43. Hailon
Chapter 43
Hailon
R evalia was a beautiful city, flourishing with life of all kinds. I’d never seen the like and could understand why it was one of the most desirable places in all of Cyntere to live now that I was within its walls.
Lovette and Imogen walked me past the outskirts where all the big estates were, then through the center of town and square where the market was held midweek. There were shops of all kinds, a few of which reminded me of the little places we’d visited in the Valley.
“The carriage was otherwise engaged today, or it would have come to pick us up,” Imogen explained, watchful as we wandered the city streets. Every now and then, her eyes shifted to the sky, and if I was quick to follow her gaze, I’d catch a glimpse of another stone kin stealthily monitoring things from the rooftops.
“I don’t mind walking. It’s beautiful here.” Even from a distance the cathedral was beyond impressive, and what they pointed out as the observatory for d’Arcan was stunning just in sheer height.
By the time we reached the Collegium d’Arcan, I was overwhelmed. The city was so much larger than it had initially seemed, and there was an endless number of things to take in. The people, the noise, the vendors—it was all lovely, but I wasn’t used to the scale of such a city. It was very pleasant to not have to ignore others staring or sneering when I walked by, however.
The school itself was imposing in size but still somehow felt welcoming. As we went through the iron gates, I felt no sense of foreboding like I expected to, despite a large raven swooping near us as we entered the courtyard. The bird dipped down, like he was getting a good eyeful of us all, then he flew off again toward the main building.
The doors opened as we crossed the courtyard, and a beautiful woman with dark hair greeted us, a shockingly oversized cat winding between her ankles before trotting off to go roll in the grass.
“Welcome! I’m Calla.” She took my hand between hers, giving it a gentle shake.
“Hailon.”
“So lovely to meet you. Please, come in.” She hugged the two gargoyle women, gesturing for us to go down the main hall. “You’re just in time. Greta’s nearly done with a very complicated elixir. Grace is bringing us snacks.”
Calla led us down a wide stone hall and into a classroom that took my breath away. There were overflowing bookshelves and supply cases along the back wall, but it was the floor-to-ceiling stained-glass window that stole my attention. It made a rainbow of light in the room, more beautiful and muted than standard clear glass.
Instead of desks there were sofas and comfortable chairs near a stone fireplace, and several worktables spread through the room with a variety of tools and interesting items on their tops.
Seeing our entrance, two tall, broad men—one dark haired and one light—stood from their seats. Another woman looked up from behind a table with chemistry equipment spread across it at the back of the room, a kind smile on her face. Her hands, however, were occupied. My mind ticked the faces off as though I’d been keeping a list of who I’d expected to meet. Witch, demon, demon, alchemist. It stunned me how broad my acquaintance list had become since I’d gotten away from Ravenglen.
“Welcome to d’Arcan, Hailon,” Vassago greeted me, putting his hand across his chest and bowing.
“Thank you.”
“I’m Rylan,” the dark-haired brother said, a soft tilt to his mouth as he reached out to take my hand. He gave me a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. “Pleased to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” I said, nerves kicking in as the lone newcomer to this enthusiastic group. “Thank you for having me.”
“I’m Greta,” said the woman behind the worktable, raising her gloved hand in a wave after setting down a pair of tongs and a flask with swirling shimmery silver liquid inside.
“Hello.”
The gargoyle women traded greetings with everyone, and as I got my pack settled behind the nearest chair, a new woman with the energy of a hurricane flew into the room, arms full, what appeared to be an assistant right behind her.
“Welcome!” She was cheerful as she pumped my arm up and down once she’d set down her baskets. “I’m Grace. I run the kitchen here?—”
“And everything else,” Rylan grinned.
“If you need anything, you let me know.”
“Thank you, Grace.” Rylan smiled at her, and I could tell the appreciation between them was genuine.
“If you’re hungry, you’re in for a treat,” Lovette said. “Grace is a gifted cook.”
“I’ve been very fortunate where food is concerned lately,” I said, marveling at the selection as the contents of the baskets were set on the long coffee table between the sofa and the lounge chairs.
