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all the brute force you can muster, I have things to do.” Deneya stepped backward. “But I’ll come back tonight.”

“Why?” Eira called after her.

“Because you amuse me,” Deneya called back. “So you’re welcome to try again, Eira.”

* * *

The following week was a blur of emotions.

Eira was most calm when she was with Alyss in the library in the afternoons, debating what they were going to do for their show of creativity. Alyss would obviously craft some kind of stunning, magical sculpture from a mixture of stone, clay, and wood. But Eira still couldn’t decide what she wanted to do. Debating it was its own distraction, at least. She didn’t have to think of anything beyond what had the greatest likelihood of impressing the judges, mainly Ferro.

And Ferro… He was a whole different set of emotions—the sort of emotions that made her blush for hours, lying in her bed, long after he’d kissed her knuckles and bid her goodnight. She met him three more times that week. Not once did he mention Deneya, so neither did Eira.

But she kept meeting with Deneya as well. The two elfin couldn’t be more opposite. Ferro was as smooth as silk. Deneya was more like a dagger. She was graceful in her own way, but sharp, and at any moment could well be the last thing you saw.

Yet, for all Eira knew of the risks conceptually, she never felt at danger when it came to Deneya. Other than for a few tense seconds during their first encounter, Deneya hadn’t ever given Eira the impression she had anything to fear.

Overall, Eira felt less at odds sneaking around with her elfin friends—was “friends” the right term for them?—than she did walking in the Tower. Much like her skin had felt those first few hours after the revelation, as she and Alyss had begun to term it, the Tower no longer felt like it fit. The walkways and rooms were too small. Every corner closed in on her.

When Eira wasn’t meeting with Alyss, she chose to wander the city. She would often find herself walking to the clinic where she’d assisted before the trials, then to Margery’s Bakery, and then often down to the city gates before finally returning to the Tower.

It was on one of these walks that she saw Marcus leaving from the clinic. Eira tried to duck behind a building. But he’d seen her. This wasn’t the first time they’d crossed paths, but it was their first time outside of the Tower.

“Eira,” he said.

She turned, pretending she didn’t hear.

“Eira, wait!”

Eira stopped as he ran over. Every muscle in her neck was tense, pulling her shoulders up toward her ears.

“What’re you doing out here?”

“Taking a walk,” she answered without looking at him.

“Alyss said you go for a lot of walks these days.”

“What’re you talking to Alyss about?”

“You. I…I’ve been worried about you.”

Eira glanced at him from the corners of her eyes, skeptical. “Don’t you get it? You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“Eira, I didn’t mean what I said.”

She turned. Eira didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to confront it. Not when the trial was tomorrow.

He grabbed her shoulder, stopping her from leaving. “I’m sorry. I mean that. But not…not the other stuff. Everything came out wrong. I was so confused and my emotions were a mess. That day… I…” Marcus cursed under his breath. “Look, can we just walk back to the Tower together?”

Eira gazed up at her flustered brother. Part of her wanted to twist the proverbial knife. She wanted to be ugly and throw his words back in his face. But she couldn’t muster enough wretchedness to do that. She’d been craving normal so badly that its peaceful allure was too much to refuse.

“Fine.”

They started off together. In awkward silence, at first. But it became less uncomfortable with every step. Marcus being at her side was normal, even if it usually resulted in her being in his shadow.

“I really am sorry,” he said again, softer. The words had more weight this time.

“I forgive you.”

“Do you?” He seemed shocked.

“I think so?” Eira shrugged up at him. “I don’t…” She sighed. Deneya’s words were in her mind. If she had everything before, then she wasn’t missing something now. Sure, maybe some pieces had to be rearranged. But all the pieces were there. They always had been. Even if the colors on a few were too blurry to make out still. Maybe they always would be. “I want to try to forgive you. I know I can. And, most importantly, I don’t want to fight with you. I never did.”

“I know, I was an ass.”

“Mature of you to say so.”

“Mature of you to forgive me.”

“You might have spoken too soon. I could just be having a good day today. Maybe I’ll be angry again tomorrow and resent you for hours.” Eira put her hands in the pockets of her skirts and grinned up at him. Marcus laughed.

How cute, he thought she was kidding. Still, his laughter elicited the same from her.

“I meant to apologize sooner but—”

Eira held out her hand and shook her head. “This is nice. Let’s drop talk of the revelation for now before we ruin it, all right?”

“All right.”

Another pass of awkward silence over another twenty steps. They’d just made up. Why did she still feel so uncomfortable?

The Tower looming in the distance had Eira slowing until she came to a full stop. Marcus didn’t realize until he was several steps ahead, looking back at her with an inquisitive stare.

“Marcus?”

“Eira?”

“Am I still your sister, like you thought?” she asked so softly the wind nearly stole her words.

Pain flashed in his eyes. Marcus slowly marched back to her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I should have never said those words—never done anything to make you feel that way.” Eira pressed her eyes closed and embraced her brother on the side of the street, allowing the world to

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