by Marisa Mills
“You didn’t like me when I was from Argent,” I said. “You would have hated me if I’d said I was from Plumba, and you know that.”
There was a spark of hurt in Alexander’s eyes. “That’s not true,” he said uncertainly.
But it was. And the truth hung between us like a heavy curtain.
“Alexander,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I need you to trust me.”
“How can I? You’ve been lying from the beginning!” he snapped.
“I know I’ve hurt you,” I said.
Oh, don’t apologize! He isn’t nearly worth that!
“But I’m trying to figure something out,” I said. “I need you to trust that—when I’ve lied to you—I’ve only lied because I haven’t had a choice.”
Alexander’s breath hitched. He tore away from me suddenly, careening out of the alley, looking as if I’d burned him. I stared after him and fought back the urge to cry.
Well, I don’t suppose you need to feel guilty about him for being so nice to you, Lucian said. Not after that display.
“I lied to him,” I said softly. “He’s right to be upset. I’d be angry, too.”
You’d be hurt, but you’d forgive him. Especially if he had a good reason. You forgive everyone who hurts you.
“No, I don’t. And he doesn’t know my reasons.”
You do, Lucian said, something strange and tender creeping into his voice. You’d even forgive the princeling if he turned around right now and apologized.
I sighed. “I’m not sure you should be praising me for being so weak-willed.”
It’s not having a weak will. It takes great courage to be compassionate. Take care of yourself, Wynter, but don’t ever hate yourself for being kind or gentle or trusting.
“Says the demon who always thinks we should light people on fire,” I smirked.
I do have a reputation to uphold, he said. Gnashing teeth and all that.
“I guess we’ll see, Lucian. I have to return to Reverie, and I have no way of knowing how much, if anything, Alexander is going to tell everyone. If he tells anyone about you, I’m finished. If he tells everyone I’m not really from Argent, they’ll start looking more closely at me, and eventually, they’ll find something incriminating.”
This would’ve all been much easier if I’d let the princeling fall to his death.
“Maybe so, but I’d never have forgiven you. Plus, without him they’d never have let me through the gates in Argent.”
So what? Nothing but danger awaits you up there. Why go back at all?
I took a deep breath and weaved my way back through Argent, trying to remember which way it was to the cable cars. I could see them, slowly undulating above the city, rocking in the wind, and followed the thick cable like a compass.
Lucian’s question burned in my ears, but I had no response for it. It wasn’t just Alexander. Viviane knew I was a fraud of some kind, too. That was two people too many that knew the truth about me, if I didn’t count Dorian and Francisca. One of them was bound to tell eventually, and when one of them did, I knew I wouldn’t be able to talk my way out of it. My luck would run out. All I had was the slim hope Dorian would honor his promise, and I felt silly for believing in even that. He didn’t owe me anything.
I made my way to the station where the cable car would be leaving for Reverie. It was a chilly evening, the cold of winter not entirely chased away by the new spring. Frost settled over Argent, coating the marble and flowers with bright, star-like spots that sparkled under the yellow lamplight. The streets grew quiet as the merchants shut their doors, but the pubs were serving ale and beer. Already a few men stumbled past, smoking cigars with purpose. A few of them tipped their hats, their eyes trailing the line of my bodice. I searched for Alexander, but couldn’t find him. Hopefully, he’d be waiting for me at the tram to Reverie. If not, I’d have to figure out what to do. I had to confront Dorian, and make sure I finished the job I was hired for. That was my best chance for securing a better life for Briar and Sterling. Even if he didn’t buy us a lifetime of comfort in Argent, surely the job was worth enough money to escape my uncle.
I realized suddenly, I was returning with new information. Dorian had told me once, he was trying to recover stolen property. It had to be the artifacts entrusted to the Rosewood estate for safe-keeping; the ones Nick and Gwen had stolen to free the demons inside them. I turned the information over in my mind, wondering how valuable it was. Dorian would be disappointed with the answer. He couldn’t reclaim what had been destroyed. And it wasn’t just about the money; if the king found out the Rosewood vault was empty, Dorian could be tried for treason, or worse. No wonder he was so desperate to find the journal, he probably thought it would give him answers. If Dorian went down, I had no doubt he’d toss me to the wind. It all seemed so hopeless.
