Chapter 16 Zaria #2
“With Ward gone, I was his natural successor. I knew it would fall to me to ensure Zaria fulfilled her damn commissions, and I didn’t particularly want to see her again.
” Kane looked at Jules, not Zaria, as he spoke.
“I knew if she had the primateria source, at least that part of the dark market would run smoothly, which could only help me while I found my footing as kingpin. Yes, I had initially intended to replace the necklace with a fake. But this”—he gave the pendant another shake—“is the real thing. At least, it should be.”
Zaria exchanged a glance with Jules. Kane still wasn’t looking at her, and she got the sense that he wasn’t being entirely honest. She just wasn’t sure which part was the lie.
“So this necklace,” she said, “is the exact one I took from the Waterhouse exhibit?”
Finally—finally—Kane’s eyes met hers, his face schooled to indifference. “Yes. It’s not my fault if you can’t figure out how to use it.”
“There shouldn’t be a learning curve. Logically, exposing it to flame in place of blood and soulsteel should be enough to generate primateria, whether the source is disguised or not.” Zaria had tried everything she could think of, and she wasn’t an inexperienced alchemologist.
“Ward wouldn’t have asked me to steal a forgery.”
“Maybe he didn’t know it was one,” Jules suggested.
“He would have done his research.”
“He wasn’t exactly infallible.”
“The real question,” Zaria said, “is what happened to the real source. Assuming Waterhouse ever truly had it at all.”
Kane dragged a hand over his hair, the shape of his mouth rigid.
Zaria had the impression she was watching him come apart in real time.
“I’ll try and find someone to confirm it one way or another.
In the meantime, a Mister Lombard is awaiting his commission, and I don’t intend to make him wait much longer.
” He thrust an arm out, and it took Zaria a moment to realize he was handing her the necklace.
She took it from Kane’s palm, her fingertips brushing his. He moved away with almost uncanny haste.
“The workshop behind Moore & Sons,” he reminded her firmly. “Adam or Elijah will meet you there soon, so don’t even think about going elsewhere. Julian—accompany her, will you?”
It looked as if Jules’s automatic reaction was to argue, but he thought better of it. “Sure. Whatever.”
“Where are you going?” Zaria dared to ask Kane.
“I have work to do.” He adjusted the collar of his shirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow. In the meantime, don’t make any trouble.”
“Your mother?” Jules said a short while later, staring at Zaria as though he couldn’t quite grasp the concept. “Vaughan knows where she is?”
Zaria motioned for him to keep his voice down, glancing toward the workshop door outside which Elijah currently hovered like an ill-tempered bouncer.
“His people claim she works for him. That they know where she is.” Her voice was a hiss.
“That’s why I need to find this ledger, and why I needed to get close to Kane. ”
“Wow.” Jules blinked. “So she’s still alive. And nearby, presumably.”
His words sent a pang through Zaria. “So it would seem.”
“Did they tell you anything else about her? How do you know it’s not a lie?”
“If Vaughan wanted someone to use as leverage, why choose my mother? She might as well not exist to me.”
“Makes you wonder what she’s been doing this whole time,” Jules said, still looking dubious. He considered for another moment, his brow creasing further. “Don’t you think it’s kind of a strange ask?”
“What?”
“The ledger. There are easier ways to try and poach dark market clients. Tail a couple of the crew members when they’re working.
Hell, corner one and make him talk. Why does Vaughan want a physical document?
Getting you involved, then waiting for you to regain Kane’s trust so you can steal it, is far more of a hassle. ”
This gave Zaria pause. She hadn’t questioned Vaughan wanting the ledger—why wouldn’t he?—but Jules raised a good point. “Maybe he wants all the information at once, rather than collecting bits and pieces. He does seem content to work behind the scenes and let things happen slowly.”
“I suppose,” Jules said with a shrug. “It just makes you wonder if there’s more to it.”
Maybe there was, or maybe there wasn’t. What difference did it make?
Either way, Zaria didn’t have much choice but to do as Vaughan requested.
“The rationale doesn’t matter.” She jammed the toe of her boot against a leg of the worktable.
“It’s Kane I need to worry about. He’s all but promised to destroy my life if I make him regret working together again. ”
“But he wants your help to track down this Curator.”
“Right.”
A low whistle. “This is… complicated.”
“Trust me, I’m aware.” Zaria lit a candle as she released a breath.
The workshop was precisely as she’d left it—she doubted either Kane or Fletcher had so much as peeked through the window since her final departure.
Despite the tension in her limbs at Kane’s warning about her unfinished commissions, a beat of hope had rippled through her at the sight of the alchemology supplies lining the dust-covered shelves. “Can you hand me the knife?”
Jules did as she asked, though his mouth thinned when she pressed the delicate blade against her palm and let blood drip steadily into the flame. By now, it was an action Zaria had repeated enough times that she didn’t wince. “You’re not going to try to use the source?”
“I don’t see the point. I’ve tried more times than I can count.
” But she retrieved it from her pocket nonetheless, grasping it tightly in the hand that wasn’t bleeding.
As always, she felt nothing more than the hollow thrum of a magic she couldn’t access, and shook her head. “I’m telling you, it doesn’t work.”
Since Lombard had only commissioned a simple revolver, she was able to fit the weapon together relying largely on muscle memory, aided every so often by Jules passing her the requisite parts.
She could tell he wanted to ask her something by his intake of breath, but he kept biting back whatever he was about to say.
