Page 16

“Azzy, is that you out there?”

I peeked through the cracked door of my bedroom and into the empty hallway. The sconce closest to me flickered with warm light, casting shadows along the floor that made the pattern on the carpet appear to dance. It was customary for the curtains to be drawn this time of day to block the harshest rays of the afternoon sun. Mother often complained that sunlight gave her headaches, so the curtains stayed drawn more time than not around the chateau.

Checking the hallway once more, I chalked up the noise I’d heard to my imagination, shutting the door behind me as I returned to my desk. But as I pulled my chair away from my work, a quick knock roused me once more. Scurrying back, I thrust open the door just in time to catch a glimpse of purple hair and the gentle squeak of the boy who dashed down the hall.

“I saw you!” I shouted, laughter bubbling up along with the words. Abandoning my coursework, I tore down the hallway, giving chase to the other boy. Around the corner of the hall, I skidded to a stop, finding no evidence of my target. Sucking in a deep breath to calm my thundering pulse, I panned my gaze from left to right, moving slowly down the stretch of hallway. I was almost at the next turn when something caught my eye—a glimmer of light from around the corner—and I reached out, grasping the boy by the shoulder as his image flickered into reality with a blur. “Got you!”

The purple-haired boy scowled. “Not fair! I had to scratch my nose! That’s the only reason you saw me.”

“Do you really want to get into what is and isn’t fair, Azzy? We’re playing hide and seek and only one of us can turn invisible.” I gave him a playful shove. “Or at least mostly invisible.”

The boy scowled back at me, baring a row of fangs. “Just wait till I get better at it! Papa says that I fidget too much, but soon I’ll be able to disappear like that—” he snapped his fingers, the scowl morphing into a grin. “And you’ll never find me!”

The thought made my heart flutter in a weird rhythm. “But you won’t actually leave, right, Azzy? When you're older, I mean. You’re not going to disappear on me, are you?”

I’d never considered it before. Azzy and I had been the best of friends since I collided with him in the hallway at the age of five. His father worked in the kitchens, so Azzy and I had spent many an afternoon hiding in the cabinets and scrounging for apple peels or the rare pastry. I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

Azzy’s smile faded a bit, the pointed ears on top of his head drooping as he looked away. “I don’t know, Tobi. Papa told me that we’ll stay as long as the madame is pleased with us.”

“Then I’ll make sure she never sends you away,” I assured him, reaching out and taking Azzy’s hand in mine. “That way, we can play together forever!”

“But I’m clumsy,” the boy replied. “And I’m no good at the house chores. Papa told Mr. Chatterly about the madame being upset because I broke her favorite teacup. I didn’t mean to—I was trying to help. Mr. Chatterly spelled it back together, but the madame said that his ‘primitive magic’ ruined the taste of the tea.”

“Mother can be harsh sometimes,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze. “But that’s only because she wants us to be our best. I’m sure you won’t break another cup.”

The boy nodded solemnly, his ear remaining deflated atop his head. I couldn’t bear to see my only friend so upset.

“I found you,” I told him, releasing my grip on his hand. “So, now it’s my turn to hide. Close your eyes! No peeking!”

That was enough to perk Azzy up, and he covered his violet eyes, beginning to count softly under his breath. I took off like a bolt, running down the hall and diving around corners, trying to put as much distance as I could between me and the other boy. All of my best hiding places had been exhausted by this point in our game, so I had to think quickly or be caught out in the open. Ducking under one of the maids as she dusted a framed painting in the hall, I slid through the next door—one of the many guest rooms—and dove under the ornately carved bedframe. The plush rug underneath cushioned the sound of my shuffling as I crawled deeper, slowing my breath as best I could.

Lurking in the shadows, I waited for Azzy to find me.

When the door of the bedroom opened a few minutes later, I sucked in a breath but quickly realized that it was not my friend in search of me but two other figures, shutting the door gently behind them.

“—out of your mind, Balthus? Where would you have us go? Back to the slums in the Magi City?”

“There are places outside of the city, Andres. Places where we Unseen can walk in the daylight and not be ridiculed. Where you could raise your younglings to aspire to be more than just servants ? —”

“Quiet!” hissed the other voice. “Don’t let anyone hear you spouting off such nonsense. It’ll get you locked up or worse. Then what would happen to little Azzy? Think of your son, Balthus.”

“I am thinking of him,” Balthus spat back. “What kind of life will he have if we stay here?”

