A Burning in the Bones (Waxways #3)

Chapter 2 Ren Monroe

2 REN MONROE

Landwin Brood was dead.

And yet, he still managed to annoy Ren with great regularity. After they’d shown his corpse to the other houses—confirming Theo’s ascension as head of house—there’d been a flurry of activity. Documents to sign. Ceremonies to attend. An expensive funeral to arrange. Ren and Theo had initially been focused on the moral task ahead of them. What would it look like to steer an ancient house, built on brutality, toward a brighter future. It was all they had really discussed after the funeral. Their reign—how it would be different. Ren had never imagined it would all be so…

“Tedious,” she spat. “That’s the only word that fits. This is tedious .”

Theo nodded and paced, nodded and paced.

“I mean, what is the point of scheduling a specific time? If that’s not when the meeting is?”

Her bond-mate didn’t respond. Ren could sense him trying to push soothing thoughts across their link—and she swatted them away with a mental backhand. She was in no mood to be placated. They had been waiting outside the viceroy’s residence—Beacon House—for forty-three minutes. They stood on a sprawling verandah that connected the more famous government building with the viceroy’s actual private residence. Guards roamed in and out of sight. All Brightsword paladins. If she walked to the very corner of the porch, she could see most of Kathor—stretched out before her like a dream. It would have been more inspiring if the man in charge of running the city understood the concept of time.

“Seriously, if it was your father standing here—”

The great doors swung open. She expected another guard, but it was the viceroy himself. He wore a simple charcoal suit that drew out the silver in his hair and beard. The only slash of color was a crimson scarf, artfully knotted at his throat. He offered Ren a perfunctory nod before his eyes landed on Theo. Everyone always looked to Theo. Never mind the fact that she’d been the one to bring the former version of House Brood to its knees.

“Am I terribly late?”

Theo said, “Of course not,” just loud enough that Ren’s less charitable answer went unheard. The two of them exchanged a glance. Her bond-mate offered her a quick smirk. That almost-smile calmed her more than anything else could. The viceroy gestured and they entered and Ren supposed a proper apology was simply expecting too much.

Martin Gray was one of the most well-loved viceroys in recent memory. He possessed the unique quality of belonging to the great houses and to the people. Those in power were always quick to hold him up to the rest of the population. See? This is what comes of hard work and brilliant magic. Be like him, and you can accomplish anything. The great houses left out the part where he was the second son of an incredibly wealthy merchant. They also didn’t emphasize the fact that the viceroy possessed little actual power.

He was the official leader of the Brightsword Legion—though there were generals throughout those ranks who, if push came to shove, would swing loyally back to their original houses. He could also veto laws, arrange tribunals, and exercise emergency powers that allowed him access to the resources of any house. But all the research on the subject proved viceroys rarely did any of those things without the direct involvement of the houses themselves. Essentially, he was the stick they occasionally used to rap each other on the knuckles.

Gray led them into a room with high ceilings. There were cushioned chairs circling a war table—though the only war the viceroy appeared to be waging was against a stack of unsigned documents. A fire crackled in the background. Most of the room’s light came from a run of copper-plated windows at the far end of the room. Once they were seated, he looked at them like old friends who’d spent far too long apart.

“Theo Brood. From exile to this. You’ve accomplished something that hasn’t been done in over a century. The other houses were all so flustered about it, but I must say, I admire you. It was quite the move on your part. Bravo.”

Ren wished she could roll her eyes. Theo had been incredibly bold, of course, but it never ceased to stun her how quickly they mitigated her role in the story. She could also hear the words just beneath all of the bullshit praise: We could not find a way to deny you, and so with great annoyance, welcome to the club. Theo appeared unbothered by this opening.

“That’s very kind,” he said. “We appreciate you taking this meeting.”

“Of course.” Gray leaned back in his chair. “Consider me at your disposal.”

Theo nodded. “We have several matters to discuss. I know your time is precious. I’ll let Ren take the lead and I’ll chime in as needed.”

Gray’s attention flicked to her. His smile appeared more forced now.

“Of course. Ms. Monroe. Where would you like to begin?”

