For them. From the peerage warring over lands to the daily dangers of work, most of Cynlira had never known peace.
“If she goes ahead with the sacrifice, she’ll be breaking my contract with you,” I said. “How does she feel about killing her only surviving child?”
“Far less conflicted about it than you’re imagining.” He glanced up at me, gray eyes pale against the dark shadows beneath his eyes, and settled his glasses on his face. “How did your father die?”
“Mining accident.” His hands had been ripped off, and the mine hadn’t kept a noblewrought healer on-site like they were supposed to. “Let’s get this done. I need a sacrifice.”
The Heir laughed softly. He held out his arm to me and rolled back his sleeve until the tendons of his forearm were tense beneath my fingers. I tapped the nook of his elbow, holding his arm until a vein rolled beneath my fingers, and pricked it with the long needle he offered up to me. He didn’t even wince.
Take his blood, not enough to kill him, I prayed to my vilewright, and pain as sacrifice, and destroy this part of the door.
If I knew something, my wrights knew it. They were like some distant part of me I could only access when I paid the price. I had never put boundaries on my wrights—I rarely used them in a way that could get someone killed—but if this was part of the Door, it was Vile. There was no telling how much blood was necessary to destroy it.
The blood dripping from the Heir’s arm vanished in a stuttering motion as if some small tongue lapped it from his skin. Black smoke drifted from the bowl, and the scent of charred hair burned in my nose. The Heir and I leaned over the bowl.
Three little granules crumbled and drifted away in the smoke. The Heir made a small noise in the back of his throat. My vilewright trilled.
It wasn’t a sound exactly but a feeling that rang in my head, like those whistles only dogs could hear. I knew the sound was happening even though I couldn’t quite hear it.
“Wait,” I said. “It’s not right.”
Three other grains twisted, the red rippling and something writhing beneath their surface, and each buckled about their middle. The grains split, and the three new ones wobbled atop the pile in the bowl.
The Heir hummed. “Only three. Curious.”
“Baiting me won’t work.” I ground my teeth together and took a breath. It did work, but I was too tired to rise to it tonight. “Same thing happened to you?”
“Every time,” he said. “The Door is not a door, but it looks like one. This is the dirt that surrounds it. It is not dirt. The area around the Door is part of the Door as well, but we’re not certain where that boundary ends. Carlow and I believe it’s expanding.”
“Who disagrees with you?” I asked.
“My mother.” He swallowed. “The growth, when compared to the almost exponential increase in sacrifices necessary, is negligible.”
“If we knew the mechanism it uses to replicate, we might be able to destroy that and then destroy the Door,” I said. “Tried it?”
“Of course,” said the Heir. “We even attempted to re-create it to gain some insight.”
“You can’t create, so who attempted it?”
“I am well aware of my ability to only ever destroy,” he said, words clipped and teeth bared. They weren’t as sharp as the rumors said. “Carlow. She was dead for a month after.”
My day had been filled with Carlow moving—tapping her fingers against her desk, throwing her notes at Creek’s head, and tugging at her tangled hair as she read—and then the sudden unsettling stillness of death at my hands.
“My mother discovered what we had done and alerted the court and council. We were forbidden from attempting it again. The court of peers and common council are often at odds, but they concur on this: we can do nothing with the Door that might open or destroy it.” He chuckled, and my noblewright shuddered. “Keep the dirt. Do nothing that could harm you, but see what you can make of it.”
I nodded. “So this is what my work will be—dirt.”
“Dirt,” he said and rose from my chair. He stopped in the doorway. “I have heard that Willoughby Chase will arrive tomorrow to begin mounting his defense and begin his house arrest. You are welcome to visit him. You will be followed. Feel free to inform him that we will be watching him as well. Do not think you can escape my guards or our contract.”
“I would never,” I said. “Are you going to tell me why I should make sure whoever knocks at my door is who I think they are?”
He shook his head. “No. You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”
So he wanted to watch me figure it out. What a peer he was, playing with me.
