Wirr had visited his father’s study again after dismissing Andyn for the evening, examining the safe for more than half an hour before eventually giving up. It was frustrating, but Wirr would have to go back to Ilin Illan and see if he could find a way to circumvent the protections on it.
“Tor!”
Wirr dragged himself to a halt, head snapping around at the familiar voice, which had reached his ear in a low whisper. He stared, stunned, when he saw the face peeking out from behind a half-open door.
“Del?” He slipped into the room, wrapping his younger sister in a tight hug. “It’s good to see you!”
Deldri hugged him back, then glanced warily out into the hallway, clearly wanting to be able to conceal herself again should someone else happen by. “You don’t look surprised to see me here.”
“Mother said that you were visiting friends,” Wirr said, lowering his voice to match Deldri’s. “But … it’s a big house. After the way she made you leave at the funeral, and the way she’s been acting, I did wonder.” He frowned. “I’m surprised she convinced you to stay away for this long, though.”
“There wasn’t much convincing involved. She’s had a man posted outside my room since about midday.”
“What?” Wirr stared at his sister in horror. “She actually locked you up?”
“Well …” Deldri shrugged. “Basically.”
“Uh.” Wirr shook his head in disbelief. “I’m so sorry, Del. That’s … horrible. How did you get away?”
Deldri smiled. “They either don’t understand how windows work, or they think that girls can’t climb. I’m not sure which.”
Wirr chuckled, then sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Well. At least I’m left in no doubt as to how she feels about me, then. Not that there was much to begin with,” he added heavily.
“She’s being stupid.” Deldri’s expression darkened. “I knew she was angry, after she found out—I think more at Father than at you—but she’s been acting so strangely over the past few weeks, Tor. Things have been …” She shook her head. “I’ve been wanting for us to go back to the city—you’re there, and Uncle and Kara, and all my friends—but she won’t even think about it. It’s like she wants us to stay out here forever.”
Wirr studied his younger sister for a moment. She was nearly fourteen, more adult every time he saw her, and it appeared that the past month had changed her even more. The innocent girl he’d met after returning from Caladel was gone—replaced by someone just a little older, a little more world-weary. It saddened him … but in many ways it made him trust her more, too.
“She’s certainly upset about me taking over father’s position,” he agreed ruefully. “I came here to get some things from his study, but she let someone else from Administration clear it out first. She had to know I’d be interested in what was in there.”
Deldri peered at him. “Ah. That’s … not true. About Administration clearing it out, I mean.”
Wirr frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I helped mother take everything out of that room this morning,” said Deldri. “That was why she originally said that those men were here. She told me that she wanted the room for something else … but everything in there just got shifted to one of the back rooms. It’s a mess, but it’s all still there.”
Wirr’s heart leaped. “I don’t suppose you want to show me?”
Deldri leaned across and peered cautiously out the door. “I’ll make you a deal. I show you, and you take me with you.”
Wirr blinked. “Back to Ilin Illan?”
“Please.” Deldri looked at him imploringly. “She locked me up, Tor. Things have been horrible here. She doesn’t really talk to me anymore; she’s been preoccupied with something, and I feel more like I’m in the way than anything else. It’s not as if there’s any danger now, and I can go back to my old room and keep up with my studies in Ilin Illan. With my friends. And you and Kara and Uncle will all be there to look out for me.” She widened her eyes at him, a look that she knew he’d always had a difficult time resisting. “Please.” Despite her deliberately obvious attempt at softening him up, Wirr could hear the desperation underpinning her words.
Wirr ran his hands through his hair. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and it appeared that his mother had no intention of returning to court anytime soon. Normally he’d have suggested that Deldri stay—he didn’t like the thought of his mother being out here with only the staff to keep her company, no matter how she was acting toward him—but if Deldri’s account was accurate, things were worse than he’d imagined. It was hardly fair to his sister to just leave her here.
“Show me this room first,” he said eventually. “I can’t just take you with me, but I promise I’ll speak to Mother about it before I leave. I’ll push for it to happen.” His expression darkened. “It seems that we’re going to have some … controversial things to speak about anyway, so I may as well add it to the list.”
Deldri gave him a brief, impromptu hug, abruptly looking much cheerier. Wirr smiled. For some reason, he’d known that Deldri wouldn’t have cared about him being Gifted. It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about—she’d been too young for such serious conversations, before he’d left for Caladel—but his little sister had always been a bright spot for him.
They made their way cautiously back down the stairs and toward the back end of the mansion. This area was sparsely furnished, the rooms used more for storage than any day-to-day purposes. Deldri eventually located the door she was looking for and opened it wide, admitting Wirr.
Wirr sighed as he entered. Loose papers spilled everywhere on the ground, while wobbly-looking piles of books were stacked unevenly against the wall, some having already fallen down. The floor of the small room was barely visible beneath the chaos.
“Still haven’t figured out the whole ‘neatness’ thing, I see,” he murmured as he stepped inside. “Is there any order to this?”
Deldri gave him a stare. “If you’re going to be like that …”
Wirr felt the corners of his mouth curl upward. “That’s a no, then.” He scratched his head. “So … where would you advise we start, Del? I’m looking for a key, but I’m not sure where Father would have kept it.”
