Andrei & Rhian

In the end, the Vonsinfonie Brothers helped Avis Adler remember who she was, all the same our stories helped them remember who they were. But true reparations wouldn't happen overnight. Where Jakob was concerned, this was especially true. While Avis was never able to erase the memory of her son in the telepathic sense, in an effort to numb the pain of what she couldn't help herself from doing to him, she'd had her feelings for him severed.

By the time the experiment was successful enough to have worked on her son, she had forgotten about him—like an old sock at the back of a drawer—no sentiment, no connection.

Jakob confided in me that while there was a part of him that did still love his mother and was eager to move forward with the real her again, a more certain part of him wasn't ready yet. But he and Zacharias had been quietly working on their relationship, and Jakob ultimately decided to stay with his parents in Leberecht, at The Studio, in a room without a lock.

Avis Adler agreed to end the experiment, much to the relief of her colleagues who were excited to move on to new and less morally corrupt projects. As such, Michael Reider was returned his storybook, which he did read, and once again, it was like nothing had changed even though everything had. As for the citizens of Leberecht, with the end of the experiment came a quandary: returning everyone's stories all at once, including those of the Anima, would be risky if done carelessly. With that, Maryse and Markus sparked a bond with a common goal—to help the people of Leberecht recover their memories and feelings properly and safely. Bells was eager to put his messenger skills to use where returning the books was concerned.

Zacharias Vonsinfonie gave us his word that if there were any issues with the Anima who were returned their stories, he wouldn't repeat his past mistakes.

We believed him.

As for Maryse, we learned the reason for her interest in studying the Anima and her real motivation for coming to Amalia was a lot more complicated than we had thought, though not nefarious. Maryse's parents were both Partisans, once sent to Amalia as we were. Through one of the Anima prisoners she worked with at the lair, she learned her father had been killed, but that her mother had been reanimated. We eventually learned mother had been on Everleigh's concert guest list, but whether or not she'd attended remained a mystery for a time.

Everleigh and Riz were still somewhere at sea.

It was the end of our third day in Leberecht, and in the midst of reconciliation and planning for what would come next, we enjoyed the festivities of the foretold return. That evening, everyone was outside on the ramps watching Zacharias play. I was in the conservatory at the piano.

Three knocks at the door, though the door was open.

I paused when the footsteps approached.

"You've chosen a rather impractical instrument, Andrei Strauss." Sebastian plucked a few playful notes on the piano. "Are you certain I can't give you violin lessons?"

"I wouldn't say no. Have you put any thought into your plans?"

"Your plans are my plans. I promised you all I'd help you on your quest and I meant it. As you know, Zacharias will be staying home, but whatever we need, we should only have to ask."

"I'm not even sure where we should start, frankly."

"Wherever we end up, know your unconventional problem solving in this matter has earned you three new powerful allies."

"What can we expect from them?"

"Well, Avis is improving by the day. Delilah and Matilda have always been lovely, and trust when I say: there's more to the Tinkerer than meets the eye, my friend. A formidable, formidable foe for the Six. Well done."

"Avis implied you were in trouble with the Six," I said.

"I've broken their pact by traveling to Amalia, haven't I? But unless anyone tells them, how will they know? I, for one, don't intend to."

Councilwoman Faust had told us it was rare for the Six to leave Palisade, that in over eight hundred years, they'd only done so a handful of times. Otherwise, the information she'd given us about the Six had been sparse. Feargus Finlay promised we would hear from her again, personally, or through him, and that handling the situation in Leberecht was only the first step. We had no way of knowing what she'd ask of us next. Or what we would do when she did.

But for the time being, while we were in our little world full of love, free of fear, and empty of regret, I had something to ask of Sebastian.

And as always, he was more than happy to help.

Avis Adler hadn't been cured overnight, still neurotic, still feeling guilty, but overall she was quite a sweet lady, told excellent stories, and braided my hair in more interesting ways than I'd ever done. She complimented me on my art in the storybooks, and asked if I'd be interested in working with her sometime.

