Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
It felt like walking through tar, like the very air itself was thickening to prevent her next step. Lia pushed through, gritting her teeth against the screeching that filled her head. The ringing that reverberated in her skull—until it all stopped.
The hand that gripped Lia’s squeezed.
Lia took a ragged breath as her companion looked cautiously about the destroyed bedroom, holding Lia’s clammy hand as they finished stepping through the portal.
The sudden quiet was too loud. Too familiar to that snowy wood, despite the traffic that blared down the street.
The Emperium’s light faded behind them. Even with the sunlight streaming through the window, Lia over-analyzed every shadow.
She hadn’t been in here since last night.
The bruised muscles in her back were taunt, pulled so tight she was surprised they hadn’t snapped over her spine.
She blinked hard as the room swayed, vertigo overwhelming her senses.
Bringing a guardian to earth was far more draining than bringing Kayce.
After several slow inhales, Lia’s vision stopped swimming.
“This feels so wrong. I really shouldn’t be here,” Fee reminded her once more. She smoothed the invisible wrinkles of her designer blouse, which melted to transform into a simple white tee, denim coveralls forming into place.
But Lia couldn’t think, couldn’t see anything but the monster bearing down on her, her thigh aching—
Words tumbled free of her chapped lips with a deep exhale.
“I have these unique powers that no Flameheart can really teach me to use. I was chased into reality by a nightmare claiming to be Malum’s child, singing about how his daddy wants me for some reason before biting a chunk out of my leg—while also claiming that what the Order says about the Devourer isn’t quite true, that he doesn’t want to destroy but to enslave everything.
My mom is holding more secrets from me, staying all cryptic and won’t tell me why.
Meanwhile, Kayce keeps spilling secrets and yet won’t look me in the eye.
And it’s not like I can tell Suzy-Ann from my favorite coffee shop about my problems! ”
The room was still. Lia took another breath.
“So, no. You being here isn’t at the top of my list. In fact, as my mom suggested, you’re the only one who can really help me with the first one.
Therefore”—Lia waved to where the portal had disappeared, then back to the shambles around them—“here we are. Can you use a dustpan?”
Fee stared at Lia a moment before closing the distance between them and enveloping her in a tight hug.
Lia stiffened at first with a hiss, bruises throbbing, but the longer Fee held on to her, the more she relaxed into the embrace.
After verbally vomiting all over someone, a hug was expected.
She could take the comfort—but she couldn’t let her walls crumble. She had to be stronger.
Lia exhaled deeply, allowing herself to lean into Fee just enough for the waters to recede and pull the tension from her body like sand to the depths. To have a friend to confide in, it kept the tide at bay. Blink by blink, brick by brick, Lia refortified the walls inside her.
Pulling away with concern giving way to a wry smile, Fee snapped the straps of her coveralls. “I wouldn’t have swapped for these if I couldn’t.”
The pure selflessness of Fee’s attire loosened the knot in Lia’s throat—especially when she didn’t push further on Lia’s tirade.
It was enough vomiting for one afternoon.
When she had awoken that morning to a text from her mom about work and getting Marcus to school, she hadn’t minded the quiet house.
Fiore had been curled into her side, the feline unscathed.
But that relief had been short-lived, the clock’s ticking in the hall too loud, the toaster popping burnt waffles bringing a scream that itched her throat.
She had wanted Kayce.
But he had been so off lately, not to mention she was still a little pissed at him.
Her mom’s mention of the guardian was appreciated.
Besides, having someone so outside of her problems was refreshing.
Figuring that Fee could deduce something Lia had missed, she told her everything as they set about cleaning her bedroom.
What her and Kayce discovered about the Initiis.
Her mom’s suspicions about a Flameheart gone dark and Papa’s murder.
Her powers, from the gremlin to now. Then of course, the nightshriek—a name invented by Marcus to make the creature feel less ominous.
Clearing the lump in her throat, Lia straightened a pile of books she’d stacked. “Do you think the Order needs to know about the Transcription?”