“A good life,” the other Unseen said. There was a twinge of sadness in his voice, as if he didn’t fully believe his own words. “The best he could wish for. Please, Balthus, don’t let your head get filled with these crazy ideas. It can only lead to trouble.”

There was a pause and the wet sound of a kiss between the two. “I care for you, Andres. Really, I do. But I can’t just stand by and watch our lives wither in the darkness. I’m tired of hiding away.”

“You speak these grandiose plans,” Andres replies with a sigh. “But don’t you see? It’s Azrael who will end up paying for your carelessness. Worry about him and leave all this foolishness behind. Now, come. The madame will be expecting her afternoon tea.”

The door opened and shut, a quiet settling back over the room.

I’d never heard the servants speak that way before. In fact, I tried to remember the last time I’d heard Azzy’s father say more than two words. Balthus was the head chef at our chateau, in charge of our meals and the goings on of the kitchen. Azzy had been trying to learn under him since he was old enough to hold a knife but had a proclivity for unintentionally setting things ablaze.

I lay still, mulling over the conversation in my head. Did Balthus really want to leave the chateau? Wasn’t he happy here? I’d only ever seen him smile when I was nearby. He’d worked here longer than I’d been alive, according to Mother. Even when he was carrying Azzy, he took only a few weeks off after delivering, then was right back in the kitchen.

If he left, would he take Azzy with him? Suddenly, it wasn’t just Mother that I needed to convince to let my friend stay, but Balthus as well. Digging myself out from under the bed, I moved for the door, but it swung open before I could reach for it.

A hand reached out, bopping me on the end of the nose.

Azzy beamed at me, his snaggletooth fang protruding over his bottom lip. “Found you! Wow, Tobi, you’re really bad at this game.”

“I am not!” I retorted, retreating further into the guest room and away from the purple-haired boy. “I was in a really good hiding space, but I had to get up because—” I stopped, not wanting to bring up Azzy’s father in case he’d go searching for him. It was better to keep him here, at least until I could figure out what to do next. “Never mind. I’m it, so I guess I’ll count again.”

I’d keep him distracted until I figured out what I could do to fix the whole Balthus situation. There must be something.

“Before you do,” Azzy said, following me across the ornate rug. He kept a distance from me, twiddling his thumbs together as he stared down at the floor. “I wanted to ask you something, Tobi.”

The weird fluttery feeling in my stomach that usually preceded my conversations with Azzy intensified to the point where I thought it might lift me off the ground.

“Yes?”

“Did you mean it when you said that you wouldn’t let the madame send me away?”

“Of course I did. You’re very important to me, Azzy. You’re my best friend.”

The boy’s cheeks flushed red, and he kept his eyes trained on the ground between us. “Okay. You can count now.”

I nodded, letting out an exhale to try and calm my stuttering pulse. Azzy stepped closer to me, the toes of his shoes nearly touching mine. And before I could question it, the boy leaned it, pressing his lips gently to mine. My heart stammered, then pounded against my chest like a caged animal.

“Thank you,” Azzy said as he pulled away, cheeks even more ruddy.

“For what?” I asked, breathless.

“For choosing me. You didn’t have to.”

I started back at the boy, confusion knitting my brows together. But before I could question him further, the door opened again, and I nearly fell over at the sight of Mother standing in the doorway.

“There you are, Tobias. You’ve kept me waiting for our lesson.”

I stepped quickly in front of Azzy, silently wishing for him to turn invisible. “Mother, my apologies. I didn’t realize how late the day had grown.”

Mother’s eyes narrowed as she looked through me to the boy who stood defiantly behind me. “Distractions can have that effect, Tobias. I would hope to avoid more of them in the future. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mother. I’m ready to join you now.” I stepped forward but paused as Mother held out her hand, her eyes still locked on the Unseen boy.

“Would you care to join us, Azrael? It would seem Tobias may need a hand with this afternoon’s lesson.”

“Yes, madame,” Azzy replied, bowing to her. His eyes landed on me, and I could only shrug as we followed Mother from the room and down the hallways towards her office.

We dared not speak so close to Mother, but I allowed my hand to brush against Azzy’s as we walked, my mind replaying the moment our lips touched over and over again. The thrill it sent down my spine kept me from dwelling on whatever was awaiting me at Mother’s lesson.

The doors to her office swung open of their own accord as we approached, and there was not a hitch in her stride as she entered, quickly taking her place behind the long wooden desk.