Deldri scratched her head. “I wasn’t exactly paying attention when we were putting—”
“Throwing?” interrupted Wirr.
“Putting everything in here,” continued Deldri emphatically, “but I think I remember seeing a key in one of his desk drawers. We put everything like that over there in the corner. Placed it there. Very carefully,” she added, sticking out her tongue.
Wirr just grinned in response, stepping over some detritus to the shambolic pile that Deldri had indicated. He began sorting through some of the papers—now that he was here, there was no point wasting the opportunity—and felt a stab of sadness as he recognized the familiar, flowing handwriting that his mother had always complained was neater than hers.
There was nothing much of interest at first. Run-of-the-mill orders to Administration that Elocien had never gotten around to sending. Some notes on how to improve the rotations of the Administrators, so that there were fewer personal conflicts with the Gifted in outlying areas. A list of those who were excelling in their fields and were in line for promotion; that one Wirr carefully folded and pocketed, resolving to look into those people’s performances. Assuming that they were still alive, of course. Plenty of Administrators from the city had died in the fighting a month ago.
When Wirr picked up the next notebook, though, something small and metallic dropped with a small thud onto the carpet and bounced away. Heart skipping a beat, he stepped over a pile of haphazardly strewn paper and snatched it up, examining it closely.
Etched into the metal was the symbol of the Tenets—a man, woman, and child, enclosed in a circle.
“Found it,” he said, exhaling. He shot his sister a relieved smile. “Looks like this might not be a wasted trip after all.”
“I don’t think she even knows about it,” admitted Wirr. “I suspect this was all just a way to … inconvenience me. She really doesn’t think I should be in charge of Administration.” He sighed heavily, glancing at his sister. “It’s not just time, is it. She’s never going to support me in this.”
Deldri shrugged awkwardly. “You’re probably right. It’s been … it’s been bad the past few years, Tor,” she admitted, voice catching a little. “Ever since you left, whenever she and Father were together, it would end up in a fight. She was always saying that he’d changed, that he’d stopped standing up for what he believed in.”
She glanced to the side. “He’d started telling me not to hate people like … you. Like the Gifted and the Augurs,” she added softly. “He never said anything about you, specifically, but it made sense to me when we found out.” She swallowed. “When Mother heard what he’d been telling me, it all but ended things between them. After that, I don’t think he spent another full night here.”
Wirr listened in silence, wanting to offer comfort but knowing he couldn’t. He was responsible—the reason his parents had grown apart. He understood now why Elocien had chosen not to tell Geladra the truth … and he also understood what a toll that must have taken on his father. On both of his parents, and his sister as a result.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, meaning it.
Deldri gave him a small smile. “I’m old enough to think for myself, Tor. I know it’s not your fault, and I know it wasn’t Father’s, either.” She fell silent, her omission clearly indicating whom she thought was at fault.
Wirr grimaced. “Don’t be so quick to judge her,” he said gently. “She’s been through a lot.”
Deldri snorted. “Tell me you think I’m wrong.”
Wirr hesitated, but he wasn’t able to lie to his sister. “Just … don’t hate her for it, Del,” he said softly. “If this was a few months ago, I might have felt differently, but … I see people like her every day in the city. The problem is that she remembers when a lot of people with these abilities did bad things, so she assumes that there’s a connection. She’s scared there’s a connection.”
Deldri shook her head. “If you say so,” she said, clearly unconvinced.
Wirr sighed, gesturing to the door. “We should keep moving. I need to see whether this is actually the key I’m after.”
They started toward Elocien’s office, twice having to duck into rooms as they caught glimpses of their mother’s men, who were seemingly patrolling the house. There was no indication that they’d been spotted, though, and soon enough they reached their destination.
For a moment Wirr considered asking his sister to give him some privacy—he didn’t know what he was going to find in the safe—but as much as Deldri had grown up, he still risked a commotion if he tried to leave her out of this now. He waited until she had shut the door behind her, then carefully pressed his Administrator’s Mark against the symbol on the wall. Deldri watched in wide-eyed fascination as the panel slid back and Wirr produced the metallic key, slotting it into the lock.
It turned with a well-oiled click.
The door to the safe swung open silently and Wirr peered inside, heart pounding. Part of him—the part that remained suspicious of Scyner and his intent—wanted there to be nothing. It would be disappointing, but undoubtedly simpler.
When he saw the thick leather-bound notebook sitting inside, though, he breathed a sigh of relief. As much as he’d wanted Scyner to be wrong, his desire for answers was stronger still.
He carefully drew the heavy book out. It looked old but in good condition, with the pages sealed inside the cover the entire way around by what appeared to be thick red wax. He examined it curiously for a moment, then stuck his hand back into the safe, feeling around to make sure that there wasn’t anything he’d missed. He was just about to give up when his fingers brushed against something hard and sharp in the back.
Frowning, he reached in farther and pulled out a black shard of stone no longer than his thumb. It was rounded, mostly smooth, but tapered to a jagged point at the end.
