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The West Tower

We find him in the West Tower around dusk—a tower Odessa has claimed as her personal suite. Enormous and completely open, the room resembles a giant obelisk with stacked balconies running along its circumference, each overflowing with several lifetimes’ worth of discarded hobbies: baskets of wool and knitting needles, a pipe organ, jars of propagated plants, paint pots and canvas frames, a palmistry hand, even two slowly revolving models of the solar system.

Abruptly, the scope of Odessa’s life hits me like a fist to the face. Because shehaslived several lifetimes, and buried each one in this room. The place is equal parts graveyard, classroom, and laboratory of a fickle scientist.

And it ismarvelous.

After following Michal across the threshold, I peer up at a bizarre statue near the door, its face painted into an eternally chilling smile of white and gold. “Whatisthat?” I ask in morbid fascination. “Some sort of guardian?”

Michal spares it an uninterested glance. “She calls it an automaton.”

“And an automaton is...?”

“A failed experiment.” He steps over a spangled shoebox filled with brass cogs and gears. “Mila and Dimitri often snuck in hereto rearrange Odessa’s things. It drove hermad. Contrary to this general air of chaos, she claims a method to her madness, so she built Potvor to dissuade them from touching anything else. He exploded before she could finish him—”

“—and thus served his purpose,” Dimitri says from across the room, “as we thought she’d rigged the place with explosives.” He stands atop a giant chessboard painted onto the very floor, hands on his hips as he considers the life-sized pieces around him. “Des!” He raps his knuckles on the horse’s saddle before craning his neck to shout behind him. “I think your queen can take this knight!”

Odessa pokes her head over the railing of the third-floor balcony. She holds a map in one hand and a protractor in the other; large spectacles sit on the bridge of her nose. “You will not move a single piece! I forbid it. This game is currently in play, and it is Panteleimon’s turn, not mine.”

Dimitri shakes his head in exasperation before moving the queen anyway. “Panteleimon is a peacock,” he mutters.

When said peacock sweeps past him a moment later—wearing a collar of brilliant gold—we all watch, transfixed, as he nudges his rook forward to take the queen. Dimitri curses. Odessa sighs.

“You are an idiot,” she says before vanishing once more.

“Yes, you are.” Michal steps forward then, breaking the moment with his regal bearing and cold stare—so at odds with the man he allowed me to see below. The mask slipped back into place the instant we left the safety of the grotto. “We need to talk,” he says to his cousin now.

Dimitri grimaces. “Sounds dull.”

Michal’s lip curls just as Odessa reappears on a stone staircase tucked into the back of the tower. “Whatever it is can wait.” Sansspectacles now, she glides toward us in a sweeping robe of turquoise silk, pulling me into an uncharacteristically fierce embrace. “Thereyou are, Célie. I was just about to come find you. It was all Michal’s idea—as I’m sure you already know—but I need to make it perfectly clear I never wanted to make such a spectacle of tearing out his heart. I’ve always advocated for doing it in private,” she adds sweetly.

“Though I didn’t hear a complaint either,” Michal says.

She ignores him, pulling back to look at me. Despite their repartee, her dark eyes shine with uncertainty as she waits for my reaction. She clearly expects me to be angry about the role she played in the insurrection, to be hurt by her part in the subterfuge. And perhaps I am. Instead of warning me to stay in my room, she could’ve explained what was going to happen; she could’ve included me. Instead she forced me to watch Michal die—forced me to watchherkill him, and feel every ounce of pain associated with that betrayal. And yet...

I cannot help but remember Michal’s words.

No one judges you for it, Célie, but you’ve made your distaste for Requiem known.

Perhaps I’m not the only one who has been hurt.

This island might be strange and cruel at times—just like its inhabitants—but it isn’tonlystrange and cruel. Clearly, Odessa has built a full and gratifying life here with her family; this very room is a testament to both.

Returning her embrace, I squeeze her tightly, and I try to convey the depth of my own relief that she did not murder her cousin. And perhaps an apology. “I understand,” I say quietly. Then— “I’m also quite glad my friend isn’t a power-hungry madwoman.”

“Oh, she’s still that.” Hands in his pockets, Dimitri strolls forward with a grin as Odessa releases me hastily, turning away and blinking hard. My heart pangs at the unexpected display of emotion—or was it because I called her friend?I should’ve sought her out sooner.Though she’d never admit it, Odessa feels just as deeply as anyone, and the strain and uncertainty of the last few days must’ve weighed heavily on her.

Before I can join her on the plush settee across the chessboard, however, Dimitri steps in front of Michal, blocking my path. “I love that furrowed brow of yours as much as the next person, cousin, but shall we smooth it out before it becomes permanent? I assume you charged up here to reprimand me for something. By all means, let’s get down to—”

Michal seizes his collar abruptly, jerking him closer and leaning down to scent his throat. “I knew it,” he says over Dimitri’s protests, shoving him away again. With a curse, Dimitri careens backward into a mannequin riddled with pins.

“What are you—? Stop,stop!” Wide-eyed at the abrupt shift in atmosphere, Odessa moves in a blur to catch them both, but she releases her brother when he hisses and bares his teeth, whirling to face Michal incredulously.

“Have you gonemad?”

Michal steps in front of me, and Dimitri mirrors the movement, bringing the two entirely too close for a calm, well-reasoned conversation. Though I’d known this would happen, my stomach still plunges with regret as I remember Dimitri’s admission in the grotto:As hard as it might be for you to believe, Michal and I were like brothers once.Looking at them now, such a thingdoesfeel quite hard to believe.

“I warned you what would happen,” Michal says softly. “I warned you what I would do if you betrayed us again.”