Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Veda doesn’t remember falling asleep. When she opens her eyes, dawn is approaching. Light paints the horizon outside, and the sky is empty, the stars tucked away in the wake of a new day. Still groggy, it takes her a minute to realize she’s not in her bed, nor is she at home.
This shocks her awake.
The bedroom looks professionally designed, from the oak furniture to the monochrome accents. No plants. No unnecessary clutter. Neatly stacked books on the right nightstand catch her eye, classics, from the look of it, and a book on sign language.
A bedroom can reveal a lot about a person. But Hiram’s confession that this isn’t a home he intended to keep makes her wonder whether this is truly who he is or just who he pretends to be. Not that Veda has spent a single minute thinking about him beyond cataloging her disdain.
A small part of her calls out the lie.
Honesty makes Veda uncomfortable. It demands vulnerability, risks rejection, and disrupts her illusion of competence.
Each time she talks to him, she can blame the ease with which truths spill out on something simple yet complex: She can no longer ignore the humanity of one man.
Where does that leave her? Veda doesn’t know, but she opens the door to find out.
Padding down the hall, she’s careful not to disturb anything.
There’s a throw and a pillow neatly stacked on the couch, the only signs Hiram slept there.
Now, though, he’s in the kitchen with the phone to his ear, speaking quietly.
Most of the time, when she sees him, long sleeves and pants conceal what’s on full display this morning in the comfort of his home.
He’s dressed in gray sweats and a white T-shirt, and his tattoos remind her that he’s more than the monochrome picture he presents.
The replica of her amulet stands out. The irony of her only sentimental possession being inked on his skin isn’t lost on her.
“Thanks, John, I’ll let them know.” He hangs up and turns. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah, but don’t worry. I didn’t hear much of your conversation.”
“I was talking to Grace’s stepfather,” he explains. “Everything okay?”
“You could have left me where I fell asleep.”
“On the sofa?” Hiram folds his arms.
“Yeah.”
He gives her a look that needs no response, one brow lifted. She tries not to think about the fact that he carried her to his bed, took off her shoes, and tucked her in. She’s a chronically light sleeper. She must have been exhausted, because she didn’t wake once.
“Is Antaris still asleep?” she asks.
“He gets up in an hour. The nameless cat is in a food coma after meowing at me until I fed him.” True to his word, the kitten is curled up in his little play area.
Hiram is already in the process of making everyone else breakfast, too.
The talisman’s chime draws a confused look from him before he excuses himself to answer the door.
“What are you doing here?”
His icy greeting makes Veda creep down the hall to the foyer, where a furious Hiram is speaking to an older, taller man. “Did you miss the part where I told you to leave? Mother—”
“Doesn’t know I’m here.”
Veda knows more about Barrett Ellis than she cares to, but this is the first time she’s seen him in person. Hiram has his eyes.
“Hiram . . .” Barrett sounds like someone who will burn a house down and claim not to understand why the owner is angry. “I’m here to talk about you.”
“I wasn’t aware that talking was your strong suit.”
“It’s not, but you were right. What you said weeks ago. I’ve turned a blind eye to so much, and I’m tired of keeping everyone’s secrets. Did you look at the boxes? Did you see?”
If Hiram has any feelings about that comment, he doesn’t let on. “I did.”
“The picture—”
“That was you?” He recoils. “What do you know?”
“I’ve been trying to talk to you since you got involved—”
“A man who’s made his career on speaking can’t talk to his own son.” Hiram chuckles bitterly. “The irony is astounding.”
“I know—”
Veda’s shoe squeaks on the wood, and both men turn to her. “Sorry, I was—”
“And you are?” Barrett asks, looking between them.
“Veda Thorne.” She makes no move to shake his hand.
Barrett gestures between her and Hiram. “Are you two together?”
Veda is too stunned to properly react.
Hiram remains impassive. “What did you want to tell me about the picture?”
“We should talk inside.”
They arrange themselves around the great room, waiting in silence until his father finally says, “I know more about the Botanist case than I’ve admitted. The Botanist is—”
“Ariadne Byers.”
