The Hand Collector

by Marian Gray

  I shook my head. “It’s not, though. They all got hurt in some way because of me, with the exception of your cousin, Professor Godkin.”

  He tossed up his hands. “How conceited can you be to believe you were some divine inspiration for Maxwell Raby’s grotesque pursuit?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. It’s not like that.”

  I was surprised he hadn’t pieced it together yet. Idris had read Dr. Raby’s book. He knew where Dr. Raby’s specialty lay as well as my family history. He was there the night I couldn’t access the stiziology department or pull the remaining organics. I folded my hands in my lap, waiting for the bullet, waiting for him to accuse of me of my ultimate sin.

  “Then, please, enlighten me. What is it like, Zuri?”

  But he didn’t. Perhaps he was too blinded by the previous evening’s traumatic event and his current emotional wounds to see that I was a flup and Dr. Raby had been breaking the law in order to ensurw I pass my classes through regular oil injections.

  “Just like I don’t understand the inner workings of the whitehands and the whitehand noblesse, you don’t understand blackhands and the blackhand noblesse. There were things going on, strings being pulled that I didn’t even know were being pulled until… you.”

  His eyebrows narrowed. “Were you in any way a part of those attacks?”

  The question twisted my stomach into knots. “No! Absolutely not!”

  Idris slumped back into his bed. Exhaustion washed over his face. He rubbed his hands across his forehead, massaging the temples. “I can’t handle this right now.” His breath stifled. “I’m weak, tired, and emotionally drained.” I watched as his chest rose and fell, pulling in and pushing out the air in rhythmic motions. His lungs pumped as though he had just finished a light jog. “If what you want is to pretend as though the last year didn’t happen, then I’ll play along, Lady Ebenmore.”

  The formality stung, but that was the point. I had hurt him, and now, he was going to hurt me too. I would’ve let him use me as an emotional punching bag, but I couldn’t take it. I rolled over, pulled my blankets around me, and looked anywhere but at him.

  The two of us laid there in dead silence.

  Uncle Hank, Aunt Margot, and Ross arrived not long after. They fretted and fussed over me. Aunt Margot was particularly aghast at the wound in my upper arm. She couldn’t believe that I had been stabbed. But it wasn’t my injuries that had me shaken. It was the fact that in a single twenty-four hours I had lost two meaningful relationships and killed a man.

  Dr. Raby was a monster, but he hadn’t always been that way in my eyes. For the vast majority of the time I knew him, he was a mentor and a friend. He made me feel normal and empowered me through his knowledge and research. He had ruined many lives but renewed mine.

  And then I stabbed him in the neck with an amputation knife.

  I didn’t know how I was going to get over this. I didn’t know how I was going to get over any of this.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The following days were marked by a parade of interviews from the Sightless Sons, the local police, Chancellor Day, and several Blacksaw University board members. Uncle Hank and Aunt Margot sat in on all of the questioning with Aunt Margot providing answers almost as often as I was.

  After a week, things finally settled. I returned to my chamber, though it seemed quite empty with only Ross and I there.

  “Try sleeping in here by herself after two girls get their hands removed, one girl drops out, and the other is attacked by the Hand Collector—it starts to feel cursed,” Ross had said. “I ended up crashing in another chamber that had a free bed.”

  I didn’t blame her.

  While I finished the semester, Uncle Hank and Aunt Margot stayed in Lilledoorn. Aunt Margot claimed they needed a vacation and with the end of the year soiree on the horizon, what better place to holiday than Lilledoorn. In reality, it was their excuse to remain nearby and keep an eye on me. I wasn’t bothered by it. In fact, I appreciated their company. Every weekend Ross and I took the ferry into town and spent both days with my uncle and aunt. It kept my mind off the whirlwind that had blown through and limited my chances of running into Idris.

  But I couldn’t hide from him forever.

  The air was light and warm in the campus courtyard. A four-string quartet plucked away on its own in one corner while cocktails circulated the mixed crowd. As was Chancellor Day’s style, peacocks pranced around the grounds, fanning their feathers to the guests’ delight. Tiny orbs of light floated overhead, casting a gentle glow onto our faces as the sun set upon the lake. It painted the dark turquoise waters into an array of reds, golds, and purples. I stopped to watch, sipping on my fruity drink as Anouk came and joined me.

  “Lovely, isn’t it?” She asked. A champagne-colored summer dress hung from her shoulders and flapped carelessly in the breeze. “I’m going to miss Blacksaw over the summer.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You live in Lilledoorn.” She had probably seen Blacksaw from her bedroom window every day of her life.

