Chapter 19 #3
His hands twisted together in his lap, restless. “Addie started looking into it. At first, she told me it was just curiosity, but the way she talked about Brida… I think it was more than that. It was like she’d found some puzzle that didn’t fit into the picture of the world she knew. And Addie—”
“She has never been able to walk away from a puzzle,” I finished for him, my chest tightening at the memory of Brida saying the same thing about her aunt.
Addie’s hunger for answers, her refusal to leave questions unanswered—it was legendary, even to me.
There had been one instance where Brida had written her a letter asking what she believed to be a simple answer.
Addie sent back twelve books in response, with an accompanying index for each of them to assist in helping Brida decipher it.
Edrick nodded, his expression softening for just a moment. “Exactly.”
The room fell silent, save for the faint tapping of his foot against the threadbare carpet. I could feel the weight of the unspoken words hanging between us, pressing down like a gathering storm.
“When’s the last time you saw Addie, Edrick?” I finally asked, resting my elbows on my knees. I felt for this man. The expression of grief on his face, buried just beneath the surface. As if the truth were trying to escape, but something kept it at bay.
“It’s been a few days. She was called away to finish working on her project, but she’ll be back any day now.” He rubbed the tops of his thighs, reassuring himself as Iona got up and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Edrick, in the meantime, Kadian has been searching for something that Brida gave to Addie. Brida has been sent to Mount Kaiver with Prince Alvar and has asked Kadian to retrieve it. It can’t wait.”
“I see, I see.” He said as he rose from his seat, making his way towards the door. “Well, if that’s the case, then I think it best that you come with me.”
???
How exactly did I end up here? Dragged down a long, dimly lit corridor by Iona Sorren and her half-brother, Edrick. Edrick seemed like a decent enough man—unfortunately, he was saddled with the genetic baggage that was Iona.
“Is there any way you could make less noise?” Iona shot a sharp glare over her shoulder, her voice laced with irritation. The kindness she’d extended to Edrick was limited to him, and him alone.
“I’m doing my best here, your almost-majesty,” I muttered, hugging the cold stone wall as closely as I could. Edrick told us to stick to the shadows, something Iona said she could do well, but laughed when Edrick looked at me.
“He has no idea what he’s doing.” She muttered as she followed him out of the room. Maybe at some point, I’d be able to prove her wrong.
In an instant, Iona whirled around to face me. Her intensity was startling, though entirely predictable. “I understand there are things you may hate about me. I’m sure there are plenty of reasons you don’t want to work with me or even be in the same vicinity as me right now.”
Her lips tightened, but she pushed on, “But don’t, for one second, assume you know the whole story.
You don’t know me, Kadian Taldot. You know fragments—shards.
They are only pieces of the whole. And while this may pain us both, and I do question your judgment, I don’t assume to know you. Not entirely.”
Without waiting for a reply, she spun on her heel and stalked back to Edrick, threading her arm through his. He glanced back at me, offering a faint smile that somehow managed to be both sympathetic and weary, knowing this kind of confrontation was par for the course with Iona.
Swallowing the lump in my throat and unclenching my fists, I knew she was right.
It was nearly impossible to see with the fires burning out and there being no natural light, something I had hoped for.
Without Iona’s help, I wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes before getting caught—or worse, wandering aimlessly until dawn.
Whatever her motives, Iona was helping me, and I had to grit my teeth and accept it.
I stayed silent, though questions churned in my head.
Iona and Edrick walked close together, their bond evident in their stances, their tones, the way they just were with each other.
They were close. Closer than Flora and I ever were.
I loved my sister, but we didn’t share that kind of connection.
They reminded me more of… Brida and me. That thought hit harder than I wanted it to, and I sighed aloud without meaning to.
The sound earned me another sharp glare from Iona.
“Sorry,” I mouthed, holding my hands up to offer a truce. I managed to make it the rest of the way without any notable offenses.
We stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, and Edrick pushed it open, the creak of its hinges echoing through the cold, damp space beyond. The room smelled of stone and disuse. Hooks lined the walls, each bearing a simple beige robe.
“I think this will be easier if you two blend in,” Edrick said as he reached for one of the robes, handing it to Iona first.
She accepted it with a smile that was almost more fang than sincerity. “Are you implying that I don’t blend in?”
“Outside of a fire, I’m not sure you blend in anywhere,” I quipped, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Iona’s murderous gaze landed on me, but Edrick chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“Sorry,” I muttered, barely catching myself in time.
If this mission had any chance of success, I would need to master the art of not speaking.
Channel my inner Brida. Not Lil, Lil would tell Iona to fuck off. Channel Brida.
Edrick handed me a robe next. “Put the hood up,” he instructed, his tone serious.
“We can’t afford anyone recognizing two members of the Court of Shadows wandering around down here.
While you all are welcome above,” he gestured to the library above us, “it would be questionable and suspicious to see you down here.”
Nodding, I pulled the rough fabric over my head, the robe swallowing me.
“Most of the scribes should be asleep by now,” Edrick continued in hushed tones, “since they rise before dawn. But we can never be too sure. There is always the odd person wandering around, unable to sleep.”
Iona and I each nodded, falling into line behind Edrick.
“Addie’s room is in the eastern wing. It’s bigger down here than it looks from the maps.”
