“The guys had all talked smack about him for days, so I was pretty sure of what to expect. Several of them had met Tyrus already, and believe me, they had nothing good to say. Here I was prepared to hate him, when who should exit the vehicle after him, but—”
“Gwynn,” I say. She said Tyrus helped her back in Jienke. It’s obvious she feels some kind of obligation toward him.
Ren ducks his head back down again. “The one person I thought of more than anyone else. The last person I expected to see. I was sure he kidnapped her. Taken her in a raid just like the Arcs did to me.” He pauses. “I jumped to my feet and charged at him. But I didn’t get far. Tyrus struck me down, whipped out his claw.”
I fiddle with the silver clasps on the trunk beneath me, not sure if I want to hear this. Ren goes on.
“You can imagine my surprise when Gwynn told him to wait and he actually listened to her. She said she knew me. It was crazy to see her—and not only that, but to have Tyrus obey her? It was baffling. She’d been pretty before, but it was like she’d blossomed somehow. I thought maybe she’d had medical alterations, but I knew it couldn’t be possible, not when it had only been days since I last saw her.”
He plucks a leaf from the floor near his feet and slowly tears the thing into pieces, one bit at a time.
“She stepped right up to me, Ambry. Looked right into my face. My throat was so dense I could hardly breathe. I couldn’t figure out what she was doing there. And with him! It hadn’t been that long since I’d seen her, and yet she and Tyrus seemed joined somehow—like a team. Like they’d been that way for years.”
He plucks a few more leaves only to toss them down.
Soft conversations continue around us, and I turn, wondering if the others heard. But Talon’s attention is locked on Shasa, and Solomus squeezes Jomeini’s shoulders, his attention on the book he retrieved, not paying Ren and me any notice.
“Tyrus has some kind of hold over her,” I tell him under my breath. “She told me he rescued her in Jienke when a soldier tried to rob her. I think she feels some kind of obligation to him, Ren. She never had emotions before—can you imagine how confused she must have been in that moment? Tyrus must have seemed like some sort of hero to her. It’s clear they bonded.”
Ren stares at his hands. “I don’t know what I expected—for her to kiss me? Defend me somehow, since she seemed to be in good standing with the axrat. But I heard her muttering to Tyrus how inconsequential I was, how I was just someone who looked like someone she knew back home. And then he stabbed that claw into me. She stood there as he drained my magic. As he owned me.”
He lowers his head once more.
“Ren.” I place a hand on his arm. “That wasn’t her. That wasn’t the real Gwynn. She got tears at Black Vault. I watched her drink them. Whosever tears those were, they changed her. And not for the better.”
“The old Gwynn would never have done that. I know her stepdad was harsh on her,” he says. “But I can’t believe it of her. I stood there and watched her Xian you, Ambry. And I could do nothing.”
“I remember.” Angels, do I remember. Ren’s face was so strained. What a position to be in.
“What can we do about it?” he asks.
Too many thoughts rush in, remembering that night and the dream Gwynn had; the dream, Black Vault, the tears, all of it. Who knew it would have led to this?
“We can’t give up on her,” I say. “We have to find a way to get back the old Gwynn. She has to be made to see what Tyrus is doing. To see how wrong he is.”
“And exactly how do we do that?”
“I’m not sure,” is my pathetic reply. “But there is always hope, Ren. I refuse to give up on her.”
Hope. Nattie said that in relation to me as well, how I was the hope of the world. But the Firsts’ admonition wears on me. I glance back at Jomeini snuggled into the crook of her grandfather’s shoulder, her youthful hand twined with his aged one.
It’s just too much. I don’t have the first idea how to break the spell. My tears are gone, but from the sound of things they won’t be safe much longer if Tyrus is going after them. I need to speak with Jomeini, to get some kind of direction from her. I need Talon’s help to assemble a coup at Mt. Rhine.
But most of all, I need to figure out how to save my best friend.
“Did you love her?” I ask. The words escape so softly I’m half surprised I say them.
One hand in his pocket, Ren keeps his attention on the orange horizon. He doesn’t answer.
