The Secrets Amongst the Cypress

by Cradit, Sarah M.

  “You have been deceiving Amelia this entire time,” Ophélie said with a slow, angry breath. “And me!”

  “No!” he replied in a rush. “I continue to be Cianán, even if his soul rests in Jacob. I am tortured with his memories, but I don’t get his future, his fate. I love Amelia, as I love you because Cianán loved you both, and I cannot simply shrug away the imprint of being him has left on my soul. I am torn between two worlds, Ophélie. One I have chosen, the other I did not but would select again in a heartbeat. Oh, if I could go back! But I cannot. And so I ask of you… I implore you… to join me. Allow me to present this same gift to you. Cerridwen will move on to Amelia, as was destined, but you do not have to die! You can become a truer version of yourself, no longer tethered to a long string of fate. As I am. Your death does not have to be the end!”

  Ophélie gripped the shelves, struggling for breath. What he had confessed was perhaps more blasphemous than his original words. Victor was suggesting she give up her claim to Cerridwen’s glorious reward in exchange for a lifetime, many lifetimes, at his side. He offered her a way to avoid her own death, but at the cost of her very reason for walking toward those gallows willingly. “Victor… I…”

  He pulled her into his arms, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. “You need not say yes now. But time is no longer on our side, mon cher.”

  “Tell me,” she managed through a hoarse voice. “If you could go back, what decision would you make?”

  Victor tensed. His breath was hot against her scalp. “I won’t deceive you. I would choose Cianán. But, Ophélie, that choice is passed. As is the one the goddess made when she decided your life was a fair price to pay for Amelia’s eventual enlightenment. So, tell me, are we not entitled to be more than pawns in a game?”

  “We are not chess pieces if we choose to play,” she answered. Her entire body was aflame with fear and uncertainty. “I see my reward in Amelia’s eyes. I feel it as I help guide her back to her Cianán. I know I will see the world through her and enjoy my promised gift one day.”

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  Ophélie scoffed. “I am not wrong. You only say this because you gave up your chance, your claim, and you have no other direction but forward.”

  “I share no doubts beyond the ones I lived with for many years before taking my immortality,” he countered. “Yes, I live with deep regret, but my decision didn’t come lightly. I toiled for many years. But you, my darling, do not have many years. Ophélie, you do not have a single year. And I am offering you an option no one else can.”

  “As is the goddess.”

  “Yes,” Victor said sadly. “I am asking you to choose between two very different worlds that do not and cannot intersect. To accept one means to give up the other.”

  Loud, raucous voices carried in from the parlor. Ophélie didn’t know what prompted the hollering, but it reminded her of why she had wandered this way to begin with.

  Tears pooled under her lids, and she willed them not to breach. “Victor,” she said gently, gifting a kiss to the side of his mouth. “I cannot. I am sorry. For all I am to face ahead, knowing the pain I will endure, I still cannot separate myself from who I am. And it breaks my heart that you have.”

  “Ophélie…”

  She broke away from his touch and rushed to the door, afraid of her own weakness in this impossible enticement.

  “I ask only one other request of you,” she called back. “Let Amelia and Jacob leave here in peace. Amelia, especially, needs an emotional distance from you, more so in light of your confession. Our aim was to bring them together, not tear them apart. The portion of you that is still Cianán must understand this.”

  Ophélie waited for confirmation, for anything. But Victor said nothing.

  His silence made her ever more determined to get her friends out of 1861.

  She escaped the darkness and plowed into a frantic housemaid. “Mademoiselle Ophélie! We have more guests from abroad!”

  “Slow yourself,” Ophélie gently admonished. “What do you mean, more guests?”

  “They appeared from nowhere, as Lord Donnelly and his wife. Three of them! A man, a woman, and another young man, though we don’t know if they’re relations. We did not get word, or see a carriage pull up.”

  Ophélie had a strong suspicion about the cause of this, but she had no time to question. “Where is our pigeonnier? Is he still away visiting family?”

  “Our… what? Yes, mademoiselle. Why?”

