The man opened his mouth, and in a harsh whisper greeted him. “Hello, Cyrus.”
He choked back his surprise. “Thoreoux? What the hell?”
The face of the man twisted into a horrible smile. “Do you like it?”
“No, I don’t. Can you actually see me?”
“Through this vessel, yes I can.”
“What are those things?” Cyrus asked, disgusted. Both the man and the lion were staring at him hungrily.
“They’re spies. I need eyes in Methelwood, and it’s not like I can waltz into your overprotective orb. Montesquieu has been interpreting new spells with the Book lately. I’m quite impressed with his work.”
“The Book. I should have known,” Cyrus said disgustedly. “So you’re cursing people now? You’re taking humans and animals alive and turning them into this? Can they survive it?”
“No. The animals have been dying fairly quickly. This is the first human to be possessed, and already he’s starting to decay. The palewraiths are very resistant to this magic, which kills the victims faster.”
Cyrus rolled his eyes at Thoreoux’s arrogance, when a thought hit him. “Wait, that would mean someone else who works for you is in Methelwood besides me, doing this.”
“Yes, I sent someone to Methelwood when the Eldoir moved there. I’ve had him try out some experiments for me.”
Cyrus crossed his arms; he didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “Surely you didn’t ask me to meet you to show off? What do you want?”
The demonic smile on the puppet-man disappeared. “I want to hear about your progress. I’ve been following the girl regularly now, but I want the opinion from someone who has seen her with his own two eyes.”
Cyrus crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “I’m pretty sure she’s the one. At first I thought maybe it was his girlfriend, this girl named Rozelyn Woodworker, but then I found out she was indifferent to him when they first met.”
“I see. How do you know?”
“Have you seen the way Rathers looks at him? She’s mistrustful of him, but she stares at him like he’s the focal point of the world. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“How about the voices?”
“Still there. She hasn’t actually said out loud the voice is his, but who else would it be? I’ve got to say, you may be a paranoid bastard, but you’ve got the most uncanny hunches I’ve ever seen in a person. You would have made a fantastic Eldoir.”
Cyrus backed away further when the lion growled at him. One day, he thought, he would have to learn to stop provoking his master.
“Well, she does fit the profile. Although I’m not one hundred percent sure, what you have told me is enough.”
“What’s funny is Persephone hasn’t noticed,” Cyrus said. It was the first subject changer he could think of.
Thoreoux bared his teeth. “She has always been purposefully ignorant. How ironic is it that our little girl is friends with her?”
“She hasn’t spoken to me once, you know. She doesn’t even look at me. It’s like she’s trying to will me out of Methelwood.”
“We’ll worry about Persephone later. You know how she is with her denial. On the matter at hand: I want to kill the girl now.”
Cyrus’s knees buckled under him. “W – what? Now?”
“Of course. Listen, Cyrus, these vessels I’ve created are under my full control. I’ll spare you the details, but more are being made. By the end of the week I’ll have enough to kill her without any problem. When they are ready, they’ll be sent to the mansion. I want you to lead them to her.”
Cyrus gaped and stuttered in a way he had never done in his life. “You mean these weird demon people?”
“Yes. Cyrus, the girl is getting suspicious. She and her friends are planning to use a dream downloader this weekend. It would be preferable if she was killed before she found out the connection between her and Crawford. If she tells him, we will have him to deal with as well.”
Red spots flared on Cyrus’s pale cheekbones. He was getting rather tired of Thoreoux telling him only part of his plans – how did he expect him to be his right hand man when he knew so little?
“Alright, fine. Are you going to bother to tell me who your other ally is here?”
The demonic smile was back. “No.”
And before Cyrus had a chance to reply, Thoreoux’s two puppets exited back the way they had come, through the destroyed stain glass window.
Chapter 12
Ministrial
Finally, after a month of waiting, Emmy was getting her cast taken off for good. She almost skipped into Methelwood’s Mercy Hospital, and she beamed when Milo gestured for her to come with him. Like last time, they passed many stretchers with groaning young people on them. Emmy recognized a couple of the patients from school.
“I noticed that all of the diseases treated here are physical, not mental,” Emmy said before she could stop herself.
Milo wasn’t offended. “As a registered mentalist (Emmy learned that was the equivalent of a psychologist) and doctor, the one thing I’m proud to report is that mental health abnormalities are sparse and few. Sometimes I wonder why they even have a ward, to be honest.”
She was taken into a white room similar to the last one. Milo asked her a few quick questions regarding her health, and she told him she was great, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.
Emmy was left alone for a few minutes, her dominant arm quivering in her cast, wanting to be free.
She was jolted out of her thoughts when two people burst through the door. Emmy’s head snapped up, expecting to see Milo. What she was not expecting to see was a nurse dragging in Cyrus Crow, who appeared to have a fractured rib.
The nurse settled him down into the bed beside her, informing him he would be seen by a doctor as soon as possible. He was charming, assuring her he could stand the wait. When she left, however, the suaveness instantly disappeared, and he snapped his head in Emmy’s direction.
