Chapter 34 Records and Revelations
RECORDS AND REVELATIONS
For the next week, I’m the definition of an exemplary prisoner student—or whatever the hell my role here is.
Confirming I’m truly an Elemental has changed everything for me.
I’m more determined, driven, and eager to understand and learn, so I don’t complain through meditation, echoes, or even shielding, though it’s an even bigger hellscape now that two or more are constantly in my head.
I try to focus as Edmond tells me another fact I won’t remember. His role here at Mysthaven has never been clearly defined—it’s one of a million things we don’t discuss—but at Lochlan’s insistence, he’s been teaching me about Bryxton’s government.
Eleven territories make up Bryxton, each governed by its own council of five. Above them sits the Accord, representatives from each territory who act as liaisons between the Territory Councils and the Queen’s High Council.
I trace over the image of the queen again, wondering how old she truly is despite appearing younger than thirty.
Edmond clears his throat, giving me a shrewd look that warns he knows I’m not paying attention.
“Is Lochlan a councilor?” I ask.
“Lochlan serves as head judiciary, overseeing escalated crimes across the territories.” He pauses. “He answers to the Council, which answers to the Accord, which answers to the Queen.” He pushes a list of the five Councilors from Lowick in front of me, replacing the page about the Queen’s Council.
I rub my temples. “Will there be a quiz? Because the names are all starting to run together.”
Edmond’s smile is equal parts amused and placating. “Why don’t you take a breather while I get us some tea?” He pushes back from his desk.
The once-invisible door opens, and Holden towers in the doorframe.
The sharp tension I used to feel around him has eased into something more manageable.
His gaze lowers to the books spread across Edmond’s desk and then to me. “I have something to show you,” he finally says. “If you’re interested.”
I wait for a condition. A catch.
He doesn’t say anything.
“What is it?”
He tips his head, silently inviting me into the room that I have obsessively questioned.
I stand and walk over. I’m slightly disappointed to find another office.
I was expecting something more incriminating.
It’s larger than Edmond’s, with what appears to be a lab in one corner and several shelves of books along the walls.
There are no windows because we’re in the middle of the house or close to it.
My gaze catches on the large desk covered in messy stacks of papers and strewn books.
He nods toward the lone couch. “For your longer study sessions.”
I glance at him, unsure what he’s offering. Once again it feels like a trap.
“That chair in his office is uncomfortable after twenty seconds,” he says, sitting behind the desk.
“Will Edmond see this as me bending the rules?”
Holden’s eyes laugh, though his mouth barely moves. I hate that I can read his emotions so easily, but like the other four, I’m becoming proficient at recognizing his moods and reactions. “That’s a risk you’ll have to weigh.”
I nearly smile.
Almost laugh.
Instead, I turn back to the messy desk. “How do you find anything in this chaos?”
“I was going over some records.” He points to a list. “You’ve been reading about prophecies for weeks. I thought you might want to compare notes.”
I blink, shocked by this offer.
He moves to a shelf and pulls down a thick, worn volume. The spine creaks as he sets it on the desk, opening it to a section marked with torn slips of paper. “Read this entry.” He traces a section with his forefinger, then steps back.
“Are these… Council records of Vestras?”
“Unedited ones.”
“Why do they keep them?” Why does he?
He stares at me but doesn’t respond.
I flip through the pages, searching for date stamps among the groupings of names. “How are some of these dates so recent? This book looks like it’s hundreds of years old?”
“Now you’re asking the right questions,” he says.
He pulls another book from the shelf, stopping on a page with scribbled handwriting and sketched diagrams.
“Do you trust the Council?”
Those dark eyes meet mine again, and he frowns. “You know the answer to that.”
“But you all work for them.”
His jaw feathers—a subtle clench that betrays more than he intends. “You either serve power, hide from power, or overcome power.” He runs a hand over another passage. “We chose the first.”
I don’t know why his answer makes something inside me bristle—whether it’s because he’s admitting to serving a system that seems tainted, or because it makes them sound like they’ve already surrendered.
His dark hair falls across his forehead as he sorts through more records. “This one has older accounts. Read the notes in the margins.” His gaze lingers on mine a moment longer than it should. Then, with a slow exhale, he slides it toward me. “Pay attention to what’s missing.”
I settle onto the couch but pause before opening it. “Speaking of missing, I’ve been reading through Edmond’s prophecy collection, and I noticed a nine-year gap—the longest gap before that was only fourteen months. Do you know why prophecies would have stopped being recorded?”