  “Take our new guests to his quarters adjoining the pigeonnier. Tell them I will be with them soon.”

  “You do not want me to bring them here? To the Big House?”

  “Not at present,” Ophélie nearly snapped, exasperated at the sudden turn of events. “Have you seen Lord and Lady Donnelly?”

  “They retired to their room hours ago. I have not seen them since.”

  “Very well. See to our guests. I will be there soon. And tell no one else until I say so, is that clear?”

  The maid nodded and ran off.

  Ophélie prayed she held enough weight with the staff for her words to be enough.

  She lifted her skirts and ran up the stairs toward Amelia and Jacob’s chambers.

  Not a moment to waste.

  XXXV

  Curiously, they were expected.

  Or, at the very least, there had been a distinct lack of shock when they popped out of thin air, in clothes from another time, unannounced.

  A young girl in a paisley house dress greeted Ana, Finn, and Aleksei, flustered but otherwise unimpressed, and she quickly ushered them to the building Ana recognized as the pigeonnier’s house. It was not in service in her time. In fact, the building was hardly standing. To see it now—as she witnessed all of Ophélie, bustling and in its prime, on full display as they were rushed across the grounds—was nothing short of awe-inspiring.

  The girl mumbled to herself as she ran ahead of them, skirt in hand, flashing impatient glances behind her every yard or so.

  “What’s happening, Mora?” Aleksandr asked, pacing them with wide eyes. “Why are we running?”

  “We’ll find out soon,” she answered. The question was at the top of her mind, too. Right behind wondering if Amelia and Jacob were going to come walking out of the bungalow when they arrived.

  They did not.

  Instead, Amelia and Jacob came to the new arrivals.

  Amelia swayed on her feet when she entered the small cottage attached to the pigeonnier. Jacob observed his wife closely but did not reach out to steady her. Ana smiled at his need to guard her balancing against the awareness Amelia didn’t need protection. The behavior reminded her of Finn.

  “Ana. I must be dreaming,” Amelia breathed, half-laughing, half-crying as Ana launched into her arms. At that moment, as they held one another, Ana realized that, despite how closely their futures were supposedly aligned, the two of them had seen very little of each other in years.

  “You’ve had a week to adjust to life here,” Ana laughed. “Imagine how we feel.”

  “I wouldn’t say we’ve adjusted.” Jacob laughed, with a quick look to Finn.

  They will need each other, Anasofiya. As you and Amelia will need one another.

  Aidrik’s gentle voice awakened within her for the first time since arriving in the past. It soothed her, as his guidance always had, even though he lacked a physical presence. For now.

  “What year is this?” Finn and Aleksandr asked at the same time.

  “It’s 1861,” Amelia answered. She took a seat on a tiny wooden bench. “January. We’re going to war.”

  “We?” Finn repeated.

  “They, I guess,” she said. “We’re getting the hell out of here before Jacob gets roped into service to the Confederacy.” Her eyes fell on Aleksandr. “Ana… he looks just like you.”

  “He’s our son,” Ana said, pressing him forward with a soft nudge. “Aleksandr. Aleksei, we call him. Named for the men of my mother’s family.”

&
nbsp; Amelia’s eyes went blank as she evaluated the boy who could pass for someone in his early twenties. Whatever she had been through had prepared her for this moment of disbelief. She didn’t question it. She only smiled. “Aleksei, what an honor to meet you. We’re cousins.”

  “You can call her Auntie Amelia,” Ana said, thinking of Aidrik’s words before they’d taken the leap. You and Amelia must stay close to one another. You will require each other in a way you have never needed anyone. If she was not your closest confidante before now, let her become so. You will be as sisters.

  I’ve never had a sister, Aidrik. How am I supposed to know what that’s like?

  As with all that has happened to you in the past year, Kjære, you will learn.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Auntie Amelia,” Aleksandr said with a shy smile, “and Uncle Jacob.”

