Prince of Air and Darkness (The Darkest Court)
Except...
I look at the entrance of the dining hall.
Sebastian sighs, but when I glance back at him, he’s fighting down a weary smile. “Go.” Gumba nods. Herman grips Sue’s hand tightly, but there’s no condemnation in his eyes.
Sue tilts her head toward the door. “Go, Finny.”
I do.
* * *
I start in the Delphi lecture hall, since that’s where Roark met with the Unseelie before. He’s not there. No one is. I head toward the commons. No sign of the Unseelie prince, but I do find a nervous baobhan sith on her way back to her dorm. I’m pretty sure my intensity frightens her, but after explaining twice that I’m just trying to find Roark, she takes pity on me.
And thus the impossible hours-long chase begins. Each time I’m sent to someone else, I find Roark’s already gone, a few steps ahead of me. I try texting and calling him, but my phone dies sometime between walking from a first-year student’s dorm room to the Unseelie frat. Before I know it, I’ve walked most of campus and dusk is falling. There’s no choice but to go home.
When I push open the door, it’s a surprise to find the lights on. Herman usually turns them off when he leaves, but he may have forgotten.
“Guys?” I call out as I head toward my room to plug in my phone.
No response. Makes sense. They’re probably with Sebastian still, or maybe Gumba. I should find them and help, too.
Phone charging, I flop on my bed and try to find the will to get up. Roaming campus alone after the fae declared war on each other isn’t a smart idea, even if I want to keep looking for Roark. Besides, I owe it to my friends to push off this funk unt
il after they leave. I’ll have plenty of time to wallow then.
Yep. That’s what I need to do. Use the time I have now and dissect my misery later.
I reach above my head out of habit and tap twice against the wall. There won’t be a response, but maybe the closure will make the next few hours easier.
Tap. Tap.
That’s impossible.
I shoot up and stare at the plaster. My mind’s playing tricks on me. After wandering everywhere looking for him, there is no way he could be here, in his room. Except, that’s totally the kind of dick move he would pull.
I lick my lips and clamber to my knees. The wall’s cool under my fingertips and I press the side of my face to it, ordering myself to slow my breathing and pulse so I can actually hear. I lift my hand and rap a second time.
Nothing.
I try again.
The silence stretches out longer, killing that early fluttering of hope. I scrub at my eyes with the heel of my palm, swearing under my breath. But when I drop my hand, there’s a shadow in the doorway.
He’s gaunt, exhausted, but he stands in my doorway with quiet resignation. I drink him in, too confused to form words. I kneel, he waits, and we watch each other.
I only speak when I’m afraid my heart’s too full and is about to burst. “You’re here.”
“I thought it was appropriate to say goodbye properly.” He holds out his hand. A flash of gold between his fingers. “And I needed to return my key.”
“I was looking for you,” I say while he sets his key on one of my bookshelves.
“Oh?”
“I need to ask you something.”
“I’m all ears.”
There’s so much more to Roark than this glass-smooth calm. It’s my fault he’s hiding behind it now.