“We leave him be for now,” Odessa said. “But another false step, Dustin Graves, and you will have to answer to the full fury of the Lorica.”
The Overthroat’s skull floated in the bubble beside her, exactly like a balloon, making her look even more childlike, but I knew better than to make light of Odessa’s warning. I’d abused her hospitality enough. I nodded firmly, watching her and the other Scions fade out of existence as they returned to the Heart.
Beside me, Herald finally breathed. “You got off lightly,” he said.
I scratched the back of my neck. “I guess. Didn’t realize I made such a mess of the Heart.” I sniffed, trying not to show Herald how pleased I was with myself, and failing miserably. He smacked me.
“I see you both survived the encounter,” Carver said, striding up to us with the rest of the Boneyard in tow.
“Just barely,” I said.
Carver raised his eyebrow. “What did you have to give up, Dustin?”
“Everything,” I said, struggling not to sound so melancholic.
Carver pressed his lips together, then nodded. “We shall discuss that later, then. For now, I think I need to take Asher back to the Boneyard and put him back together.”
Asher wasn’t in the best shape. Sterling and Gil stood to either side of him, barely holding him up. His body was drenched in sweat, so damp all over that it looked like he’d just been pulled out of a shower. I glanced across the graveyard, noticing that none of the shattered skeletons that Izanami had usurped from Asher’s control were in sight.
“Returned to their graves,” Carver explained.
“All about respect,” Asher chirped. “Had to put them back.”
“He’s delirious,” Carver said. “But he should be fine after a day’s rest.”
Asher reached out, booped Carver on the end of his nose, then giggled.
Carver frowned. “Perhaps a week, then. Will the two of you be wanting to travel separately, or shall we adjourn to the Boneyard?”
I briefly considered the idea of staying to check on Team Lorica, but looking past Carver’s shoulder was enough to tell me what I needed to know. Prudence and Bastion were supervising cleanup. Royce was sitting on his haunches, his head in his hands. Romira bent over him, patting him on the shoulder and rubbing circles in his
back.
“They’ve got their work cut out for them,” I said. “Yeah, Herald and I will hitch a ride, I think.”
Without another word, Carver flicked his wrist, sending the grass beneath us burning in a blaze of amber fire. The touch of his magic was so welcome after what felt like an endless string of ordeals. It was familiar, comforting – words I might have once used to describe the act of shadowstepping, a part of me that was lost forever.
Chapter 35
Back at the Boneyard, Sterling and Gil escorted Asher to his room. Later I found out that Sterling, the good friend that he was, had personally stripped Asher down to nothing and scrubbed him in the shower before pouring him into a pair of pajamas and putting him straight to bed. See, now that? That was friendship.
Carver took me aside, and without exchanging words it was as if he knew what I had done within the confines of the Dark Room. He placed a hand on my chest, his false eye pulsing with energy as it looked through my skin, past muscle and bone. He blinked, and his eye stopped glowing.
“The shard remains,” he said. “Truthfully, removing the star-metal from your heart would likely kill you at this point. Quite like a bullet. But it seems as if the shadows no longer haunt your bones, Dustin. I don’t sense the menace of the Dark Room about you.”
“I had to let it go,” I said, thinking back to what my mother had said. She was talking about herself, but she might have meant the Dark Room as well. “I don’t feel it anymore. When I call, it doesn’t answer.”
Carver placed a hand on the side of my head, the pads of his fingers pressing through my hair. He gave me a small, sad smile. “Perhaps it is for the best, Dustin. You still have the gift of fire, after all.”
“I do?” I looked down at my palm, curling my fingers, making a pleasantly surprised noise when a small plume of fire bloomed from the center of my hand. “Hey, neat. I guess I still have that.”
“Yes. Neat indeed. Now, if you will excuse me, I think it’s time for some well-deserved rest.”
“What does that mean in your terms, really? Do you just sit in a chair and stare at the walls?”
Carver walked towards the corridor to his office, scoffing. “How thoroughly amusing. One would hope that severing the Dark Room’s corruption from your soul might have given you a better sense of humor.” He flipped his hair as he reached the end of the hallway. “But alas.”
“Rude,” I said, shaking my head as he disappeared around the corner. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked in the opposite direction.