When Malaya closes her eyes, it’s all she can see. She sees her family, collapsed around the table, throats slit and open to the world. She sees her mother’s head, separate from her body, hanging from the Viceroy’s hand as he cuts out her tongue. She sees the Viceroy’s smile, wicked and haunting, burned into the back of her eyelids. So she doesn’t. She’ll keep her eyes open forever, if she has to, if it means she won’t have to see it again. She stumbles into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, as the world feels like it’s closing in around her, as her chest tightens, as her hands clench so tightly that her fingernails draw blood. She keeps her eyes open so long that they start to sting, watering around the edges. The worst part is that it’s just as bad, maybe even worse, when she opens her eyes. Her heart races at the thought of going into the dining room again, so she stays here, in her childhood bedroom, where she feels safe for the first time in what feels like forever. She doesn’t even think she can face the courtyard again, where she will always see her family’s heads on stakes, even if they are no longer there. She feels the jealousy well up inside of her when she thinks about Trelic and his mother, feels the irrational rage at the idea of Talia having another father, a second father, an entirely extra person to love her unconditionally. Her vision blurs at the thought, and she rests her forehead against the closed door tiredly. It should have been her. She should have been there. Meg should be here, arguing over arcane whatevers with Fenthwick and sweet-talking Trelic into liking her. Meg would know what to do about the Professor and his strange connection with demons, she would know what to say to make Elly feel heard, and she would know how to find Vhoori for Talia. But if it had been Malaya instead of Meg, then Andor’s head might have been with the others, stuck on a stake to watch his sister get tortured. The guilt overwhelms her, and Malaya takes a deep breath as she hears footsteps and shuts her eyes for a second to blink back the tears. She sees her father shoot a lightning bolt even as his vision wavers, her mother holding her throat together with one hand long enough to form the most dangerous word she knew, her sister shouting for her brother to fly even as the viceroy pulls her out of the air. She opens her eyes again, focusing on the shut door, just inches from her face as she tries desperately not to fall to her knees. I’ll kill him , she thinks, focusing on the thought before she falls apart completely. She’ll kill them all. She’ll find the viceroy and his men, she’ll find the captain of the house guard, she’ll find the assassin who attacked Trelic’s mother, and she’ll make them all pay. And she’ll find a safe place for Andor and she’ll fix Meg and maybe, someday, she’ll be able to close her eyes again. She takes another breath and leaves her room, heading back towards the dining room, her eyes firmly open and her head held high, before the others can see her.
