Andrei

There was a part of me that was relieved. Yes, I was blind, lost, and alone in the forest, but I was alone. Not to say I hadn't enjoyed the company of my new friends at the lair, but I'd grown used to a certain solitude and there were things I was itching to ponder in silence. For instance, I'd lost the key to the keyhole in the mountain. Councilwoman Faust had threatened my life should I lose it, and not only had I lost it, but I couldn't be sure what had become of the Vonsinfonie book, either. Then again, it wasn't as though I could read it anymore. And that cursed melody. Had Zacharias found us and taken Jakob, or was Jakob capable of a similar effect?

As I crunched through the snow—in which direction?—I identified a feeling in my gut which, oddly enough under the circumstances, wasn't worry. I was well and truly excited to be going home. Now, if only I could find it. It wasn't long before I realized my folly, however. For every step I took, I risked traveling in the wrong direction. So, for the first hour or two, I rested against a tree, regaining my energy with a snack from my satchel. A banana and some mixed nuts, if you must know. Then, as the afternoon waned, I attuned to the heat and gentle hum radiating from the sky. Considering the position of the sun now dipping below the horizon, I was eventually able to discern the direction toward Oskari.

Night was approaching and there were dangers. Wolves, of course, though I'd come far enough in my training that I was certain I could fend off an attack. Worse than wolves, however, were the Anima. I was less confident in my odds against them, especially if they were to sneak up on me.

But the evening came and went while I walked slowly, steadily, and undisturbed just as I had done when I first arrived in Amalia all those months ago. It was the dead of night by the time I heard the screams. At first just the one, and then there were several, and then by the time I smelled the smoke, it was pandemonium. Death cries. The woosh of a sudden blaze, the crackling and popping of flames, and the scent of smoke now burning my nostrils and polluting my lungs. It wouldn't be wise to carry forth without knowing the scale and severity of what I would be walking into, but if Oskari was on fire, perhaps I could do something to help.

I trudged onward, but for every forward move I made, my mind grew foggier, and my limbs felt heavier. Every slow step taken was as if I were walking through deep, sticky mud and not snow. It had been a long journey, and I was tired. So tired. But if I could only make it a few… more… steps. I would see her soon.

A few more steps...

...and that was the last thing I remember before waking up in a cell.

I couldn't say for certain how much time had passed between being kidnapped and waking up on that cold, metal floor. But it must have been a substantial amount of time, because my body ached universally and it felt if I'd inhaled the entire desert territory of Seneca.

The only solace I took in this strange awakening was with whom I awakened.

"I don't know about you lot, but I feel rested," Feargus Finlay said, his voice strained. He was stretching. More than that, he was not dead. An enormous relief, though not entirely a surprise.

"I feel hungover." Adeline yawned loudly and yet spoke simultaneously. "And while I did take a shot of whiskey with Marta before bed, it was only a small one."

Marta Reider? It couldn't possibly be, could it?

"Where are we?" I asked.

"If you took your blindfold off, mate, you'd see for yourself we're in a cage," Finlay said.

"Believe me, you don't want me to remove the blindfold," I replied.

"Whyever not?" Adeline asked.

I propped myself up with my hand, feeling for the border of the cell. When I found it, it was cold and metallic—just like the floor, just like the walls in solitary confinement had been. Just like the ones in the cages at the lair had been. My palm would be itchy later, but no matter in the grand scheme. I leaned back against the wall.

"Because I have no eyes," I said.

"Whyever not?!" Adeline repeated.

"Aye, whyever not," Feargus whispered.

A set of hurried footsteps moved to my side. Adeline sat to my left, placing a hand on my arm. Finlay scooted across the floor to my right. I moved through the memories, recalling where I'd left off with my friends, and I recounted what happened at the church the day we were to meet Lidia for her party.

"I don't remember much after that," I said. "I lost consciousness and woke up briefly to the sound of what I believed to be Zacharias Vonsinfonie's cane, and then nothing until I woke up on an embark with Rhydian Sinclair."

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Silence except for the pitiful sniffles to my left, and then Adeline threw herself against me in what I supposed was a hug. I patted her back a few times gently.

"It's fine," I said. "I've adjusted."

"Mate," Finlay muttered. "That's heavy."