“Lucian,” I said softly, “Maybe you should go.”
Excuse me?
“You’re free now,” I whispered. “Once we’re in Reverie, I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you. I don’t know if Alexander is going to tell anyone what he knows, and if he does, I don’t know what those consequences will be. It’s too dangerous for you in Reverie.”
It’s dangerous for you, too.
I sighed. “But I don’t have a choice.”
As I approached the station, I caught the tell-tale sight of Alexander’s hair. I halted in my tracks and let out a calming breath of air. So he was there. He hadn’t left without me, but that didn’t mean he’d waited for me either.
“Alexander,” I said.
When he turned around, his face was hard to read, but he beckoned for me to join him. I walked to his side and stood quietly there, while we watched the cable car descend from Reverie.
“I already bought our tickets,” Alexander mumbled. He smelled like alcohol and I realized he’d been drinking.
“Thank you,” I replied.
Alexander nodded. There was a sort of rigidness to him that wasn’t normally present.
“About earlier—” I said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Alexander said curtly.
Don’t worry because he wouldn’t tell or because he’d forgiven me?
I’m not leaving you alone with the princeling, Lucian said. The mages accuse us of betrayal and deception, but they are the ones you need to watch out for.
“As you wish,” I replied.
I meant the reply more for Lucian, but Alexander nodded stiffly. My heart beat more quickly as the cable car came to a stop at the platform. Alexander headed to it. I trailed, so I could speak with Lucian a little longer.
“You don’t have to do this just to prove you’re better than him,” I whispered.
I don’t need to prove I’m better than him, Lucian replied. I just don’t want to see you hurt.
Alexander glanced at me. “Is Lucian coming, too?” he asked.
I nodded. “He’s a good friend,” I said.
Tell him to suck on a pinecone, Lucian said.
“That’s…good,” Alexander said.
“He’s better than I deserve,” I admitted honestly.
Alexander said nothing, not even when we boarded the cable car together. I pulled my feet up into the plush seat beneath us and leaned my head against the cool glass of the window. Soon, we were going up. Argent and Plumba spread like a quilt beneath us. A quilt that went from green to gray with a stark divide between them. Things must be getting worse in the Scraps. I’d seen the desperation in Gabriel’s eyes. His grip on power was slipping. And there must be even less food than usual, if they’d started hunting monsters. Which made it all the more urgent that I get Sterling and Briar out. The glass box rocked gently in the wind after we got a little higher. I began to feel sick and turned away from the window. I felt the heat of Alexander’s gaze and wondered if his eyes had been on me the whole time.
“Are we going with the unconscious story?” Alexander asked, lowering his voice. “We both fel
l and woke on the forest floor with no idea what happened?”
“If you think that’s best,” I said.
Alexander frowned. “I don’t know,” he replied. “It’s the best way to get around explaining the unexplainable. We should both be dead, Wynter.”
“I’ll agree with whatever story you like,” I said.
“You look like a wounded animal,” Alexander scowled.
I frowned, unsure what to say. Maybe I did. I felt a bit like one, a wounded and hunted animal, and here, I was—walking right into a den of hunters.
“I’m still angry you lied to me,” Alexander said. “And I don’t know how I feel about that. I think I’m going to be angry for a while. But Lucian saved my life because of you. And I don’t think you’re a threat to me or the crown. So I’ll keep your secret for now.”
So he’s going to play nice for now because it’s to his advantage, Lucian said. Or he might just be saying that, so you don’t run. Maybe he’ll let his father decide what to do with us.
“It’s too late to run,” I mouthed silently, “and weren’t you just extolling the virtues of kindness and forgiveness?”
Lucian sighed. They are things I admire about you, he admitted, but it isn’t your virtues I doubt. It’s his. Despite how accepting he’s been of me, he’s every bit as treacherous as the others. The instant you’ve outlived your usefulness, he’ll turn on you.
