Chapter 5
Ambrose
Of course she was here. I had rearranged my morning to get to the library early, and it still wasn’t early enough.
Evelyn was hunched over a book—the journal, which I’d left on her desk as requested—aggressively taking notes about what she read.
Just once, I wished I could arrive before her and find out where the chair for the carrel across from hers went.
My usual seat on the other side of the room mocked me as I strode to it.
I still couldn’t fathom what we’d heard yesterday, and couldn’t wait for Lord Arctos’s explanation.
The Vesten God and Vesten Point had tested an unknown blood magic connection between themselves.
It was reckless—the epitome of everything Father feared.
It reminded me of … I glanced across the room at Evelyn.
Well, it reminded me of someone else I knew.
Evelyn’s research had always part fascinated and part terrified me.
Most days, I wasn’t sure if it was her courage or my caution that was more troublesome.
Evelyn had been a mystery I wanted to unravel from the first moment I met her. I wanted to know what she loved, what she hated, why she spent so much time on blood magic, and what made her so good at it.
We’d first met when Gabriel sent me to the Records Office, where the human officials of Sandrin kept their history.
We’d needed to cross-reference some of our dates with theirs.
The problem was that no one in the Records Office cared about fae records.
I had approached the reception desk with little hope.
The female sitting there stared at me, pre-annoyed by my arrival.
I would have gone to anyone else, but she was the only one there, as if she’d drawn the short straw.
Not only had she been able to help me, she’d been able to tell me which of the human record books I would need to cross-reference with my fae ones.
The organization was different. It was the way she described the human and the fae books that made me realize she didn’t consider herself a part of either group.
My wolf had discreetly sniffed in an attempt to determine what kind of fae she was.
Apparently, I wasn’t as discreet as I thought.
She reprimanded me for my presumption, but no lessons were learned on my part, as she also gave me the information I sought.
She was half-Vesten. While she showed me the books I needed, she said I needed to tell her about myself, since I’d been so rude as to try and smell her magic.
I was so intrigued with her I didn’t mind sharing.
My work at the library had recently changed, so I told her about my research on blood magic.
It was brand new, and I was still terrified of it.
The first career decision I had made without my father’s approval, although I didn’t share that part; it was too personal.
Instead, I told her the Vesten Point prized information on blood magic, and very little of it was available.
I could prove myself invaluable if I made progress in this area.
She didn’t stop me as I pointed out that the only other researcher with published work on the topic wasn’t associated with any of the fae courts.
They published everything independently.
Only then did I notice she had stopped in place. I turned to check on her, and her cheeks were pink. She tilted her head as if trying to solve a puzzle, then she surprised me completely when she whispered, “You can’t be Ambrose Yarrow.”
My mind couldn’t work fast enough to keep up with how she had arrived at my identity. Then she introduced herself. Evelyn Knowles. She was the independent researcher—E. Knowles.
When I realized who she was, the work she did outside of the Sandrin Records Office, I’d asked her why she worked here. Immediately, I’d known I said the wrong thing. She had pointed to the books I needed, and then she was gone.
Still, I had mentioned her to Gabriel that afternoon at the library. He’d needed to know there was a brilliant magic researcher stuck in the Records Office. We hadn’t spoken about it again, but Evelyn had started at the library a week later.
Evelyn and I had never made it past that first impression, though.
I shook myself from the memory and changed course, walking toward her.
She didn’t acknowledge me, even when I arrived at her desk. I cleared my throat.
“Oh!” Her hand went to her chest as she jumped in her seat. “Ambrose. You scared me.”
My wolf preened. I tried to disguise my smirk with a frown. “Sorry. I thought I’d check when you wanted to hunt down Lord Arctos for the information he promised. Have you finished with the journal?”
I glanced at the plants she’d experimented with yesterday.
A rose, and … was that a morning glory? They didn’t usually do well together in a garden.
Evelyn had told Gabriel about them a few weeks ago.
She’d mentioned that she’d planted them beside each other in her own garden.
The roses had never bloomed; the morning glories strangled them out.
What could Evelyn be testing with them both in the same pot?
I’d been staring too long at the plants, so I shifted my focus to Evelyn. Her eyes narrowed; clearly, she’d noticed my attention on her experiment. She thought me too critical of her tests, I knew.
“Now works for me,” she said.
Her tone was polite, but it felt closed off.
I hated that this project set us against each other.
No one had ever challenged my hypotheses or conclusions as much as she did.
Well, my father did, but his approach was to tell me what I should be doing, not to ideate with me.
Evelyn seemed genuinely interested in brainstorming together—when she wasn’t angry with me.
Unfortunately for Evelyn, competing against her would only motivate me to strive for further improvement. A motivation based solely on the fact that I didn’t want to seem like an idiot to her.
The defiant expression on her face yesterday made my wolf want to howl. I want the Vesten historian position. She had said it so boldly, so proudly. I wanted that kind of conviction. I wondered how few people she showed hers to.
“Should we try Gabriel’s office?” she prodded as she stood, reminding me we were supposed to be searching for Lord Arctos.
“Yes, good idea.”
