Feargus

  I hadn’t slept since that nap I’d taken on a cracker after my music lessons with Zack, and with all the running around I’d been doing, I was knackered. I also had a few problems that needed solving. So, after parting ways with Sebastian, I ran to the cabin for a deep sleep. Once I was refreshed, I’d have a deep think. When I got home, Zack was playing a song on Everleigh’s violin, but he stopped when I stepped through the door.

  He narrowed his eyes appraisingly and said, “You look terrible.”

  I’d have been offended, but it was probably true.

  “And you smell,” he added.

  I gave myself a good whiff. Now, I realize I might have gone nose blind, and it had been a minute since I’d taken a bath, but I smelled all right to myself: like winter, leather, and—something sexy, something spicy, and something sweet. “Do I?”

  Zacharias put the violin back in its case and snapped the latches shut. Whatever he planned to say in response, he wasn’t doing it in a hurry. “You smell like my brother. Musk, sandalwood, and vanilla. Where is he?”

  I rubbed my beard. “Food-related problem, mate.”

  Zacharias tugged at his shirt collar, eventually undoing the first two buttons. “Have you asked him to fix it?”

  I nodded.

  “And he can’t?”

  I shook my head.

  Zacharias sighed. “So he’s really here.”

  I nodded.

  “What a foolish thing to do.”

  I shrugged. I was too tired for another round of charades with my increasingly moody roommate. I was surprised he hadn’t seen Sebastian yet for himself, but I’d noticed his interest in watching over the crew was fading as he stepped further into his role as the Law, and Sebastian had been careful. Without saying anything more, I kicked off my boots, tossed my jacket against the hook on the wall, and dove into bed. I didn’t even bother getting under the covers, and I reckon I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

  Days Until Lidia Dies: 1

  Sebastian wasn’t in a position to help with the hidden doors at the moment, and that was fine. I didn’t want him bailing on the crew, either. Zacharias was already gone for the day when I woke up the next morning, but that might have been for the best.

  Did I really want to spring Zack on Everleigh if we found her? The only reason I’d taken Sebastian with me to her office was because of their bond. Also, did I want to expose Zacharias to Delilah, if Delilah really was a factor? But if not Zack, I wasn’t sure where I was going to find a capable enough elementalist. I considered Derek, but he and Della were in the process of expanding their family, and I didn’t want to drag them into anything.

  Above all, I wasn’t even sure these music notes doors had anything to do with Everleigh’s disappearance. So then I had an idea. Before heading out, I boiled some water from the stream, refilled my canteen, topped up my Hocks, and refreshed my snacks.

  I wouldn’t trade being ‘one of the fast ones’ for anything, mates. After finishing up at the cabin, I took off in the direction of Leberecht, intending to check Sebastian’s domain first. It made the most sense, right? The song, Everleigh, Delilah wanting me to find Sebastian, and then finding Sebastian at the theatre—aye, it made the most sense.

  But I stopped in my tracks at about the halfway mark.

  Did it actually make the most sense? I pulled out my compass, reoriented toward Istok, and then back the other way. Which one? While everything recently seemed to be pointing toward Sebastian, Everleigh’s original ask was to wake up Zacharias. Everything I’d been doing to the point of Sebastian’s surprise reentry had been about Zacharias.

  I bolted toward Istok.

  With the map in hand, I wandered the area around the music note.

  It was still early winter, but being further up north, the snow was heavy. If there were a secret door nearby that had been opened recently, I wondered if the snow above it might not be as deep as the rest around it. So, I started looking for a patch of area with a suspicious lack of snow.

  Found it.

  I tucked the map away and blew into my hands a few times. When I put together my winter gear, I forgot to think about gloves. Or mittens. Probably mittens. They weren’t as practical but—wait? Why not both? I wondered if I could get a pair of mittens that could also be fingerless gloves. I’d have to talk to Vivienne about that.

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  I loaded a silver bolt into my crossbow, and reached under my fur-lined leather jacket for the Anima whistle. I clocked a few perfect trees in the short distance, and with my destination in mind, I blew the whistle and ran. I grabbed hold of the lowest, sturdiest branch, pulled myself up and bounded to the next tree, gaining height.

  And then, like always, I waited.

  Twelve, eighteen, twenty-five and a half seconds.

  My tree shook when the ground began to rumble, dumping a fair bit of snow on my head and shoulders. I brushed it off. Good thing I was wearing my fuzzy hat. At the same time, the snow over the secret door swept inward, gathering together and swirling into a big, fully-formed ball. The ball rolled away.

  Even though I knew what to expect, actually seeing the ground open up in front of my very eyes threw me for a loop, mates. But that’s what happened. From my vantage, I could see there were stairs leading down the hole. I heard footsteps, and someone coming—

  But instead, something skinny and fast raced out of the hole, flying through the air at top speed. Spinning, spinning, straight toward my head. I leaped from my branch to another, barely escaping whatever it was. But it came for me again, needling in my direction, and again, I just barely escaped to a higher branch. This went on a couple more times before I heard the laughter below. I’d know that giggle-snort anywhere.