“And…” Alexander trailed off. “Maybe you were right. I’d have been less kind to you if you’d been honest about where you were from.” This admission took my breath away. Alexander looked miserable, like the truth was hard to face.
“I don’t think so,” I said, turning towards him again. “You only lashed out because I lied to you, and—”
“No,” Alexander replied. “No, I wasn’t as kind to you as I could’ve been, and when I first met you, when I thought you were from Argent, I insulted your home. If you’d been from Plumba, I’d have been…I’d have looked down on you. Even more than I already did. I’m sorry you felt the need to hide the truth from me.”
I shifted awkwardly, unaccustomed to being apologized to.
It wasn’t even a proper apology, Lucian said. I’d press him for a better one.
I knew Lucian was right, but at least he’d promised to stay quiet, for now. As we climbed above the edge of Reverie, past the teal waterfalls, golden domes and wide gardens, my pulse raced. Part of me felt like I was coming home, which was ridiculous. I’d been so afraid on my first trip to Reverie. This time, the risks seemed even higher, but I knew exactly what I was getting into. That had to count for something.
Six
WHEN WE STEPPED OUT IN Reverie, everyone was wearing black. I knew black was customarily worn after a relative died because Dorian and his family had worn it after Amelia’s death. But this was everyone.
“Whose death are they mourning?” I asked.
“Mine,” Alexander replied.
He walked easily through the crowd in the station. We drew a few looks, most of them disdainful. I felt an instinctive jolt of fear, although all these people couldn’t possibly know I was a fraud. I looked down at my dress, half expecting it to be covered in dirt and blood, but it was flawless. Maybe not exactly the style that was trending in Argent, but close enough, and very high quality. It was a little too fancy for day wear, but against the sea of black cloaks and dresses, it sparkled like a sapphire. I edged closer to Alexander.
“Why does everyone look so angry?” I whispered.
“Probably because we aren’t wearing black,” Alexander said wryly. “They think we’re dishonoring poor Prince Alexander’s memory.”
My eyes widened. “But you…”
“I’m neither the king nor the crown prince,” Alexander said. “Most people aren’t going to recognize me. I’d warrant even some of the lesser nobility—some of the barons, some of the governors—wouldn’t know my face.”
“It seems strange to mourn someone when you don’t even know what they look like.”
Alexander sighed. “They’re mourning what I am. Not who.”
We left the station and walked along the brick roads, each inset with a sphere of purple amethyst. Most of Reverie was made of crystal and glass, set in intricate metal structures. The view was as dazzling now as it had been when I’d first arrived. At that time, I’d been worried the whole floating continent would collapse under my feet. I noticed the large stone and marble blocks used in the foundations of the building. They must have weighed tons. The amount of magic it must take to keep all this in the air was staggering.
A pleasant breeze blew through my hair, and I sighed contentedly. Despite all my anxiety over returning to the Academy and Alexander potentially revealing me, it was a beautiful, I was wearing fresh clothes and had food in my stomach, and I was alive. A little more than a day ago, I’d slipped through a crack in the ground and plummeted to my death, and yet somehow I’d survived. It felt like a dream. I wished for just a few seconds that I really could be a mage walking with Alexander. No demons, no conspiracies, no family desperately needing me. But I was never going to belong here, not really. The best I could hope for was that Dorian would keep his promise and—eventually—set my Sterling and Briar up in a better place.
“Wynter,” Alexander said, as we approached the Academy. “You realize that the person responsible for all of this is probably one of our professors, right?”
“Yes,” I said. I’d realized it. But which one? Du Lac, Gareth, Delacroix, Celeste? I’d seen most of them fighting against the demons. Or one of the professors I hadn’t even spoken to yet? I knew there was Conrad, who taught dance. There was a potions professor and a rituals professor. A singing professor, too. Whoever it was probably using sigils, but even that wasn’t much of a clue. Lots of mages used sigils, even if that wasn’t their primary skill.