His father looks shocked. “You know?”
“Yes, we talked to a member of the Oracle Council. They told us everything,” Veda replies, stomach twisting.
Barrett focuses on Hiram. “They told you? That must mean the oath—”
“Is broken,” Hiram finishes.
His father looks relieved. “Then you understand why your grandfather suppressed the news.”
Veda wasn’t expecting that revelation. Her wide eyes slide to Hiram, only to find him frowning. “Why would he do that? Ariadne—”
“Is your cousin. She’s Phillip’s daughter. Not officially—he would never admit to fathering a Seer, but it was bound to come back to us the moment she started talking. The family would excommunicate him, cut him off. It wouldn’t be a good look for the family.”
A heaviness visibly settles on Hiram. It fills the room, tugging at Veda’s emotions and bargaining with her empathy, but that doesn’t stop her inner thought from slipping out, unfiltered: “Well, this is fucked up.”
“I thought you figured it out?”
“Not the part about why you wanted me to stay out of it. Thanks for the evidence. It’s shone a light on our fucked-up family,” Hiram replies coldly. “Who’s her mother?”
“One of Phillip’s . . . I don’t know what to call them, but he’s fathered more children than I can count because of his obsession with having a Seer child.
When he found out Ariadne manifested Sight, he challenged her mother for custody and won, then brought her to the boarding school with all the other Seers.
He told her that he was her father and made her the star of his case studies.
She’s the one who’s being chronicled in the records.
When they caught her after she caused the Great Vanishing, Phillip didn’t claim the girl as his own, and your grandfather spearheaded the cover-up.
We all were part of the oath to keep it a secret.
I covered all traces of her case studies and carried the truth in silence.
My retirement wasn’t an accident; it was a choice.
I thought it was over until Phillip told me the truth in April, including—”
“The fact that she’s the one whose Sight he wanted to steal?”
Barrett nods.
“And what am I supposed to do with that?”
“Whatever you want. Release it to the media. I no longer care. I’ve covered him for years and refuse to protect him anymore.”
The talisman goes off again.
Veda jolts and Hiram swears, but bravado flees Barrett’s face, leaving behind pure terror.
This time, when Hiram answers the door, Veda is behind him, both of them relaxing at the sight of Khadijah, who doesn’t at all look happy to be there.
She peers around him at Veda, eyes narrowing curiously.
They will talk later, Veda is sure of it, but to Hiram, her friend says, “Peter’s with my uncle, and I’m here to babysit. ”
“What?”
Hiram’s phone rings. He grits his teeth before answering. Whatever is said sobers him instantly. He steps aside to let Khadijah in. “Apparently, I do need a babysitter.”
“What’s going on?” Veda asks.
“We need to go,” Hiram replies. “Good news: Everett was spotted near the school grounds. Bad news: Ariadne got to Moab.”
Veda feels sick thinking about his family. They’ll never be the same.
“You need to leave” is the first thing Hiram says to Barrett when they return to the great room.
The tension skyrockets as Khadijah comes around the corner and sees him. “What the—”
“I’m leaving.” Barrett stands, but before he leaves, he looks back—not at Hiram, at Khadijah. “Tell your uncle I’m sorry I never spoke up for him.”
Everyone is speechless when the door shuts behind Barrett.
Hiram starts the car and pulls out of the driveway. The ride is silent, tense, and uncomfortable. To Veda’s surprise, he is the one who breaks it.
“I planned for a more relaxed morning. Sorry.”
“You don’t owe me an apology.” Veda returns to looking out the window, thinking about what she witnessed before leaving: Hiram telling a sleepy Antaris that he’s coming back. “Do you tell him that you’ll always come back every time?”
“I do. It comforts him.”
Veda understands.
“I’ll admit I’m surprised at your reaction to meeting my father.”
“I was practicing restraint,” she deadpans.
“I’m shocked you know what that is,” Hiram says, tense yet playful.
Veda rolls her eyes. “I also didn’t think it would be appropriate to insult your dad without knowing if Antaris was awake and just staying in his room. The same went for you. I never talked bad about you in front of him. Even I have my limits.”
