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Chapter 17

Theo

Knights were meant to regard all the Holtzfalls equally, but as Modesty brandished her ring, Theo saw her as she’d been when they were children. The girl who used to speak to the knights like they were dogs. Who, once, when Alaric had refused her some petty thing, had gone crying to Mercy Holtzfall with scratches all over her arms, claiming that he had pushed her down. Alaric would have been beaten for it, but Nora had used her Holtzfall gift, finding the truth in a windowpane that had caught the reflection of Modesty scraping up her own arm. Modesty had hated them even more when her grandmother took Nora’s side.

As they had grown older Modesty had learned to hide that side of herself. But still Theo felt engulfed with dread at the thought of Modesty having the power to command them like Mercy did now.

The crowd in the garden shifted toward Modesty, like winds changing a storm, pushing Theo away from Nora. From the certainty that she would be their next Heiress.

All the certainties of Theo’s life were falling away. That he would fight side by side with his brother his whole life. That Nora would be the one to command them. That no knight would ever harm a Holtzfall.

You’re not here to kill me?

He wasn’t sure what had drawn him to protect Ottoline. The cameras had been engulfing her, and through the storm of flashbulbs he had been pulled toward her by something stronger than himself.

Theo had always followed his oath to the letter. But for the first time, he had felt the oath drawing him into action as if by some power greater than himself. Even now, through the press of the crowd, it was Ottoline he found himself looking for.

Movement caught Theo’s eye instead.

Amidst the milling crowd, a single figure moved with purpose. A flash of scarlet hair, cutting her way toward Modesty. Theo recognized her. The redheaded dancer from this morning. Instead of silver sequins, she was wearing a gray Holtzfall maid uniform. And then Theo saw something slip from her sleeve into her empty palm. The light from the charmed stars danced down the blade of a long knife.

It all came together at once. Instinct, along with a decade of training and, more powerful than both, a thousand years of an oath sewn into the fabric of his family’s bloodline. The same oath that had made him protect Ottoline and stand against his commander.

Protect them at all costs.

Theo shoved through the crowd toward Modesty as the redheaded girl did the same. Theo reached her first, shouldering his way between her and the crowd brusquely. An outraged cry emerged from Modesty’s lips as she stumbled. “Watch it, you dumb brute of a—”

Theo slammed his arm up just as the blade drove down. The knife bit angrily through his shirtsleeve, drawing blood. He felt the pain shoot up his arm, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and forced the knife away. Modesty’s outrage turned to a scream as she scrambled backward. More knights moved in, voices carrying over the crowd as they moved her to safety.

Theo pulled back, his focus on the girl. He was distantly aware of the commotion around him. Of screaming, jostling bodies, flashing cameras…Everything fell away as he stood between the assassin and Modesty Holtzfall.

The assassin, he realized with a distant sense of dread, who he had invited into the Holtzfall home under the guise of rescuing a damsel in distress.

Now whatever mask she’d worn this morning dropped away. He could see the wild fervor in her eyes, even as the bright flush rising in her pale skin screamed panic. She turned the knife over in her hand as she shifted from one foot to the other.

“You can’t want this ,” she said in a voice too low for anyone else to hear. Her words trembled, but there was no backing down in her face. “You can’t want to serve as a slave for the Holtzfalls for the rest of your life. We are trying to save you.”

Theo could feel blood dripping down his arm. “I don’t want to harm you,” he said. “Drop the knife and this ends here.”

The Holtzfalls had their stories of their ancestors. But so did the Rydders.

Hartwin Rydder had been born in a time when kings ruled Gamanix. When knights hunted monsters and saved damsels and fought battles. And his great acts of valor had won him the hand of Grete, the loveliest of the queen’s maids. One day, Grete was picking flowers for her wedding bouquet when a Fossegrim, an immortal that lived in the nearby waterfall, heard her singing. The Fossegrim was so taken with Grete’s voice that he desired her.

So he took her.

