by Lynette Noni
But Alex saw.
Alex understood.
Alex cared.
Years ago, Kaiden had told Delucia that a doorway would one day open, leading to a new life. She’d always presumed he’d been speaking figuratively, but a doorway had opened, bringing Alex to Medora. To Delucia. And tied back-to-back together in the dark and dingy dungeon, they had struck a bargain—a friendship.
Delucia’s first ever friendship.
One that she knew deep down to her very soul was going to last forever.
… And therefore, one that she was determined wouldn’t start and end tonight, despite Alex looking as pale as the sheet over which she lay, her chest barely rising and falling.
“Please, please be okay,” Delucia whispered.
On each side of her, Jordan and Bear were offering silent support, staring down at their friend as if doing so would help keep her heart beating. They hadn’t asked Delucia any questions, hadn’t demanded any answers. Perhaps they were afraid of her, having witnessed her earlier screaming display. But Delucia didn’t think that was it. Somehow they knew, somehow they could tell that she wouldn’t be there, wouldn’t be covered in Alex’s blood, if something hadn’t happened between the two girls that night.
Whatever came next, the three of them—Delucia, Jordan and Bear—were going to be in it together now. And then the four of them, once Alex awoke.
And she would awake. She had to. Delucia wouldn’t accept any other outcome.
As if reading her mind, and heedless of the blood covering her flesh, Jordan reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, whispering, “She’s a tough one, our Alex.”
Bear took Delucia’s other hand and added, also in a whisper, “She’ll be back on her feet and driving us all crazy again in no time. You’ll see.”
Delucia doubted they even realised it, but the strength they were sharing through their words and actions—that was all that was holding her together. And despite the years of animosity between them, despite the walls she’d built to keep them out—walls that tonight had not just crumbled, but disintegrated entirely—they kept holding her hands long into the early hours of the morning, until Alex’s breathing eased and Fletcher finally declared that she was going to make a full recovery.
Only then did Delucia burst into tears, her relief almost as painful as the dagger that had been aimed at her heart—but had instead plunged into her friend.
Fifteen
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
Delucia knelt in the middle of the snow-covered crossroads at Raelia, tears streaming down her face as she stared at the space where Jordan had been standing just minutes before. But that—that hadn’t been Jordan. Not really.
In his place had been a mindless puppet, someone whose actions were controlled by Aven, someone who had lost all sense of willpower.
Jordan was trapped. Stolen from them.
And Delucia… she was going to do whatever it took to get him back.
Together with Alex and Bear, she knew the three of them would travel to the ends of Medora and beyond to save their friend. And when they did, when they found a way to free him, Delucia was going to make sure that she never let him go again.
Just as she would never let any of her friends go, not today, and not in the days to come.
She would fight for them.
She would bleed for them.
She would move kingdoms for them.
And she’d do it all because she knew, deep within her, that when they looked at her, they didn’t see just a princess. They also saw a girl. And they loved her—all of her—just as she loved them.
The curse of her crown—it didn’t exist. Not for Delucia. Not anymore.
And as she listened to Alex’s impassioned speech, wiped her tears and stepped through the opened doorway, she did so with certainty in her heart that everything would be okay. They could make it through anything, as long as they were together. And Jordan—they’d be back with him again soon. She felt it, in everything she was…
… and everything she would ever be.
SCARS
AND
SILENCE
A NOVELLA OF
THE MEDORAN CHRONICLES
One
Jordan Sparker’s throat was dry and his hands clammy as he followed his best friend through the silent halls of the Library.
Alex kept sneaking glances at him, her eyes red and puffy but her lips curved up in a smile, as if she couldn’t believe she was walking next to him. She wasn’t the only one. Had this been only an hour ago, he wouldn’t have been ambling so sedately at her side—he’d have been trying to kill her.
When Alex flicked her gaze his way yet again, he was careful to paint a grin on his face, the action feeling foreign to his mouth; to his heart. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d smiled genuinely of his own free will.
