Eden Undone (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 2)

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Eden Undone (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 2) Page 6

by A. R. Meyering


  The struggle at the front door ended abruptly and the sound of Annette’s petticoats and skirts rushed toward them.

  “Stop right there!” the actress cried. The boy’s legs froze mid-step. “You won’t be able to make that fire anymore. You can’t fight back.”

  Thirty seconds of strained silence passed before the masked youth realized he had been completely immobilized.

  What have you done to me!?” whined the boy. “You bastards. Change me back or you’ll regret it!”

  “Quiet down, you,” Simon said, smacking the youth over the head with his top hat, though he still sounded and looked a shade uncomfortable. The boy struggled against the bonds they’d used to secure him to a chair in the center of Annette’s sitting room.

  “You’re going to be the first to go, mustache-man! I swear by Heaven I’ll―”

  “Silence,” Hector commanded. The dangerous quality of his gentle tone quieted the boy to only discontent mutterings.

  “Let’s see who you really are, then,” Hector murmured and the boy gave a sudden cry.

  “Don’t you dare touch my mask. I swear you’re going to pay for this―hey!”

  Hector pulled the mask away, revealing the boy’s face. Penny was shocked to see how young he was, with a pale, smooth face just beginning to show high cheekbones and a sharp jaw. The boy kept his eyes so tightly closed that his face was wrinkled with the effort.

  “Open your eyes, kid,” Simon egged.

  “Here’s an idea. How about you go f—”

  “That’s quite enough!” Hector interjected. “I didn’t want for it to come to this―but it looks like we’re going to have to resort to drastic measures. Simon, will you fetch the tools?”

  Simon faltered for just a moment before catching on. “Oh no, Hector. That’s just too cruel. Show some mercy, he’s only a child,” he cried.

  “After what he has done, a trip to the utmost reaches of agony should be fitting,” Hector said with velvety malice in his tone that was so unaccustomed to his usual gentleness that Penny almost laughed. It was enough to fool the boy, and his eyes popped open at once.

  “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me. I’ll do whatever you want,” he yelped, his wrathful snarl turning to an expression of dire fear as tears dripped down his face. Straight bangs covered his eyes as he kept his face pointed downward. Simon and Hector shared a quick, victorious grin before Hector turned back to the youth.

  “Very well, then. We’ll do this the easy way. Tell us your name,” Hector prompted and the boy swallowed thickly.

  “Gordon…Hollyhock,” he murmured.

  “Liar,” Argent hissed from where he lounged on the sofa, pulling out a coin-shaped item from his pocket. Penny immediately recognized it as the Inquisitor’s Eye. The boy chanced a look to see what Argent held in his hand, and when his eyes became visible to the room, Penny, Simon, and Hector gasped.

  The boy’s eyes were two strikingly different colors. While the left was dark sienna, the right was a vibrant crimson. At their reactions, the boy turned his face away again, clearly distressed that they had noticed. Penny and Hector exchanged a meaningful glance and she stepped closer to whisper into his ear.

  “His eye. Could that be what I think it is?”

  “It very well could be. Let’s find out what he knows,” Hector replied covertly. “Your real name, please,” he ordered louder. The boy gave a moaned and his lips quivered.

  “Pl-please. Don’t make me say it.” His voice shook and he kept his face pointed toward the floor as tears dripped off his nose and fell to the ground. “Please don’t turn me into a wraith. I’m sorry. I never th-thought…”

  “Wraith?” Penny exclaimed, taken aback. “Why would you think that we are the ones turning people into wraiths?”

  The boy looked at her in surprise, and Penny shivered as she looked into his mismatched eyes. “You’re all witches! I saw you out there. You make magic out of nothing, control people’s souls with your words, you touched me and I saw my memory again, felt them—and you felled the Angelic Lord! Everyone says it’s you who’s been making the wraiths,” the boy whimpered. He looked a touch humiliated when everyone broke into incredulous laughter.