I nodded again, my thoughts flicking to Brida. Is this how she always feels? Lost, trying to figure out where she’s going?
“To my knowledge, no one’s been in her quarters. No one’s touched her things. Everything she’s been compiling since the Courting began should still be there,” Edrick finished, his voice low but certain.
Pulling the robe over my head, I could feel the rough fabric catch on my hair as it settled around my shoulders like a reminder of what I was about to do.
My heart and mind fought against each other, a chaotic tugging of spirit and thought.
This wasn’t my right. Addie’s belongings weren’t mine to sift through, to take, to claim.
But if she were here—if she knew it could help give the answers for why Rai had snapped, maybe where Marsh had taken Brida—she’d understand, wouldn’t she?
She’d grant me access, maybe even insist on it.
At least, that’s what I told myself. Edrick giving his permission felt like the next best thing, though it didn’t stop the gnawing guilt from spreading from my gut to my chest.
I wondered, not for the first time this night, if Brida knew about Edrick.
About Addie having someone in her life. Brida and Addie had always been close.
But had Addie shared this part of herself?
Had Brida? These recent months had been a strange haze, and I wasn’t sure Brida had let anyone truly in—not even me.
I shifted uncomfortably in the robe, the weight of it pressing on me like the weight of my failures.
Brida and I had made a pact when we came here, like we always did: to look out for each other.
She had upheld her end of the bargain with her usual quiet determination.
And me? I had failed. Miserably. Addie was gone, her absence a raw wound that throbbed in every corner of this place.
Edrick, heartbroken and hollow-eyed, was a reminder of that failure.
Brida was somewhere out there, carrying the images of Addie collapsing to the floor, Alvar’s death.
I hadn’t been there to shield her from it. And Lil? Lil was with Dainan.
Dainan. A Luchien. A prince, brother to the murdering bastard, Rai. Lil had warned us of the three of them before the first trial. We should have listened and turned back.
“Snap out of it,” Iona barked, her voice cutting through the fog in my head. I blinked, startled, as her hand snapped in front of my face. Her sharp fingers were relentless, dragging me out of the spiral I hadn’t realized I’d been sinking into.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kadian. Snap out of it.”
Her hands clamped down on my shoulders, fingers digging in just enough to hurt. My gaze finally met hers, and the haze in my mind started to clear. My heart was still racing, but at least now it felt like I was tethered to reality again.
“There you are,” she muttered, her voice dropping an octave, her tone less cutting but no less firm. “It was clear you’d wandered off somewhere. If we’re going to do this, we need to be sure you’re with us. Can you do this?”
Her eyes burned with an intensity I hadn’t noticed before.
A deep, flickering red flame sparked behind her irises, so subtle it could’ve been a trick of the dim light—or something much more dangerous.
I avoided looking at Iona too closely most of the time; she wasn’t someone you stared at for too long unless you wanted to feel like prey.
There was a lethal beauty about her, sharp and unyielding, like staring into the sun until it scorched your retinas.
I had to bite back a laugh at the thought. She would eat Oz alive.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, dragging a hand across my damp forehead. “Sometimes I find my mind drifts off, and it’s hard to pull it back. Been happening a lot these past few months.”
“Of course it has,” she said, her tone softening just slightly as she released my shoulders and took a step back. Her hands brushed over her robes like she was wiping off the contact, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Hopefully, we’ll have some more answers in a few hours.”
“You really don’t know how to comfort people, do you?” I let myself laugh, the sound dry but genuine.
“I’m not a natural-born comforter. Well, unless it’s for him.” She tilted her head toward her brother, who was still fussing with his robe. “Only he gets to see the best sides of me.”
“And why is that, exactly?” I asked, more curious than I probably should’ve been.
Iona hesitated, the crackling flame in her eyes dimming just a little as she studied me.
Whatever she was about to say, it wasn’t an answer she handed out lightly.
Finally, she leaned in, her voice low and deliberate.
“What you have with Brida,” she said, her words barely audible, “that’s what I have with him. ”
I swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling heavily in the space between us. Iona straightened, her expression unreadable as she turned and walked to Edrick’s side, leaving me with more questions than answers.
“He is my guiding light, the star that calls me home. The best of us.” She turned to face him, her face softening.
“Now,” she said briskly, her voice carrying across the room, “shall we get going? Can’t let this robe go to waste.
I’m not sure I’ve ever looked better. Even though black is really my color. ”
Edrick glanced at us both, his brow furrowing slightly. “Typically, scribes don’t travel in groups of three. I’ll walk ahead, and the two of you can follow. It’ll be less suspicious that way.”
“It’s unusual for three but not for two?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“How many scribes do you think are inviting a third partner into their bed?” Iona quipped over her shoulder. “Of course, two is the more common number. The third partner would more likely be a parchment.”
“Or a book,” Edrick added in agreement.
I groaned, lifting a hand to rub at my temples. She was going to kill me. Slowly. “That’s a bold assumption, Iona. You have no idea what people get up to in the dark—or down here, for that matter.”
Edrick surprised me by glancing back, a smile tugging at his lips.
Iona blinked, stunned into silence, and for one glorious moment, I relished it. Edrick took advantage of her quiet to lay out the rest of the plan, his voice calm and measured, as if we weren’t all teetering on the edge of disaster.
Small victories. I’d take them where I could.