I slid the lock into place. His footsteps faded down the hall, and I crawled into bed. The door rattled once. I didn’t answer.
“Smart girl,” I thought I heard, but by the time I opened the door, I was alone.
Nine
I left the royal grounds at dawn. The guards were already up and about, winding through the gardens and buildings. From the doorway of a building I hadn’t been to, Hana Worth watched me leave with her bandaged arms crossed over her chest as she scratched at old scabs. A hand gloved in healer’s green tugged her back into the room.
It was so utterly normal, too normal for a place like this, to see the Heir’s guard blushing and vanishing into the healer’s room, as if this place were as much a part of the real world as Felhollow.
I flipped up the collar of Julian’s coat, half hiding my face. Noshwright, in the Wheels-Carry-Us-to-Riches district where the newly rich rubbed elbows with the hoping-to-be-rich, was a sprawling inn that I had never entered. Will Chase owned quarters on one of the upper floors, and he always stayed there when in Mori. The Wheels was the fanciest of the merchant districts, full of people from all walks of life hoping they looked powerful enough to get what they wanted. None glanced at me twice.
Unassuming. Uninteresting. Unseen.
As a child, I would never have been able to walk the Wheels without getting accosted. There were too many city guards, their eyes sliding over everyone and people moving around them like they were scenery. One hustled a few Wallowers down an alley and to somewhere they wouldn’t ruin the view of the rich merchants in from out of town or get in the way of any peers running about. No one paid the actions any mind.
City guards were soldiers from the army of the house running the city. In Mori, it was black-coated Wyrslaine soldiers with red stitching. Felhollow had been too small and unimportant to warrant any actual guards, even with all the recent bandit raids. It was impossible to see the dangers of politics while every law and rule, written and unwritten, benefited you. Unless the guards started rounding up councilors and peers, their rough handling of people didn’t matter. But their shiny new rifles made my skin crawl. Nearly every soldier carried one.
It took me two hours to reach Noshwright, but I lingered in the street. Before the large front doors, a carriage came to a stop, and a man stepped out. He paused on the carriage steps, helping two toddlers down, and the family moved unhesitatingly to the doors of Noshwright. Two servants swept open the doors from the inside.
You could take the measure of a person by their shoes in Mori, and even the kids wore shoes worth more than my mother had made in her entire life. It was unfair of me to feel angry at this family, who looked perfectly nice. It was unfair how money opened doors most of Cynlira couldn’t even approach.
Will was as rich as this man, maybe richer, and still wore his old boots. He’d not scoffed at Julian’s relationship with me. He spent more money on Felhollow than the peer who ran the holding had in decades.
I couldn’t let fate rip away the family I’d spent so long finding.
I shook my head, took a breath, and moved toward Noshwright. The doors didn’t open for me, and I pulled one open a crack, slipping inside. A hand grabbed my wrist.
“Lore?” a familiar voice whispered.
I spun around. Julian stood at the edge of the street, staring into the alley I’d taken refuge in, and prodded my shoulder. I smiled.
“You’re all right,” he said and wrapped his arms around me. My nose squashed against his cheek, and he tucked his face into my neck. “I am so angry at you.”
“What?” I asked and tried to pull away, but he tightened his arms and dragged me to a lift guarded by two Wyrslaine guards.
“I understand why you didn’t say anything and all,” he muttered into my scalp, “but you making that deal and taking off. That wasn’t what I meant when I asked you to help, and you know it.”
“I didn’t have much time to think it over!” I swallowed my uncertainty and pushed his hair back from his face. Anger I could work with. “Are folks upset?”
“A few, and most of us told them they were welcome to find a new town.” Julian wouldn’t let me go, and we stumbled into the Chase quarters. “Mack, she found us!”
Mack Sarclaw skidded into the entryway. Stout and steady, as serious as Julian was confident, he took one look at me and smiled so widely I nearly cried. He gathered me up from Julian’s arms and kissed my cheeks. We collapsed onto an upholstered bench, untangling ourselves enough to sit. They settled on either side of me.
