Lifting my fingers from his, I clasped my hands together, hoping that he hadn’t realized that I’d done something. He stood there, though, as if he’d been struck immobile. I lifted my brows. “Are you okay?”
He blinked again. This time, he laughed softly. “Yes. It’s…I just had the strangest feeling.”
“Is that so?” I watched him closely.
Hawke nodded as he rubbed the palm of his hand over his chest. “I don’t even know how to explain it.”
Now I was starting to worry that I’d somehow done something other than relieve his pain. What, I wasn’t sure, but if my gifts were evolving, anything was possible. I reached out with my senses once more, and all I felt in return was warmth. “Is it a bad feeling? Should we find a Healer?”
“No. Not at all.” Hawke’s laugh was stronger then, less uncertain. His eyes, now a warm honey, met mine. “My brother is not dead, by the way. So, no need for sympathy.”
Now it was my turn to blink repeatedly. “Oh? I just thought…” I trailed off.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to visit the garden?”
Thinking it was far past time for me to lock myself away before I did yet another reckless thing, I shook my head. “I think I would like to go back to my room now.”
He hesitated for a moment but then nodded. Neither of us spoke as we made our way. Apparently, Hawke was trying to figure out why he felt…happier, lighter. And I was left wondering what exactly had happened to his brother to cause that kind of reaction, especially if his brother was still alive.
CHAPTER 21
It took less than twenty-four hours for me to, yet again, do something utterly reckless. This time, however, I may end up regretting it. Of all the ways I’d thought I might die, it had never occurred to me that it could happen while borrowing a book from the Atheneum.
There were far more dangerous things I’d done in my eighteen years of life, times where I would’ve been more likely to die in the process. Utter heaps of examples where even I had been a bit surprised that I’d walked away with my limbs and life intact. But here I was, one wrong step away from plummeting to my death, clutching the supposed diary of one Miss Willa Colyns, the book that Loren and Dafina had been talking about. Obviously, the book would most definitely be the type of reading material Priestess Analia would expressly forbid. And if I were caught with it in my possession, it would be yet another reason for her to believe that I wasn’t respectful of my duty as the Maiden.
So, of course, I had to read it. I’d been so very bored all day.
I’d already read every book Tawny had snuck me at least three times, and I couldn’t bring myself to read another too-familiar page even one more time. She had yet again been commandeered by the Duchess and the Mistresses, and I knew I might not even see her the following morning. So, I had another day of staring—uninterrupted except for my training with Vikter—at four stone walls. And the longer I stayed in my room with nothing to occupy my mind, the more I thought about what Hawke had said about all the rights that had been stripped away from me.
It wasn’t like I didn’t already know that, but it wasn’t something that others appeared to even acknowledge. Maybe it was because they were with me constantly, so everything had become the norm. But to Hawke, who was new, none of this was normal.
And that was what led me to travel unaccompanied through Wisher’s Grove to the Atheneum while Hawke stood outside my chamber door, thinking I was inside. Vikter was…well, I had no idea where he was. I had a feeling based on how tired and sad his eyes had looked this morning, that he’d been called upon the night before to take care of one of the cursed and hadn’t invited me.
I also had a feeling that he wasn’t going to involve me going forward, which irritated me. Of course, I planned to discuss that with him the first chance I got. I wouldn’t be cut out when I could help people. And he would just have to deal with it.
But right now, I needed to focus on not dying, or worse yet, getting caught.
Cold night air whipped around me as I stood plastered against the stone wall, praying to any god that the foot-wide ledge I stood on wouldn’t cave under my weight. I doubted when it was built that they had taken into consideration that, at some point, an entirely stupid Maiden would find herself standing on it.
How had this gone so terribly wrong?
Sneaking into the Atheneum hadn’t been hard. With my shapeless black cloak, my trusty mask in place, and my face hidden under the hood, I doubted anyone on the streets of Masadonia had been able to tell if I was male or female, let alone the Maiden as I hurried down the alley toward the back entrance of the library. Moving along the grid of narrow halls and staircases without being seen was easy, too.
I knew how to be like a ghost when needed, quiet and still.
The problem started when I found the leather-bound journal of Miss Colyns. Instead of leaving and going back to the castle like I knew I should, I’d ducked inside an empty room.
I just…I had been going stir-crazy in that room and had dreaded going back. And the thickly cushioned settees called to me. The stocked liquor cabinet, something I found odd to discover in a library, confused me, however. But I’d sat by the large windows overlooking the city below and cracked open the worn book. My cheeks had been scalded by the end of the first page, having discovered what occurs when someone kisses one not on the mouth or on the breast like…like Hawke had done before he knew who I was, but some place far more intimate.
I couldn’t stop reading, practically devouring the cream-hued pages.
