Chapter 76
Her eyes grow wide with horror. Her breaths quicken, chest rising and falling against her tight corset. She lets out a piercing scream.
Fuck.
I lunge. Not at her, but away. I vault over the veranda railing, already hearing stirring from inside. They’re going to be on me in seconds. Now is not the time to hold back.
The Page of Coins crashes into my chest; my fingers shimmer with gold as I race toward then reach for the outer wall. The Ace of Coins sparks, and the stone of the wall comes to life, jutting out, making a sort of ladder.
“Clara Graysword! She’s here! She killed my husband!”
There’s a surge of movement, and enforcers round the house right as I vault over the top of the wall.
I land hard, rolling, and then scramble back to my feet on the other side.
A narrow alleyway awaits ahead. This was planned.
Well, not the enforcers shouting in chorus with Alor as they begin to chase after me, but my getting away was calculated.
I am wishing I brought a Chariot with me, though.
Here I was, preserving the resources I have, thinking this little mission would be quick and tidy.
Now I’m cursing that there isn’t one in my deck.
In the alleyway, stashed by a rubbish bin, is a small satchel of clothes.
My fingers are already ripping off the hood of my cowl.
The Ace of Swords slices through the seams of my shirt.
The Five of Coins vanishes them as they fall, turning the fabric into an outline of gold that blinks out of existence before it can even touch the ground.
I’m in nothing but my smallclothes. But I don’t care.
No one is around, and I’d rather look crazy and move quickly than worry about my modesty.
In the satchel are a pair of plain trousers and a tunic.
I slide both on. They’re way too loose on me but designed to be that way.
Faster to get on. And a flick of my wrist has the Three of Coins tightening the seams, rendering them to a perfect fit with each hurried step away.
Footsteps pound the cobblestones behind me. Too close. I make a hard turn and head for River Park. There are fewer lamplights there, and it’s not uncommon for people to take nighttime strolls.
Enforcers shout, and I hear more running—too close for comfort.
I dash down another road. And then break free of the buildings, emerging into the trees of the park.
As soon as I do, I slow my pace, chest heaving.
Run, every instinct within me urges. But I don’t. That will make me look more suspicious.
A man emerges from a different alleyway. A card rises over my shoulder on instinct. But it falls back into my hand as the man’s magic spikes in the air with a force so sudden that it has me halting instantly. The magic is familiar in a somewhat sickening way.
I don’t put away the card as I slowly shift my feet, looking over my shoulder, halfway angling myself toward him. My gaze locks on a tall, imposing figure standing just at the edge of a lamp’s glow.
Lord Moreus Ventall.
His golden eyes gleam coldly in the dim light. Three cards are held in an outstretched hand like a threat, as if to match my own. A deck sits on his hip, not unlike how I wear mine on my thigh.
But there are no enforcers with him. No Stellis. It’s as though he ran off on his own—separate from them.
His eyes drop to the card in my hand and then look back to my face. His brow furrowing.
“Can I help you?” My voice is steady, but I wear a confused expression in an attempt to throw him off.
His lips curve in something that might be amusement, if his eyes weren’t so pained. “I know who you are.”
I don’t respond.
“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you?” He takes a slow step forward, leaving the nearest streetlamp’s glow and entering the veil of night. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize her face in yours last year? Just like I can recognize her style on your cards.”
My grip tightens on the card in my hand, but I say nothing.
“Yes…You can try to change how you ink, but I see your mother in the way you craft the borders, the chipped edges on your Swords and stars on your Cups. And you’ve spent all year teaching that style to your sister without even trying.
She so admires how you wield that she even mirrors your inking style. ”
A bitter, humorless laugh escapes before I can stop it. I straighten, forcing myself to meet his eyes without fear. “Are you going to kill me now, Father?”
He flinches as though I’ve attacked him. His face—so much like my original face—shifts through emotions. Regret? Resignation? I force myself not to care about whatever is lurking beneath those eyes.
“Do you really think I would harm you? When I have time and again spared your life?”
I let out a sharp laugh. The sound is raw and feels like broken glass in my throat. “Spare me? You drove us from our home. We lived on the streets—”
“Laylis left without a word! I tried to find you. All I wanted was for you and your sister and mother to live in comfort. Why do you think I gave her that townhome to spend her days in luxury? You would’ve all been safely hidden under Naethor’s nose.
No one would suspect that a home owned by High Lord Moreus Ventall would hold anything but law-abiding individuals. ” He takes another step forward.
I take a step back in equal measure; my magic simmers, ready to boil over. “It’s because of you that our mother died…after you did who knows what to her.”
“I loved her, and she loved me.” There’s no doubt or hesitation there. It’s the truth. Or at least the truth as far as he believes.
“She would’ve never loved the man hunting her—tasked with killing her.”
“Neither of us could believe it, either. But the heart has a wicked sense of humor. Perhaps something you might also know all too well.” He lowers his chin and gives me a knowing look, referencing Kaelis.
I inhale slowly through my nose and scowl.