The room was small but nicer than my little room back in Felhollow.
“It’s just us. My father’s talking to some friends but will return soon. He doesn’t know how he can repay you,” said Julian. “What were you thinking?”
“The Heir was taking me no matter what.” I shrugged. “Might as well have gotten us something out of it, and if I’d tried to fight him instead, Felhollow was likely to be destroyed.”
“Certainly got an earful out of it,” muttered Mack. “Ivy threw a fit.”
I winced.
Mack squeezed my hand. “Not at you,” he said quickly. “She was furious at Will. Apparently a bunch of councilmembers have been getting investigated lately, but he was in the clear.”
I relaxed against him. “Thank you.”
“We’ve lived next to each other for nearly a decade.” Mack sighed. His locs shifted over his shoulder with the soft clink of glass beads and gold cuffs, and I smiled at the sound. He’d worn his black curls in locs for as long as I’d known him. “So you’re dualwrought?”
“It’s why I left Mori,” I said. “Lying to y’all was the bane of my existence.”
“It’s seeds already sown.” Julian turned and draped his legs across Mack and me, raising one blond brow when I huffed. “How else am I supposed to make sure you don’t run off again?”
He said it lightly, but his fingers laced through mine and held his hand against his chest.
“Anyway,” continued Julian, “Mack’s not angry at you, but I am. Dualwrought, Lore? I always knew you were keeping secrets, but dualwrought? I can’t believe you didn’t trust us.”
“Better caught keeping secrets than dead,” I muttered.
“You’re too honest to get away with pithy statements,” said Julian. He sniffed. “Maybe not, I guess.”
“Hush,” Mack said. “You were right to lie to us. Felhollow would’ve eaten you alive.”
We were the only Felfolk in our generation left. I had been nine and new, but Julian had accepted me with no questions, and Mack had been thrilled at the prospect of a new friend. He’d smiled more then and been more talkative, but time wasn’t kind. Loss was a fog that Felfolk couldn’t shake, people always dying by bandits, disease, or nature, and we’d all been to far more funerals than weddings. I was unbound and dualwrought, and maybe I could’ve saved more.
“Will it not eat me alive now?” I asked.
“We’re a bit put out you never helped more now that we know you’re dualwrought,” said Julian, “but you’re family.”
I winced. “I helped as much as I could with both wrights. I just kept it secret.”
“We know,” Mack said and shot Julian a look. “Are you safe?”
“As can be,” I said. “The Heir and I have arranged a contract, which is working, since Will’s under watch here rather than jail. Where is he? We need to know why he’s being targeted.”
“He’s meeting with some council friends about the warrant. Since it was clearly slapdash, he’s thinking they were after someone else and settled for him.” Mack tapped his fingers along Julian’s calf. “Tell her what Will told you.”
“My father got a seat on the council a few months back,” said Julian. “He was keeping the news to himself until the next session though. He and the rest of the folks on the common council think the Heir’s up to something, and apparently my father had concerns about him traveling through Felhollow and those towns. Something to do with the sacrifices and the Crown,” Julian said. “He and most of the council tried to force the Heir to show them his work, and he refused. So now a bunch of the council members are getting sent warrants for minor offenses—safety regulations in factories and towns, bribery, and other things they’ve never bothered with before.”
“Minor,” I repeated. Will wouldn’t let his business break safety rules. He knew my mother died from that.
“They’re angry he bought a munitions factory, too, and now Felhollow has guns.” Mack snorted. “The peerage is all for arms until the wrong sort start arming themselves.”
“Will and his friends are discussing what the Heir was even doing near Felhollow and why he’d chase one vilewrought,” said Julian, sitting up and taking my hands in his. “I know what I asked you to do in Felhollow and what you’ve already done. I don’t want you in danger. However, this is my father. He’s all I’ve got left.”
