“You’ve been spying on the Bexley family again,” she said. She’d already known. How did she always know?
“And Cosmo,” I argued, defensively.
“What did you learn?”
“Nothing.”
“Were you seen?”
I hesitated. She wasn’t looking at me anymore. She’d strode across the room and was now standing still, admiring a painting above her dresser that had been there for as long as I could remember. It depicted something Milo referred to as an ocean, whatever that was, and a wooden contraption holding several men upon it. Lightening streaked through the sky and the overall mood was one of despair. It had always given me the creeps so I’d never looked too closely at it before. I couldn’t remember Nascha ever having done so either.
Her gaze flicked to mine and I realized I hadn’t answered her.
“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I wasn’t seen. Not at House Viper, at least. At the Bexley’s, there was this neighbor girl out. But I don’t think she’ll be mentioning it to anyone. I scared her enough to—"
“Do you do this a lot?” my grandmother interrupted. Her eyes narrowed in either suspicion or consideration, I couldn’t tell which.
“Sneak out?”
“Spy on people without their knowledge.”
I could hear the accusation in her tone. My cheeks burned at the implication.
“I’m not some creep,” I snapped. “That Third Ringer was hiding something, I know it. She must have been. She wouldn’t have been paired with Dante if she wasn’t. She never would have won all ten trials. She wasn’t who she said she was. She couldn’t be. And Cosmo has more secrets than the House of Chasina has flowers. I’m just trying to even the playing field. Milo has his books. I have this. This is my research. This is how I can help.”
My grandmother had remained silent while I’d defended myself, promised her there was a reason for my actions, and explained the knowledge I hoped to gain, the questions driving me. She’d respected that academic curiosity in my cousin. Maybe it would get me out of trouble here.
“So, yes,” she said after a moment of thought. “You do this often.”
I frowned but didn’t answer. I’d already said all I had to say on the subject. She would either accept my explanation or she wouldn't. I wouldn’t apologize.
“I want you to do it for me.”
My arms fell to my sides, lips parting slightly as I leaned forward in surprise.
“What?” I asked. It was all I could think to say.
“I want you to spy for me, officially,” she repeated herself. “You’re right. Cosmo has secrets, ones I fear will impact all of Sanctuary, ones we need to be ready to counter in time. Raghnall has motives of his own, motives I want to understand for purposes of unification. The priests have some arrangement with the snakes and the Guardians are in his pocket as well. I need my own weapon to wield against the patriarch of House Viper. I’ve always turned to knowledge in the past. Why shouldn’t I now?”
I nodded along as she spoke. It was a good plan. One couldn’t face an enemy they didn’t understand, or so Milo always said, and we could always use the information we gathered asblackmail if necessary. But this was a calculated move from Nascha, one far more brutal, far more treacherous than any I’d known her to make before. Something was different now and, when I looked up into her eyes, I could see what it was.
The matriarch of House Avus was scared.
“Join me, Olympia,” she said. Her tone held a note of fervent resolve I couldn’t help but admire. “Do this and we can cut the head off the snake together.”
She was offering me a chance to prove I could function in society again, to prove I could be useful to my House, and it would allow me to continue seeking answers about the girl from the Third Ring as well as get my vengeance on the patriarch of House Viper. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
So, with a clenched jaw, I gave my grandmother one firm nod.
Chapter Three
Milo
As someone who’d recently begun spending every waking moment reading the personal diary of a madman, headaches had become my new normal.
Sighing, I stood from the old wooden desk, stretched my arms over my head, and paced a few steps away. I strode for the window before sliding it open and peering down at the courtyard below. Fresh air for a clear head, as grandmother always said. Though I doubted the air would be able to bring any clarity to the mess I was mired in now.
Eximius, former patriarch of House Avus who was often lovingly referred to as Simi by his close friends and family, wasn’t just mad. He was psychotic and he’d documented every moment of his lunacy in that accursed diary. Now, five hundred years later, the task had somehow fallen to me to interpret his insane rants.
