Seventh Born

by Monica Sanz

  “Sera,” he whispered. His hands eased from around her, though not enough to release her.

  “I’m here.” She turned slightly and settled his head on her lap as his body shivered beneath the sweat-drenched sheets. “I’m here, and you’re safe,” she assured him, stroking his damp hair until his breath settled into the even rhythm of sleep. She drew up the blanket he’d kicked off and covered him with the thick fabric.

  Leaning back against the headboard, she held him as he held her, hoping he knew, though unconscious, that in spite of his past, of what he believed, he deserved to be cared for, too.

  …

  Morning dawned to Sera pacing madly to and fro in her room. Barrington had fallen into a deep sleep after her spell and seemed to have finally found peace in his dreams. Now it was she who murmured, haunted by his memories.

  How? How could the answer have been before them this entire time? Even the Brotherhood had the person they sought under their noses—more, in their hands—and they failed to see it.

  She threw her wand onto the bed. The signs had been there. He’d said they both had secrets they wished they could erase. He’d told the Brotherhood he could help them find the Scrolls in exchange for her safety—

  Sera froze in place. Revealing his secret would have killed him. He would have died for her. It was no wonder his father was so worried and hadn’t allowed him back to school. He must have known Timothy was a Keeper. But the Brotherhood was getting too close, and he sought to ensure Timothy’s safety.

  And now Professor Barrington wasn’t there to help her with any of it.

  The door opened, and Mary entered the room, face still puffy from sleep. “Good morning—”

  “I need your help, desperately.” Sera swept to the door, kicked it closed with her foot, and dragged Mary to the bed. Unable to keep still, she paced before her. “There is something I’m about to ask of you, something important I need you to do. I can’t tell you much, but I swear I wouldn’t ask for your help if it weren’t important.”

  “You’re scaring me, Sera…”

  “I must speak with Timothy at once. Will you still write to him for me?”

  Mary blinked. “Timothy? But I thought—”

  “I need to speak to him, Mary. His life could be in danger if I don’t.”

  Her eyes widened. “Danger? What? Why? Did your inspector tell you this? Tell me what’s happening. I’m scared. Are you in some sort of trouble?”

  “No, I’m not, but Timothy is if I don’t get to him before—”

  Mary paled. “It’s the men from the forest, isn’t it? What do they want with him?”

  Sera sat down beside her, forcing herself to remain calm. “There’s something he knows. Something they want and have been searching ages for, but he will die if he tells them. That’s all I can tell you. Can you do this for me?”

  “Of—of course. I will write him.” She swept to the writing desk, snatched up Sera’s quill and paper, and began the letter. “I’ll tell him that I…that I wish to speak to him about the Solstice night. I’m sure he’ll take any opportunity to learn of how you’ve been.” She spoke as she wrote. “Is there anything I should mention that will clue him in to it being you who wants to see him?”

  Sera weaved hands into her hair. “Tell him to meet you in the room where he asked you if there was hope.”

  Mary’s hand paused mid-stroke. “But he didn’t ask me if— Oh! Very clever.”

  “Tell him that you changed your mind and want to discuss things with him again.”

  Mary wrote in haste and signed her name at the end. Folding the note, she rose. “I will have this sent to him right away, marked urgent. But please, stay safe.” She strode to the door, but Sera stopped her and hugged her.

  “Thank you for everything, Mary. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She smiled widely, though something of sadness clouded her eyes. “What are friends for?” Mary stuffed the letter into her cloak pocket. “I will meet you in class.”

  Sera closed the door behind Mary and leaned against the wood. There was no way she could survive class that morning. All she had the strength to do was to pray their letter would be enough to keep Timothy safe and that, after all she had done, prayers still worked for someone like her.

  …

  Forgiveness was granted her later the next day in the form of Mary bursting through the door. She held a letter up in the air, triumphant. She met Sera halfway into the room, and they both collapsed onto the floor. Mary tore open the Delacort seal.

