Page 27 of Dark & Darker Still (Vane and Roc: Origin)

Twenty-Six

Alice

Salty comes through on his promise and is able to slip me into the palace through a staff door on the northeast side of the building. From there, he gives me clear instructions on how to reach Callista’s private quarters and how best to avoid the guards.

The Darkland palace was constructed in the neo-noir style with jutting buttresses and soaring turrets and stone gargoyles perched at the roofline. It’s one of my favorite buildings in all of Darkland.

I’ve rarely had the opportunity to be inside—once for a charity ball, and once for a wedding of a lesser noble, someone Vane and Roc were related to.

Any event held at the palace is hosted in the ballroom, where no expense was spared on the elegant boldness of the decorating and the architecture.

Here, on the other side of the building, saved mostly for servants, the walls are gray plaster, the millwork plain wood.

All expenses were spared here, even the lighting system.

The halls are dark, the windows fewer and farther between.

I get up to the third floor easily and pass only a few servant girls who are busy going about their tasks.

Callista’s rooms are in the southern wing. When I come to her closed door, I stall, realizing I didn’t think this part through. Do I just barge in? What if the door is locked? I don’t know how to pick a lock.

I lift my fist and give the door a sharp rap.

“Come in,” Callista calls absently.

I suppose the most obvious strategy is sometimes the best one.

I push the door in. It opens on a short hallway that then opens to a sitting room.

Callista has repurposed hers to be both a sitting room and a workroom.

On the left, two black velvet chairs around a fireplace, and to the right, floating shelves and a long cabinet, the top full of work instruments, stacked books, hand-labeled jars and bowls.

Callista is at the counter grinding something down in a mortar with a stone pestle.

When she spots me, the grinding stops, the pestle going still.

I’m the last person she expected to enter the room.

She slowly sets the bowl down, then places her hand on the countertop.

“What do you want?”

It does not escape me that just a foot away from her fingertips lies a sharp dagger.

“I need your queen of hearts.”

I may have surprised her by walking through the door, but I have not surprised her with this request.

She adjusts her weight, shifting from one foot to the other. The movement puts her hand several inches closer to the blade.

“You’re trying to go back,” she states.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

There’s a soft parting of air behind me.

“Lainey was innocent. She didn’t deserve to die.”

“And you think Rosalind did?”

“I didn’t say that. But even if I had, Rosalind likely felt no pain. Did you see what they did to Lainey?” My voice catches.

Callista purses her lips. “You of all people know there is no such thing as mercy or fairness when power is at stake.”

“It’s my fault though.” The confession is out before I can think better of it.

“What do you mean?”

What difference does it make if I tell her my secrets? I don’t plan for Callista to walk out of here and Nix would never judge me. If I speak them aloud, then maybe there will be some respite from the guilt gnawing at my insides.

“I wound back Roc’s clock on accident. It was supposed to be Vane.”

Callista’s mouth parts in shock. “He didn’t do it on purpose?”

“No.”

“Why do it at all?”

“I just wanted to scare Gen.”

She laughs, but I can tell it’s mocking. “You are your own worst enemy, you know that, don’t you?”

Of course I do.

“Let me make this right.”

“You can’t. You can’t bring back Rosalind. And now Vane and Roc will be banished for good. There is no way for them to dig themselves out now.”

I breathe in deeply, trying to quell the rising well of anger and shame. I’m not going to pretend that what happened to Rosalind and what happened to Lainey was the same. I’m not here to argue about the cause, the consequences, or the results.

“I’m going back,” I say. “I only need a heart card.”

She drums her fingers on the counter. “You can’t have it.” The dagger is now a foot within reach. Is she a good throw? Can she send it sailing right for me, killing me where I stand? And if so, how long do I have?

“I thought you might say as much.”

I’m just about to give Nix the signal to act, but the door bursts open behind us and Vane steps in.

Fuck.

What is he doing here?

“I’m popular today,” Callista says.

Vane ignores the witch and looks right at me. “Whatever you think you’re doing, don’t.”

“Vane…” His name comes out sounding like a plea.

“Walk out this door with me, Al.” He glances at Callista, his teeth grinding together. “They’ll get what’s coming to them.”

“Ohhh a threat,” Callista says.

“I can’t,” I tell him.

“Al—”

“She can’t,” Callista cuts in, “because the guilt and the shame will not let her.”

Vane’s expression falls. He glances between me and Callista, deciding.

“What’s she talking about?”

My eyes are growing blurry before I’ve gotten a word out. But I can’t tell him. I can’t admit it to him and then see the realization, the betrayal bleed into his face.

“Please leave,” I tell him.

“Alice. Tell me right now.”

“Ask yourself,” Callista says, “how the infamous Madd brothers would be so careless as to let time run out on the night of a very public celebration, of all nights.”

Vane’s gaze cuts to me. He doesn’t have the truth yet, but I can see the questions are starting to mount.

“After all,” the witch goes on, “who was the one person losing everything that night? It wasn’t Roc. Not by a long shot.” She moves away from the cabinet. “Who was the one who might want a little chaos in the name of revenge?”

“No,” he says.

The tears are spilling over now. I can’t stop them even if I wanted to.

“Al, tell me she’s lying.”

I swipe at the tears. My voice is thick when I say, “I can’t.”

Vane’s eyes flash yellow right before he lunges at me.