Page 87 of The Amber Sunburst

“Kleitos?”

“Yes.”

“Forms.”

Eudoxia’s breath shortens until it’s shallow and ragged. Ophelia chances a glance at Arete to see that she’s come to the same conclusion as her. Strong, beautiful, impenetrable Eudoxia is about to cry. Arete puts her hands to her ears like she doesn’t want to have to hear it. “Forms, Ophelia, what are we going to⁠—”

“We’ll read the note and decide from there. Let’s open it outside, okay?” Ophelia asks.

She’s angry at Arete. Of course she is. But she’ll always adore her, and no good can come from Arete watching Eudoxia break down or her hearing whatever Kleitos has written.

Eudoxia nods, slipping outside. Ophelia sweeps up the note and follows her out, shutting the door behind her.

“I’m sorry, Xia. This is all my fault.”

Eudoxia puts a hand out to shush her and shakes her head. “Arete has always been too smart for her own good.”

“She gets that from you,” Ophelia tries to joke, but all she’s met with is a sad, hopeless smile in return. “It’s still my fault,” she repeats.

Eudoxia doesn’t acknowledge her, shaking her head in frantic frustration. “I always think she’s learned her lesson and then she always proves me wrong. Why does she always prove me wrong?” Eudoxia begs.

“I’m so sorry, Xia.”

“I don’t blame you. I don’t even blame her. Everything about this—all of these stupid Forms-cursed years—it’s all been too much for me and her and I just—” Eudoxia inhales sharply. “Whatever’s in that note… Arete and I are done for. I’m too scared to be mad, so stop apologizing. I just need you to— I just need you, okay? I don’t care whose fault it was.”

Ophelia is selfishly grateful that Eudoxia is too devastated to push her away, and yes, she knows it’s awful of her, but she doesn’t have time to feel bad about it now.

Ophelia opens her arms, and Eudoxia melts into them, hiding from the world in the crook between her shoulder and her neck.

After a few minutes, Ophelia says gently, “We’re going to need to open that thing at some point.”

She feels Eudoxia’s sigh on her shoulder. “I know. Just… not yet.”

“Yeah, okay.” Ophelia squeezes her tighter. “Not yet.”

21

ZENO

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” his dad says with a shrug. “I just feel like you’re off today. Ergo, something is wrong.”

Zeno huffs a laugh. “Ergo?”

Bios scowls at him in that childish way of his, which is even funnier given that he’s hanging upside down on his office couch. He claims that he thinks better with more blood going to his brain. “Yes, ergo. Now don’t change the subject.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Dad,” Zeno sighs, not trying at all to hide the fact that something is definitely wrong. He needs advice desperately—what else is he meant to do? Ask directly? Never!

“Come on, bud.”

“Fine, yes, okay, something is wrong.”

“Wow, you came around quick,” Bios says, and Zeno shoots him a scowl of his own. His father is unaffected. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up, or should we keep playing the question game?”

“You know my friend⁠—”