  “I didn’t say I’m going to miss Lilledoorn,” she hissed. “Just my freedom. I didn’t realize how many rules my parents had until I didn’t have to abide by them anymore. I’m sure you understand the sentiment.”

  I had suffered similarly over the winter, but this break felt different. “I’m actually looking forward to going home. I miss my mom.” Given how dangerous it was, communication between was greatly limited. Even visiting her for New Year’s had felt like a huge risk.

  “Your mom?” She repeated. Disbelief colored her words. Everyone in this world seemed to forget she existed. Since Uncle Hank and Aunt Margot had somewhat became my guardians, a new narrative emerged that credited them with raising me.

  “Yes, I’m going to stay with the undermen over the break.”

  She inhaled quickly, and her eyes widened. “That’s rather unbecoming.”

  “What’s rather unbecoming?” A man asked as he approached from behind. He placed two black-inked hands on Anouk’s shoulders and smiled. His hair was white, his skin deathly pale, and his eyes a light shade of violet. But the pair shared a similar button nose and gap between their front teeth.

  “Zuri was just telling me that she plans to spend her summer with the undermen,” Anouk explained.

  “Lady Zuri Ebenmore.” His eyes flashed. “I don’t believe we’ve had the opportunity to meet. I’m Lord Rens Volkerink, Anouk’s father.”

  “It’s pleasure to meet you.” There was something about him that was so odd, it was captivating. It made me feel uneasy, but I couldn’t look away.

  “The pleasure’s all mine.” He cleared his throat. His voice was as sharp as a poisoned dart. “And I agree with my daughter. Your stay with the undermen sounds rather unfortunate. If you are in need of more appropriate accommodations, you are more than welcome to stay with us in Lilledoorn. Our doors are always open to Anouk’s friends.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled, attempting to appear as gracious as possible. “But I’m actually looking to my time away. I need a moment to breathe and clear my mind.”

  Rens Volkerink nodded his head. His eyes dipped to the yellow and green bruises that peppered my neck. “I understand. You’ve had quite the year. Between finding victims of the Hand Collector, struggling to keep on top of your studies, going against your own, and becoming a victim yourself—I’m sure some time for rest and reflection is needed.”

  “Going against my own?” My body stiffened, worried that he was referring to Idris.

  “Yes, it must have been very difficult to attack Dr. Maxwell Raby instead of letting him bring down Idris Young once and for all. Only a person of superior moral fiber could pull off such a feat.” His hands fell from Anouk.

  “I didn’t save Idris Young.” I downplayed the situation. “It was self-defense.”

  “Self-defense?” Rens Volkerink chewed on the word. Judging by the wrinkles in his face, he didn’t like the taste of it. “But Maxwell Raby would n
ever lay a hand on his brethren. He was as loyal as they come.”

  “Half of his victims were blackhands.” I reminded him.

  Rens Volkerink’s brow lifted, but before he had a chance to reply. Aunt Margot’s voice cut through the crowd with my name atop its back.

  “If you will excuse me, please,” I said to the Volkerink pair as I turned on my heel, eager to get away. They both bowed their heads in a polite farewell.

  But out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Idris across the courtyard. He was speaking to a group of whitehands. A woman leaned into him and linked her arm around his, but I couldn’t see who it was. Several attendees blocked her slender frame.

  I took a few steps, heading in the direction my aunt’s voice had emerged with my eyes glued to them. Finally, a clearing allowed me a glimpse of the woman who was snuggling up to him in public. I recognized her face at once, and my world shattered.

  It was Mercedes Montcroix.

  I swallowed the lump down in my throat. Pain rampaged through me. My heart pumped so hard and fast in my chest, it burned. I was crumbling in public over a man I had rejected.

  As his laughter rolled to a close and Mercedes gleamed a smile at him, Idris noticed me watching him. He did a double-take. Our eyes met. I struggled to push down the sea of emotions, not wanting him to see the dark green waves of jealousy that rolled within me.

  Mercedes followed his look. Her head craned in my direction, and she glared at me just as Aunt Margot bellowed out my name once more. I whipped my eyes straight ahead and marched onward with my chin lifted. I refused to let her see how defeated I felt inside.

  When my aunt emerged from the crowd, she stood with Uncle Hank, Chancellor Day, and Pwofese Middlemiss. I groaned to myself. It was one thing after another today, but I put on a brave face and joined the small group. I knew Uncle Hank would have my back when the snuffed accusations began to fly.

  “Why have you been avoiding, Pwofese Middlemiss?” Aunt Margot asked as soon as I joined them. Her hands rounded on her large hips, flaring out the top of her rusty rose-colored dress.

  It was a wrecking ball of a question. My tongue buckled under its weight. “Well… uhm… I haven’t,” I mumbled.