  My beautiful Mary,

  It seems you’ve enchanted fate, as my father was out when the postman arrived and the letter came straight to me. I’ve been thinking of you, constantly. Imminent exams or thoughts of a future hold little weight next to the future I hoped to have with you, a future I still think of. A future I will not give up on. I will meet you at our place and hopefully come morning, you and I will no longer be a dream.

  I leave with you my heart and love,

  Timothy

  “Oh, Sera.” Mary pressed the note to her heart. “Are you sure not one ounce of you can love him? Not even the edge of a nail or a strand of hair? These words are a dream.”

  Sera frowned and snatched the letter from her hands. “Focus, Mary. This is about keeping him safe. If it breaks his heart to know I lured him in, I will take all the blame, but I’m sure he will be happy to know that in spite of my deception, I’ve done it with his well-being in mind.” She strode to the fireplace, but Mary intercepted her and snatched back the letter.

  “May I keep it? One real love letter—a true love letter.”

  “Mary…”

  “Please, Sera. If my mother asks, I can appease her with this. Give me this, please.”

  Sera looked to the letter in Mary’s hands and nodded. It was the least she could do—give her this one taste of true love, even if only borrowed.

  26

  It Was You

  Midnight dawned just as the girls reached the door hidden behind the Astronomy bookcase. Even in the dark, Sera discerned Mary’s wide eyes and palpable excitement. Not to mention she declared it every other step.

  “This is exciting and so romantic. I hope we’re not caught,” Mary whispered for the umpteenth time.

  “We will be if you aren’t quiet,” Sera murmured over her shoulder.

  “Sorry. I’m nervous. My heart is beating in my throat.”

  Sera stopped. “Are you sure you want to do this? After we enter the library, there’s no turning back. If we are caught…”

  “If we’re caught, I can pretend it was me who snuck out and you were trying to get me to turn back. The headmistress will be much more lenient with me than you.” She nodded, determined. “You need me here.”

  Sera let out a breath and pressed her wand to the wall. “Very well. By the stars.”

  The door clicked, and the bookcase opened. Sera peeked inside, keenly focused on the long shadows cast by the threads of silver moonlight. The library was, for the time being, empty. She ushered Mary inside and through the aisles to the Ethical Magic section. She touched her wand to the books there. “Right above all else.”

  The bookcase creaked open. Mary took firm hold of Sera’s hand and squeezed inside. Sera rushed in behind her but bumped into her best friend and ricocheted back against the now-closed bookcase.

  She rubbed at where her head had collided with the wall. “Goodness, Mary, why did you stop—”

  She cut off. A hooded figure stood in the alcove before them, its shadow a monster against the wall. Sera’s hand flinched to her wand.

  “Cool it, Dovetail.” Whittaker lowered his hood. “Timothy asked me to escort you down to the tunnel.”

  Sera shifted before Mary. “Why should we trust you?”

  He shrugged wide shoulders. “How else would I have known he plans on meeting you two here? Now can we go? I’ve done enough to make sure we aren’t caught. I made a huge mess in the potions laboratory, the rec
tory, and the greenhouse. The servants were called to clean it up, so these halls will be clear for now. If you hurry, we can be in and out in no time.”

  Still, she lingered. Mary looked to her, awaiting their next move. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I may have no allegiance to you, but Timothy’s my friend.” He cast a quick glance up and down the hall. “Besides, if I do this for him, I won’t need to worry about the Aetherium entrance exam. He will make sure his father signs off on my entrance papers. Seems like I’ll be an inspector before you, Dovetail. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll be working under me.”

  He winked, and bile rushed into her throat. The boy was a parasite. “Let us hope not. Lead the way.”

  Wand at his side, he spun to the labyrinth of halls. “If anyone sees us, pretend I caught the two of you sneaking around. I’ll tell them I’m taking you to the headmistress. You play along.”

  Sera and Mary eyed each other. Mary shrugged.

