Page 80 of At the Mercy of Midnight
The next night, Silas slept uncomfortably on the floor in Amelia’s apartment, only broken by midnight, where they touched hands to reduce the pain of the pull. She could not have moved away from him quicker afterwards, rolling over in bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. He tried not to take that personally, but it was difficult considering he had all but confessed that he had been attracted to her before the bond.
They hadn’t discussed it again, and she had been careful not to get too close to him since he’d nearly kissed her. Again.
The light of the early morning sun woke him, filtering through the windows next to him, searing at his closed eyelids.
Amelia woke not long afterwards. Their stilted conversation before bathing and dressing frustrated him, but he could sense her withdrawing, whether out of fear of them becoming closer or out of self-preservation, he wasn’t sure.
“With the conference this morning…” Amelia said on a sigh, “I—”
“You can present,” Silas interrupted her, shaking his arm into the sleeve of his cloak. She stayed silent, so when he was finished adjusting the fabric around his shoulders, he glanced up. Amelia just looked at him with little discernible expression. “I assume, from our history of fighting over who gets to relay findings, that that’s what you were going to say?”
Her lips pressed together before looking away, shuffling some notes before her. “I suppose so.”
He picked up his journal filled with his musings and sketches from the Rift and shoved it into his pocket. “Then we’re all set. I’ll be in the Spire to keep looking for more texts while we await father’s journals. I’ll meet you in the grand conference hall before it begins.”
She gave him a single nod but wouldn’t look at him. So, he left.
The grand hall of the Lux Spire always made Silas feel unusually small. The vaulted ceilings, the towering bookshelves stacked with centuries of knowledge, the hushed reverence of scholars who roamed like ghosts. It was an intimidating place. Even now, walking alongside Amelia, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, the weight of history pressing down on his shoulders.
They had met a half hour before, returning a little too easily to their wooden academic relationship, like the past few weeks had never happened. Amelia ran through her ideas for the presentation, which she had nailed, as expected. Amelia would deliver the findings of their Rift expedition, the glyphs discovered, the magical signature of the place, and the disruption of midnight that warranted their hasty retreat.
They were welcomed into the hall by the scholars, standing in a mingling mass of academics, chatting idly before the conference began.
The room was abuzz with enquiries and theories on the Rift and the rapid expansion of its borders. It was an odd thing to witness, how the scholars talked of this abomination with the wide-eyed looks of those who were thrilled to have something so puzzling to work on, when Silas couldn’t help looking at it with nothing but burdensome loathing and terror.
He was thankful when the chatter turned to other, safer topics which didn’t cause his chest to feel like it might implode from both his and Amelia’s feelings swamping him.
For a few brief moments, everything felt normal. Like before their expedition, before the cuts.
Then Silas felt something tingle unpleasantly down his spine, an awareness that had his eyes wandering beyond those speaking softly in their little group, searching across the other faces in the hall.
He noticed him almost immediately, standing near the back, watching them with an intensity that unsettled him. Tall and well-dressed in the manner of someone accustomed to power, his eyes gleamed with something he couldn’t quite place. It was only when he approached them just before the presentation, a smooth smile playing on his lips, that Silas began to feel the air grow heavier, as if the very space around them had shifted. He moved uneasily on his feet as the older man strode closer to him and Amelia.
“Dr. Winslow,” came his smooth, cultured voice. Amelia frowned as she turned towards the man addressing her, taking in the aged, yet handsome features with his salt-and-pepper hair and assessing eyes. Silas wondered if she felt the strange energy radiating from him. He smiled at her, and Silas had the urge to step between them, shielding her. “I must admit, your findings are far more intriguing than I could have imagined. The Rift, the midnight issues you experienced firsthand. Quite a revelation.”
Silas scrutinised the man, familiar with the look on his face. It was the kind of admiration that always had strings attached.
“Thank you,” she said, offering a polite but distant smile. “It was an interesting, yet dangerous journey. And I’m sorry…have we met?” Amelia’s tone was courteous, though her eyes were sharp as a knife, betraying her discomfort and distrust.
“No,” the man said, stepping closer, gaze drifting to Silas with a keen interest. “I’m Demetrius, an avid Rift enthusiast and scientist. I’ve followed your work for a while, as well as your companion’s.” Demetrius’ strange eyes shifted over Silas in an uncomfortable perusal. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”
Silas met Demetrius’s gaze with the same measured neutrality he wore in the presence of those he didn’t trust. “We’ve learned a great deal,” he said, tone even. “Some of it more than we bargained for.”
Demetrius’ smile deepened, as if finding the words more telling than they had been intended. “I can imagine. The magic in that place…it’s unlike anything anyone in this world has encountered. It must have been…overwhelming.”
Amelia stiffened.
There was a subtle edge to his tone that made his skin prickle. He wasn’t speaking as a scientist, not entirely. He was probing for something.
“Were you planning on continuing your research into the Rift after your findings?” Demetrius asked, leaning just a little too close to Amelia. “There is much more to uncover, I’m sure.”
She glanced at Silas, face unreadable, thoughts hidden behind a mask he knew all too well. It conveyed her lack of desire to explain further, but Demetrius looked at her insistently.
“We’re…considering it,” Amelia said cautiously, “but there are more pressing matters at hand.” She couldn’t quite keep the unease from her voice.
“Of course,” Demetrius said, smile never fading. “The unknown is always daunting. But I must admit, the opportunity to study the Rift’s mysteries firsthand is something I couldn’t pass on.”
His eyes gleamed with an intensity that had the room feeling colder than before. There was something about him he couldn’t place. It wasn’t just scientific interest; it was too deep,too personal. His gaze lingered too long, like he was assessing, weighing their value.