“But what can we do?” I asked.
“Look for answers,” Alexander replied. “Figure out who’s behind it all, and why. I said once, we’d make a good pair, you and me. And I wasn’t wrong. You or Lucian may be able to discover something that I can’t on my own.”
Aha, so that’s why he didn’t turn us in, Lucian said.
“For now, don’t trust anybody,” Alexander said. “And if you find anything, you come to me. Agreed?”
I nodded, and his shoulders seemed to relax slightly.
“Let’s talk to Viviane first, she might remember something about who was controlling her.”
“Sounds great,” I said.
When we approached the Academy’s familiar gates, there was an excited shout. A lanky, young man with blond hair literally ran to us. I didn’t recognize him, but he practically tackled Alexander, who made a sort of disgruntled growling noise.
“You’re alive!” the man exclaimed, punching Alexander’s shoulder.
“How did you—we thought you fell! How are you here?”
Alexander rubbed his shoulder, before breaking into a tense grin.
“I don’t know,” he said. “One second, I was falling. Then, I woke up in a forest.”
“Ugh! You don’t even remember how?”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
The man’s blue eyes landed on me. He grinned and grasped my hand. With a flourish, he bowed and kissed my knuckles. “And you brought back a pretty battle-mage! That’s even better! Which school did you attend?”
“This one,” I replied, gesturing towards the ornate iron gates of the academy.
“Wynter, this is my brother Hector,” Alexander said. “Hector, Wynter Wilcox.”
“Oh, you’re Rosewood’s pet!” Hector exclaimed.
I bristled at the remark. I might be a lot of things, but Dorian’s pet definitely wasn’t one of them.
“Is Father here?” Alexander interrupted.
Hector threw an arm over Alexander’s shoulders. “He is. Kit and Art are here, too,” Hector replied. “We came as soon as we heard.”
/> I followed them inside. Most of the Academy was empty, but I knew that was only because we’d arrived during classes. Once those were out, these corridors would be bustling. Voices drifted toward us, and Hector quickened his pace.
A man came around the corner. Since I’d known to expect him, it was easy to identify him as the king, even without the golden crown. He was wearing a dark suit and a long red cape lined with fur. Alexander had the same pale hair and blue eyes, and although the king’s face was lined around his eyes and forehead, I found similarities in the angular bones of his face. When he saw us, he froze and looked, for all the world, like he’d seen a ghost. And really, he had.
Du Lac and Celeste were a half-step behind the king. Du Lac, who’d always been very pale, looked nearly sickly wearing black. His jaw dropped at the sight of us, but even surprised, there seemed to be an accusatory gleam in his blue eyes. As if merely by surviving I’d done something wrong. Celeste took in an audible breath and raised a hand to her chest. For an instant, time seemed to freeze.
Then, Hector let out a hearty laugh. “Surprise!” he exclaimed.
King Gregory pulled Alexander into a firm hug, and I awkwardly waited aside, expecting to be lost in the shuffle. Not that I minded. Alexander’s family must have been so distraught.
I jumped when Celeste embraced me. She released me quickly but still held me at an arm’s length, her hands gentle on my arms. My eyes darted to her face, framed by smooth, white tendrils of hair. Her violet eyes were filled with such concern and tenderness that I felt a sharp spark of guilt for deceiving her. I averted my gaze to her arms, tattooed with silvery sigils. These were advanced sigils, complicated magic. I didn’t recognize any of them.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” Celeste said softly. “We were so worried. We thought we’d lost you.”
“For a while, I thought you had, too,” I replied. “But Alexander and I woke up in the forest. And we were fine. Mostly.” I gestured to my arm, which still bore the black stitches Sterling had given me. “We must have passed out trying to cast flotation spells.”
“Really?” Du Lac asked, crossing his arms. Did he suspect me already? He’d accused me once of releasing the demons and practicing dark magic. I realized also, that he’d already gotten the tiara he wanted me to steal from him. Why hadn’t he turned me in yet? What else did he want from me? I nodded, looking at Celeste rather than him.
