Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
Olline was getting nervous, tiny prickles teasing her scalp.
They hadn’t taken a single public access elevator. Casimir hadn’t led her toward any of the monorail stations that snaked up and down and through the city. He hadn’t shown her to any late-night bistros. All things she would have assumed would be a top priority for her to know, that would be safe places to take a recent transplant. They were low hanging fruit in terms of locales for him to show her so she could get her bearings of where to go, where to avoid, and was the quickest way for him to “apologize” and then be done with her.
Instead, Casimir hailed a sky-cab as soon as they were clear of the Government Plaza, punched the coordinates into the automated driver, and then settled in directly across from her, grinning faintly as she squirmed. She wanted to ask him a million questions. Wanted to know more about what he did for Etzel Straub, if they were headed to one of his brother’s pleasure clubs—because if they were, she would tell him abso-fucking-lutely not—or more about Casimir himself.
He seemed so effortlessly charming and confident. She was sure he knew how beautiful he was and that helped, but she was curious how someone like him became so comfortable in their own dangerous allure. Didn’t it get exhausting?
The continued silence was clearly making her paranoid, a slight shiver tickling her spine and shoulders.
She could take it no longer and blurted out, only a faint tremor to her voice, “You’re a seerani, aren’t you? But not a caster?” Smooth, Olline. You know better than anyone not to ask something like that. She tried to hide her flinch of embarrassment by smiling at him as innocently as she could manage.
Casimir huffed. “Barely. I had a seersha grandparent. It’s been humani ever since, though.” His eyes slid to the window, that shadow of sadness creeping in over some memory before he pushed it away. “I assume none were casters, as I don’t have a lick of magic. But I never met them, so I can’t know for sure.”
She couldn’t stop her face from morphing into an aghast expression, her heart clenching in grief. “I’m sorry. I lost my mother about fifteen years ago. I understand what a loss like that can feel like.”
He looked at her askance for a moment, then gave a flippant wave. “You can’t mourn what you never knew you had, Olline. Don’t pity me. Kullen raised me just fine, until—” He bit off his words, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. But the look vanished so quickly, a mask slipping off, or falling into place? She couldn’t tell. Yet. But that coy smirk returned all the same.
“Until he didn’t need to raise me anymore. Would have been nice to have power like yours, though.” He gave her a wink and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Now, usually the follow up to that is my age, with how long seersha lifespans can be and what not.” Olline flinched again and he chuckled, his eyes twinkling, unbothered. “It’s the natural curiosity you humani have toward seersha and seerani. I stopped being precious about the questions a long time ago. The outrage was too exhausting. So, let’s get it out of the way, hmm? I’m a hundred-and fifty-six-years young. Beyond my good looks, that’s the only gift my lineage has given me.”
Now it was Olline’s turn to swallow. He was over a century older than her. She wasn’t young at forty-eight, not by humani standards anyway, but there was a certain power that came with age. She wondered if that was what she sensed about Casimir. “No, I meant merely because my half-brothers are seerani, too. They don’t have magic, either.”
Casimir huffed, but his eyes danced with humor. “That must gall them.”
Olline shrugged, tugging at her fingers. “Not really. They care more about the fact that I’m closer to our dad, him being humani and all. The magic would be nice, but they’d rather look like my dad’s kids. They both have horns, like their mom. It’s really stunning, but it gets annoying for them to explain to people that, yes, that’s in fact their father they’re helping to the public transit depot.”
“What a beautifully mundane problem to have,” Casimir grumbled, but there was a faint look of yearning darkening his gaze. She didn’t have time to be offended on her brother’s behalf for the glib remark before Casimir was flitting to another topic.
“Ah,” Casimir said, leaning back as the sky-cab slowed and came to a stop on the roof of one of the elite apartment complexes in the center of Antal. “Here we are.” He pushed the door up, helped her out of the aerial vehicle, and stepped away before she could marvel at the soapstone feel of his soft, firm hands again.
She hesitated, looking around the aerial pathway that led to adjacent rooftops. It made a type of promenade platform exclusive to the rich and famous who dwelled on the top floors of these mega-skytowers. The sense of otherness crawled over her. Her anxiety became a roiling thing within her; unseen judgmental eyes piercing her, telling her this was the last place she should be. So why would Casimir bring her here?
The view was stunning, though.
The neon of the floating advertisements below reflected in the mirrored windows, and the inky indigo sky left her lightheaded. Like she could fall into a paradise of stars. So transfixed by the view, Olline didn’t notice she had inched toward the protective plexi-glass barrier at the edge of the platform, or that the sky-cab had flown off, merging with the aerial traffic heading back into the major traffic lanes.
