Ashe sat in his room waiting. The world still seemed off, wrong in some way. The smell of spider sludge and sweat hung in the air, pungent and clinging, as if it had soaked into his skin. He pushed himself off the bed, swallowing down everything else.

  He grabbed his duffel bag and made his way down the hall to the bathroom.

  When he shut the door behind him, the silence felt too loud. He turned on the shower and started to strip off his clothes, fumbling for a clean set. Something clattered to the ground. He froze, then crouched and scooped it up, instinctively clutching it between both hands as if it might break.

  Cardboard. Plastic. Familiar edges.

  His bus card.

  For a second he didn’t breathe. His throat tightened like it was trying to hold something back. The card was warm from his palm, and that small warmth made it worse. A stupid, ordinary thing, and it hit him like a punch. His mind yanked him back to that day, to his parents calling out to him, telling him to hurry up, teasing him when he complained. He’d been annoyed, pissed off that he had to come along, stand there while they ran errands, listen to them talk about nothing.

  He would give anything to be annoyed again.

  His fingers curled around the card until it bit into his palm. They were gone, and the world kept moving like it didn’t matter. His chest caved in. He dropped the card. It hit the tile with a soft, pathetic slap. Tears came before he could stop them, hot and humiliating, spilling down his face as if his body had been waiting for permission.

  He stepped into the shower with his head down. The water beat against him, warm and steady, doing its best to wash the pain away. It didn’t. It only helped him hide it.

  And he let it.

  He didn’t know how much time passed. By the time he became aware of himself again, his skin felt raw beneath the water and his mind was wrung out, hollowed clean. When a knock sounded at the door, sharp and sudden, it nearly knocked him off his feet.

  His heart slammed against his ribs. He fumbled to shut off the shower, water still dripping from him as he hurried to dry off just enough to function. He opened the door half-dressed, breath uneven, bracing himself for Danny’s voice.

  Instead, he heard a light chuckle.

  “You’ve been in there a while. I was starting to worry you’d gotten stuck in the toilet.” There was none of the irritation or resignation he’d heard earlier.

  Ashe froze. “Annabelle?” The name barely made it out before she tapped his shoulder lightly.

  “Yes.”

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  It was strange. He’d expected her hostility to continue, expected sharp words or thin patience. Maybe she’d changed her mind. Or maybe she was setting him up for something.

  “Put something on and come out,” she said. “I was told I need to finish doing your post-portal check.” Despite the words, she didn’t sound bitter. She didn’t sound like she’d been forced, not like last time. Instead there was a hint of amusement in them.

  Ashe ran his hands down his body without thinking, then stopped cold. He was still damp, standing there in nothing but his underwear. Heat rushed to his face, his cheeks burning as awareness crashed in all at once. He felt the twitch return behind his eye.

  He slammed the door shut without another word and dressed as fast as he could. He wiped his face and clung to the buzzing, counting it like a metronome until his breathing matched it. A moment later, walking stick in hand, he stepped back out, his thoughts already bracing for whatever came next.

  As he stepped into the hallway, his heart had relaxed slightly, but the fear remained. He flinched as she spoke.

  “Don’t you look nice? You look like you’re attending a wedding. I need to see your shoulder.”

  Ashe put a hand on his shoulder. It was still warm, a little tender, but it wasn’t bad, despite not having the usual healing a portal offered.

  She placed a hand on his shoulder. Warmth flooded it, like the portal heal but concentrated. Before he knew it, the ache was gone and his arm had returned to a normal temperature. He raised it and let it fall. Nothing.

  He gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”

  She poked and prodded at the rest of him, checking for any other issues. When she pressed his rib, he blurted out a forced laugh, and for a second silence fell over the room. But it didn’t last.

  “Sorry.” The words came out genuine.

  “Let’s get going. I should show you around.”

  “Did I pass?” The question had been bugging him since she’d appeared.

  “Hm. Let’s just say I think your chances are good enough that it’s not a complete waste of time.”

  Ashe let out a sigh he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and relaxed his shoulders just a little. He slid his walking stick down so it tapped the floor and followed the sound of Annabelle’s footsteps as she made her way down the empty dorm hallway.

  They turned before they reached the elevator. Ashe had never considered exploring further. By the time he was in the dorms, he was knackered—exhausted to the point that snooping was the last thing he wanted to do. But now that some of the tension and fear had left him, he was excited to see what the rest of the building held.

  He heard an automatic door slide open, and her footsteps disappeared as she left him standing there with his own thoughts. He quickly shook them off and continued. Inside, the air was hot, and the floor turned to sand almost instantly. Ashe turned to Annabelle. “What’s this for?”

  “For heat training. Jumps with desert climates. It really does help.”

  It made sense, but the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He’d assumed the training facilities would resemble those at the Guild.

  The amount of facilities in the Guild HQ was crazy. There were labs for VO2 max testing, cold training, sword training, hand-to-hand combat—really, anything you needed to be more efficient in portals. The distance they’d covered was starting to burn in Ashe’s legs.

  When Annabelle’s voice rose, Ashe readied himself for another explanation, another cutting-edge room designed for training. But it didn’t come. Instead, she asked a question.

  “You still haven’t introduced yourself. What’s your name?”

  He froze. The buzz in the air seemed to increase, rushing in to fill the silence as his mind scrambled. No one had asked that. He’d thought it was procedure—maybe it had been something else. He hadn’t been ready to answer, but he croaked it out between tight lips.

  “Ashe.”