Andrei

It had been a few days since the Sinclairs left for their bonding trip to the lair, but we expected them to be gone for a week, at least. Sebastian still hadn't returned, and there were now eight of us, plus one wolf, living together at the base.

Evelyn made herself easily at home, fitting in with each and every occupant seamlessly. With Finlay, they spoke primarily about Sinclair. He shared stories from their childhood, tales of their most interesting cases, and together they laughed, and through this interaction, I witnessed a mother fall newly in love with her daughter.

Further, Evelyn was immediately charmed by Adeline, and with Michael and Peter's input, they all five formulated a plan to restore the base to its something of its former glory. Everleigh, on the periphery, as always, took enough interest in the group activity to offer assistance in running to and from the city when supplies were needed.

That afternoon, while everyone buzzed about the base—dusting, scrubbing, and so forth—I sat with Teeth and Alexander at the bar.

Teeth and I had become fast friends, and according to Alexander, she had developed a fondness for me over everyone, even him. And so, with his blessing, I'd earned myself a pair of faithful eyes, and a loyal companion.

"This is nice," Alexander said.

Everyone together again, for the most part. Everyone on good terms with one another, carrying positive, forward-thinking attitudes. It was nice, indeed.

"I apologize for the rather abrupt question, Alexander, but how do you sustain yourself?"

I'd once posed the question to Sinclair, who said she didn't know. Not because she hadn't wondered, but because she'd kept forgetting to ask.

"Orphaned boys," Alexander replied.

"Wh—"

"I'm kidding, Andrei. Though it would stand to reason, given my history. No, certain among us have developed a means of absorbing very little life-force from very many. Ivana ran a virtual buffet in the Widow's Peak. I frequent populated areas—The Jaskar, the city itself."

"Why doesn't every Anima do this?"

"Because the payoff is minimal. We feed on the very essence of what makes a person—not just alive, but their core being. Their emotions. Their personality. Their memories. Think of seeing a single brush stroke from several unfinished paintings versus feasting ones eyes upon a completed work, if you understand."

We all know I wouldn't be feasting my eyes upon anything, but yes, I understood. "Those studying your kind at the lair seemed to think that your powers are tied to your consumption."

"Precisely, and most of our kind desire to be the most powerful of our kind. Death reaps the greatest reward. Full absorption."

I thought of Everleigh Gloom. By all accounts, the most powerful Anima we'd encountered outside the brothers, and she hadn't had centuries of practice.

"Everleigh," I called over.

"What."

"How do you sustain yourself?"

The room fell silent—no more clinking, scrubbing, or shuffling.

"Orphaned boys," she replied.

Alexander chuckled. The room remained silent otherwise.

"You had best be joking, Everleigh Gloom," Adeline said.

"Obviously."

"So," I pressed. "How then?"

"Three guesses."

Those less interested in the conversation resumed their chores—clinking, scrubbing, shuffling. Evelyn, Finlay, and Michael by the sounds of things.

"Naughty patrons at the Goose and the Gander," Adeline suggested. "You were secretly working with Vera all this time, and the belts were a decoy!"

"No."

I recalled what I knew of Everleigh Gloom: a threnodist, a bard who'd built her career upon playing songs of mourning to memorialize those who'd passed. A young woman who'd spent much of her life knowing she was dying, teetering the line between the living and the dead—embracing both. And then, in her final hour, she'd been given—

"You are a mercy killer," I said.

The room fell silent once more.

"Good job, Broody Lad."

"Well, that's not so bad," Adeline said.

"It's quite nice, actually," Evelyn added. "My mum and dad suffered so much at the end."

"Aye," Ever replied.

And it was then we learned about Everleigh Gloom's sacred ritual, that each who passed by her hand were gifted a unique musical composition inspired by their fondest memories, their biggest dreams, their happiest feelings. With each note she played, she sent them away with the light, absorbing their life-force, but still, in a way, leaving them with their lives.

Adeline and Evelyn—and Michael?—sniffled.

"That's really beautiful," Adeline said.

"How much to secure your services for my deathbed?" Finlay asked.

"I'm really expensive."

Evelyn laughed, bright and sincere.

Alexander's heat signature pulsed—warmer, stronger.

So, Alexander still carried a torch for Evelyn. None of my business and nothing to worry about, surely. With that, I excused myself for a nap.

I wasn't feeling particularly sleepy, but I needed some time to mentally recover from the chaos. I'd grown used to the crowds and near non-stop activity somewhat while at the lair, but the space was more limited at the base, and many here were still in the first phases of getting to know one another. The levels of enthusiasm were high, and with the renovations, well—

Sitting down on the end of the bed, Teeth laid her head against my knee, and I scratched her between the ears. We remained like this for a time.

It couldn't have been more than five minutes before the knock.

I breathed in deeply through my nose. "Come in."

The door opened and closed, and the scent of wet dirt and roses wafted forward.

