Page 42 of Death of the Glass Angel (Apotheosis #1)

Talon

Entia fooled us all. She seemed a an idealist, a sweet young woman who believed the world a kinder place than it truly was. She saw everything as her garden—something to nurture and grow. Then the world tore her truth to shreds.

-Excerpt from Alfaris’ private journal

Gemellus stepped into the carriage and made a noise of disgust as he slammed the door closed and took the seat opposite Des.

Talon studied him closely, his graceful movements and permanent frown. Beyond deciding the man had a great deal of confidence and experience, Talon couldn’t read him.

“I don’t get paid enough.” Gemellus smoothed down his vest. “To ride out here and be forced into a carriage again.”

“You aren’t excited to see a spirit trial?” Des teased.

“Oh, I’m just thrilled.”

Knitting her fingers on her lap, Des leaned forward, a devilish smile on her lips. Talon turned to say something but quickly fell silent. Her tights hugged her hips snugly, and the deep neckline of her kurta revealed a distracting amount of her skin.

“So, Gem.” Des began. “I don’t feel like you and I have talked in a while. Not that you ever talk about yourself.”

“Why would I?” Gemellus asked, flipping open a pocket watch and closing it again. Why did he have that if he could not see?

“You must have many stories to tell. About how you met Alfaris, for one.”

“It’s not all that interesting.” Gemellus continued fussing with the watch. Click, click.

“You’re old, aren’t you? You once told me you were twenty-five, but that was obviously a lie.”

“I’m wounded.” Gemellus feigned offense. “Are you saying I look old?”

“You must have a family.” Des pressed. “Do you write to them?”

“My only family is a brother who died long ago.”

Talon didn’t detect any signs of a lie on the man’s face or in his mannerisms. But for some reason, Des’s line of questioning was making him uncomfortable.

“A brother? You’ve never mentioned him.”

Gemellus sighed strenuously as though he were asked this question at every social function and had grown tired of answering. “I’d rather not talk about myself when a songbird is sizing me up like his next meal.”

Talon moved to speak, but Des interrupted.

“Forgive him,” she said softly. “He gets nervous around me.”

Talon’s mouth twitched. He wanted nothing more than to throw Des from the mountainside.

“Shall we move on to a productive topic?” Gemellus crossed his legs. “Was your little outing fruitful?”

“Yes,” Des admitted, glancing at Talon. “Heras is a controversial leader. Everyone seems to either hate her or love her.”

“She wants two things,” Talon said. “To reduce Altanbern’s dependence on the alliance, and to dissolve the old clan system.”

“I don’t disagree.” Gemellus shrugged. “The clan system is ridiculous. Do you know how long it takes to make a new law?”

“Yes, but the spirits commanded it to be this way.” Des rolled her eyes.

“Careful,” Talon warned. “Felsin will take offense.”

Gemellus played with a ringlet of his hair. “No matter how ridiculous you might find it, never disregard another’s beliefs. The truths of today are often built on lies upheld as fact. Secrets hide in the ways of old, long forgotten.”

Des dipped her head, taking his words to heart. Talon wrinkled his nose, deciding if a hidden message lay in the words.

The carriage halted. A few voices murmured outside, and a knock came at their door before it swung open.

Felsin stepped inside, his red scarf catching in the door the first time he slammed it.

He cursed under his breath and tugged the fabric free before sitting beside Des, smooshing her between him and Talon.

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Mind if I ride with you?” Felsin asked chipperly.

“No.”

“Good.” He set Sors on the bench beside him and wrapped his arms around himself.

Gemellus waved a hand over the empty bench beside him. “I don’t bite. Usually.”

“Alfaris said to be wary of you,” Felsin said guardedly.

A wicked smile crossed Gemellus’ lips. “Good advice.”

Talon glowered at the fortune teller. “Any particular reason you’ve decided to join us?”

“Any particular reason you two are being icy?” Felsin turned his head away. “I needed to get away from my family. We’ve been arguing all morning.”

“What about?” Des asked.

Felsin sighed heavily. “About the evoker. There’s a single memory of him in the maevruthan, nothing more. Mother insists they barely knew one another.”

“Unless the other memories of him were removed,” Des murmured.

“But that’s. . .

“Impossible.” Talon agreed. “I don’t think it’s ever been done—stealing memories from a maevruthan.”

“It hasn’t,” Gemellus confirmed.

“And your brother?” Des pressed.

“Brand’s been quiet.” Felsin’s lids shadowed his eyes. “Just watching.”

Sors knitted his claws through the leather seats, stretching his back. He paced across the back of their seats, rubbing fur through Talon’s hair.

Felsin watched the cat fondly. “Des. Do you have the diagram from the ruins?”

