Page 141 of At the Mercy of Midnight
To have her again, to have more of her, would be like entering into a dream. But the shadows in his periphery, the call of the Realm, were all reminders that he couldn’t have her. That in a handful of days, he was destined to disappear, leaving her with nothing but a memory.
It wouldn’t be fair.
She didn’t protest when all he did was climb into bed beside her, and snake an arm around her waist, simply holding her.
Amelia didn’t ask for him, didn’t try to kiss him or even speak on the moments they had shared in the cottage overlooking the sea. Silas felt like she understood. That she might be the only person he had ever known, who truly understood him.
He fell into sleep with that thought cradling him, wanting it to keep him warm, for however long he could have it.
The next morning, Amelia woke to find the bed empty and cold.
After a brief search, she found Silas in the small library, hunched over, elbows on his knees as he stared down at Bane’s journal, eyes narrowed in concentration.
He looked up only briefly as she entered the room and moved to sit beside him. He sighed as he looked back to the weathered journal pages.
“Bane truly was a scientist,” he said, fingers tracing a small drawing he had done of the Rift. “He’s marked ley lines between the Monoliths.” Silas tapped on the small iteration of the Ruins of Veilthorne. “Look what’s dead centre.”
Amelia hummed her agreement, a compulsion rippling through her to snatch the book away, to stop him from looking at it.
He turned a page.
“This ritual…the Midnight Rite,” he murmured again, “it’s so complicated.”
Amelia read the word she had already glanced over the evening before.Solamnoctis. “The lone night,” she translated, leaning closer, head tilting.
Silas shook his head. “It’s funny how the words of the incantation almost war with one another. It speaks of connection, yet of severance in the same sentence. It’s a vexingmix.” He looked up to her, eyes carrying a measure of pain. “How are we supposed to find a way to change this spell? All we’ll do is mess it up, and we’ll both be taken.”
Amelia’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
He glanced back down and turned to the next page, depicting charcoal sketches of two bodies entwined in overlapping circles. There was a small note at the very bottom, the scrawl was uneven, barely legible.
But I love her.
Silas was looking at the words, too, before he closed the book and tossed it to the side with a long exhale.
His jaw was tight as he looked at her.
“It feels inevitable,” he said despondently.
She reached for his hand, but he pulled it away from her before she could take it. Amelia sat back, heart aching. “We’re still scientists,” she said, trying to keep the emotion from her voice. “We have some time, and I think I have an idea…will you at least try?”
His face was still drawn, sombre, but he seemed intrigued by her words. His brow raised. “What kind of idea?”
Amelia bit at her lip and stood, offering her his hand. “Let me show you.”
A long silence lingered as he stared at her hand. He took it slowly, and she helped him stand. He met her eyes, and there was something so unnervingly distant in his expression. Something sad yet determined.
“Alright, I’ll listen,” Silas said. “But we also need to start preparing.”
He dropped her hand, and she moved her fingers in front of her to fidget nervously. “Preparing?”
Silas nodded. “Yes, preparing for the possibility that if we don’t find another way, that you will need to be willing…to let me go.” His blue eyes blazed with something fierce, whileher stomach dropped. “The sacrifice requires willingness. If you can’t do that, Winslow…we fuck it all. And not just for us.”
The bond between them pulsed like a heartbeat.
She could see it in his eyes. That he was already preparing himself for that outcome, that he didn’t believe they would find a way.
Amelia just needed to prove it to him.
