42. Harlow
HARLOW
I ’ve been searching through the Carrenwell House library for an hour when Kellan finds me.
I don’t even need to look up from my research to know that it’s him. His aura and the rhythm of his gait as he saunters across the room are so familiar. I glance at him when he’s a few feet away.
In the foggy gray morning light, he looks depleted. His aura is a dull orange, like he’s been over-exerting himself or using too much magic too quickly.
“You’re up early,” he says, peeking over the stack of books I’ve pulled from the shelves.
“Henry is a cuddler. I have to escape the first chance I get if I don’t want to be smothered,” I say.
What I don’t say is that I hesitated to leave the bed when he shifted enough for me to squirm free this morning.
I’m pretty sure he only holds me because he’s worried I’ll sleepwalk again and he’ll lose his chance to get the men he needs to defend the fort.
Whatever his reasons, I’ve never slept as heavily as I do with Henry’s arm curled protectively around me.
I continue to page through the book in front of me. It’s a large, handwritten tome with brittle pages and faded ink, and it contains the history of my family and the wells. I’m hoping to find any answer as to why the madness is only getting worse for some of us and why or how the Drained evolved.
Kellan chuckles. “So you’re enjoying the honeymoon period?”
I gesture to an abandoned needlepoint project that I’m planning to make into a pillow. “I’m fantasizing about creative ways to kill him.”
Kellan grins as he reads the nearly finished linen. “Disembowelment?”
“I’ve already run through the more obvious choices,” I say with a shrug. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him about Henry’s unique ability, but I hold back. I don’t trust him not to tell my parents out of fear for my safety, and I won’t lose my chance to get the tunnel key.
Kellan comes to stand over my shoulder to see what I’m reading. “Interesting choice. Doing some light research?”
Up close, the dark circles under his eyes are more severe, as is the distinct crease permanently etched between his brow.
“You look old.”
He laughs, and the lightness brings some youth back to his face. Still, I can tell something is weighing on him. He sits down beside me and takes a book from my stack.
“I saw him last night, you know?”
I still. “Oh?”
“Leaving a bar where rebels were meeting.”
I turn a page, but I’m no longer reading. “Henry? Was he speaking with them?”
“No, he was leaving when we arrived, and we found no one inside meeting about the rebellion.”
“So it was a bad tip?”
“Or we got there too late,” Kellan says.
I’m almost positive that Henry dropped that message from Rochelli in the fire on purpose. What I don’t know is why. I wish I knew what it said, but when I asked him later, he only remembered what I’d already read.
The wise thing would be to tell Kellan, but I know I’m not seeing the full picture, and the pieces almost fit together too well. If I tell him, he will run with it, and at least for the time being, I need Henry to trust me so I can take down Rafe .
I haven’t waited this long to finally settle my score with him to spoil it for some man. It’s not like I trust Henry anyway.
I release the crumbling page of the book and turn to look at Kellan. “Do you think he’s working with the rebellion?”
“I honestly don’t know. Either he is or he has remarkably bad luck.”
I flip my hair and grin. “He is married to me, so that tracks.”
“Nonsense. You’re a ball of sunshine,” he says. “Is he treating you well?”
“He’s treating me like he knows I’m trouble. He’s careful.” I go back to the faded handwriting in front of me.
Kellan slides a book from the stack and starts to page through. “So why the research?”
I lean an elbow on the table and rub my tired eyes. “Because I had dinner with Able last night. He had to be sedated, Kel. In the middle of the dining room.”
He cringes. “It’s getting worse. You’re trying to figure out why?”
I nod. “I have a few theories.”
Kellan leans back in his chair. “Let’s hear them.”
“Could it be how much they use their power?” I ask.
Kellan frowns and shakes his head. “I’d venture that I use my power at least as much as they do—daily, really.
Perhaps not to the same extent, but I have to think if that was the case and we added exposure over time, surely Thomas or Electra would both be at risk since they are the next two oldest. Neither of them have shown any signs of the—ill temperament. ”
“Ill temperament?” I laugh bitterly. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Low?”
I can’t stand the softness in his face. His eyes are lighter, like Aidia’s, and seeing them makes me miss her terribly.
I want to ask about her, but I want to believe Kellan’s on my side.
