Melmond Manor, Twenty-four Years Ago
Redden sat on the bed, alone in his room. The connecting door to Cid's room stood open, as it often had before. The brothers had had no secrets. They had more than once stayed up all night talking, half-yelling conversations through that open doorway as they both lay in their own beds. He could almost forget that other room was empty now, could call out, "What do you think I should do?"
But he knew no one would answer.
He stared down at the paper again, running his thumb over the raised seal, the Cornelian crest emblazoned on the bottom, next to the crown prince's signature: an official writ offering him the position of third council lord. "In remembrance of your service to the crown..." it said. He'd saved the prince's life. Now Cascius wanted to make Redden his most trusted adviser.
The door to the hall opened with a creak, drawing Redden's eyes from the page. Lord Westen regarded Redden stoically, then came into the room and sat on the bed beside him. He said nothing, only reached out and patted Redden's shoulder, waiting.
"He barely knows me," Redden said.
"He knows you well enough," Westen said. "From what he told me of the battle, I'd say he knows everything about you that matters."
Redden sighed. He looked at the connecting door again. Cid's room was dark, the curtains drawn, no candles lit. That wasn't unusual; Cid had never been one to loiter about indoors when the weather permitted. He would have been out today - in the training yard, perhaps, or on a walk with Jayne, or...
Or he would have been right here, where Lord Westen sat now. He would have loudly tormented Redden as he tried to study, talking about some scheme, some adventure, something they could have been doing besides wasting away in these musty rooms. Redden would have yelled at him to keep quiet, would have tried to force him bodily out the door so that he could have one blessed hour of concentration.
It was quiet now. It would be quiet for the rest of his days. I should have gone with him, Redden thought. Every single time. He looked down at the paper he held. "I would have to leave," he said.
"Yes," said Westen.
Redden shook his head. "I can't accept. The West Hills-"
"Could easily pass to someone else," Westen said, shrugging.
"I have a responsibility," Redden said.
"A responsibility you've never wanted. What do you want, Redden?"
Redden looked up, locking eyes with Lord Westen, but when he tried to answer, he couldn't. "I want... I... I don't know. I've never thought about it."
"All your life, you've been letting people tell you what you should want. Son of Titan, Lord of the West Hills... They had it all planned out for you, and you just went along with it. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I guess."
Westen nodded. His hand, still on Redden's shoulder, gave a reassuring squeeze. "Do you know what I think you should want? What I want for you?"
Redden shook his head.
"Happiness," said Westen. "A life of your own making. A life you've built. If you were my son..." Westen shrugged. "Well..."
Redden waited, but Westen said nothing else. He looked down at the paper again, reading it, rereading it. What do I want? he thought. If I'm not a son of Titan - that at least was something he had already considered in great detail - and if I'm not Lord of the West Hills... if I'm just... me... Just Redden... What did that even look like? He tried to picture it, tried to picture that life. One thing was for sure: he couldn't picture it happening here. "It... the idea of leaving... it doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. This is my home, but it- It's just..." He shook his head.
Westen nodded. "This was your home together. Without him, it's just a place."
Redden nodded. He felt tears on his face, started to wipe them away, but the paper rustled in his hand. He set it aside, then wiped his eyes. "What about you? And... and Jayne?"
Westen sighed. "I had hoped she could marry for love. A Lady Heir almost never gets that chance. Your brother... it would have worked, you know. A son of Titan as Lord of Melmond. The people would have accepted that. And they would have been happy together, I'm sure. But now..." Westen stood, went to the window and looked out. He didn't look at Redden, sounding almost guilty as he went on. "Now, I have to think about what's best for Melmond. Prince Cascius has expressed interest in pursuing Jayne's hand."
"Cascius?" Redden said. "Why?"
"I know you view her as a sister, so you might not see it, but she does have some endearing qualities," Westen said, chuckling slightly. He leaned on the window sill, resting his head against the glass. "She's beautiful, she's strong - the prince admires her strength above all, he emphasized that."
"No! I mean, why- Why him? Cornelia is-"
"Cornelia is Melmond's only hope," Westen said. "I've tried, Redden. I've tried to fix this state, to root out the corruption in the Lords' Council, to erase our debts to the Stone Coast, but this past year, the Rot, the men we've lost... We'll never recover. Melmond is dying. We can stumble along for another generation or two, but we lack the resources to sustain ourselves." He turned to face Redden again. "If Jayne marries the prince of Cornelia, her son would be both the king of Cornelia and the rightful Lord of Melmond. The law is quite clear on that point."
Redden sat up straighter. "You mean to let Cornelia claim us?"
"I mean to let them save us. I've been thinking about it for some time now, since Cid..." Westen shook his head. "I asked Cascius to give us a year, time for Jayne to grieve in peace. He agreed - which certainly heightened my opinion of the man - but barring any opposition on his father's part, he'll finalize the arrangements as soon as he returns to Cornelia. You should go, Redden. Go with them. I know there's nothing left for you here, son." He shook his head once more, then turned, striding to the door. As he left, Redden heard him mutter, "There's damn near nothing left for me."
Near Melmond Manor, Present Day
They were all three of them grumbling by the time they cleared the Hornwood. The march from the West Hills had taken far longer than either Kane or Gabriel had anticipated. Despite his enthusiasm to join them, Sarda wasn't used to travel, and as a mage he'd struggled crossing the Rot. He'd fallen more than once, and both Kane and Gabriel had fallen helping him along so that all three of them were muck-stained from head to toe.
"I knew we should have stopped for the night with mother," Gabriel said.
"It was the middle of the day!" Kane said, defending himself again.
"You knew the Rot lay between there and here!" Gabriel insisted. "I said we should have stopped! But, no, the 'Warrior of Light' is too important to take sensible advice!"
Kane growled a foul word. "If you bring that up one more time-"
"You'll what? What can you do to me that's worse than this?"
"I said I was sorry! Sarda said we'd make it before dark!"
"Oh, so you'll take the crazy man's advice but not mine?"
Beside Kane, Sarda raised his hands, palms out. "Leave the crazy man out of it. If you'd told me about the Rot, I'd have gone home."
"How could you not know about the Rot?" Gabriel asked.
Sarda shrugged. "Look, I've already explained it to you. I wasn't looking at today."
"But the Rot's been here for months!"
"Can you both please shut up?" Kane said. He walked between the two of them, carrying a torch they'd made in the midst of the Hornwood. They were close to Leiden's estates now, but the sun had set when they still had a ways to go. If Sarda hadn't had that flint and steel in his pockets, they'd have had a hard time of it. A harder time, Kane corrected, looking up at the moonless black sky.
"I am sorry," Sarda said. "I saw us reaching the house, I truly did. It was far too colorful to have been dark. I must have misunderstood." His shoulders slumped.
The older man seemed normal enough now. Hours of focusing on his steps, forcing one foot in front of the other, had apparently called his mind back to the present. He had tried to explain it to them, the way he saw time through the aether, seeing past, present, and future all at once. "There are more yesterdays and tomorrows than there are todays," he'd told them. Like trying to find a single, specific leaf on a tree, Kane imagined.
Kane sighed. "I'm as much to blame as you are. We're nearly there, anyway. Aren't we, Gabriel?"
"Yes," Gabriel said. "It should be just..." He trailed off, peering ahead into the night. "I thought it was just the torch playing tricks with my eyes..."
"What?" Kane said. Looking up the road, he saw what might have been a glow. "Lights?"
Sarda smiled. "Colorful lights."
Lena sat beside Orin as he lay in the bed. Her hands rested lightly on his chest as she viewed him through her soul sight. "There's nothing wrong with you," she said with a relieved sigh. "Aside from the lingering weakness, you're in fine health. For a man of your age, I mean."
"I have told you I am well," the old monk said, chuckling. He reached up with a shaky hand to tug one of her curls, making it bounce. "You need not waste your time attending me, Miss Lena, not when you look so lovely! Go! Go and have a marvelous time."