Rylan scanned the table. He picked up a plate and selected several things, his expression very pleased as he handed it off to Calla, then went back for his own.
“Can you join us, Dragonfly? Or should I bring you something over there?” Vassago asked.
“I’m coming,” Greta said, quickly stripping off her gloves and heavy apron. She brought over several small vials of the silver liquid, leaving them next to her cup.
My chest gave a hot thump, the bond reminding me it was still quite displeased with the distance between Seir and I.
“Please, help yourself, Hailon. We don’t stand on much formality around here, particularly with family,” Rylan said, gesturing widely with one hand. I met his eyes, golden like Seir’s, and felt the sincerity. He’d meant to say that, to include me. I wondered how odd it really was for people you just met to embrace you as one of their own. “Grace will be terribly disappointed if you don’t eat at least three times as much as you really care to. I’m afraid she’s gotten a little too used to preparing enough to feed Magnus, not to mention our students.” He must have seen something in my face, as he hastily added, “Classes are not in session just now. It’s just us here, for the time being.”
Imogen and Lovette had both enthusiastically joined in eating, so I followed their example.
“It is very nice to see you in person, I must say,” Vassago said. “That little mirror doesn’t do you justice.”
“Thank you.” My pulse sped up at the mention of the mirror. “Actually, we owe you an apology.”
“You do?” He paused, food halfway to his mouth. “Whatever for?”
“The mirror. I’m afraid it’s cracked.”
He barked a low chuckle. “I knew it. However did he manage it this time?”
“He had it in his pocket. I’m not sure what happened.”
Vassago frowned, and Rylan snorted in amusement. “Really?”
“Truly, it was either in his pocket, safely wrapped in one of our packs, or with me. It was fine when he taught me the words, and we spoke to you, obviously. The next time he got it out, it was cracked halfway through.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to make you both another. He’s got the worst luck with them, I swear it.”
“We also agreed it would be wise to give you these.” I pulled the strongbox out of my pack and opened it, retrieving the little vials and notebooks Dr. Lang had left behind.
Rylan’s eyes met mine for a moment as he reviewed the labels, then flipped through the notes. Vassago did the same, both of their wives just as interested.
“I’ll keep them somewhere safe,” he said, the edge of a growl in his tone. “I’m very sorry for what you went through, Hailon.”
“Thank you,” I said, unsure what else could be said.
“This doctor…” Vassago frowned, dropping the notebook he was looking at like it had burned him. “He’s dead?”
“Yes.” I envisioned Seir’s sword piercing Dr. Lang’s body.
“Good.”
“If you don’t mind, could I do some of my own testing on the samples?” Greta asked. “I wouldn’t need all of what’s here, just a little tiny bit. I want to see if I get the same results they did, if I can figure out what they thought they were collecting.” Vassago patted her knee in a loving way. I could tell she was genuinely curious, but unlike them her intentions were not self-motivated.
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and started picking up one vial at a time from the strongbox. Her hand stilled as she flipped over my mother’s letter. Her eyes met mine.
“I was actually hoping you could help with that too.”
Greta nodded and took out the letter, straightening the worn creases as she scanned the paper with her eyes. Her mouth tightened the further she read, and dread curled in my gut when she glanced at me several times before reading it again.
“It’s… Shall I just read it to you? We can go somewhere private, if you like.”
My pulse sounded too loud in my ears. “Is it bad? Or overly personal?”
Greta shook her head. “No, not bad. Not even personal aside from you being the subject of it. There’s no great revelations that I can tell, either. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I don’t mind.”
She glanced around, Vassago’s hand resting on her back in a gesture of support. Rylan dipped his chin at me encouragingly, a gentle lift to his lips. I’d always been independent. I’d never needed anyone else, not even Aunt Sal. But in that moment, I wanted Seir next to me more than anything in the world.
My darling Hailon,
I hope one day you can forgive us for having to make such an impossible choice. Your life is infinitely more valuable than either of ours, and we cannot selfishly continue to risk the worst by keeping you with us, as much as it kills us both to send you away. Sal has promised to care for you, and I know she’ll keep that promise. I know it will be difficult to see it, especially by the time you’re able to read this letter, but we love you more than anything else in this world. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Do not try to find us. Keep the little horse with you, it will always provide peace .
