Becka turned and looked around the room, once more seeking out Quinn. She spotted him at the far end of the hall. She sauntered down the aisle, taking in the exhibits with the hopeful air of nonchalance. Familiar from her youth, her memory was blurred on the details, so in many ways, Becka was rediscovering the antiquities.
This wasn’t a human museum where you’d have placards and audio headsets walking you through the history of each item which was obligatorily locked behind thick lucite for safety. No, here the fae immortalized history on white stone pillars with the name of the object and the contributor engraved into the stone. If you wanted to, you could reach out and touch the antiquity. Threading her fingers together behind her back, Becka moved deeper into the hall in a criss-cross pattern as she sought out others to engage.
The hall wasn’t very crowded but she spotted her two remaining sisters, Sigfrid and Ingrid, in the back row whispering to one another. They were middle children, Sigfrid at twenty and Ingrid at seventeen respectively, followed by two younger brothers Becka had first met while sitting at the family table. Ingrid was just eleven when Becka had been outcast, and the younger boys had been born after her departure. Her sisters were both shorter than her, but perhaps Ingrid would still catch up.
The sisters cast anxious frowns at each other at Becka’s approach but didn’t move on.
“You both look well,” Becka said. “I haven’t seen you since you, Sigfrid, were twelve and Ingrid, you were nine when I left.”
“I am pleased to find you well, sister,” Sigfrid replied, the stern angles of her face reminding her of Maura. “Although, I must admit your visage is a bit jarring, considering the occasion.”
“I humbly disagree, sister,” Ingrid replied. Her cheekbones were high like Maura’s, but her eyes and chin favored Vott’s softness. “It’s not the same experience for me. Becka is similar in feature to our dearest Tesse, it is true, and yet she’s quite different. The cadence of her walk, her bearing, even the way she fidgets with her fingers. She’s quite distinct.”
Then Sigfrid and Ingrid shared a look, as if realizing they’d spoken out loud.
Sigfrid frowned, “We mean no offense, Becka.”
“None taken. This is an unexpected situation for all of us. I don’t mind hearing about Tesse and our differences at all. We were so similar and yet so different. For instance, how did she wear her hair? Like mine?”
Becka’s hair was shorter, hanging just past her shoulders, a nod to city fashion. She knew how Tesse had styled her hair, but wanted to engage them further. This was a fact-finding mission, after all.
Ingrid shook her head. “No, she wore it ornately and very long, with layers of braids.”
The sisters turned and strolled deeper into the hall. Sigfrid motioned for her to follow.
Becka nodded. “Of course. That sounds exactly like her.” The sisters nodded, sad wan smiles paired with welling tears in their eyes. “I’d love to know more if you’re willing.” They nodded, so she pushed her luck. “What about anything wilder? Piercings, tattoos, hair color?”
Ingrid rolled her eyes, shaking her head in apparent disgust. “Those behaviors are an oddity of human and shifter cultures. No fae in this house would ever defile themselves.” Her eyes trailed over Becka’s ombre-dyed hair and ear piercings. “Begging you pardon, Becka.”
“No biggie.” She pushed on. “I’ve seen tattoos on some Oak, Hawthorne, and Elder folks. And I remember henna and paints being used here when I was younger. How’s a tattoo different?”
“Neither henna nor paints are permanent markings,” Sigfrid replied. “The Illusionists Guild takes an oath against such customs. The practices of other houses are not our concern.”
“Can you always tell the difference between illusory and ink tattoos?”
The sisters shared a wary look between them, and when they looked back at her, Becka could tell she’d pushed too far and lost the moment of openness between them. Had they, for a moment, forgotten they’d been speaking to an outcast?
“Have you seen this one?” Ingrid replied, holding her hand up to a floating ball of multi-colored tea roses. An effortless redirection on her part, to be sure. The orb transfixed Becka, the fragrance potent, the color shifting between peach and cream tones.