She sat up straight, patting the curl he'd tweaked. She felt silly in her Melmond fashions. Ruby, excited for the party, had insisted on doing Lena's hair for her, an elaborate style half up and half down. The curls that hung down tickled shoulders left bare by the swooping neckline of her blue dress, made of a light, gauzy fabric apparently quite popular among highborn ladies during the hottest part of the summer. The layered skirts, full but only knee length, made her feel like a bell flower, a tiny body over a thick bottom, atop sandals with ribbons that wrapped around and around her ankles before tying in ridiculously large bows.
"I don't see why we had to dress so fancy," Thad groused from where he sat at the foot of the bed. His own Melmond attire, a little red suit jacket similar in cut to the kind Harvey usually wore, seemed already rumpled despite the fact Lena was sure he had only just received it.
Orin chuckled again. "You would look fancier if your buttons were not crooked."
Thadius looked down at his chest, grumbling as he lifted his hands to fix them.
"You should go to this party, young master Shipman. I cannot go myself, though I would much prefer to. If you were to go, you could report back to me."
"Pfft," Thad hissed. "Yeah, right. Like I'm going to leave you here alone. Besides, you already used that excuse on Jack."
"Ah, so you were eavesdropping then? I suspected you might have been."
"No, I - !" Thad began, but then apparently thought better of arguing. "Alright, yes, I was. I'm still not going."
"Jack was here?" Lena asked. She hadn't seen him, not for days, not since that day by the frog pond.
Orin hummed an affirmation, nodding only slightly, too weak to do more. "He came back only this afternoon. He stopped in to check on me."
"Oh."
Thad nodded. "So if he's going to the party for you, I don't have to."
"I see you cannot be persuaded," Orin said.
"Nope."
Suddenly uncomfortable, Lena started to curl her legs under her, but stopped, remembering the shoes and not wanting to mess up the bows. Jack would be at the party. Yes, she knew plenty of other people who would be there - Ruby, Logan, the Hornwoods - but Kane was not yet back from his trip. If Thad and Orin weren't going, it suddenly seemed too much like she would be going to the party with Jack, something she wasn't sure she was ready for. She started to speak, to beg Thad to come with her, but stopped at a rustling noise from the hall. She turned toward the open doorway just as Ruby, smiling resplendently, came into view holding a small plate.
"There you are!" she chirped to Lena and Thad as she entered the room, skirts swishing. "The party's started without you! Are the two of you ready?" She went to the head of the bed, beside Lena, and leaned in to give Orin a quick one-armed hug. "Lord Orin! I'm so glad to see you doing well! I'm sorry I didn't stop by earlier."
"You had preparations to make. Thadius explained it to me." He gestured toward the plate, which held what looked like a slice of glazed cake. "For me?"
"Oh, I've brought you a little something from the party!" she said, scooping out a bite with a delicate silver spoon and holding it out for him. "I understand you're not yet well enough to attend, but we'll have another celebration when you're able!"
Orin ate the offered bite, smiling appreciatively. "Exquisite. Thadius, perhaps you should try a bite before you declare you aren't going."
"Not going?" Ruby said scandalized, turning to face Thad at the foot of the bed. "But you have to come, Thadius! You're the boy who single-handedly captured that dark mage! You're a hero! The soldiers would love to see you."
Thad frowned, pursing his lips, seeming torn by indecision. "I'll come a little a later. When I get hungry."
Lying, Lena thought. The way he gazed longingly at the plate in Ruby's hand, Lena knew he was hungry enough already. He worries for Orin, she thought, understanding. "Perhaps I should stay too?" she said.
"Nonsense," Orin said emphatically, though his head shake was small and weak. "I will not allow it. I am not on my deathbed. You will go now. Thadius will follow as soon as he has fed me this delicious cake. You will both report back to me on these festivities later this evening."
"But, Orin!" Thad said.
"I must insist!" Orin snapped, forcefully enough that Thad shut up, mid-protest. The old man was breathing heavily from his tirade, and for a moment Lena was worried he had overexerted himself.
She reached out a comforting hand, but Ruby grabbed it, pulling Lena away. "You heard him!" Ruby said, pressing the plate on Thadius before she hustled Lena out the door. Lena looked back one last time, viewing the old man through her soul sight again. He was well. He would be well. Why, then, did she still feel worried?
The band played a waltz Jack recognized, one Iris used to hum often. Jack watched the dance, but couldn't concentrate on the steps, too distracted by the dancers.
The auras swam together, a blur of colors as the party guests moved about the manor's huge front lawn. Jack closed his eyes, but it did no good - even without his aether sight, he couldn't block out his awareness of so many souls. I don't need them, he reminded himself. He'd just filled the hollow place in his soul. I don't need them, I don't need them.
"Steady, lad," Redden said beside him.
Though they stood at the edge of the crowd nearest the house, just in front of the wide, covered porch, Jack considered running indoors. Days of struggling against the aether had left him jumpy. The aether was calm now, but he couldn't seem to stop focusing on it, hyper-aware of every current, every pool... every aura. "I shouldn't have come," he whispered. "I shouldn't be here." Surrounded by people...
"You're fine. Quit whining," Redden said. A serving man passed nearby with a tray of tarts, and the bard dexterously snatched one for himself.
Jack ignored the man. The food. His stomach growled traitorously, but he was sure if he uncovered his face to eat he would be sick. All those people, all those eyes...
Jack had at first been hopeful, hearing that the party would be held outside, that he would be able to distance himself from the other guests, but there were just too many. There were more people now than there had been at the party Leiden had held the night they arrived. Every soldier who had participated in the fight against the vampire and her undead minions had been invited, even if they hadn't seen any action on that terrible foggy night. There was no fog now, and no moon, only a clear night sky, the stars keeping company with hundreds of colored paper lanterns. Leftover from Midsummer, Jack thought. The aether curled and danced around them, reacting to the candle flames inside of each one in a way that reminded Jack again of all the people, all the auras, and he had to look away.
Redden grabbed his arm. "You can handle this," he hissed. "I need you to handle this."
Jack nodded. He focused on his breathing. He only had to make it through the party. Redden and Lord Leiden had been fighting again - something about a foray Redden was planning to the South Cape as soon as Kane returned from the West Hills. Leiden didn't approve, apparently. Jack suspected that was why Leiden had insisted Jack had to attend the party, shaming Redden by showing off his "bastard" son. If Redden was ashamed, Jack couldn't tell. His own shame, though, was a presence as constant as the aether.
Redden sighed. "I'm sorry. If I had remembered this was happening tonight, I'd have left you at Unne's. Do you need to draw from me again?"
"No," Jack said quickly, though his heart leaped at the idea. Gods, the more I let myself give in, the more I want it. He composed himself. "No. I... You're right. I can do this. I'll be fine."
Redden nodded, releasing his hold.
The crowd grew and grew as the party went on. Redden had forced Jack out as soon as the first guests started arriving, and he had been making polite conversation with them at Redden's side. Ruby had run about squawking like a bird at the servants, finalizing all the details of the decor and the food, but once the band arrived, she was among the first to begin dancing, her steps horrid enough that they had nearly distracted Jack from her gleaming red aura. He'd focused on her at first, her and Redden, people he knew, as it was easier to tell himself he didn't need to draw from them, but he'd lost track of her at some point and the dancers had become a distraction once again.
Eventually, the crowd seemed to level out as new people stopped arriving. A fair number walked over to pay their respects to Redden, their legendary son of Titan. A few of those spoke politely to Jack, and he soon found that focusing on those idle conversations made it easier to ignore the auras that beckoned him. He could do this. He didn't need to draw on every person he met. He was...