“They already do,” Fee said as she swept sheetrock dust into a pile.
“From what I’ve been told, Flamehearts in the vicinity feel something like a knot loosening in the chest each time a creation is sent back.
It was a defense mechanism, back when creations ran rampant and Flamehearts needed help from others nearby. ”
“Would they know it was me?” Lia asked, thinking of the gremlin as well.
“Likely not. But they will suspect, given everything with creations in this area involves you.” Lia glared at Fee, the guardian’s bluntness chipping at the meager mask she’d thrown on. Fee arched a silver brow. “It’s basic probability, Lia. Not much to like about it, but it’s the truth.”
Speaking of truth, Mom had probably told Leo.
The thought turned Lia’s stomach. She didn’t know who to trust, even if Mom did.
Lia busied herself with straightening the stack so the spines aligned.
Again. “If we’re talking ‘truth’, what about the Flameheart helping the Seekers? Do you have any guesses on who it is?”
“The Flameheart responsible for your papa’s death is no friend to guardians, that much I can say.
” Fee’s tone had shifted. It wasn’t the glittering dryness of her laughter and or the cold ferocity of her truths.
It was the intense burning in stars—and the darkness between them.
Even the stars in her eyes guttered, eclipsed before flaring once more.
“But I don’t know any of this chapter’s Flamehearts personally enough to guess. ”
It registered for Lia then how much she didn’t want to get on a guardian’s bad side. Thank the skies and seas this anger was in response to Papa’s murder. A powerful ally, even with her small stature. Not that she would even ridicule Fee for that—at least not now.
“Papa hid everything because he didn’t know who to trust in his own secret society,” Lia grumbled, starting a new stack of paperbacks.
“Yeah, there’s only six of them here, but what about the whole Order?
Maybe it was someone he crossed paths with in another chapter, set in another country.
Skies, it could be another guardian gone bad—”
“Breathe, Lia. Mere speculations aren’t going to avail an answer.” Fee set the broom aside, reaching for Lia’s arm. “You need to give yourself a break. You keep trying to tackle all of this by yourself. Take a step back and let others help you.”
Shame burned Lia’s cheeks, but it was like her tongue had a mind of its own. Her conflicting emotions were eroding the wall she’d only just repaired.
The desire to figure things out with Kayce.
The need to watch out for her family.
The fear of knowing Malum’s creatures marked her.
The frustration at the lack of justice for her papa.
And the last mirrored in her mom’s face last night, the lines at her eyes deeper than they had been a month ago. Lia couldn’t afford to take a break.
Huffing a sigh, Lia strode to an upended box, the one she had brought from her papa’s attic.
Papers and drawings scattered over the floor, and she hid her frustrations by collecting the papers to be returned to their rightful home.
She wasn’t even seeing what was on them until a sticky note with painfully familiar handwriting snagged her attention.
It wasn’t much. It was only a sentence. But it was enough. Because it was for her.
Lia’s throat tightened. The note trembled in her grip—and hardly made much sense at all.
It filled her with equal parts elation and dismay. This was a clue. But what in skies and seas did it mean? She rifled through the rest of the papers, hunting through the crayon drawings and regressions of handwriting from her youth for what the note had been stuck to.
A page of printer paper, still crisp, was at the bottom. She had never seen it before. It was a photocopy of the vellum page Adrian had shown her and Kayce. So much for a “dead end”.
Papa had set this aside for her. The note proved it.
Only he ever called her “little lion”. He wanted her to see he knew the Initiis was at play.
That its pieces were no longer scattered to unknown corners of the Emperium.
Lia stared at the note. Walking through fire.
It might have something to do with being a Flameheart. But what? It didn’t make any sense.
But here was proof. She had no idea how it got there, what it all meant. And it was likely no coincidence that the imagination story had come from this box as well.
Fee frowned as Lia handed the paper over to her, eyes roving over the Latin words. “This is about the Initiis. Didn’t you say that you and Kayce discussed this with Adrian?”
