by L. R. W. Lee
“Looks delicious,” I say, eliciting smiles from the pair as they leave.
“Tell me about the Empire of Glass,” I say, reaching for the lobster Florentine.
Harpoc brings up a finger and starts tapping his lips, ignoring the feast before us.
I help myself while he dithers.
He’s been keeping his word concerning being forthcoming, but when his contemplations extend beyond the few seconds it takes for me to fill my plate, my pulse rate increases.
“The Empire of Glass…,” he finally says, and I exhale, then offer to serve him, with a nod toward the food. He returns the gesture and I set to work. “You could call it, Secret’s counter. I’ve never known a time before its existence. The Ancient One created Glass when he created Secrets.”
The Ancient One. There’s that name again.
“Glass is to Secrets what salt is to pepper. Glass exists to reveal, while Secrets exists to conceal. We were created this way to balance each other.”
Call me fascinated. People created to reveal, I like these people without even meeting them.
“So Glass doesn’t do secrets?” I ask, even though it seems obvious, then take a bite.
Harpoc snorts. “Hardly. They exist to expose.”
“Hence why you and Glass don’t get along. And why you suspect them of causing these leaks.”
He swallows, then bobs his head, clenching his jaw.
I can’t miss the frustration. Seems it’s more than just not “getting along.”
“Have you ever met their emperor?”
“Yes, I’ve met him.” He doesn’t elaborate, but his knuckles turn white on his fork.
Time for a mood change, before this evening goes south.
I swallow a bite of lobster; the flavor is just amazing. “You spoke of the Ancient One. Aimil said something very curious to me about this creator of yours, earlier, too.”
“Oh? What’s that?” He furrows his brows.
“Nuria didn’t tell you?”
“No.” He forks the piece of lobster he’s just cut.
I smile. “She told you everything else.”
His smile’s back, as I say, “Aimil said, ‘The Ancient One did well.’”
Harpoc blinks, then tilts his head, and I can’t read him.
“What did she mean?”
He takes a deep breath, setting his fork down and adjusting the cloth napkin on his lap, then chuckles. “I will not pretend to know her mind.”
Nuria said nearly the same thing, smiling. Drove me nuts.
Harpoc’s smile fades, but it feels like he’s chewing on those words.
But why?
Chapter Fifteen
It’s so frustrating.
Why must he and Nuria and Aimil keep me in the dark? “The Ancient One did well.” There’s another secret that has nothing to do with my ring, and they’re staying quiet about it.
I turn to waiting him out because he promised to be forthcoming.
He sets down his fork. “Pell, perhaps she was commenting on your magic that the Ancient One instills in each of us. It shows great potential, even now.”
“My magic?” Somehow Nuria’s reaction doesn’t add up with this because she was grinning like she knew a juicy secret.
I give him a long look but choose not to probe further. I’ll eventually figure it out.
I pick up a roll. “If my ring blocks me from learning anything about sealing secrets, how was I able to hear what everyone said during your Core meeting, and see everything I have, while wearing it?” I ask, mopping up sauce.
It’s been bothering me all afternoon, as I warmed to the possibilities of what secret magic might allow me to do—it’s certainly increased my reading speed, and communicating with Portia has helped me feel connected again.
A corner of Harpoc’s mouth hitches as he wipes his hands on his napkin. “My little harpy is observant.”
I smile at the praise.
My inner minion groans.
“As it happens, my bringing you to Secrets nullified that. It would be a bit difficult to hide how this place works with you here, taking it all in.”
“I’m surprised it let you bring me, then. Secret magic has a mind of its own, as I discovered.” I smile.
He doesn’t.
Only Portia and the other steward’s arrival redirect his icy stare—I may have gotten past crashing and burning with Nuria, but it seems he’s still pissed at secret magic for what it did to me—as they clear our dirty dishes and replace them with a plate of what looks like cake balls, some smothered in peach, others in blue frosting.
“Aw, that’s so sweet, Portia. Thank you.” I am seriously loving this woman. She took my simple idea and ran with it.
A smile erupts on her face and she throws her shoulders back at my praise, then bows before the pair turns.
Harpoc’s grin is back and I can tell from the twinkle in his eyes that I’m amusing him. “And here I thought you’d only eat baklava.”
I snort. “When in Rome… or Greece as the case may be, but I’ll eat practically anything sweet, baklava just happens to be my greatest weakness.”
Harpoc picks up a blue ball with his fingers and leans forward, offering it up to me. “You are extraordinary, wonderful, and unique, Pellucid.”
My stomach quivers, much like the candles around the table that dance in the gentle breeze. But I’m unworthy of the sweetness of the sentiment and look down at my black dessert plate.
Without a word, he reaches over and lifts my chin with a finger, and I’ve no choice but to look into his eyes. “Don’t ever doubt that, Pell.”
My breathing labors.
He moves the morsel closer and holds it until I lean forward and take a nervous nibble. Light-blue cake is inside—it’s blue all the way through. The symbolism is not lost on me, but I can’t accept. I’m definitely unique—I’m an acquired taste; I’ve been told that plenty. Never will I be extraordinary, much less wonderful.