Behind him, the manor doors opened. He heard Ruby's laugh, and when he turned, there was Lena. She was gorgeous. Jack turned to Redden to say he'd changed his mind, that he needed to draw from him again after all, but Redden was deep in conversation with a pair of soldiers, the three of them smiling and laughing with drinks in their hands. Jack started to excuse himself and flee out into the night, but his eyes were drawn inexorably back to Lena.
She'd done... something... with her hair, but that dress... It clung to her, emphasizing her slight waist before flaring out in a burst of blue that flowed over her hips like sea water, stopping well above her calves, her ankles, those shoes... Dear holy Ramuh, but he liked the sight of her in those shoes.
She wasn't graceful, stumbling on the porch steps, but even still Jack felt his mouth going dry with every step she took. Someone steadied her - Harvey, Jack noted absently, too stunned to think.
Ruby squealed something, and Lena looked up from her feet, looked right at Jack as Ruby and her entourage headed straight for him.
"Oh, you are back!" Harvey said, offering him a hand, shaking it. "I thought you might be, since Lord Carmine asked Gilbert to take in this jacket for you."
Ruby smiled, reaching up to straighten one of Jack's lapels. "It looks quite fetching. Don't you think, Lena?"
"Yes," Lena said quietly, her green eyes never leaving his face.
"We've missed you around the place," Harvey said. "Did you finish your project, then? Don't tell me Lord Unne's discovered some new artifact in that mine of his! Are we to expect a lecture series at the town hall?"
"No!" Ruby said, sternly. She reached up, patting Jack's cheek through the red scarf he wore to cover his scars. "I'll not have it! Not tonight! A party is no place to discuss archaeology!"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Jack said, inwardly pleased that he now had this excuse to avoid discussing what he'd been doing these past few days.
"Good!" Ruby said. "In that case, could I trouble you for a dance?"
Out there, among those auras… Jack stepped back from her, holding up a hand to ward her off. "Madam, I'm afraid I would only embarrass you," he said.
"Nonsense!" Ruby chittered. "You could never embarrass me. When you're as notoriously bad a dancer as I am, you develop an immunity to the sensation!"
Beside her, someone laughed, and it was only then Jack noticed Logan Quincey, his smile so charming and so perfect that Jack forgave himself an impulsive, jealous desire to punch him in the teeth. "If that's the case, then you really ought to be dancing with me," Logan said, bowing and offering his hand.
Ruby accepted it, smiling wickedly. "Until someone better turns up for you?" She nodded over to the food tables where Lord and Lady Hornwood stood chatting with a few other nobles, their daughters waiting dutifully beside them.
Logan's charming smile remained unchanged, but he blushed. "I don't know what you mean. Who could possibly be better than you?"
She giggled, but Jack missed her reply as Logan led her away toward the patch of lawn that had been cleared for the dancing.
"Well, this is awkward," Harvey said, laughing. "She didn't tell me she planned to dance with anyone. If she's dancing, father will expect to see me dancing as well. Miss Lena? Could I talk you away from Jack for one dance, at least? It would be a great favor."
"Oh!" she said, a tiny, surprised sound. She glanced at Jack as if she expected him to object. He nearly did, caught up in the thought of holding her close, her hand in his, dancing, but before he could speak, a chill ran up his spine. The auras of the other dancers seemed to flare up like dry leaves cast into a flame, responding to his unchecked desires, and again he knew he couldn't go near them.
"Go on," he said.
"Oh..." she said again, flustered this time, "but, Harvey, I'm afraid I don't know how to dance."
Harvey laughed, taking her hand, leading her away. "How convenient! Neither do I!"
Jack watched her go, but she didn't look back, didn't see him suppressing a shiver. He sensed Redden beside him, his own companions having wandered off at some point. Jack looked at him, and he knew from Redden's expression that Redden had seen that momentary weakness.
"I'm just… I'm just going to go now," Jack said.
Redden nodded. "Take some food. Find somewhere to eat it. Come back when you're settled."
Jack nodded back. He kept to the edge of the crowd as he walked away. The auras of every person he passed seemed to reach out to him.
"How about now? Is he looking now?"
Lena looked over Harvey's shoulder to the place where his father stood greeting a line of guards in their dress uniforms. Lord Leiden seemed attentive, interested in whatever the man before him was saying, but Lena knew a plastered-on smiled when she saw one.
"No, he's still- Oh! I'm sorry!" she said as she trod on Harvey's foot again. "I can either concentrate on the dancing or on whether your father is watching us, but not both!"
Harvey winced, but his smile remained. "'Dancing' is rather a generous word for it, don't you think? Anyway, at least we're evenly matched. Wouldn't it be awkward if one of us knew how to dance and the other didn't?" He cocked his head toward Logan and Ruby, where Ruby's clumsy ignorance made Logan look positively graceful in comparison. Logan surely knew it, from the sound of his laughter as Ruby butchered the steps. Ruby, true to her word, seemed not the least bit embarrassed, laughing at her own mistakes right along with him.
"I don't know," Lena said. "They seem to be doing alright."
"Would you rather dance with Logan? Or, perhaps, not at all? You don't have to keep this up if you'd rather not. I'm sure I could ask Bea; she'd never miss a chance to make me look a fool."
"No, it's fine," Lena said. "If we weren't dancing, I would only be standing around."
"But what about-" Harvey looked toward where they had left Jack before they started dancing. "Well, I say! He seems to have wandered off..."
"I'd noticed," Lena said. She came dangerously close to stepping on Harvey's foot again, but managed to redirect her step before she'd put her full weight on it, though she did stumble in doing so.
Harvey laughed, steadying her. "I do appreciate your help with this. As soon as I'm sure my father's seen me dancing, we can end this charade."
His smile was genuine. Lena felt his unrestrained, good-natured happiness and let it buffer her against the overwhelming emotions of the party crowd. He's a nice boy, Lena thought, but she could feel an underlying layer of shame beneath his pleasant surface. "You really worry what your father thinks of you, don't you?"
Harvey's smile turned guilty. "I just thought it would do him some good to see me actually performing my expected role for once. I know he hates these parties."
"Then why did he agree to it?" Lena asked.
"He's big on duty, my father. Does what's expected of a good lord. Whereas I usually…" Harvey trailed off, blushing, and in that silence, Lena noticed the band had stopped.
A murmur rose through the crowd and a feeling, not of fear, but of curiosity. She looked toward the commotion, near where the players stood in a pool of lantern light on the edge of the lawn nearest the road, their music to greet the guests as they arrived. The crowd there parted around a trio of travelers, plodding their way toward the house.
From the way they plodded along, Lena thought at first that they were more of the dead, but she quickly realized they were only tired and filthy, caked in Rot from their boots up. Were they refugees? Were they hurt? The three travelers looked haggard, certainly. She brought up her soul sight to check them for injuries, but she couldn't read their auras through the layer of Rot. As she looked closely, she realized she knew one of them. "It's Kane!" she said. She started to go to him, but Harvey held her back.
"Wait," he said, looking toward his father.
Leiden pressed toward the newcomers, the crowd parting to let him through. He passed right by Lena and Harvey without noticing them. He smiled warmly in greeting, but Lena felt nothing of that warmth in his bearing. He was... annoyed with Kane and his companions. To show up now, looking like that, in front of so many witnesses. People will talk, Lena realized.
"Boys, welcome back," Leiden said, clapping one of the other figures on the shoulder despite the mess, and Lena noticed that it was Gabriel. She didn't know the third figure, a skinny, older man, with a long, wispy white beard, but Leiden nodded to him in friendly greeting as if he did. "And I see you've brought another guest! Though your timing could be better. I expected you hours ago!" He laughed, and some in the crowd laughed with him.
He's lying, Lena thought. He hadn't expected them at all.
Leiden's laugh faded, but the insincere smile remained. "Well, we can't have you attending the party in your current state. Come inside. Let's get you cleaned up." He turned, motioning Kane and the others to follow him back to the house.
