“You saw the boy’s tattoo as clearly as I did,” he said, “and so did the rest of Sanctuary.”
“I know. When the dust settles, we’ll bring the Tribunal back together and Cosmo–”
“Your case against the Viper is done. That boy with the tattoo was your star witness. You’ve lost all credibility and let a Patriarch of a major House get away with murder. Whatever blaze comes for you in the First, know that you’re the one who fanned the flames.”
“Jude–”
“Get yourselves together. I want you out of my house in an hour.”
Pax bristled at his tone, but I just nodded in understanding.
“The journal–” I started.
“That’s done,” he snapped. “It was interesting while it lasted but we can’t risk it now. The knowledge is too important.”
Then Jude turned and stormed away, snapping at a nearby member of his own house to prepare to enter lockdown within the hour.
“Sir?” the woman named Aurora asked from where she knelt in front of me.
I glanced over to see Nick had been bandaged and cared for before holding my own arm out for her inspection. After some poking and prodding, she declared it was fractured in three places and spent the rest of our allotted hour fitting me into a sling. I let her work, watching the members of her house running in and out of the corridors beyond the door, listening to the sound of windows and doors slamming shut, locks clicking throughout the house.
The House of Harlowe would protect their books above all else. I had no doubt they would toss us out onto the streets after our hour was up no matter what violence was taking place outside. I couldn’t say I blamed them. It was in our nature to protect our own before any others, and the House of Harlowe had only grudgingly let us enter their walls after centuries of intentional isolation in the first place. They didn’t trust us and now, the way Jude saw it, I’d given them good enough reason to never trust us again. Because I’d known what that symbol was the moment Harrison removed his shirt and displayed it on his own back. I’d known what it would mean that Cosmo was the one who’d ordered him to show it and what it would mean for the rest of Sanctuary to see it. And even if they hadn’t known what it was in that moment, even if they’d forgotten the ancient symbol after centuries of poor education and historical coverups, the bombs had solidified the point well enough. The rebellion was here. And I’d been too preoccupied with the diary of a madman to properly prepare for it.
“Let’s go,” I said before the hour was up, rising from my place on the couch and walking more easily to the exit. My ears wereno longer ringing and I’d coughed up most of the debris I’d inhaled in the blast. My arm was aching in the sling and every step I took sent shudders through my back but I figured a nice glass of brandy and some pain medication would do wonders for that.
Paxon, Nick, and Cleo followed me warily to the door before placing themselves in front of me as we left. None of us knew what we would be walking into outside. If people were rioting, Guardians were instituting martial law, or the rebels had other plans, other bombs. It was a tense walk up to the First. None of us dared to speak as we made our way to the stairs and up to the next ring, cradling our injuries and keeping our heads on a swivel all the while.
Isla came storming into the foyer the moment we entered House Avus, the hem of her blue dress sliding against the smooth floor.
“A bomb?” she exploded the second she laid eyes on us. “They blew up the twelfth? What were they thinking? The Vipers are going to answer for this. We’ll call the Tribunal and–”
“It wasn’t the Vipers,” I interrupted her before turning to Pax. “Find Olympia. Find grandmother.”
He nodded and bowed once to Isla before striding past us up the stairs, Nick and Cleo hot on his heels, obviously eager to be out of the strike zone of this marital spat before it began.
“What do you mean it wasn’t the Vipers? Cosmo–”
“Managed to identify a member of the quietly growing rebellion that planned to set off a bomb once the whole Tribunal was gathered at his trial today,” I finished my explanation, sighing as I readjusted the sling around my arm in an effort to find a more comfortable angle. “I need a drink.”
Sidestepping my wife, I began to make my way up the stairs as well. Isla followed immediately, as I knew she would. Sheentered my office right behind me and shut the door so we were alone.
“Your arm,” she said.
“Just a fracture,” I told her. “Nothing that can’t be mended in time.”
“Is that what we have now, Milo? An abundance of time?”
My eyes slid up to find her watching me where I stood, pouring myself a glass of whiskey at my desk. Isla was afraid. She always lashed out when she was. As her husband, I probably should have said something to comfort her, to assure her we would be fine, but as a realist, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The fact of the matter was that we were woefully underprepared for a rebellion and it seemed the Vipers were not.
“We’ve been focused on the wrong threat,” I told her, frowning. “I’ve been focused on the wrong thing entirely and I fear we might all suffer for my incompetence.”
“You’re the Heir, Milo, not the Patriarch,” Isla reminded me. “What has Nascha been doing about this rebellion?”
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face as I collapsed into my chair.
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “She’s been so obsessed with her gods. It’s consumed her. Olympia only just discovered the existence of the rebels a few weeks ago and the fact that they were making plans even more recently. If we’d had any idea they would go to this extreme–”
“You didn’t tell her,” Isla said, accusatory. “You discovered a band of rebels using the symbol of the resistance again and didn’t tell your Matriarch.”
