measure of calm enters me.
Lai told us once that all of Regail Hall is powered by Syon. However, his immeasurably strong gift comes at a cost. Even the tiniest amount of emotion affects his gift—anything could throw his power out of balance and cause it to go out of control. She said it’d be a catastrophe if that ever happened.
Electric energy crackles through the air, begging to be released. An explosion waiting to happen.
“Syon, it’s going to be okay,” Peter whispers. It’s disconcerting hearing his soft voice emanate from the darkness amid hundreds of shouts. “I know this is hard. I know you’re hurting, and you should be able to feel your grief without anyone telling you to stop. And I am so, so sorry to ask you this, but you have to stay strong. We need you right now. Without your gift, more people could die. Lai’s barely alive. Without your light, she can’t get the help she needs.”
I know it’s going to hurt, but I open the internal grid in my head once more. I watch as Syon’s presence rages with uncontainable grief. But now, stronger than the sadness, fear pierces through. Fear for what else he could lose.
His presence keeps fighting back against the emotions circling around it, but it’s just the same as before. You can’t not feel your own emotions.
I drop Al and Erik’s hands and find my way to Syon’s side using my internal grid. I reach out and feel something warm under my hands. Whether it’s Peter or Syon, I can’t tell. I wrap my arms around whoever it is.
“Syon, listen,” I murmur. “You can’t try to fight how you feel. You can’t repress your own emotions for long, and it’ll only hurt you worse in the long run. The grief you’re feeling right now—don’t try to push it away. Acknowledge it. Accept it. Just don’t let it consume you.”
Hands press against my chest. Syon’s presence doesn’t change. I can nearly taste the electricity in the air.
I hug whoever I’m holding tighter as panic beats against the inside of my skull. “I know it’s hard. I know you’re sad. Afraid. But think of your happy memories with Seung. Find a moment you love and hold onto it. It might be painful right now—but focus on that love more than your grief.”
For a few heartbeats, his presence continues its futile struggle. Then, he fights not to ignore his grief or shut it out—a fight he already lost—but to let it sink into him alongside his love for Seung, without letting it take over him. It’s difficult. I wouldn’t typically ask this of anyone, but Peter is right. We need him to be in control—for everyone’s sake.
Long, painful heartbeats pass.
The lights flicker back into existence. They’re dim at first but slowly strengthen. The shouts of panic subside. The light illuminates Peter, kneeling and hugging Syon to him, hands clasped against the younger boy’s head and back, and my arms wrapped around both of them. It shows Clemente, staring down at Seung’s face as his tears continue to stream down. It allows me to see Erik and Al still gripping hands, tethering each other. And on my grid, all of us connected by our grief.
The pounding of footsteps begins once more now that the hallways are again visible. A set detaches from the crowd and rushes in our direction. I stand up from Peter and Syon’s sides to see who it is just as someone crushes me in a hug.
I can’t see the man’s face, but it doesn’t matter—I push him off immediately. My nerves are still wired from the battle. Even if they weren’t, I don’t want to be touched.
I can’t tell which of us is more surprised—me or my father. However, his surprise melts quickly into relief.
“You’re okay,” he says. “You made it back.” He grips my shoulders as he examines me, and I nearly shove him off again. I can’t recall him ever touching me before. Panic colors his presence. “You’re covered in blood—we—you need to—”
“It’s not mine.” I don’t have the energy to be polite. “I’m fine. You—what are you doing in Regail Hall?”
“I’ve been waiting here for everyone to return after I heard about the big battle,” my father says after a pause, likely in which he’s trying to determine whether or not I’m truly okay. “I wanted—I needed to know you made it back all right. When I heard about the ambush, I assumed the worst.”
It’s only now that I