  When I looked down, Everleigh stood beside the hole looking up. And beside her—not Delilah. The sleek, inanimate object that had moments ago been trying to kill me, raced back toward the hole, spinning, and spinning until it stopped at its owner’s side.

  Matilda’s quill ended the show with a saucy twirl, and Matilda herself peered up at me through a pair of large, round spectacles.

  I jumped down from the tree.

  “Took you long enough,” Ever quipped.

  Matilda said nothing, but the quill shimmied.

  After sealing up the hole, we made our way down a short, dingy corridor in silence, turning in at the first door.

  Everleigh crooked her hand toward the lock, and there was a satisfying click. Matilda nodded approvingly.

  She was the first to enter the room, and then Ever, and then myself.

  The space was clean, not a single cobweb or speck of dust. Exposed copper pipes lined the ceilings and walls, and there was a big bed with brand new coverings. There was a desk, a few tables filled with knick knacks, and a piano in the corner. It also looked brand new. Finally, the portraits around the room. I recognized Sebastian of course, and Avis from the photograph. There was one of her and a young boy with long, black hair who looked a lot like her, and another portrait of that same boy. I reckoned that was Jakob.

  The door snapped shut behind us, and Matilda gestured forward.

  I stepped in to have a closer look around.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d get past the whistle lock,” Ever said.

  “I reckon now I’m owed some answers. I’ve been worried about you, Everleigh. Everyone has been.”

  Matilda’s quill zipped toward me and circled my head. “Everleigh was under strict orders to tell no one.”

  “But she didn’t say I couldn’t show you,” Ever added.

  A page right out of my own book, mates.

  “You have a loyal companion,” Matilda reassured me.

  I had questions, namely: how did they get a piano down here, and who made it? But that question, and others, would have to wait. In the process of circling the weird room, I ran my fingers over the lettered keys of what I reckoned was called a typewriter. I’d seen one similar in Delphia once. “How do you two even know each other?”

  “First thing’s first,” Matilda answered, motioning to a leather chair. It reminded me of the ones I’d seen behind the keyhole in the mountain. “Let’s right a wrong.”

  Everleigh watched closely, and when I didn’t immediately move, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “We’re going to fix your brain.”

  I couldn’t contain the smile, mates. The food-related problem was becoming more and more of a problem, and it wasn’t even funny anymore.

  “Really?” I asked. “How? Why?”

  “Yes, really,” Matilda answered. “Sit.”

  I sat.

  “The reversal of your food-related problem requires both a telepath and an empath.” Matilda paced while she spoke, her faithful quill bobbing along beside her. “I’ve gone over the process with Everleigh several times. I believe her to be more than capable. You are of course welcome to seek out another pair, and I’ll happily share my knowledge. Or we do it together, here and now. The question is: do you trust her with your emotions? And do you trust me with your mind?”

  “It’s not like I had much of a choice the first time,” I said. “No offense.”

  Matilda nodded patiently while I decided. Everleigh stared.

  I wasn’t sure if I trusted Matilda yet, I didn’t know her. But she was there, helping me where no one else had been able to. And I did trust Everleigh, even if I was still waiting for either of them to explain what was going on and why we were in a weird room. As for another pair? The only other accessible telepath/empath combinations I could think of were Zacharias and Sebastian, or Sebastian and Everleigh, and I had no way of knowing how long it would take to get either of those pairs together again.

  “All right,” I said. “Fix my brain.”

  Ever and Matilda nodded once to each other, and closed in on me sitting in the chair. The quill shuddered anxiously.

  Ten, twelve, thirteen and a half seconds they stared.

  “Stop counting,” Matilda instructed.

  “I can’t,” I said. “It just happens.”

  Everleigh sighed deeply, and in doing so, I felt my body relax against the comfortable chair. The numbers stopped, and why did I feel so good? I didn’t think it was possible to feel so good, except after an incredible cookie. I could have used a good cookie right about then. I missed V. I really ought to stop thinking about cookies with a telepath in my head.

  Matilda side-eyed Everleigh. Everleigh sighed again.

  The numbers had stopped, and now so did the circling thoughts. Everleigh tempered me through empathy until I was blank, staring ahead, seeing but not really. I don’t remember feeling anything anymore, or thinking anything anymore. I was there, but I wasn’t, unaware of any other state while I was stuck in that one.

  Later, Matilda and Ever told me the whole process took about three hours, and when they were done, I felt like myself again. Or at least, I hoped I felt like myself again. How could I be sure? Do feel like myself now? I didn’t know then. I don’t know now. What’s important is: they watched on expectantly, waiting for me to say:

  “Zacharias Vonsinfonie.”