Chapter 3: The Darkness Creeps

"Papa doesn't like me."

Gavriel nearly dropped his quill and luckily didn't drip anything on his parchment. "Maker, kid, you scared me! How'd you get so good at sneaking up on people?" he asked as he turned to see his youngest sibling hovering in the doorway of the study. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was around; Theo was quiet and moved like a ghost, comfortable in shadows and corners. Gavriel smiled and waved his brother in.

Theo hesitated and looked around as if expecting someone to reprimand him, but Gavriel scooted over and patted the bench beside him. "Come on, we can do schoolwork together," he said, taking out fresh parchment and a smaller quill. "You can practice your letters so you can impress your tutor when he arrives."

Theo's face lit up and he joined his older brother at the desk. They both worked quietly for a few minutes. "Why do you think Father doesn't like you?" Gavriel asked at last.

"He doesn't look at me. He doesn't talk to me. I don't think he wants me." Theo stared at his parchment where his lopsided and scratchy letters were taking form. He frowned, but would not look at Gavriel.

"That's silly, kid," Gavriel said, setting down his quill. "Father… he's busy. He's the Bann of all of Ostwick; it's a big job and he has to worry about a lot of things. And then he has six kids on top of it all," he added, gently nudging Theo's shoulder.

The boy didn't smile. "Why do kids get sent to the Chantry?"

Gavriel shrugged. "To serve the Maker? I dunno."

"Thisbe says… I mean, I heard somewhere that's where kids go when their parents don't want them anymore." He stared at the floor and swung his feet back and forth. He gave a worried sidelong glance at Gavriel. "Really, I didn't hear it from Thisbe."

"Thisbe says a lot of things that are tripe," Gavriel said, shaking his head in disgust. "If kids are sent to the Chantry it's because they can serve the Maker." He pulled his little brother into a rough hug and ruffled his hair. Theo giggled and pushed away. "You know? I think Thisbe is just jealous."

Theo shrugged. "Papa knows she's there… he doesn't pretend she's not. Why would she be jealous?"

"Because before you came along? She was the baby in the family," Gavriel said with an exaggerated look around, pretending he was afraid of eavesdroppers. "She got all the attention."

"But Papa—"

"Attention from Mum," Gavriel said quickly. "Thisbe's a little princess who doesn't want to grow up," he said with a grin that Theo returned after a moment. "Here. Try your letters again," he said, rather than belabor the point with Theo. He helped adjust his brother's little hand on the quill and showed him how to make the trickier letters, and eventually they went to working in silence.

Theo set down his quill after a bit. "Do you think Papa wants to see what I can do?" he asked Gavriel.

Gavriel looked at the letters, shaky and scratchy, but there was definitely effort poured into it. He didn't understand what was behind their father's cool attitude toward the youngest child anymore than Theo did. "I think he might," he said at last. "You're going to have a good head start when your tutor finally shows up," he added. Theo only smiled and took the paper in his hand before dashing out of the room.

The Trevelyan manor house at Ostwick was far from ancient, but it still had dark corridors and back passages unknown to anyone but the servants, and even then the current staff rarely used them. They were part of the household, accepted and treated well. And sometimes, it seemed they were even more visible than the youngest Trevelyan son.

He didn't have a tutor yet; and his mother spent her mornings doing needlework with his sisters. Matty and Gave had lessons and work to do before they were allowed out to the practice yards to spar or drill, or to the stables to ride. Bann Trevelyan did whatever Banns did during the day. It was probably important.

As a result Theo had little supervision and had started to learn the secrets of his home. The back corridors were dark, but he wasn't afraid of the dark. His family believed in the Maker, and the Maker was all about light. He slipped through the dim passageways, quiet as he could be. It was a game he played with himself: if he couldn't hear his footsteps, no one else could, either.

He rolled up his paper so it would not flutter and make noise, and made his way from the studies past the kitchens. He hurried by uncomfortably. They were always loud and bright and hot, even though the smells were often wonderful. He'd found a passage from the kitchens to his father's office last week. The discovery was the highlight of his young life to this point, and whenever he could he would slip into the passages and sit outside the secret door into the office.

It was usually quiet, and Theo would never have dreamed of actually going in. Somehow, just sitting there and knowing his father was on the other side of the wall was comforting enough.

He sat to the side of the actual door and unrolled his paper. He was getting better with his letters. Maybe if he pleased his tutor Papa would be proud of him. Maybe he should slip his paper under the door and leave it for Papa to find.

"…don't want Theo to be a templar." He looked up. He didn't usually hear Mum in there. "I won't have him hooked on lyrium. I don't care if Cadan and Declan seem fine, they're templars and they're on lyrium."