We began to walk together toward the Great Room’s large double doors. I grasped for something, anything, to fill the silence. “Anything of note in your readthrough?”
She hesitated. Her brow furrowed as if she were at war with herself.
I knew the struggle. The desire to discuss what I’d found was at odds with the fact that we were theoretically competing on the outcome of this research.
I would tell her about my findings anyway.
They would never sway her conclusions. If anything, she would reread with my interpretation in mind, probably to try to prove me wrong.
My wolf sighed, telling me that I sounded pathetic.
While true, I didn’t care; I just wanted to discuss the ideas with her.
“It’s not like I haven’t read it myself,” I pressed.
She crossed her arms over her chest as we made it to the door. Just when I thought she wouldn’t indulge the desire, she spoke. “These two human sisters practiced blood magic … recklessly, as you would say.”
I paused with my hand on the doorknob. “Yes, but I think almost all practice of blood magic is reckless.”
She raised a brow at the admission. I was a little surprised by it myself.
It was complicated to separate my views of blood magic from my father’s experience.
Evelyn’s experience with blood magic was utterly different, though.
I wanted to know more about it. Before I could ask, her expression soured.
Something about what she wanted to say next clearly made her very uncomfortable.
“What is it?” I asked. I’d pulled the door open, but we both stood still.
Her nose twitched again, like she was trying to inhale deeply to calm herself. Now I really wanted to know what she thought.
“When the sisters turn into veil cats…” She paused and glanced at me. Her sharp features were guarded, like she dared me to object, but there was curiosity there, too.
“I read it, Evelyn. I’m also familiar with the animals. They shepherd spirits to the afterlife.”
She scanned the surrounding space, as if checking to see who else could hear us. “You are?”
“I previously considered them only a children’s story. I know others believed they were extinct, but I think our illustrious leader would contest both facts.”
She looked confused.
“The Vesten Point, he’s a veil cat shifter,” I elaborated.
I wasn’t sure she was breathing.
“How do you know that?” she asked.
Now she had me questioning it. There was very little that Evelyn didn’t know. I couldn’t believe she was unaware of this. Although I did get the sense that, as a half-fae, she didn’t pay much attention to court politics.
“He took the form regularly when waking those impacted by the sleeping plague.” I scratched the back of my neck. “He didn’t make a formal announcement, but it’s out there.”
She cleared her throat. “Not only do the sisters shift into veil cats in the journal. One of them forms a blood magic bond … unintentionally.”
That was the most terrifying part of the book to me. “Yeah, I caught that, too.”
Evelyn ran her hand down the length of her braid. “I knew intent could … twist. It hadn’t occurred to me that intent didn’t have to be acknowledged by the wielder.”
Before I could respond, the black bird—who was becoming a little too familiar—flew through the door I held open and landed on Evelyn’s shoulder.
“Are you two ready to hear the details of mine and Carter’s test?”
Evelyn was right; I didn’t care for the way the Vesten God’s voice slid into my mind. It wasn’t something I would ever get used to.
“We were on our way to look for you,” she said.
“Yes.” He glanced at where we stood in the middle of the doorway. “It looks like it.”
Heat rose to the tips of my ears, but before either of us could say more, Lord Arctos flew back toward Evelyn’s desk, and we had no choice but to follow. I pulled my notebook and pencil from my pocket as we walked.
Lord Arctos spoke from his perch on the study carrel as soon as we arrived. “Carter and I confirmed that the connection is there, and that it works.”
“You told us that,” Evelyn replied as she retook her seat. The second chair was still missing, so I stood.
“I’m just warming up. Give me a moment.”
I was in awe of their rapport. She spoke to him the same way she talked to me, but through her annoyance with the god’s antics, I detected a bit of fondness for him. That part was missing in our relationship.
“We suspected the connection but needed to confirm it.”
“So, you’re saying this magical connection between the Compass Points and gods is similar to that of the human woman in this journal? That you didn’t wield blood magic specifically to create it? It just happened?” I was still having a hard time believing this.
Lord Arctos ignored my question and kept speaking into our minds. “The ceremony required us to be in a place of great magic, with an object of significance. We had to share a drop of blood each and open ourselves to each other. I believe you call this intent.” He nodded to Evelyn.
“You shouldn’t ignore Ambrose’s question,” Evelyn said. “It’s important.”
Lord Arctos ruffled his feathers. “Some of the gods may have known. I did not. But yes, that is why we wanted you to understand that this magic seems able to understand intent even if it’s not specifically voiced.”
Well, that was terrifying. I’d already been scared of the magic when I thought it was able to twist spoken intent, not conjure intent from the wielder’s thoughts.
“What happened when you did the ceremony?” I asked.
“Carter shared his power with me. I shifted into his veil cat form and called his fire.”
Evelyn froze at the mention of the veil cat—like maybe she could have ignored what I had said about the Vesten Point, but she couldn’t ignore the god of our court stating it as a fact. She seemed to collect herself to ask, “Anything else?”
The bird’s black eyes narrowed on her. “Yes, but you haven’t earned it yet. Let me know when you have some ideas on how to break this connection.”
With that, he flew away.