The Last Spell 47.2

Leilan stared at Kaja, not quite processing her presence, even when he’d committed her weary expression and the slump of her shoulders to memory. He must’ve waited too long without a reaction, because she sighed, looking back into the hallway.

“Never mind,” she murmured, starting to turn around. “Sorry.”

The casualness of the apology he never heard from her nearly shocked Leilan into silence a second time, but he managed to gather himself in time to call, “Wait.”

Kaja paused in the doorway, one hand on the knob.

“Are you here to… talk?” Leilan asked.

Just barely, Kaja nodded, before hesitantly flicking her gaze to Shane.

“I can go if you want me to,” Shane offered gently. “But otherwise, you’re not intruding. There’s room for you here.”

A beat. Shane glanced around the tight space.

“Well, not a ton of room,” he added. “But we’ll make it work.”

A little stiffly, Kaja reentered, closing the door behind her and sitting cross-legged against it. It was indeed cramped— the heels of her dress shoes were pressed against Leilan’s toes, and Shane had to back a little further into his corner to make space— but it wasn’t suffocating, somehow. Leilan felt like he could actually breathe easier with the two of them here than when he’d been alone.

“Did you get any sleep?” Leilan asked. It felt like such a pointless question.

Kaja shrugged, looking down at her lap. She lifted a hand like she was going to rub at her eyes, but lowered it before she did.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I thought I dreamed, but maybe I was just half-awake and hallucinating. Either way, it wasn’t very restful.”

Leilan nodded slightly. He thought she’d stop there, but to his surprise, she sighed and kept talking.

“I was reliving when you, I and him were back in Amber City, that one time in our teens,” she said absently. “With those photographers following us everywhere.”

Leilan let out a tired, sad chuckle, not expecting her to say that. It had been a while since he’d last thought of it, but the memory returned like it had been yesterday.

“I don’t remember that story very well,” Shane said, although Leilan was sure that wasn’t true. Shane wasn’t forgetful like that. More likely, he was giving her the space to share what was on her mind.

Kaja hummed quietly, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. The lightbulb overhead was swinging on its wire, swaying with the movement of the boat over the waves.

“It was… what, ten years ago?” she said, half to herself. “A few members of our two Houses were having meetings there one week, our parents included, and they thought it best to drag us along and unleash us on the city with Marius.”

“I think they thought he’d keep us out of trouble,” Leilan said, shaking his head fondly.

“What a crazy thought.” Kaja huffed. “We were going around downtown with nothing to do when we ran into this crowd of paparazzi photographers, who were waiting outside a hotel for someone to come out. It was a boiling, humid summer day, and they were looking impatient and irritable. And well, we were bored, young, and kind of dumb, so we thought it’d be funny to mess with them. Leilan said he’d buy Marius a— what was it, Leilan?”

“A sandwich,” Leilan sighed. “Not even a fancy one.”

“Right. He’d buy him a sandwich if he could go up to the paparazzi and convince them he was famous.” Kaja let out a faint laugh, the sound wistful and pained. “Leilan and I were both laughing from the sidewalk as he walked up to them, fully expecting this to fail hilariously. Except Marius actually pulled it off.”

Leilan found himself grinning slightly, despite the ache in his heart, despite his chest wanting to tear itself apart. It was better to remember Marius this way— sweet, playful, and lively— instead of those last moments on the palace floor. He was grateful to Shane for asking.

“He somehow persuaded them that he was a popular game streamer, gave an interview right there on camera that would later go viral, and had to flee the scene when they asked too many probing questions.” Kaja snorted. “None of them actually knew who he was pretending to be, but they were so afraid to admit they didn’t recognize him that they gave him the full celebrity treatment.”

“And it didn’t— it didn’t stop there,” Leilan groaned, which earned him a quiet laugh from Shane.