Miss Willa Colyns lived a very…interesting life with many, many other…fascinating people. I had gotten to the part where she spoke of her brief fling with the King, which I could not even begin to picture, nor did I want to, when I heard voices outside the room—one in particular I’d never thought to hear in the Atheneum.
The Duke’s.
Hearing his voice meant that I’d been so caught up in the diary, I hadn’t even realized the sun had set.
I hadn’t been summoned to meet with him the night before or today. With the preparations for the Rite, I’d been given a temporary reprieve, and I assumed Hawke had as well since he was still my guard. But that reprieve would come to a swift end if the Duke discovered me.
Which was why I was now perched on a ledge outside what turned out to be the Duke’s personal room in the Atheneum. The only grace I’d been given was that the window I’d climbed out of wasn’t the one facing the street but rather the one blocked by Wisher’s Grove.
Only the hawks could see me…or witness my fall.
The sound of ice clinking against glass caused me to swallow a groan. He’d already been in the room for at least thirty minutes, and I was betting that he was on his second glass of whiskey. I had no idea what he was doing. With the Rite kicking off in just hours, I imagined he was busy meeting with the new Ladies and Lords in Wait, and the parents who would be giving their third sons and daughters to the Temples. But no, he was here, drinking whiskey by himse—
A knock on the door sounded. I closed my eyes, lightly banging the back of my head against the wall. Company? He was going to have visitors?
Maybe the gods had been watching me this whole time, and this was yet another punishment.
“Come in,” he called out, and I heard the door clicking shut a few moments later. “You’re late.”
Oh, dear. I recognized that cold, flat tone. The Duke was not pleased.
“My apologies, Your Grace. I came as soon as I could,” came the response. It was a male voice, one I didn’t immediately recognize, which meant it could be any number of people. Ascended Lords. Stewards. Merchants. Guards.
“Not soon enough,” the Duke replied, and I cringed for whoever was surely on the receiving end of a very disapproving stare. “I hope you have something for me. If so, that would go a long way to restoring my faith in you.”
“I do, Your Grace. It took a while, as you know the man was not talkative.”
“No, they never are once you get them out of the public eye where they can’t cause a spectacle with their words,” the Duke commented. “I’m guessing you had to be extremely convincing to get him to talk.”
“Yes.” There was a rough laugh and then, “He’s not an Atlantian. That has been confirmed.”
“Shame,” the Duke said, and I frowned. Why would that be bad news?
“I’ve learned his name. Lev Barron, the first son of Alexander and Maggie Barron. He had two brothers, the second died of an…illness before his Rite, and the third was given to the Temples three years ago. He was not a known person of interest, and his behavior at the assembly wasn’t expected.”
They were talking about the Descenter—the one who’d thrown the Craven hand while the Duke and Duchess had spoken to the people after the attack.
“You’ve investigated his family?” the Duke asked.
“Yes. The father is deceased. The mother lives alone in the Lower Ward. She was useful in getting him to talk.”
The Duke chuckled, and the sound turned my stomach. “What else have you learned?”
“I don’t believe he was very connected within the community of Descenters. He claims that he has never met the Dark One nor believes him to be within the city.”
A wealth of relief rose and spread through me even as the wind lifted the edges of my cloak.
“And you believed him?” the Duke asked.
“I gave him good reason not to lie,” the man, who I assumed was one of the guards, answered. I thought about the man’s mother. Had she been one of the reasons for him opening up?
If so, the knowledge sat heavy in the pit of my stomach. Descenters needed to be dealt with harshly, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about family members being used to coerce information.
“And did he tell you anything about the claim he made? About the third sons and daughters?”
“All he would say was that he knew the truth—that they weren’t servicing the gods, and that everyone would soon learn that.”
“He didn’t say what he believed to be the truth?”
I turned my head toward the window, all but holding my breath. I would love to know what he thought was happening.
“No, Your Grace. The only additional information I could glean from him was how he came to be in possession of a Craven’s hand,” he said, and that was, well…a good thing to know. “Apparently, he took it off the body of one of the guards who had become infected and returned to the city. He helped the family put the guard down after he’d changed.”
“Death with dignity.” The Duke scoffed, and my eyes widened. He…he knew about that? About us? “These bleeding hearts will be the death of the entire city one of these days.”
That statement was a wee bit excessive, but I hadn’t considered that there may be Descenters in the network.
“Did he happen to tell you who was involved with putting down the newly turned Craven?” he asked.
“No. He would not.”
“That is also a shame. I would love to know who didn’t contact us and why.” The Duke sighed as if that were the worst possible thing to remain unanswered. “Do you have anything else to report?”
“No, Your Grace.”
There wasn’t an immediate response, but then the Duke asked, “Does the Descenter still breathe?”
“For now.”