Nightfall

by Shannon Messenger

  “It’ll be fine,” Tam promised, taking a long look at the house before he started moving forward again. “Besides, I’m pretty sure we’re about to give my parents a panic attack, so that’ll be fun.”

  His smile looked forced as he led them to the gilded front door and started pounding hard enough to rattle the wall. He didn’t stop, even when the windows blared with sudden light.

  “All right!” Tam’s father shouted. “I’m coming! What kind of—”

  The rest of his outburst morphed into a gasp as he threw open the door. His black hair was sticking out on one side of his head and smashed down on the other, and his silver-blue eyes were puffy with sleep.

  “Try not to look so happy to see me,” Tam said as he shoved his dad aside and marched into the house.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” his dad barked, tripping over his silky black robe as he scrambled to get away from Alvar’s floating body. “What have you done?”

  “Nothing,” Tam told him, motioning for Sophie and Biana to follow him. “But thanks for assuming the best of me.”

  “You show up at my door in the middle of the night with a floating body, while you and your friends are covered in silver paint—”

  “Ash,” Tam corrected, shaking his arms and sending silver-white flecks flying all over the spotless gold floor.

  “Well, congratulations,” his father told him, slamming the door so hard the chandelier trembled. “You found something that looks more idiotic than your bangs.”

  “Quan?” a female voice called from down the hall. “Who are you talking to?”

  “It’s nothing, Mai,” Tam’s father called back to her. “Go back to bed, my love. No need to trouble yourself with this.”

  “Trouble myself with what?” Mai asked, her voice much closer.

  Tam went rigid when his mother peeked into the room.

  Her ebony hair hung in two loose plaits, and her cheeks were flushed pink, like her daughter’s—until she spotted her son. Then all color drained away.

  “Tam?” she whispered, clutching the ends of her blue flowery robe as she stepped closer. “Where’s Linh? And why are you filthy? And why—”

  She screamed when she noticed Alvar behind him.

  Lots of shouting followed, with both of the Songs demanding different answers. But Tam told them nothing as he floated Alvar down the mirror-lined hall. All Sophie and Biana could do was follow.

  They passed a series of gilded fountains filling the air with rippling gurgles, until they reached the house’s inner courtyard, where thousands of glowing wind chimes cast a soft light as they swayed from the branches of flowering trees. Beneath the canopy, urns of lacy plants lined a series of reflecting pools filled with colorful fish and crowned with wide, flat lily pads. It was breathtaking and peaceful, the kind of space Sophie would normally want to spend hours in. But all she could think about was how the extra water must’ve amplified Linh’s struggles.

  “So where exactly are we going?” Biana asked as Tam tossed open the arched doors to one of the towers and started up a flight of jeweled steps.

  “To my mom’s favorite room, because when I annoy—I annoy hard.”

  “Stay out of your mother’s studio!” his dad yelled behind them.

  “Can’t stop me!” Tam shouted back.

  “It’s fine,” his mom said as she ran to catch up to her son. “Use whatever room you need. Just tell me what’s going on.”

  Tam ignored her, climbing all the way to the top floor, which was so high up, the air had turned mostly silent. The only thing waiting for them was a pair of stained-glass doors.

  Mai grabbed Tam’s arm as he reached for the handles. “This”—she shuddered as she took a glance at Alvar—“is the Vacker boy, right? The one I hear has been working with those awful people?”

  “Yeah,” Tam admitted as Biana slouched lower. “And no one can know where he is, okay? We needed to stash him somewhere unexpected, and everyone knows this is the last place I’d go, so . . .”

  Mai flinched.

  Tam pretended not to notice as he yanked open the doors and snapped his fingers to turn on the thin strands of twinkling lights that stretched across the enormous, hexagonal room. Sophie had been expecting the “studio” to be for recording music, but it turned out to be an artist’s dreamland. Each angled wall was dedicated to a different medium—watercolor, sculpture, ink, charcoal, colored pencils, and something that involved tiny glass pieces. Floor-to-ceiling windows divided each “station,” and twinkling moonlight streamed through the square skylights.