Lia nodded. “Yeah, as a theory, but I packed this from Papa’s attic during the funeral. It was with my old Norenth stuff.” She had completely forgotten about it in the midst of everything.
Stupid, this should have been the first place you looked. How much time would you have saved? Wasted, precious time wasted—
“I didn’t think this was real,” Fee interrupted Lia’s relentless self-talk. “I’m relatively young by guardian standards. No one talks about it, or the First Rift. Too taboo.”
“Think it’s something worth killing over?” Lia dared to ask.
Fee perched on the bed, gazing at the paper with a studious eye. “It may indeed be part of it. If half of what it says about the Initiis is true and your grandfather found the location of a piece, then yes. It’s motivation for murder.”
Lia took the page back. “Papa’s attic may be where he hid everything. Kayce and I suspected as much before…”
It’s too much.
Lia squashed the tiny, pathetic piece of her. She didn’t need those loathsome thoughts, not right now. Not when she felt she stood on the precipice of figuring this all out.
As the text said, perhaps this truly was part of how Malum consumed a sphere in the first place. More secrets, more stones to the mound of her papa’s grave.
Lia couldn’t dwell on that—not when she had a lead.
There were at least a dozen trunks full of paperwork that couldn’t fit in his office.
Norenth histories, character profiles, political mappings.
Not to mention some of Lia’s notebooks and art projects from grade school.
The box she had thrown together was only a fraction.
But what better place to hide information on a cosmic artifact than an old man’s packrat paradise?
“That’s a lot to go through,” Lia said. “Papa was old school, that’s for certain. But we need to get those trunks out of there until we can comb through everything. Whoever broke in last time could return, despite the additional security measures my mom installed.”
“Where would be safe?”
Lia chewed her lip, a pained look to her eye. “Could you ask Kayce if we could store them in the castle?” she asked. “It’s the only other place I would trust.”
Fee frowned. “Couldn’t you?”
Lia didn’t want Kayce to see her like this, limping and bruised. Not until she stopped jumping at every shadow. She already knew he would have a mouthful to say about it. Thankfully after a long look, Fee didn’t press.
Norenth was more fortified than anything. But Lia’s fear rose. If she brought sensitive material to Norenth, was she inviting trouble to their doorstep? Creepy owls, they could handle. No doubt Terranth would see them stuffed and mounted throughout Castle Finerda.
Gremlins, dragons, and nightmares were a different story.
Lia hated the risk, but she knew the boys would agree it was the best place.
Fee cocked her head, the clear beads at the ends of her braids clicking together.
“You know, those trunks aren’t light. It would be nice to have a few extra arms to haul those boxes back into Finerda.
I’ll get the Weatherstone boys to help us.
Besides, with everything that transpired, some handsome, muscular boys to ogle would be a nice distraction. ”
Lia’s neck heated. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“It pays to be honest.”
“You’re not getting paid at all.”
“Shame. We really need to set up an Emperium Workers Union.” Fee crossed her legs as demurely as though she wore a gown of fine silk. “Training exercise: bring the boys here.”
All four of them? Sure, Lia needed the help and it would be good for honing her abilities, but her mom would kill her. Though securing research that got Papa into this mess might take precedence.
“No one can know what I can do,” Lia warned. “They’re to stay inside the entire time. It would be too suspicious if any of the Order saw them walking about. The same goes for you.”
“Think you could get Terranth a pair of jeans?” Fee grinned as though the desert buffet had just opened their doors.
Lia’s exasperated groan turned into a full-bodied laugh. “An admirer indeed, hm?”
Fee shrugged, smile still in place.
Lia laughed again, the sound so light and airy, it was like the gentle lap of the sea against her toes. It tickled her, and as it receded, it drew some of the sand’s abrasive tension with it.
After being berated for her priorities, Fee made amends by helping Lia pack the rest of the box. A handyman had already been called to come fix the remaining damage. What he would make of the claw marks, Lia couldn’t guess. Only when Lia was alone did she pull Papa’s note out once more.
She read it over and over until it was engraved on her mind—burned in her heart.