“Lie for me.”
Lucan doesn’t have a chance to ask what I mean. The vicar looms at the base of the stairs, eyes wide with surprise, and then his brow furrows with anger. It’s not outright, not yet, but I have to play this carefully.
“Vicar Darius.” I stagger toward him. The hand I place on the wall for support isn’t just for show. “I need my father.”
“Excuse me?” His eyes dart between Lucan and me, then narrow. “What has occurred?”
“I was worried for her and—”
“When Lucan arrived, I already had broken out,” I interrupt and gesture toward the gate. I must give the vicar what he wants. Give a little to keep him pliable and working with me to get what I need—a way to get a tincture before this power tears me in two. “I drew on Etherlight.”
“Without a sigil?” the vicar breathes in what sounds like ominous anticipation. I don’t nod. Don’t affirm. Merely level my eyes and wait for him to draw his own conclusions.
“While the toll on my body was great, I now have a greater understanding of Etherlight. I think… I think I can help myfather create a new weapon. Greater than ever before.”Perhaps even better than Valor’s legendary sword, I don’t say but let him assume as I hold the vicar’s gaze, easing farther away from Lucan with each word. “My father can help me craft a sigil that will help me stabilize this power and then…” I take one step too far.
The world tilts and goes dark.
45
I wake up in a room that I’m sure is part of the monastery. I know it by the rough, uneven mortar between the stone. This place is painfully familiar now. A simple tunic covers my smallclothes as I shift underneath a heavy blanket.
It’s not one of the normal supplicant rooms. The finishes are a little too nice. Bed slightly wider. There’s a dresser and a proper desk with a chair. Perhaps this is one of the inquisitors’ rooms?
I turn my head and meet a familiar pair of gold and brown eyes. Father is seated next to me, shoulders hunched, as though he’s been perched there for hours.
“Isola.” He heaves a sigh of relief and leans down to plant a kiss on my forehead.
“The vicar actually summoned you.” I exhale my shock. “I wasn’t sure if he’d listen.”
“When I heard what had happened, I wanted to come, regardless. There are benefits to being a high curate.” He smiles weakly. “He said you wanted to tell me of a weapon?”
I see the vicar omitted my possibility of needing a sigil to stabilize the power within me. Strangely, I already feel better. Perhaps some rest—and not being in the Font—was enough. I glance toward the window. The sun is hanging low in the sky. I must’ve been out for a few hours.
“That was just an excuse.” I sit up, locking eyes with him. “You know about the tinctures Mum made me, don’t you?” His brows lift a fraction. A small amount I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t staring right at him. It’s not a no, and for my father that’s a yes. “I need you to get me one.”
He runs a hand through his hair, looking away and shaking his head. “I can’t.”
“I know the rules of the Tribunal. But the Font… I have never felt worse, Father. And I don’t think I’m going to make it if we don’t find a way to—”
“Even if I wanted to,I can’t.” That stills me. He continues, “Your mother is gone, Isola.”
“Gone?” A sickening feeling churns in my belly. “Did the vicar…”
“No. She’s gone missing.”
I study him, letting those words settle on me. “Mum wouldn’t disappear.” I grip the sheets, my knuckles turning white. She wouldn’t leave me. “The vicar killed her.”
“He did not.”
“Stop being obsessed with him for just a second and listen,” I snap.
“Stop allowing your hatred for him to blind you to what’s right in front of you.” He grabs my shoulders, shaking me gently and locking eyes with me once more. There’s a truth in them he’s trying to get me to see. “She. Is.Missing.”
See what’s right in front of me…He’s so unshakably sure. Father wouldn’t be, unless… “You know something.”
“Listen to me.” His voice is low and urgent now. He speaks without letting me go. So quietly that even if there were someone else in the room with us, they wouldn’t hear. “When you take your place back in the Tribunal, you must be what they expect of you as Valor Reborn. No matter what. If the vicar demands that you draw Ether without a sigil, youmust.”
“Even if it kills me?” The last thing I want right now is more Etherlight in me.
