—But I can try to fake it.
I go to my door, get close to it, and start moaning and screaming louder than I ever have before. I don’t know how good of an actress I am, but it sounds convincing enough to my ears. Thomas and Tessa are laughing so hard down the hall that I can hear them, but I don’t care. This is about getting Tiras to safety, not maintaining my own dignity.
I can't see the front drive to know if my ploy is working, but within minutes I hear thundering footsteps echo down the hall. The night nurses are making their way to my room, and I know Dr. Palmore won't be far behind. He'll bring the serum, and Tiras will go back to the Ether to heal.
I get the serum, as expected, but as it starts to take hold—before my consciousness fades, before the nurses leave, and while my door is still open—I see two orderlies drag Tiras's bound, unconscious form down the hall to one of the empty rooms.
He should have dismissed by now. Why is he still here?
When I wake the next morning, my first act is to try to conjure Tiras. My hand doesn't glow; he doesn't come.
Was last night a dream? Am I still under the influence of the serum? I don’t feel sluggish or numb, so I doubt it’s the serum.
Ettie brings breakfast a few minutes after I wake up, and she’s even more short and curt than usual, bordering on rude. Her lips are pursed, and she turns up her nose at me when I try to ask if she knows of any new admissions that came during the night. I give up on trying to get answers from her. She probably heard about my “performance” to save Tiras, and it upset her sensibilities.
It's Friday, so that means “nature therapy,” which is really just where they herd all the patients to the inner courtyard and tell us to play nice with each other. Everyone sits at the periphery, and aside from the pyro twins everyone sits alone.
My inability to conjure Tiras consumes my thoughts, so I’m not paying attention to who’s in attendance at nature therapy. I walk in circles, wringing my hands, hoping against hope that the light will return to them and Tiras will appear.
Nature therapy ends, and an orderly escorts me back to my room. As he leads me down the hall, I see that the room they deposited Tiras in last night is open. With more strength than I knew myself capable of, I wrench free of the orderly’s grip and rush to the doorway.
Inside the room, restrained in the bed, eyes glazed over, is Tiras. A bandage covers the gash on his head, so I don’t know if it has started to heal, but from the look of the bruising on his face and wrists I doubt anything on him is healing. He looks like hell warmed over, and I want to go to him. The orderly catches me, however, and drags me back to my own room screaming Tiras’s name.
He doesn’t answer. I don’t know if it’s because he can’t, or because he won’t. His eyes indicate a recent dose of serum, but maybe he doesn’t want to reply—or does he? I’m more confused than ever now.
The orderly locks the door but doesn’t call Dr. Palmore for a sedative. I guess with Tiras bound to his bed down the hall, they don’t think I need any serum. Or maybe I don’t need it. I mean, if my magic is gone, then the serum is pointless. Maybe everything is pointless now.
I can see Tiras's door from the barred window in my own door. They've locked him in, so I don’t know how he's doing. I stay at the tiny window, staring at his room, until I'm too tired to stand. My body slides to the floor, and I drift off to sleep with my forehead pressed against the cold metal.
Ettie wakes me with her key in the lock, and I scramble to avoid getting smashed by the door when it opens. The night spent sleeping on the floor has made me groggy, but not so groggy that I’m too stupid to see the opportunity in front of me. While Ettie is backing the breakfast cart in, I snatch her keyring, shove her against the door, upturn the cart, and bolt for Tiras’s room.
It takes a few precious seconds to find the right key, but I get the door open before Ettie recovers.
Tiras is still tied to the bed, but his eyes are clear. Whatever they had him on, it's worn off. Those gorgeous amber orbs are wide with shock. I don’t know if he remembers that I tried to come in last night. I don’t know if he was even aware enough to know I was there. I freeze, and for a moment I forget to breathe.
“Siren?” His voice is hoarse, like the orderlies had strangled him in their attempts to subdue him. “They let you out of your room?”
He doesn't sound angry; that's a good thing. I think.
“I'm out of my room. The permission for me to be out may be debatable.”
I don’t know why I'm cracking wise. I cringe as I realize that jokes are not what Tiras needs right now.
Tiras shifts in the bed, but his restraints prevent him from getting into a sitting position. “You shouldn't be here. They’ll punish you for coming here without permission.”
I glance back down the hall. Ettie is heading for the internal phone system. I've probably got a few minutes before the orderlies descend. “What happened to you? You've been gone for so long, and I couldn't conjure you back.”
Ettie's voice drifts to my ears. “—in his
