Page 286 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

Jules spends most of his free time with Vasily now.

They disappear into one another’s rooms for hours, emerging for meals or when security requires it. Lachlan often finds them reading together, sometimes sketching or writing, though he can never quite tell which. There is always a book open between them, heads bent close over its pages.

It makes him happy that Jules has found a real friend.

Happier still that Vasily is finally letting someone in.

The relief comes sharpened by guilt.

Danya remains faultless with all three of them.

Whatever broke in the kitchen has not touched his professionalism. He guards Mimi with the same tireless attention as before. He and Lachlan communicate through operational necessities alone, nothing personal.

It’s hard to admit, but the loss of their friendship is almost as unbearable as losing Jules. No longer spending time locked away in the bedroom with the boy he loves, or even winding down with Danya in the early hours, Lachlan is faced with a fairly hideous amount of time alone.

His mind plagues him. Memory haunts him. The future is unclear.

Vasily finds him late one evening in the hall outside Control.

He approaches quietly with a book held against his chest. He still moves as though every room belongs to someone else and permission to occupy it might be withdrawn at any moment, but he no longer startles when Lachlan turns towards him, which is good.

Lachlan will take whatever scraps of good he can get.

‘Everything all right?’ he asks the boy gently.

‘Yes.’ Vasily hesitates. ‘I came…’

He struggles to finish. Lachlan takes pity on him.

‘I’ll walk you to your room,’ he offers as the boy falls into step. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask, what are these books you’re both reading?’

‘Oh.’ Vasily’s eyes go wide. ‘Um.’

‘It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me. I just didn’t know anything besides Trixie Belden could enthral you quite so much.’

‘They were, um… a gift from my father.’ Vasily looks down, thumb moving slowly over the worn edge of the cover.

They walk in near silence for a minute.

Lachlan keeps his tone casual. ‘Does Jules like the books?’

Vasily’s eyes lift immediately. ‘You should ask him yourself.’

‘Mm. So, anyway—’

‘Is Danya my brother?’ Vasily asks out of nowhere.

They both stop walking. Lachlan glances around, giving Vasily a warning look that plainly says, not here, but it’s too late.

‘In the journals, there was a photograph of my father with Alistair and Ariadne. It looks so much like Danya I thought it was him.’

‘Can I see?’ Lachlan asks, curious despite himself.

‘I thought you would want to see,’ Vasily says, casting about before he shows Lachlan the book, which is a very thick, very full handwritten journal that Lachlan assumes is Mikhail’s. It opens to the page Vasily has marked with his finger.

The photograph stuck down is old and discoloured with age.

He sees three happy faces staring at him, all hugging one another.