"They're exhausted! Surely your father won't really expect them to attend the party?" Lena asked.
Harvey shook his head. "I suspect he was only saying that for the crowd's benefit. He'll likely be wanting a report."
"A report? Report of what?"
Harvey shrugged. "Anything worth reporting, I expect. Oh, don't look at me like that. We both know Gabriel didn't go because he wanted to." He smiled when his father passed by, noticing them this time, and though Leiden smiled back, nodding to his son, he didn't stop and he didn't say anything.
Gabriel's eyes widened when he saw Lena there, and she cringed, remembering their confrontation by the frog pond the last time she'd seen him, but he must have remembered it too, and differently than she did, for she felt a keen sense of embarrassment from him and he blushed as he passed her, following his lord. The stranger saw her as well, smiling at her as if he knew her, but Kane didn't seem to notice her. Lena wondered if he saw anything, following Leiden with glazed eyes.
Something's wrong, Lena thought. This was more than simple exhaustion. Maybe he was injured beneath the Rot. She had to check. "Excuse me," she said, pulling away from Harvey.
"Miss Lena!" he protested, but he didn't follow.
The crowd of dancers began to close around her, but she forced her way through. They murmured, no longer interested in Leiden's new guests; Lena felt their curiosity disperse like dandelion fluff. The band began playing again, and she had to dodge around dancing couples.
Ahead of her, the others reached the house. The guards on the porch stepped aside for their master, opening the doors wide as Leiden scowled at them, and closing them again as soon as the group stepped through.
Those same guards stopped her at the door. "Sorry, miss," one said. "His lordship's orders. No one goes in."
"But I-"
"Open the doors," said a voice from behind her. Lena knew it was Redden's only because she could feel his anger; it sounded nothing like him, low and threatening.
The guard blanched, exchanging a quick look with his companion before the two of them opened the door. Redden surged past her and Lena had to scurry in after him before the guards closed it again.
The others were just ahead of them, past the stairs, entering the hallway that led to Leiden's office. "Arthur!" Redden barked, catching up to the man in a few long strides. Leiden turned, and Redden got right in his face, waving his hand toward the stranger who walked with Gabriel and Kane. "What is this? What is he doing here?"
Leiden's eyes blazed, but he kept his own anger on a short leash. "Why don't you ask your son?"
Redden grabbed Leiden by the lapels, shaking him. "Am I supposed to believe you had nothing to do with this?" he shouted.
Leiden didn't even flinch. "It's true whether you believe it or not. Why would I send for your mad brother?"
"He's no brother of mine!" Redden roared, spittle flying. "He killed Cid!"
"No!" the skinny stranger protested, shaking his head desperately. "I tried to stop him! I tried to stop all of you!"
"You did a shit job of it!" Redden snapped.
"It wasn't his fault!" Leiden said, coldly. "I was there, Redden. Cid died defending you."
Redden released him instantly, stumbling back a step as though the words had been a blow. The stranger caught him, placing steadying hands on his shoulders, but Redden jerked away from the touch, whipping around to face him. "Why are you here?" he snarled.
The stranger looked down at his feet. "To save your son," he said quietly.
"He knows about the prophecy," Kane said. "He knows I'm a Warrior of Light."
"Kane!" Redden snapped, but it was too late. The words were out.
Leiden looked between Redden and Kane with narrowed eyes. "Another prophecy? When were you planning on-"
"Yes," Kane said evenly, cutting off Leiden before his tirade could get under way. Lena could see nothing in his expression, could feel nothing from him save a bone-deep weariness. Though his voice was low and rasping, it was firm enough that Lena heard every word. "'When the world is in darkness, the light warriors will come.' That's how it goes. I don't know why. I don't know what I'm doing. Alright? Now you know as much as I do." Then he turned and strode away down the hall.
Lena ran to follow him, passing the others as quickly as she could so they wouldn't have a chance to stop her.
Lena passed in a blur. Redden had been so focused on Arthur, he'd forgotten she had followed him in. He stepped after her, after Kane, but Arthur grabbed him roughly by the arm. "Let him go," Arthur said coldly. "We have things to discuss, you and I."
"Unhand me," Redden growled, pulling away, but Leiden held firm.
"Stop! Both of you stop!" Sarda said from behind them. He spoke quietly, but with an edge of desperation. "Please, Redden. Your son doesn't want to talk to you right now. None of you are in the right frame of mind for talking tonight. Begging your pardon, Arthur. Besides, you forgot your key."
"Forgot my…" Arthur said, cocking his head in confusion. He patted his pockets and mumbled a curse. He strode for his office door and tried the knob, but it rattled without opening, locked tight. Arthur sighed, rubbing his forehead as though it ached. "We'll talk in the morning," he growled. He looked at Gabriel, and his expression softened. "Go up to your room. I'll order you a bath."
Gabriel nodded gratefully and left without a word, stumbling as he walked away.
He's that tired, Redden thought, realizing Kane must be tired too.
"You and your son," Arthur said, pulling Redden's attention back from the young sergeant's exit, "will be here, in my office, at dawn."
"You have my word," Redden said.
Arthur nodded, turning back up the hall. "Take Sarda to the room across from yours. I'll tell the servants."
"Me?" Redden asked. "Why should I have to-"
Arthur spared him a glare over his shoulder. "That wasn't a request," he snapped without breaking his stride.
Redden grumbled. Sarda only stood, waiting, nervously wringing his hands. The man had aged poorly. Only a few years older than Redden, he looked old enough to be Redden's own father. His father, too, Redden reminded himself. Bound by blood. But there was only one person of his bloodline that Redden cared about. "You said you were here to save my son."
Sarda shrugged. "I didn't know he was your son. I just knew I... He's important."
"Why?"
"I don't know," Sarda said, looking at his feet. "This is hard for me, Redden. I'm not used to being here. In the present. I can't explain what I know."
Redden waited, but Sarda didn't look up. This is the man who caused Cid's death, Redden thought bitterly. He looked less menacing than Redden had built him up to be in his mind - an old man, scrawny, sickly, and dirty. Sick from the Rot, Redden realized. Even a black mage who couldn't draw on the aether would have suffered passing through that corruption. He looked pitiful. To his surprise, Redden found he did pity him.
Redden sighed. "Come on," he said. "They prepared a bath for me earlier. Maybe no one's emptied it yet. The water wouldn't be fresh, but you wouldn't have to wait."
"Thank you," Sarda said. "I'm sure it's cleaner than I am."
Redden nodded, leading Sarda toward the stairs.
She didn't know which way he'd gone. Rushing down the hall, pausing at every turn to see if she could catch a glimpse of him, she nearly collided with a pair of servants, Gilbert and another man Lena didn't recognize. Clearly, he didn't recognize her either for he bowed as she passed; none of the others had ever done that, considering she was only a "servant" herself.
She reached the back door, which stood wide open to the night. "Kane?" she called, hurrying through it. She looked about the darkened yard, lit only by starlight and the dim light coming through a few of the house's windows. There was no one there.
In the garden? she wondered. She crossed the yard, passing through the arched entryway expecting to find him there but when she saw the figure sitting alone in the dark on the edge of the marble fountain, it wasn't Kane.
Jack sat with his back to her. Lena stopped immediately, but he must have heard her. He leaped to his feet, turning to face her across the splashing water. His eyes glittered out of the shadows, lit by subtle traces of a corona. It seemed as if they'd caught the starlight and reflected it back at her, green in the darkness, like a cat's.
He bowed slightly. "My lady. Hiding from the crowd again?"
Dark clothes, and dark hair, with that red scarf covering his face, he looked like the bandit hero of a story. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she realized she was staring. "Y-yes!" she stuttered, breaking her gaze away, looking at her feet. "I mean… no. I was looking for Kane."
"Kane? He's back?"
She nodded. "I thought he ran outside."