  “Fine, but the moment I feel you’re up to no good—”

  “You’ll set me on fire. Yes, I’ve been on the other end of that before, seventhborn.”

  They moved this way and that, their bodies tight against the wall and Mary’s hand firm in her own. Sera remembered the path loosely and was glad to find Whittaker didn’t lead them astray. Finally they approached the plain stone wall where the hall branched off into two. Timothy swept through it like the wall didn’t exist. Relief flooded her. Shock followed as Timothy brushed past Whittaker and Mary and took her into his arms. Face buried in the crook of her neck, he hauled in her scent, his hold firm. Sera stiffened but forced herself to relax and hug him back.

  Whittaker made a sound of disgust. “How about we move this to somewhere more private, you know, where we won’t get expelled if we’re caught?”

  Timothy released her slightly and, inching back, ran his gaze along her face. He tangled his fingers with hers, led the group to the stone wall, and pressed his wand against it.

  They swept inside, all except Whittaker. “I’ll patrol the halls and keep everyone from this way. Signal when you need me.”

  Once safely inside, Timothy walked to the library door, but Mary didn’t follow.

  “I’ll stay here,” she said.

  “No one can see through the wall,” Sera said. “You don’t need to guard it.”

  “And there is plenty of space inside,” Timothy added and opened the door to prove his point.

  Mary glanced inside and shrugged sheepishly. “Still, it’s been weeks since the two of you last saw each other. I’ll wait out here. Go, I’ll be fine.”

  Sera noted the pain in her eyes, the desire to disappear if she could. She squeezed her hand. “We won’t be long.”

  Timothy stepped aside and allowed Sera to enter, then closed the door behind them.

  “Mr. Delacort,” she started, but his head came to a rest at the back of hers, and she silenced. His hands smoothed onto her shoulders, gentle, as if he feared she would break if he held her any tighter.

  “I’ve missed you so much.” He spoke into her hair. “I thought I’d lost you the night of the dance, but when I got your letter…”

  Sera spun, realizing then just how close he was, to where her nose brushed his when she gazed up at him. “We need to talk.”

  “In a minute,” he whispered and pressed his lips against hers.

  Sera gripped his lapels and pulled away gently. “Please, we haven’t much time.”

  “What’s so important that it can’t wait one minute?” he said against her lips.

  “I know who you are.”

  He smiled. “The man who loves you?”

  She met his eyes. “A Keeper.”

  He blinked, the simple action destroying the joy that had shaded his stare. Stiff, his hands fell away from her. His throat pulsed as he gulped, all color fading from his face.

  “Timothy…”

  He released a shuddering breath and shifted back. Sera reached a hand for him, but he snatched his arm away and walked across the room.

  “Timothy, please.”

  “Who are you?” He sat down before the great fireplace, hands clasped between his knees, and stared at the flames. “Did they send you? Are you here to kill me?”

  Firelight made the shadows in the room dance and seemed to bring the tapestries to life. Sera crossed the room under the watchful gaze of the seven Guardians whose eyes she felt followed her as she sat at his side. “That’s what I’m trying to prevent. I would never and have never meant you any harm.”

  He chuckled bitterly. “Funny, as it’s always been you to cause me the greatest pain.”

  “I never meant to.”

  “A lot of things were never meant to happen, yet they did.” He shrugged. “I was never supposed to know this damned spell, yet here we sit.”

  “How did you come about the spell? I thought it was passed down from Sister to Sister, but you’re clearly not a Sister.”

  “When the Brother in the forest mentioned knowing my father, I wanted it to be a lie. I asked my father about it, and he confessed everything—that he was involved with the Brotherhood and he…” Timothy let out a shaky sigh and looked at Sera. “He hunted Sisters of Mercy and seventhborns alike. Until one day he was away and two Sisters found their way into my home. I was five. They told me they had a secret to tell me and that I had to guard it with my life. They said I was special, chosen.” He smiled, pained. “I thought they were angels, and in my innocence, I agreed. We made an oath, my first oath. A blood oath. The Sister died instantly and was taken away by the other. I was left to tell my father that I was the next Keeper.”