Azzy and I hovered awkwardly on the opposite side, awaiting further instructions.

“It’s time for you to practice the most sacred of Adored magic, Tobias. Do you know of which I speak?”

Ice flooded my veins. I nodded, afraid that my teeth would chatter if I unclenched my jaw. Mother had taught me many of the minor magics by now, but I had little experience when it came to wielding the Command.

“Good. You’ve already selected the perfect partner for this exercise, as the Unseen hardly have a will of their own to begin with.” Mother rounded the desk, propping herself on the corner as she folded her arms across her chest. “Now, what shall the order be? Something simple… ah, of course. I want you to command this boy to kneel.”

“W-What?”

“Was I not clear, Tobias?”

The tone in Mother’s voice was a warning. Azzy gave me a quizzical look, not understanding what it was Mother asked for me to do. I swallowed down the nausea rising in my gut, then turned back to Mother, giving her a quick nod.

I squared myself, reaching deep within to wrap the aura of my magic around me before projecting it outward. Azzy bristled at the touch of it, his eyes finding mine once more, now shining with a glimmer of hurt.

“Kneel,” I merely whispered, the word burning hot in my throat.

Azzy sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring, but did not move from his standing position. I flinched at the crack of Mother’s whip.

“Again, Tobias. With feeling.”

* * *

“Azzy!”

The name tore from my throat, ringing out into the empty sanctuary and reverberating against the pallid walls. The details of the memory sank further as I clutched the back of the long bench that served as my bed, muddling with the events of the previous night.

My muscles ached, though I wasn’t sure if the cause lay in my near re-death experience or from sleeping on the dilapidated wooden surface all night.

“Does something trouble you?”

I groaned, running a hand through my greasy hair before looking up to find Cirian standing over me. He’d somehow secured another tunic during the night, and I couldn’t decide whether or not I was thankful for the fact that his body was covered once more.

“It’s nothing,” I said, standing quickly and taking a moment to refamiliarize myself with my surroundings. Dim light shined through the cracks of the walls and ceiling, casting patches of warm-hued light across the space. Cirian stood in one such spot, his hair mimicking blazing flames against the shadowy backdrop. It made it difficult to look away.

“I’ll take you at your word,” Cirian replied, fighting a smile. “How are you fairing this fine morning?”

“Like someone who slept on a plank,” I muttered, rubbing at the small of my back.

This coaxed a laugh from Cirian, causing the emblazoned hair on display to bounce. “Are you feeling any lightheadedness? Lack of sensation in your appendages? Abnormal desires?”

The only desire I had was to relieve myself and take a scalding hot bath. And if I were being honest, for Cirian to discard his tunic once more.

I kept all of them to myself.

“I’m not becoming a Distortion,” I replied, reining in the intrusive thoughts. I flexed my back till a series of popping noises relieved a bit of the pressure. “Is there a powder room in this hovel by chance?”

Cirian’s smile didn’t fade. “I’m afraid not. But nature provides a wonderful service just outside the doors. Our ride should be ready once you return.”

“Ride?” I questioned, suddenly suspicious. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Back to Cradle for the time being,” Cirian explained, stepping close enough I could smell the familiar scent of clove coming from him. “Adoranda’s forces are likely still active in the area, so we need to be cautious about our next moves. Once we’re safely under the Church’s protection, I’ll make contact with the Rebellion, and we’ll get you back to your lovely necromancer.”

“ Bastien, ” I corrected him with a scowl, my annoyance seeping through more easily due to my exhaustion. “I know you’re intelligent enough to remember his name, so stop pretending otherwise.”

“You assume I wish to commit anything about the man to memory. The fact of the matter is that I address him by the only quality in which I find interest. Besides his penchant for forbidden magic, he’s otherwise dreadfully unexceptional.”

“You speak as though you know him,” I countered, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Why is that?”

Cirian’s obsidian eyes rolled back as he chuckled. “I assure you, Toto, yesterday afternoon was the first time I had the pleasure of speaking with the necromancer. I’m certain he’s spent the majority of his life avoiding Hallowed like me for all the reasons you’ve already been made aware.”

“Ah, that’s right. So, your biases are the source of your contempt. Good to know that you are not as nuanced as I gave you credit for.”

Cirian’s knowing grin didn’t falter at the ribbing. “Make all the assumptions you wish, Tobias. It’s always been your forte.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked through gritted teeth.