… He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything of his own free will.
With a shuddering breath, Jordan forced away the intruding dark thoughts. He was no longer Claimed by Aven, Alex had seen to that. A puppet no more, and yet he couldn’t help fearing the lingering pull of the phantom strings; couldn’t help dreading the mental tug from a mind much more powerful, much more ancient, than his own.
For five weeks Jordan had been Aven’s to command, to control. But as he and Alex reached the foyer of the Library and started up the staircase leading out onto the academy grounds, he reminded himself that she’d rescued him from the prison of his own mind; he reminded himself of what she’d told the Meyarin prince in the mentally fabricated rose garden of Chateau Shondelle:
“You’re done, Aven,” Alex had said. “You have no more power here.”
And just like that, she had used her gift of willpower to transfer the blood-bond over to herself, and soon afterwards she’d freed Jordan completely. His mind was his own again, battered and scarred as it now was.
The damage, at least, was on the inside. And that was where it would remain. Because each glance Alex sent his way told him how relieved she was to have him back—but also how worried she was. And for good reason, Jordan could admit, since the two of them had cried in each other’s arms in the aftermath of his mental liberation. She more than anyone else knew exactly how it felt to be robbed of her own will and forced to carry out Aven’s bidding. Even if she’d only been Claimed for a short amount of time, she knew.
But… she also didn’t.
She had no idea what Jordan had gone through. What scars he now bore, hidden deep inside.
No one knew.
And, as far as he was concerned, no one was going to know.
Because this was his burden to bear. Alex had her own demons she had to face—boy, did he know that was true—and she needed the full support of not just him, but Bear and D.C. as well. Until Aven was defeated once and for all, their entire focus had to be on helping Alex. Nothing could get in the way of that. Jordan wouldn’t allow anything to be a distraction—especially whatever it was he felt simmering deep inside him.
“Ready to face the music?” Alex asked as they stepped off the staircase and onto the ground floor of the Tower building, her voice soft but not soft enough to keep from startling Jordan. He covered his knee-jerk reaction by running a hand through his hair, messing it up even more than it already was.
“You think they’re still serving food?” he asked in return, offering what he knew would be considered a typical response from him. A normal response.
Her answering chuckle told him he’d done the right thing, and he slung an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close as they stepped outside and onto the snow-covered grounds.
Jordan inhaled deeply as they crunched their way along the icy path towards the food court, the frosty air burning his lungs and making him feel alive—fully alive—for the first time in five weeks. He was grateful for the warmth of the thick Myrox-threaded clothes he wore, but a larger part of him wanted to shred the wintry Meyarin outfit and all that it represented, even if it meant
running stark naked through the snow.
That, he thought, would be one hell of an entrance.
But with Alex currently nestled into his side, he prudently decided to remain decent, at least until he was back in his dorm room.
The grounds were devoid of people as the two of them hurried towards the large building in the centre of the academy, with all the students having returned from holidays and now in the food court for the welcome back dinner. As they moved closer and closer, Jordan felt his heart rate increase, wondering what reception he was about to receive, wondering how he could possibly face his friends after what he’d been through—after what he’d done.
But then they were entering the doors of the food court and it was too late to second-guess whether they should have gone straight to the dormitory building instead.
Jordan’s skin crawled as the sounds of hundreds of students washed over him, so at odds with the peace of the Library or the quiet of the snowy grounds. Laughter, cheering, teasing—there was so much noise.
Overwhelmed, it took a concerned squeeze of Alex’s arm around his waist for Jordan to snap out of his frozen state. He forced himself to take a deep breath, remembering where he was. Remembering who he was.
“You have no more power here.”
Alex’s mental words replayed in his mind, and Jordan felt his body relaxing once more. This wasn’t just his school—it was his home. These people, even the ones he didn’t know well, they were his family. He wouldn’t allow Aven to take that from him. Not anymore.
