7. Lazarus
The room is dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering screen of my laptop.
Papers are scattered across the desk - manifests, hospital records, reports - all of them useless.
Paitlyn is gone. Not just gone, completely erased.
As if she never existed. I’ve been at this for weeks, pulling every string I have, calling in favours, bribing officials, and still, nothing.
She’s vanished without a trace.
My contacts have come up empty. They’ve combed through every inch of the Palace, every known safe house, every contact her immediate family might have reached out to. Nothing. It’s as if she’s been swallowed by the earth itself.
I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples, feeling that near constant throb behind my eyes.
I can’t stop thinking about her, about what happened that night after I left.
The man that appeared after me, the man who switched the knives, he must have been Esau.
It’s the only thing that makes sense but Paitlyn is also Esau, or she was.
So did they get her out? Did they save her?
Did they smuggle her out, and that’s why there’s no record of her anywhere?
My phone buzzes on the desk, startling me. I glance at the screen, at the words ‘unknown number’. I hesitate for a moment before answering.
“Lazarus,” I say, my voice low.
“It’s me,” the voice on the other end says. I recognize it immediately. Chris Casey is someone who’s proven reliable in the past, someone loyal to me and not my brother. In my world, that makes him invaluable.
“What do you have for me?” I ask.
“Devin Blake,” he says. “Magnus’s brother. He’s been committed to an asylum.”
I sit up straighter, my fingers tightening around the phone. “What?”
“Yeah,” he continues. “Word is, he was a Chapter Guard. Now he’s locked up, h was committed the day of the attack and is now completely out of commission. Isn’t that convenient?”
Convenient indeed. Did this Blake know what really happened that night? If he’s been silenced, it’s because someone doesn’t want him talking.
“Anything else?” I ask, my mind racing.
“Gunther’s brother,” he says. “He’s been making public statements, says the murder was a tragic ending for both Gunther and his wife. He’s apparently mourning them both.”
I grit my teeth at the obvious lie.
“So, what’s the play here?” he asks.
“Keep digging,” I say. “Find out who put Devin in that asylum, and keep an eye on Guthrie. If he’s covering something up, I want to know what it is.”
“Will do,” he says, and the line goes dead.
I set the phone down as my mind starts spinning.
Devin Blake in an asylum. Gunther’s brother playing the grieving family member…
it’s all too neat, too tidy. Someone’s cleaning house, covering their tracks.
But who? Would my brother go this far? Would he really care this much to eliminate someone so insignificant?
I need answers, and there’s only one person who might have them.
I pick up the phone again and dial Antonio’s number. He answers on the third ring.
“Lazarus,” he says, his voice so calm, so measured.
“Antonio,” I say, skipping the pleasantries. “What do you know about Paitlyn?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, just long enough to tell me that he knows something.
“Lazarus,” he says finally, his voice heavy with regret. “You need to let this go.”
“Let it go?” I snap, my anger flaring. “We both know she’s not dead. Someone took her, and I’m not going to stop until I find out who.”
“Lazarus,” he says again, his voice firmer this time. “The Grand Master has spoken. This matter is closed.”
“Closed?” I say, my voice rising. “Since when do we just let one of our own disappear? Since when do you turn your back on your duty?”
“Lazarus,” Antonio says, his tone warning. “You’re treading on dangerous ground. Let it go.”
I can hear it in his voice, the hesitation, the fear. Antonio knows something, something he’s not telling me.
“Antonio,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “If you know something, you need to tell me. Now.”
There’s another pause, longer this time. When he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper.
“Lazarus, you don’t understand. This isn’t just about Paitlyn. This is bigger than her. Bigger than you. If you keep digging, you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Then tell me what’s going on,” I say, my voice desperate now.
“I can’t,” he says, and I can hear the regret in his voice. “I’m sorry Lazarus, but this is where it ends.”
The line goes dead, and I’m left staring at the phone, my mind reeling.
Antonio knows something. Something big. Something dangerous, and he’s too scared to tell me.
I set the phone down, fighting the urge to smash it to smithereens. If Antonio won’t help me, then I’ll have to find the answers on my own.