17. Chace #2
Why was the citadel magically fortified and trapped?
Who smuggled one of the monster-morphed citizens to Ubel and why?
What was Uncle Mortifier after? Why was Aoes still in the citadel if he was able to come and go as he pleased?
What were the specters, and where did they come from?
Why did they affect the people the way that they did, and how had Winter chased them away?
And now, who was the one hiding in the shadows, appearing to direct the zombified citizens in Raven’s direction? I might have already known the answer to that question if I hadn’t allowed them to escape when my attention had jumped to Raven upon her shriek and fall.
With a heavy sigh, I swallowed a too-big swig of ale and shifted my body away from Winter and Raven’s interaction.
I didn’t trust any of them. Not Aoes, definitely not Winter, and not even Raven…as a Gunn and a mess-up. A distraction in countless ways.
Still, I wanted to trust her on a level I couldn’t comprehend.
I studied the journal my mother had forced upon me at the train station as I consumed my supper in silence. Raven, Aoes, and Winter sat at a different table and conversed. They spoke about games and commonalities as if they were age-old friends.
The social interaction was the most I had witnessed Raven engage with the pair. They talked loudly and quickly and laughed often. And Winter found too many excuses to touch her, albeit lightly.
My glare tightened on each graze or nudge. Raven and Winter’s enjoyment, their friendliness, shouldn’t upset me, and yet heat fumed beneath my skin.
When they invited me to join in the dialog, I refused. My mind felt too heavy to partake in idle discussions. Plus, I might have punched Winter a second time.
Nevertheless, endless questions preoccupied me—those that had arisen since our arrival and the ones now spawned from the entries I’d read in the journal.
Countless entries filled the old journal, words scribbled by a family member I had never met. A Badden whose mother might have been a Gunn.
Oh, the scandal. Or, quite possibly, the source of the family feud.
But what did it mean for me, here and now? And why did my mother want me to know? Would any of the information help me sort out the secrets I suspected—no, knew—Ubel kept?
“Let me show you.” Winter’s words tugged my thoughts back to a position of observation.
Winter took Raven’s uninjured hand and opened her palm flat in his own.
He dipped his head a tad too close into her personal space with a smile as sugary as honey. “I’ve only seen this done a few times, so please don’t judge me too closely.”
Winter’s smile sickened me. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.
With a finger, the jerk slowly traced a long crease across her palm. “This is your lifeline.”
She shivered.
And my hand curled into a fist.
Winter moved slower than necessary, and I was no fool to what the scum was doing. If I were interested in her, I might have done the same.
But Raven was my coworker, and I needed her head in the task for this curse of a reap. And Winter… Well, he had become a concern with or without his flirtations.
Reaping hell, I reveled in the feeling of my fist connecting with his face.
“So very long.” Winter continued to run the tip of his finger along the line of Raven’s palm. “You just might live forever.”
His eyes shimmered with mischievous laughter, and Raven chortled.
The direction of his finger shifted. “And this…”
I raised my eyebrow and waited for his next words.
Winter jerked, ever so slightly, and scrutinized the maze of creases decorating her hand, his eyes widening. “Um…”
His silence pressed upon the group like a severed mountaintop.
“What?” Raven leaned closer to him, a soft giggle in her tone. “What do you see?”
Is her inflection born of flirtation or nerves? I couldn’t help but wonder.
Winter folded her hand into a loose clutch, cradled within his own. He raised her hand to his lips and gently placed a kiss upon her skin. “A fierce beauty. That’s what I see.”
Raven bit her lower lip, restricting her smile.
I rolled my eyes and averted my gaze. I didn’t place much credence in palm reading, but something in the lines of Raven’s palm had rattled Winter. Or concerned him enough to remain silent.
Raven had to have picked that fact up from his reaction. She had to have.
Winter sighed then stood and bowed his head. “Unfortunately, I’ve already stayed longer than ideal. I must return to my post. Until next time.”
He made his way to the exit.
What had he seen written in the lines of Raven’s palm that had him deviating from his philandering tactic and fleeing from the scene?
I couldn’t stop my incredulous scowl. “Your post calls at this late hour? Where do you work?”
“Winter works at the castle,” Aoes answered for him.
With a quick word of confirmation and a tilt of his head, Winter dipped out the door and disappeared into the night beyond. I stared after him, the word castle ringing in my ears.
Had the answer to reaching our quest been lingering in the pub beside us all this time?
“Charming and employed.” Raven’s words scratched at my delicately balanced temper.
Now she finds him charming?
All I found when I looked at Winter was the desire to break all the bones in the jerk’s hand.
But Raven wasn’t wrong about the employed bit. Winter might prove useful, after all.
We needed to get into the castle, but the streets leading to the massive structure created a frustrating puzzle. A hard to navigate maze, the route likely bewitched. And from what Aoes had told me, every palace entrance was well guarded.
Not to mention, every street we’d found that came remotely close had ended in a river of something thicker than flaming water, but more fluid than lava.
A possible product of magic. The river expanded to a lake, surrounding the center fortress and royal estate with a substance that would turn a person to ash faster than a body could burn.
Yes, we would have to investigate…and leverage…Winter’s newly discovered position at the castle.
After rising to my feet, I pushed my chair against the table, scratched my neck, and turned for the stairs. “I’m going to go clean up.”
And maybe take my damn pills. Because I’d been neglectful on that front. The hints of auras had begun to take form, and they too often gave me headaches.
No one within the citadel walls needed to know about my daily medication needs.
Chiara Badden, daughter of Njord Badden and Balsinde Gunn. A journal of her thoughts. Her ridiculous ramblings of love and yawn-worthy family matters. Why would my mother want me to read the reaper’s never-ending scribblings? What purpose could it serve?
I kept my mind focused on that why, lest my thoughts wander to Raven’s laugh and flushed cheeks. An expression for which another, not me, could claim responsibility.
I lowered my body beneath the bathwater and welcomed the mellow thrumming of sound deprivation. But even with silence all around me, my mind refused to still.
If I kept reading Chiara’s words, would I find a connection, however slight, to the situations I faced here in Veritas? Ubel had to be involved somehow. The presence of the flying monster in his lab, a clear testament to that fact.
I sat up and swiped the water from my hair. No answers yet existed. I had to keep reading, watching, and listening. Ever vigilant.
Raven’s and Aoes’s laughter in the pub below carried through the floorboards. The tenor of their mirth dragged at my already weighted mood. I dried off, tugged on my pants, and headed barefoot down the hall to check on Aldine.
We cared for our elder as best we could manage. A healer visited him multiple times a day, but I didn’t rely on the hearsay of others and liked to observe Aldine myself.
As I passed by Raven’s room, a tiny noise caught my attention. I paused, tilted my ear toward the door, then pressed against the wood. A soft tap, tap, tap, like a knock upon a mirror or glass, came from the other side.
My mind jumped to the figure I’d seen in the shadows. The one that directed the specter-infected citizens upon Raven. Had they intended to hurt her? Infect her? Something worse?
Was the person behind the assault now in Raven’s room, doing reaper knew what?
I threw open the door and stepped inside.
Into a dark and empty space with nothing amiss.
Except…
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A large black bird sat perched outside the window, pecking at the glass. A message clutched in its claw.
Raven had mail?
The raven gonked.
With a soft curse on my lips, I marched forward, opened the window, and grabbed the letter. Tore it open. Read it.
Bloody hell.
A soft gasp sounded at my back.