Feargus

The reason I left Strauss in Istok was so I could get a head start on Leberecht. My permissions gave me special clearance from Faust, meaning I was allowed to enter the city and wander around at night and in the early morning, unlike the other guests who were only allowed to be out during the day. Visitors were rare mind you, but those were the rules.

At the time, I only knew there were Anima living among the Barren folk and Partisans, and that they were the 'well-behaved' ones. Interestingly, when Faust was giving me the rundown on Leberecht, she'd waited until Alexander was busy elsewhere. So, when interviewing him for this very book, I asked him about that. He says he didn't know what was going on, not really, only that the mountain city was seen by the outside Anima as a place to avoid, though the reasons for that were a little muddy.

♪ True. Why do you think I didn't follow you. ♪

With a salute and a promise to have never seen me, the Iron Hand at the gate let me through. I knew generally what to expect: a strange city in a hollowed out mountain with ramps running around the perimeter. Faust educated me on the lifts and that they were safe. "Accident free for over two centuries," she said. "The city's engineer is remarkable."

Engineer—singular, and over two centuries accident free. Interesting.

The Anima who were out that night went about their business without much care as to who I was or why I was there. They didn't seem to have much care at all; they all had the same vacant look and relaxed smile. Well-behaved was putting it lightly. But for my tour, I reckoned I'd start on the bottom tier and work my way up. Following that, I hoped to meet with the Captain of the Iron Hand first thing in the morning, which just so happened to be Michael Reider's sister, Marta.

I was looking forward to that. We liked Michael.

The bottom tier was the most interesting tier, in my opinion. There seemed to be a festival happening. People danced without music, others juggled colourful pegs, another one circled the ramp on what looked to be a giant wheel with a seat. He propelled himself forward and backward by turning his legs one way or the other. They all wore bright colours and seemed in excellent moods. Even in Delphia, where there were festivals like those all the time, at least some people still looked miserable.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Hi there," said a voice, and I wondered if the person it belonged to was as beautiful as she sounded. I spun around.

The Amali woman was tall, slender, and kept her pitch black hair in a fancy up-do. She wore an apron over an elegant pair of slacks shapely blouse. A pair of goggles rested just above her forehead, and when she smiled, I nearly forgot all eighty of my names.

She held her hand out. "I'm Avis."

I gave the lady a fair shake, and then I went back in time to the year before my voice settled. It cracked when I answered, "Jack Finnegan."

"Well, Jack," she still hadn't stopped smiling, "welcome to our city. What say you come inside for a snack and some gossip?"

She gestured to the door above which there was a sign: THE STUDIO

I was well ahead of schedule, and she even knew I liked snacks and gossip, which would have made me suspicious if I'd been capable of feeling any other way than completely at ease.

We all know now Avis Adler was a talented empath, but counter-empathy didn't exist in our curriculum the same way counter-telepathy did. Most Endican Partisans were pacifists, and when they defected, they tended to do so quietly. We weren't often facing off in emotional battles, so it wasn't a priority. In recent years, with the uprising over in Endica proper, that was changing.

What's important is: my defenses against empathy weren't any good. Frankly, I'm not even sure my defenses against telepathy were any good when up against Avis Adler and her mates. But if she was trying to read my mind at the time, I didn't sense it.

"I'd love a snack and a natter," I said.

Avis brought her hands together and gestured me through the door.

When it closed behind us, there were a total of three clicks, and no discernible locks on the inside. As I was saying, I'd have been concerned if I could feel anything other than blissful ignorance. I'd have probably never gone inside. Aye, probably not. Though she was very pretty. Sorry, Zack. I didn't know she was your wife at the time.

The Studio goes down as one of the most incredible places I'd ever seen. It was built in tiers, just like the city, with ramps wrapped around the inside. There were dozens of doors leading to who knew where, and there were loads of bookshelves, too—top to bottom and filled with thousands of similar-looking books.

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"What do you think?" Avis asked.

"I've never seen anything like it," I answered. "Sure are a lot of books, though."

"One amasses quite a number of stories over a thousand years, darling."

All right, so she wasn't even pretending to be Barren. With her hand on my upper back, she led me into another room across the way. We know it now as the salon. We love the salon. There, we were met by two other ladies: one was even taller than Avis and had shorter hair, and the other was small as a Strachan but definitely Amali. Cute as a button, that one. A spherical contraption of some sort floated above her open palm, occasionally spinning.

The tall one left to get the snacks. A quill trailed behind her.

"Jack, that was Matilda," Avis said. "And this is Delilah."

