Chapter 21
Aster
I’m trapped in a nightmare. Three ice-cold pairs of eyes glare at us from across the breakfast table and I find my appetite has deserted me. Three pairs of sorcerers’ eyes.
We’re in the restaurant of a different hotel from the one we stayed in last night. This one’s equally luxurious but is apparently closer to Jack’s family home. When Reva asked him why we weren’t meeting there, he laughed.
“Trust me. This is going to be awkward enough without us venturing into that crypt.”
Now we’re sitting across from them, I can see exactly what he means.
There’s so little movement in Jack’s mother’s face, it’d be easy enough to mistake her for a statue if it wasn’t for the raw blue flames shooting out of her eyeballs whenever she looks at her son.
She has a blood-red drink in front of her, one that’s somehow the same colour as her hair and her lips, which she’s sipping from instead of eating anything.
Beside her, Jack’s father sits looking more corpse than man.
And on his mother’s other side is Jack’s brother, who is like a slightly shorter version of their father.
Jack’s wearing the same horrendous purple suit as yesterday, except this time he has both wrists laced with bangles that jingle every time he moves.
The sound is made only more obvious by the distinct lack of conversation around our table. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Jack was making his bangles jangle on purpose since his father visibly winces every time he moves, which in turn makes Jack smirk.
“Why is no one talking?” Reva mutters to me. “Please stop me if I start making inappropriate jokes.”
All around us are other diners, talking in low voices and clinking cutlery, but no one from our table has said a word for at least five minutes.
Five endless minutes.
We’re all dressed in suits that Jack appeared with this morning and I can’t remember ever having worn a suit in my life before.
I have to keep shrugging my shoulders to dislodge the tightness of the shirt at my windpipe.
I’m not the only one either, Torin’s looks at least two sizes too small and looks about ready to burst his way out of it.
At least I’m not the only one who’s uncomfortable.
“If his mother doesn’t stop looking at Torin like that, I’m going to scratch her eyes out,” Reva continues under her breath.
She’s the only one of us who looks remotely comfortable in what she’s wearing. She’s wearing a bottle-green dress that makes her hazel eyes look almost otherworldly. It also leaves a lot of her shoulders bare, and I can’t stop my eyes from darting to them every time I look at her.
It also seems to have caught Jack’s brother’s attention, judging by the way he can’t take his eyes off her.
Clenching my fingers around my fork, I fight the urge to do some eye gouging of my own and dart a look down the table. Jack and Torin have both piled their plates high and are both eating with their heads down, entirely engrossed in eating.
Jack’s father says something, and Reva squeezes my thigh under the table, causing me to jolt in surprise. She snorts softly, quickly spelling out the words onto my thigh so that I can keep track of the conversation.
“Son, such a pleasure to see you again,” Jack’s father says, fooling absolutely no one that he’s speaking the truth. “Do you know how long you’ll be in the city for?”
Jack swallows a mouthful of food, wiping his hand over his mouth so that his bracelet tinkles obnoxiously. His face flips between emotions so quickly, it’s almost an art. One second, there’s a flash of feigned confusion, and then he’s smiling blandly at his father.
“Oh, not long.”
The table lapses into silence again and I take a bite of food to give myself something to do.
When I happen to glance up from my plate, Jack’s brother is still eyeing Reva with interest while his mother has her terrifying gaze focused on me.
She shifts in her seat, taking a painfully drawn-out sip of her drink before trailing her fingers over her neck.
Fighting a grimace, I return my focus to my food again, choking it down.
“Will you be staying for the dinner tonight?” His mother asks airily. “It’s the quarterly congress, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
Jack takes a swallow of his drink, rattling the ice at the bottom of his glass before he replies, “I’d forgotten, actually. My invitation must have gotten lost somehow.”
His mother nods, finishing the last of her drink before snapping her fingers to one of the waitstaff to refill it.
“Well, as much as we enjoy the pleasure of your company—” his father says, earning a snort from the brother that’s badly disguised by a cough. “—would you care to fill us in on the reason for this visit?”
“Well,” Jack says, pushing his empty plate away. “We wanted to see if you can help us track down some rogue sorcerers. Apparently, they’ve been kidnapping people and draining them of all their magic.”
His mother lets out a tinkling laugh that sets my teeth on edge. “Whatever are you talking about, son? Rogues? Kidnapping? All those years out of the city have made you very dramatic, darling.”
Jack’s smile is a smooth baring of his teeth as he splays his hands out on the tabletop.
“Well, they haven’t exactly been subtle, Mother.
Leaving trails of people all over with their magic drained.
Witnesses who know exactly how they look.
” He tsks, shaking his head in mock disappointment.
“You wouldn’t want word getting out that you’re losing control of your flock, now, would you? ”
His mother delicately clears her throat. “Indeed? And do you believe you can identify these ‘rogues’ by sight?”
“We can.”
His mother’s eyes show more movement than the rest of her has demonstrated since this endless breakfast began. She gives a stiff, toothless smile that looks entirely unnatural before releasing another tinkling laugh.
“Then, of course, you should take a look at our current roster. If there are undocumented sorcerers practicing, of course we’ll need to act swiftly.”
“Miles,” the father says with an expectant look at the brother who has his eyes firmly focused on Reva’s chest. His father nudges him in the ribs and he huffs a dramatic sigh before plucking something the size of a deck of cards from his pocket and tossing it over to Jack.
“We’ll let you finish your breakfast in peace.” Jack gets to his feet, and the rest of us jerkily follow his lead. Reva slips her hand into mine, translating quickly onto my palm. “Don’t worry though, we’ll make sure to get this back to you.”
His mother waves her hand airily. “Don’t worry about that. We have plenty.”