  “Is that Linh?” Biana asked, frowning at a painting-in-progress of a smiling teenage girl with black hair and silver eyes. The resemblance was there, but certain details were off—the lips were too thin and the cheeks were slightly too wide, and the silver touches were noticeably absent from the ends of her hair.

  “It’s my best attempt,” Mai said quietly. “The only way I get to see her.”

  Tam snorted. “I notice there isn’t one of me.”

  “No?” Mai flicked her wrist and used telekinesis to spin the canvas around. “It’s hard to capture your intensity,” she admitted. “But I did my best.”

  She looked so small—so sad. It almost made Sophie feel sorry for her—until she remembered the scraggly tents that Tam and Linh had been forced to squat in for years. She also noted that Mai had conveniently left Tam’s silver bangs off the portrait. And she’d painted it in a way where she’d only see one of her twins at a time.

  “Here,” Mai said, rushing over to the round table in the center and sweeping the rolls of canvas and pots of paint hastily to the floor. “Set him down here. It’ll make it easier for your Physician to examine him.”

  Tam did as she requested, gaping at the mess—vivid splotches of thick paint staining the floor.

  “I spilled ink on your sleeve once, remember?” he said quietly. “Dad made me stay in my room for two days.”

  Mai looked away. “Things change.”

  For a second, Tam’s eyes seemed to brighten. Then the shadows crawled back and he shook his head. “Not enough.”

  Mai fussed with one of her braids. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Towels,” Sophie told her. “And bowls for water, so we can try to clean Alvar up.”

  Mai nodded. “I’ll be right back. There’s a bathroom at the end of the hall, if any of you feel like washing your faces. I can get you spare clothes, too.”

  “We’re fine,” Sophie said—then realized she shouldn’t speak for her friends.

  Biana’s eyes were on her brother as she said, “I’m staying right here.”

  “Think his bonds are enough?” Tam asked, giving them a good hard tug as his mother left.

  “I don’t think he’ll be waking up any time soon,” Sophie reminded him.

  Biana wandered over to Tam’s portrait, pretending to study it closer—though she mostly seemed to be wiping her eyes.

  “Will you be okay without me for a second?” Tam asked. “I really need to talk to Linh.”

  “Of course,” Sophie told him. “Take as long as you need.”

  “Should I assume your sister is out taking similar risks tonight?” Tam’s father asked from the doorway.

  Tam shrugged. “You don’t get to care if she is.”

  Quan blocked Tam from pushing past him. “You brought your troubles to us, Tam. You chose to involve us.”

  “Then how about you don’t ruin it?” Tam snapped back. “How about you take this chance to do one nice thing for us without making your own selfish demands?”

  Quan opened his mouth to argue, then closed it and stepped aside.

  “Everything okay?” Mai asked as Tam stalked out of the studio.

  No one answered.

  She made her way to the center table, managing to avoid stepping in the paint as she set down the golden tray she’d been carrying, laden with towels and bowls and a steaming pitcher of water. “Should I . . . ?”

  “He
re,” Sophie said, taking the cloth from her—not that she had any idea where to begin.

  Under the bright lights of the studio Alvar looked even paler, and his wounds were so dark and jagged. She tried dabbing at a few, but that only seemed to break the scabs. So she settled for making a warm compress for his forehead, and another for his neck and hands.

  “How long do you think it’ll be before your Physician arrives?” Mai whispered.

  A knock rang through the house in answer.

  Quan stalked off to get the door, and Sophie’s breath caught when she heard more than Livvy’s voice greet him.

  The next seconds were a blur, and then Livvy was dashing to treat her patient—her face covered behind a mask again—as Fitz ran to his sister and Grady crushed Sophie with a hug.

  “I think I’ll go check on my son,” Mai said quietly as she watched Sophie sink into Grady’s arms.

  Sophie buried her face against Grady’s chest, letting a few of the tears she’d been fighting slip free.

  “I know you already know this,” Grady whispered, stroking his hands gently down her back, “but we will find them.”