"Yeah, I'm Delilah," the one with the contraption echoed.

As we made our way over to the couches, it was impossible not to see it. The portrait hanging over the fireplace. Which, unlike all the other fireplaces in Leberecht you've heard about in other people's stories, actually appeared to be functional. Anyhow—the portrait was of a dapper young man with porcelain skin and snow white hair. His grey eyes glittered and his smile dazzled right off the canvas. He was wearing a blue suit, and would you look at that? It was Vincent Delestade.

"Say, you two know Vincent, too?" I asked as we were seated.

Avis seemed uncertain. "Do we know a Vincent, Delilah?"

"Not for many years," Delilah answered.

I gestured to the portrait. "That's not Vincent?"

The pair shared a glance.

"That's Sebastian," Avis answered.

The longer I stared at the portrait of my good friend Vincent Delestade, the more I saw the resemblance. Zacharias was stronger in the jaw, had an entirely different complexion, and was surlier looking. But their eyes and nose were the same shape, and they shared the same chin. And the suit—aye, I mean, if that wasn't obvious enough.

"Sebastian Vonsinfonie?" I asked.

"Of course! Who else?"

Well, she had said she'd been alive for a thousand years. "Were you fans of theirs back in the day?"

Avis laughed. Delilah's contraption spun around a few times fast.

"Zacharias is my husband," Avis explained.

"No joke?"

She shook her head. "But why did you think Bastian was someone called Vincent?"

"Well."

Avis blinked her big doe eyes. Even if I'd wanted to lie, I couldn't have. But for once, I didn't want to lie. There was nothing about the way I was feeling that was short of relaxed and at peace. Nothing that told me I ought not to answer the woman's questions.

"Chap looks startlingly like someone I know."

Delilah watched Avis closely from the corner of her eye.

"Where do you know him from?" Avis asked.

"Delphia; we worked together once."

Avis lifted her hand to her chest as if trying to catch the quick breath she took. "Are you sure? Why would he be so careless?"

"What do you mean?"

"He should be glamoured."

"Well, I think he is, but my partner and I are crafty about seeing through glamour," I said, as I was being expertly glamoured. What a disaster. But it's fine—everything was fine. Avis seemed relieved with my answer, though I did clock a pair of creases: between her eyes, and on her otherwise wrinkle-free forehead.

"As to the real reason you're here, Mister... Finnegan," Avis said. "I've asked Zelda to arrange an official search for Zacharias. She said she'd send her best. We'd look for him ourselves, but we can't bear the thought of abandoning paradise to step in a cesspool, can we?" The two other women nodded. "So, I'm asking you to find him and tell him to come home."

"Funny enough, I was planning on finding Zacharias, anyhow," I said. WHY?

Running my hand over my beard, I caught Delilah staring at me, and she looked away with rosy cheeks. I tossed her a quick wink before turning back to Avis.

"That's really it for business, darling," she said. "I have no leads and you're on your own."

That was a fun combination of words.

Avis stood from the couch. "The snacks should be along shortly, although—I wonder what's taking Matilda so long. I'll be back in a moment."

Once she'd shimmied out of the salon, Delilah and I sat a minute in silence, all the while it looked like she had something to say. I smiled the way I usually do that tends to open people up, but she just blushed again. After around a minute of that, I was about to strike up a converation about her spherical device, but she rushed to my side instead.

"You have to find them both."

"The brothers?" I clarified.

She nodded a half dozen times.

"Why?" I asked.

But there wasn't time for much else but a desperate, "Please."

Delilah hurried back to her seat before Matilda and Avis rounded the corner into the salon. The shiny platter they brought with them was filled with cookies, overflowing with chocolate and nuts. And for a while, they all watched while I snacked, which again, would have been weird if I'd had the capacity for unease. I tried asking them questions about the Vonsinfonie brothers, like, who made their suits (their mother) and how did they really feel about Sebastian's Law? (It was complicated.) But it seemed for every question I asked, another twitch triggered under Avis's right eye. Matilda and Delilah flashed me a stern look.

"Would it be all right if I asked a few questions about the Anima?"

They all three nodded.

"Well, I think I'm being followed by one. In fact, they could be here, right now, as we speak."

"They're not," Matilda said.

I'd be relieved if I wasn't already at the maximum level. "But that's the problem, see. I can't spot them when they go invisible."

The three ladies looked to each other for a time, as if wordlessly deciding something. Eventually, Delilah's device spun around quickly when she stood. She put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. I smiled and she blushed again.

"Come with me," she said.

Aye, happy to.

And aye, I planned to.

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