I told her that it'd very much depend on her definition of work. She laughed and looked a bit embarrassed, and I could see why the brothers loved her so much.

Adeline had a fair bit of experience in dealing with a difficult mother, and at least Avis wasn't also a bitch. Point is: the two got on like a house on fire, and for once, there wasn't an actual house on fire. To be fair, it might've been easier to blow up the mountain, but what can I say? We were evolving.

Anyhow. We were about five days into our stay in the city, and we gathered in the salon: Adeline, Gus, Michael and all of his memories, Bells, Markus, and even Maryse were all there. Even if Avis and Jakob were on opposite sides of the room, they were at least together, and Jakob played the cello for us all.

The brothers stood side by side, both in white.

It was last minute, and it was highly illegal, but, once in a lifetime, right?

Strauss wore one of Zacharias's more subdued blue suits, and I wore one of Avis's less frilly blue dresses.

"First of all, I'd like to start by saying: you're welcome. We're all here this evening because of me," Sebastian said. "And while, yes, that's actually technically true, what I mean to say is, when Andrei and Rhian came to see me that day in Delphia, I didn't expect one of them to be carrying a book I'd long thought lost. I recall asking Andrei to see it, and with but a hint of hesitation from the object of her affection, Rhian Sinclair covered for him flawlessly. I didn't press, but I knew the road they were set on, and I knew they would walk it better than anyone, because they would walk it together. That day, I gave them a taste of a world in which they were free to love and be loved, a taste of the world I promised you all and failed to deliver, and now…"

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Zacharias picked up where his brother left off.

"Rhian Sinclair, the one who awakened me from my slumber. Not for a compulsion to steal, but for an uncanny ability to see the answer to questions that haven't yet been asked. The one who holds the mirror to herself as quickly as to anyone else. The one who lives every moment for the good, the bad, and the absurd, and welcomes them equally."

Look, let me just say, of all the things I'd never imagined myself doing, that exact moment would've been on the top of that list. I was hot, and it was awkward, and there were too many folk staring at me, even if they were folk I loved. But then, what the fuck did any of that matter? I looked up to Strauss and smiled.

Of all the things…

I felt her turn to me, and instinctively, I smiled.

"And Andrei Strauss, what a way you've come," Zacharias continued. "Born to a life of others telling you what you are: a mistake. What you'd become: a prisoner. And what you would always be: a monster. And yet, you've transformed your anger into empathy and a steady, persistent patience. You see beauty in the broken, the quiet truths beneath the tragedy."

Sinclair squeezed my hand, and from the audience, Adeline squeaked.

"So, before Zacharias and I go on to indulge you—or ourselves—any further with speeches," Sebastian resumed, "is there anything either of you would like to say to one another?"

Nothing that hadn't already been said, but something was enough.

She was the one who had always seen me.

"I love you, Andrei."

"I love you, too, Rhian."

Around my finger, Sinclair slipped the amethyst ring—originally Zacharias'. And around hers, the emerald ring—Sebastian's, both modified by the Tinkerer to fit in size and style.

"Well, would you look at that," Sebastian said. "And so, by the power vested in ourselves, by ourselves, considering we're essentially god, I, Sebastian Vonsinfonie, and—"

"—I, Zacharias Vonsinfonie—"

"Pronounce you wed."

After sealing the deal with a kiss and a quick trip to the bedroom, a few of us exploded out of The Studio for a night on the town. Curfew had been lifted in light of the brothers' foretold return, and the ramps around Leberecht were buzzing with activity.

Now, I'd tell you I hadn't seen it coming, but I'd be lying through my teeth seeing as I called it when we first arrived: if Councilwoman Faust had been trying to keep Councilwoman Blanchett from Leberecht, news of the fireworks shooting from the top of the mountain might have made that a bit trickier.

While heading for a bite to eat at the Mount Inn, we wound up, and up, and up the ramp, all of us excited, some of us hungry, and it was too late.

They'd seen us and we'd seen them.