“Hi, again,” she said stiffly. She tried to keep her emotions under control, but she felt anger bubbling inside her. She was dubious about the strained pain over his supposedly cracked rib.
“Hello.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed into a sitting position. “I never got to congratulate you yesterday. In peacekeeping class.”
“What are you talking about? You won.”
“Still, you did well.” Emmy’s breathing quickened as he stepped out of his bed and made his way over to hers. She inched away when he sat on her bed, less than a foot away from her legs. “You and the Eldoir make quite a team.”
Emmy’s eyes darted toward the door. She really hoped the doctor would be coming back soon.
“Although, you did have a little bit of an advantage over all of us,” he continued, moving closer to her the more she tried to move away. Emmy froze as his arm slithered across the blanket and wrapped itself around her wrist. “Considering you two can talk to each other in your heads.”
Emmy choked on nothing but air. “I – I don’t –”
“Yes you can. Don’t deny it. Now listen very carefully, because I’m not going to repeat this,” his hand clamped harder on her wrist until she felt pain. His face was inches from hers. “Stay away from Breckin Crawford.”
Her mouth went sand-dry. He was so blatant - she couldn’t sidestep. She tried to yank her arm out of his, and all he did was tighten his grip.
“Or what?”
The sides of his mouth curled. “And nobody gets hurt.”
Emmy let out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m threatening both of you.”
Both of you. Without volition, Breckin came to her mind, and not in the way she expected. She didn’t think of his seriousness over trying to pin Cyrus, or the uncomfortable conversation they had had at The Noir Beanery, or even the blazing look he had worn when they first met. The picture that came to mind was when he had laughed at her, the sound ringing in her head, seeing the so
ft crinkles on his face.
“I know who you are. Breckin told me.”
“Then you know what I can do to you if you don’t listen. Now promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
His grip on her started to numb her arm. The look in his eyes was nearly maniacal, pushing her into subservience, and that was how she knew she couldn’t give him what he wanted.
“No.”
He yanked even harder, and she had to bite her lip to stifle a noise of pain. “I can wait all day, Rathers. Don’t think I won’t break your other arm if I have to. Now say it – stay away from him. Don’t go trying to find him, don’t talk to him, don’t even look at him. Promise me.”
She debated it; he was threatening that he would hurt them both of if she conversed with him – maybe it would be worth it to stay away.
He pulled her arm closer to him. “Rathers, please.”
Emmy stopped struggling at the sound of his tone. His polished voice cracked on the demand, making it sound more like a plead. She forced herself to look at him again and was surprised; he looked like a child about to get into trouble.
“Fine,” she sighed, without any intention of keeping her promise. And just like that, he let her go.
“There, was that so hard?” His eyes lingered on the doorway. “You know, my rib is suddenly feeling a lot better. I’m going to skip the doctor today. Take care of yourself, Rathers.”
Then he was gone.
Emmy barely moved for several minutes, besides kneading out the kink in her wrist.
Now what was she to do? She laid her head on her pillow, seething. She was supposed to meet Breckin in an hour to go talk to Circlet. If they would be able to convince her about Cyrus, he would be gone, and no longer a threat. Unfortunately, she wasn’t acquainted Circlet well enough to judge whether or not they had a shot. Still, Cyrus had directly threatened her, and she wanted him gone.
***
After she got her cast off and received her medication, which Milo did with great speed and efficiency, she headed to The Noir Beanery to see Breckin. Every few minutes she would check over her shoulder to make sure nobody was following her.
When she got there, he was already waiting. She stood several feet away from him, watching him for a few moments. He was skipping on the spot, his eyes far off in thought. He was thinking about what made him happiest. Rozelyn.
She chose that moment to interrupt, walking up to him with a small smile on her face, which he returned.
“Ready?” he said.
“Ready.”
The two of them walked in amiable silence to the living complex. Breckin’s mind wandered, which ended up on why he was here - Cyrus.
Emmy looked around; the two of them were alone now, in the middle of the woods where no one would disturb them. She wanted to know more, and this was her opportunity to find out.
“So,” she said, jolting him into reality. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“All of this stuff with the Crows ... I mean, you seem to know a lot about them.” She turned away from his usual sharp gaze that intimidated her so much, and instead looked straight ahead. “But ... it seems more personal than that. How could you know when Cyrus and Brynn were taken, for instance?”
When she turned to him again, his face had fallen, that dent between his forehead returning, which bothered her. She didn’t like to be the one causing that dent.
I shouldn’t be telling her this. I don’t even know her.
“I want to be a counsellor when I’m older,” Emmy said stupidly. “I mean, uh, I’m a good listener, if you know what I mean. Not judgemental.”
Despite himself, he grinned, and Emmy felt a tiny burst of triumph inside her.
This is so weird. I just met her, and I want to tell her ... why do I want to tell her? He was struggling with himself. Everyone already knows, it’s not like I would be telling her anything secret. Still, she doesn’t know yet, it would be like sharing a secret ...
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Emmy said.
No, I sort of want to. She’s so refreshing, not knowing anything. Like I have some control over telling her ...
