Page 20

Azzy was supposed to meet me outside my bedroom an hour ago. I checked the watch in my pocket for the tenth time before deciding I would go looking for him. Perhaps his chores had taken longer than expected, and he was still in the kitchen helping his father.

The kitchen was bustling like always when I arrived, but the air was heavy, like a great sorrowful cloud hung overhead. There was no music to be heard between the Unseen as they went about their tasks. No humming or whistling or murmured cordiality back and forth, only the stark silence and gentle clattering of dishes.

“Excuse me,” I asked one of the mortal maids close by. “Have you seen Azzy?”

The maid’s eyes widened, and she looked like she was about to cry. “He… he’s not here, young master. He left this morning.”

“Left?” I repeated, not understanding. “Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. Nobody does. I’m sorry.”

The woman bowed, hurrying away from me. Shock rooted me in place as I processed the news. Where was Balthus? Surely, he would know what happened to his son. Willing my feet forward, I ran through the kitchen in search of him, but he was absent as well.

“Did you need something, young master?”

One of the older Unseen with greying hair and a long, crooked nose had spotted me frantically pacing by the pantry.

“Where is Balthus?” I asked, breathless.

The Unseen winced, his eyes crinkling with deeper wrinkles. “He’s out in the gardens, I would imagine. But you should know, young master ? —”

“Thank you!” I didn’t wait for the rest of the answer, already bolting through the servants’ entrance and around the back of the chateau. The gardens sprawled ahead of me, rows of hedges and rosebushes, but I wouldn’t be deterred. I ran down each row, panting as I searched for Azzy’s father. Questions buzzed in my mind like a swarm of insects. How could he have left without telling me? Where would he have gone that his father didn’t accompany him? Why was there a terrible pit in my stomach?

Near the edge of the garden, I found him knelt in the dirt, spreading what appeared to be a layer of fertilizer around the base of a rose bush. He looked up as I approached, his violet eyes—so much like Azzy’s—widened, and he scrambled to his feet.

“Tobias!” he nearly shouted, reaching for me with his sullied hands and then thinking better of it. “Please, tell me. Tell me he’s safe, that’s all I ask. I beg of you, just tell me he’s safe.”

“I don’t understand,” I replied, taking a step back from him. “Are you talking about Azzy? Where is he?”

Balthus sank to his knees, tears spilling down the lavender stubble on his cheeks. “Please, just tell me my boy is okay. That’s all I ask.”

“Your boy is fine, Balthus,” a voice called from behind me. The Unseen stiffened at those words, his gaze moving past me.

I turned to see Mother standing by a rosebush, admiring the blooms. She gave me a slight nod before coming over, careful to keep a distance from the stench of the manure and the man who wept at our feet.

“Tobias, I’m glad you’re here. You can see the fruits of your labor.”

“My what?”

“Balthus here was the one whispering conspiracy around the hallways, trying to get others to join him in abandoning their duties for a doomed rebellion. Now, Balthus, I had every mind to order your execution without a second thought. However, my daughter saw fit to err on the side of mercy. You have her to thank for your head still being attached. But Tobias here,” she paused, resting a hand on my shoulder. “He reminded me that there was something more effective I could rely on than magic to get what I wanted. See, Tobias, all I had to do was inflict enough fear in dear Balthus that he’d never think to question the status quo ever again.”

Cold dread pulsed through my veins. “What did you do, Mother?”

“Please, Madame Greene,” Balthus pleaded, snot dripping from his nose. “I never meant you or your family any harm. I just wanted a better life for my son. That’s all I wanted.”

“And he’ll have it,” Mother replied, her grip on my shoulder tightening. “You can rest every night knowing that dear Zazzy—or whatever his name is—is well taken care of and will remain that way so long as you remain loyal to this house. Am I understood?”

“Y-Yes,” Balthus managed through his sobs, bowing lower to the ground. “Yes, I understand.”

I wanted to vomit.

“Good. See, Tobias? You and your sister were right. I didn’t need to stoop so low as to have someone killed. He’s so much more useful to me alive. Balthus, don’t forget my peonies. They won’t bloom fully come Spring if they aren’t swimming in shit by the end of the day, yes?”