“Thanks.”
She glances at him. “Are you okay after what you just found out?”
“Were you okay after talking to Ruth?” he asks pointedly.
“Fair.” Veda has been sitting with what she’s learned and is far from being okay. Ruth has called her twice since they talked, and she can’t answer. Everly sent a message she hasn’t had the heart to read.
When they pull into the parking lot of Weston Academy, there are two cars parked outside. They get out, looking around, and something is . . . off. It’s too quiet. Hiram looks ready to gag as he starts for the front doors. “The magic is acrid.”
Veda grabs his arm and tugs him in a different direction. There’s a barrier gate on the side that vanishes once they’re inside. Spider lilies have sprouted everywhere. The way they shimmy oddly and glitch in the wind proves they aren’t real, instead created by Omnipotent magic.
Veda stops, then takes a nervous step over the first.
“Follow me,” Hiram says.
Less cautious but more observant, he walks ahead of Veda, careful to linger with each step.
He glances over his shoulder twice. The first time, Veda is stubbornly making her own way through the grass.
The second, she’s following in his footsteps.
Ahead, Marlene is setting up to analyze, and Gabriel and Francisco stand in the middle of the pasture, near Moab’s body, which is covered with a white sheet.
“Where have you checked for Everett?” Veda asks.
“The greenhouse and stables,” Francisco replies.
“There were signs he spent some time living with the horses. We don’t know when.
We’ve requested backup to search the forest, but everything has been going to hell at the office.
Our mole has opened a can of worms. So many are on desk duty for unethical activities that we now have an enforcer staffing problem. ”
“We also have a new problem,” Hiram announces, stopping all conversation.
“Ariadne Byers is the source of the Great Vanishing, my curser, possibly a friend of Grace’s, and the Botanist. She can take the form of anyone, and was a willing participant in the curse case studies Hiram’s uncle ran. Oh, and she’s Hiram’s cousin.” Veda turns to Hiram. “Does that cover it?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my Cosmos,” Francisco mutters.
“What else do we know?” Gabriel asks.
“Well, nothing can conceal cursed marks. Not even trickster pendants.” He taps his chin. “So you’re looking for someone with a mark from accidentally cursing her own blood along with Veda’s.”
“Speaking of tricksters, Everett said that tricksters fly,” Veda mentions. “Maybe he was being literal. The only birds I can think of as a trickster are a mockingbird—they mimic sounds in the environment—or the blue jay—they imitate hawk calls.”
Marlene jogs over, her pendant swinging. “I’m all set up for the testing.”
An incidental touch makes Veda’s vision blur, Marlene’s features twisting before they sharpen. She gasps so hard, she chokes.
“Are you okay?” Marlene asks, concerned.
Taking a harsh step back, Veda says, “You’re not Marlene.”
Silence crashes like a physical force.
Not-Marlene tilts her head, a bewildered look spreading across her features. “Of course I am.”
“No, you’re not.” Veda lunges forward, yanking the pendant from Marlene’s neck in one violent tug.
The blue jay transforms into a fox as the sky darkens to gray, then black.
Dark mist rises from the earth as Marlene’s features bleed and condense, stretch and shrink, twist and contort.
Her clothes hang looser, her hair grows longer, changing from black to brown, her limbs contracting.
The rich brown of her skin fades to fair.
There’s a tug, then a yank, before the pendant flies out of Veda’s hand, and a slim, manicured fist curls around it. Marlene is gone. In her place stands the person they’ve been looking for all along.
Ariadne.
Brown eyes shift into a flat, icy blue. “Not exactly the reveal I had in mind, but this will do.”
Ariadne’s words are laced with unbridled power. It spreads like a virus, infecting everything in its wake. Hiram yanks Veda back with enough force to make her stumble, but she’s not hit.
A black beam strikes Francisco in the stomach. Eyes wide, face twisting in pain, he clutches his chest and drops to his knees, blood pouring from wounds too fast to track.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for months. Let’s get started.”
The world is but a blaze of blinding light.