  Ana introduced the men, and the five shared more hugs and pleasantries, actions Ana herself had never been good at or comfortable with. The men joked about the situation, a coping mechanism if she’d ever seen one. As they did, Ana met Amelia’s eyes, and the two understood one another entirely.

  “We don’t have much time. Let’s quickly catch each other up, say our goodbyes, and get out of here,” Amelia said with a gesture toward the other benches scattered around the small, handmade table.

  She didn’t ask why the others were there.

  Amelia and Jacob’s journey had been extraordinary. Ana was compelled by their frankness in the telling and their courage in enduring the past days under the same roof as Brigitte and Jean.

  “We always believed Brigitte’s love for Ophélie was what drove her anger,” Ana said, shaking her head.

  “We had some warning of the truth,” Amelia answered. “Jasper’s daughter, Estella, came across some old letters when you guys were overseas, one of which was from Charles, laying out some truths that didn’t match our version of the story at all. My mother has them in the Council archives. He claimed Brigitte was evil and wanted Ophélie to have children with her brothers to protect the bloodline and our abilities. Horrible, horrible stuff. Katja was close to figuring this out, too, before everything went sideways. And now we know this is all true. Poor Ophélie endured horrible things at the hands of her mother, and Jean. Thank God, Fitz was too young to participate.”

  “Madness has run in the Deschanel line for centuries, especially among the women. That’s not a secret,” Jacob said. When both women shot him a look laced with daggers, he added quickly, “Present company excluded, obviously.”

  Finn laughed. “Here I thought it was hormones.” Ana silenced him from her peripheral.

  “No,” Ana said. “It’s not a secret. But we can’t dismiss every evil act as madness, either. Aidrik’s blood runs through all of our veins, and we know today how this happened. But back then, how could they? Charles and his family didn’t even know who Aidrik was, or that he existed. They probably assumed their gifts were some sort of divine right, the way kings used to look at the regency.”

  “But most kings didn’t mess around with their sisters,” Jacob said. “Those monarchs might play in the same ocean, but even they knew dipping in the same pond was a bad idea.”

  “Who knows what some of those in power would have done if they possessed the abilities of the Deschanels?”

  “Also,” Amelia went on, “I believe the loss of the particular abilities when they came to Louisiana may be part of what drove Brigitte mad.”

  “How so?” Ana asked.

  “We all know about Aidrik’s ward.” Amelia checked around the room at her small audience. “That when he placed it on this property, it repressed the gifts of anyone within. This is why Nicolas and his sisters, or anyone else in the heir’s direct line, never exhibited powers until they left the plantation for long periods. It wasn’t until exposed to a full-blooded Empyrean, in this case, Mercy, that this part of the ward neutralized. But Brigitte doesn’t understand the facts. She only knows they were powerful when they left France but aren’t any longer. A divine right becomes a divine punishment.”

  “She would have pushed Jean and Ophélie together anyway, but knowing this explains her urgency,” Jacob said. “The woman was desperate for an heir, and believed they were being punished for leaving France.”

  “Crazy!” Aleksandr exclaimed. He’d been thoughtful, quiet, throughout Amelia and Jacob’s animated retelling. “So, what does this have to do with why we’re all here?”

  Ana met Amelia’s eyes again. Amelia had told the story of Victor and Ophélie, but the words had passed secretly, and wordlessly, between cousins. “Amelia and Jacob had some lessons the goddess wanted to share, and they could only learn them here.”

  “Did you?” Aleksandr probed, looking at Amelia. “Learn them?”

  Amelia and Jacob exchanged a drowsy smile. “Yes,” they both said.

  “What do you think about this whole idea of the prophecy?” Finn asked anyone in general. “All four of us are linked by it, but this is the first time we’ve even been in a room together. We should talk about this. Everyone thinks Aleksei needs to hook up with your offspring, but you haven’t had one, and even if you do, both Aleksandr and your daughter have the right to choose for themselves. Tell me you agree.”

  Jacob squeezed his wife’s hand. He answered for them both. “We know what’s expected. We’ve heard the words, too, but we’re taking this one day at a time. Who knows, we might have a daughter, or we might not. If we do, she’ll choose for herself.”

