Page 39 of Death of the Glass Angel (Apotheosis #1)

Des

I once longed for death. For an end. Alfaris appeared and everything changed. Here was a kid the world had thrown away. Who would protect him, if not me? I gave my life to shield those I thought lost. Those I refused to lose again.

-Excerpt from Professor Aevus’ private journal

An entourage of guards guided Des back to her suite, occasionally correcting her path when she veered off the road, distracted.

Janus could, for the first time, remember what Des said and did. Evoking yet eluded Des’ grasp, though. She could but piece together vague recollections of the dinnertime conversation.

Avalon seemed undeserving of mistrust. Her words had been straightforward, her questions in the hall polite and inquisitive. Dinu had chuckled to himself, staring affectionately at the blond woman’s back. And though he appeared more intelligent than he let on, he did not display an aura of deceit.

Relieved to be home, Des warmed her hands by the fire, watching Gemellus gather ‘essential items’, as he called them.

“I hope you weren’t too attached to Kalid,” Gem said. “I’ll be taking over his duties.”

Chuckling, Des glanced at her guard. He shook his head. “A rest from wrangling the princess? I’d never wish for such.”

The door flung open, and Talon entered. “You’re back.” He said, raking back his hair. “How’d it go?”

“Someone interrupted the party,” Des nodded toward Gem.

Noticing the court mage, Talon hastily bowed. “You must be Lord Gemellus. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Unrolling a scroll, Gemellus rolled it out across the table. “You must be the ‘merchant.’ Give me a hand.”

Smiling, Des stared into the fire. The sight of flames never bothered her, yet both Janus and Talon flinched from it.

What was the story behind Talon’s scars, she wondered. Would he answer if she asked?

“Alright. Come here.” Gem said, stabbing a dagger into the scroll.

Des leaned on the back of the couch. “Does that represent our assassins?”

“Do you like it?”

“I think you just wanted to be dramatic.”

The corner of Gem’s mouth turned up. “Nobody ever pulled off a heist without something being left behind. So let’s find it.”

Talon sat opposite Des, favoring his injured arm. Dipping a quill into ink, he drew two lines from the dagger, pointing to the names Janus and Felsin.

The names Gemellus and Alfaris appeared, with a line drawn between them, as well. Des looked up at her mentor. “Tell me about Alfaris. The fortune teller.”

“He would really hate being called that,” Gemellus said.

“Am I supposed to believe he has some kind of unheard magic?”

“He does,” Gemellus confirmed. “It’s nearly impossible to wield. Even with years of training, few could grasp the basics.”

“Can you?” Des tilted her head.

Gemellus hesitated before answering. “No. I can’t.”

“Do you have to be born with it?”

“No. In theory, anyone could use it.” Gemellus turned a hand over. “But the sacrifice required is so antithetical to human nature, even training cannot grant you its gift.”

“So,” Talon twirled the quill, “Only Alfaris and Felsin can wield it.”

“As far as I’m aware.”

Talon’s hand jerked. “Heras knows Alfaris. He said it himself. What if he showed her the same thing he showed Janus? Showed her the future.”

Des bolted off the couch. He was right. Why hadn’t she seen it earlier?

“A fair assumption.” Gemellus agreed. “That would explain why nobody can find the assassin’s motive; whatever you and Felsin do to earn death is written in fate and has yet to pass.”

“She wants to prevent something.” Des breathed. “But what?”

“You tell me.” Talon teased, smirking at her. “You’re the one who does it.”

“Give me that.” Des sat beside him and stole the quill. She added another name to the chart: Eros.

“Add the glassy-eyed nightmares.” Talon leaned toward her.

Gemellus paced around the table. “Why would someone be asking about a years-dead child?”

“Heras thought he was murdered,” Des muttered, adding a few more notes to their evidence board. “It has something to do with why I have to die.” Biting her lip, she added a final name: Brand.

“Felsin shared with me his brother’s strange attitude.” Gemellus paused behind the couch, looming over Des. “But it seems none of us can decide if he despises you, or is trying to provoke you.”

“Maybe,” Talon suggested, “He hates her for something she does later.”

Des leaned back, recalling Brand’s words. ‘Least of all what’s coming for them.’ ‘Do you truly not know?’

“Whether his ire is justified or not,” Gemellus continued pacing, “He’d best watch his tongue around you from here on out.”

“Are you going to kill him, or am I?” Talon snatched the quill back and added anmarite to the list. “Have you seen this?” He grabbed the diagram from the compound and offered it to Gemellus.

Even hidden behind a blindfold, Gemellus’ glare could have melted ice. Talon immediately rescinded his offer.

“Want me to describe it to you?” He tried again.

“Yes.” Gemellus drawled.

“Looks like armor,” Des said. “A full suit covers every inch of their skin.”

“Made from anmarite?” Gemellus laughed. “I can’t fault their ambition, but such a feat seems. . . unlikely.”

“But someone has forged anmarite.” Leaping up, Des ran to her room and fished through her bag, finding the glass angel. Cradling it carefully, she presented the winged pendant to Gemellus.

“Look at this.” She tapped the silver wings. “Isn’t this anmarite?”

“Des,” Gemellus said quietly.

Oh. Normally, she was better about remembering he was blind. Talon snickered.

“Take it then.” She offered it to him. “Touch it, or whatever you do.”

“Touch it? Do you think I rub my hands over the palace walls to get around?”

“I know you can see.” Des matched his frown. “You catch me every time. You always know who’s coming and who’s left. Somehow.” She thrust the ornament toward him again.

Gemellus backed away. “What exactly are you giving me?”

“The pendant.” She thrust it toward him.

