That night the city was awake. Even the silence was restless, pulled tight like a wire on the verge of snapping. The mark on the eastern wall still glowed faintly in my mind’s eye, as if I had brought back a piece of it.
Once in the privacy of my chambers, I pulled the bandages from my arm. The scar seemed to burn brighter than ever, the jagged lines beneath the candlelight almost moving. Every beat of that seemed to resonate with the same time that had once beat in the voice of the masked figure.
“You’re connected,” Gideon said quietly, shattering the silence. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, his shadow elongated on the floor.
“I didn’t ask for this connection,” I replied, tightening the cloth around my arm as if I could conceal the truth from him.
“No,” he agreed