I slowly walked back to the house, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

It was the first life I’d ruined.

It wouldn’t be the last.

* * *

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Reginald.”

Cirian addressed me as I entered Mother’s office, carrying the silver tray.

“Apologies, Master Cirian. The kitchen was overrun with hungry soldiers, and it took some time to get everything in order.” I set down the tray, making it a point to set Mother’s place first, then the Cardinal’s, and finally Cirian’s.

Mother scoffed, her nostrils flaring. “Those lollygaggers have been slacking ever since we made the Chateau into a base of operations. I mean, really, their entire purpose is to cook, so you’d think they’d be excited to do it for more people?”

I poured Mother’s cup, then set the plate of shortbreads down in front of her. She eyed them with gluttonous intent. Not matter how powerful she was, her head could always be turned by a sweet.

“Good help is so difficult to find these days, isn’t it, Adoranda?” Cirian asked, motioning toward me. “Sure, Reggie here may have dedicated his life in service to the Source, but does that mean he can slack off when I’m not looking? I say, no way.”

The Cardinal let out a quiet huff, a dissent to the conversation if I’d ever heard one.

“Tell me about it,” Mother responded, picking up one of the cookies and dunking it into her steaming tea. “I always knew I felt a kinship to you, Cirian. You’re a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it—nay, demand it. It’s a rare trait in Adored men, unfortunately. Most lack the gumption to even speak to me, let alone commiserate over the staff.”

“That is their loss, then,” Cirian replied, raising his teacup in a gesture of goodwill to Mother. “Because every conversation with you is a delight.”

I could practically hear the Cardinal’s eyes rolling around her head.

A soft knock on the door and one of the maids poked her head through the opening.

“Yes, what is it?” Mother barked after swallowing her mouthful of cookie.

The maid hurried over to the desk, bending down to whisper in Mother’s ear. I kept a comfortable distance from them, so I wasn’t able to make out any of the message.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mother said, sliding her cup forward as she stood and dusting the crumbs from her jacket. “There’s a matter that requires my attention. A lady’s work is never done, aye, Sancha?”

“I suppose not,” the Cardinal responded coolly.

“Don’t take too long, now,” Cirian added, standing as Mother exited the room. Once the door shut behind her, he sank back into his chair.

The Cardinal shifted in her seat, straightening out her robes. “Must you be such a shameless flirt, Cirian? I am finding it difficult to keep my breakfast down.”

“This is why I told you I needed to be here,” he replied with a sly grin. “If I’d left you to your own devices, you two would be sitting here in an awkward silence.”

The Cardinal made a noise I can only assume was a laugh. “This is no improvement, I assure you.”

Cirian bowed his head toward his master, though his smile was still prominently displayed. “My apologies, Your Eminence. I will do better to dim my charm and wit so it does not offend you.”

“Any dimmer and you’d be acting like her tawdry son, may his soul find peace.”

Cirian’s smile faded, and he did his best not to look at me.

“You trained me to use every tool in my arsenal in service of the Source, so I must remind you that this shameless flirting is all your fault.”

The Cardinal let out another clipped laugh, reaching for her teacup.

I couldn’t help but empathize with Cirian. I’d spent the majority of my first life using my charms and magic to woo and flatter and ultimately manipulate others into doing what I wished. Well, what Mother wished, but that didn’t absolve me. How many lives had I ruined in the process? How many hearts had I fractured with promises I never intended to keep?

How many of those promises did I give to Cirian during those long afternoons spent in my chambers?

And perhaps that explained the moment Cirian and I shared earlier today. It was the ghostly remnants of a decade-old affection, heightened by the urgency of the moment, nothing more. Another empty promise divvied out.

I couldn’t consider it more. Not now.

The door sprang open again, Mother reentering the room with a familiar blonde woman in tow. I sucked in a breath, hoping my mask muffled the noise enough to go unnoticed as Lorelei Orion leaned against the corner of Mother’s desk, her eyes locked on Cirian.