“What is it?” Zaria demanded finally, turning to look at him through the candlelight.
Her friend’s expression was serious, a little apprehensive. “It’s just… do you want to find your mother?”
“Oh. I don’t know. I mean, there are things I want to ask her.
” She added the soulsteel and shut her eyes, turning inward.
It was difficult, trying to channel her energy toward creation when her mind was so full of questions.
Blood and soulsteel. Did she want to cross paths with the woman who had abandoned her?
Soulsteel and blood. And if her mother was working for the enigmatic kingpin, did Zaria even want to know why?
Only when she finally had primateria in her grasp did she turn, panting, to Jules once more. “Can I ask you something in return?”
He scrutinized her face, undoubtedly noting her pale cheeks and the sheen of sweat at her brow. “Of course.”
“Why did you agree to Kane’s plan?”
“Oh.” Jules handed her the revolver so that she could fit the primateria into the metal casing.
“Because as much as I hate to admit it, I think it’s a decent one.
If what he says is true, then prison is on the table, Zaria.
I might not trust Kane as far as I can throw him, but he obviously has a knack for staying out of custody.
Don’t give me that look—you’re letting your feelings about Kane cloud your judgment. ”
“My feelings? You hate him.”
“Yes, but not enough that I can’t be logical about the situation. Kane is good at devising and executing a plan. You just don’t like it because you’re mad at him and protective of me. Which I appreciate.” Jules laid a dramatic hand over his heart.
“Need I remind you how his last plan turned out?”
“Technically, though, we were successful. Also, none of us died.”
“That’s a fairly low bar.”
“Maybe, but it’s true.”
Zaria sighed. “I’m the one who got us into this mess. It’s not right that you’re the one who has to get us out of it.”
“It’ll hardly be a solo job,” Jules said. He pulled away from the table, coming to stand at her side. “I’m more worried about how you plan to steal this ledger.”
“I thought about trying to create a key similar to the one we used to open the Waterhouse display. One that will adjust to fit the door to Kane’s office.
” Her previous creation hadn’t exactly worked as intended, requiring some intervention from Kane’s lock-picking tools, but getting into an office would be far easier than cracking open the display’s complex permutating lock.
The only problem was her constant shadow.
Zaria inclined her head to where Elijah stood guard outside the workshop, lowering her voice.
“But he’s always watching me, or else guarding my rooms at the manor. ”
“So you need a distraction,” Jules said, grinning slyly. “Someone to cause a disturbance at the perfect time.”
She lifted a brow. “Are you offering your services?”
“I’ve been known to raise havoc every once in a while.”
At that, Zaria couldn’t help but return his smile. “Well then. It looks as though we have some work to do.”
In the end, the plan was this: Jules would launch an explosive into the shed behind the manor.
The resulting noise would draw the attention of everyone close enough to hear—including Elijah, who, keen not to disappoint Kane again, would almost certainly sprint to investigate.
While Jules made himself scarce, Zaria would bypass the lock into Kane’s office.
This time, creation came more easily. She was quick to retreat into her consciousness, tightening the threads of her focus and picturing what she wanted to make.
The workshop around her faded. She was entirely too aware of her body: each pump of her heart, each expansion of her lungs.
When the anticipated rush finally washed over her, it was accompanied by a sense of relief.
As if her subconscious had been waiting for this, craving it, and she’d only now realized it.
All at once, darkness came hurtling toward her, the weight of it crushing. She didn’t know which way was up. It was as though a wall had slammed down in her mind, trapping her somewhere far too deep for comfort. Panic fastened skeletal fingers around her throat. She was drowning.
“Zaria?” Jules’s voice speared through the quiet. Suddenly the fingers were his, and the world began to right itself, swimming back into startling focus.
Her face felt hot—too hot. Her stomach churned, and she bolted for the workshop door, barely making it past a perplexed Elijah before she doubled over, dry heaving.
Although nothing came up, she couldn’t seem to stop, and she continued retching until she felt Jules’s warm hand against her back.
It grounded her, that touch, and she forced herself to swallow, gasping.
“What happened?” Jules’s tone was rife with worry. “Are you okay? I’ve… never seen you react quite like that.”
Zaria collapsed to sit on the gravel-strewn road, not caring that Elijah had come to stand behind Jules’s shoulder. The other boy’s arms were crossed, his gaze discerning. She ignored him. “I think I let myself go just a little too far. I’m fine.”
Jules wasn’t convinced. “We’re done for the day.”
She didn’t bother arguing. They had Lombard’s revolver, as well as what they needed for tonight, and that was what mattered.
“Would either of you care to explain what’s going on?” Elijah demanded. To Zaria, he said, “Do you need to see a doctor? Durante will want to know if you’re unwell.”
“She’ll be fine,” Jules answered for her. “She just needs to rest.”
“Then I’ll escort you back to the manor.” After a moment of hesitation, Elijah offered Zaria his hand.
Grudgingly, she let him pull her up. “Please don’t bother Kane about this.” An interrogation was the last thing she needed to contend with just now.
Elijah continued to study her with that searching look, eventually giving a curt nod. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
Then Jules was at her side, pressing a linen bag into her arms. Zaria hadn’t even seen him dart back into the workshop. “Here are your things. I’ll see you later. Be careful.” At Elijah’s suspicious glance, he added, “About—er—overextending yourself.”
Zaria brushed the dirt from her dress with her free hand. “I’m always careful.”
Jules’s responding scoff echoed in the narrow street.