  “I think you’ve got us confused with Nestor’s lackeys, kid,” Argent said, still gripping his burnt shoulder. “We’re the ones fighting the wraith-makers. See for yourself—don’t take my word for it.” He passed the Inquisitor’s Eye to Hector, who then showed the boy.

  “But that…” the boy murmured in amazement, his eyebrows furrowing.

  “Please, just tell us your name, or I’ll have to force you to,” Annette added sleepily from her chair, opening her eyes to glare at him. She was already on the verge of passing out, the use of her power having drained her energy.

  “I―I call myself Noct,” he admitted. “I’m the last son of the house of Gray. I have a different given name, but I don’t go by it.”

  Penny shared a glance with the others, shrugging as if to say that was good enough for her.

  “All right, Mister Gray. Why did you attack me? Did Rhea hire you? Is that why she didn’t try to kill me at the castle tonight? Is she trying to keep this quiet?” she demanded, but before he could answer, Hector, Simon, Annette, and Argent all piped up in confusion.

  Realizing she had yet to tell them the events of the night, Penny gestured the group to huddle around her and frantically whispered a summary of what had happened, starting with meeting Armonie on the porch.

  “So, after Noah sent me home this maniac over here charges at me from out of nowhere and starts tossing fireballs left and right,” Penny segued, turning back to Noct with her hands on her hips. Noct’s lip trembled again. “I saw you stalking around at the festival, by the way―and outside my window last night,” she added, catching Hector’s eye.

  “So, young man, now I believe it’s time you gave us some answers. You can either tell us the truth in its entirety―and we’ll know if you’re being honest,” Hector said, holding up the Inquisitor’s Eye, then gesturing to a pouting Annette, “or she can help you to. Is that understood?”

  Noct’s expression turned sour. “Oh, you must think you’re so clever, saying all this like you’re giving me a choice. Stop treating me like I’m a child. I’m thirteen—practically an adult, you pompous ass!”

  Hector folded his hands behind his back and stared at Noct until the boy’s temper deflated.

  “Look, I’m not working for Rhea, I’m not working for anybody. And I’m sorry for attacking you. I never wanted anyone to get hurt, honestly!”

  “But you’ve been stalking me for the last two days and you threatened to kill Simon to get away with it. Don’t you understand how serious that is?” Penny interjected.

  “Well, you all tried to kill me, too! I was just trying to protect myself,” Noct began, then reconsidered when Hector glared. “Look, I just want to help my sister!”

  “Your sister?” Simon asked.

  “Yes, she’s in trouble, I mean she’s been in trouble for a while,” Noct mumbled, appearing very guarded. “Two years ago she was kidnapped and I’ve been trying to get her back. I’ve gone to Aulbaine to try and rescue her, but the imperial city is impossible to get into, even to someone as gifted as me—”

  Noct was interrupted by a somber laugh from Argent. “Sorry to break it to you kid, but if she was taken by faeries, if she’s a changeling, then there’s nothing you can do. She’s probably long gone.”

  “No, that’s not true,” Noct shot back. “She’s not dead. She and I, we’re twins. I’d know if she was dead.” He spoke with utmost seriousness, but Argent did not look convinced. Penny was the first one to break the silence.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but what exactly is a changeling?” Penny asked.

  Annette’s expression darkened. “A changeling is a child that’s been stolen away by faeries. It’s a horrific crime that’s been going on throughout history. The children are taken unwillingly from their families, o
r even worse, sold off by parents who are unable to care for them, or are desperate for money, or something awful like that. Faeries don’t reproduce the same way humans or elves do. They lay one egg every half a century and incubate it in a silken sack until it hatches. The eggs will often get damaged before the faerie child will have a chance to be born, and faeries don’t naturally live longer than one hundred and ten years, so there’s a real population problem for their kind.”

  “That’s where the changelings come in,” Argent chimed in, his expression grim. “The faerie race is unique in that they are able to consume the remaining years that any child of the Six High Races has left and, in essence, prolong their lives indefinitely.”

  Simon’s face was pinched in horror and he swallowed. “What happens to the kids after their time is ‘consumed?’”

