House of Curses, page 10
“Lady Darby,” Trask said. “Might we walk?”
“Of course,” Darby said freely. She shot Kerrigan one last look and then disappeared with her fiancé.
“Shall we?” March asked, offering her his hand.
She was supposed to be feigning that she was falling for him. Not quite besotted, but at least interested, and it was nearly impossible to maintain that right now while she was on the edge of panic.
But she put her hand against his sleeve without grimacing and began to promenade. For a moment, neither said anything as they strolled past the shops.
“I confess that I was anxious to see you again,” March said.
“Were you?”
“Of course. I wish to spend more time with you, Kerrigan.”
She forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s lovely.”
“And to that effect, I thought about our conversation and went ahead with a plan for your election.”
Kerrigan furrowed her brow, not understanding. “What do you mean?”
“Precisely what I said. I have money and influence. I have arranged to throw a party to help with your election to the council. Invitations went out this morning.” He slid one out of his coat and passed it to her.
She stared down at the precise calligraphy with dismay. He clearly wanted her to gush over him and thank him profusely for his help, but she still felt too uneasy to manage it. And the date … was the night before her eighteenth name day. Well, before the day they all thought was her eighteenth at least. She certainly wasn’t informing him about her real celebration.
“This is right before my name day.”
“Yes. I thought it would be fitting to have a sort of second party. I knew you would have your own festivities on the day, but I thought we could celebrate together like this.”
He looked so earnest. He was an incredible actor. He had nearly fooled her before the winter holiday until his plans began to unravel and the real Ashby March revealed himself. She couldn’t entirely believe his bullshit right now, but at the same time, she sort of needed this party. She didn’t have another option.
But she hated every single thing that brought her closer to him.
“That sounds wonderful,” she finally admitted. “Thank you.”
His smile bloomed like a sunflower in the Bryonican countryside. “Anything for my lady.”
14
The History
Audria fluttered a piece of paper in her face later in the week. “Look what I just received.”
Kerrigan groaned. “I don’t want to know.”
“Well, it’s not a wedding invitation, mind you. I am still waiting for that.”
If it were up to Kerrigan, there would be no invitations. But Kerrigan had been pretending that marrying March wasn’t the last thing in the world she wanted to do. Audria knew she wasn’t thrilled, but Fordham was gone. Even she seemed to have moved on.
“I’m sure they’ll go out soon,” she said.
They headed into a history lesson with Mistress Movanna and took their seats. Roake hadn’t arrived yet, and Movanna was buried beneath a mound of dusty texts. Kerrigan didn’t want to be having this conversation with Audria right now. As close as they had become in the last year, she was still Bryonican nobility to her core.
“You know what this is. It’s a party invitation at the House of Medallion Row estate, Kerrigan.”
She sighed. “Yes, March is hosting an election event for me.”
“That’s nice of him.”
Kerrigan cut her a look. “Is that what you really think?”
“Well, I think he’s trying to get in your good graces. Which, I admit, are hard to come by. You are naturally reticent toward everyone.”
“It’s almost like I have a reason to be that way.”
Audria’s face softened. “That’s true. I didn’t mean it the way that it sounded.”
“It’s fine.” She waved her off just as Roake entered the room.
He slumped into a seat and yawned. His eyes drooped. “Morning,” he grumbled.
“Why are you always so tired?” Audria asked.
“Master Gavilin has me working through the magic regulation laws from sunup to sundown. Have any questions about thousand-year-old regulatory law? I can probably help you now. It’s a lot to cram in.”
Audria laughed. “Well, at least you’re succeeding in your apprenticeship. My healing is as abysmal as ever.”
They looked to Kerrigan, and she shrugged. “My apprenticeship has been primarily theoretical so far. I’ve been reading governmental texts, taking long walks to discuss them, and sort of arguing with Master Bastian.”
“Arguing with him?” Audria asked in surprise.
“Not in a bad way. He encourages me to debate with him the benefit and consequence to everything I’ve read about. He doesn’t let me be satisfied with the official answer. He wants me to stretch my brain to think for myself.”
Roake snorted. “As if you don’t already.”
Kerrigan grinned. “Well, he’s making me better at it at least. I’ve never had a teacher quite like him. Everything is up for debate. I never really know what he actually believes. We go around in circles until my head spins.”
“Sounds manipulative,” Audria said.
“Well, I suppose it could be. I find it fascinating.”
Mistress Movanna appeared from behind the stacks. She blinked behind enormous spectacles. “Oh, hello there. You’re here for a lesson today?”
Roake snorted and threw his head back, ready to sleep through the class. Movanna was scatterbrained at best. She found anything after the Great War, a thousand years ago, to be too modern for her. Kerrigan liked her eccentricity.
“Yes, Mistress Movanna,” Kerrigan said.
“Where were we in our discussions exactly?” she said, rifling through her paperwork. “Ah, the Irena Bargain.”
“Again?” Audria groaned.