I shrugged. "I'm just relieved the both of you are well. And Sinclair, is she—?"

"She's all right," Finlay answered.

Adeline squeaked a high-pitched, non-committal squeak.

I didn't like the sound of that whatsoever, but knowing Sinclair was alive was enough to ease my mind for the time being. I suspected we would have plenty of time for specifics under lock and key.

"How did you both end up here?" I asked.

Finlay answered first. "I was with Rhian at Alexander's house when we were attacked by Those Things and what looked to be a Strachan Partisan in a frilly dress."

"Everleigh Gloom," Adeline interrupted, solemnly.

"This Everleigh Gloom attacked the estate?"

"Aye, mate," Feargus said. "She brewed a tornado inside, a lot like you did that one time at the Widow's Peak. Kidnapped me and put me to sleep. You know the rest."

"I know her from the brothel," Adeline added. "I thought we were friends, so when she came to my room at the Widow's Peak, I—well, she must be quite talented in the use of empathy because she put me to sleep as well."

I felt a pressure headache building in my forehead. "Brothel?"

"Yes, where I've been working as a bartender these past weeks."

The nonsensical conversation continued for a time, but ultimately I parsed: Helena Varis was discovered to be an Anima who may have been manipulating Michael's mind. She'd tried to reanimate him, so Alexander ended her, and Sinclair delivered Michael to someone called The Artist. While in Leberecht, Sinclair met Marta Reider, and they were at the time together in the village of Oskari, tending to hundreds of dead after a fire set by an angry mob of Anima. Meanwhile, Adeline had taken a job at a brothel on a mission from Feargus Finlay where she solved a murder, befriended the murderer, and became acquainted with our captor.

My heart ached at the fate of Oskari.

"Is that everything?" I asked.

"Oh! And Ivana was one of the Anima," Adeline added.

And that's when I learned the story of Ivana Novak, and the truth as to why she hated Michael Reider. She'd always been pleasant enough to me, all things considered, but according to Adeline, Ivana had been making an effort to combat her compulsions and to break the pattern. She believed that Michael, as an alpha-type, triggered her in ways I didn't.

"Do we know why this Everleigh Gloom seems to be collecting Partisans?" I asked.

"No, but I do know something interesting, Father Strauss."

"Andrei," I said.

"You've renounced the title? How delightfully rebellious of you!"

A chuckle from Feargus Finlay.

After a moment, Adeline continued, "So—here's the gossip: Everleigh Gloom isn't a Partisan."

"But her eyes?" Feargus wondered.

"She was born with the eyes but without any of our perks," Adeline explained. "When the Assembly discovered she was as impotent as any Barren, they branded her and sent her back to Hollyhock where she was injured terribly in the orphanage fire."

"All right," Finlay replied. "I can see why she might have a bone to pick."

"So, that's a cute theory." The voice that came from a short distance away was without any doubt Strachan, but it was devoid of the melodic lilt more commonly heard among our southeastern friends. Flat and without feeling.

A breeze when Adeline stood and dashed toward the voice. A clanking of metal bars. "Everleigh Gloom! You have a lot of explaining to do."

"I guess," the Strachan replied. "Later, maybe. I just wanted to see if you were all awake. For now, I'm off to spy on your mouthy friend. She's interesting. It's too bad I couldn't collect her."

"Why couldn't you?" Feargus asked, but there was something unusual in his tone—irritation? "We were both vulnerable, weren't we?"

"Aye, but she's Alexander's."

What did she mean by that? I felt a pang of jealousy, but it was short-lived. Rhydian Sinclair had told me Alexander was dead, and to learn he was alive was a relief.

"We all have a favourite mortal or two," Everleigh Gloom explained, as if on cue. "Rhian's his. Abby Blaze is mine. You don't touch another Anima's mortal. It's rude."

Abby Blaze?

Adeline squeaked.

Feargus Finlay remained silent.

"What do you want with us?" I asked. "It's obviously not to kill us, otherwise we would be dead, so what is it?"

"Later, maybe," Everleigh Gloom replied. "Like I said, I've got some spying to do."

A tiny grunt of frustration from Adeline. More silence from Feargus Finlay.

It promised to be a long day, but at least we were together.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.