“You have no more power here.”
Smoothing his expression as the last of his momentary panic subsided, Jordan looked down at Alex and smiled. Her eyes narrowed a fraction, as if she could see how much the effort cost him, how fake it was, but then something caught her eye and she squeezed his middle again before tilting her head towards the far side of the room.
Jordan followed her gesture and his breath caught at the sight of Bear and D.C. sitting alone together, their heads bowed and their faces pinched with worry. Whether that was because they were anxious for Alex’s return from Meya, or a result of their fear for what Jordan himself might be going through at Aven’s hands, he wasn’t sure. But regardless of the nerves humming underneath his skin, he wasn’t going to make them wait a moment longer.
Disentangling from Alex so that they could move easier through the throngs of students, Jordan followed in her footsteps as they passed table after table. It was surreal that no one looked up at him, that no one cried out in alarm, that no one knew just how dangerous he’d been to all of them the last time he’d been in this building. He’d been a walking weapon. At any time, Aven could have ordered him to commit untold acts of violence. But no one here knew that.
Except… some of them did.
Jordan felt the shocked eyes of the headmaster and key members of the teaching staff land on him. Marselle half rose out of his seat, as did Hunter and Caspar Lennox, but Alex caught their movement too, and a quick but firm swipe of her hand through the air had them slowly lowering again. Jordan wondered if she realised just how much they trusted her, just how much faith they had in her, that they were willing to allow what they presumed was an enemy to walk amongst them. That kind of influence—she really had no idea.
But Jordan couldn’t focus on the academy staff right now, not when he and Alex were only a few tables away from their friends.
“Yo, Sparker!” Blink called out loudly from where he was seated with a group of their fourth-year classmates. “Did you catch the Warriors’ game last night, bro? When Simmons was hovered into that korack’s nest, I was sure we were done for, but—”
Blink continued speaking, but Jordan didn’t hear another word he said, since both Bear and D.C.’s heads had jerked up at the exclamation of his name. The looks on their faces—Jordan felt all the air leave him in a rush.
Fear.
Denial.
Wonder.
… Hope.
The two of them looked between Alex and Jordan and rose from their chairs—Bear slowly, but D.C. with so much force that the seat skittered back and almost went crashing to the ground. And yet, neither of them left their positions by the table, just as neither of them blinked, as if fearing he would disappear like a mirage.
Since Jordan was behind Alex, he couldn’t see her expression. But whatever she silently communicated to their friends had Bear’s shoulders slumping with relief and D.C. throwing a shaking hand over her mouth, tears filling her eyes.
It was like time paused and then someone clicked their fingers to make it speed up again. One moment Alex was standing in front of Jordan, and the next she was jumping out of the way as D.C. uttered a painful sobbing sound and shot forward, launching herself into his arms.
Having not expected such a strong physical reaction, Jordan stumbled back a step as D.C.’s legs circled his torso and her weight hit him, causing him to bump into the table behind hard enough that he’d surely have a bruise on his thigh later. But none of that mattered—all that mattered was the redheaded princess now wrapped tightly around him, her grip nearly strangling and her shudders rocking his whole frame.
“Shhh,” Jordan said, one arm supporting her and the other threading through her hair. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“Jor-Jor-Jordan—” D.C. was crying so hard that she couldn’t say more than that, and she buried her face in his neck, her anguish only seeming to grow.
Peering around, Jordan looked past Bear’s pale face and the white-knuckled grip he had on Alex’s hand to see that they were causing quite the scene. As far as the rest of the students knew, even if the four friends had been separated over the Kaldoras holidays, they’d still seen each other barely a fortnight ago. D.C.’s borderline violent reaction was drawing shocked and curious eyes from all across the room.
Catching Alex’s gaze, Jordan jerked his chin towards the exit before turning and heading back the way they’d come, D.C. still clinging to him. The food court was noticeably quieter now, the only sounds being D.C.’s ravaged sobs and the low, questioning murmurs of those watching on.