"Hi," Everleigh said.

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Well, I wanted quiet and mellow, and Everleigh Gloom was certainly that.

"What can I do for you, Everleigh?"

"I'm worried about Sebastian."

I'd been concerned as well, so I nodded.

"I don't feel him," Ever continued.

"Could he have left the territory?"

"I guess. But why. If I could feel him here, he could feel me here, and he wouldn't come all the way to Amalia and leave without saying hello. That'd be rude. Sebastian isn't rude."

"No, I don't suppose he is. Well, what do you propose we do? How can we help?"

"I want you to come with me."

A light breeze, and the clip, clop of Everleigh's shoes against the stone.

"Where?"

"To the theatre."

"Which theatre?"

"North of Verena. I found it yesterday when I was out searching every corner of Amalia for my father. Someone's been staying there, and if it's not Sebastian, it's Zacharias. And he might know what happened to Sebastian."

"I'm not traveling by foot to the opposite end of Amalia."

The Strachan stopped in front of me.

"I'll carry you," she said.

"Absolutely not. And why must I go?"

"Because you have a way with words, Broody Lad. And you're powerful, I guess."

"Then ask Alexander. You've reconciled, haven't you?"

The bed beneath me barely moved when Everleigh sat beside me. "Alexander won't leave Evelyn."

I sighed. "And you're going to carry me that whole way?"

"How do you think I kidnapped you. I'm as strong as you are, you know."

"I simply—I mean, I'm quite tall."

"Look, I make it work."

"Could you at least put me to sleep so I don't have to endure the shame?"

"What, the shame of being carried by a girl?"

"No, the shame of being toted like a baby."

"Would it make you feel better if I let you tote me like a baby for a while."

"Not in the slightest."

This time, Everleigh sighed.

Frankly, I was intrigued. An old theatre? I was keen on exploring it, especially as I'd missed my chance to visit the old schoolhouse. Besides, what more did I have to do at the moment? I wasn't much help where the restoration of the base was concerned, and Sinclair wouldn't be expected back for some time. And, if we did encounter Zacharias or Sebastian, I had plenty of questions for the both of them.

Therefore, in the end, I was toted.

And I shall never speak of it again.

When I woke up, I was standing upright with Everleigh's assistance, and we'd arrived at the theatre. The wind curled and whipped around either side of the ancient structure, giving me an idea of its size as we approached. It was a theatre, so naturally, I'd already expected it to be large. In silence, we moved toward the entrance. Everleigh insisted there was no point in being stealthy; if Sebastian or Zacharias were present, they would feel us coming. If there were other Anima, better to face them head on, she said.

I recalled the air blades story, and I was moderately relieved of worry.

When we reached the doors, Everleigh held one open for me.

She described the scene; rotted, grime-covered wood, spiderwebs draped across every corner and to each piece of decrepit furniture. The ticket counters had collapsed in on themselves. It smelled damp and putrid.

There was nothing about the old theatre that screamed recently lived-in.

Except—

Everleigh took my hand and led me into a smaller room.

"The candles look new, and they've been burned recently," she said. "I also found this—" the Strachan let go of my hand, shuffled off, but returned in short order. She pressed something into my palm. I couldn't tell what it was, so I sniffed it. Tobacco.

Not something one could easily acquire in Amalia. It would have to be imported from Delphia through Palisade, and that simply wasn't a priority for the Assembly.

"I think Rhydian was here," Ever said.

"And so by extension, his daughter."

"Aye. I didn't want to worry you or the others, so I didn't tell you."

"We shouldn't worry yet anyway," I said. "You said we're north of Verena, and that's not far from where they would have been meeting the Navigator. Perhaps they stumbled upon the place and made camp for the night."

"I guess." There was a shrug in her tone.

"Still, if we've any hope of finally speaking with Zacharias, I believe you may be on to something as far as a prime location, Everleigh. Someone had to bring the candles."

"Aye—" Everleigh's voice hitched, and then a long pause. "Wait—who the hell are you?"

Who the hell was who? I turned my head around the room, focusing until—faint, but there it was. A pulse of body heat, a block of airflow. Someone was standing in the doorway.

"Andrei, Son of Andreas," he said. "I've missed you so much."

Footsteps, barely audible as Jakob approached.

"Jakob," I said. "I've missed you, too. I'm glad you're all right. Is this where you've been?"

"Here and there," Jakob said. "Who's this?"

"I'm Ever."

"Evermore, forevermore, happily ever after."

"Okay."

"Jakob, have you been alone this whole time?"

"No. He'll be back soon, though."

"Who?" I asked.

"My father."

There was a time not long ago, when none of us had parents to worry about, and life was a little less complicated. "Who's your father, Jakob?"

"Zacharias Vonsinfonie."

"And how exactly is he your father?"

Was it in the way Sebastian was a father to Everleigh? Or—

"He and my mother loved each other once, Asa. And from them, I was born."

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