Ren set a folder down on the table between them. “First, there’s the matter of the Betraskan farms,” she began. “We’d like the original tenants restored to their positions. It seems that, in the past week, the Shiverians replaced them with some of their own house members. You and I both know that’s an overstepping of the original accord that governs the southern provinces. I’ve highlighted the language in that contract here… and here.”

Tedious. That was the right word for all of this. Ren and Theo had spent the last few months drowning in bureaucracy. They had not visited any local shelters to hand out food. There were no grand moments of justice or restoration. None of the past had been put right. Instead, they had discovered that Landwin Brood—for all his faults—was a damned busy man.

His responsibilities were so expansive that Ren was starting to think that he had existed outside the boundaries of time itself. Thugar had been running the Brood estate, but it appeared that Landwin had secretly been steering the ship for his wayward son. Landwin’s wife—Marquette Brood—had no interest in day-to-day operations. She’d spent most of her time reading about obscure pieces of history or attending luncheons. At one point, Tessa Brood had been appointed to manage some of the Brood’s minor houses—but she’d ceded those duties back to her father after securing a role at the opera house. Ren couldn’t fathom how Landwin had managed everything. Ren thought about that often. What secrets had died with the family’s patriarch? What small pieces of history had she killed when she’d cast that final spell?

Theo and Ren had divided his father’s responsibilities right down the middle—and yet both of them felt stretched beyond capacity. She was sleeping less than ever. The two of them would sometimes work in the same room, but had enjoyed little time together beyond that. This meeting was a perfect representation of why everything took so long. A combination of archaic contracts that could be misconstrued, and a painfully slow process for lawful clarification.

It took nearly twenty minutes to resolve the tenancy issue of the farm that was co-owned by the Shiverians and the Broods. Another fifteen minutes discussing a tax on canal goods that had stopped benefitting their house, and instead penalized them for not “operating using their own privately owned crafts.” Ren ended her part in the proceedings by successfully reminding the viceroy that ten trained legionnaires from Brightsword should have been enlisted to their house on the first day of the month. He agreed to send those soldiers without delay. When Ren closed her folder, the viceroy clapped his hands together.

“How efficient,” he said. “If that’s all, I’ll see you out.”

“Not quite.” Theo reached into the folds of his jacket. He slid a new folder onto the table between them. Ren’s stomach turned slightly. She buried the feeling quickly. Better to not let her fears flow across their bond at all. The folder he’d just set on the table looked identical to the one Landwin Brood had shown Ren before his death. The same color. The same style. But when Theo opened this one, it did not contain the only secret she’d kept from him. None of the private research that had been conducted into what happened that fateful day in the portal room.

Theo’s folder held just one document. “This is the city’s official defense contract. We need to renew it. This should have been signed weeks ago.”

Gray leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the tabletop, as he read through the contract. It felt like a delay tactic to Ren. This document had to be known to him. He’d signed it nearly a decade ago, though he’d been sitting across from Landwin Brood then.

“The contract, as I understand it, is a formality,” Theo added. “The original agreement was made in perpetuity. We sign it every ten years for show, but I’ve learned that some of our contracted workers have reportedly been locked out of the buildings covered in this contract. There’s really no reason it would need to be enforced that way.”

Gray nodded, eyes still scanning the page. “What are you asking exactly?”

“Why is it being enforced that way?”

“Locked doors and all that?”

Theo nodded.

“Well, the contract is in perpetuity on our end,” Gray explained. He tapped one of the first paragraphs. “As you can see, there’s a loophole here that allows your family out of the binding agreement. If you so desire. When you didn’t arrive to sign the contract, I simply assumed you might not be interested in continuing in that role for the city.”

“That’s quite an assumption,” Ren interjected.

Gray shrugged. “I would have had to make an assumption either way.”

“Oh, come on,” Ren said. Theo cut her off with a calming gesture. She knew she was reacting heatedly, but the viceroy was clearly playing the fool. Theo’s reply was more gracious.

“There would be no benefit in letting those contracts lapse,” he said. “We would lose access to any number of benefits to our house if we allowed those positions to return to the Kathorian government. Not to mention those are citywide defenses. You’re endangering people by leaving those buildings unoccupied.”

