Chapter 32
Rumor
A tiny white mouse tap, tap, tapped across the tabletop. She paused, waiting for me to finish the page I was on. When I looked up, she smiled with two big teeth. “Good evening, Miss Rat. My father sent me to see if you needed anything?”
Riot let out a huff of laughter. He’d busied himself with a book of his own, still sitting far too close to me than was appropriate for me to concentrate. Meanwhile, Spade had moved to an armchair by the hearth in the seating area where he sipped his fourth drink and stared pensively into the fire.
Back to brooding.
Back to being as minimally helpful as possible.
Back to being cryptic and evasive.
“Hello, Star Anise. You can call me Rumor.” I shot a pointed look at Riot who smirked and pretended to be enthralled in his book. “These have been very enlightening. I am wondering though…” I tapped my fingers on the table. “Do you have any books about Asunder?”
Riot looked up from his book, no longer feigning reading. Spade glanced over his shoulder, suddenly more interested in me than the fire.
Star Anise clutched her little pink paws. “Oh my, well, I… I don’t… I think that’s a question for my dad. Please wait just a moment and I’ll go fetch him, Miss Rat.”
The little risible scurried off, her slim pink tail coiled behind her as she ran down the leg of the table and across the library floor.
Riot leaned on his elbow, his gaze not so subtly trailing down the buttons of my blouse. “There won’t be any books on that topic.”
“Why not? I know next to nothing about this… this person who rules the realm. Isn’t that odd to not know?”
“Perhaps that’s the way Asunder wants it.”
“You and Spade would know, right? You’ve met him?”
Riot glanced to Spade, who was suddenly listening with rapt attention. “We were…” Riot chose his words carefully, which was very out of character for him. “Chosen by Asunder to be lords over Willowspire.”
“Why were you two chosen?”
Riot’s lips formed a straight line as if he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Spade then answered. “Punishment.”
Surprise darted at me from his direction.
For once, the Blackthorne boys were being somewhat forthright with me, so far as I asked the correct questions, it seemed.
“You were appointed lords over Willowspire as punishment? And then what? When the coven rendered you castle-bound, you didn’t turn us over… but why? Why was this your punishment?”
The boys were silent.
For some reason, though, as they mostly evaded my prying gaze, I got the distinct feeling that their reluctance to answer certain questions wasn’t wholly intentional.
They seemed restrained, as if they were holding back unwillingly.
Either out of duty or out of protection…
or maybe something else entirely kept their answers at bay.
I remembered their midnight curse, the cages their daimons were locked in down in the basement.
Somehow, I’d lifted that particular curse, yet I had no idea how I did so.
Maybe I’d thought that curse, the spell that bound them to the castle, and the curse that turned them to caged daimons at midnight were the same, or rather the only hexes following the Blackthorne Boys.
Maybe I had been wrong about that, too. It seemed lately, the more I thought I knew, the more I learned, the more I found I didn’t have a clue about anything.
Testing a theory that was worming its way through my mind, I rephrased my question, deciding to take it in a different direction.
It was a risk, yet, they both seemed apt to give me information, even behind their tight lips.
They were in the library with me all afternoon and into the evening.
Neither of them had left. They’d answered my questions as they could. Something in them did want to help me.
Though it was the missing something that held them back, or even prevented them from expounding, that caused me pause… and also elicited great intrigue within me. My magic buzzed over my skin in curiosity.
“Do you two still have a midnight appointment each evening?” I already knew the answer, but I was trying something different.
Riot’s eyebrows lifted, possibly noticing what I was doing. “We do not any longer. That means my bed is available for you to keep me company every night, by the way.”
“Pig.” I rolled my eyes. “Twenty mentioned that you guys aren’t all blood related, but you consider yourselves brothers. Did you grow up together?”
Spade swirled his glass. “We did indeed.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“Far from here,” Spade answered plainly.
Okay, that wasn’t working. It was time for a new tactic.
Just then, Wormwood scampered up onto the table, followed his daughter, Star Anise. “Hello, Miss Rat. It has come to my attention that you seek a title on Asunder. Unfortunately, we do not have any, and it is forbidden to even share information on the topic.”
That piqued my attention. “Do you know why it’s forbidden?”
Wormwood stroked his little fuzzy chin. “There are rules that act as the opposing wards, of course, as stated in the book, ‘Equal and Opposite Magics, Curses, and Spellcraft.’” If you did happen upon knowledge of Asunder, you’d soon find yourself forgetting it, or the facts muddling in your mind.