A gentle, warm hand was on the small of her back, not grasping, but soft enough to let her know it was there. “Careful, Tav. It’d be a shame to lose you so soon.” Casimir’s breath tickled the shell of her ear, the smell of him curling around her and encouraging her to lean into his chest.
Don’t be ridiculous.
Olline moved away from his hand and the edge of the platform. She looked around the rooftop, avoiding his gaze. “Where are we? Do you live here?”
Casimir moved to her side, huffing in a way that was almost a snort. “Fuck no. I may be arrogant, but I’m not so entitled that I want my nose this high in the air.” He glanced at her, at the wonder slowly bleeding from her expression, and his smile softened, almost . . . apologetic. The smug grin was gone, but he seemed to catch himself all too soon. He winked at her and gestured with his chin toward a glass dome on top of the building. “That’s what I want to show you.”
She kept her steps as light as possible, worried someone beneath would hear her. “Are we . . . allowed to be here?” she whispered, though there was no need. The sound of traffic and whistling wind between the buildings would keep anyone from hearing her words.
He laughed, looking over his shoulder with a devilish glint in his eyes. “Of course not. But I know people, shall we say? We’re perfectly fine. Besides, the people who do have access to this place during the day won’t appreciate it the way you, a bonafide earth caster, will.”
A heaviness began settling over her body, her heart shrinking in her chest. She tried to hide her wince by rolling her eyes. Olline had a hunch about where Casimir had brought her. The location wasn’t what disappointed her, but the why . At least, if she was right. “And how could you possibly know that?”
“Trust me,” Casimir said, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous joy as he crouched in front of the door leading inside the dome.
Confusion washed over her, and she blinked, wondering why he was crouched. It wasn’t until the door clicked open that she realized he had picked the lock. With his actual fingers. Who did that anymore? Every lock was digitized these days. Mechanical tumblers were terribly outdated in a world with casters. But Casimir had managed it, somehow. She didn’t know if she should be impressed or horrified.
“What the fuck, Casimir,” she hissed, pulling him away from the door. “You’re going to get us arrested!” Then curiosity got the better of her and she crouched, peering at the lock. “How did you even do that?”
“You’re precious when you’re worried. Do you know that?” She glared at him over her shoulder, and he had the audacity to smile back. “Relax, I broke the lock the old-fashioned way. No digital alarms were triggered. And if something were to happen, I told you, I know people. We’re fine.”
She wasn’t ready to stop glaring at him yet. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Yes. But not in decades. At least, not here . You’ll forgive me when you see where I’ve brought you. You, Olline Tavos, will appreciate this far better than the petty celebrities below your darling little feet.”
Olline didn’t budge, but he gently reached a hand out to her, giving her every opportunity to refuse. When she didn’t, he gently tugged her inside, and she lost her breath completely, before that heaviness pressed down on her body a little more. Olline’s hunch had been correct.
Vined, soft pink roses climbed the walls and beautiful, lush, green shrubs were all around her. In the center of the atrium was a jade green pool with massive lily pads gently swaying from a trickling fountain at the far side of the pond. Steam rose and curled off the water, making the leaves of the vines and the tall, thin shoots of young trees glisten with moisture. The entire room smelled like damp, freshly turned soil that Olline normally would find completely intoxicating.
Casimir had brought her to a rooftop botanical garden. Because she was an earth caster. It was a low hanging fruit location, no doubt, just not the kind she had hoped for.
Most people always assumed that earth casters wanted to spend time in gardens. True, it wasn’t a bad assumption. Olline had mentioned that plants were a hobby of hers, after all. But this wasn’t a place Olline could come back to, a place that would make her feel connected to Antal. This wasn’t even the real Antal. She had hoped he would take her to his favorite haunts. Not places that, while breathtaking, told her nothing of this mysterious man and the city he so effortlessly traversed.
She took several deep, grounding breaths, letting the disappointment flow out of her with each slow exhalation. Olline shouldn’t be disappointed that Casimir would bring her here. He didn’t know her beyond the superficial.
I have no business getting close to a man like him. Casimir calling me “Tav” isn’t because he sees me. He’s just being a shameless flirt.
With that in mind, she tentatively reached out toward a massive emerald frond and rubbed the silky texture of the leaf between her fingers. A warmth, not unfamiliar to her, tickled her as the frond arched into her touch.
Oh, hello there.
The garden wasn’t a product of her magic, but it originated from someone else’s. The grounds keeper here was clearly an earth caster; their magic hummed within every leaf and vine, every delicate pink petal, every scratchy spiral of tree bark. Their magic twisted and curled along her own like a long-lost friend.