“Well then, we’ll be sure to update you if we do identify any of your rogues.”
Jack’s father makes a strangled sound and opens his mouth, but his wife cuts him off. “Of course, darling. It would be... well, just darling to see you tonight.”
Jack leads the way as we head out of the hotel while the rest of us trip along behind him. The moment we step outside, some of the tension lifts from my shoulders and Reva lets out an audible groan.
“So, that was enjoyable,” she mutters. “Where are we headed next, to stab ourselves with hundreds of tiny needles to add to this morning’s discomfort?”
“Nah,” Torin replies. “We’d need to set ourselves on fire for it to compare.”
“Or take a bath with a bunch of snakes?”
Thankfully, it’s none of those options. Instead, Jack directs us to a crumbling stone building that couldn’t look more out of place if it sprouted legs.
The city library.
Jack finds us a private study room at the bottom of the building, taking a seat around a huge wooden table. Once the rest of us have taken a seat, he reveals a small black rectangle that seems to be giving off a soft hum.
“Is that the thing your brother gave you?” Reva asks.
“It is.”
Jack taps it, just like the scrying glass in the captain’s office, and a tiny list of golden words appear on the table in front of him.
“Names,” Reva murmurs, leaning forward in her chair.
I feel even more like a country farm boy as I stare at the device. I’ve never seen anything like it.
I could tell you which vegetables were the latest to be waning when I left home. I could tell you the best time of year to plant potatoes and which words to whisper to the seedlings or which stage of the moon produces the best crops.
But I’ve never seen anyone using magic like they do in this city. Like it’s a mundane thing they have no limits to.
“It’s like a tiny book, powered by magic,” Reva says softly.
Jack hands the thing over to me, and I stare at it where it’s pinched between his fingertip and thumb with the list of words still visible in the air. When I don’t instantly take it from him, he taps the base and images appear beside the text.
“He says, ‘Knock yourself out’,” Reva tells me. She then plucks the thing from Jack’s fingers and hesitantly wiggles her fingers, causing the images to grow until still images of people are staring up at me from the tabletop.
“It’s a list of all the registered sorcerers and their pictures.” She licks her lips and screws up her nose adorably. “Are you happy to take a look through them?”
“That’s what we’re here for.” I stare down at the first couple, discounting them immediately. “This might take a while.”
“How long is the list?” Reva asks Jack.
“There are a few hundred at least.” Jack shrugs, kicking his feet up onto the table and leaning back in his chair. “Don’t your people have something similar?”
“Farmers?” I joke weakly to Reva.
She snorts and translates, earning me an eye roll that’s softened by a grin. “Witches.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Unless there’s a witch high society I know nothing about.”
Which is... actually pretty likely. The past couple of days have slapped me in the face with just how ignorant I am about the wider world.
“I’ve never stayed long in a place that requires registering,” Reva says.
“Seems our king is a real fan of knowing what everyone is,” Torin says. “I’m surprised he doesn’t make us all dress in special colours to denote our status.”
“You never know. Maybe they do in Ashwick.”
The capital. I pick that last word up even without Reva’s translation.
I’m quite glad when everyone stops talking for a moment so she doesn’t have to keep translating the conversation for me. Every word she says has to come out twice, once for me and once for everyone else.
Focusing my attention on the task in front of me, I shift in my seat, getting comfortable right as Jack jumps to his feet.
“Right, well, I’ve got some errands to run.”
It’s not long before Torin follows him out, muttering something about books.
Reva keeps me company, crossing her legs under the table and leaning against me. Glancing up at her, I gesture to the door with my eyes. “You don’t have to stay here with me,” I tell her. “This could take hours.”
She hesitates for just a moment before nodding and getting to her feet. “Since we’re here, I want to see if they have any books on mate bonds.”
The next few hours pass with Torin and Reva popping in and out with an ever-increasing pile of books that they both flick through while I scan image after image until my eyes blur. Name after name, face after face get discounted, and with every unfamiliar image, I feel my despondency grow.
I can’t tell how much time has passed when Reva nudges me in the ribs, holding up a cup of steaming, fragrant tea out to me with a knowing expression.
“Are you doing okay? Need to take a break?”
I rub my eyes, shaking my head. I have to be over halfway by this point, and I just want to keep ploughing through.
When I next pause and take a minute to look up, everyone has shifted around. Jack has taken Reva’s seat beside me and is looking at me expectantly.
Based on his expression of amused impatience, I get the sense he’s been trying to get my attention for a while.
He holds his hand out, presenting a tiny black square the size of my fingernail just inches from my face.
Unease twists my gut, and I glance up, searching for Reva to translate, but she’s not here.
Not that she should have to stay by my side just because I’m useless.
Jack mimes picking up the little cylinder and taps the back of his ear, indicating for me to do the same.
I don’t really understand what he wants me to do, but I fumble around, following his directions. As soon as it gets close to my ear, the black square attaches itself to my skin with a soft click. Then I’m assaulted with a screeching directly into my ear and I let out a yelp.
Jack drags me closer, tapping at my ear until the sound fades and I’m left with a high-pitched buzzing in my ear.
“Sorry, sorry. Is that better?”
My eyes widen as I stare at him.
I understood that.
“Can you understand me?” Jack asks and I nod, my face breaking into a wide grin.
Jack gives me a half-smile and a little salute. “Good. It must be exhausting not being able to communicate. It should last a couple of weeks maybe, and then we’ll work out a way to power it up again. How’s that sound?”
I nod at him. I still can’t speak, which might be for the best, but there’s no way he can understand the relief coursing through me.
It’s like I’ve been trapped underwater for years and I can finally resurface.