"Well, the options are fairly limited otherwise." Papa's voice. "We may get no say. They may decide they need him for the order."

"You can ask them not to!"

"My own father didn't have the sway to keep my brothers out of the templars!" Papa was angry. Theo bit on his knuckles to keep quiet, even though he was already silent, quieter than even the bugs and mice that scurried through the dark places of the manor. "The sooner we begin educating him the better his chances at becoming a brother. We'll do what we can and pray that it's enough."

Theo got to his feet and ran back the way he'd come. Somewhere along the way he dropped his paper, but he didn't care.

The next day was the weekly Chantry service. For the first time anyone in the house could recall Theo stubbornly refused to go, and had to be dragged screaming from his room.

"I know why you don't like going to Chantry."

He looked up from where he was playing in the hay pile behind the stables. His tutor was supposed to be here today. No one would think to look for him out here, and yet here Thisbe was, delicately holding her skirt so as not to trail it in the dirt. Her nose was wrinkled at the scent of the horses.

"Go away, Thisbe." Theo dug himself deeper into the hay. It smelled sweet, like a little bit of leftover summer. Autumn had set in, his nameday had come and gone, and all he wanted was not to be found. Thisbe reached into the hay and grabbed his elbow. "Let go!" He tried to wrest his arm out of her grip, but she tugged and dragged him out of the hay. He tumbled into the dirt with pieces of straw clinging to him.

Thisbe jumped back to avoid being knocked into the dust herself. She wore a smug smile. "I'm going to tell Father where you are," she said, staring down at him. "And he's going to send you to the Chantry when he finds out!" She stuck her tongue out and he stared at her for one terrifying moment before she took off at a run, laughter echoing behind her.

Theo scrambled to his feet and ran after her. Her legs were longer, but she was wearing a dress and even with hiking up the skirt it slowed her down. "They won't send me away!" he yelled, and she laughed even harder before ducking into a back door. He didn't think; he just followed her. It was dim, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust enough to see. He blinked and realized he was alone. "Thisbe?" he asked, suddenly nervous.

He crept through the dank basement corridors. He hadn't explored down here before, and normally he wouldn't have been afraid, but Thisbe's threats of telling on him for hiding, for playing…and the thought of being sent away… those scared him more than any darkness.

"There are spiders in the kids' dorms in the Chantry," she said from behind him, and he jumped.

"I don't care about stupid spiders," he told her.

"Prove it," she said. In the dim light cast by the few narrow oblong windows she hardly looked like his sister; more like some cruel spirit with a teasing smile. She moved aside and he saw she was standing in front of an open door. A set of rickety wooden steps led down into total darkness.

"No," he said.

"Scaredy cat."

"I'm going to tell Mum," he said, his last defense. He turned away from her, but she grabbed him by the collar and before he knew it, she'd flung him toward the doorway. He saw the darkness grow, a giant mouth ready to eat him whole. He grabbed for a railing to keep from pitching headlong down the stairs and when he caught himself and turned to scramble back up, he saw the door close.

A lock clicked. Thisbe laughed. Her laughter faded and he realized she was running away, leaving him alone.

Theo sat at the bottom of the stairs—the staircase was only a few steps down—and looked around at the blackness. Suddenly he realized it wasn't darkness that was scary; it was when there was a little bit of light. Enough to cast shadows and change the familiar to something different, something he didn't understand.

He began to cry.

Thisbe would tell Mum and Papa on him and they'd send him away. They didn't want him anyway, right? He began to hiccup and his eyes burned and he felt like a little baby but that's all he was anyway, right?

And then he heard the clicking.

He held his breath and looked around. Click. Hiss. Something brushed his hand and he scrambled to his feet and stumbled away. He ran into a wall and turned his back to it. Clickety-click.

I don't care about stupid spiders, he'd said. Prove it, Thisbe had said before showing him the doorway.

He tried to find his way back to the stairs. If he yelled loud enough maybe they'd hear him. He moved slowly, even as his heart raced. His foot caught on something—rock? Wood? He fell forward and his teeth sank into his lip. And then there was a burning pain in his foot that made him start screaming.

Another hairy something brushed over his arm and he screamed louder. The Chantry had spiders. And this was his punishment for being afraid of the Chantry. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd be sent there now; Thisbe was telling on him right this moment. Or… she wasn't. He'd be left down here to be wrapped up by the spiders. They'd suck him dry the way they did flies. There'd be nothing left but a dried up shell in the darkness.

Even when his parents found him a short time later and scolded him for hiding and fussed over the spider bite in his swollen foot he couldn't bring himself to believe that Thisbe had been wrong, or that he hadn't deserved this. The Maker may have been all about the light, but the darkness began to creep into his mind as he began to understand what it meant to be the third son.