by Eva Chase
“If people are scared of saying anything on their own, let them know when the time comes, we’ll arrange groups where they can speak together,” Malcolm added. “We’re all in this—no one is going to face the barons alone.”
Anthony had stayed near the front of the group. His gaze slid over the three of us, his mouth slanting at an uncertain angle. “Even if we all protest, and our families too—if the barons won’t even listen to the five of you, do you really think they’ll listen to us?”
I could feel the attention of everyone in the room sharpening at that question. My stomach knotted. I offered the only honest answer I could.
“I don’t know. But it’s worth a try—there’s always hope. And the last thing we’d want to do is skip ahead to the steps we’ll have to take if they don’t listen.”
Chapter Three
Rory
Jude rarely looked happier than when he was behind the wheel of his Mercedes, cruising at top speed along a highway. Even so, as we got closer to our destination, I noticed that his knuckles were starting to whiten where he gripped the wheel. He tapped his free foot restlessly, out of sync with the jazz music he’d tuned the radio to.
I turned down the volume a little so I wouldn’t need to raise my voice. “How much have you seen of your uncle, anyway?”
Jude shrugged. “Not a lot. My ‘father’ never trusted him—obviously, or the baron wouldn’t have gone to such extreme measures to manufacture himself a supposed heir. We had mind-numbing holiday visits a few times a year while their mother was still around, where hardly anyone really talked to each other. After she passed, their father started spending most of his time overseas traveling around… I think it’s been three years since I last even saw the guy.”
“But you think he’s at least a bit less of a jerk than Baron Killbrook?”
“He at least wasn’t enough of an asshole to get offended by the way the baron treated him. And I never saw any sign that he was actually scheming to get a seat at the table. Of course, it could turn out my impressions were totally off-base.” He shot me a flash of a grin. “That’s why it’s a good thing I have a bodyguard along.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but the truth was I had insisted on joining him on this trip partly to watch out for him. Jude was clever and quick and charming when he wanted to be, but his damaged magical abilities put him at a huge disadvantage compared to any member of a barony family. I intended to make sure his uncle treated him fairly—and that Jude didn’t get any self-sacrificing ideas in his head like he had when we’d turned to the joymancers to interrupt the barons’ takeover of the town off campus.
I’d also come along so any offer he made would carry more weight. We were essentially going to ask Hector Killbrook to commit treason against his brother. I had to imagine he’d be a lot more willing to consider the idea if he saw that the other scions supported the move too.
“Does he have kids of his own?” I asked. A family the barons could threaten would also factor into the man’s decision.
Jude nodded. “A daughter… I think she’s eight now? Hector is ten years younger than the baron, so his side of the family is a little behind on the whole heirs thing. The wife and the daughter didn’t usually come along even when we were having the periodic dinners. I can’t remember their names.” He rubbed his forehead.
“Well, I guess don’t mention that part. We’ll just do our best.” It was a weird balance between hoping the guy we were going to visit would be ambitious enough to like the idea of having some say in the barony but not so ambitious he’d screw Jude over to get at it.
Hector Killbrook might not have lived in a baron-style mansion, but the home we arrived at on the fringes of a small city wasn’t that much smaller, with its own privacy wall and gate, gleaming white columns on either side of the massive oak door, and a castle-like air that was simply a smidge less foreboding than the Bloodstone residence. I decided I’d take that as a good sign.
Jude parked the Mercedes and then appeared to hesitate about leaving it, as if he thought there was some small chance he’d be able to conduct this meeting in the relative security of his car. He shook his lean frame and got out with a determined huff of breath.
He’d called ahead to make sure his uncle would be in when we arrived. A housekeeper opened the door and ushered us into a large sitting room that held a few loveseats and chairs, a card table, and a baby grand piano. The furnishings were stately and in a classic style as with most of the fearmancer residences I’d been in, but this family had gone for a lighter color scheme, the wood maple rather than mahogany or cherry, the fabrics pale earth tones. A softly sweet scent drifted from a delicate floral arrangement in a vase on a sideboard.
“Mr. Killbrook should be down in about ten minutes,” the housekeeper said, and bustled off with no apparent worry about how we’d use the space unsupervised. I supposed she trusted that a couple of scions wouldn’t trash the place.
Jude’s gaze had lingered on the piano. “That’s a nice one,” he said with an eager flex of his fingers. “I wonder if any of them actually play or if it’s just for show.”
I smiled. Music was Jude’s most secret passion, one he’d only really shared with me—which given his skill was a real shame. “You could check how well tuned it is,” I suggested.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Now you’re just leading me into temptation.” But after a moment he wandered over and tested a few of the keys.
The rich notes sounded good enough to my uneducated ears. Apparently they satisfied Jude too. He sat down on the bench and let his fingers fly into a classical piece I recognized but couldn’t have named off the top of my head.
I doubted he’d have let himself indulge if he hadn’t assumed we’d be alone for a little while, but he couldn’t have been playing for more than a minute when the floor creaked in the hall outside. A slender man with flax-blond hair and a trim beard came to a stop on the threshold and leaned against the doorframe.