“I never laid a hand on your mother in a manner that would bring her harm. Never touched her in any way without her permission—her asking. I certainly did not kill her.”
“But you stand by the woman who did!” The words rip from me before I can stop them. The rage I have only just cooled boils over once more. “You let her do it, and you remained with her after.”
“I only found out what she did recently, thanks to Alor. If you can believe it, she was the one to expose Helena’s actions, with Emilia’s help.
It was Emilia who came to me looking for the records, and I performed my own investigation.
” He slowly lowers his hands, placing the cards back in his deck.
“I spent years looking for you and Arina, and Laylis. Not knowing what happened to any of you. I spent years having people report to me on the Worldkeepers—keeping Naethor’s bloody, cursed hunt alive in the hopes it’d lead me to her or you. ”
“Stop.” I look away. I can’t handle this.
“And when I found you, you were beyond my protection in almost every way.” Almost…except for when he didn’t turn me in last year, or called off Ravin before he could beat me to a pulp.
“Don’t act like you love us.”
“You were two children born of love and adoration; of course I did.”
“All I have known of you is that you are selfish and cruel.” My eyes meet his again, and I shoot him daggers. “Even if you loved my mother—you damned her. It is because of you that my mother is dead, that my sister and I lived on the streets, and I will never forgive you for it.”
He staggers, deflating some. His wounded eyes are genuine and something I would’ve never otherwise expected. What could he have imagined? That we’d live as some messed-up happy family?
Moreus opens his mouth again, but he can’t find the words in time. Another figure comes running over, straying from a pack of Stellis that emerged from the alleyway I went down minutes ago.
Alor’s hair is a silver-blond streak, and she stops between us, breathless. “Father? Professor?”
I give Moreus a brief, hard stare.
“I thought I had a lead, but she must’ve got away,” Moreus says. He would be able to lie with ease, he’s had a lot of practice. “I was just asking the professor if she saw anything.”
“Did you?” Alor turns to me. A Stellis medal has been pinned to her breast just below a captain’s badge, honors she’s already trying her best to live up to.
“I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
Alor curses under her breath. “I should return to my squadron, then. I’ll explain what’s happened later, Professor.”
“Good luck, I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” I speak to Alor, but my eyes dart to Moreus. He’s smart enough to get the warning.
I have your daughter with me. Don’t challenge me. Liam should be a signal to all my enemies that I will do what I must to defend myself and those I love.
Moreus regards me warily as Alor leaves. We keep our eyes locked, the night breeze the only thing shared between us.
In me is the weight of a thousand things left unsaid. But any other words would result in blows, or tears, or screams.
“Father?” Alor calls from halfway to the Stellis she was rejoining.
“Your daughter is waiting for you,” I say coldly.
He gives a curt nod and turns, marching away. I take a step away, turning slowly because my gut tells me not to look away—not to turn my back on my enemy. A flash catches my eye, and I look back in full. I don’t see what card was cast. Moreus is now speaking hastily with Alor. My blood freezes.
She is walking toward me. No…stalking with predatory movements. Every muscle in me tenses. Danger.
“Alor,” he calls after her. Glancing over his shoulder to the Stellis behind him, he says something. But I can’t hear what it is. All I see is movement in my periphery. My focus is now on Alor.
She’s closed the distance quickly. Run, instinct howls. But I hold fast.
“One more question, Professor, if I may?” She pauses a few steps away from me. Nothing in her tone or stance betrays any malice. But Moreus is moving behind her. The Stellis are drawing closer.
“Of course.” I force my voice to remain light and easy, focusing on her and keeping everything else in my periphery. “You know I’m always happy to help.”
“Has that always been your face?”
“What?” The question hits me like an icy gust off the sea, and I suck in a breath.
“Or was it something different, Clara?” The moment she asks, she casts the Six of Cups. Cerulean magic envelops my head like a royal circlet. It tightens around me painlessly. It feels as though cool water is being poured across my mind.
I desperately scramble to redirect my thoughts. But the card is near instantaneous. It’s too late. Her accusation yanked Kaelis’s actions in the academy before the year began—carving my face—to the fore.
Memories flash across my eyes, and hers widen in tandem. She stares at me with horrified recognition. The spell ends in seconds, but what follows is the longest minute of my life. She finally sees through my immaculate disguise—finally sees me.
Moreus betrayed me. He told her what to do, and she did it. How else could Alor have known? He proved that any loyalty to me was nothing more than an ignorant, girlish wish.
“How could you?” she whispers, voice cracking.
Any response dies before it can escape my throat. Nothing I could say would appease her. It will never be enough for what I’ve done…and she proves why the moment she says, “You…you killed our sister.” Each syllable drips with anguish. With betrayal.
“I never wanted to.” True as it is, it sounds pathetic to say. I know there is no salvaging this.
A card rises from the deck at her biceps. I cast the Ten of Swords before I even know what it is and bolt.
Her scream echoes over the whole of Eclipse City, chasing me. “Stellis! Pursue her! Clara Graysword is here. Professor Sophie Veillgar is Clara Graysword!”