“Apologies,” said Mother before sinking back into her seat, her expression sour. “This is Lorelei, a Truthsayer from the house of Orion. She’s been leading the interrogation against the Reviled practitioner, but he’s proving stubborn. I need him to remain in our custody for a while longer, Sancha.”

“His judgment cannot be delayed,” the Cardinal replied, her tone stern. “You know the law, Adoranda. You must release him to us immediately.”

Mother rose to her full height, looking down on the Cardinal. “You misunderstand me. I am not asking for your permission. That man will not be leaving this place until I get what I want from him.”

“Why not order him to speak?” Cirian interjected. “Surely, no one would be able to resist you, Your Grace.”

“My magic can make him speak, yes,” Mother replied, her edge softening a bit as she addressed Cirian. “But it does not ensure that his words are truthful. He could merely babble for days, and we’d be no closer to finding the answers I seek. Truth is hard earned, I’m afraid.”

The Cardinal didn’t seem impressed as she also stood, her robes falling around her body in a hoop. “Take me to the Reviled. Now.”

“You don’t give the orders here,” Mother scoffed. “You can have him when I’m done with him and not a moment sooner. If you’d like to wait around, be my guest. I’ll have a room prepared.”

“Madame Greene,” Cirian inserted himself once again. “There must be a middle ground we can find here. There’s no need for hostility.”

Lorelei snorted a laugh, pulling out her little leather notebook and flipping it open. “That’s rich, coming from you. What’s the matter, Acolyte? Are you mad that we’re holding one of your little friends?”

Cirian didn’t falter, staring down Lorelei before replying, “I’m sure Her Eminence and the madame would love to hear the story of how you walked into the Cradle yesterday with said Reviled and the madame’s recently resurrected son?”

The Cardinal and Mother broke their stare down, turning to Cirian.

“What?” they echoed one another.

The doors flew open, the conversation evaporating as a number of militia soldiers poured into the room, including Renata.

“Barricade it,” Renata ordered, the soldiers setting to work quickly to move bookshelves in front of the door.

“What is the meaning of this?” Mother questioned. Shouting came from outside of the room, and then a deep rumbling shook the floor beneath us.

“Apologies, Your Grace, but a small Rebellion force has infiltrated the chateau,” Renata spoke quickly. “Our forces are working now to contain them.”

“Preposterous!” Mother shouted, her fist slamming into the desk and leaving an indent of splintered wood. “How could they have gotten in? The wards in place should have stopped them in their tracks.”

Renata grimaced. “We believe they had help from within the chateau, Your Grace. We don’t have confirmation yet, but?—”

“Those animals,” Mother seethed, her teeth gritted and her eyes burning with a fiery rage. The air thickened around her, sparks of gold igniting sporadically. “It was the mongrels I keep. I know it. I open my home to them, and this is how they repay the kindness? So be it. Captain, I want you to issue the order. All of the Unseen are to be rounded up and brought down to the cellar. Lorelei will extract the truth from them, and then they will all face the consequences of their actions.”

Lorelei frowned. “That’s not really part of my contract?—”

“Silence,” Mother ordered. “You’ll receive ample compensation.”

“You can’t be serious, Adoranda.” The Cardinal’s voice sounded shaken, as if Mother’s barbaric actions had finally thrown her off balance. “You mean to punish those who had nothing to do with the Rebellion?”

“Their silence is their crime,” Mother continued, moving from her place by the desk to where Renata stood, supervising the barricade’s construction. “Give the order. If there is any resistance, they are to use whatever force is necessary. Activate the collars, and any that attempt to leave the premises will be exterminated. Am I understood?”

Renata blanched but nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”

This couldn’t be happening. Mother was going to cull the entire Unseen staff? That was dozens of lives. People I’d grown up with, loyal and kind people who didn’t deserve this treatment. I had to stop this. I had to get to them before the soldiers did. Would Azzy be able to help? Would we be able to spirit the Unseen staff away before Mother’s wrath would be unleashed?

That would all depend on whether or not I could get out of there.