“That’s a difficult piece,” he said. “You play it well.”
Jude’s hands jarred to a stop over the keys. He swiveled around and stood up with a hint of a flush coloring his cheeks. “Uncle Hector. I’m sorry—I thought we had a little time to kill.”
“It’s all right. Stella plays it but not anything all that complex yet. It’s a pleasure hearing the instrument put to full use. I didn’t know you’d taken up music lessons.”
Stella must be his daughter. Jude shrugged, putting on his usual nonchalance, although his eyes gleamed with the compliment. “Just something to fill the time between my studies at the university.”
Hector motioned to the nearby chairs, with a tip of his head to acknowledge me as well. “Why don’t we all sit down, and you two tell me what this is about?”
I settled into an armchair next to Jude, watching the man carefully. He had a similar reserved demeanor to his baron brother, but it felt more relaxed. Baron Killbrook gave me a twitchy vibe. I couldn’t tell yet whether that difference was necessarily good or bad.
Jude was eyeing the man with similar wariness. “How much do you know about what the barons are up to these days?” he asked.
Hector stiffened slightly at the question. “If this is business to do with the barony, I think you’d be better off taking it up with your father. My getting involved in those matters is just asking for trouble.”
Jude and I exchanged a glance. That didn’t sound like the comment of a man who was gunning for his family’s power, but rather one who’d accepted it wasn’t his and had no designs on it. Who knew how his attitude might change if he realized the barony was within his grasp, but I’d rather see him hesitant than over-eager.
“The thing is,” Jude said, “I can’t talk to my father about this. My father—and his cohorts—are the problem. We’re hoping you might be willing to take on some of that trouble to help us, for the good of the community and all.”
“We’re afraid the policies they’re working toward now will have a hu
ge and horrible impact on every fearmancer, one that it’d be difficult to reverse,” I added. “This isn’t just politics anymore. It’ll affect every part of our lives—yours and your family’s too.”
From the tightening of Hector’s mouth, I suspected he knew at least the gist of what the barons were working toward. He focused on me. “Does your mother know you’re off looking for allies to work against her?”
I swallowed hard. “She doesn’t know I’m here, but she knows I disagree with the barons and that I’m going to work against their plans as much as I have to. All of the scions are in agreement. We’re gathering support as quickly as we can. I don’t know how much time we have before they completely overturn our world.”
“I know you can’t feel a whole lot of loyalty to—to my father,” Jude said. “He’s been an asshat to you for as long as I’ve been old enough to notice. I think having another Killbrook, someone who could have been baron, speak out against the policies he’s supporting would make a significant difference. And you’d have all of the scions’ support.”
Hector rubbed his jaw. His expression had gone pensive but not necessarily resistant. “You’re the heir,” he said to Jude. “Your word should matter more than mine. Anything I say, he’ll most likely frame as bitterness from the one who didn’t have a chance at the barony.”
Jude looked down at his hands and back again. I saw him gathering his resolve in the tensing of his shoulders and the set of his mouth. We’d talked about how much he’d share from what he knew about his family’s situation, and he’d been uncertain but willing to cross a few lines if the risk seemed worth it. Apparently he’d decided it was. I tensed too, restraining the urge to grasp his hand in an offer of support.
“He isn’t going to be baron forever,” he said quietly. “And, no matter what happens, at some point I’d be here asking you to step in as regent until my sister comes of age. I can’t take the barony, and he’ll age out before she’s old enough to claim the spot.”
Hector blinked at him. “Even if you don’t want to be baron, you’ll be old enough to act as regent by then.”
“I can’t. I’d rather not get into why right now, because it could have horrible consequences for me as well as my father. And even if that wasn’t the case, with the injuries I took recently, I can barely cast anymore. I won’t be able to protect her the way she’ll need.”
Jude’s voice had turned raw with that last sentiment. I thought he was coming to terms with the loss of so much of his magical ability, but it obviously still ate at him.
Silence hung over the room for a moment. I cleared my throat. “Ideally what we’d like is for you to make a bid for the barony on the basis that Baron Killbrook is flouting fearmancer law—all the barons are, by making these huge decisions without any Stormhurst baron at all, not to mention the way they’ve displaced Declan Ashgrave. We’re gathering families who’ll back up that bid. But before we go forward, we’d ask that you make a magical agreement with us that if you do end up taking over the barony, you’ll return it to Jude’s sister—as regent and then stepping back completely—when she’s old enough.”
Jude leaned forward, his usual energy coming back. “You must have ideas you’d like to see put out there, policies you have opinions on. Just from talking to you now I can tell your approach has got to be better than the shit the current barons are getting us deeper and deeper into.”
Hector inhaled sharply. “I’ll have to give it some thought. This isn’t the sort of decision anyone should make lightly. I’d say that applies to the two of you as well, but I get the impression you’ve already invested a lot in this matter.” He stood up and nodded to Jude. “I have your current contact information now. I’ll let you know if I’m ready to take part in this rebellion of yours.”