Jack looked past her, and the corona deepened as he read the aether. He shook his head. "No sign of him between here and the house. Shall we look inside?"
"No," she said. "I don't want to trouble you."
"You don't," he said, simply.
He meant it, she could tell, but when he stepped around the fountain toward her, glowing eyes unreadable, she stepped back.
He hesitated. "Are you sure it wasn't the crowd? I could leave you alone if you prefer."
"No," she said. "Let's... let's go find him."
He offered his arm to her, and when she took it, she wondered at the tension she felt in it. Was the night cooler now? Was he struggling to control whatever it was that had made it snow when she held him beside the frog pond? She thought back on other times she had seen him letting his emotions run free. Frost on the window, she thought, remembering that day on the ship when he'd shouted at Thad. But she also remembered him shivering in a cold spring rain after a nightmare, early in their journey together. There had been no frost then. It doesn't happen every time, she thought. It wasn't happening now. That didn't mean he felt nothing.
They reached the back door, but when Jack tried the handle, it didn't budge. "Was it locked when you came out?" he asked.
"No, it's... Oh! It was open," she said. "I must have closed it behind me..."
Jack shrugged. "No matter. We'll go around to the front."
He started to lead her that way, but she stopped. "There were guards. I don't think they'll let us in," she said.
He looked at her, his eyes the brightest thing in the near darkness. "What then?"
"I… I'm not sure…" She sighed. "I'm not really keen on rejoining the party..."
He chuckled. "I've reached the limits of my tolerance for parties as well." He patted her hand where she held to his arm, then turned and led her back toward the garden.
"I waited for you, you know," Sarda said, when they reached the second floor. "You were due at the house more than a week ago. I told them you would come, but you didn't."
Redden barked a skeptical laugh. "Me? At Cormorant Hall? That's unlikely."
Sarda shrugged. "I think I was looking at the future the wrong way." He laughed awkwardly. "Or I was looking at the wrong future! That happens too." The laugh became a cackle before it died off. "But it's not the future anymore. Now, it's passed."
Passed and past, Redden thought. All the years that had passed since Redden had last seen Sarda showed on the man's face. Sarda resembled their father in many ways, a frail, thin version of him anyway, one with a ridiculous beard that their father would never have worn, making him look every inch the madman. His ramblings weren't madness, Redden knew - the man could see through time - but they sounded no less mad for it.
The man wasn't rambling now, of course. He'd fallen silent after that last bit, following docilely as Redden led him to his rooms on the second floor. The bath was still there, the broad metal tub less than half full. "It'll be cold by now," Redden said. "I can heat it with a spell if you're willing to wait."
"Don't bother," Sarda said. "The journey here was hot enough. Just hand me the soap."
"It's there," Redden said pointing.
Sarda nodded and began to undo the laces of his shirt.
"I'll find you something clean to wear," Redden said, turning for the door, but he stopped when Sarda called his name.
"Redden? I know I can't explain why I'm here, but I know I can help him. I'll do everything in my power to see him succeed. I need you to know that."
Redden stood with his back to Sarda, hand on the doorknob. He knew he should just go, but he couldn't stop the question. "Will he succeed?"
Sarda hesitated a long time. Finally, he said, "I don't know. I think I'm going to die before then."
He said it so casually, Redden nearly turned around to ask him to repeat it, but he heard the sound of splashing as Sarda stepped into the bath, so he opened the door and slipped out.
Thad picked at the cake crumbs. Orin had fallen asleep after only a few bites and Thad had polished off the rest. Thad wasn't going to eat it - he had every intention of saving it for when Orin woke again - but he was so hungry, and he didn't want to leave. Now, though, the cake was gone, Orin slept, and Thad was still hungry.
He tried to ignore the rumblings of his stomach. He read from the book of knights' tales, hoping if he waited long enough Lena or Jack or Redden would return to sit with Orin and he could run off to the party, or to the kitchens to beg, without leaving the old man alone. He considered trying to speed things along, but given his inexperience, he considered it just as likely that he would get it backwards and end up waiting for hours in a bubble of frozen time. He would starve there, hungry and bored while the party went on endlessly without him.
Sighing, he set the book aside. Orin would want him to eat. He didn't have to stay at the party, he reasoned. He could make himself a plate and come right back. A big plate, he thought, with plenty for both of us. He eased off the end of the bed, moving quietly, and stepped softly into the hall.
The house was eerily quiet. Most of the servants had been helping with the party all day; they would be outside now. Thad's footsteps seemed to echo in the stillness. He worked to silence them, practicing his sneaking even now, and because he was moving so quietly, he heard the whispers long before anyone else would have.
They were coming from Leiden's office, just down the hall. The door was open. That would be a challenge, to see if he could sneak by unnoticed. He smiled as he crept closer, listening for any indication the speakers had heard him.
Men's voices, Thad thought, two of them. One was an older man, and the other... wasn't Leiden. That was odd, wasn't it? Why would anyone be in Leiden's office without Leiden? He told himself it was nothing. Servants, he thought. Just cleaning... while everyone else is outside. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. This was wrong.
He crept closer still, straining his ears to make out their whispered words.
"-no time," the older man said. "The White Wind's nearly recovered. They'll make for the cave soon, I know it."
"You were meant to see to him!" the other voice hissed. "You said you slipped him enough poison to fell a behemoth! Even Carmine's heals shouldn't have been enough to save him. How is he still alive?"
"I've told you. The girl's a white mage. She has to be."
Lena, Thad thought. Clearly, the older man, whoever he was, worked in the house. A spy? Thad pulled up his aether sight, hoping he knew the man by his aura alone. He didn't. The purple hue seemed familiar, but he hadn't gone so far as to memorize every aura he'd seen among the household staff. Stupid, he thought. He'd never make that mistake again. He slid along the wall, edging toward the door. There was nothing for it: he had to see them.
There was a sound of rustling papers. The old man said, "Found them. Take these."
"So many?" the other asked. "How did he find them all?"
"That I don't know. I'm near certain he's not a mage himself, but... I'm not entirely sure he's human either."
"I'd believe it. Lord Eldieme fears him. I've heard the others say so."
Thad stifled a shocked gasp. Lord Eldieme? That was the name of the necromancer. These men were Brotherhood for sure!
They sat in silence beside the fountain. Lena didn't put her feet in the water, not wanting to disturb the fish, but she had taken the silly shoes off. To her surprise, Jack had seemed disappointed when she did, but his emotions, as always, were a closed book to her, so she was sure she had imagined it.
He looked up at the stars, eyes glinting with aether. He might have been smiling beneath the red scarf, but Lena couldn't be sure.
"You're quiet," she said at last.
He glanced at her, then looked up again. "Well... I know you said it wasn't the party, but..."
"I don't mind talking with you," she said.
He nodded, looking at her again. "What would you like to talk about?"
"Oh, I... I hadn't thought of anything in particular." She looked down at her feet, curling her toes in the soft earth around the fountain, remembered him sitting beside her just like this one long ago night. "That other ball, back in Cornelia… Why did you ask me to dance if you didn't know how?"
He cocked his head, and the hint of confusion she felt from him at the question delighted her. "What makes you think I don't?"
"Earlier… you turned Ruby down when she asked you…"
He crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow at her once more. He seemed almost disappointed again. She strained her senses, seeking confirmation, but again she was blind to what he was feeling. "I said I would only embarrass her. Have you seen her dancing? It's terrible, and can only look more so compared to mine."
She laughed, for it was so very Jack, the withering tone of voice she heard him use so often with Kane but never with her. That he would be comfortable enough to speak to her so casually gave her hope. She smiled at him, but he only stared at her. "You… you're serious?"
He looked about the garden, as though checking to be sure they weren't being watched, and then he stood, uncrossing his arms as he swept her a low and courtly bow. "May I have this dance, my lady?"