The truth stole my breath.
“You want me to spy on the Heir,” I said. “But you already know what I know. The rumors are true—he’s researching the Door his mother sacrifices people to. He says it’s to stop the sacrifices and lock the Door for good.”
“That seems likely,” mumbled Julian. His hands slipped from mine and curled around my wrists. “You believe him?”
I shrugged. “That’s what I’m working on with him, so if he’s got ulterior motives, I can’t see them yet.”
“I want you to help me build that new Door and save the world,” the Heir had said, but saving the world could mean anything for a boy so versed in pedantry.
“It’s less spying and more you telling us what you’re doing,” said Julian. “You really signed a contract with that vile boy?”
“He was willing to deal, and I got him to agree to keep Will here,” I said. “So long as we can prove Will is innocent, it will be fine. Don’t leave Mori. Don’t threaten the court or Heir. Let’s work on figuring out what their evidence is, if he’s done anything that warrants sacrifice, and get him safe. Once he’s proven innocent, he’s free to go and can’t be sacrificed. Even the Heir, for all his power, has to obey that contract. If his mother tries to sacrifice Will anyway, the Heir will die.”
Julian’s grip on me tightened. “So he’s safe for now.”
“If we can prove he’s innocent,” said Mack.
“Yeah,” I said, “but Will would do all that.”
Julian inhaled, nostrils flaring, and his fingers slid up my arms to my shoulders, pressing into my flesh like sigils. I dropped my forehead to his shoulder.
“Thank you,” he whispered, one hand drifting to my head and stroking my hair. “You sure you’re safe up there? You have to stay in the palace?”
“He will look into Will’s arrest and trial so long as I help him with his research,” I said. “You’ve heard the rumors; he always keeps his deals. I made it as foolproof as I could. He can’t kill us or hurt us, physically or emotionally, on purpose, and even if we die, he’s bound by the power in the contract to prevent Will’s death if he knows your father is innocent.”
Mack cleared his thro
at. “Your wright bind you to the contract or his?”
“Wrights,” Julian corrected.
Mack shot him a look, and Julian flinched.
“His, but the contract cuts both ways. If he breaks it, his vilewright will turn on him.” I inhaled the scent of the road still clinging to Julian and the woody musk of him I would be able to identify till I died. The tension eased out of me. I pulled away slightly and touched the collar of his coat I was wearing. “Do you want this back?”
“Keep it,” said Julian. “Think of me.”
“Like she’s going to forget you.” Mack squeezed my arm. “Are you free to move about? Is talking to us safe?”
“There are always going to be guards watching me, but I’m allowed to go wherever.” I leaned back, morning light washing over me from one of the windows. “I should get back though. I’m working with three noblewrought—Basil Baines, Delmond Creek, and Franziska Carlow—and I think there used to be another one. Find out exactly what Will is being charged with and why they think he’s guilty. We can work backward to prove he’s not. Once that’s done, I might be able to work out another contract with the Heir to get away from here.”
Maybe. Probably. It all depended on how desperately he wanted my help with his research.
“Well, that’s a plan,” Mack said. “Keep our dualwrought undertaker alive and save Will.”
“Don’t joke about it, please.” Julian wrapped his arms around my waist, hands slipping beneath my coat. “Do what you have to, Lore, and if anything happens, we’ll go back to Felhollow. He can’t touch you there.”
Distance would not deter a vilewright. The contract would kill me if I went back on it.
“Sure,” I lied to keep him from worrying. “Just find out more about the charges.”
He could never tell when I was lying.
Ten
The next morning, I arrived at the laboratory right after the Heir. The sun had barely crept over the mountains, red light seeping across the sky and tinting everything pale pink. His flaxen greatcoat hung on a hook near his desk, the sigil of Chaos nearly black in the dim light, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Steam rose from a cup of tea on the desk, and he gestured to the stool next to him. I perched on it, setting my bag beside me. No one else had arrived.
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