Chapter 45: Factions Divided

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Sorry for posting late, I just got really excited to write the next few chapters and kinda forgot to upload this one *winces*

Enjoy : )

Norah

"That's it," Dagen seethes, his voice low and dangerous with a glare to match it. I expect him to lunge again, to curse and sneer at the ghosts we cannot see. I don't expect his eyes to roll and his knees to give.

A gust of wind softens his fall and then Adam is stripping out of one of his many jackets and propping it under Dagen's head.

Easton glances at everyone, eyes lingering on me. "Is he dead?"

"No," Clarika says shortly, blue eyes stark in the darkness of the ice dome.

Holland raises his brows at her, waiting. "Care to explain further, Miss Crimson?"

But it's Adam who answers, studying the empty space between us for the ghosts. "He's separated his soul from his body, essentially making himself a ghost," he explains. "It's like giving the ghosts caffeine. They'll be all over him. But with how things were going before, I'm guessing he might be using it to throttle them."

"Or find answers," Easton says, frowning down at Dagen.

I've never seen Dagen sleep before—a vulnerability, a weakness to him in case we ever took the time out of our nights to try and stab him. It's odd to see his face so relaxed, the line between his brows that only ever leaves during one of his lazy smiles is gone. He looks peaceful.

I'm not foolish enough to believe that.

"He said something about the ghosts warning him." Clarika eases herself down, resting against the wall of ice with crossed ankles and arms. "We won't know anything else until he comes back."

"And how long will that be?" Holland questions.

Clarika shrugs. It seems lighthearted, but I know she's silently patronizing him for his lack of mage knowledge. "Minutes. Hours. Days. I would get comfortable if I were you."

"The longest recorded time a mage has spent separated from his body is three days and forty-two minutes." Adam smiles a bit at our faces. "I know things."

Squirm blinks at me from the leather pouch on Rima's back. I stare back with a shiver, wondering if this look has a secret meaning I don't yet understand or if it's from invisible eyes burning into me.

"What do you think the warning could be about?" Adam rubs his chin, still smooth despite the many days spent traveling. Holland can't say the same, muttering something last night about how his silver itches under the mask. I know Easton is proud of his beard. He's been working on growing one for months.

"I mean, we should be getting close to Chiver City if we've been heading in the right direction..."

"Like I said," Clarika says slowly. "Take a seat and wait." She stops, going rigid. "You are touching me."

With a smug smile, I slink an arm through hers and lay my head on her bony shoulder. shoulder. "You said to get comfortable. So I'm getting comfortable. Stop glaring at everyone."

"You are pushing your luck," she hisses but doesn't pull away.

"I'll have you know Miss Crimson, that I have very bad luck," I say, secretly savoring the way she tenses like a metal screw.

Easton snorts. "I wish I could get a picture of this and hang it up on the refrigerator."

"We live in the same dorm, Easton, you don't have a refrigerator." I peep an eye at him when he sneers at me.

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