Chapter 27
Syneca
When the Furies’ names are spoken and thunder answers, someone has committed an offense they believe to be righteous. Stay out of their path.
Three days.
Three precious, agonizing days had crawled past like dying animals, and we were all losing our minds with stir-craziness.
I hadn’t done an ounce of paperwork in that time.
The sprites had started storing the stacks in piles down the hall.
Pip casually shifted it around from time to time so it looked like something was happening, but mostly I’d been ignoring it. I’d have never done that two weeks ago.
We sat in the kitchen watching Pip absolutely destroy Calder at cards while Lucy laughed so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. The little sprite had been learning his strategy, and now she was using it against him with vicious efficiency.
“That’s—” Calder stared at his cards. “How did you?”
“You taught me to count the cards!” Pip chirped, laying down her winning hand with a flourish that made her blue hair shimmer brighter than her matching eyes. “You said I should always know what’s been played and what’s left. So I did!”
Her cheeks were flushed pink, wings fluttering with excitement.
She’d been spending more time with Calder over the past few days, and I’d noticed the way she looked at him—shy glances when she thought no one was watching, the way she laughed a little harder at his dry comments.
It could never work, but I loved a girl for dreaming. .. big.
“Rematch, Pip Squeak,” Calder demanded, already gathering the cards.
“You’re just going to lose again,” the Oracle said, leaning back in her chair. “The sprite’s got your number, Heartless One.”
“Impossible. She got lucky.”
“Three times in a row?” Riot asked, winking at Pip.
Calder shot him a look that would have been threatening if Pip wasn’t giggling into her hands.
We’d all found solace in these moments together, even if that wasn’t Calder’s intention.
Something about avoiding the outside world kept us anchored to each other.
Riot and Aureth had become part of that anchor, though I wasn’t sure when exactly it had happened.
The Oracle sat now with her teacup cradled in both hands, steam rising past her blindfold as she listened to Pip’s victorious chattering with the kind of serene patience that made me think she genuinely enjoyed the chaos.
Every so often, she’d tilt her head toward whoever was speaking, a small smile playing at her lips like she could see more than just the words being said.
“Calder,” she said suddenly, interrupting his grumbling about rematch rules, “you’re going to knock over your water glass in approximately one second if you keep gesturing like that.”
His hand froze mid-wave, hovering dangerously close to the glass.
“How did you—” Lucy started. “Never mind.”
“I heard the shift in his sleeve, the angle of movement, the proximity to where he’d placed the glass earlier.” Aureth took a delicate sip of tea, then smiled. “Also, he does it every time he loses. Riot’s been moving the glasses out of reach for three days now.”
Riot’s shoulders shook with silent laughter behind her.
“I hate all of you,” Calder muttered, but there was no heat in it.
It was that—the casual way she could read a room she couldn’t see, the way her presence somehow made everything feel less suffocating even when we were trapped inside with rain hammering against the windows, that had woven her into our strange little group without any of us quite noticing it happening.
Wickett paced near the doorway, his boots wearing a deeper path into the already worn floorboards. He’d been like this for three days, all coiled tension seeking a target, just a monument of frustrated energy.
“We should be at the docks,” he said for the hundredth time.
“The storms haven’t let up,” I replied with practiced patience, repeating the excuse I’d been feeding him since we returned from Tiberius’s office.
“No ships coming or going. The dock workers are barely there themselves. Just skeleton crews checking the mooring lines and making sure nothing breaks loose in the wind. We’d stand out like blood on snow and learn absolutely nothing. ”
It wasn’t entirely a lie. The storms had been brutal, autumn weather turning violent as if the world was angry. But mostly, we just needed time. Time for Calder’s plan to unfold. Time for everyone to be so on edge, waiting for their own deaths, that they would agree to let us leave on our own.
“Twenty-three days left,” Wickett said, as if we’d all forgotten. “Twenty-three days before the oath takes us, and we’re sitting here playing cards.”
“Would you like to join?” Pip offered brightly, holding up the deck. “I’ll teach you! It’s actually really fun once—”
“No,” he cut her off, but then his voice gentled slightly. “Thank you.”
Lucy dealt another hand, her movements practiced and smooth. “Anyone else think the Rune Eat—uh, Heartless One might actually be terrible at cards?”
“I’m not terrible,” Calder protested. “The game is rigged.”