Immortals didn’t understand mortal things. The Fossegrim made Grete sing day and night without food or rest, and he was astounded when her voice failed. Finally, the Fossegrim left his waterfall to gather mortal food to restore his songbird. Little did he know that Hartwin had been watching from the bank of the river. And when the Fossegrim left, the great knight saw his chance to rescue his love. Together, Hartwin and Grete fled.

They didn’t return to the castle. They knew the king had no power against the will of an immortal. But no matter how far they fled, the Fossegrim followed. He was as tireless as the river. He flowed after them through the plains, mountains, and woods. Hartwin and Grete might have run as far as the waterless deserts of the far south if they hadn’t stumbled into the village of Walstad first.

There, the Fossegrim was halted by the Huldrekall’s promise. Just like the baying flesh-hungry monsters, he could not pass the trees. Hartwin and Grete threw themselves at the mercy of Honor Holtzfall. They had no worldly possessions to trade for the right to live on Honor’s land, so Hartwin offered the one thing he did have: his loyalty as a knight.

If Honor Holtzfall allowed them to stay in the safety of Walstad, Hartwin would pledge his sword in eternal service to Honor and to his descendants. They sealed the oath in blood and in magic. So long as there lived descendants of both Honor and of Hartwin, they would be bound together by this oath. The Rydders would serve the Holtzfalls.

“Drop the knife,” Theo urged.

The girl’s lip curled into something between a sneer and a snarl. She plunged the knife forward sloppily. Theo moved, letting the blade skirt past him, grazing his ribs just enough to draw another streak of blood. It brought her near enough for Theo’s hand to close over her arm and twist it hard. The knife fell onto the manicured lawn as Theo forced the girl to the ground, his knee pressing into her shoulder blade, hard.

The girl let out a small cry of pain, and then Theo heard her speak in a low hiss. “Your brother warned us you’d put up a fight.”

The mention of Alaric hit Theo harder than any blow the assassin could have delivered. “My brother is dead,” Theo said, voice low.

The girl didn’t reply, but Theo felt something press into his palm firmly. And when he glanced down he saw a small crumpled napkin. Their eyes met as Theo’s hand closed over it, his heart racing.

And then the flash of a camera went off, breaking the moment. Dozens of photographers were eating up the scene, sending his hand flying up to shield his face. Releasing the girl just long enough.

“Magic and money for all!” She reared up briefly under Theo’s knee with the Grims’ war cry, her hand coming to her mouth. And then she slumped on the grass.

Poison, Theo realized. The girl had taken poison.

For a rare suspended moment, the immense garden was silent as everyone took in what had happened.

Theo stood, leaving the girl sprawled on the grass, red hair splayed out around her, dead.

Holtzfall children and Rydder children alike learned the story of Hartwin and Grete. How the knights came to serve the Holtzfalls loyally for a thousand years. For the Holtzfall children, the story ended when Hartwin took his oath. But the Rydder children knew what came after. When Hartwin and Grete settled onto Honor’s land, the Fossegrim remained for years, watching them from the trees.

It didn’t matter how far Honor Holtzfall and his ax pushed the border, the Fossegrim simply moved back with it. He lingered in the waters around Walstad, always watching from between the trees. The children of Walstad made up rhymes about the man in the trees. Sometimes the Fossegrim played his harp to accompany them.

Grete bore Hartwin children, those children bore their own children. None of them ever ventured past the border of Walstad. Her hair turned from gold to silver. And when old age took Grete, only then did the Fossegrim vanish from the borders of Walstad. But the Rydders stayed, and their grandchildren remained bound by an oath.

Protect them at all costs. Even if the cost was the life of a girl fighting for what she believed in.

Theo remembered the note crumpled in his hand.

It was the napkin from the Ash Lounge. On one side was his handwriting, giving her instructions into the house. On the other side was spiky, jagged handwriting with another address:

If you want answers about your brother, come to 113 Flint Street.

And then the silence was broken by a sharp burst of laughter from Grace, raising a drink to her lips, even as Theo quickly dropped the napkin into his pocket.

“Well, don’t we know how to throw a party like nobody else.”