***
Ayso slows and pulls off onto a dirt road leading to a stretch of houses, a blink away from being noticed by any type of travelers. She pulls into the driveway of a two-story house with blue siding and brick along its lower half. A collection of squat bushes dot the way to the door.
“Come on,” Ren says, rising and making his way to the back hatch as Ayso kills the ignition. He reaches for the handle. “We have some things to discuss now that Dircey is gone.”
The house has a large living room interrupted by the long banister of a staircase. Ayso, Zeke, and Cadie sit on the couch, while the six of us newcomers take whatever spot we can find. Shasa huffs and slinks to the carpet. Jomeini sidles over to join her.
Ren stands before the dormant fireplace at the room’s opposite end, runs a hand over his shaved head, and speaks. “Ayso, Zeke, Cadie, I know this was probably hard for you, but I’m glad you’re here.”
Their chattering dies off, and the Black Vaulters rotate, giving Ren their attention. Zeke lowers his matches, Ayso folds her arms. Cadie’s wings flutter. She lifts her eyes toward my brother.
Likewise, the wizards glance upward. Shasa folds her arms. Talon’s eyes catch mine across the brown, carpeted space, and I glance away.
Ren continues. “I was under Tyrus’s control. I saw firsthand what he’s trying to do, and exactly what it’s doing to the people, to our countrymen. You’ve seen it in your hometowns, your families. No doubt, it’s the reason you joined Black Vault in the first place.”
Zeke angles his head, looking formidable with his one good eye. Ayso’s lips part, her gaze focused and intent.
“You’re welcome to leave, to follow Dircey and Micro to Hyerton—I won’t hold that against you. But I’m staying. We can fight this. We have wares that help people feel, that give them strength. We can make a difference, if we try.”
“What hope do we have, what hope do any of us have?” asks Cadie, fluttering forward closer to the wizards who’ve rested near the windowsill. “It isn’t just humans. Tyrus has taken my people as well, and there’s no way I’ll get them back.”
“There is a way,” says Ren. He stalks over and puts his arm around me, forcing me away from the painting I propped my shoulder against. “Some of you have already met her, but this is my sister, Ambry. She’s taken on Tyrus—one of his cohorts even took her magic, and she got it back.”
“That’s impossible,” Ayso says, resting an elbow on her bent knee. A few others straighten, giving me their full attention.
“It’s not,” interjects Talon. Shasa frowns in obvious displeasure, but Talon rises and limps to the front, standing beside me. The mere sight of him coming toward me turns me weak, and I take an extra breath as he stands on my other side. “Tyrus ranted about it, back in the dungeon. Ambry gave Ren back his magic. She destroyed that Station—I saw it when the Arcs took me away. Tyrus had a huge battalion out looking just for her because he knew how powerful she is.”
“You make me sound like some indomitable force,” I say under my breath, the heat of the fire getting to my cheeks.
His eyes slide to mine. “Aren’t you?”
Shasa looks like she’s ready to spit cats.
“Go sit down, Talon,” I tell him as mildly as I can. I can’t get in the middle again. Angels, this is complicated.
Talon doesn’t move. The other gatekeepers all stare, expecting more from me.
I’m just a girl from Cadehtraen, I want to tell them. Just a gi
rl from a small town who stumbled across a jar of tears. But I know I can never go back to being just a girl. I am clay for a mold, and things in life leave imprints. They change you without your even realizing it.
With a sigh, I rub my eyebrow and step forward, away from Talon and Ren flanking either side.
“He’s right. I did get Ren’s magic back, and mine. And together, we can save people.”
“How?” Zeke asks, this time a match jutting from between his teeth instead of a toothpick.
I pause a moment, trying to figure out where to start. “Ayso, you guys might have been aware of a particular jar of tears circulating in your market.”
“Wait a minute,” Shasa says, placing a hand on Jomeini’s shoulder before rising from the floor. She wavers. Her face pales, and she rests a hand on the wall for support. “Let’s not get carried away with the details.”
“They deserve to know,” I say. “Tyrus already announced the tears’ existence to Feihria.”