The Cardinal and Cirian muttered to each other, casting glances at Mother as she barked more orders to the captain. Lorelei was writing in her notebook, an almost bored expression on her face, and I was stuck pretending to be a servant when all I really wanted was to bust down the doors and run screaming down the halls. Thankfully, the opportunity would come shortly.

Another rumble rocked the floor beneath us, the shouting intensifying from outside the doors. Renata pressed a finger to her ear, her gaze going distant as she received a message. “They’re headed for the cellar. Our attempts to stop them have failed thus far.”

“Idiots,” Mother seethed, pushing aside one of the soldiers, her golden aura expanding from her body as she raised a hand into the air in front of her. With a deafening screech and a shower of sparks, the barricade was shoved aside, the door flung open, and a plume of smoke poured into the room. “We make for the cellar, Captain. Sancha, Cirian, you’re coming with us. If you want to take your precious prisoner, you’ll have to help us keep him here.”

“Madame,” Renata said, stepping toward the imposing woman, then shrinking back. “It’s not safe for you. Please allow us to?—”

“I am sick of your failings,” Mother retorted, pushing up the sleeves of her emerald-shaded jacket. “There is not a Magi alive who can best me, so I would cast your fears elsewhere. Now, move. ”

Searing heat washed over me, stirring my body into motion. Looking around the room, everyone but the Cardinal—and, more surprisingly, Lorelei—did the same, our bodies locking into step behind Mother as she charged through the open doors and into the smoke-filled hallway. Shouting quickly overtook us, the soldiers moving to flank Mother and Renata while Cirian, the Cardinal, and I brought up the rear.

“This is madness, Adoranda,” the Cardinal spat, raising her voice above the din of chaos. Being so close to her, the strength of her aura, wrapped tightly around her body, sent electric trills across my skin.

Mother let out a sharp laugh as we rounded the corner. “If you’re frightened, Sancha, you can see yourself out.”

The smoke cleared a bit when we reached the foyer, the high ceiling allowing a better vantage. The large table where the map had been sprawled earlier was overturned, papers scattered across the marble flooring, and there were several gouges taken out of the stairs leading up to the second floor as if some large-mawed creature had taken bites from it. Renata shouted orders to the lingering soldiers, giving instructions to sweep the first and upper floors for Unseen staff and bring them down the cellar. Cirian glanced at me, his expression grim, and I knew immediately we were of one accord. If we let Mother do this, we would be just as guilty for the slaughter.

We had to do something.

As if he had read my mind, Cirian nodded slightly, holding up a single finger as if to tell me to wait for his signal. My hand clasped the stone in my pocket, the surge of warmth it provided steeling my nerves.

The time had come. We would see what this Anima stone could do.

The group of us moved from the foyer then, heading towards the kitchen which would lead to the cellar entrance. As we reached a branch in the hallway, Cirian suddenly cried out, staggering to the side as he struggled against an invisible force.

“Get it off!” he shouted, hands grasping at the air in front of him.

This was the interruption I’d been waiting for. As the group erupted into chaos—soldiers running over to Cirian, only to be bowled over by him turning wildly and slamming into them, the Cardinal producing a blade the length of her arm from within her robe that she brandished with ease, Mother watching on with an amusement that only came from violence—I took the opportunity to slip down the opposite direction, knowing that it would take a while for anyone but Cirian to notice my absence.

Now that I was free of the others, I tore down the familiar halls, throwing open door after door in search of any staff.

Mother was unmoored. Her years of animosity toward the Unseen seeming to have concentrated into a miasma that now filled the hallways. I couldn’t let those who had done no wrong bear the brunt of her wrath. As I neared the conservatory towards the back of the chateau, a soldier shouted, his voice carrying down the corridor.

“On the ground! Now!”

Peering around the corner, I spotted the two soldiers, their weapons—one, a long, narrow blade, the other a short club—drawn against the huddled group of Unseen. They outnumbered the soldiers two-to-one, but it was apparent they were scared out of their wits, cowering against the wall of paned glass, their bodies flickering in and out of the ethereal as their magic spiked with fear.