I can’t handle the rawness of this moment, so I grab a peach cake ball and shove it in my mouth—anything to break this vulnerability. But it’s bigger than my mouth can comfortably handle, and I snort, covering with a hand, while I chew as fast as I can.
Harpoc snorts in response, and we’re back to laughing, but I can see determination in his eyes, like he’s accepted a challenge. Lord, help me.
Three cake balls later—all peach—I wipe my mouth and place the napkin beside my plate, then lean back. “I’m stuffed.”
Harpoc rubs his firm stomach. “It was delicious. I think Portia enjoyed that. I don’t give her much of a challenge.”
“A regular homebody, huh?” He told me he’s a very private being, exactly how far does that extend?
A corner of his mouth hitches, but he doesn’t comment, only stands, then helps me with my chair, for which I award him another chivalry point.
“Let’s….” He nods toward the fire pit that spontaneously combusts with a flame, then calms a second later.
I can definitely get into this.
I scrounge in the pocket of my dress, find my ring, and slip it back on my finger so I don’t have to divide my attention between Harpoc and corralling my magic.
The chirp of multiple crickets or similar creatures serenade as I follow and sit down beside him on the overlarge, white sectional, soaking in the warmth of the fire. I didn’t realize how chilly the night air has gotten.
As if reading my mind, Harpoc stretches and grabs the throw that’s over one of the brown cushions at the end and opens it as I turn my back toward him. It’s softness soon cuddles my bare shoulders while the subtle citrus with a hint of cloves—his distinct, wholly masculine smell—fills my nose.
Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.
I’m surprised when my inner minion makes no reply.
I shed my sandals and lean back into the cushion, nesting my legs beneath me, trying to be as ladylike as possible. I can’t remember the last time I wore a dress.
He stretches an arm arou
nd my shoulders as we gaze into the dancing flames for several minutes, neither of us saying a word, and I take the opportunity to burn the scene into my memory.
At length, I glance up at the night sky, drawing Harpoc’s attention. “That’s right. There’s….” I can only point.
He smiles.
The three silver moons hang in the dark sky, and it feels magical against the curtain of shimmering stars.
“You said you love stargazing, away from the city lights when the moon is new.”
A sexy rumble erupts from his chest. “I do. I couldn’t very well tell you there are three moons though, could I?”
I bite my lip. He knows me too well.
We haven’t finished our earlier conversation, so I pick it back up. “How did you discover there was a leak?”
“Aura. Do you remember I told you she’s a shadow being?”
I bob my head. “You said she’s everywhere at the same time, although I’ve no idea how that even works.”
Harpoc chuckles. “Stay here long enough and you learn not to question.”
I laugh at that. I bet. I tried “going with the flow” just days ago and look where it got me.
“Aura alerted me to the fact that my client had been imprisoned.”
“Your client?”
“I hid the secret of a wealthy….” His eyes dart to mine, then back.
I frown. What’s he hiding? “A wealthy….”
“Serial killer—” He says it in little more than a whisper, clearly anticipating my reaction.
He’s right to cower because I straighten. “Did… did you say serial killer?” My eyes go wide with disbelief.
It isn’t the kind of political double standard that usually drives me nuts, but come on, protecting a murderer?
My heart’s racing. “You hid a guy who kills people?” I’m practically shrieking.
Harpoc’s irritatingly calm. “Yes, I sealed his location at any given time.”
“So no one can track him down.” I’m fuming, sitting ramrod straight. “You said sealing secrets prevents chaos. How in… any world, does protecting a murderer prevent chaos?”
“This… gentleman…”—I roll my eyes—“… fancies himself a vigilante of sorts. He kills child rapists.”
My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Words fail me. I’ve got nothing. He kills child rapists.
Harpoc watches me as I take several deep breaths and let them out slowly, attempting to formulate a sentence. After a full minute, I finally say, “So you helped this guy who takes the law into his own hands?”
“He doesn’t act capriciously. He double and triple checks before acting.”
I scoff. “You make him sound like a regular public servant.”
He doesn’t react.
“Harpoc… how can you…?”
He exhales heavily. “It doesn’t matter what I think, secret magic gives me no choice, Pell. It’s who I am.” He balls his hands in his lap.
I can only stare at him, my brain trying to absorb his words.
The horribleness of the incident with secret magic choking Nuria earlier, as well as it pummeling me against that ceiling, bolt to the forefront of my mind, along with disbelief.
He has no choice? None?
How can that be?
“If you tried…?”
He shakes his head, “No, Pell.”
His gaze hasn’t shifted. He means every word.
The gravity of the situation hits me. No, it smacks me upside the head with a two-by-four and doesn’t look back.
“This… this is why you sometimes hate it.”
He nods.
“You’re bound to a magic that has a will of its own.”
“That’s right.” His voice is low, any fight gone out of him.
He’s a slave of sorts.
A god is a slave.
How’s that even possible? Gods are supposed to be all powerful, yet… yet, he’s… not.
He’s a slave to sealing secrets no matter what he thinks about a particular one. My heart hurts for him.
It isn’t the same as addictions to drugs, alcohol, gambling, eating, work, even the internet. People make choices that lead to that kind of enslavement. But he’s saying he’s never had a choice.