As much as I’ve seen him yell at our parents about Aidia and Rafe, I know I can’t fully trust him even if I want to.
“You’re right.” I sigh. “If it was about the length of exposure, Mother would also show signs. She’s colder than the dead of winter, but she’s not mad.”
He hums in agreement and continues flipping through his book. I slide my finger across the spines, reading the faded gilt titles of everything I’ve pulled so far.
“What are you looking for?” Kellan asks.
“Is there somewhere that the well pattern is documented? A map of the underground flow of it?”
His eyes light up. “You think it’s environmental?”
“If it’s not something that’s built up over time, it has to be something new that’s been introduced to the well. Maybe it’s connected to why the Drained have become worse over the last year.”
He goes entirely still, and I can sense him trying to feel me out. “Are they worse at the fort, too?”
I hesitate with my hand on a book of maps. “I was trapped with one the other night.”
His head snaps up from the book he’s paging through. “How?”
“It’s a long story. The point is, the Breeder is dead and I’m still here.”
“What was it like?”
“Definitely eerie. Much more in control—calm almost. I was bleeding, but it was biding its time. And it could talk.” Just thinking about its voice, like claws scraping over stone, makes my blood run cold.
“What did it say?”
“Henry jumped down between me and it like some kind of hero and said I was his, but it laughed and said I didn’t smell like I was his.”
“What does that mean?” Kellan asked.
“Well, Kel, when people get married, they sometimes spend alone time?—”
He holds up a hand and makes an exaggerated vomiting noise. “You know that’s not what I meant. I meant what was it scenting?”
I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine, but what if the madness and the evolution of the Drained are related?”
He purses his lips. “I had considered it, given the alignment of the timing. Obviously, we don’t know for sure when the Drained started to evolve, but it’s clear that there are quite a few of them that have now.”
I look him over again, noticing the lethargy of his aura. “You haven’t had any episodes of madness?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing unusual. Now stop reading my aura. It’s rude. I did an interrogation last night and it took a lot out of me.”
“You should take some time off,” I say .
He shakes his head and looks away. “I can’t. Not with everything that’s going on. The rebels tried to blow up the well two days ago. They snuck some supplies in with the lumber to build the Dark Star Festival dais.”
Even for someone like me who both has magic and a healthy skepticism about how much the Divine care what we do with their seemingly random blessings, attacking the symbol to those blessings seems like asking for trouble.
The well is sacred. The extreme sacrilege of it frightens me. That level of frenzy is unpredictable.
Kellan frowns and rubs the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t know if any of these books will have it.
That specific thing is such a family secret.
All of the public drawings only show the Blood Well.
” He takes two candlesticks from the table and places one in the center.
“So if this is the Blood Well, and this,” he places another candlestick south of it, “is the Family Well, it stands to reason that the well must empty out somewhere south of Carrenwell House.”
“So, somewhere in the Drained Wood?” I lean across the table, scoop up a third candlestick, and place it as far north of the Blood Well marker as I can get it. “This is the Mountain Well.”
Kellan stares at it in shock. “It’s true?”
“I saw it myself.”
Kellan rubs his chin. “Interesting that he showed you.”
I ignore his curiosity and focus on the rudimentary map.
“As far as I can tell, no one who uses the Mountain Well is having any adverse side effects. It’s just those of us in town, and if the well water really does flow underground and come out somewhere else, maybe it’s also corrupting the Drained. ”
We both stare at the markers as if they hold all the answers.
Kellan turns to look at the rows of bookcases. “I wouldn’t put it above our father or grandfather to hide any detailed maps in the vault somewhere, but there must be depictions somewhere they haven’t thought of.”
“The city planner?” I suggest. “I know he spends a lot of time with the mayor, but I can never tell if he actually likes Rafe, or if it’s just a necessity of his job. But surely, if he’s in charge of all city expansion and redesign, he needs to have records about Lunameade’s foundation. ”
Kellan rubs his chin and frowns. “I really don’t want you near Rafe or any of his allies.”
I roll my eyes. “If there was any other option, I would take it. It’s not like I want to spend quality time with him.”
He stares at me for a long moment, his face fixed in a frown. “I worry about you being alone with Rafe.”
“You should worry for him .”
He turns and walks down the row of history books, brushing his finger along the spines, humming as he goes. “So, not history and not the blessing records.”