  “But we believe this? The prophecy?” Finn seemed almost desperate for accordance.

  Everyone nodded.

  Finn shook his head. His brows connected in a tight line. “This is where I keep getting hung up. We all agree the prophecy is real because we’ve heard the words of the goddess in our own ways. We’ve all come to this point. But when it gets down to the real meat of the situation, each of us acts as if that part is optional.”

  “Are you suggesting we force our kids to lie back and think of England?” Jacob asked, without a smile. “‘Do it’ for the prophecy?”

  “No. Hell no,” Finn said. “But how can we believe in everything leading up to that part before completely disregarding it? I don’t know, I guess I’m having a crisis of faith. I don’t understand what’s right. I just needed to get it out.”

  Amelia jumped into the conversation offering Finn a thin smile. “I get it and think that’s how we all feel.”

  “Too much is riding on the shoulders of four people making decisions for two,” Jacob said. “Peace between everyone sounds really great and all, but sometimes I wonder if the goddess lacks foresight.”

  “Hello, I’m sitting right here,” Aleksandr said, throwing his hands out. “Don’t I get a say?”

  “You get the only say,” Ana told him.

  “Then can I tell you what I think?”

  All eyes traveled to Aleksandr.

  “I believe,” he said, “that the four of you talking about my future is kinda pointless. I’ve accepted what my role is, and if Aunt Amelia and Uncle Jacob have a little girl who grows up to be an adult in weeks like I did, well, maybe she’ll feel this way, too. If she doesn’t, then I don’t know what we do. But if she does, isn’t that her decision, the same way it’s mine?”

  “You fell in love and gave it up. For this,” Finn accused, though his anger was directed elsewhere. “That’s not freedom. It’s not peace. To anyone outside this room, you may just be a means to an end, but to Ana and me, you’re our son. And if Amelia and Jacob have a child, she’ll be their daughter. If we don’t advocate for your free will, no one else is going to.”

  “You keep saying that, Far, but when I say my decision is to follow the path the goddess laid for me, you act as though that isn’t the right one. If you believe I have autonomy, then you must believe I can make this decision for myself. Free will means I get to decide, not you,” Aleksandr snapped. When the words were out, he blushed at his self-assurance.

  It is time to le
ave, Aidrik whispered. Encourage your cousins to say their goodbyes. Aleksandr is correct. There is no gain in debating a fate only he and his intended mate get a say in deciding.

  No matter what he decides, I’m afraid there can’t be a happy ending.

  Fear takes us nowhere good. Instead, lead with courage.

  “We need to go,” Ana interrupted. “We came here to find you two, and we did. With the war party going on in the parlor, and Brigitte and Jean out to get half of us, every moment we spend here is dangerous. Undoubtedly, we have much more to talk about, but we can do it safely at home. Agree?”

  “We need to say goodbye to Ophélie,” Amelia said, rising. “I can’t leave without it.”

  “Of course,” Ana said. Quietly, to Amelia only she added… and Victor?

  It’s best for both of us if I don’t.

  What if he follows you?

  He wouldn’t. But Amelia didn’t sound sure.

  Be careful. I have a bad feeling we’re already on borrowed time.

  Me too.

  Amelia slipped away to find Ophélie. She wanted to go alone and promised to be quick. When she was gone, Finn turned Jacob and asked, “What happened to the two of you?”

  “We just told you.”

  “No… before. Prior to your arrival here. I don’t mean to be intrusive, but I sense things now, and I sense something really bad happened.”

  “Finn is coming into his ability as an empath,” Ana explained.

  Jacob focused down at his hands. “I’ve never talked about it out loud. I’m honestly not sure if I can.”

  Ana laid a hand on his shoulder. Finn placed his on the other. “Amelia isn’t the only one who needs to forgive herself,” she said.

  XXXVI

  Ophélie awaited her in the grove of oaks. Her meaningful smile suggested she knew exactly why Amelia had sought her out.