  “That’s not what Pwofese Middlemiss just told us.” Aunt Margot cast me a severe glance.

  “I didn’t go to you right away after the incident, Chancellor Day, because nobody was hurt. Plus, I wanted to give Zuri the opportunity to tell you herself,” Pwofese Middlemiss explained. The tiny tassels attached to her bright yellow hair scarf dangled as she spoke, whipping around in tune to her frustration. “But I feel holding this secret any longer may become detrimental in the long run.”

  Chancellor Day glanced between the two of us, and her back straightened. “What secret?”

  “Yes,” Uncle Hank huffed. “What secret?” He crossed his large arms across his thick chest. His bubble ponytail trailed over his shoulder.

  I shrugged my shoulders, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what she wants me to tell you.”

  Pwofese Middlemiss’s nostrils flared with fire. “I’m going to give you one more chance, Zuri. You tell, or I do.”

  I shook my head. “I still don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “Fine.” Her hands balled into fists at her side. “Towards the end of the fall semester, Zuri volunteered to serve as my source, so I could demonstrate a pull for the class.”

  Uncle Hank’s eyes widened, and the color drained from his face. His hand reached for Aunt Margot’s, clutching it tightly. He knew what was coming.

  Pwofese Middlemiss continued, “As I attempted to absorb from her, I couldn’t. I was stopped. Not only did it feels as though I had hit a brick wall, but some force retaliated.”

  “She pushed against you?” Aunt Margot gasped. “Zuri, you attacked a teacher?”

  “No, not like that.” Pwofese Middlemiss clarified. “I believe it was passive on Zuri’s part, a reaction within her that she had no control over. It reached inside of me, using my own powers as the connection, and… attacked. If I wouldn’t have been able to break the connection…” She shook her head.

  Chancellor Day stared at me, blinking. I could almost see a hint of disbelief play in her dark eyes.

  “It can’t—you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?” Uncle Hank asked.

  “What? What is she saying?” Aunt Margot yanked on his arm. “I don’t understand.”

  “The ability.” Uncle Hank breathed, his shoulders falling. “it’s a power siphoning block with a counterstrike. It’s a highborn familial ability.”

  Aunt Margot’s hand clasped her mouth as the four of them stared at me.

  They were talking about my father. Apparently, he was a highborn after all, and it was his ability that had passed onto me instead of my mother’s. “Then, whose is it? Who is my father?”

  Pwofese Middlemiss shook her head, and her eyes squinted. “But I thought you knew. You don’t know?”

  “No,” I whispered, awaiting the tidal wave that was about to crash down upon me. After spending a year searching and hunting for a name or even a clue as to his identity, I was about to be handed a name. And as a bittersweet cherry on top, Pwofese Middlemiss had known for nearly six months. I feared any wasted time, having already spent eighteen years knowing nothing.

  Middlemiss turned to Chancellor Day, who gave her a nod of approval. “You were the one who discovered it, you should be the one to tell her.”

  Pwofese Middlemiss’s lips drew into a thin line. It was obvious the words she was about to say were heavy upon her tongue. “Zuri,” she began, “I can’t tell you exactly who your father is, but I know the surname.”

  “Wait,” Aunt Margot interjected. “Before we go any further, I have something to say.” She took my hands in hers. The back of her hands looked like a jewelry box filled with cut gems and precious metals. “No matter what, your uncle and I will always be here for you. Whatever name revealed, no matter how… dark. We will always stand with you. We love you.”

  “I love you, too.” No matter what name came out of Middlemiss’s mouth, it could never replace the love and admiration I held for my mom, Uncle Hank, and Aunt Margot. This was my family. These were the people that had raised me. They would forever be special to me.

  Middlemiss cleared her throat. “Zuri, I’m fairly confident that your paternal line comes from the Adder family. You have their familial ability, not the Ebenmore’s. And while you will always be Zuri Ebenmore to us, your name should be Zuri Adder.”

  Thank You for Reading!

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  Also by Marian Gray

  The Varundian Series

  The Traitor

  The Two Kings

  The Sea Serpent

  The Other Spade

  The Silver Ring

  The Forsaken Return

  The Storm’s End

  About the Author

  Professional cat herder by day, mystical archivist by night, Marian Gray can often be found existing in multiple dimensions. Her days consist of 26 hours, two of which always seem to get misplaced, and she prefers tea over coffee for a daily leaf reading.

  When she's not frightening the neighbors or placing herself on FBI watchlists due to her google searches, she spends her time deep in a book with a toddler gnawing on her ankle or battling the Dark Lord.

  Want to know more?

  mariangray.com

  author@mariangray.com

 

 

 
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