Greta looked up. “It’s signed with a sigil and a mark that means snow in fae. No names.”
I nodded, slowly digesting what she’d read. “That last part, it’s clever wording.”
“Oh?” Rylan asked.
“Yes, this necklace was hidden inside of the horse.” I reached into my pack and produced the two broken halves.
Vassago took them from me, both he and his brother curiously looking the little figure over.
“Why would they leave me a letter encoded in fae? I understand it would be meaningless to most if found, but there’s nothing in there that had to be so secret.”
Greta shook her head, empathy in her eyes. “I’m not sure, I’m sorry.”
I reached up and touched the necklace, the hum still present, but not enough to be irritating. To break the heavy silence, Lovette and Imogen helped me explain what we’d discovered with the necklace and dagger, that each was some kind of amplifier for one of the powers.
“Ophelia thought perhaps they needed to be recalibrated to Hailon specifically,” Lovette offered.
“Sounds logical.” Rylan nodded.
“I have some work to do with the dagger; the grip is not well suited,” Imogen said softly.
“And if you take off the necklace?” Vassago leaned forward, long white hair nearly brushing his thighs.
I glanced around nervously, every eye on me. The delicious fruit tart I’d eaten knotted in my stomach.
“Only for a moment,” Rylan encouraged.
I lifted the pendant away from my skin, the hum disappearing. As they reached for their magic and found nothing, the group all exchanged glances. Rylan looked at his hands, perplexed. Vassago and Calla just frowned.
“That’s a very strange feeling,” Rylan muttered. “Thank you.” The hum returned as I released the chain and the necklace touched my skin once again. Imogen described how the current inscription had been made and repeated the offer to find someone to make a duplicate. “I’m happy to help with the incantation,” he offered. “What is that ring?”
My chest squeezed. “Seir said he’s had that since shortly after he fell.”
The brothers exchanged a look. “And it’s with you because…?” Rylan plucked it from the box between his thumb and forefinger. In his grasp, it truly did look quite small.
“He snuck it in there before I banished him. He tried to make me choose one when we first bonded. This one drew my attention most from the several he showed me, but I told him rings could wait.”
Calla chirped a laugh.
“Sounds about right,” Rylan said with a grin. “Have you put it on?”
“No.”
“Shall we try?”
I hesitated as he held it out to me. “Is there something special about it?”
“Undoubtedly.” His words were cryptic, but his expression told me whatever he thought might happen wasn’t dangerous.
The band fit perfectly on my left ring finger and nowhere else. I flushed hot, cheeks burning as I settled it there.
“The hum is gone,” I blurted, unable to disguise my relief.
“Hum?” Greta asked.
“The necklace hums when I wear it. It’s low, a little annoying unless I’m trying to use my healing magic. Then it’s very irritating, like bugs are crawling under my skin.”
“May I see the necklace?”
“Take it off? But?—”
“Just for a moment,” he repeated, truly unbothered that without it I could be causing complete havoc anywhere my magic reached. “I need to see what I’m working with. We can be quick. And the dagger, as well.”
I did as he asked, hopeful that whatever was outside this place and within the range of my null ability wasn’t too negatively affected.
Imogen went to his side, their combined expertise assembling a plan of attack where the items were concerned. Vassago consulted as well, making suggestions that seemed mostly for aesthetic purposes before getting up to make us new mirrors. Lovette and Calla busied themselves by putting the remains of the food back in the baskets and taking all the dirty dishes down to the dining room.
A consensus reached about how to fix the obsidian items, I was given the necklace for the time being and put it back on as Calla and Lovette returned, talking animatedly. Hands gestured, bright laughs and unconstrained talk filled the room. The demon brothers were exchanging information about mirrors and stones and the best way to adjust an inscription on a polished rock that might be as old as time itself. Greta was examining the vials of her elixir, explaining to Imogen what she was looking for to ensure that it had cured properly.
It was chaos. Organized, beautiful chaos.
