An anguished cry came from Tally's throat, while Halfdan slumped against Zayn with the realization of his final punishment. Her eyes pleaded with him.
Tamako, the smoky-eyed maetrie, collected Halfdan from Zayn. The Black Council led their prisoners out of the lodge, letting Priyanka and Zayn stay behind. He watched Tally the whole way.
Once they were out of sight, Zayn slumped onto a couch. Priyanka put her hand on his shoulder.
"I'd hoped she'd gotten away."
"I did as well," said Priyanka. "We'll head back when you're ready."
Zayn nodded and moved to the ledge outside the lodge, despite his protective enchantments having mostly worn off. He jammed his hands in his pockets, shivering against the painful cold. His eyes watered from the icy winds swirling into the grotto, but the view was transcendent. Distant mountains formed a ring around the cloud-filled valley, which seethed and swayed like an ocean of mist. He stayed outside until his chest no longer threatened to squeeze the breath from his lungs and he no longer felt like his heart was turning to stone. Finally, when his lips were blue and ice had formed in his tight black Afro, Zayn stumbled back inside.
"Let's go home."
Chapter Thirty-Two
Honeycomb, May 2015
Authors with benefits
In the weeks after the Bastille heist—or the "greatest day of my life" as Vin liked to call it—the intensity of Academy schooling provided a balm to Zayn's mood. The instructors, back into their roles as teachers rather than squad mates, offered no quarter during classes, which Zayn appreciated. He suspected they knew what he was feeling, the letdown after the mission, and kept him and his fellow second years busy. Of course, it might also have been that the end of the year was approaching, and this was the normal grind, but Zayn liked to think of it as the first way.
Strangely, the other second years knew what had happened even though no one was supposed to talk about it. When he was hanging out in the common area, other students would clump together, whispering sub vocally, sending furtive glances towards him. It made keeping to himself more difficult than normal.
On a Thursday afternoon, Sofia sidled up to him while he was sitting on the long couch in the library. He would have preferred a single chair, as that kept his fellow classmates at bay, but they'd all been taken.
"Oh, Zayn," she said, practically sitting on top of him, putting her hand on his leg. "You really need to hang out with the rest of the class more. The year is practically extinct. There's a bunch of us going out tonight, there's a bar called the Smoke & Amber that's supposed to be divine."
She said the last word in two parts, "De" and "Vine." He took a deep breath, regretfully enjoying the sweet jasmine perfume she wore.
"I'm really sorry, Sofia, I'm behind on my reading," he said, pulling the tome against his chest like a shield in case she tried to slip into his lap.
She ran her painted fingernail down the spine of the book. "Volume ten of The Illustrious Arts of Deception? But we're only supposed to read through five this year," she said.
He was about to explain how interesting the reading was. He was currently in the middle of a chapter about the practice of how using social proofs in conjunction with targeted spell flashes could remotely program people. One of the case studies involved how they convinced a corrupt business mogul to turn himself in to the police with spell-aided videos he was receiving on his internet feeds. But then he realized she didn't have studying in mind.
He was saved from answering when he saw Keelan standing across the room, waving at him.
Zayn closed the book, a motion which got Sofia's excitement, since she clearly assumed he was going to pay attention to her. Then he pushed the heavy tome into her lap.
"You should read it. I have to go do a thing. Sorry."
He was away from her before she could protest. Zayn sensed an epic pouty face from behind him based on his cousin's stifled expression.
Zayn embraced Keelan. "Love you, cuz. What's up?"
Keelan handed him a flier from the bookstore Left Tower Books. He took a quick glance.
"So there's a big book signing tonight with a bunch of local authors—someone you want to see going?" asked Zayn.
His cousin gave him a big grin and jammed his finger into the crisp paper, right in the middle of the list of authors.
"Alex Malice," said Zayn. "Good idea, but won't he know we're coming like he did last time? I don't know how he knew we were following, but he knew."