Gemellus shrank from it as though Des had offered him poison. “I’m quite all right. It gives off a significant magical aura, whatever it is.”

Magical aura? Could evokers sense something like that?

“I don’t think evokers can sense ‘magical auras.’” Talon added, one eyebrow raised.

“What would a cefra know about it?” Gemellus retorted. “When you lose one of your senses, Des, the others grow more acute.” Gemellus shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have no idea what that is. This was in the ruins?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds important. Hold onto it.” He suggested.

Des lowered her extended hand. He was not acting himself.

“Okay,” Talon said sarcastically. “Should I add ‘necklace’ to our little board, then?”

“Glass Angel.” Des corrected.

“Right.” Talon stared at Gemellus. “And shall I make a note that you fear it?”

Gemellus ignored Talon’s accusation. “Look over what we have, Des. Find a connection.”

Lowering herself onto the couch, Des’s gaze swept over the list of names and places. A year ago, Des would have laughed at the words she added to the scroll.

Death. The Tower. Illusion. And The Priestess.

“The fortune,” Des said. “Alfaris pulled it before Eros died. And again, now. Whatever follows, be it destruction or salvation—Felsin and I are to blame.”

“We have a suspect.” Talon underlined Heras’ name. “She knows what’s to come. Learn what she wants, and everything will fall into place.”

“Find our missing evoker,” Gem said, “Find our missing memories. And the truth unveils itself.”

“Where should we start looking?” Des asked.

“We aren’t starting anything,” Gemellus said pointedly. “You’re to remain here, under my guard. Princess.”

* * *

Talon sat on the edge of Des’s window, stuffing various tools into hiding spots. Lockpicks here and there, a knife in his boot, another under his sleeve.

Leaning on the foot of her bed, Des folded her arms. “Who sent you to watch me?”

“I wasn’t watching you specifically.” Talon crossed one leg over the other. “I needed a way into the ball, and Janus was easy to manipulate.”

Des chuckled, despite herself. “At least you’re honest.” She eyed his wound. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“Des.” Talon smiled warmly. “Princesses aren’t supposed to waltz into danger once, let alone thrice.”

“Am I supposed to let you waltz without me?”

Talon regarded her quietly. “Do you know how they pick songbird recruits?”

“I assume they. . .” Des trailed off. She didn’t know and had never given it a thought.

“They pick gutter trash.” Talon’s face sharpened. “I was a half-dead orphan. Valkyrie doesn’t even remember her childhood. We don’t exist.”

“But-”

“So when we get caught, or when we go missing, they can’t draw connections to anyone, or any place. And the world will keep turning because nobody cares that we’re gone.”

Des wanted to respond, but the words welling up in her throat were foolish. ‘I’d care.’

Talon rose, and Des darted between him and the door. “Can’t you at least rest for a day? Do you have any idea how much blood you lost?”

“Do my eyes deceive me, or do you have a soft spot under that scaly hide?”

“I’m not a dragon.”

“You’re just named for one.” Talon grinned. “I did say that was adorable, right? Because it is.”

“You’re insufferable.” Des frowned. Her eyebrows drew together as she looked into his brilliant, purple eyes. “No, you’re not. I’ve never spoken to the real you, have I? That’s why you have a shadow, too. Up in the stars.”

“Don’t tell Felsin, but I still don’t buy it.”

“Don’t avoid the question.”

“I need to be going.” He stepped around her. “And you need to rest.”

Des placed a hand on his chest, a gentle touch, but it stopped him. “Only two people knew my name before I met you. Secrets for secrets. I’m owed.”

The corner of Talon’s mouth curled up. “And what would you have of me?”

Des traced the pattern of his collarbone several times over before she came up with an answer. “I don’t know.”

Softly laughing, Talon took her hand in his and raised it to his face. He gently kissed the curl of her fingers. “Goodnight, my lady.”

Defeated, Des let him go. He’d won another bout. That had been unfairly smooth.

Distracted, Des stared at the frosted glass of the window before realizing someone stood behind her. Gemellus leaned in the doorway, ankles crossed.

“What?” She snapped, a bit harsher than intended.

“Oh, nothing,” Gem smirked. “You’re adorable, is all.”

“Don’t tease me.” She pulled the curtains close.

“Oh, but it’s so much fun.” He stood straight. “I should have known you’d fall for a spy.”

“I’m not the kind of woman who falls.”

“Then why are you flushed from your collarbone to your nose?”

Des sighed. She had never snuck anything past Gemellus’ notice. “Talon is. . .”

“Charming, I’ll give him that.” Gemellus chuckled. “I’ll be here if you need me. And I’ll know if you sneak out the window.”

Des’s hands tightened on the curtains.

“So don’t, at least, not without my permission.” He nodded and turned away, drawing the door close behind him.

“Gem.” Des blurted out.

The door creaked back open. “Yes?”

“Do you think Talon will be okay?”

“I think that songbird would tear himself apart and think the remnants better left scattered.”

Des’ mouth warbled, staring at her mentor.

Gem exhaled. “Don’t be gone long. And stay with him.”

The door shut and locked behind him.

Beaming, Des pulled the curtains back open and leaned on the sill, peering into the night. A light snow fell over stone roads, painting them gray with white. An urge appeared in the sight of the night-cast streets, a desire to slip out and be as one with the shadows.

Stepping back, Des fished through her bag until she grasped the soft, aged stuffed dragon. Setting ‘Des’ down on the nightstand, she pried the window open.

One purpose directed Des’s life: to guard others. First Eros, then Janus. Why not also the songbird who thought nobody would care if he disappeared?

An unmistakable thrill breathed through the window, mixed with the night’s chill. How blessed a life Talon led for this to be his calling.