Gray snorted in response. “You and I both know there aren’t actual threats to Kathor these days. Not like the ones that existed when those documents were first created. This contract once existed to secure the city. Now it exists to pad the coffers of House Brood. There’s no need for you to pretend otherwise. It’s just us here. No one’s going to put you on trial for your family’s history.” He shook his head. “Trust me, Theo, there was a great deal of discussion about this particular matter. The rumor was that you—and Ms. Monroe here—intended to run your house in your own way. You claimed you didn’t want to be the Broods of old.”

Theo offered a begrudging nod. “That remains true.”

“Well, that’s why I didn’t push the contract on you,” Gray explained. “I thought it was possible that you might not want to continue with it. Every single role in this document is technically an inherited title. Do you know what would happen if you decided to hand them back to Kathor?”

Theo frowned. “The other houses would eventually claim them.”

“Wrong,” Gray replied. “They would become government entities. Sure, the other houses might nudge me for appointments. Ask me for favors. But you’d be returning a number of wealth-creating industries to the benefit of the people. Not to one of the great houses.”

Theo leaned back in his chair. His eyes swung to Ren. She’d combed through the document, as well as a few adjacent resources. Everything in that contract was functionally acting as passive income for House Brood. It represented money that she’d always imagined was better in their capable hands than in the pockets of the other houses. More funding for their future efforts—though she hated to admit that if their present results were any indication, most of what they would do in the future would only benefit House Brood. There had been precious little time for active altruism so far.

“I could sign this,” Gray said. “Here and now. Or… you could go home and think about what you’d like to do. All of your workers are contractually covered for two more weeks. They’ll receive their wages as if they’re all performing their normal duties. If you decide all of this should stay in the hands of House Brood, I’ll sign the contract. But if you’d prefer these entities revert to the people?”

He shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care at all. As if he was not playing a song that he knew both Theo and Ren liked. While the viceroy had treated her like an afterthought at the start of the conversation, curiously he now fixed his attention on her. Almost like he knew that she was the one who could push something truly revolutionary into motion between the two of them.

“I want to see it in writing,” Ren said. “Stipulations on how each property would actually function, who would benefit, all of that.”

The viceroy nodded. “I’ll have my people create a draft. I obviously can’t make guarantees, but there’s not a lot of mystery about what would happen. It’s as I said.”

Theo looked unsettled. Instead of voicing any further concern, however, he tucked the folder back into his coat and nodded. “Put a meeting on the schedule. Exactly one week from now. And it’d be nice if you were punctual next time.”

That earned a surprised look from the viceroy, but Theo was already standing. Ren followed suit. She was learning a lot from watching him in these spaces. The difference between common defiance and polished authority. How power looked if you just changed the angle slightly, setting it just so in the light. Theo’s political ability had always felt natural to her. Something he’d been born with. But it was a skill, and skills could be taught. There was a lesson dangling over this moment. It was this: no matter what the viceroy pretended to be the case, Ren and Theo were the ones in this room who possessed true power .

House Brood was still very wealthy. Reduced by their attack last year, but still a massive influence that demanded attention. Out on the verandah, Ren started to speak. Theo silenced her with a quick hand motion. Of course, she thought. Eyes and ears. This was another lesson he’d been teaching her. On anyone else’s property, there was always a chance of being overheard. People who were hired specifically because they had a magical talent for eavesdropping. Overhead, she spied movement. A livestone monkey was scrambling across the nearest roofline. Definitely within earshot. A glance back showed the viceroy was still watching them through the window as well, in between glances down at the papers on his desk. Better to wait.

When they’d cleared the grounds, Theo nodded to her.

“What do you think?”

“I feel like he’s overpromising.”

“It’s possible. I can’t remember historical examples of the major houses losing control of an asset—and then that asset being handed back to the commoners.”

“Gods,” Ren said. “I’m pretty sure that term has fallen out of fashion, Theo.”

He winced. “Sorry. That was my father’s word. My grandfather used to call them peasants.”