“Do you ever disapprove of the secret you’re supposed to seal?”
His shoulders slump, and he gives a half-hearted shrug.
Answer enough. He’s resigned.
He looks up with pleading eyes. “I’ve never shared this with anyone.”
Somehow it doesn’t surprise me, as private as he is. But the fact that he feels comfortable confiding in me… yes, in me. I almost can’t comprehend it. Why?
Does it matter, Pell?
Perhaps, perhaps not. But no one’s ever confided something of this magnitude, in me.
I draw a hand to my chest. “I’m honored that you told me.”
I’d hoped to ally myself to a “friendly” to get Harpoc to crush the double standard. But I suddenly realize, it doesn’t matter what Idris or Nuria, or anyone else thinks, my beef is with secret magic. Magic that’s in me.
And Harpoc is a pawn.
Chapter Sixteen
I bite my lip, wondering whether, after that heart-wrenching confession, I should probe further about the leaks, because Harpoc’s still stiff, and I don’t want to cause him more pain.
But I don’t yet have a good grasp of the situation, and if I really am going to help solve these leaks, like I promised, I need to.
The music for Jeopardy starts playing in my head as my thoughts war.
You’re not helping, I yell at my inner minion, but the music plays on.
Screw it. Harpoc said the same thing a day ago, and I’m of a similar mind.
I scooch over until our thighs touch, then cover one of his fisted hands with mine. “Harpoc, paint the full picture so I can help you.”
My inquiry jars him from his melancholy, and he draws an arm around me and pulls me close, but he doesn’t speak, even after a minute, just keeps looking into the flames.
So I dive in. “Aura discovered that Glass infiltrated Secrets. They made it almost all the way here, to the castle, before they were discovered, but they left no clues concerning what they were after. The leaks started shortly after that.”
I check his face, but get no reaction, yay or nay, so I press on.
“The first leak Aura discovered was some child-rapist serial killer being jailed, which should have been impossible because the secret he sealed was his whereabouts at any given time.”
He nods.
Progress. Maybe he’ll reengage if I keep going.
I run a hand over the soft fabric covering his thigh. “The rats attacked when a bribe that had been sealed, leaked. It’s resulted in the deaths of two dozen troops along with seven gryphon if I remember right from the Core meeting.”
“More,” he interjects, and I cheer inwardly despite his sour face. “We’ve lost another ten troops in ongoing skirmishes here, and that’s not counting losses in all of the other places the rats attacked.”
I bob my head, as I shift a leg that’s falling asleep beneath me. “And there’s an arsonist on the loose that you suspect is acting out as a result of another leak.”
“That’s right.”
His arms are loosening, and I take it as a good sign as I gaze into the flames. “How do you know the arsonist isn’t just a random attack? Why do you think it’s a leaked secret, other than ‘Aura sensing it’ but you didn’t?”
Harpoc starts circling a thumb on my shoulder.
Good, he’s reengaging, although with the throw that’s relatively thin, I feel every movement. I don’t know if he’s trying to divert my attention, but it just might work.
“I mentioned earlier that, from time to time, other secrets have leaked.” He’s still staring into the flames.
“Yes.”
His thumb is very distracting and those fairies in my stomach launch.
&nbs
p; “In those cases, just like when you released the secrets you did, my magic was triggered and a smell similar to the stench of rotting eggs overwhelmed my senses.”
I look over at him. “Is that the same stench of secret magic that you complained I reeked of.” I frown.
He smiles, meeting my gaze as his digit continues circling. “The very one.”
“Sounds lovely.” Sarcasm fills my tone. “So secret magic really does stink.” I snicker.
“This is off-topic, but have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?” His expression takes on a mix of adoration as well as seriousness and the fairies in my stomach take flight. “I love making your emerald eyes sparkle.”
I want to dismiss the compliment that’s so earnest it’s making me uneasy, but he’s serious. I shift. “Thank you?”
A corner of his mouth hitches as he looks back into the flames.
I exhale.
“Other than the stench, the leaked magic also creates a trace of sorts. It’s what I used to track you. But with these newly leaked secrets, there’s no stench, nor trace magic to follow, so it’s impossible to identify the source.”
“Hence, why you discover a leak only when Aura senses it or after someone complains.”
“That’s right. And if word of these leaks gets out…” He sighs. He doesn’t have to finish the sentence.
My full stomach twists.
Harpoc’s inextricably tied to secret magic, and despite my dislike of it, I don’t want to see him get hurt. “Is there nothing you can do to—”
“Hide the leaks?”
“Yes.” My mouth goes dry as his thumb continues circling.
“When we discover one, I go and seal it, adding another secret to the source’s account.”
I furrow my brow, despite my raging hormones. “Those… those whose secrets have been leaked will agree to that?”
He smiles. “I can be very persuasive.”
I snort. Right, just like I was just “a wee bit worried” when facing the sphinx and Zephyr.
Speaking of which…
Another question has been bugging me that needs an answer, but with his damn digit circling, endorphins make me blurt it out. “If my ring blocks secret magic, why was I able to release the sphinx, Zephyr, and Midas?”