She giggled as more and more of the plants arched toward her, and she let a bit of her magic ebb out, feeding into their roots. Apparently, she was the stronger caster, if the flora’s reaction was any indication. The leaves rustled in unison, creating a hum throughout the atrium. She smiled so wide, she thought her face would crack in half. “Looks like I’ve made new friends,” she said, letting a few of the softer vines wind around her calves, getting the feel of her before slithering away.
Casimir’s eyes were soft as he looked at her, his breath hitching slightly. Olline wondered what he saw when he looked at her like that. Casimir didn’t give her the chance to formulate her words before he silently pointed up.
Her eyes snaked up the grey walls of the greenhouse, dancing along every vine and rosebud along the way, until she was staring at the ceiling. From outside, it had appeared as no more than a plexi-glass dome. But inside . . . Olline’s breath caught and she couldn’t stop the little gasp from coming out as she lifted her hands to her mouth.
Stars. Thousands and thousands of stars twinkled above her.
Casimir moved to stand at her side, his hands buried once more in his long coat. “A very clever water and air caster came together to help make the glass,” he explained, his voice a gentle whisper. “It dispels the pollution—light and otherwise—until all that’s left is what should’ve been there all along. A crisp, clear night sky. This is what the people below will never see, why this whole botanical garden is wasted on them. They don’t care for stars. They don’t appreciate the life here. Not like you.”
He wasn’t wrong, her initial disappointment a distant memory. She was too full of wonder to make a sarcastic comment, trying to claim otherwise.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled. “Ah, so you forgive me for breaking in then, my precious little caster?”
She whacked him good-naturedly in the stomach, trying not to notice how hard his abdomen was. He merely laughed. “Come on,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his own. “Tell me what you, a hobby botanist and earth caster, see here.”
Without thinking, she grabbed his hand. Pulling him deeper into the garden, she explained how the earth caster enriched the soil in one area in order to get the thin trees to grow as high as they did, and how they had to make the soil harsher for another plant that flourished best in dryer conditions. If Casimir found her explanations boring, or her rambling obnoxious, he gave no sign. He didn’t ask many questions, but those he did showed he was at least listening to the explanations she was giving.
She named each type of bush, gave her theory why they used the feathery ferns to line the walls where the roses didn’t grow—to keep people back while also encouraging them to trail their fingers over the tips, which she demonstrated—before taking him back to the pond at the center of the atrium.
“Oh, look!” Olline fell to her knees, tugging Casimir down with her. “See that?” She pointed to the lily pads. “They cheated to get them to float! The caster put a floating pad underneath. It’s clever, but it’s not how I’d have done it. They just needed to—what?”
Casimir was watching her with intense focus, and yet his expression was soft. There was no mischievous glint to his eye, no patronizing smile. He was looking at her like everything she was explaining was the real magic, not the tiny miracle that was tied to another’s talent.
Right, he’s impressed by the magic. Don’t be silly, Olline.
He blinked slowly at her, and gave his head a little shake, tussling his silvered curls, seeming to catch himself. “You’re just so passionate about this. It’s . . .”
“Silly?” she offered. Olline meant it as a joke, but there was a tad too much bite to her words.
His eyes hardened. “No. Nothing you’re passionate about is trivial and anyone who says otherwise is a bastard.” He cleared his throat, his eyes losing the anger she saw briefly flash within. “I’m not used to being around that kind of passion. The sheer joy that something like this,” he said, gesturing at the greenhouse, “could provide. It’s been a century, at least since I’ve felt that for myself. It’s refreshing. So, thank you for sharing that with me .”
Olline’s cheeks burned, but she waved the compliment off. “This sort of thing is a hobby of mine, remember? I love growing plants. Seriously, you should see my apartment sometime. It could give this garden a run for its money.”
His smile was slow and roguish, his eyes half lidded, and Olline finally realized what she said. “Not that I’m inviting you to my place,” Olline sputtered, leaning back from the pond. “Not that I’m not, not inviting you. Someday. But not like that,” she stammered, trying to dig herself out of a hole.
But instead of laughing at her, Casimir simply sighed, his expression sobering. It was then that she realized, if she invited him to her place, for exactly that purpose, Casimir would have said yes. Olline wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that yet.
“Oh, Olline,” he whispered, and the way he said her name tickled down her spine like ice water. It was so . . . sad. Too sad, given where they were and what they were talking about.
She blinked at him, holding her breath as Casimir said, “I’m sorry. But you’re too precious not to know the truth about what your contract with the Police and Securities Department truly entails.”