  A myriad of curses swelled in Sera’s throat. “You were just a child. Why curse you for what your father did?”

  He shrugged and leaned forward, elbows to knees. “Can you blame them? For ages they’ve been hunted.” He motioned weakly to the portrait of Professor Barrington’s father and other Purists by the door. “My father and Professor Barrington’s father ultimately led this bloody campaign against the Sisters, searching for these spells. Not to mention their research in the dungeons…” He fisted his hair and shook his head. “They tortured seventhborns so that they could perfect the black magic they would use to raise the Keepers.”

  “Dear God…”

  “The Sisters did what they thought was best to stop them. Once I told my father what had happened, he cut off all ties with the Brotherhood and distanced himself—reformed himself, even if it was all a lie. He loved me above the Brotherhood. I was the one thing he wouldn’t sacrifice.

  “Professor Barrington’s father refused to let him abandon their cause, so my father—now an upstanding member of the Aetherium and a champion of seventhborns—blamed him first and let him take the fall. No one believed Professor Barrington’s father afterward.”

  Sera cupped her mouth. Could she believe a story told by Timothy’s father? That Professor Barrington’s father was truly a madman, a murderer? She shut her eyes, briefly recalling Professor Barrington’s somberness as he professed his father’s goodness. Pain spread in Sera’s chest. If Barrington heard this tale, surely it would destroy him.

  “He did it so I would be safe, but all those lives lost… How could I ever forgive him?”

  “As long as the Brotherhood and the Sisters of Mercy exist, you will never be safe. But I know someone who can help.”

  Pity saturated his next smile. “My father is on the Aetherium council, Sera. If I needed to be hidden, they’d be able to keep me safe.”

  She rose quickly. “Then you must go to him, now. Your spell is the last the Brotherhood needs, and whether it’s a myth or not, they are determined to get it. In spite of everything, you have to go to your father.”

  He gazed up at her, defeat in his eyes. “So that I’ll be forced into hiding? To never live a normal life? To never see you again, all for the sake of some ridiculous feud and secret?”

  “No, not for some ridiculous feud and secret, but for your life. What
ever you think you feel for me is not worth that. You have to go, let them protect you.”

  He shook his head slowly. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and now you’re asking me to just disappear? I can’t—how can I? Since the day of your entrance exam, I haven’t been able to keep you from my thoughts.”

  She stumbled back as if pushed. “You…you were there?” There had been a room full of robed, stern-faced, icy-eyed men in a semicircle, asking her to perform basic magic. They’d then demanded her to tell what little she knew of the life she remembered, and of her experience with Noah. They’d watched her in disgust as she detailed his cruelty, and with each word the room felt to close in around her. Her stomach had roiled, a mix of nerves and anger at being put on display like a caged animal. A pariah. Anything but human.

  She spun and tugged her cloak closed as though she stood naked before him. “You should’ve told me you were there.”

  Timothy caught her gently by the shoulders. “I wasn’t supposed to be. My father allowed me to watch from the upper level, to see what went into the selection process of the next seventhborn. You never once gazed up at me, but I saw you, and since that day you’re all I see.”

  He twined his fingers in hers and drew her down next to him. “The way you go about your life, never needing anyone, carrying the weight of being a seventhborn on your shoulders. You’ve never once let it sway you, never once let it stop you or break you down. I thought—no, I knew—you would be the only one to understand what it is like to live with this burden I carry. You inspired me. I began to think that if you still dreamed above your own situation, I could, too, come what may.” He brushed a thumb lightly against her jaw. “You changed my life.”

  She opened her mouth but no words came.

  “Come with me,” he said, his forehead against hers, a cool hand at her cheek. He encouraged her face upward. “You’re in as much danger, and I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to you. We will be safe. You saved me the day of your entrance exam. Let me save you.”