With long strides, Jordan moved swiftly through the masses, focusing only on the distraught girl in his arms and trying to soothe her as best he could with repeated words of reassurance. But nothing he said was getting through to her—if anything, his attempts at comfort were only adding to D.C.’s hysteria.
Once they were outside again, Jordan turned helpless eyes to Alex and Bear. The latter seemed to be struck mute and was staring at Jordan as if he were a ghost, but Alex placed her hand not being crushed by Bear on D.C.’s back and moved until she was speaking right into her ear.
“Try to take a deep breath, Dix,” Alex said in a soothing voice. “Jordan’s right here—he’s not going anywhere. We need you to try and calm down, okay?”
D.C.’s grip tightened to the point that Jordan began to find it difficult to fill his lungs with air. He looked at Alex and shook his head to let her know her attempt hadn’t helped, but his communication wasn’t necessary, since they could all hear D.C.’s increasing distress.
His heart broke at the depth of D.C.’s pain—at knowing he was the reason for it—and Jordan made a quick decision, striding forward once more.
“Where—”
“Fletch will have something to help her,” Jordan interrupted Alex’s question, shifting D.C. slightly in an attempt to loosen her suffocating hold. It was no use, though. Her grip was unyielding.
Ribcage screaming, Jordan hastily led the way to the Gen-Sec building and straight through the doors on the ground floor. He hadn’t seen Fletcher with the other staff at dinner, so he hoped that meant the doctor was somewhere in the Med Ward.
Sure enough, Fletcher was standing beside a supply cabinet and tapping away on his MedTek screen when Jordan and his friends rushed into the sterile Ward. His lips curled up in welcome upon seeing them, but his smile faded when he realised what he was seeing. Or rather, who.
Jordan had no doubt Fle
tcher was amongst those who knew Aven had Claimed him. But to the doctor’s credit, after a momentary flash of misgiving, he maintained his revered no-nonsense attitude and hurried over, his focus wholly on D.C.
“What happened?” Fletcher said by way of greeting, searching for any injuries that might have caused D.C.’s traumatic display of emotion.
“I think she’s in shock,” Alex said when neither Jordan nor Bear offered an answer—Jordan because he was being slowly strangled to death and Bear because he remained a walking mute.
Asphyxiating or not, Jordan did note Fletcher’s eyes flicking towards him, and the distrust was clear enough in them for it to feel like a blade stabbing his heart.
When Alex saw the doctor’s look—or perhaps Jordan’s flinching reaction to it—she was quick to defend, if quietly, “Jordan’s himself again, Fletcher. Please, if you can help Dix, I’ll explain everything in a—”
Before Alex could finish, the doors to the Med Ward burst open, revealing the stunned-looking headmaster, with Hunter and Caspar Lennox at his side wearing similar disbelieving—and suspicious—expressions.
“Alex, what—” Marselle began, but D.C. let out another wailing sob and Alex was quick to cut him off.
“Please,” she begged, holding up a hand to stop anyone from speaking over her. “I’ll explain everything soon—I promise.” She turned back to Fletcher. “Just give her something to calm down first.”
Fletcher, however, hadn’t needed Alex to repeat her request and was already on the move before she finished her second plea. Striding quickly to the far side of the room, he returned carrying a small sealed package that he nimbly unwrapped. Inside was what Jordan recognised as a Serenity Spot—an adhesive patch laced with a strong sedative. It wouldn’t knock D.C. out, but it would help her to relax. Considerably.
Wasting no time, the doctor rubbed the patch firmly between his hands to activate the chemical reaction, then pulled the barrier off the sticker and gently lifted the heavy fall of D.C.’s hair to attach the sedative to the nape of her neck. He then rocked back on his heels and waited the five seconds it took for D.C.’s breaths to stop hitching and her muscles to ease their death-grip.