Becka read the inscription. Heart’s Fondness, by Tesse of the House of Mirrors. Her breath caught in her throat, a vice of sadness constricting around her chest.
“Step closer. There’s more,” Ingrid said.
Becka complied, and as she moved closer the rose petals rearranged themselves into the likeness of a face smiling back at her.
“It mirrors whoever approaches?”
“No,” Ingrid replied, dabbing tears from her cheeks. “It shows you the face of a loved one held close to your heart but not present.”
Becka couldn’t retrieve the handkerchief from her pocket quickly enough to capture the tears springing from her eyes. Wiping her cheeks, she appreciated the rose orb even as it tore at her heart.
“Not surprising,” Sigfrid muttered. “It could be responding to any of us right now.”
“Sorry, I thought you would enjoy seeing her work.” Ingrid smiled a sad smile.
“I do, thank you.”
Checking for Quinn, she spied him headed into an alcove along the back wall not far from them, his phone in hand. It must be important, otherwise, he’d never show the device in the open within the manor.
“If you don’t mind, I need a moment.”
Her sisters nodded and excused themselves, heading back towards the front of the hall.
Chapter 17
Shaking off the heaviness in her heart, Becka followed after Quinn, anxious to hear any updates on her sister’s case. Besides, she also wanted to share what she’d learned with him. The alcove he’d disappeared into looked private. It must be fairly deep, as she couldn’t see him while walking down the aisle. She dabbed her eyes and tucked the handkerchief into her waistband for quicker access next time. Along the way, she paused at each of the five pillars she passed so in case anyone was watching they’d think she was just continuing to peruse the exhibits.
When she reached the second to last pillar in the corner, she picked up on Quinn’s low, rumbling tones. Reaching the final pillar in the corner near the alcove, Becka picked out individual words when she paid enough attention. She paused and swept her gaze around the room. No one had followed her. No one was even nearby. She spied Maura and her sisters near the front of the hall, engaged in conversation with an older couple Becka didn’t recognize.
“An opportunity has arisen to speed up your timeline,” he said. His voice was hard. Firm. Emotionless. “Becka wants to leave tomorrow, but, not knowing if you were prepared, I encouraged her to help out my investigation a little longer.”
Anxiety churned in her gut, warring with brazen curiosity flaring through her mind as she snuck close to the edge of the alcove, hidden from his view. She’d heard this tone of voice from Quinn once before. The night she’d overheard him on the balcony…
An angry whisper buzzed, echoing in the small alcove, like a thousand buzzing wasps. Becka stilled her breath. Could this be Chief Elowen? Or the person he’d spoken to on the balcony the other night?
“Then you will have to disclose a delivery location. I cannot deliver her if I do not know where I am going.”
Definitely not his boss. Another pause. More buzzing.
“As I have said before, there are hints she is more than an ungifted, but nothing certain. I called in a tester in the hopes they might lead to some answers. I understand your concerns, but I cannot call them off now.”
Becka couldn’t stop the questions from flooding her mind. What did Quinn think was happening with her? What did more than ungifted mean? And why would whoever was on the phone not want a tester to check if she’d been cursed? What were they afraid of finding?
“The events I shared with you were witnessed. I was not the only one asking to have Becka tested.”
“Do not worry, one way or another, I will get her to you. As long as you will deliver on your end?”
Quinn was selling her out?
The line went quiet, followed by what Becka recognized as barking laughter, and then more rumbling words.
“Just tell me where and when.”
She’d been a fool to believe his honesty act after being warned repeatedly. Becka looked around the hall. No one seemed to have noticed her loitering by the alcove.
A moment passed. Quinn sighed, and then she heard him walking toward her, exiting the alcove.
Realizing she’d be caught eavesdropping, Becka sprinted across the hall as best she could, weaving between the pillars of artifacts.
“Becka!” Quinn called after her. Was he chasing her? Becka didn’t stop to find out. The adrenaline in her, once loosed, pushed her forward like a racehorse.