  We will, Fitz added, transmitting the words directly into her head. Whatever it takes.

  Sophie peeked out from Grady’s embrace and locked with Fitz’s beautiful eyes, feeling fresh tears when she noted his grief.

  This is NOT your fault, she told him, before he could voice the apology forming in his mind.

  Maybe not But I’m still so, so sorry. His gaze strayed to his brother, and the rage in his mind turned into a storm. I’ll break his consciousness apart if that’s what it takes to find them.

  She could tell he meant every word.

  But memory breaks weren’t the kind of thing that should be decided out of anger. And they always took a toll.

  I’m hoping it won’t come to that, she told him. If you and I could find our way through Dimitar’s mind, I’m sure we can poke around Alvar’s head and find what we need.

  But if we don’t . . . , Fitz pressed.

  Then we’ll figure it out.

  “You guys might want to wait outside for a minute,” Livvy warned—though Sophie realized she needed to call her Physic—removing a pair of shears from the black case she’d brought that looked like a tackle box. “I need to cut off the rest of his clothes to check for wounds.”

  “I’ll need the clothes when you’re done,” Grady told her. “To check them for trackers.”

  Sophie froze. “I didn’t even think about that. What if—”

  “Relax,” Grady said, gently guiding Sophie, Biana, and Fitz to the small space outside of the studio and closing the door. “Sandor’s already setting up security perimeters outside to make sure we’re prepared.”

  “Sandor’s here?” Sophie asked.

  Grady nodded. “So are Grizel and Woltzer, and at least a dozen dwarves. We have this covered.”

  “But still—I should’ve—”

  “You had a lot to think about, Sophie,” Grady interrupted. “And you did the right thing. You got yourself and your friends out of there unharmed, you chose the safest place you could think of, and then you got help. It’s okay to let us take over from here.”

  Physic pulled open the doors and handed him a satchel of bloody scraps. “It’s safe to come back in now. He’s under a blanket.”

  “Will you be okay here for a few minutes?” Grady asked Sophie. “Sandor should take a look at these. And I should make sure Grizel hasn’t slapped Tam’s father. When I left, Quan was spouting off lots of instructions to make sure they didn’t destroy Choralmere’s ambiance.”

  “Sounds about right,” Tam said, coming up the stairs behind them. “And feel free to let Grizel smack him around.”

  “How did Linh take the news?” Sophie asked as she watched Grady head back down.

  Tam’s smile faded. “Pretty much what I expected. She wanted to come over, but I talked her out of it.”

  “I wish you hadn’t,” his mom called from somewhere below them. Eavesdropping from the shadows.

  “I know,” Tam shouted down to her. “That’s why I told her not to come. We have enough to deal with right now, without you using this as your chance to convince us to come home.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t,” Tam cut her off. “If you really want to be a part of our lives, you need to wait until we’re ready.”

  He stalked back into the studio without waiting for her to reply.

  Sophie, Fitz, and Biana followed.

  Sophie hadn’t worked up the courage to look at Alvar when Biana gasped, “You removed his bonds?”

  “It’s my job to treat his wounds,” Physic told her. “Even the ones under the cords. Besides, he’s not going anywhere. Whatever sedative they gave him is crazy strong.”

  She picked up one of Alvar’s arms and let it drop limply against his bare chest. A black blanket covered the rest of him from the waist down.

  “But you can wake him up, right?” Sophie asked, remembering how Gethen had hidden his consciousness in the darkest depths of his mind to avoid interrogations.

  “As soon as I figure out what he’s on.” Physic reached into her tackle box and pulled out seven slender candles, a jewel-encrusted lighter, and a pair of spectacles that looked like the ones Elwin was always using. “This is when I envy Flashers. Must make the process so much easier—especially since I’m stuck with this thing again.”

  She pointed to the bright blue mask, lined with gold beads and flecked with gold glitter. Fitting the glasses over it was a struggle, and the end result looked noticeably crooked. But she made it work as she used the lighter to spark the first of the candles.