That wasn’t the definite yes we’d have hoped for, but it was a hell of a lot better than a no. Jude and I got up as well, Jude offering his hand to the other man for a brisk shake.
“It wasn’t easy, coming here,” he said, looking Hector in the eye. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it could make a huge difference in whether we end up in some kind of war with the Naries for who knows how long.”
Hector grimaced. “Whatever I decide, I can assure you that’s not something I want to see either. I don’t know—some of these families—our own family…” He shook his head as he trailed off.
He led us back to the front door himself without speaking, but when we reached the front hall, he paused, and his voice dropped. “I appreciate the trust you put in me to reach out to me like this, Jude. I can offer, right now—I know a few of the people who’ve been the barons’ most avid supporters in these new policies. And it might be useful for you to know that those mages have set off for Washington and other areas of major Nary political activity in the past couple of days. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
A chill ran down my back. “You don’t think they’d directly attack the Nary government, do you?”
“That seems over the top even after what we’ve already seen,” Hector said. “But they’re absolutely aiming to gain some influence there. How they’re going to use that influence on the Naries who make the laws for their society… I’m not particularly looking forward to finding out.”
Chapter Four
Rory
There was definitely still something a little strange in Malcolm’s reaction to my presence. A few minutes ago when he’d caught me in the hall on my way back from visiting Hector Killbrook, he’d talked like his usual cool and cocky self. But as he’d led me down the stairs to the scion lounge, there’d been something almost anxious in his grip on my arm. After we’d sat together on the couch, he’d gazed at me for a beat longer than felt totally normal before he’d fished out his phone. But once he started playing the video he said one of the Guard had forwarded to him, any concern I had about that minor weirdness flew out the window.
My fingers clenched around the phone as I watched Declan’s aunt declare him a traitor and herself baron in his place. If it’d been a more disposable device, I’d have hurled it across the room. I jerked toward Malcolm when it was over.
“Can she really do that? How the hell is that okay?”
“It’s not,” he said. “But as long as the barons are giving her legitimacy, it’ll take a lot of people arguing the case to get anywhere. It doesn’t help that Declan isn’t old enough to completely claim the barony in the first place.”
“He must feel awful.” My heart wrenched at the thought. I knew how much of himself Declan had poured into the pentacle, how many sacrifices he’d made to preserve his role and shield Noah from having to take on the responsibilities and dangers that came with it. And now for this woman to simply snatch the title away from him with a few fancy words in a single video recording… Gah, I’d have liked to punch that self-satisfied smile off her face.
My thumb moved to rub the family heirloom ring my mother had given me for my birthday—one with a conducting pattern that could shape a little magic energy cast through it into a slicing projectile. Ambrosia Ashgrave was lucky she hadn’t made this declaration right in front of me, or I might have been tempted to try out that power.
“He pulled himself together fast and didn’t let it show that he was fazed, but I can’t imagine he isn’t stinging on the inside.” Malcolm made a face. “You’ve seen how closed off he can get when he knows people are depending on him.”
I had. Strange as it was to remember now, during the first few months I’d known Declan, I’d often found him detached, even cold. I just hadn’t realized how tight a rein he kept on his emotions to avoid letting anything slip that could damage his standing. With the way he cared about his brother—the way he’d shown he cared about me—it was obvious he was anything but passionless.
“Did he say anything to you about how he’s feeling?” I asked.
The Nightwood scion shook his head. “By the time I saw him after he’d gotten the news, he was already in full-speed
-ahead professional mode. I was pissed off on his behalf, and he sort of swept the problem under the rug, saying we need to focus on the Nary situation first. Which maybe is true, but still.” His hands clenched on his lap.
I handed him back his phone. “I have to talk to him. He might open up a little more if it’s just me.” I at least wanted to convince Declan he could talk to me if he thought it would help—and to comfort him as well as I could, whether he was willing to admit he needed it or not.
I texted Declan on my way up the stairs, but no immediate answer came. It was getting late, the lights dimmed in the halls and in my dorm common room when I stepped inside. Declan was typically an early riser, and he had to feel he had even more on his plate now. He might have already turned in for the night.
Standing in my bedroom, an idea tickled up through my head. I’d dropped in on the Ashgrave scion in his bedroom one night before. It was right under mine, just a short climb away. That should give him a little distraction.
A smile played with my lips as I went to the window. I pushed it open, bracing myself against the waft of cold night air that gusted over me. With casting words that were now much more practiced, I created an illusion of the wall beneath the window ledge to disguise me from anyone who happened to glance this way. We might not need to keep our closeness a total secret now, but it’d still look pretty odd for the Bloodstone scion to be climbing from one room to another.
Intensifying my concentration, I conjured a rope to dangle just past Declan’s window. Then I scrambled out into the darkness.
In my hurry, I hadn’t factored in just how different circumstances were now compared to that last time. Before, it’d been summer. Even at night, the air had been warm, the breeze pleasant rather than biting. Creeping toward the end of October, the New York autumn didn’t cut me much of a break. I should have put on a thicker jacket.