Until she tripped on the hem of her fashionable long trousers, which clearly hadn’t been designed for running. Becka thrust out her hands to catch herself, and instead knocked a beautiful sculpture off its pedestal with her grasping fingertips. She tried to catch it, but the attempt only knocked it further from her grasp.
Falling now alongside the sculpture, she marveled at its workmanship and fine detail. It portrayed a golden phoenix rising from a pyre, constructed from thousands of shards of clear crystal, which lit up the pyre like a living creature as the piece rotated in a graceful arc to the floor.
Where it shattered into countless fragments.
Becka hit the floor a heartbeat later on her left side, scraping her elbow and jarring her body in the process. Pain radiated throughout her body and the mother of all migraines hit her like a sledgehammer. The sudden outset and extent of the pain knocked the wind out of her harder than the fall had. For a few moments she couldn’t even focus her eyes. Everything was blurred and dark. Rolling her head, Becka closed her eyes and waited for the shock to pass.
When she opened her eyes, Quinn stood above her, his hand outstretched. Their eyes met, and by the hard edge in his eyes he knew she’d overheard him. Fear kicked in to reenergize her, but her body was too rattled to get up by herself. The sounds of others approaching spurred her to take his hand, not wanting to be sprawled out on the floor and surrounded by a crowd.
Although she glared at him while he helped her up, he was gentle as ever.
“I can explain,” he whispered.
Quinn inspected her elbow, which was bleeding. He took the kerchief from her sash and formed a quick bandage to staunch the flow.
“What could you say?” Becka whispered back. Her head throbbed, her heartbeat echoing the sensation into her fingers and toes. What in the world had happened?
Maura, Sigfrid, and Ingrid arrived a moment later, shocked looks on her sisters faces. Maura’s personal guard was hot on her heels and the older couple stood enthralled, staring at where the artifact had been.
“I’m sorry, Duchess Maura,” Becka said. “I was careless...”
Maura cut her off, her expression curious. “Guards, clear the hall. Embla and Vir, please excuse us? This is a private family matter.”
“But of course, Duchess Maura,” the man, Vir, replied. A guard motioned for Embla and Vir to exit the hall and then escorted them out.
Once they were out of earshot, Maura moved close to Becka, kicking her toe through the crystalline remnants of the phoenix on the floor, which had turned into dust. She looked up at Becka, as if seeing her again for the first time.
Would Maura have her imprisoned? Would she be forced to repay the value of the item to make amends to the family? Becka had no idea what the legality of this situation was. but understood one thing. Maura would be the one to dish out justice under the roof of House Rowan.
“I know it was careless of me to run in the hall. Perhaps it’s best that I return home?” Becka said.
“How did you do it?” Sigfrid asked, her voice awestruck.
“I tripped,” Becka didn’t try to deny it. “And as I fell my fingers caught it and knocked it off. It shattered when it hit the floor.”
“We know that,” Ingrid replied. “Your little sprint caught our attention. We witnessed the whole thing.”
Becka looked around, and everyone except Quinn seemed to be waiting for more. “Look, it’s my fault, but it was an accident.”
“I am also to blame,” Quinn replied. “I am afraid I gave her a start, which is why she ran off. Knowing there is a potential threat to one’s life can be unnerving.”
“As you say,” Maura replied, a single brow arched as she fixed Becka with her stare. “But, how did you break the Unbreakable?”
Was it a trick question? “That’s a stupid name for an object made of crystal, don’t you know?” Everyone continued to stare. “I mean the floor is marble. Gravity is a proven force. Quartz is only about a 7 on the hardness scale. Obviously, the impact did the artifact in. This isn’t rocket science, people!”
Sigfrid let out a short laugh.
No one else so much as smiled.
Maura gave Sigfrid a firm look, and then turned her attention fully back to Becka.
“It’s named the Unbreakable, a gift symbolizing the fidelity from House Hawthorne from the time of the Great War,” Maura said. “Hawthorne pledged their unending support to our house with the phoenix symbolizing that we will always overcome our losses together.”
