Page 127 of Sonnets and Serpents
It fell to the ground with a clatter, displaying one side cracked all the way through, the edges blackened as if burned. Silas wasn’t sure what to make of that. Prodding at the awareness of his magic felt different, like entering a familiar room where the furniture had been rearranged and new paintings hung.
But he wasalive.
Full of the triumph of that, he shifted his hand from Eliza’s cheek to the back of her neck, drawing her down. She didn’t resist, kissing him with a tenderness that taught his heart to beat again. Her tears left his face damp.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m uncertain of a few details, but I know you saved me. Again.”
Even after all he’d done to hurt her.
She answered with a prim little smile. “Well, I had to do something. You’re an academic, not a fighter.”
He tried to laugh, but between the python on his chest and the exhaustion sweeping in, it emerged as a strange cough. Hesitantly, he asked, “Kerem?”
“He’s a rat.”
“I wasn’t asking for a personality assessment,apta. I meant—”
“Oh, no, he’s currently a rat. Henry has him under control.”
Silas’s lips twitched. “Well done, Henry.”
He was quickly losing his hold on consciousness, but before he could fully sink, he brushed his knuckles across Eliza’s cheek, wiping the last of her tears. She caught his hand and kissed his palm, whispering something he didn’t catch. He didn’t like the cadence of it; it sounded too sad for the wake of a victory. Almost ... resigned.
Before he could investigate, a nonthreatening darkness pressed in, closing his eyes.
Silas spent three weeks in the healing hall, asleep. Apparently, after hearing about his injuries—specifically his magic being ripped out and replaced—the physicians decided the best treatment was to put him in atasumakand hope that, without interruptions, his body could sew itself back together.
He woke rested and ravenous, with a greater appreciation for the disorientation Henry had experienced when coming out of his own Stone Caster’s coma. The physicians brought him enough food to feed an entire class, but they brought something else, something that cracked his heart and made him wish he was still asleep.
A worn, red book, familiar in every threadbare edge.
When he asked about the girl behind it, the news was simple: Gone. She and Henry and Gill had taken a ship back to Loegria. Apparently, they’d tried to delay until he woke, but he’d needed more time to heal, and the ship’s schedule only had so much to give.
Gill had also left him the pardon. Silas stared at the Loegrianroyal seal and Eliza’s sonnet book until his raging stomach finally forced him to set everything else aside and eat.
He was grateful when the physicians admitted his first visitor; he needed the distraction.
“Iyal Afshin!” Silas almost sprayed a mouthful of rice, catching himself with the back of his hand. He struggled to untangle from his food tray, but the dean waved for him to stay seated.
“I’m pleased to see you out of bed,” Afshin said, smiling widely.
Silas had taken up residence on the floor, preferring a thin cushion to the blanket that had held him hostage for the last few weeks. He gestured to the other cushion beside him, and Afshin settled atop it.
“If it’s up to me,” Silas muttered, “I’ll never sleep again.”
“I’ll leave it to Iyl Daria’s team to warn you about over-taxation during recovery.” Afshin looked him up and down, as if trying to perceive cracks in his skeleton. “You’re feeling better?”
Silas managed a nod, stuffing his mouth with beans to avoid expounding on that. Hewasfeeling better. Physically.
Even if his eyes kept darting to the red book on his bedside table.
“Good, then we have some things to discuss.”
Understandably, the dean wanted his account of everything that had happened. Although Silas would have preferred to deliver it in written form, he muddled his way through a retelling of his discoveries and the events in the tunnels, filling in gaps as he realized them.
Afshin was clearly familiar with most of it already, but he filled in some gaps of his own.
Yvette had been cleared of suspicion. One of the kuveti captains had surrendered the details of his agreement with Kerem. In addition, Iyal Mazhar had left behind a more detailed research journal than Iyal Havva’s, and in combination with all the witnesses, the condemnation was clear.