“How can cards be rigged?” Pip giggled, arranging her cards on the table.
The raven shifted on the windowsill, its head tilting at an angle that seemed just a little too interested in Calder’s cards.
“You know what?” Calder said slowly, his eyes narrowing on the bird. “That raven has been very attentive throughout this entire game.”
“Corvus enjoys watching,” Aureth said innocently. “He finds human games fascinating.”
“I’m sure he does.” Calder laid down a card, watching the raven’s reaction. It ruffled its feathers twice. Pip immediately played a winning combination.
“Wait.” Calder’s head snapped toward the sprite. “Did that bird just—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Pip said, but her wings fluttered so fast they became a blur.
“The raven is signaling you.” Calder pointed at Corvus, who had the audacity to look smug. “That’s why I keep losing. You’ve recruited a cheating... bird!”
Lucette burst out laughing, nearly falling from her chair. “Oh my Furies! You’ve been getting destroyed by a sprite and a raven working together.”
“For three days!” I added, unable to help myself. “Though I’m pretty sure Silas was helping yesterday.”
“Corvus,” the Oracle said with perfect serenity, “is simply expressing his natural curiosity. It’s not his fault if Pip happens to be observant.”
The raven cawed once, sounding distinctly pleased with itself.
“I’m done,” Calder announced, taking the last bite of his bacon. “I refuse to play against cheaters.”
“Aw, don’t be grumpy!” Pip flew over and patted his shoulder. “You taught me strategy! Now I’ve taught you about... getting creative with resources.”
“Using a bird as a spy is not strategy, it’s—” He stopped, then shook his head with something that might have been a smile. “Actually, it was fairly clever.”
“Thank you!” Pip beamed, her adoration of Calder restored.
A knock at the door made us all freeze.
Two sprite messengers, both in silver and black uniforms, both with trembling wings, hovered at the threshold. “Messages,” the first one squeaked. “For Syneca Black?”
When I raised my hand, he flew over and handed me the sealed envelope.
“And for Lucette Varrow?” the second sprite said, before darting forward to give Lucy hers.
The wax seal on my envelope bore Tiberius’s mark. Of course it did.
The sprites zipped away before anyone could ask questions.
I broke the wax seal, aware of everyone watching. The message was brief. Brutal in its simplicity.
Since you have been unable to fulfill my order to investigate the docks, you will be seen at tomorrow’s semi-final game.
You’re to wear your uniforms and play the part of loyal patrons of your Magistrate.
The people haven’t seen you since your oath began.
Remind them you are still alive, or I’ll decide which of you shouldn’t be.
My hands clenched, crumpling the parchment.
“What does it say?” Wickett asked, moving closer.
“We’re all attending the Nexus games tomorrow.” I kept my voice flat. “Mandatory appearance. In uniform. The Magistrate wants to remind the city we exist.”
“Or remind them he owns us,” Calder said quietly.
Lucette broke the seal on her own letter, and I watched her face change as she read. Grief. Then resignation. Then something harder.
“My parents,” she said quietly. “They’re taking Draven’s body back to Noreya for Final Rites. They want to see me before they leave. To say goodbye properly.”
The room went silent. We hadn’t discussed her brother.
“When?” I asked.
“Today. This afternoon.” She folded the letter with precise movements. “They leave on the evening train.”
“The Magistrate might—” Pip started.
“He can go to the Underworld!” Lucy snapped. “He’s not the head of my government!”
Wickett cleared his throat. “I’ll handle my father if he asks. Family should come first.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “Thank you.”
“Actually,” Calder said, standing and stretching like he’d just thought of it, “while Lucy’s handling her family business, Syn and I were planning to head into the Crook. See if we can shake loose any information about the Phoenix.”
“The Crook?” Wickett’s attention snapped to us. “That’s—”
“Dangerous, yes. Which is why we can’t take anyone else.
” I kept my voice level. “The people down there, they don’t talk if you bring a crowd.
Especially not if that crowd includes hunters or shifters or anyone who might draw attention.
Just two people asking discreet questions is the most that could ever work.
They already know we’re Venatori. That’s enough to keep some hidden behind locked doors. ”
“During the storms?” Wickett asked slowly.
“Yes.” Calder’s voice carried casual authority. “Guards will be thin on the streets. It’s the perfect time.”
“I don’t like it,” Wickett said.