Keelan pulled out his phone and showed him a picture of a tiny furry gray mammal with big eyes. It almost looked like a lemur.
"He has a pet alamus psinocturn," said Keelan. "It's a psychic mammal that bonds with other creatures, providing them protection and warning of danger in exchange for safety and food. They're little bigger than a mouse. They're only found in the Portuguese hills, and most researchers thought they were extinct, but Alex has one. I found out through talking to some of his classmates. They're insanely jealous of him for owning one. It's how he knew we were following, and why the Goblin Market turned into a maze for us. They can influence people around them."
"Then how do we get to the signing event without alerting him?" asked Zayn.
Keelan handed him a chunky iron bracelet. He had a matching one of his own. "I borrowed these from Instructor O'Keefe. They're Blankers. Assuming we don't make any dangerous moves, they'll keep the alamus from noticing us. I got us a couple of copies of his latest book so we don't look out of place."
Zayn examined the glossy hardback.
"The World's Most Dangerous Zoo: A Retrospective by Alexander Malice. The Portland Magical Zoo, I guess I've heard of it, but didn't know what it was. Let's go find out what he knows about your dad."
"If he knows anything," said Keelan with a heaviness to his gaze.
Left Tower Books was in the third ward. The line to get into the bookstore was already out the door by the time they arrived. They couldn't use magic to get ahead in the line, or risk spooking Alex. Besides, they wanted to talk to him, and going later gave them a better shot.
Three hours later when they finally reached the front of the line, Alex Malice was seated at the table in a safari shirt, a representative from the bookstore behind him. He was much younger than Zayn had thought from his author photo, but that made sense given that he'd graduated the same year that Uncle Jesse died. The gray streaks in his black hair made him appear much older.
Alex didn't even look up as they handed over the books.
"Thank you for purchasing my books. Who can I fill these out to?" asked Alex in a droll tone.
"To Jesse Walker," said Keelan.
Alex mechanically opened the front cover, and his pen was poised over the paper when he paused, his ponytail shifting as he tilted his head.
As soon as he looked up, he exploded from the table. "It's you!"
Both Zayn and his cousin held their hands out.
"Wait, please," said Keelan. "We just want to talk."
The bookstore attendant's eyes were wide. "Alex, is everything okay?"
He looked ready to run, but hadn't moved yet.
"We're just here to ask you a few questions about my dad," said Keelan.
Alex's hand went to his shirt pocket, which shifted with a slight bulge. His forehead knotted with concern.
Zayn held out his arm. "Don't worry. He didn't fail you. We came prepared."
"But the..." said Alex, making a motion with his eyes towards the sky.
"The Stingtails? Let's call it fair trade for your apartment," said Zayn. "Like my cousin said, we just want to talk to you about Jesse."
Alex paused, looking like he was still deciding between bolting and staying. Then he looked at the line still behind them.
"Can you wait until after I'm done? I don't like to disappoint my fans," he said.
"Sure, we'll wait at the cafe across the street," said Keelan.
They collected their books and moved across the street, ordering a couple of coffees
while they waited. Zayn was a little surprised when Alex showed up an hour later. He'd half expected him to leave the city.
He sat across from them with his hands placed before him as if he were afraid of making a sudden move.
"I'm really sorry about trashing your apartment," said Zayn. "We were there for The Ecological Webs of Arachnids. We didn't know the book was trapped."
Alex glanced at the door before relaxing his shoulders. "And I apologize for the Stingtails. They're nasty business if you're not ready for them. Clearly I underestimated you both, but you know we could have avoided this if you'd contacted me directly."
"Again, my fault," said Zayn. "I couldn't wait for answers when we found out you hadn't been home in a while. I thought we'd take a peek in, grab the book, and leave without causing any issues."
"You knew my father," said Keelan, cutting in before Alex could answer. "Jesse Walker."