The Irena Bargain was the foundation for the formation of the Society. Historically, the tale was told that a great Fae maiden had gone into the heart of the beast to slay the great dragon Ferrinix but made a different call. Instead of killing him, she bonded with the dragon and became the first dragon rider. After that, the Fae and the dragons agreed to work together, so long as the bonding remained. The twelve tribes had put forth representatives to start the Society and maintain the peace between the tribes and the dragons from then on.
Of course, realistically, there were hundreds of Fae tribes, and very little was actually known about Irena and the first dragon bonding. The bargain she had made was lost to legend. Though it was Movanna’s main focus of study.
Kerrigan raised her hand, and Movanna blinked at her.
“Mistress Kerrigan?”
“I know we were going to discuss Irena,” she said, “but could we talk about magical artifacts instead?”
Movanna tilted her head. “Magical artifacts?”
“Yes. I wasn’t sure how much you knew about them. We’ve come up against them in battle, and I believe we’d all be better off, having a more thorough understanding about them.”
Roake sat up in his chair, suddenly interested. Audria shot her a surprised look but then nodded her agreement.
“Well,” Movanna said, her gazing shifting to the door and then back to her students, “we don’t typically discuss the illegal.”
“I understand, but we need to know more to do our jobs.”
Movanna slammed the giant book she had been reading closed. She grunted something unintelligible and then disappeared through the back door. Audria and Kerrigan shared a glance in confusion.
Then, Movanna returned, dropping a manuscript onto the desk. “Aha, I knew I had it.” She waved a hand to clear the dust and then leafed through the document. “You want to know more about magical artifacts? Well, let’s begin at the beginning. Tell me what you already know of them.”
“They come from the south,” Roake interjected.
“Yes, yes, the south.”
“From nonmagical tribes,” Audria added. Roake glared at her, and she held her hands up. “Sorry. The tribes who historically did not wish to use their magic.”
“Yes, traditionally from Elsiande, Aude, and Genoa,” Movanna said.
“Some of them are still legal. Many people use honeycombs pretty regularly,” Kerrigan offered.
“And what do honeycombs do?”
“They house excess magic,” Audria said. “We use them in particularly difficult healings.”
“Precisely. Anything else?”
The three of them looked around the room and shrugged.
“They’re dangerous,” Kerrigan said.
Roake sighed but couldn’t disagree. “We fought some in the battle.”
“What kind?” Movanna asked.
“Black orbs that created smoke and shadows and made you sick,” Roake said.
“Ones that cast illusions,” Audria said, looking green.
“An amber orb that incapacitated everyone with an uttered word in Ancient Fae,” Kerrigan said.
“Historically, we classify magical artifacts as offensive, defensive, and special. Offensive artifacts are like the ones you witnessed in battle. There are ones that work defensively too. Some that make shields without using your reserves or dispel all arrows in the sky. As well as special pieces that were created for specific purposes.”
Kerrigan leaned forward at those words. Special artifacts had to be like the Collector.
“What could the purpose be for those?” Audria asked.
“It depended on what the user wanted. I’ve read about some that could be used to make people tell the truth or swear an unbreakable oath. There was one in my youth that forced the feelings of true love for a period of time. They can be used for all manner of things. It’s all in the shaping of the magical work. Now that you know of the various kinds of artifacts, let’s discuss the history of it.”
Movanna pulled the manuscript up and pointed at a map of Alandria. It was a large island continent, cleaved down the middle with mountains and ending in the middle with Draco Mountain.
“You said that all magical artifacts came from the south.” She pointed at the rocky outcropping of modern-day Elsiande at the very end of the continent. “And that it was used to expel their magic, correct?”
They nodded. As far as they knew, as that was all they had been told.
“What if I told you that the first known artifact came from here?” She pointed at a mountain on the western portion of the Vert Mountains. A very recognizable mountain.
“The Holy Mountain?” Kerrigan asked. That was where the dragons were from. It was the source of Tendrille, the rarest metal in the world and immune to magic.
“Yes. It was created out of Tendrille and supposedly used in a bonding ceremony.”
Everyone was silent. That was beyond historically inaccurate. Irena was the first person to have that bonding. And it was done within Ravinia Mountain, the seat of the House of Shadows. Not at Holy Mountain.
Movanna smiled. “Truthfully, we don’t know, but based on the historical record of the time, the first artifact we have knowledge of was this metal crown.” She turned the page to reveal a jagged crown. Both beautiful and terrifying. “We have it in the vault beneath the mountain, and terrible things have happened to those who tried to use it. What does this tell us about our understanding?”
“It’s all wrong,” Audria said slowly.
“They don’t come from the south. They came from everywhere.”
“But they do come from the south,” Roake argued. Considering he was from Elsiande, he would know best. “I know magical artifact workers.”
“Legal artifacts now primarily do come from the south. But historically, everyone was making them. And it wasn’t a repository for their magic; it was a way to use more than just our elemental magic. No matter what artifact you had, all of it was shaped by the proper intention of the user who created it.”