  “They die, of course. And not in the quiet, peaceful way, either. It’s been a huge social issue for thousands of years here in Elydria, and the all the Nations are constantly trying to put a stop to it, but we all know that the faerie royals don’t have five-hundred-year reigns without help. Lately they’ve been cracking down on it and only the richest and most powerful faeries are able to get ahold of changelings, but it’s still more common than anyone would like to admit.” Argent shrugged, and then turned morosely to Noct, who seemed very confused about why this explanation had been necessary. “It might be tough to accept, but your sister’s probably dead.”

  “I thought so too, at first,” Noct said, still fighting with the cords that bound him to the chair. “But then I heard rumors.”

  “Rumors?” Hector asked, intrigued. Noct looked around at them as if unwilling to say any more, then seemed to remember that he had no freedom to withhold what he knew.

  “About a year after she was taken, I heard the people at the orpha―at my home talking about the Nation of Faeries. This was just about the time the magic shortage was beginning to be a real problem and all the other Nations economies were crashing, but the Faeries’ empire stayed strong, and still is. You should know that.”

  “It’s true,” Argent agreed. “The Nation of Faeries still remains fairly rich in raw magic, but of course they’re keeping their sources closely guarded, and they’ve never been too keen on foreign relations. But what does this have to do with changelings?”

  “It was a clue, just a small one, but it got my attention,” Noct explained. “You have to understand that my sister and I are different from everyone else. We’ve got a gift that sets us apart.”

  “And what might that be?” Annette inquired, seeming well aware that Noct’s gift may be meaningful to them.

  “It’s…well, I’m guessing you already know. You’ve got a gift, too,” Noct said, looking at Annette. “I noticed that about you a long time ago. We went to see one of your plays once, my whole family did. My sister and I saw it right away when you started to sing.” The boy turned to Hector. “You too. It’s in your hands, isn’t it? It’s why you can work that showy magic. Am I right?”

  Everyone sat in stunned silence. Suddenly, Simon gave a whoop.

  “It’s the eyes of Seival! Don’t you see? I’ve figured it out!” he proclaimed joyously. His exuberant expression fell when Argent and the others looked at him in disbelief. Realizing this had been obvious to everyone, Simon cleared his throat and looked at the floor. Hector shook his head, then turned to Noct with a begrudging look of admiration.

  “Clever assumption, but my magic is something completely unrelated to my ‘gift,’ as it were. How can you tell we have these attributes?” Hector questioned and Noct scoffed.

  “Well, that’s easy. I can see it, clear as day.” He shrugged. “The same way I can see magic. My sister can too, and that’s why I know she’s alive.”

  “You can see magic?” Argent was at once very interested and leaned forward, then groaned in pain.

  Annette fluttered to his side, grabbing a tin of soothing balm. “Honestly. You’re going to hurt yourself even more. Let me give you some more medicine, and some bandages while I’m at it―ah, ah! Hold still!” Holding his arm firmly, Annette began to rub the medicine onto his shoulder. Argent’s face turned pink and Simon shifted uncomfortably.

  “Well, of course I can see magic. I can see it in you, too. You’re a strong crafter, I can tell,” Noct continued after Argent had settled down. He chanced a smug grin before looking over at Penny. “You’ve got a ton of magic, also―but it’s weird, like a different flavor of magic. And you, you’ve got a different type too, old man,” Noct added, gesturing at Hector with a nod of his head.

  “Old man?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Noct shot back. “You can’t possibly be younger than what, forty-eight at the least?”

  “I’ll have you know I only recently turned thirty, and you’ve no right to make such ludicrously offensive assumptions―forty-eight. Bah. Stuff and nonsense!” Hector threw his arms defensively over his chest and strode around the room in agitation. Penny smiled behind her hand as Noct rolled his wildly colored eyes.

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “Outrageous. I’ve half a mind to―”

  “Hey, hey! We’re getting sidetracked.” Argent said and craned his neck to look past Annette as she fussed over him and wrapped bandages clumsily around his shoulder. “So, the faeries remain prosperous, and you and your sister can see magic. Fantastic, we’ll have to exploit that later on. But why did that prove she’s still alive?” he asked and received a chastising glare from Annette. “Just a joke, Little Miss.”