“What?” She looks to Talon, affronted that he hadn’t told her first.
“Jomeini,” I address the maiden wizard. “With your permission, I think they have a right to know. Tyrus found out I traded the tears to the sirens, and he’s planning on attacking Mt. Rhine.”
“My tears shouldn’t be a secret,” says the small girl, rising to join the conversation. She’s so petite; she barely reaches Shasa’s shoulder. I thought Shasa was short. “Go ahead and tell them.”
I pause for a moment, wondering whether the wizard girl wouldn’t prefer to share the details. No doubt she knows far more about the tears than I do. Then again, these people don’t need specifics.
“I went to Black Vault about six weeks ago and…obtained a jar of tears that were shed by Jomeini Straylark.” I gesture to the girl. “The maiden wizard. Solomus Straylark’s granddaughter.”
I expect an angry reaction, and so I’m not surprised by Zeke’s glare and knuckle-cracking, by Cadie’s mouth drop. Thus far, the Black Vaulters didn’t know Solomus was in the company. “And if any of you have a problem with Solomus, you can take it up with me,” I add.
The wizard inclines his head. “Thank you, Ambry.”
“You’re still alive?” Zeke says.
“As you can see,” says the wizard.
“I’m listening,” Ayso says, keeping her gaze on me. “And the rest of you should too.”
Their brief uproar dies down again. Talon gives me an encouraging gesture.
“I got some tears in my store,” Zeke says, glowering from behind his eyepatch. “What makes these any different?”
“Well, Jomeini—” Yikes, how do I explain this without sounding like I’m completely full of myself?
“They were shed after a vision I had,” the girl Seer pipes up. “Regarding Ambry.”
I swallow, forcing myself to continue. “Talon and I have reason to believe Tyrus is about to attack Mt. Rhine for these tears. I gave them to the sirens for safekeeping. And Tyrus informed us that he is determined to get them back.”
“You mean you don’t have them anymore?” Shasa’s tone teems with disgust.
I don’t fight the eye roll. In fact, I’d back it up and replay it just for her if I could. Hasn’t she been listening? I give Talon a look. He shakes his head as if answering my unspoken question. No, I didn’t tell her you took them to the sirens.
“Even if I had them, they weren’t meant to be drunk,” I tell her.
“Are you certain?” Jomeini’s brows pinch in confusion.
“Positive,” I say, remembering the way they burned me when I tried. At this point I’m not sure I want to drink them, even if I could. Not after the way those others changed Gwynn.
“Tyrus thinks they’ll give him limitless power. And from the sound of a conversation Talon and I were included in, conquering Itharia isn’t his only objective. He’s after Feihrians as well.”
“That’s no surprise,” someone says, but Shasa pipes up again.
“Are you serious? He can’t really be that stupid.”
I talk over them. “We have to set up camp around Mt. Rhine. We have to warn the sirens, and then stand guard to defend them, to do everything we can to keep Tyrus from getting those tears once more.”
“You’re kidding, right?” says Cadie.
“You seem like a nice girl,” says Zeke. “But I’m gonna need a lot more to go on than your word in this case. You’re talking about Tyrus vrecking Blinnsdale, and last I checked we was staying as far from him as we possibly could.”
“Zeke is right,” says Ayso. “Do you know what he’d do to us if he caught us?”
It’s silent for a moment.
“Very well,” I say.
I skim a finger along my neck and remove the teardrop, dangling it before them on its chain. The crystal facets catch fragments of light spearing in from the window. I would never dare display it like this, but these people have put their trust in us over their other leader. They’re risking their businesses, their lives for this cause, and they need to know I can do what I say I can.
The tears purr from their distant perch, soothing me.
Please let this work.
I concentrate all my energy into the crystal and pray to the angels, to the Firsts, to the powers still keeping Itharia afloat. My hairs stand on end. Energy crackles through the walls, short-circuiting the half-filled magic canteen near the door, draining every ounce of light from the house. Clouds visible through the large window roll in, rumbling as they go. Gradually, people around me lift their hands as though they don’t know why they’re lifting their hands, and their magic joins mine, sparking in unison like emergency flares.