“Saints, we couldn’t go anywhere for the rest of the week without being ambushed by cameras and people who wanted to ask if he could give them a shoutout in his next video,” Kaja muttered, wiping at her eyes. Leilan glimpsed the sheen of a tear on her cheek before it was swept away. “Other people were making videos about him, updating the world on how we were going from here to there across town. It was insanity.”

“Finally, I made good on my sandwich promise, and Marius went on camera again to announce his retirement from streaming, even though he'd never done that to begin with,” Leilan said. “The hype mostly died down as soon as it started, but I heard he still gets— he would still get the occasional fan running into him and begging him for a selfie. Every time we parted ways, we’d tell him to ‘avoid the paparazzi’. It was our bit for years.”

The slight nostalgic smile on Shane’s lips wavered at the switch from present to past tense, and Leilan felt that tremor pull at his heart too. Shane pulled him closer in the side hug.

“It was,” Kaja said. Her voice had tightened, and Leilan watched her swallow as she pressed her hand to the side of her face. “I wish…”

He knew what she was going to say, but he waited for her to finish anyway. It took a minute for her to fight against her breathlessness.

“I wish I’d gotten to say goodbye,” Kaja whispered.

Shane reached out, setting his hand over hers with a slow, unmatched tenderness. Kaja didn’t pull back. If anything, she gave in and sank a little further, seeking out the contact.

“You were both good friends to him,” Shane said softly. “I know that mattered more to him than anything else.”

Kaja lowered her other hand from her face, and Leilan swore he caught the moment her expression crumpled. When he blinked, he was expecting her to have recomposed by the time his eyes reopened, the way she always did. But she hadn’t. Distress pulled at the lines of her face in a way he’d never seen before, and she didn’t immediately dry the mistiness in her eyes.

“It mattered a lot to us too,” she murmured.

Leilan’s eyes pricked. He leaned more heavily into Shane’s side, unsure that he had the strength to support himself alone. For a minute, the three of them were quiet, weighed down by what they all carried together.

Then the door creaked open a third time.

Kaja leaned forward as the support against her back vanished, turning around to see Mireya, who stared at them like she thought she’d made a mistake in coming here. Apparently, there was something about Leilan’s hiding spot that provoked that reaction. Or maybe it was just the three people crying inside.

“My bad,” she said hastily. “It can wait a minute—”

“No, you’re okay. We’re just…” Leilan allowed himself a somber chuckle, sitting up as he gestured around. “Finding a replacement for therapy.”

“As replacements go, it’s not too bad,” Shane added.

“I only have a little neck pain from it,” Kaja said. Leilan guessed that was her way of saying she was glad for it.

“In this economy, you take what you can get,” Mireya agreed, her tone softening with understanding. She hesitated as she glanced behind her, peering back in the direction of the staircase. “I don’t mean to interrupt. It’s just that— I think we’re getting a message?”

Leilan frowned in confusion, scanning her face for answers, but she seemed just as mystified as him.

“A message?” Shane echoed.

“Can’t the world leave us alone?” Kaja muttered.

“I would love that,” Mireya said. “But our radio has other ideas. Cyrin turned it on again, and no matter what frequency he dials it to, it’s playing the same recording on repeat.”

“Every single frequency?” Leilan asked slowly, getting to his feet. Shane and Kaja followed suit. “That makes no sense. No one’s got that range of broadcasting.”

“Every single one,” Mireya confirmed. “And if you think that’s crazy, you should hear what it’s saying. It’s clearly meant for us.”

Leilan saw his own uncertain look reflected on Shane’s face when he glanced at him, but after a second, his friend nodded, taking a deep breath and shuffling out the door. Leilan found the will to follow after him.

“The craziest part of this is where a radio suddenly has relevance again,” Kaja said.

“Hey,” Mireya chided, as Shane led Leilan up the stairs. “I’ll have you know it was a revolutionary invention for its time…”

“Think this is good for us?” Leilan murmured to Shane as Mireya’s voice faded out.

“No idea.” Shane glanced over his shoulder, offering him something like a sad smile. “The only thing out there good for us might just be us. But at least we have that.”