His brow furrows. “Nine years?”
I nod.
He leans back, thoughtful, but clearly not concerned or unsettled. “It could mean that they weren’t significant enough to record. They might also have been delayed.” He grabs a pen. “Still a good catch.”
I’m probably going to question my sanity later, but I lean back, making myself comfortable, and start reading.
The next day, when my lesson with Edmond concludes, Holden opens the door in the corner. “I have another book for you,” he says, looking at me.
Edmond blinks. I can’t tell if he’s surprised or quietly resigned by this new development.
“I’m going to use his couch so I can spread out a little more,” I awkwardly explain as I gather my things.
“Until he discovers you hum when you read,” Edmond murmurs in a tone I don’t know well enough to understand if he’s teasing or condemning.
“A fact I’m well aware of,” Holden says flatly. He turns, already halfway back to his office before I’ve collected myself.
The door clicks shut behind me, though I didn’t touch it.
Holden’s desk is as chaotic as it was yesterday—piles of books, scribbled notes in two different inks, and three half-finished cups of coffee.
“This one’s going to take a few weeks,” he says, handing me a thick tome. “Start on page forty-seven. I’ve bookmarked it. Ignore the margins. The reader’s ego outweighed his intelligence.”
I stifle a smile as I accept the book.
“Holden, do you have—” Gwen pauses mid-step, a clear vial in one hand. Her gaze slides from Holden to me. “Well, well. I’m glad to see you’re finally collecting keys to the castle.”
“More like supervision disguised as collaboration.”
Her rich, boisterous laugh fills the air. “I think it might be your wit and intellect,” she says. “And probably a few other things….” She winks at me.
My cheeks flare at the insinuation, making her laughter grow before she crosses to Holden’s desk, offering him the vial. “This is the fire-reactive tinctures.”
“Perfect.”
Gwen turns to face me. “Remember, it’s gremlin night. Don’t stay too long.” It’s a tradition she, Scarlet, and I have carved out every Wednesday night.
“An hour. Tops.”
She glances at Holden. “Be sure to remind her.”
“I’m not her timekeeper,” he says before the door closes behind her.
I nearly scoff, turning to the page he suggested, because he absolutely is my timekeeper.
“What’s gremlin night?” he asks after a few minutes.
“A night of absolute laziness. You’d hate it.” I flip another page.
He studies me. “Why’s that?”
“You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys being mindlessly lazy.”
“You’d be surprised at what I’m capable of tolerating.”
His words spark an endless array of questions, but before I can figure out if I want to ask any of them, he leans back in his chair and asks, “What did you think of the book I assigned last week?”
“You’d know if you took the time to read the essay I turned in.”
He doesn’t react to my sass or withering look.
The book he assigned was about Cosmic, Soul, and Selected Bonds and the Convergence Ceremonies.
There were limited references to mates, the information focused on the strength, power, and dynamics of a bonded Vestra.
“It mentioned that you will sometimes share powers when the bond forms. Is that something you have a choice over?”
“No.”
“And that some will gain new strengths or abilities.”
A single nod.
“Do Titans or Fae have Vestras? Is it tapping into one heritage over another?”
He shakes his head.
“What about Mates?”
“Fae have Soul Mates. They’re not as rare as Elementals, but uncommon, nonetheless. And Titans are never monogamous.”
“Have you come across any recorded Soul Mates in the council records?” I ask.
“No.” His response is definitive, but not dismissive. “It’s been over a hundred years since a Soul Mate bond.”
I scratch at a spot on my neck, uncomfortable asking questions, but too damn intrigued to stop. “Do you think the records may be incomplete?”
He steeples his long, broad fingers. “Incomplete implies oversight.”
“Or omission.”
Another long pause.
“Are we required to attend the Veil Eclipse?” I ask.
“Not technically, but it wouldn’t go unnoticed.”
“Will Daire’s and Griffin’s runes conceal their imprints?” Most days, I wouldn’t question their power or strength, but from everything I’ve read about the eclipse, it nullifies all magic.
“We have no idea.”
“But you’ve been to a Veil Eclipse. Did your other runes work?” I don’t know what the other runes I originally mistook as tattoos do, only that they exist.
“Continue reading, Miss Breslin.”
I stare at the words but all I hear his voice: You either serve power, hide from power, or overcome power.