She opened her mouth to respond, but she was struck speechless, gaping like a landed fish as he took her right hand in his left and pulled her to her feet. She found her voice when he pulled her closer, his other hand resting on the small of her back. "Jack! I don't know how!"
"Move your right foot first," he said.
She stumbled almost immediately, clinging to him, and felt his hand tighten around hers as he kept her from falling. There was something odd about his fingers that caught her attention, but then he laughed and all her focus homed in on that sound. He so rarely laughed.
"I'm sorry," she said, smiling. "I did tell you I couldn't."
"You only need to learn the steps. You can stand on my feet if you like," he said.
"Was that sarcasm?" she asked. "I'm not in the habit of dancing with men who are sarcastic to me!"
His eyes glinted in a way that could not have been due entirely to the corona. "Forgive me, my lady, but you don't appear to be in the habit of dancing at all."
She started to respond to that, something witty about the scarcity of suitable dance partners, but the words caught in her throat as he lowered his face and she felt the scarf tickling her ear as he said, "Just follow my lead."
She tilted her head up, looking into his eyes, so close. "I'm trying," she said, her throat raw. "I'm trying, Jack."
His eyes widened. Did he know she wasn't referring to the dancing? Then he chuckled, touching his forehead to hers, pulling her in closer as he swayed to a song Lena couldn't hear.
Redden knocked, waiting for Sarda's call before he went in. The man was still in the bath, laying back in the water with his head hanging over the edge of the tub, eyes closed.
Redden shook his head. It looked uncomfortable to him. Besides, the scummy water must be freezing. "I think these will fit you," Redden said, laying clothes on the bed. "Jack's taller than you are, but he's skinny."
Sarda looked over at them. "Thank you," he said. He sighed, laying his head back again. He seemed to be admiring the ceiling. "They did a good job here. Rebuilding, I mean."
"Rebuilding?" Redden asked.
"Yes," Sarda said, nodding in approval. "You'd never know there'd been a fire."
Redden cocked his eyebrow. "I think you're looking at the wrong future again."
Sarda sat up, looking at Redden with wide, surprised eyes. "Why do you say that?"
"This place has never caught fire."
"Never?"
Redden shook his head. "I'm sure I'd have heard about it."
"Oh..." Sarda said. He looked down at the water in the tub, then suddenly leaped to his feet, springing for the bed. He grabbed the pants Redden had brought him and hopped about trying to put them on without drying himself first. "My boots! Give me my boots!"
"Why? What is it? What's wrong?"
"I'm not looking at the future, Redden! I'm here! With you, right now! I'm looking at right now!"
"You're looking at..." Redden trailed off. "Fire? Here?"
Sarda nodded, pulling a shirt over his head.
Redden found the man's boots and tossed them over. "Come on!" he shouted. "Hurry!"
Back to the wall, Thad tilted his head past the doorframe enough that he could see inside. Gilbert! Leiden's manservant! Thad didn't recognize the other man, but they'd trashed the office. Every drawer was open, every cabinet. Papers littered the floor, the heavy table. Gilbert was busily piling them against the wall. The other man was focused on a stack of files coated in an aura the dark brown of rich earth. Thad knew that aura: the files had been Pollendina's.
Those must be the lists of mages he's found in town! Thad thought. The Brotherhood didn't tolerate outsiders. Mages either joined them or died. He pulled his head back and began slowly creeping away from the door. He couldn't risk slipping past it, being seen, but if he could make it back to Orin's room, he could climb out the window, find Redden, the guards, anybody.
"They're keeping Porter in one of the outbuildings on the south east side," Gilbert said. "Only two guards - they have him sedated, but the potion I gave you should counteract it."
"'Should'? Will he be well enough to shift all of us?"
"You'd better hope he is, or else we'll die with the rest of them. Just get him ready. I'll find the girl. When the fighting starts, I'll lead her there."
"You're that sure she's a white mage?"
"Well, if she isn't, then the assassin isn't human either."
"What about the other one?"
"Sedium? I took care of him. I had enough of that poison left." The sounds of shifting papers stopped. "Alright," Gilbert said. "Light it."
There was a "whoosh", followed by a crackling. A flickering light outlined the doorway against the wall opposite. Thad moved faster, ducking around a corner. He peeked back to watch the two men leaving, then he ran back to the office, looking inside, hoping he could douse the flames quickly.
The blaze was already climbing the wall, licking the ceiling. Smoke billowed toward him like a hungry beast seeking a meal. He closed the door. That was supposed to help, right? Closing doors? He could still hear the fire burning inside.
"Orin!" he called, running back the way he came. "Orin! Wake up!"
He opened to her as the dance went on. She felt it as surely as she felt his arms around her. He was trying. He was as nervous as she was, but on top of that, he was pleased. Even when she stumbled, his pleasure in her company was a heady and palpable thing. "You're getting it," he said.
"You're lying," she said, smiling up at him, feeling his joy.
He shook his head, laughing lightly. "You're not getting it. Just count your steps. One, two, three. One, two, three."
She looked down through the narrow space between them, trying to see her feet, but her skirts blocked her view. "Maybe I will stand on your feet after all," she said, running her thumb over his gloved fingers where their hands met. Again, it felt odd. She thought back on all the times she'd held his hand - always the right one, for it was his right arm he always offered her, so she was most often on that side. She didn't think she'd ever held his left one before. "Is something wrong with your hand?" she asked, looking at it.
He pulled his hand from hers. He drew back from her entirely - both mentally and physically - and had a noise from the bushes not startled them both, he would have stepped away.
At the sound he pulled her closer.
A man stumbled drunkenly out of the hedges surrounding the garden. He landed hard on hands and knees, brush and twigs tangled in his clothes and hair. His leg seemed grossly twisted under him, and Lena worried he had injured himself as he fell. If he was as drunk as he seemed, he might try to walk it off and do himself more harm.
She called up her soul sight to assess the damage, then she gasped. This man had no soul.
"Are you well, sir?" Jack called, moving as if to step toward the soulless man to offer him aid.
She grabbed at his shirt, hard, desperate to hold him in place. "Jack, that man is dead!"
He stopped instantly, eyes widening. Without looking away from the man, he pushed her back. "Behind me," he said.
They backed toward the garden gate slowly, watching the thing on the ground. It didn't appear to have noticed them. It seemed confused, moaning as it struggled to stand on its broken leg. When it stood up once more, the moonlight reflecting off of its dead eyes, Lena could see that its chest was torn open, empty, like some monster had eaten the heart right out of it. It turned, and it looked at them. Its moaning rose in volume, answered by others somewhere out in the garden.
Jack flung his hand out, slicing through the air, and a line of fire slashed through the creature. "Run for the house," Jack said, his eyes replaced by a corona of red flame.
She hurried through the garden gate, into the courtyard, with Jack close behind her. She screamed as another of the creatures appeared on the path ahead of her, reaching for her with claw-like fingers raw at the tips, showing exposed bone. Jack grabbed her arm, pulling her back as he made another sign with his free hand and called up the fire again.
"Make for the house!" he repeated.
She ran. Behind her, she heard the rushing sound of flame as Jack threw spells at the creatures, more of them than she had thought. She reached the door, but it wouldn't open. "Jack! The lock!"
He hurried to her. "Move!" he said, throwing himself at the door shoulder first. She felt his pain, heard him grunt, but he did it again and again.
She turned to the garden, watched as more of those things lurched through the archway behind them. "Jack..." she said nervously. "Jack!"
Fire sprang from the closest of the creatures. It shrieked as it fell, but the others walked forward over it, heedless of the flames. Jack waved a flaming hand toward them and more of them caught alight, but still more came. He looked down at her with those glowing red eyes. "Forgive me, my lady, but you wouldn't happen to know how much you weigh?"
"What?"
