The leather seat groaned beneath my shifting weight as I straightened. My brows nudged together as I rubbed my curled fingers across my chin, staring into the fire burning bright in the hearth. Had my mother been stealing someone’s pain?
Who the hells had she visited in Ascendria the day she’d been stolen?
And why didn’t I remember visiting this place?
I needed to ask my brothers about that day, in particular Jett. Luckily, and somewhat un-fucking-luckily, he was here.
My siblings had descended upon the library an hour after I’d arrived. It was then I told them what I’d learned from my little bird earlier. Silas Boon was connected to the creepy warriors of the Children of Harbinger. And Silas knew Nelle was a wyrm.
The knowledge stirred up a fuck-ton more questions between my siblings before they finally settled down to dig through the vast shelves of books, trying to find any information on wyrm taming. They’d find nothing, just like I had when I learned I was a tamer at a young age. Throughout the following years, Iscoured this room and turned up very little. There was barely anything on the subject among our ancestors’ books that was worth noting.
Jett tossed his book down on the other end of the table with an irritatedslapnear the stack Kenton and Penn were adding to while he and Caidan went through them and then discarded those they couldn’t find any information within. I could have helped them out and told them which books would yield knowledge, but I was a prick and didn’t give a shit.
Ferne was busy with her cellphone. Her forehead creased in concentration as she typed rapidly. She was to organize the upcoming family reunion. A morbid celebration, for sure, since the timing of it was to coincide with Nelle’s twentieth birthday.
A flush of pink stained Penn’s cheeks as she descended the ladder with a gilded book hooked into the crook of her elbow.
Kenton bent down and scooped up the one she’d accidentally dropped. His deep voice rumbled, “You don’t need to help us.”
“It’s no bother,” she replied, heading with silent footsteps to the long table we were all gathered around. Her dark brown hair, brushed until it shone like metal, hung down her back. The denim of her skinny jeans whispered with her movement. When not in her uniform, she was always neat and tidy, with clothing pressed to perfection. I’d never seen her in anything with short sleeves, not even a t-shirt. Her shirts were always long-sleeved and buttoned right to the collar.
I ignored the pointed glances between Caidan and Jett, and their sharp murmurings as they looked at Penn with faint frowns tightening their features.
They felt uncomfortable with Penn’s help, since it was related to the Witches Ball. And she was a constant reminder of Nelle’s situation.
But maybe, as I considered Penn, who fidgeted with the cuff of her long-sleeved shirt, this was what she intended. I’d watchedher interactions with Nelle over the past week. There was a sense of camaraderie she shared with my little bird. Yet, Penn beheld my family with both a quiet challenge and absolute faith.
She shouldn’t have faith in us. What had happened to my mother, to my family, was too deeply rooted, especially with the way my aunt had nurtured our only hope and twisted us for the past five years. Aunt Valarie couldn’t risk us failing like we’d faltered the last time with the Witches Ball.
That was what I’d suggested to Nelle in my mother’s gardens—to look deeper.
She needed to unearth why my brothersneededto dislike her so intensely.
You couldn’t falter if you believed in what you were doing.
Which was why my brothers were more than uncomfortable with Nelle being up in my rooms. Why Kenton didn’t want her wandering the Keep. He wanted her locked up below. Out of sight, out of mind. So he didn’t have to face up to what he was part of.
Whathe’ddone seven years ago.
He’d faltered back then. As we all had.
We couldn’t hesitate this time and not follow through. Aunt Valarie wouldn’t allow it. She’d manipulated us for many years to ensure we wouldn’t.
Penn’s soft voice stole my attention as she placed the book on the table beside Caidan and addressed me. “New shoes will arrive tomorrow.”
I gave her my thanks and ignored the smarmy laughter from Jett, instead blowing out a thick cloud of smoke right in his face, making him cough and disperse it with a frantic wave of his hand. “Fuck you,” he scowled.
Penn fixed the tall stack of books, so it sat in a neat tower, and then she stood still, awaiting instructions.
Deathly still.
Penn always reminded me of a living doll. She would hold herself stock-still for ridiculously long periods of time. Endure aching muscles hidden behind a serene expression. I’d often wondered if it had been bred into her during her childhood. Perhaps she’d been afraid to draw attention to herself. Perhaps if she moved or looked or even breathed the wrong way, something terrible would happen.
She stood at the other end of the table, directly across from me, those youthful-old eyes staring straight ahead, unblinking, only her chest rising and falling gently. Almost as if she were in a trance.
Kenton nudged her with an elbow, making her sway off-kilter and correct her balance with a stumbling step.
She righted herself, passing a panicked hand over her hair to smooth the strands and fix her shirt collar and sleeves. “I’m sorry. I forget sometimes,” she replied, flustered.