The cheery demeanor spackled across Cirian’s visage faltered. “You’ll remember one day. If the Source sees fit.” He reached into his pocket, producing a small receiver with a coiled antenna. It crackled to life in his hand, a voice speaking low in a language that I couldn’t understand. He looked up at me after the message was relayed. “Transportation will be arriving shortly. I’ve already lowered the wards around the entrance, but be cautious of your surroundings while you relieve yourself, yes? I wouldn’t want to have to come to your aid while you’re holding your cock.”

I huffed a sigh in his direction. What had he meant earlier about my making assumptions? Was there even more from our past relationship than the trysts I actively had to fight from resurfacing in my mind? I had enough distractions going on already.

Cirian moved toward the altar, then halted, turning to face me once more. “Do you still have the Anima stone?”

I patted the protrusion in my pocket, the gem’s warm surface pressing against the side of my thigh.

This seemed to satisfy him, and he gave a curt nod. “Good. Keep it close.”

As he retreated to the dais at the front of the sanctuary, I could ignore the discomfort no longer and I turned to make my way outside in search of seclusion enough to release my basest of needs. Outside of the sanctuary, the morning was cool against my skin. Sunlight filtered down through the thick cover of trees overhead, washing the dirt road in equal parts shadow and brilliance. Without the wards surrounding me, the sounds of the woods swirled around—insects buzzing through the air, the skittering of leaves under rodent’s feet, an incessant bird song that repeated itself like a record jumping the track—and as I walked around the back of the dilapidated building, my thoughts drifted nearly as aimlessly.

Lynette was alive. I hardly had the opportunity to relish in the fact before all hell had broken loose back at the camp. Not to mention the bombshell that was Bastien. Just the thought of him was enough to start the tempest of muddled memories again, springing up from the recesses of my mind— A lazy afternoon, sipping coffee on my apartment balcony, books discarded on the table as Bastien’s fingers tangled in the curls of my hair. An evening spent whispering sweet nothings back and forth in a dark booth, purple smoke hanging thick in the air. A bright morning spent walking through a crowded marketplace, rows of bright flowers in dazzling arrays across every direction— at that moment, they felt like memories from another life. Like I was spying on someone else’s romance.

Would I still feel that way after the ritual? Or would the affection I was supposed to feel for him return like the pieces of a puzzle falling into place?

I wish I could say.

Around the trunk of a thick oak tree, I stopped, unfastening my pants and allowing myself the momentary pleasure of an emptied bladder.

Retracing my steps to the sanctuary, I took my time enjoying the pockets of warmth brought on by the sun before pulling open the heavy wooden door. A few moments passed before I located Cirian, knelt by the altar at the end of the aisle. His soft voice carried through the still air, the words mulling together in a stream so fluid that it almost sounded like a song. Quietly, I made my way up the aisle, watching the man as he shifted his position, arms extending and the muscles along his back pulling taut as he shrugged off his tunic, letting it fall to the ground behind him. From his kneeling position, Cirian tucked a leg under him, balancing on one foot as he remained in a low squat, centering himself. The prayer, or whatever it was he was reciting, continued uninterrupted as he moved through a progression of postures, his skin quickly beginning to glisten with the fruits of his exertion.

I had never witnessed a communing ritual before. Mother had not allowed me nor Lynette to delve into the practices of the Hallowed during our studies, preferring that we focus on more ‘appropriate’ subjects. There was an abject beauty in the way Cirian’s body moved, how he bent and twisted himself into shapes I would have thought impossible, all the while his concentration never faltering.

It was impressive, to say the least. And the longer I watched him, the more I wondered if my fascination was with the ritual itself or the beautiful man performing it.

Cirian’s body seized suddenly, his limbs going rigid as the prayer ceased, casting the sanctuary into an eerie silence. I took a cautious step toward him but halted as Cirian’s posture straightened, turning to face me. The whites of his eyes were swallowed by cerulean light. It poured from his orifices, nearly blinding me as his mouth opened, a guttural voice echoing through him:

“Son of the Second, lost in the ether.

You have been beckoned, Death is your teacher.

Awakening draws nigh, the fragmented power,

Longs to be whole, and late grows the hour.

“Bind them together, imbue them with might.

Test the connections betwixt shadow and light.

Keep close the prophet, cling to the seeker,

Stand firm with the rebel, wake not the sleeper.

“Son of the Second, your journey begins.

Wastelands and deserts, flee wide across the stems.

Look for the mirror, reflecting the truth.

Beware the distortion, trust only the sooth.”