“What is it?” asked Deldri.
Wirr’s brow furrowed as he recognized the object. “An Oathstone.” One of the Vessels that were used to swear in Administrators. It wasn’t awfully strange that his father had had one, he supposed … but then, they were rare. Rare enough that keeping one hidden away from Administration like this was at least a little odd.
Then he thought of what Laiman had told him before he’d left, about the ‘unofficial’ Administrators. His father wouldn’t have been involved in anything like that, surely?
“Deldri!”
Wirr snapped out of his reverie, heart sinking as he turned to see his mother in the doorway, staring at the two of them with deep disapproval. Someone must have seen them coming back here after all. For a brief, panicked moment he considered trying to conceal the open safe and the book in his hand, but even as he had the thought, his mother’s gaze took all of it in. He kept his right fist closed, hiding at least the Oathstone from view.
“What is that?” Geladra’s tone hardened as she spotted the hefty leather-bound tome. “How did you …”
“I was told about it,” said Wirr calmly. “I need it for my research.”
“It’s not yours. You need to hand it over.”
Wirr stared at her in disbelief. “What? No.”
“Those belong to Administration, Torin.” His mother’s tone was firm.
“I’m the Northwarden.” Wirr growled the words. “And he was my father. Those two things give me more right to these than anyone.”
Geladra scowled at that, but seemed to understand that her son was not to be dissuaded. She turned her gaze to Deldri. “And you disobeyed me. I was very clear in my—”
“I don’t care,” snapped Deldri, much to both Wirr and Geladra’s surprise. “You kept me prisoner, and he’s my brother. There’s no reason I shouldn’t have been able to see him.” She moved a step closer to Wirr.
“She has a point,” said Wirr quietly, not wanting to anger his mother further but unable to keep silent. “I’m Gifted, Mother. Not ill. Not a monster. Not one of the ruling class from twenty years ago. I’m exactly the same person I was before you found out. I can almost understand why you lied to me about Father’s study—but lying to me about where Del was? Setting strange men to keep her locked up in her room? That’s horrible.”
Geladra flushed, but didn’t back down. “That’s your fault, Torin. I didn’t like doing it, but can’t you see? Your being Gifted is one thing, but it’s the way it influences you—and those around you—that’s the problem. You’re not the same person who left three years ago. And you’re not someone whose influence I wish to expose your sister to!” She all but shouted the last part, every word laced with angry defiance.
Wirr reeled back under the barrage, the blood draining from his face. This, evidently, was what his mother really thought of him.
He resisted the near-overwhelming urge to shout back, closing his eyes for a moment.
“I’ll go. It’s clear I’m not welcome here.” He met his mother’s gaze. “I will head back to Ilin Illan tonight. But I am taking the book.”
“And I’m going with him.”
Wirr grimaced as Deldri lifted her chin defiantly. Geladra stared for a moment, not quite understanding what her daughter was saying, and then gave a short, unamused laugh.
“You are not,” she said bluntly. She looked at Wirr. “She cannot go with you. You may be Northwarden, but you have no say over what your sister can and cannot do, nor what is best for her.” She held out her hand. “And you have no right to come in here and take something that doesn’t belong to you.” She glanced over her shoulder, out the door. “Markus. Please let your men know that if my son tries to leave with my property, you are to detain him.”
Wirr stared at her in disbelief as Markus’s lo
oming form filled the doorway, blocking his exit. He felt his face grow hot, and anger burned again deep in his chest. If he handed over the book to his mother, he’d never see it again.
“This has gone too far. You will let me take it,” he said grimly, calling her bluff. He hesitated. “And you will let Deldri come with me, too. Tell Markus that he and his men are to let us leave. I will not let this slide if you don’t,” he added quietly.
His mother gaped at him silently for a long few seconds. Then, looking as though it made her sick to her core, Geladra turned to Markus.
“Let them leave.”
The brutish man stared at her, looking as surprised as Wirr felt at his mother’s abrupt backing down. Still, eventually the man stepped aside with a scowl.
Wirr didn’t linger; assisted by an impatient shove from Deldri, he hurried out into the hallway.
“What was that?” he muttered to Deldri.
“I told you she’s been acting strange.” Deldri cast a glance over her shoulder. “We shouldn’t stay around for too long, though.”
Wirr grunted an acknowledgment. “Grab only the things you need. I’ll get Andyn,” he said quietly. “Meet me out front as soon as you can.”
His sister nodded at the urgency in his tone and dashed away.
Wirr hurried upstairs, flinching every time he saw one of his mother’s men in his path. None of them moved to stop him, though, and soon enough he was shaking Andyn by the shoulder.
“Sire?” Andyn peered up at him blearily, then came awake with alacrity as he registered the tension in Wirr’s expression.
“We’re leaving.” Wirr glanced behind him at the door. “Things got … ugly. My mother threatened to use force to stop me from keeping this.” He indicated the book, still in his hand.
“I’ll have the carriage brought around,” said Andyn, sliding into a standing position. The man apparently slept in clothing appropriate for such abrupt occurrences; once he’d buckled his sword to his side, he looked ready to go. “What about your other guest?”
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