“No. Why would I carry that around with me?”

Gemellus flicked a wrist, evoking a perfect replica of the diagram. “This?”

“Yes.” Felsin grabbed it and flicked a finger on it. “I realized something. Let me see your arm.”

Reluctant, Talon hesitated before offering Felsin his arm. The other cefra took his hand gently, pushing up his coat sleeve to examine the wound wrapped behind gauze.

Des leaned forward. “Ah. The armor in the schematics covers every inch of skin.”

“That’s ludicrous.” Talon yanked his arm back. “Are you suggesting they were going to pour molten metal—unshapable metal, mind you—over my arm?”

“Yes,” Felsin said. “That’s my hunch.”

Des grimaced. “How would that even work? Could you graft metal onto a person’s being?”

“Not steel, no. But maybe anmarite would work.” Felsin shook his head. “Maybe they’d seen the mirage evoker and wanted to replicate it.”

“Felsin,” Talon said, distractedly gazing at his arm. “Didn’t you grab some anmarite before we fled?”

“I did.”

“No,” Des said sharply. “We aren’t doing that.”

“Why not? It’s that or wear a hole in my arm for the rest of my life.” Talon carefully covered his arm with his coat again.

Gemellus drummed his fingers on his knee. “Didn’t you call the glassy-eyed nightmare an evoker? Yet now it’s a stormborn who replaced his skin with anmarite?”

“Maybe it’s a half-breed,” Felsin suggested. “Half-evoker, half-stormborn.” He glanced at Talon curiously.

Talon frowned. “Only nobles can evoke. If I’m a prince, I’ve been sorely cheated.”

“I’d say. You don’t even look noble.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Felsin smiled and looked away. “Well, we have a long road yet. Couldn’t we talk about something more pleasant?”

“Oh, I know,” Gemellus said smugly. “You’re a fortune teller, aren’t you? Give us a show.”

“They don’t always come at will. And they haven’t been pleasant, recently.”

“A game of cards, then?” Talon suggested. “I bet I could rob everyone here with only a half-decent hand.”

Chuckling, Felsin pulled out his deck and shuffled. “You’re on.”

* * *

Talon leaned against the mountainside, watching the sunrise. Their camp nestled between two steep ridges, with only one path forward and back.

Dinu had been right—this was the perfect spot for an ambush.

“How’s everything on your end?” Valkyrie appeared from the shadows, running a comb through her hair.

“Still,” Talon said. “Heras has been calm and quiet.”

“Good.” Her face twitched, betraying a hint of concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with all this.” She gestured to the camp. “It’s that court mage.”

“Gemellus?”

“Yes. I. . .” Valkyrie trailed off, scarlet eyes bright under the rising sun. “I recognize him. From before.”

Talon started. “I thought you couldn’t remember anything before Dove found you.”

“Not quite.” She shook her head. “I remembered a man. Blonde. Blindfolded. It’s him.”

“You should talk to him, then.”

“Maybe.” Valkyrie smiled. “It’s not important, right now.” She stared wistfully at Gemellus’ tent before lightly punching his arm. “I won our bet. Pay up.”

“Ugh.” Talon grabbed his purse and counted out a few coins. “I can’t believe you were right.”

Valkyrie snatched the gold triumphantly. “I’ll let you get back to your reprieve.”

“Wait. Did Janus tell you about her fortune?”

Valkyrie spun around. “I thought I said-”

“I know you don’t believe it. Did she tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She saw you. In Alfaris’ vision.” Talon closed his purse and returned it to his belt. “Standing beneath an antlered dragon. Does that mean anything to you?”

Normally, Valkyrie concealed her emotions expertly. Yet at his words, her eyes flew wide with palpable surprise and recognition.

“It does.” She admitted, glancing away. “I recall two things before meeting Dove: a blonde-haired man, and a great dragon with antlers.”

“But dragons aren’t-”

“Real.” Valkyrie finished his sentence. “I know. But that’s what I recall.” Turning around, she stalked away.

Talon leaned on the cliff, watching her go. She was right. Her woes weren’t important right now.

“Getting in some alone time?” Felsin called from behind.

Stiffening, Talon watched the bleary-eyed man approach him, who clumsily pulled his coat on before fastening his bright red scarf around his neck. Running a hand through his hair, Felsin leaned beside Talon, blinking into the glaring rays of the rising sun.

“I was,” Talon said shortly, tucking his hands into his coat pockets as the morning chill nipped at his fingers. “You need to change your attire if you want to be a fortune teller.”

Felsin settled against the cold rock. “Would you believe Janus said the same thing?”

“She’s right.”

Chatter sounded across the mountain pass. Murmurs no one but Talon could hear. Indistinguishable today. Mere noise.