  The flame was brighter than normal fire, casting a deep shade of green across Alvar’s face as she studied him.

  Mr. Forkle didn’t want to come? Sophie transmitted to Fitz.

  He didn’t think he should be around when Alvar wakes up. Plus, he wanted to bring Blur and Wraith the starstone—and a piece of Keefe’s cape—so they could do another search of Nightfall with some dwarves. Juline was going to work with the gnomes to set up a cell for Alvar. And Tiergan went to update my parents.

  Sophie’s heart ached for Alden and Della. You don’t think you should be there for that?

  I probably should be, but . . . I need to be here.

  He reached for her hand, and the way he clung to her made heat bloom across her cheeks.

  Neither of them seemed to know what to say after that, so they watched in silence as Physic switched to an orange-flamed candle. Then yellow. Then blue.

  “What’s wrong?” Sophie asked when Physic finished working through the spectrum.

  She removed her iridescent spectacles. “I’m not sure. Physically, he’s stable—or as stable as you can be after that much blood loss. But I can’t figure out what sedatives they gave him, and he’s not responding to any of my elixirs.”

  “Wait,” Biana said, and Sophie turned to find her holding several pots of paint. “Weren’t we wondering if the Neverseen were making their own special sedatives?”

  “I thought of that already,” Physic said. “But all of those plants we found at the efflorescence sites—slumberberries and dreamlilies and aethrials and sweetshades—they all leave telltale markers in the cells. And I can’t find traces of any of them.”

  She peeled back Alvar’s eyelids and flashed the light of the red candle across them.

  “Does that mean it’s a mental thing?” Fitz asked.

  “You guys would be able to tell that better than I can,” Physic told him.

  “Should we check?” Fitz asked, and Sophie was already on her way to Alvar’s side.

  “Maybe you should rest first,” Physic told her. “You look pretty dead on your feet.”

  “I’m fine,” Sophie promised.

  “Then let me give you a mental boost,” Fitz offered as he came up beside her.

  He reached for her face, and Sophie closed her eyes and leaned in, letting him pre
ss his fingers against her temples. The second their skin touched, a rush of warmth flooded her mind—the energy softer than it had felt in the past. Smoother, somehow. Coating her thoughts like melted butter.

  “Wow,” she breathed. “Did you do something different?”

  “You looked really tense,” Fitz said. “So I tried sending energy from my emotional center.”

  “Well, it’s amazing.” She stretched her neck and channeled a tiny bit of the warmth into her weary muscles. “I’m going to want you to do that every day.”

  Tam snorted. “Be glad Keefe wasn’t here to hear you say that.”

  “I just meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” Fitz assured her. “And I’m here anytime.”

  She glanced at Alvar, feeling some of the warmth fade. “You ready?”

  Fitz struggled to swallow as he offered her his hand and reached for Alvar’s temples with the other.

  “Think the gloves will affect this?” she asked as his palm pressed against hers.

  Their thumb rings didn’t snap together.

  “Hmm. I forgot we haven’t worked together like this since”—he glanced toward the door, lowering his voice in case anyone was eavesdropping—“you manifested.”

  “It’s probably better to start with them on,” Physic told them. “If it doesn’t work, you can try it without them.”

  Sophie nodded. You’re really sure you’re up for this? she asked Fitz. Alvar’s memories are going to be rough.

  He stared at his eerily still brother. Will you think I’m a coward if I admit I’m a little scared?

  If that makes you a coward, then I’m one too.

  He tightened his hold on her hand. Let’s do this.

  She took a slow breath and nodded. We go in three . . . two . . . one . . .

  Forty-nine

  SOPHIE HAD PLANNED for darkness. But she’d expected it to have an end—a barrier they could push past and find Alvar’s consciousness hidden underneath.

  But no matter which way they navigated, or how far they dove, they couldn’t escape the emptiness. And the harder they pushed, the more the darkness seemed to tighten around them, caging them in, smothering them in the sheer nothingness.

  Do you think it’s because of your gloves? Fitz asked.