Icarus forced his roaring temper to quiet as he stared at his young brother who had so quickly become a man. His father’s warning thrummed within his head. He knew he couldn’t let Calder anywhere near him now that the stone was his. “A word, Calder.” Cal’s brow twisted with confusion. He opened his mouth but Icarus shook his head. “Alone, now.”
Arabella stepped forward, her mouth open to protest, and even Seren raised a delicate eyebrow, but as usual she understood his unspoken intention, his urgency, and laid a gentle hand on her sister’s arm. He stepped a fair distance down the hall and Calder followed, grumbling the whole way.
“What?” he snapped after Icarus finally stopped outside the moonlit window where their voices would not be heard. “We are wasting time. What do you need to say that cannot be said in front of them?”
“Did Father not tell you then?”
Calder’s face twisted. “Father is rambling and ill. He needs rest, so no, we haven’t been able to do much catching up.”
Icarus sighed, reining in what felt like an endless amount of patience required to deal with his brother. “Just cut the bitter, couldn't care less facade for a moment andlistento me. He told me that Cyrus has plans beyond uniting the three with whatever dark magic he’s contrived. He plans to resurrect Atlas somehow, but he needs all three–the vessel, the stone, the grimoire. And you.”
Calder blanched as though he’d gone as mad as their father. “Me? You’re not making any sense, brother.” His gaze cut to the sisters peering at them from down the hall. Even from there, Icarus could see the worry thriving behind Seren’s dark eyes. He grabbed Calder by the collar to pull him in, much like he’d done to him as a child only now it wasn’t a playful gesture. He needed him to focus.
“Yes, you. I didn’t fully understand it, but it sounds like…like he would have Atlas possess you. Use you as some sort of vessel of his own.”
“That’s insane. This magic is powerful, but bringing someone back from the dead? Unheard of. Father is lost to his trauma. There’s no time to stop and worry about what ‘ifs’ or speculate. We spoke while you were inside and it’s been agreed that the grimoire should be hidden in the conservatory.”
It was Icarus’s turn to pull back and scowl in disbelief. “The conservatory? Are you mad—”
“Now you mustlisten,brother. The room only opens for the Marudas sisters. It seems Cyrus could only get in because you were already inside. Correct? So if we brought the book inside, hid it, the door should reseal. Cyrus would never be able to find it on his own. He only got the stone because Seren was already inside. He knows I have the grimoire and would hunt me to the ends of the earth for it. But I doubt he would suspect we put it back.”
Icarus’s mind whirred. "Even if that idea didn't sound absolutely insane, you would need one of them to get in there at all." Icarus frowned at Cal's answering look which had flicked to Seren, and tightened his hold on the collar of his soiled suit jacket. "No.” He shook his head, voice rising. “I don't trust you with her."
Cal jerked away. “Ara can’t be roaming the halls. If he catches her and the grimoire together it’s all over. We must bring him down so that they’re safe. So that all of Lynoria is safe. Once we do, and we take the stone from him we can set everything right.”
Icarus growled, "No.I won't hear of it. I will not risk her being at his mercy again." His mind flashed to the wraiths in the conservatory that had surrounded her, drowning her in their kiss of death.
Seren's cool fingertips encased his arm, peeling him away from his younger brother with a gentle force that only she could perfect. When she’d moved down the hall to them, he wasn’t sure, but her touch eased at the emotions welling inside of him. "It's my choice Icarus. We will be quick, I promise. I'll lead Calder to the conservatory so Arabella can stay safely warded in her dorm. We will hide, it and I'll come straight back here. Calder will then join you to stop your uncle."
Icarus wanted to roar. To rage. But he knew this battle had already been lost. Seren was more stubborn than he could ever hope to be, and Cal twice that.
"Fine. Do what you will, but if anything happens to her Cal . . . " Icarus could see the understanding that shone behind his brother's eyes. He didn't even need to finish his sentence. Cal knew the reckoning that would be brought down upon him should any harm come to Seren Marudas.
The sweet cry of a violin poured out from the dining hall as Icarus passed by, creeping through the shadows of the foyer. A soft whistle and Eiridis flapped off his shoulder to circle twice above the high ceiling, his eyes sharper than a freshly forged blade. When he returned, it was to utter two soft hoots: code that he had not spotted Cyrus or the headmistress amongst the crowd.
Unease expanded in the pit of Icarus' stomach. He nodded and his familiar flapped off to keep a watchful eye on Seren. Icarus took a sharp right, following the long hall that led to administrations and Sidonia's office beyond. When Icarus reached the archway that usually led to her door, he was miffed to find a narrow stairway, lit by sconces that burned low and cast shadows along the ancient stone. 'The Tower must be restless,'he thought, brow furrowing. It was rare that Calami rearranged the offices of the professors and even rarer to move the headmistress'.
Taking the steps two at a time, he reached a landing that veered right and opened to a second flight, and then to an even darker hall headed west. His footfalls echoed ominously as he continued for what seemed an impossible amount of time before reaching a gap in the hall that opened to another set of stairs—the grand staircase. He realized with a start he had come full circle. Sidonia’s office door had been moved to the top of the stairs leading to the ball below. That same sweet music and soft light trickled up towards him, and a trail of those glimmering bubbles led forward to a familiar wooden door carved deeply with Calami's symbol. Even from this side, he could smell the lush green scent of the many plants Sidonia grew in her office.
What is the Tower doing? What does it know?He wondered and contemplated a knock before thinking better of it. On the other side of the door, low voices murmured in fierce argument. Icarus recognized both. His hand slipped into his pocket to grab his augure before thrusting the door open wide. It banged like a gunshot against the wall behind it. Icarus gathered a gusting wind spell and threw it towards the sound of his uncle's voice before he was even fully inside the room.
Papers scattered to the wind. Plants were knocked from their perch — glass pots smashing against the polished wooden floor. The force of the spell was so strong that the three wide windows at the far wall cracked and then blew out beneath the pressure. Cyrus, taken off guard, was thrown back with it. Slamming over Sidonia's desk with a furious cry of alarm.
“Icarus!” Sidonia cried, her lavender robes fluttering with the force of the spell. “What is the meaning of this?”
“He is a liar and a traitor, Sidonia. He has the stone. He fractured my mother’s mind and blamed it on my father.” The fury of speaking it out loud built within Icarus until it was all he could do to hold back the curse of death he longed to send straight at Cyrus’s exposed chest.
Cyrus staggered to his feet, head bleeding where it had met with the unforgiving stone wall and shards of glass. Icarus waited for the horror to twist Sidonia’s face. For the understanding to dawn that she, too, had condemned an innocent man. Had been fooled by the snake that righted himself, clutching the edge of her desk to stand before them, but it didn’t come. Instead, Icarus found a cold detachment gleaming in her eyes as she walked to Cyrus, glass crunching beneath her boots.
“So youdidfind it then. Where is it, Cyrus?”
A cruel sneer flashed through his blood-stained teeth as he looked at the headmistress who stood a few inches taller. “It is safe, that’s all you need to know.”
“We had a deal, Cyrus. We’re in this together.” Her hiss echoed into the night that breezed in from the shattered windows. The cold from outside was nothing compared to that which was slowly encasing Icarus’ heart.
“Together?” he repeated, a numbness creeping through him.
"Lilith," Sidonia called as if Icarus were as inconsequential as dust.