Sebastian rushed to stand with me. Zacharias with Strauss. Avis with Adeline.

All right: so, there was this moment that, despite whatever horseshite we had to figure was coming, was basically priceless. The moment where Councilwoman Adelaide Blanchett registered what was happening—that not only had she found us all alive, but we were all dressed up and on our way to dinner with the Vonsinfonie Brothers.

And her daughter was having fun.

And I was looking a bit pregnant.

And Strauss was wearing strange sunglasses at night.

Right. The list goes on and on, but the point is: she was not happy.

She took a step ahead of Faust. "Rhian Sinclair, Andrei Strauss, and Adeline Abigail Blanchett, you three have some pointless explaining to do. Because absolutely nothing you say will get you out of whatever this is."

Councilwoman Faust grimaced.

Sebastian stepped up and extended a hand. "Sebastian Vonsinfonie. And you are?"

Councilwoman Blanchett's face went a bit blotchy before she took the man's hand and shook it with apparent disinterest. "Councilwoman Adelaide Blanchett. What an interesting way to discover you're not dead."

"Living under your nose in Delphia for the past eight hundred and twenty-four? twenty-five? years. If it weren't for your and your predecessors' glorious inefficiency and general lack of awareness, you may have discovered the truth on a far less humiliating stage. Frankly, I'm shocked they never told you."

The Delphi took a breath through her nose, holding it in her chest a while. She then turned her attention to Zacharias. He tipped his cane.

To my right, Avis patted Adeline's hair, her big doe eyes taking it all in.

Councilwoman Blanchett spun around to face Faust. "Don't you have anything to say?"

I reckon we all saw it: the expression of a woman whose decades of hard work and careful planning had all come down to… sudden exposure due to whatever the hell we were doing. "Well, I'm obviously still in shock, Adelaide. The Vonsinfonies, and all the rumors of unlawful music? I—why—it's all just so…"

Bloody hell.

Seemed to have worked, though. Councilwoman Blanchett turned her ire on Adeline next. "And you, I've never been more disappointed, Adeline. I agreed to send you here for the practical experience, not so you could gallivant around a brothel of all places, be complicit in breaking one of the fundamental laws of Auditoria—"

Sebastian snorted.

"—and defect with this pair of heathens."

Look, I basically lived for being called a heathen. I hoped she'd do it again.

Adeline took a step forward, letting Avis's hand fall from her shoulder. She looked to her spitting image mother except for the stupid fur coat, her brows pressing inward.

"No, I know you didn't send me here to get practical experience," she said. "I know you sent me here to die with the others. And I don't want to hear anything else you have to say because nothing you have to say ever has any meaning. You're a selfish, petty, arrogant, and decidedly awful person. And Sebastian's right—you're a terrible Councilwoman. Everybody talks about it."

Councilwoman Faust looked around for an escape, probably.

And then it hit her—not Faust, but Councilwoman Blanchett's hand straight across Adeline's face. Her eyes filled with water, though I reckon the last thing she wanted to do was cry. Avis Adler pulled Adeline back into the safety of our group.

And then she took a step forward.

There were few people I'd ever encountered that were more put together or aesthetically pleasing than Councilwoman Blanchett. Avis Adler was one of them.

That had to piss her off.

"You're in my city now, darling, and you're being very rude," she said.

"I don't know who you are," Blanchett said.

"Who am I?" Avis took another step forward, and then she looked over her shoulder. She lingered on me, and on my belly. On Strauss. On Adeline. On her best friend and her husband. And finally, she looked to Faust who had aged about a thousand years in a minute. In the end, she cocked her head, smiled, and turned back to the Councilwoman.

"You have something on your face, my love. Let me get it for you."

And when Councilwoman Blanchett lifted a hand to her face to fix the problem herself, Avis Adler booped her on the nose the way only a person with super strength and powers of an elemental persuasion can boop. The force sent the Councilwoman backward against the railing with enough force to break through it.

It was a long way down.

And I can't remember if there were screams.

But there probably were.

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