  “Well, I wasn’t completely certain, so I had to find out for sure if she was alive or not. I searched around for about half a year, getting as much information as I could, and I found out quite a bit. The Empress of Faeries, apparently she’s an avid collector of rare artifacts, and people. I heard through a couple of sources that she’s got a whole hoard of stuff stocked away at the palace in Umbrie-Alantier and she’s obsessed with meeting famous and talented people from across the world, only they don’t always come back.” He looked around to gauge their reactions.

  “Anyway, while I was looking around I met a faerie who’d worked at the palace, but retired in Iverton. It took the rest of the family fortune to get him to spill his secrets, but he finally admitted to me that the Empress had adopted a little human girl who was the prize of her collection. He told me that she and the Emperor were constantly fighting about this girl, for whatever reason. That was enough for me. I’m sure that he was talking about my sister, and I’ve been trying to rescue her ever since. Only it hasn’t gone as smoothly as I’d hoped.”

  “That’s kind of stretching it, don’t you think kid? I mean, that girl could be anyone,” Simon said, but Noct shook his head.

  “No, it’s definitely her. It’s got to be.” Noct clenched his fist. “You’ve probably guessed it by now, but that’s the reason I was trying to kidnap you,” he said, looking at Penny. “I worked so hard to get to Umbrie-Alantier last time, and I prepared myself for a fight too.” Noct smiled haughtily, tiny sparks of fire crackling around his head. “But even with the skills that I gained in my travels, I wasn’t able to get inside. I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough, so I decided to try a different approach. After what I heard about you, I guessed that the Empress would probably do anything to get her hands on Penelope Fairfax, the girl who defeated Nestor. So, I sought you out, hoping that I could trade you for my sister, only―”

  “Only that’s about the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,” Penny jumped in, caught half-way between a laugh and a rebuke. “What were you thinking?”

  Noct flushed crimson and frowned down at his feet. “I dunno. It seemed like a good plan at the time. I just wanted to help Mia, and I―”

  “You were just doing what you thought was right,” Annette finished with tenderness. “And because you’re just a silly kid you really didn’t understand the consequences of what might’ve happened, did you? You had no idea that we’d all be so powerful, and when we fought back you realized you w
ere in over your head. Isn’t that right, Noct?”

  Noct seemed stunned at her words, but Simon even more so.

  “Annette, how can you possibly be defending him? He would’ve delighted in roasting us all alive. He’s a monster!” he insisted, but Annette shook her head.

  “He’s not a monster, he’s just a child who’s been given way too much power and has no idea what to do with it. I know because that was how I felt. I’ve made those mistakes.” She smiled, bittersweet nostalgia swimming in her eyes. “Besides, we’ve got to figure out how to trust him eventually and work together, because if we ever want to set the world right again, we’re going to need him and that sister of his on our side.”

  Penny’s stomach clenched as she realized that Annette was right, and judging from their anxious expressions, everyone else was coming to the same conclusion. Noct, however, was caught in a fit of intense befuddlement as he looked from Hector to Penny to Annette.

  “What the hell are you all on about?”

  Argent scratched his head, looking tired. “Sit still, kid, we’ve got quite a story to tell you.” He pointed lazily at the Inquisitor’s Eye in Hector’s hand. “Try to keep your eyes on that, and your jaw off the floor.”

  What’s going on?” Penny mumbled to Simon as she walked into the dining room, yawning and desperate for tea. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, then pointed toward Argent and Hector.

  “The resident geniuses are trying to find some way to get to Aulbaine and somehow get inside Umbrie-Alantier. It’s been pretty comical so far, you might want to listen in,” Simon said derisively and Argent stopped mumbling midsentence to glare at him.

  “You know, Simon, you have this wonderful talent of making yourself look like a complete moron. You should probably put it to use somehow—oh wait, isn’t that exactly what you did on stage back in your home world?” Argent taunted.

  Simon’s face flushed. “I’ve had about enough of your―”

 

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