I shudder, my bones humming from the surge. “You see? When I channel magic into it, it enhances what I already have.”
“Incredible,” Jomeini says. I release the energy and their hands all lower. The sky clears outside, and the lights in the room return.
“Where did you get that?” Talon mumbles, leaning in close.
“Nattie gave it to me,” I whisper. My knees tremble, my body’s attempt at coping with the fluctuation of power. “She was in the forest when it collapsed on me.”
“How come you never told me?”
I open my mouth, but the group’s silence draws my attention. Everyone is watching us talk, waiting for me to continue. I suddenly feel bigger than I am. “I’ll explain everything later,” I mutter.
“That’s not enough,” Cadie calls out. “We need proof.”
“That’s how you did it,” Jomeini says, pointing to my amulet. “You helped me save Shasa’s life. With that.”
Shasa glances side to side as if we could possibly be talking about someone else.
“Remarkable,” says Solomus, hugging the book he got from Craven’s shed.
“Dircey told me Ambry was using magic even around the talc powder set over their room,” says Ayso.
“I belonged to Tyrus,” Ren adds. “She gave my magic back.”
“Tyrus isn’t dead,” says Ayso. “I saw him on the news this morning.”
“No, my sister didn’t kill him to do it. She reversed it.”
I force away the embarrassment gathering in my cheeks. This is no time to be self-conscious, but they’re all praising me far more than I deserve. “I can do a lot, but I can’t do it alone. We’ve got to get to Mt. Rhine.”
“What if they fly out and take us?” Zeke asks. “Sure, you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve, but them sirens ain’t too friendly, last I heard. ‘Specially not toward us menfolk.”
A valid concern, considering the state of the men when I went up their mountain to rescue Talon. I decide not to elaborate on this one.
“That won’t happen,” I assure, hoping it’s enough. “Not if I’m there. They pledged their friendship to me. They won’t attack anyone on my side.”
The other Black Vaulters look to Ayso for her decision. She steps forward, hand extended to me. “We’re in.”
I exhale, my chest expanding in
relief.
They all branch off. Caught in whispers, Shasa and Jomeini take a seat on the now-vacant couch, legs crossed. Solomus and Zeke are speaking, a match bobbing between the vendor’s lips. Ren is gripped in conversation with the other Black Vaulters, and Talon stands aside, hands in his pockets.
He cocks his head to the left. I dip my chin in response to his invitation, and his mouth twists up just slightly as he strolls toward the back of the house.
It takes a few minutes before I can break away from the others. Several of them have questions, which is completely understandable. I don’t go into detail about how I ended up meeting sirens in the first place, and I tell Ren I just need a minute to myself—which is true. Grime from the dungeon coats my clothing and hands. I’d love nothing more than a hot bath. But Ren extends his hands to the Black Vaulters, and I duck out the back door.
Talon stands near a solitary tree with its clustered trunk and skeletal, coiling branches. The leaves are speckled with blossoms, a sure sign that summer is in full swing. I take a moment to watch him before he sees me. With a hand braced against the twining trunk, Talon bends at the knees as though testing the limit of the healing. His broad shoulders, the line of his posture. His blond hair curls over his ears in a way it hadn’t before.
Breathe, I tell myself. We’re just going to talk. It’s nothing more.
“Hi,” I say.
His eyes soften, the corner of his mouth rising. He limps toward me. “Hi.”
“How are your legs?” I ask. “I can’t believe they broke them.”
“Neither can I,” he says. “Tyrus was always harsh, but never to me. Not until just before I left the army.” He blinks away some painful memory.
“You’ll continue healing, won’t you?”
He glances down at his lower half. “I think so. I hope so. It fluctuates. Sometimes I’m stronger, then other times I’m back to limping again. I can’t fight the way I am now.”
Speaking of fighting, I wonder what he thinks of this latest idea. “You’re the only one of us who has seen battle, Talon,” I begin. “Would you lead us?”
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