I cut him off quickly. “How is Viola?”
The unease of being so close to the estate aside, I miss my aunt horribly. We haven’t seen each other in seven years. Staying at the Bauers’ offers me a rare chance to see her that I might not get again. “Does she still come here often? Do you think you could extend an invite before I leave?”
Valen’s brow lifts. “You’d like me to arrange a meeting?”
My face lights in eagerness. “If you could, but only if it’s in secret. I’d like to avoid my father at all costs.”
“I’d be happy to assist, but the problem is getting her here.”
My gut clenches. “What do you mean?”
His slow sip is maddening. “The Archweaver isn’t letting her out of his sight, let alone off the grounds of his estate.”
“Why?” The force of my heart jumping turns the word into a harsh snap.
Valen doesn’t comment on my tone and instead sets his glass down, his fingers lingering on it. “Unfortunately, I am not privy to the Archweaver’s private thoughts. You’ll have to ask him.”
My mind turns, mulling over this new information. “Or maybe you’ve got it flipped. Maybe it’s Viola who’s choosing to stick close to the Archweaver.” Valen stares at me and I continue the thought. “The bounty on me. Maybe she’s concerned with my safety.”
Valen spins the glass slowly. “It’s a large bounty for someone that wasn’t particularly hard to find.”
I hold his gaze, like I’m trying to read his mind. Did he read the letter? My head tilts. “If she’s so hard to reach, how did you get the letter from her?”
“It was delivered with instructions. My father told me to be the messenger and I obeyed.” He refills his glass. “If you wish tosee Viola, I’m afraid you’ll have to go to your father’s estate to do it.”
My skin tightens with a chill and my hands curl into fists, my palms clammy. Maybe I shouldn’t have had such a rich lunch. It’s like a lead weight in my gut.
My lips are numb. “When was the last time anyone has seen Vi?”
Valen’s head tilts, eyes narrowing. “We haven’t spoken to her in six months.”
All the air leaves the room. Valen and Lucas start bickering over plans, but what is said is lost on me as I fall deep into my psyche. Six months. That’s when I stopped leaving the shop. A cold, unholy feeling prickled my skin and my magic hummed each time I reached for the shop’s doorknob. I know well enough to heed such dire warnings.
The memory of the iron’s burn on my mouth jolts hot agony down my center. Tears burn my eyes. What if that’s where Viola is now? Shivering in a corner of the Archweaver’s office, magic sucked from her, waiting for help that doesn’t come.
Purpose clenches my heart, hardening my gaze. No. Helpiscoming. No god will save my father if I find my aunt in such a way. My vengeance will sweep over that estate with such cruelty, it’ll make my curse seem like a silly jest.
And yet… The estate. My family home. That cold, lifeless place. Could I go back? Walk down the halls that used to close in on me? Could I even breathe in such a place?
My throat closes and my fists tighten. Returning, even in secret, means risking running into my father. Would checking on Viola be worth such a thing? My gut screams at me no and to run away as fast as I can, yet I stay rooted in my seat. I must know what has happened to Aunt Vi… even if it means facing my father again.
Lucas is laughing, the sound distant, and Valen hisses something vicious. Magic is thick in the air, cracking and humming. Lucas’ rings flicker. My heart pounds. Hot and cold ripple over me until I sweat. They don’t notice. No one notices. I close my eyes, trying to slow my erratic breathing. Trying to slow my heart, but it doesn’t work. I need Jinx. My familiar’s rhythmic purring around my shoulders would ease the burden.
But Jinx isn’t here. She’s far away, guarding our home in Havenport.
No, what I need is my grimoire. My threads are warring within my soul and only its power can force them into submission.
My magic throbs, stretched thin from the healing. The fissure on my sternumaches. A pull that I cannot allow to break free of my control nearly slips. Like two magnets, there are two pieces within me that want to touch but can never be allowed to do so.
My breath shivers, my eyes squeezing tighter. I need my grimoire to regain my hold on the pieces. Ineedit. If I don’t get it soon, then everything I’ve worked for will fall.
But I don’t have the time. My life will crumble if my father gets ahold of me. The Archweaver will show no mercy. I need Viola, who could be locked up in a hellish prison.
I’m alone. All alone and about to face my father with my curse-damaged magic. Hopelessness shakes my resolve, my eyes burning.
The air ripples, the sensation caressing my face. Slowly, my eyes open. The wall behind Valen shifts, morphing. A leg steps through it, pulling out a man in an immaculate sapphire suit, a pin on his lapel glinting in the light.
Valen’s back thumps in his seat and he does not tear his gaze away from his glaring match with Lucas. “Welcome home, Father.”