“Well,” he said slowly. “This is kind of weird talking to you about this, because everyone already knows a lot of this. It’s common knowledge, so I’ve never really talked about it before, but ...” he took a deep breath, “Cyrus is my stepbrother.”
Emmy blinked. She was lost for words; how could she have been surfing through his brain for so long and not picked up on this information? There was expectancy on his face as she gawked.
“How is that possible?” she said.
“My mother, Clara, married Rhoan Crow when I was nine.”
Emmy was almost ashamed of herself for missing this crucial detail. Questions burst into her mind like a tidal wave. “That’s crazy! Didn’t she know he worked for the man who’s trying to kill you?”
Breckin opened and closed his mouth several times.
I shouldn’t have said anything ... Now I’m going to have to tell her everything.
“No,” Emmy said, without thinking. “You don’t owe me any sort of explanation.”
She’s going to find out eventually. It might as well come from me.
“It’s okay. Um, see, when I was a kid, my parents didn’t tell anybody about me being the Eldoir because of the stigma and all. But since I manifested before puberty I was destroying things all the time, so of course, people eventually found out.” He inhaled an incredibly shaky breath. Half of Emmy wanted to tell him to stop for his sake, but she was becoming morbidly curious as to why he was being so reluctant to tell her. “Um, eventually Thoreoux’s goals became public, and a select few took his side. Some people believed in what he said, others believed he was the true Eldoir. Anyways, word got around, and he found me.”
His thoughts were racing so quickly Emmy couldn’t make sense of them. On top of that, his already soft-spoken voice had lowered so much Emmy had to lean in slightly to hear him.
“When I was nine, he ordered some of his allies to kill me in my home in Hestgarth, and um ... well, my parents were able to get me out, but ...” his eyes had gone vacant. “Um, he killed my little sister, Rebecca.”
Oh, God, why am I telling her this?
Somehow, Emmy was able to keep her face neutral. After years of pretending to counsel her friends, she had mastered the poker face. It was worth it not to interrupt; she wanted to hear more. But she felt her eyes sting.
“Anyways, um, that sort of became enough for my dad. He and my mom had this huge fight and he finally just left.” At the same moment he thought, Because he knew Becca was the only thing worth staying in this family for. “He left the responsibility of me on my mom. I haven’t seen him since.”
There were many, many things Emmy wanted to say, and all of them were empty platitudes. She racked her brain for things her psychologist self would say, and came up with nothing.
“So, you asked why my mother married Rhoan – I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ Well, she did that. She changed our names, and I shifted to look like a stranger, and stayed that way for years. She figured Rhoan would never suspect Mom would ever be mad enough to pull something off like that, and she was right.
“We stayed in Rhoan’s house for about three years. It wasn’t a great situation, but it worked for us. It was kind of brilliant, actually – Mom was able to get a hold of all Thoreoux’s plans, and we grew to know all of Thoreoux’s closest friends.”
He was leaving something out, of course. Emmy’s gut twisted as images flipped through Breckin’s mind of Rhoan beating him. Breckin could have fought him off of course, but that would have blown the cover. Breckin’s mother never knew.
“Why didn’t you tell your mom he hurt you?” she asked without thinking.
He was so uncomfortable he didn’t notice the slip up. “What was the point? We were safe, and it would h
ave just upset her more. Anyways, Thoreoux was always looking for me, and Rhoan had tracked down some of my distant relatives. He was gaining leads on where I was, and Mom knew it was time to go.” He put his hands, which were trembling madly, into his pockets to hide them from Emmy. “She knew Rhoan couldn’t share this information with Thoreoux, so, the night before we left ... she killed him in his sleep.” He said it very quickly.
“I’m pretty sure that’s why Cyrus hates me so much,” he continued. “I’m the reason his father is dead. Anyway, let’s just say she did something to me to make sure Thoreoux couldn’t ever hurt me, and then dropped me in the safest place in the world. Methelwood. Now I live with my Uncle Noah, my dad’s brother, and haven’t seen my mom since I was twelve. She’s on the run, knowing if Ministrial ever finds her, she’ll be thrown in prison on account about a four page list of felonies.”
Breckin politely let everything he had said filter into Emmy’s mind.
Stop being stupid, he said to himself. Everyone knows this, it’s nothing personal. Still, it’s weird seeing someone’s reaction to this for the first time. Is she crying?
She lowered her face, letting her thick mane of hair cover her from view. Well, it wasn’t hard to understand now why these thoughts never passed through his head on a daily basis.
“I’m sorry.” She mentally kicked herself for saying the least personal and stupidest thing she could have said. He had just shared his worst memories, and even if everyone did know them, it was still hard for him to say. Even though it was the last thing she wanted to do, she knew she should probably share something back. “Look, nothing like that has ever happened to me, but I know what it’s like to be ripped from your family and your home.”
As uncomfortable as it was, she made herself look at him. That naked sincerity his face always showed made it almost unnecessary to read his mind. “You’re amazing. No, don’t laugh, I’m serious. Most people would never be able to handle something like that. I practically had a mental breakdown when I came here, but you’re here, and you’re okay. You’re still training to do the job that risked your life and destroyed your family.”
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