“A poignant display of allegiance,” Quinn replied. “To be sure.”
“But ridiculously fragile,” Becka said. “What moron would use crystal to symbolize unending support?”
Maura frowned. “We had a contest at the time to see if any could break it. Many tried. They burned it. Pounded at it with hammers. Threw it like a spear. All attempts failed.”
Becka looked down at the crystal dust on the floor. “So...Unbreakable is more than just the name?”
“It’s supposed to be impossible to destroy. Imbued with fire everlasting.” Maura smiled the slightest of smiles. “Obviously, we were wrong.”
“My deepest apology, Maura.”
“Oh, it’s an invaluable loss, to be sure,” Maura waved her off. “But I am more concerned over how you, an ungifted outcast, managed the feat.”
“I’ve become concerned she might be hexed or cursed, my Lady,” Quinn replied. “I have additionally requested the services of a tester.
Maura shook her head, eyes afire with renewed purpose. “No, I do not believe that for one moment. Something else occurred here, and I am going to get to the truth of it. The call for a tester does indeed feel most timely.”
Becka held up her hands, the pit of her stomach sinking at the suggestion. “Look, I didn’t do anything besides knock it over.” She looked at each of them one by one and was met with doubt and disbelief. “Something else must have happened to it.”
“I believe you when you say you do not know what occurred,” Maura replied. “But simply saying ‘all you did was knock it over’ does not make it true.”
Maura turned to the guards. “Please escort Becka back to her room and ensure she remains there. She may not leave the estate for any reason.”
Becka’s heart sank. If only she’d demanded to Quinn to take her away from here, or refused to return in the first place! Now she was jailed, more or less, until the testers had their way with her. She shuddered at the thought. Perhaps she could still find a way out before the testing was scheduled? Quinn seemed eager enough to get her out of here, although she feared the reasons. Perhaps they could make a deal?
Maura turned back to Becka. “I will send for you when the tester is ready. Being late in the day, you likely will have until the morning before the process is prepared. You will not leave House Rowan until my curiosity is satisfi
ed. And by all that is sacred, do not touch anything, or anyone, else.”
Chapter 18
The door to Becka’s room closed with a heavy, resonant clang. She waited to hear the bolt thrown, but no additional sounds came.
“They will not lock us in,” Quinn said. He leaned against the dresser near the door, watching her for reactions.
Head still throbbing, Becka crossed to the table where she had her bags and fished out a bottle of hot sauce. “Why not?”
“Two guards are posted outside. With the door unlocked if anyone needs access to you, they have the option to walk in unannounced and catch you off guard. If they had opted to lock the door, then we would hear it and have time to prepare. My guess is they want you on edge.”
“I’m close enough to the edge I might fall off this cliff.”
Becka’s hand shook as she raised the bottle to her lips and took a swig. She replaced the cap and hid the bottle away. She walked out onto the balcony and breathed deeply, taking in the expansive horizon. Her headache slowly disbanded, as the hot sauce and the open air worked their magic. The late afternoon view of the manor gardens made her wistful. If only Tesse hadn’t died out there. She’d never see these grounds in the same light again.
“Feel better?” he asked, leaning against the ornately carved balcony railing.
Becka turned towards him. “I’m not up to making small talk with you right now. You said you’d explain what I overheard on your call. Heck, while you’re at it, why don’t you try explaining the call the night before too.”
There was so much emotion roiling under his skin, it was like a storm cloud had raced across his features, and yet a moment later he was tranquil as the sea again. It happened so fast, Becka almost thought she’d imagined it.
“Tell me what you heard.”
Becka shook her head. “Quit your bullshit, Quinn. That’s not how this is gonna work.”
The flash of shock running across his face over her candor was soon replaced by a slight smile and twinkle in his eyes.
Twinned Shadow (The Shadow Series Book 1) Page 12