Quite complicated and intricate spell work to enact on such a grand scale as to compel an entire realm. ”
“So, Asunder wishes to remain a mystery. An elusive man.”
“If Asunder is even a man at all.” Wormwood shrugs. “The Blackthornes cannot speak of this matter, however, as risibles, we share knowledge. It is who we are and the makeup of our essences. The opposing wards do not work on us.”
“Really?” I asked, looking to Riot and Spade for confirmation. “Is that why you brought me here?” I asked Riot. “Is that why you both linger here with me now?”
The boys remained silent.
“Fascinating,” I mused. “Okay, Wormwood, I’m going to ask you some things, if that’s alright?”
“Of course, Miss Rat. Risibles live to educate and protect the passing of wisdom from literary text.”
“How can I kill Asunder?”
Riot burst out laughing.
Spade choked on his drink.
“Goddess.” Riot slapped his knee. “You really are something, Rumor Malefic.”
Spade walked over, sitting down his drink. “You’re lucky we’re in the library where no magic can hear us.” The eldest Blackthorne shook his head. “Don’t even attempt to answer that one, Wormwood.”
“Well…” I crossed my arms. “Why is this tyrant permitted to outlaw magic, steal away magic users, command withers, and remain elusive? Does Asunder think they are some sort of forbidden secret?”
Spade lifted a shoulder. “They sure would like to be, yes.”
“I read in the Underworld book that Asunder reigns over it and several other realms. Is that correct, Wormwood?”
“Yes, it is,” the studious mouse answered.
“Then”—I pulled out the monster book—“in this one about withers, I mean, archdemons, it said that oftentimes powerful wizards, witches, lords, or devils seek out strong souls to do their bidding. The most sought-after souls are the most talented or best magic users. Is that right?”
Wormwood nodded. “You really dove into your studies. I am impressed with all you’ve gathered.”
“Is that how you two and Twenty fell into the mix with Asunder?” I looked between Riot and Spade. “Were you so powerful you were forced to… I don’t know.” I slammed a book shut and tossed onto the table.
Riot held my knee, looking over at me with silvery eyes. “You’re on the right track, Rat. Don’t give up.”
Spade gave his brother a pointed look, but Riot’s encouragement was all I needed.
“You were utilized by Asunder for one reason or the other. You did something wrong and were sent here to be lords and caged daimons,” I said definitively.
“I can imagine your gifts of crossing realms could prove useful to any being who wanted to use them for good or evil.”
Spade tilted his head in some sort of hint of acknowledgment.
“If my sister, and Vore, for that matter, are in the Underworld, it’s certain that Asunder will want to control them.”
Wormwood piped up. “I believe the Blackthorne Lords have it from here. Let me know if you need anything else.” The risible squeaked and scurried back to his shelves.
I stood, putting my palms on the table and leaning forward. “Yes, Lords, I believe you do.”
“I, for one, am befuddled at what you could want from us.” Riot raised a salacious eyebrow. “Well, aside from the obvious, which, by the way, I am eager to give.”
Spade scoffed and took a seat, crossing his arms across his big, burly chest. “She wants our help in getting her sister back from the Underworld.”
“That’s part of what I want,” I agreed. “Of what I’m going to do.”
“Oh?” Spade arched a dark brow. “Please, regale us with your next foolish plan.”
“I want to bring back both Prism and… Vore.”
The room went silent for a moment. It seemed that even the fire paused its crackling to listen in. Riot glanced at Spade with a concerted look as Spade narrowed his gaze at me. “I had the foolish part right.”
“You and Vore have a history, I get it.” I gestured to the scar across his eye. “But he’s my sister’s—”
Riot interrupted. “You killed him, remember?”
“Yes, I was there, thanks for that, Riot. It was a mistake,” I admitted in spite of my pride. “It was a mistake.”
“The wither took your sister. Stole her on the day of her wedding rite. You sought to defeat him and you did. Now, you regret that?” Spade seemed to be working it through his own mind.
I nodded. “That’s the way of it, yes. When I jumped into Wraith, the red wither’s thoughts, I don’t know… and then when I spoke to Vore through the scrying stone… I believe I have to admit that they weren’t what I thought they were.”
“Did you ever consider,” Spade said lowly, “that the monsters who captured your sister, and countless other women, are quite proficient at manipulating and seducing ignorant and naive maidens?”