In that moment, I understood what Seir had meant about this family. My problems had been assumed as their own and were considered no less important than anything else they were already managing. They’d all considered my feelings at every step, and I knew to my bones would not hesitate to do what needed done, no matter what that might be.
I sat watching them interact around me, more grateful that I could express to have been given such a gift.
“Come back whenever you like,” Calla said, pulling me in for a hug as we prepared to leave the school grounds and walk back to Ophelia’s hut. “I meant it when I said there’s an apartment upstairs, ready for you. Just depends on when or if you’d like to stay here instead of with Ophelia.”
I could only nod, the generous offer equal parts tempting and overwhelming.
“We’ll coordinate a way to work on your stones so that everything is a bit easier for you,” Rylan assured me.
“Thank you all, very much.” I was still half in disbelief that their immense kindness was genuine. I’d never had more than Merry to occasionally lean on, let alone a whole clan of people who had no ulterior motives behind their helpfulness.
The gargoyles chatted amongst themselves as we strolled, both understanding without a word having been shared that I needed some time to process.
Night in Revalia evoked memories of Ravenglen by scent alone. The smell of cooking onions and spices floated out of apartment windows and hung on the air, florists peddling their wares from carts down the main streets during the rush to get home adding a layer to the scent.
“That’s the library,” Lovette gestured. “Calla loves to visit. Do you like to read?”
“Yes, well enough. We didn’t have many options for books where I’m from, but I always enjoy a good story. I read the few we had in the house cover to cover many times.”
Lovette nodded in agreement, curls bouncing. “My medicinal guides get the most use, but there are several storybook compilations that got read so much the bindings gave up between us when we were children.”
We curved around the city, very near to what they told me were the magical council buildings, and Lovette tsked as she spotted her father. He was talking to a group of several men.
“Looks like the meeting didn’t go very well,” Lovette commented, taking in his tense body language.
“I’d be unhappy, too, if I had to go to those boring debriefings.” Imogen’s face scrunched in distaste. “I’ll bet Gaius is thankful to miss them when he’s away.”
Lovette nodded. “He is. Most things about his post are frustrating, but that’s one he takes with great joy.” She looked at me, giving a bright smile. “Gaius is my mate.”
“Are you all mated? I thought it was a very rare thing, but it seems there are quite a few of you.”
“Not all,” Lovette said, and between the quirk in her mouth and the tightness of Imogen’s, I could tell she was teasing her sister. “Though there does seem to be quite an increase in mated pairs around these parts lately.”
I scanned the men standing with Magnus, stopping when I got to the third one. My breath left my lungs as though I’d been punched. The sisters took several steps before they realized I wasn’t with them.
“Hailon? Everything okay?” Lovette asked, following my gaze.
“He’s the last one,” I said, stuck on the thought running through my mind. I honestly couldn’t believe he looked so peaceful, just going about his business as though he wasn’t living a villainous life.
“Last one?” Imogen’s serious, frowning face was shockingly intimidating, especially when she crossed her arms.
I pointed. “The man in the black coat, the one with the mustache. He was part of the group that experimented on me while I was held captive in Olinbourg. He’s the last of them to survive.”
“Oh.” Imogen’s surprise melted into something like excitement. “ Oh . That’s Brookes. I’ve never liked him. Lovette?”
“Yep, leave it to me.” Lovette darted off, a smile on her face as she sprinted over and approached the group. She pulled her father to the side, very pointedly not looking our way as she spoke to him. After she’d said her fill, she waved to the group, and the five men eyed her with distaste before going back to their conversation with her father.
She made brief eye contact with Imogen, then disappeared around a corner only to appear in the sky above us, flying in the direction from which we came.
Imogen moved us into the semi-dark of an alleyway. “We must be patient and wait,” she said in response to my unspoken question, though she’d pulled a blade from her belt and was twisting the tip on her finger.
Even though I was as tense watching them as I could ever remember being, a sense of relief washed over me. It would be over soon, the wondering if someone was still following, watching. If I was going to be targeted again. There would be nobody left after this.
Then, I heard wings.