Alex hesitated as if he wasn't sure about acknowledging it, but then he nodded slowly. He looked around the cafe.
"We enchanted the table," said Keelan. "No one's going to overhear us."
"I assume you're both from Varna," said Alex, keeping his body very still.
"Yes."
"Then you understand my caution when it comes to what you're asking about. I'm also curious as to why you would both join the Academy considering what your father was researching."
"He's my uncle and Keelan's father," said Zayn, "but I get your point. Let's say we have our reasons."
"And what if those reasons are to curry favor with your town's patron by exposing that I helped your father," said Alex.
"Why the hell would we do that?" asked Keelan, barely controlling the volume of his voice.
"I..."
Alex paused with his mouth open, glancing between them.
"What do you think happened to him?" asked Alex.
"He was killed," said Keelan. "And they took my mother's arm as punishment, even though she didn't do a damn thing."
Alex looked away, blinked a few times. "Knew my father, I should have caught it the first time." He looked back. "May I ask what happened to him? And my condolences, of course."
"That's the thing," said Zayn. "We don't know. He disappeared seven years ago. We think that the Lady had him killed, but we never saw his body."
"The casket was empty," said Keelan, holding back his emotions.
"Are you sure he's dead?" asked Alex.
Zayn's heart leapt in his chest. "What? Why would you say that?"
Keelan squeezed his fist around his coffee mug, snapping off the handle.
"If no one saw the body," said Alex, eyeing them carefully, "then how do you know? Sorry. That's a terrible thing to suggest, but I'm a scientist. I don't like to believe something unless I can verify it."
Zayn put a hand on his cousin's arm. "Why don't you start from the beginning. Tell us how he contacted you, what he asked about."
After taking a sip of his water, Alex said, "He contacted me during my final year in the Halls. He was looking for information about purpura domina aranea, and had been asking around. While I'm not an expert on spiders, I'd never heard of that particular species, and that intrigued me enough to contact him back.
"I was, of course, warned away from this line of research by a few professors, though they wouldn't say why. This only made me more determined to help Jesse, if only for the self-knowledge.
"But as I tried to learn about the spiders, I found myself continuously stymied by holes in the information. It felt like someone had removed every mention of them from society."
Zayn cleared his throat. "We noticed that too."
"Doubling down on my research, I delved into less traveled pathways of knowledge," said Alex with a coy smile. "In this, I learned far more than I wanted to about Varna. I'm sorry, the whole situation sounds positively devastating."
"We're well aware," replied Zayn.
"Anyway, eventually I came across the book, which naturally was trapped in a way that would kill most researchers, but I was able to extract the information without opening it." When Zayn raised an eyebrow, Alex added, "I had it scanned in an MRI. Sometimes technology works better than magic. I passed that information along to your father, who was quite excited about the material. He seemed to think it was a way out of his situation."
"In what way?" asked Keelan.
"I don't know," said Alex, making a shrugging gesture with his hands. "My only impression, given what I know about Varna, was that he felt he'd found a weapon."
Zayn's face went numb at mention of a weapon against the Lady.
Alex's eyes went wide as he stared across the table. "I take it that a weapon is important."
"Are you sure?" asked Zayn.
"No, of course I'm not sure. This was seven years ago, and many things have happened since. But that was my first impression of the memory, and my gut feelings are often right."
"But you read the book. Did you see a weapon in there?" asked Zayn.
"Sorry, no. I couldn't understand his excitement." Alex glanced at his wrist, even though he wasn't wearing a watch, and stood up from the table. "I hate to do this, but I have to go. I'm leaving early in the morning for another signing in Pittsburg."
They gave him their thanks and farewells. After he was gone, Keelan turned to Zayn.
"I don't remember reading about a weapon, and I have that book practically memorized by now," said Keelan.
"Same here. But maybe if we read it again, we'll see something." Zayn put his hand on his cousin's shoulder. "One step at a time. We'll figure it out eventually."