Such a grim ancestry. She’d been learning this, too. Theo’s past had a natural way of bubbling into the present. Not his own sins, but the men who’d walked this world before him. Their cruelties had not died with them. Every time they reached into the past to undo the knots, they found themselves untying some vital part of the present House Brood. This issue was no exception.

“Is it bad that I want to say no?” Ren said. “The idea of losing all of those resources…”

“It would weaken us,” Theo agreed. “Substantially. And that would obviously limit what we can do against the other houses. They’re already standing against us. Even if it’s been subtle. All of these random issues are creeping forward. I feel like it’s intentional. They’re testing the boundaries. Poking at this contract or holding up this treaty to the light. It’s taking up so much of our time. You know, that was actually one of my father’s favorite strategies. Force your enemy to react . He’d always say, ‘Keep a man backpedaling, and he’ll never be able to hit you with all of his strength.’?”

“What a charming thing to teach a child.”

Theo snorted. “Now that you mention it, I was about six. Anyways. I’m not sure what the right answer is. The point of all that we’re doing is to return power to the proper hands. We want to reduce the influence of the great houses. Create more equal footing for all. What does it say about us, though, if when we finally have the chance to do that… we keep the power for ourselves?”

He shook his head. Clearly, this central question was bothering him. Ren realized it was bothering him more than her. She’d leaned so quickly into keeping the wealth in their hands. It made her insides squirm to think about how little she’d questioned her own thought.

“Are we just pretending to be different?” Theo asked, voicing Ren’s exact concerns. “Pretending that we’re benevolent, when really we’re the same as them? Or is keeping that much power a necessity for long-term success? I’m worried that if we let too much slip through our fingers, we might be too weak to make a difference.”

Ren said nothing. It didn’t make her feel good, but she knew what her decision would be. Keep the power . She didn’t trust the viceroy to keep his word. What person, with that much power and position, had ever made the right choice? All that influence would really return to the people of Kathor? She had her doubts. Still, the decision weighed heavily on her shoulders. This felt like an unmarked crossroads for the two of them.

“We don’t have to decide yet,” Ren pointed out. “You have a few days.”

“True,” Theo replied. “Come on. We have one more appointment.”

His words proved how exhausted she was; she couldn’t even remember what the final appointment was. Dutifully, she followed Theo through the Safe Harbor district. Past the library with the beautiful stained glass windows. Around the polite little market. Theo led her down a flight of stairs and into what looked like a back alley. Ren was surprised when Theo led her to an unmarked doorway.

“Here we are,” he announced.

The interior was delightfully nondescript. There was another door leading deeper within the building—but no other features at all. “Is this where you brought all your girlfriends over the years?”

He snorted. “I didn’t have any girlfriends. And there’s not actually an appointment. I’ve arranged this just for you.” He turned with a smile, looking painfully sincere. “I know we’ve been busy. None of this is how we imagined it would be. You’ve taken so much on your shoulders and without a single complaint. I just… I wanted you to know that I’ve noticed. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

Ren smiled in return. She did not point out that Theo’s father would still be alive—and thus he wouldn’t have to do any of this—if it were not for her. Instead, she watched as Theo shoved the interior door open. There was a rush of cool air. A narrow passage led deeper underground.

“I’ve booked you an archive room.”

That passage into the dark waited for her. Ren knew if she walked forward the tendrils of magic would appear in the air. A practice session. Theo had arranged a practice session for her.

“Only if you want to, of co—”

She cut his nervous backpedaling off with a hug. As a rule, Ren was not a hugger. This felt like a worthy exception. Theo had been so steady. All this time. And now he was throwing in a moment of pure thoughtfulness?

“Careful, Theo Brood. I might just fall in love with you.”

The most violent blush she’d ever seen flooded his cheeks. So intense that Ren felt embarrassed herself. The only way to silence the sudden hammering of her heart was to plunge into that waiting darkness. She felt the magic stir in the air around her. The way the tendrils whispered to life. Theo did not call after her. He made no embarrassing declarations of love. Instead, he closed the door and left her in peace.

A man who knows to leave me alone with my magic? Yes, please.