Page 42 of Till Death

I walked out to the sound of her falling the rest of the way to the floor.

The sandwich in my stomach churned as I sank into the darkness on the side of the house opposite the moon, seeking the comfort of my lonely shadows. Hours passed. Elowen returned to her stoop, her breathing normal, but I could see the subtle way she fidgeted. I wondered if she’d waited for him every night there was a show. If she’d worried, as I’d heard mothers did, every second until he was under the safety of this ramshackle roof. I wondered most of all if she knew he was a murderer. And how he came to have such power.

After some time, she sat on the first step, bathing in the moonlight. Watching stoically. And though I debated it, preferring the solitude, eventually I gave up and joined her, sitting vigilant as we both stared at that tree line. Waiting. Her for comfort and me for answers. It would have been the perfect time to search the house, had she not been there.

“When Orin was a boy, he would race up and down those trees, fighting imaginary villains,” she said, likely to fill the growing silence. “He swore to always protect me, and he’s never backed down on that promise.”

I said nothing, though I didn’t think she wanted me to, anyway.

“When he was a teen, barely a man at all, he made a deal with the devil and followed through on his boyish promise. Freeing me from the Maestro and giving his life instead. I’d spent so many years tied to that man. Freedom was the only thing I’d ever wished for my son, and he’d given it away.”

My head snapped to her. “He bargained his whole life?”

“Not quite all, but most. Before the show, before the theatrics of it all, Drexel was just a man. He’d have moments that made him a monster, but I think we all do. Things turned dark, and he began collecting people. Turning to crime to get what he wanted. Your father threatened to imprison him, and because that wasn’t a war Drexel wanted, he created his godsdamned show instead. Slowly seeping money away from this kingdom and your father’s.”

“And building his own.”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see a blue band around the wrist of Icharius Fern. Drexel has never been one for the politics of it all, but he’s loved every coin that has ever fallen into his hands. Every person, to a degree. He loves to flaunt his power and the things he collects. Sometimes I think he wants to conquer Requiem. But other times, I realize he just likes the chase. I don’t think he’s ever cared to be worth his death. He’s always wanted the spotlight, instead.”

I wanted to ask how she knew so much about him, but the answer was obvious. And likely one she wouldn’t openly share. She must have loved him. Any and all information was a tool, a weapon to be collected, though. So, I considered how I might broach the question.

We heard the ruckus before we ever saw them. Althea screamed for Elowen to clear off the table. Two small horses burst from the tree line, dragging a reluctant cart behind them. A parade of people ran for the house.

“Oh, gods,” she cried, leaping to her feet and dashing inside.

I moved to the far end of the porch, gripping the railing as the cart came to a halt, and the giant man lifted Orin’s limp body, carrying him inside. Paesha was next, then sobbing Althea and the child. I didn’t notice the little white dog with long brown ears until a cold nose pressed into my hand. Several more somber faces followed.

“Come on, Boo,” the old man said, slapping his thigh until the dog turned, darting into the home.

The second everyone crossed the threshold to the house, I flung myself over the railing and climbed until I stood on the balcony I’d jumped from on our wedding night. The window was still broken, the sheer curtains tumbling in the wind. I took a step before seeing a cello in the corner. Far more worn than the one he’d played so beautifully on that stage.

I crept inside Orin’s room, but without being able to turn on a lamp, there was hardly anything more to discern than what my memory held. Sliding a hand between the mattress and the bed frame, I sought Chaos but came out empty-handed. I found a blade beneath the pillow, but it wasn’t mine. There was nothing behind the mirror or any of the dusty art on the wall.

The creak of worn steps was my only warning before the knob turned. I dashed under the bed, confident if anyone had been paying close enough attention, they would have seen me. But Althea had come and gone within minutes.

Orin’s bedroom held no answers. And Chaos was still missing. With nowhere else to go, I climbed to the roof of the Syndicate home. Three chairs sat gathered in the corner of the flattened portion of the rooftop, surrounded by more black railings. Lying on my back, just above the open balcony, I watched the stars in the sky, wondering how my life had gotten to this point. As the mist grew thicker, the clouds covered the clear night, rain threatening to pour down. Voices trailed up from Orin’s bedroom.

“Careful,” Althea hissed.

“Back off, buttercup. He’s got to lay him down.” The sharp edge of Paesha’s tone was unmistakable.

“I still don’t understand why.” Althea’s voice was quieter than before.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Thea. He married the Death Maiden. He stole the king’s bride. Then refused to turn her over. We had a godsdamned plan, and he fucked it all up.”

“Paesha.” The old man’s soft voice was hardly audible. “Whatever your plan, it was reckless. And speaking ill of the Death Maiden as she lurks around this house is dangerous. Even for you, Huntress.”

Huntress?

“Well, I don’t really care if she hears me, Hollis. Do you hear that, Maiden? Come down from your fucking perch.”

I could almost picture those mismatched eyes glaring at me from the window.

But if Paesha was the famed Huntress… if she could use her magic to locate things and people… she could find the Life Maiden. Maybe she already had. Maybe she’d been the one to tell the Maestro about Orin. If I could crack this, convince him to help the people, then I’d finally contribute to this world. Something stirred within me, confirming this was my purpose. I needed to be here. Requiem needed balance.

The distraction of his injuries might have been a good time to slip inside and look around the house, but if I were caught on the first night, I’d never get back in, and, more than anything, I needed to tread carefully around Paesha. There was no way she hadn’t used her magic to seek out the Life Maiden. I desperately needed whatever information she had. Surely, if it were my husband, she would know.

“We can do this later.” The gruff voice of that large man felt weak compared to Paesha’s fierceness.