"Or die trying," said Keelan.
"Let's try to skip that part."
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Honeycomb, May 2015
The stinger of a bee
The final weeks of school ticked down without incident. It seemed anticlimactic compared to what had happened in the preceding months.
On the day after final exams, and before Zayn and his cousin took the train back to Varna, he received a message from Priyanka to meet at Empire Ink. It was written in a scrawling script on a silvery ball, one of the items they'd used at the Bastille.
"What's that?" asked Skylar as she was packing her third trunk of clothing.
Zayn, who'd been sitting on the couch when the fifth year came in to deliver the ball, said, "A message from Priyanka."
"That looks like one of those things I used to dispel illusions in the Bastille," she said, which brought back the memory of what it had revealed. Skylar wrinkled her nose in disgust.
His cousin, who was climbing down from his room, jumped the last ten feet, landing as silent as a panther. "What's with the writing on it?"
"A message from Priyanka. I have to meet her at Empire Ink," he said.
"Strange," said Keelan. "Want me to come?"
Zayn looked at his cousin, who looked completely at home in the team apartment, unlike he had at the beginning of the year. He didn't want to disturb that feeling.
"Nah, you finish packing. I'll take the portal. I'm sure whatever it is, it won't be long," said Zayn.
They appeared skeptical about the benign nature of the message, but let him go just the same.
He made it to Empire Ink fifteen minutes later, after a round of precautionary enchantments. The patron wasn't above surprising them with challenges to test their reflexes and problem-solving skills.
The tattoo shop was closed, and no one was working the store, but the front room lights were on. The horizon painted pinks and oranges against the sky, and the Spire blazed as a tower of light.
"It's a beautiful city as long as you don't look too close."
The voice came from a chair on the left side of the room behind a privacy curtain. It wasn't Priyanka, but it was familiar. Zayn stepped to the center, keeping his imbuement at the ready should he need to flee.
The midnight-skinned Antheka, the new head of the Black Council, lounged in a leather tattoo station, one leg crossed over the other. She
wore tight jeans, a brilliant yellow V-neck, and open-toed white shoes. The fluorescent lights made her skin glossy.
"Thank you for coming," said Antheka as she climbed to her feet. "I'm sorry for the deception, but I wanted to speak to you."
Zayn took a step back, which brought a smile to her lips. "Don't worry, Pri knows I'm here. She suggested this location might put you at ease. That is her handwriting on the ball, not that I couldn't have reproduced it."
Not allowing himself to relax a hair, Zayn said, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
The corner of her lips curled slightly. "I wanted to thank you."
"Thank me?"
"Yes," said Antheka. "For stopping Halfdan from destroying the sphere. Without you, Deathbird would be in ruins."
"No offense, but I wasn't saving you, I was saving the Hundred Halls," he said.
"It's amazing what one can do when properly motivated," said Antheka, moving closer to him. She had a languid gait, as if her spine were made of reeds rather than bone. When she reached him, she placed her finger under his chin, and he flinched from the shock of their skin connecting. "I thought stealing the Word was possible, but I didn't expect one of Priyanka's students to do it."
"It was a team effort," said Zayn, then he caught the implication of what she'd said. "Wait. Did you put Halfdan up to this so you could depose Eleanor and take her place?"
Antheka placed her hand on her chest in outrage. "You wound me after I give you such a compliment. The politics of Deathbird are virile, but not suicidal. I had nothing to do with Halfdan's foolish idea, but I won't claim to have not profited from it."
Whether or not she was lying, he couldn't tell, but either way, she was in charge of a dangerous place.
"Not to be rude, but why did you ask me here?" asked Zayn.
"Zayn, dear," she said, as if he were her grandson, "I brought you here to give you a gift."
"A gift?"
"You are familiar with the word, right? Pri does teach these things," she said, chiding him with a grin lurking on her lips.
"Familiar, yes. Confused, definitely."
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