Page 91 of The City Of Fractured Memory

“Then spill it. Now.”

He stays silent for a few minutes, long enough that I start to think he won’t speak at all, when finally he takes in a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“I was eight years old when I discovered the truth about my mother. Vesper, Xavier and I were playing in our father’s office. I ended up hitting my head on the underside of his desk and something cracked. I found a hidden compartment full of papers, all about me and my real mother. Father found me and I confronted him. I tried to run away, but I didn’t get far. He told me that my mere existence was a death sentence, and that I couldn’t leave the house without disguising myself. Xavier and Vesper stopped playing with me after that, barely even spoke to me.

“A week later, he took me from my bed in the middle of the night, bound and gagged, and took me to a cavern beneath the Memosyne. Told me I was part of something bigger than myself. He was the leader of the Children of the Briar, alongside his friend, Vincent—your real father.”

I inhale sharply, my stomach twisting. “Our fathers led this cult? The one responsible for all these deaths?”

“Yes,” he says, his gaze firmly on the floor. “That’s when I first saw you. Together, our fathers started a ritual. I didn’t know what for at the time, but it was clear we were to be sacrificed for it. But at the last second, with our fathers’ knives held against our throats, your mother came and put an end to it. I don’t remember how—my father hit me and knocked me out—but when I awoke, you were gone, your father dead in your place. Mine, unfortunately, was still alive.”

I frown, trying to let his words sink in. “So, what happened to these seers…the same thing happened to us, because of this prophecy?”

“I think so, yes. At the time they believed we were the key. But after everything went wrong, I was locked up in the house, treated like I didn’t exist. Then around a year later, I was watching Xavier play in the street outside, and a girl with white hair showed up. I knew it was you as soon as I saw you, I felt this insane pull towards you. You returned each day to play, but he never brought you inside, always making you hide whenever mother or father came out to check on him. But they knew. One day, father caught me watching you through the window. I asked who you were, why I felt connected to you, and he told me of the prophecy. Then he sliced my hand with a knife, forcing me into a blood oath so I could never tell you the truth of it.

“I knew I could never speak to you, not unless I wanted to risk my life for it—though believe me, it was tempting. But I remained inside, watching you from afar. I knew if I bided my time, I would eventually figure out a way to get to you, and to make everyone pay for keeping you from me.”

I silently take his hand and give it a squeeze, words failing me as he continues with his story.

“I came up with a plan. I played the part of doting son, doing anything and everything he asked of me, and eventually he started letting me be a part of his business. He would bring me to the cult meetings, the council meetings too, and I started to learn. But he made a grave mistake. When I was fifteen, he showed me those horrific experiments he had been performing on Echofae slaves. That’s when I learned that Xavier and Vesper had known about it all along, had been a part of it. I couldn’t contain my anger, and I just…I exploded.”

He runs his free hand through his hair, his eyes closing as pain flashes across his face.

“I’d been reading up on curses the night before, and I lost it, cursing my entire family without even realising what I was doing. But my father was no weak man. He wore that curse like a badge of honour, and I couldn’t stand it. Eventually I cracked and killed him. I hoped the blood oath would die with him, but I was wrong.”

No wonder Xavier hates him so much. I’ve always known an Echofae killed his father, but now I know it was by Riven’s hand…the deep mistrust he has for Echofae is starting to make a lot more sense now.

“What did Xavier and Vesper do when you killed your father?” I ask.

“At that point, Xavier and Vesper had already put distance between us, but after I killed him they disowned me completely. They changed their names, moved away. Xavier joined the Division, I assume with the hopes of making his own way in the world without our oppressive family name. So I took up our father’s mantle, took his place in the council, even officially joined the cult. I made a name for myself too, became a person people respected, feared even. The whole time I couldn’t get you out of my head, though.”

He pauses, his fingers gently brushing my knee as he rests our joined hands on my leg. I try to ignore the shiver that crawls its way up my spine at the sensation of his hand on me, trying to remind myself of how dangerous he is. But whilst I’m still wary of him, I can’t deny the part of me that seems to crave the lure of danger.

“I started using my power for good,” he continues, his fingers idly tracing circles against my skin. “I started cutting away the rot of this city, killing everyone who’d ever been a part of those hideous experiments, and freeing any Echofae that I could. Then, by chance, you turned up when one of my missions went awry. But you mistakenly thought I was the suspect, and I realised then, a way I could talk to you without being close to you. That’s when I started sending the notes.”

I stare at the floor, trying to focus on everything he’s saying. “I get all that, but what has this got to do with the murdered seers? And why did they wait so long to try the ritual again? It’s been what? Twenty years since it was attempted on us?”

“Because they realised the ritual failed, not just because of your mother, but because they needed the Codex Of Thorns. It won’t work without the right incantations, and the Codex has been hidden for that very reason. They’ve spent the last two decades looking for it.”

I inhale sharply. “Stryx and I read about it in the Archives, shortly before we were attacked.”

He grimaces. “It seems like someone’s been trying to stop you figuring out too much, trying to work the narrative to their advantage. A few months ago I started to hear whispers, rumours about a new, formidable mortal, someone who could bring about the revolution the cult so desperately craved. The rituals started not long after. I’ve been wondering if it’s that same person who attacked you in the Archives.”

He pauses again while I try to take everything in, my heart racing uncontrollably.

“That’s when the murders started? But if you’ve been a part of this cult, wouldn’t you be part of this too? How can you not know who this person is?”

“This cult, they’re…fanatical, especially of late. I’ve been keeping my distance in recent years. I blamed it on my growing responsibilities as Governor, but I know a few of them started to suspect that I was hiding something. A couple of weeks ago they called a meeting out of the blue, and I decided to attend so I could figure out what was going on. As soon as I arrived I was cornered. My memory after that was forcibly siphoned, so I have no recollection of what happened to the seer or who was responsible for it. They made me take her home, remove her diadem and I instructed her to lock the doors. When she ended up dead the next morning…I assumed whatever they were doing, they were trying to pin the murder on me for some reason. I had no choice but to do the same thing with the rest of the victims.”

I narrow my eyes at him, playing it all out in my head. “I don’t understand. How did they force you to do all this? Not only once, but three times? You’re clearly powerful, why didn’t you just fight back?”

He turns his head and his gaze locks on mine, guilt swimming in the depths. “Because they threatened to kill you if I didn’t.”

I swallow thickly. “You—you did all this…for me?”

I’m really not sure how I feel about that.

“I couldn’t let them hurt you,” he insists, his grip on my leg tightening. “But don’t worry, I made sure to play them at their own game. You already suspected Corvus, so I continued sending the notes; I made you think I was responsible, deliberately confused you so you would be drawn to investigate me. I hoped in doing so you would learn the truth and release me from that damn oath.”