Page 162 of Carousel

I cry harder. “No. No.”

“For the nerves,” he says calmly, his eyes glazing. “They just gave it to me for the nerves.”

CHAPTER 29

The Implosion of Magic

Boots thud along the tiles behind me. I already know it’s Drake. I keep my eyes focused on Cosmer. Grip the tips of his fingers tighter.

“Free huff,” Drake mutters. “You must have been thrilled.”

I whip my head around to him. “Shut up,” I say, with such force that it startles me.

It seems to startle him. He winces.

But then, in a different voice, tamer, he says, “We should go. Let him sleep it off.” He places a hand on my shoulder.

“No,” I say. “I want to stay.”

I turn back to Cosmer. He’s no longer looking at me. His eyes are on Drake’s hand, still cupping me near my neck. I glance down at it myself. It looks settled. Like it belongs there.

No.

I wrench up my shoulder to force Drake off me.

But it’s too late.

“Ara. What’s happening?” Cosmer asks, squinting like he’s seeing through steam. “Why is Drake here?”

“He helped me,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady. “No one else would, and I couldn’t have got in on my own.”

Cosmer looks past me, to the guard across the room, who is watching us with interest – but not like he thinks we’re a threat.

“He helped you,” Cosmer murmurs, words elongated, “With the talent you share.”

I don’t need to say yes or no. It wasn’t a question.

This was a mistake.

He sits back, hunching over so I can’t see his face anymore.

“I hate it,” he whispers. “I hate it.” He scrubs both hands repeatedly through his hair, as though wishing he could wipe every thought he’s thinking from his brain.

I wish I could do that for him. Bring him peace.

“I know,” I say, pained. “I just wanted to see you. I couldn’t think of another way.”

Cosmer’s voice, when it comes again, is harsh. Louder. Full of accusation I can’t bear to hear. “I’ve been in here five minutes, Ara.” He glares at Drake. “Why is he touching you? All the time?” He aims his next sentence at Drake like a knife. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Is she?” is Drake’s calm reply. It’s said with what sounds like genuine curiosity.

“Yes,” Cosmer says, hiking his shoulders while the muscles in his chest tighten. “So, you can stop rubbing your hands with glee that I’m in here now, out of the way. And just leave her alone.” He looks murderous, like maybe he could bend our will, if he wanted to.

Then he throws his head back laughing, as if he’s now found the funny side of the whole thing.

Somehow, it’s worse than his rage.

I stand up.