Kerrigan startled at that word—intention.
That was the word that Cleora had used. Focusing intention was the only way that crux could be manipulated properly. This couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Why are they now illegal,” Audria asked, “if everyone was making them?”
“Ah, the Great War,” Movanna said animatedly. “The House of Shadows used weapons that decimated troops. Many lives were lost, and the Society retaliated in kind. But at the end of the war, when we won, the Society decided to no longer allow weapons that could cause such destruction. There was a campaign to round up all artifacts that were now considered illegal, destroy those that could be destroyed, and put the rest away into the vault. We have enough ways to kill each other as far as I’m concerned. It was the right decision despite seeing some of them back in the world again.”
“Could people be making more?” Kerrigan asked. “Is that why we’re seeing them again?”
“It is unlikely. The books were burned,” Movanna said with a wince. “Any evidence of how to create them from the greats was lost. Only legal information is still freely distributed.”
“But what if all the books weren’t burned?” Kerrigan said.
“It is possible,” Movanna said pensively. “I feel it’s more likely that they retained old artifacts when they were initially rounded up.”
Audria and Roake asked a string of additional questions, but Kerrigan was off in her head. She could now see the path for how the Red Masks had gotten that many artifacts into the hands of the House of Shadows. They had found a way to create new magical artifacts. The Collector might be ancient, but the ones they had fought during the battle were likely new models.
She didn’t feel any closer to finding the Collector, but while she waited for a dispensation from the council, she at least had more knowledge. And knowledge was power.
After class, she headed back up to her rooms to work on the paper that Movanna had assigned about the artifacts. Benton and Bayton had lunch spread out in the dining area when she arrived.
“Thank you so much,” she said with a sigh. “How has your day been?”
“We spoke to Mistress Helly, as directed, and she is in the process of certifying our place in your household. She said paperwork would be sent to you, and then we would get a stipend from your salary,” Benton said.
“Which is unnecessary,” Bayton said. “We love our new life, miss—Kerrigan. We don’t need our own money.”
She waved this same old argument off. Soon, she’d have the entire House of Cruse behind her. She could afford to pay them, and she had every intention of doing so. “You’re getting paid regardless.”
Benton shot Bayton a look that said, Drop it, and came forward. “We also received this letter.”
Kerrigan winced, anticipating the same letter Audria had been waving around with excitement. She didn’t need an invitation to her own party, but she didn’t put it past March to do it. As if she needed the reminder.
But when Kerrigan looked at it, she didn’t recognize the carefully scrawled handwriting, and there was no return address.
“Thank you.”
She ripped it open and read through it once, her eyes going wide.
The letter was no more than a handful of lines in an unfamiliar scrawl.
It should have meant so little.
Yet it meant so much.
Arbor and Prescott had made it out of Lethbridge.
15
The Letter
Kerrigan grabbed her cloak without another word and raced out of the mountain.
Arbor and Prescott weren’t in the House of Shadows. Somehow, the two of them had made it into Kinkadia.
As they were Fordham’s closest family, she had gotten to know them well in the weeks that she was at court in Ravinia Mountain. They were an odd pair, but their affection for Fordham was unmatched. If they were reaching out to her, then she felt obligated to respond.
She came upon the apartment just large enough for two above a chocolatier shop in Central. It wasn’t much, but it was better than most refugees could manage. From what she had heard, the majority of half-Fae and humans were crowding the already-crowded Dregs. But Arbor and Prescott were neither half-Fae nor human. They were full-blooded Fae nobles.
It had taken her a half hour of moving through the streets and backtracking to make sure that she wasn’t being followed before she located the apartment. March was clearly watching her, and the last thing she wanted was for him to discover this particular secret.
Kerrigan trekked up the stairs and then knocked twice on the faded blue door. A pair of bright blue eyes, set in dark features, appeared on the other side of the door. For a moment, Kerrigan couldn’t stop staring. The face was so similar to Fordham’s in so many ways. The chiseled jawline, the black hair, the hardened expression. Only those blue eyes were wrong. He should have had thunderclouds in his irises, not the ocean.
“Kerrigan,” Prescott said with a sharp smile.
He drew the door wider, and she got a full look at him in a fine black shirt and fitted pants. The bounce to his step had never left despite whatever they had gone through to get here.
“I came at once,” she said with a smile. She held the letter up as proof.
“Come in,” he said, opening the door wider.
She stepped inside the sparse apartment. It was hardly large enough for the grandeur of the pair. With a few small chairs, rough around the edges, and an open door revealed one bedroom beyond with a bed low to the floor. Arbor was seated on a chair when she entered. Her face brightened as she caught sight of Kerrigan. She rose to her full height. Her raven hair was loose to her curvy waist. She wore a House of Shadows black-and-silver dress and bright red lips.
“Kerrigan,” Arbor said, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around her.
Kerrigan hugged Fordham’s cousin in shock. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
Arbor brushed a stray tear from her eye. “Neither can we.”
“How did this happen? Your letter was so short.”