"Forget it. Just… Just hang on to me." He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, holding her in a way that he had only ever done before in her dreams. His aura flared, filling her vision, as he drew more aether into himself, and then the world dropped away until there was nothing left in all of existence but the two of them.
Kane picked at the dried mud on his clothes, the muck of the Rot. It came away in huge flakes, littering the floor around where he sat. He was somewhere in the servants' quarters. He'd initially gone looking for the kitchens, knowing Berta at least would see him fed, but he'd taken a wrong turn in the unfamiliar passages and so instead he'd just sat in the floor feeling sorry for himself.
Well, he had had about enough of that. He felt disgusting, tired and dirty. He wanted out of these clothes, wanted to crawl into that enormous bed upstairs and pretend, at least for one night, that he was only Kane again, that his life wasn't ruled by prophecies and destinies beyond his understanding or control. He stood and he walked, trying to remember which way he had come.
He took a turn he thought he recognized, though he didn't remember it being quite so warm. Well, it was summer after all. It had been a hot enough day. If no one had opened the windows around here to allow a breeze, of course it would swelter like an oven. The air in the hallway smelled...
Now that was odd. More than merely smelling musty or stale, the air here smelt of smoke. No, he thought. My luck couldn't possibly be that bad.
"Help!" a voice cried from a distant corner of the house. "Someone help!" It sounded like...
"Shipman?" Kane called.
"Kane!" the voice answered. "Kane, it's burning! We have to get Orin out!"
He ran.
Jack's knees buckled as the spell resolved, the Teleport leaving him feeling as if he'd slammed into the ground. He could hear Lena's voice, but it sounded far away; as a Cure settled over him, it took him a moment to realize she was calling his name. "I'm alright," he said.
"Jack, look!" she cried.
There were the lights of the party ahead of him, but he'd missed his aim badly. They were at the side of the house, not the front, and between them and it, a dozen zombies. Even as he noticed them, they were noticing him, shambling toward the two of them.
"Chusgino," he cursed. He called up fire again, but it flew wild, burning the grass of the well-kept lawn as much as the zombies. Too soon, he realized. Too soon after that Teleport.
There was nowhere left to run. They were pinned against the manor, zombies coming in from all sides. Jack shoved Lena behind him, trying to shield her body with his.
The first of the zombies was nearly upon them. Jack unleashed another fire spell, gritting his teeth as he struggled to aim it in his weakened state, knowing even as he did it that it wouldn't be enough. The creature rushed him as it burned, and he braced for the impact, but where he expected it to slam into him, it stopped short, colliding with a white wall of aetheric energy. Lena grunted at the blow, her fingers digging painfully into his chest as she gripped him from behind.
Jack could feel the heat of his fire as the creature beat against the Protect spell. He could feel the force of its blows, but it couldn't reach him. He called fire again, watched the creature collapse as its body burned, but another closed in behind it, beating gnarled fists futilely against Lena's Protect. Jack could see the spell shaking with each blow.
"Cast and hold it!" Jack said. "We have to get to the front of the house!"
He felt her nodding against his back, her arms squeezing his ribs painfully, but he didn't care. He focused on his own spells, attacking as she defended, step by careful step, their backs to the wall.
Ruby danced with her brother. They were comically bad at it. In fact, they'd drawn quite a crowd, the men in soldiers' uniforms hooting with laughter. She smiled as the song drew to a close and Harvey bowed to her. She gave him a perfect curtsy in return.
"Had enough?" he asked her.
"Never!" she said. "Didn't you notice? We're the entertainment!"
A few of the watching soldiers cheered.
Harvey laughed. "Well, far be it from me to deny them their fun, but I do need a drink before we proceed."
"I suppose I can spare you for one song, at least," Ruby said.
"How generous of you, sister!" Harvey said, bowing again before he headed toward the refreshment tables.
The next song started, a reel, bright and quick. Just as well, Ruby thought. She definitely didn't know any fast steps. She looked around for one of her friends, someone to chat with, and Gilbert came up to her, bowing respectfully.
"Mistress?" he said as he rose. "Your father wishes you to join him."
"He does? Where is he?"
"I'm to take you to him," Gilbert said. "Right this way."
"Your sister throws an excellent party," Vince said.
"Mmm!" Harvey agreed. He turned, drink to his lips, finishing it off before he spoke. "She does, doesn't she? Maybe father will let her do this sort of thing more often."
Vince smiled. "The men seem to be enjoying it. But whatever happened to your father? It's nearly time to present the commendations." The thin secretary looked out at the crowd of soldiers, searching.
"Oh, he'll be along," Harvey said. "He only stepped inside for..." He trailed off. Vince stared into the darkness at the edge of the lawn, past the lantern light. Harvey looked that way as well. "I say, is there something out there?"
The music stopped abruptly.
One by one, with interminable slowness, the things burned. It only took seconds, but each second seemed a lifetime when more and more of them were coming at him, appearing out of the darkness, dragging themselves toward him, toward Lena, with unsteady but relentless steps.
I have to protect her, Jack thought desperately. Please, gods, help me.
She prayed too. He heard her muttering to Leviathan. She couldn't hold the spell, not long enough. The beasts kept breaking through. How many times had she recast it now? Four? Five? Each iteration had left the protective bubble surrounding them a little smaller than it had been before. How many times could she cast it again?
He pushed on. The edge of the house was just there, only two zombies blocked their path forward now, but Jack kept having to stop and take out more from behind. He felt his energy flagging, his reserves dwindling. He heard Lena cry out every time one of those things slammed into her wards. Gods, but he had to protect her. He had to!
They were close now. The two ahead of them hadn't noticed them yet, plodding as they were toward the front of the house. If Jack could just get close enough without them turning around, he could hit them both at once. He focused on his next spell.
"Jack! Listen!" Lena said.
He tried, but he heard only the snarling of the creatures attacking him, the crackle of his flames, more of those things moaning in the distance but growing ever closer. "What?" he said. "I can't-" But then his ears picked out the subtle distinctions: shouts among the snarls, the sounds of battle, more flames than his own, screams among the moans, living screams.
There would be no safety around the corner. The creatures had the house surrounded.
Kane followed the sound of Thad's voice into a hallway so smoky he almost didn't recognize it. He was coughing by the time he reached Orin's room. Orin and Shipman were alone, the boy trying to boost the old man up, but Orin was coughing weakly himself. He looked like he could barely stand.
Kane rushed to his side, wedged himself under the old man's bony arm and hoisted him up. "Lead the way!" he barked at Shipman.
The boy nodded and hurried out.
Kane hauled Orin forward, but the monk shuffled his feet so slowly that Shipman had to circle back for them. "Come on! Come on!" the boy urged.
Kane grunted. "Orin, I'm sorry. I'll have to carry you."
The monk nodded. "Now is no time for excessive pride!"
Kane stooped, flinging the old man over his shoulder, and hurried after the boy.
Harvey stumbled as Vince pushed him, knocking him out of the way just as another of the things surged forward. Harvey cried out as the thing fell to the ground beside him. He scrambled to get away, but Vince's thin-bladed sword stabbed downward, skewering the dead man's head as the blade sank down up to the hilt.
"Get inside, my lord!" Vince said, pulling his sword free and turning to face another of the vicious things.
Harvey ran. He heard Vince call behind him, "Inspectors! On me!" and he saw the inspectors in their black and gray uniforms rushing past him.
Chaos. It was chaos. Soldiers fought the snarling beasts, their wives and lovers screamed in terror. Harvey wasn't the only one fleeing toward the house. He saw Lord and Lady Talbot defended by a pair of inspectors. He saw the Hornwoods, with Beatrix and her father both swinging makeshift weapons as Nicole helped her mother flee the fighting.
"Harvey!" Logan called, grabbing his shoulder. "You shouldn't be out here!"
"I'm aware!" Harvey said.
Logan nodded, hauling him up the porch. "Come on!"
