Chapter 13 #2
He’s quiet for a long moment. Then: “Every single day. But I’d make it again.
That’s the real curse.” He looks at me, and there’s something raw in his expression.
“You’ll understand eventually. When you’re deep enough in, when you’ve absorbed enough sins and seen enough of what these angels actually are.
The worst part isn’t the suffering. It’s knowing you’d do it all again because the alternative was worse. ”
I think about Luna. About her bright voice on the phone, talking about trail cleanups and chemistry labs and all the mundane, beautiful details of a normal life. About how I’d sign a hundred contracts, serve a thousand years, if it meant keeping her safe.
“Yeah, I think I already understand.”
Nat’s expression softens slightly. “You’re here for someone. I can see it, not hidden, just...central. Everything you do orbits around protecting them.”
“My sister. Luna.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this.
Maybe because he can see the truth anyway.
Maybe after days and days of navigating Croesus’s games and the house’s shifting reality, it’s a relief to just be honest with someone.
“She’s nineteen. In college. Studying environmental science.
” I smile despite myself. “She has no idea any of this exists. I’ve kept her completely separate from magic, from angels, from all of it.
That’s the deal I made with Croesus: I serve my time, and he leaves her alone. ”
“Does he know you’d burn this place to the ground if he touched her?”
“I think he’s figuring it out.”
“Good.” Nat leans back, studying me. “Croesus respects very few things. Fear isn’t one of them. But absolute conviction? Love that would raze kingdoms?” He nods slowly. “That he understands. That he’ll honor. Mostly because he’s never felt it himself and finds it fascinating.”
“You know him well.”
“A century gives you time to figure people out. Even immortal ones.” He gestures around the library. “So what are you looking for? Besides escape and quiet?”
I hesitate, but if he can see lies, there’s no point in being evasive. “My grandmother, Meredith Vesper. She served two years here before she died. I want to know what she was doing. What she was researching. Why she made the deal in the first place.”
“Meredith Vesper.” He says her name like he’s tasting it. Testing it for truth. “Yeah, I remember her. Cold woman. Brilliant, but cold. She spent most of her time in the forbidden section.”
My pulse kicks up. “The section we’re not supposed to go near.”
“The very same.” He stands, stretches. “Look, won’t help you break in there.
That’s a line I won’t cross, Croesus would know, and he’d make the rest of my contract very unpleasant.
But,” He pauses. “I can tell you what’s not in the forbidden section.
Regular history. Contracts from the last few centuries. Records of deals made and debts paid.”
“Where would those be?”
He points to a section in the middle of the library. “Third row, fifth shelf, leather-bound ledgers. Chronological. If your grandmother made a deal, it’ll be recorded there. Names, terms, duration. Croesus is meticulous about his collection.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You might not like what you find.
” He stands and starts to walk away, then pauses.
“Be careful. Your grandmother was looking for something. Something important enough that she risked everything, including you, to find it. If you go down that same path...” He meets my eyes.
“Make sure you’re ready for what’s at the end. ”
He leaves before I can respond.
I sit there for a while, staring at the section he indicated. Third row, fifth shelf.
I should wait. Should think this through. Should probably ask Croesus’s permission before I dig through his files.
But I’ve never been good at waiting.
I cross to the indicated section, find the ledgers exactly where Nat said they’d be.
They’re massive, each one easily three inches thick, bound in black leather that’s softened with age.
Gold lettering on the spines shows date ranges.
I pull the one marked 1980-2025 and carry it to a nearby table, and open it.
The pages are filled with Croesus’ elegant script. Each entry is formatted the same way:
Name: [Full legal name]
Date of Contract: [Day/Month/Year]
Terms: [What they wanted]
Payment: [What they gave]
Duration: [How long they serve]
Status: [Active/Completed/Deceased]
I flip through, scanning names. Most I don’t recognize. A few are famous—politicians, artists, business magnates. People who made deals for power, for glory, for gold. People whose success came at the cost of their souls.
I find my grandmother on page 300.
Name: Meredith Anne Vesper
Date of Contract: 15 March 2022
Terms: Ability to research knowledge of the first falling. Access to restricted texts regarding the Morningstar’s division.
Payment: Seven years of service, split between the Seven Houses. Upon completion or death, soul belongs to the House of Gold.
Duration: Seven years (two served before termination)
Status: DECEASED - Contract transferred to heir (Raven Vesper)
I read it three times. Four. Five.
Knowledge of the first falling.
The Morningstar’s division.
My grandmother wasn’t here to break contracts or learn magic or gain power. She was researching something specific. Something about Lucifer and about how he fell.
She was researching the angels themselves.
“Find something interesting?”
I slam the ledger shut, spin around. Croesus is standing behind me, hands clasped behind his back, with an unreadable expression on his perfect face. How long has he been there? How much did he see?
“Just curious,” I say, trying to sound casual. “I wanted to know more about my grandmother’s deal since I’m bearing the cost of it now.”
“And now you do.” He moves closer, and I resist the urge to back away. “She wanted knowledge. I gave it to her. She served two years. Then she died. Her debt passed to you. Simple transaction.” His gold eyes fix on mine. “Unless you think there’s something more complicated happening here?”
It’s a test. I can feel it. He’s waiting to see if I’ll lie, if I’ll pretend ignorance, if I’ll try to hide what I’m actually looking for.
But Nat said I’m not a liar, said I carry my secrets openly, honestly. He wasn’t wrong.
So I meet Croesus’s gaze and tell him the truth.
“I think my grandmother found something. Something dangerous enough that she died for it.” I tap the closed ledger. “And I think whatever she was researching? I’m going to finish it.”
Silence. Long enough that I worry I’ve overplayed my hand.
Then Croesus smiles. It’s not a kind smile. It’s the smile of a predator who’s just realized his prey is more interesting than he thought.
“Good,” he says. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He turns and walks away, leaving me alone with the ledger and a thousand questions I don’t have answers to.
I open the book again and stare at my grandmother’s entry. Knowledge of the first falling.
What did you find, Gramms? What was worth seven years of your life? Worth your death? Worth passing this burden to me?
I pull out my phone and take a picture of the entry. Evidence. Something to refer to when the house’s shifting reality makes me doubt my memory.
Then I close the ledger, return it to the shelf, and walk out of the library with my heart pounding and my mind racing.
Nat is waiting in the corridor outside. He doesn’t ask whether I found anything. Just looks at me with those truth-seeing eyes and nods once, like he already knows.
“Welcome to the real game,” he says quietly. “Try not to die.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He almost smiles. “Yeah. That’s what they all say.”
That night, I dream of Gramms.
She’s standing in the library, surrounded by books and scrolls and tablets covered in scripts I can’t read.
Her silver hair is pulled back in a bun she always wore.
Her gray eyes, so much like mine, are fixed on something in her hands.
A book, leather-bound and old, with a symbol on the cover I’ve seen before.
A seven-pointed star.
She looks up, sees me, and her expression doesn’t change. “You’re too late.”
“Too late for what?” My voice echoes strangely in the dream-space.
“To stop it. To save them. To save yourself.” She closes the book.
“What? What happens?”
But she’s already fading, dissolving into golden light that swirls around me like a living thing. Her voice echoes as she disappears. “Finish what I started before they finish you.”
I wake up gasping, tangled in silk sheets that feel like chains. My heart is racing. My hands are shaking. And somewhere in the walls of the house, I swear I can hear laughter.
Not Croesus’s laugh. Something older. Something that knows exactly what I’m looking for.
Something that’s been waiting for me to look.
I don’t sleep again that night.