They made it to the door. Logan shoved him inside then turned back to the fray. There were other people here, milling around in the foyer. But something seemed wrong, something Harvey couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Get out!" someone screamed. "Get out of here!" A group of people came barreling down the stairs: his father, a handful of servants, Redden, Gabriel, and the strange man he'd brought back with him. The stranger was the one shouting. "Fire!" he said. "The house is on fire!"
"But we can't go out there!" Harvey said.
"Trust me, Harvey," Gabriel said, reaching him. "We can't stay in here either."
It was only when he stepped back out into the fresh air that he realized what had been bothering him: the smell of smoke.
The smoke was everywhere. Kane tried to crouch low, but it slowed him down. He couldn't carry Orin if he had to crawl. Shipman doubled back again - the boy moved so fast! - and skidded to a stop in front of them. "The back door's jammed. We'll have to go through the front! It's the only way out!" he said.
"But you said the fire was worse that way!" Kane said.
"I know!"
Kane clenched his jaw, nodding. "Let's go."
The boy bolted. Kane ran to keep up with him, smoke stinging his eyes, his nose, his lungs. He coughed hard enough to see stars. He could hear Orin coughing weakly as he carried him.
He could hear the fire roaring as they turned into the next hallway, could feel the sweat streaming down his face.
Shipman grabbed his hand. "I can make us faster. I think I can make us faster!" He pulled them forward.
Kane couldn't tell if they were faster or not. He couldn't breathe. It was so hot. The fire was all around them, on the walls, the ceiling. The house groaned and creaked...
...And shifted.
"Go!" Shipman said, tugging his arm. "Go! Go!" Then the boy released him, running ahead with unnatural speed.
Kane ran after him. He saw the beam coming down, he knew he wouldn't make it. He screamed in defiance.
And as he screamed, the beam began to fall. The roar of the flames filled his ears. He ran, feet pounding against the floorboards. He saw Shipman ahead of him, saw the boy turn back and raise his hands, palms out.
The terrible roaring faded to a dull hum. The flickering flames swayed slowly. The beam came down...
...And it stopped, hanging in mid-air a few feet from the floor. Kane dropped, sliding under it, holding Orin tightly. They fell over on the other side, both of them scuffed and bruised, but alive.
Shipman's hands began to shake. The beam hit the floor with a crash as Shipman fell to his knees.
"When did you learn to do that?" Kane asked as the fire roared to life again.
"Just now!" the boy said, breathing heavily. He tried to stand, but fell.
"Come on!" Kane said, lifting him in one arm, carrying Orin over the other shoulder.
"Come on!" Jack growled. The fire spell flew from his hands and sputtered uselessly to the ground. That's it, he thought. That's the last one. A whole score of the creatures remained. They beat at the Protect spell, snarling, snapping, shoving each other this way and that for a chance at their trapped prey. Lena clung to him, behind him still, and when her spells gave way, he would be the only thing shielding her from those beasts.
Not much of a shield, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut. He needed more aether. He had no other option. "I'm sorry," he said. "Lena, I'm so sorry."
He looked at that beautiful blue aura, ready to draw it in, and behind her, there was fire. It was... It was inside the house. He stretched his senses. Yes, the house was burning. Fire... What was Refial always saying? "Look for the bit of aether shaped like the spell you want and cast it from there."
Well, there was a lot of fire-shaped aether to be had just now.
Fire blazed up from the house. It flew through the air like a long-feathered bird. It slammed into the zombies like a falling stone. Lena clung to Jack, and she could feel his body tense with the effort of controlling it. With her soul sight active, and particularly this close to him, she could feel his determination, his fear. As she watched, the zombies fell, their reanimated corpses unable to withstand the flame.
The fire winked out with a suddenness that left her blinking. He did it, she thought, looking out at the now empty lawn. He must have seen it too, for she could feel his relief.
But then she felt nothing at all from him, like a door had slammed on his mind. She gasped as he became a dead weight against her. He was so much bigger than she was. She couldn't hold him up. With an undignified squeak, she slid with him down the wall until she could set him down gently against the scorched ground.
"Jack?" she called, but he didn't answer. She ran her hands over him, checking for injuries. His heart hammered beneath her hands, beating impossibly fast, but his chest seemed eerily still. She couldn't tell if he was breathing.
"Jack!" She pulled at his scarf as she knelt above his head. She cried out in dismay when she saw the bead of blood leaking from his nose. "Jack!" she called again, readying a Cure spell with everything she had left, cradling his face between her hands. When her hands touched the bare skin of his cheeks, she felt a jolt, a shocking sensation that made her cry out with a sudden dizziness as his soul seemed to ripp the spell from her.
He took one, ragged, gasping breath. She could see a black corona through the slits of his closed eyes. He groaned as he slowly opened them, blinking as though it were early morning and he still wanted to sleep, the corona fading as he did so.
"Jack?" she said, leaning over him, settling her hand over his cheek to get his attention. "Say something, please!"
He blinked a few more times, seeming out of sorts as he tried to focus on her. "Why are you upside down, my lady?"
She sobbed in relief. Without thinking, she bent over him, lowering her lips to his in a relieved, grateful kiss.
He made a noise, a muffled sound of surprise. She felt his surprise - unrestrained, undiluted surprise - and she snapped out of it, pulling away from him just as that little sound he was making transitioned into a hum of pleasure. When she sat back, she could see his hand hovering there between them, as though he had been reaching up to caress her hair.
His eyes - focused now - were so huge and so blue. "Lena…" he muttered.
What happened to following his lead? she thought, berating herself. "I... Jack, I..."
She started at the sound of running feet. Jack sat up shakily, rolling up onto his knees beside her, but the people who came around the corner of the house were alive, their souls bright and vibrant against the night. A dozen or more guards, and Lord Leiden walked at their head.
"Him," Leiden said, pointing at Jack. "Take him."
"No!" Lena cried, trying to come between them, but more guards grabbed her, hauling her to her feet, pinning her arms to her sides. "Let go!" she protested. "Let go of me!"
Jack winced, his bare face twisted in pain, as they hauled him up, but he didn't struggle.
"Jack?" Lena said.
He shook his head. "We have the worst luck with these sorts of parties. Have you noticed?"
Leiden leaned in close. He had to look up, as Jack was taller, but he sneered. Lena felt the hate roll off him in waves. "I knew they had a spy in my house. What did you tell them?"
"I don't know what you mean," Jack said. His head snapped to the side as Leiden slapped him. His nose bled freely now.
"Arthur!"
Leiden turned. Redden stood there backlit by lantern light. Kane, Thad, and Orin stood with him.
"Let them go, Arthur."
"He's a mage, Redden!"
"I know that. Let him go."
Leiden shook his head. "He's the spy. I'm sure of it!"
"He's no spy, Arthur. I am," said Redden.
Leiden looked at him in horror. "The Brotherhood…?"
"No, not for the Brotherhood," Redden said. "For Cornelia."
"You!" Leiden hissed. He rounded on his guards. "Seize them! All of them!
The guards hesitated. Redden was still a legend to them.
"I said seize them!" Leiden repeated.
"Belay that," a voice said.
The guards went still.
Vince Pollendina came around the corner of the house flanked by his Avenue Inspectors. "Stand down," he said, his voice ringing with command.
"You don't give the orders here, Vince!" Leiden snarled.
"No," said the secretary, and his eyes glowed with a golden light. "But Titan does. In the name of our god, stand down."
Author's Note: 4/5/19 - Lately I've been doing my writing in "4 The Words", a website that turns writing into a video game. You write words in order to kill monsters, get loot, and do quests, and the site includes incentives for daily activity. Maybe it's just the gamer in me, but I'm finding it stupidly motivating. I haven't missed a writing day since I started using it at the end of December. I've written more than 200k words in just over 3 months (alas, not all of those words were for this story). Overall, it's been a positive experience and I recommend it.