I left Oskari the day after Rhian’s birthday party, returned to my cabin, and slept for an irresponsible amount of time. But when I finally returned to the village—the next day?—the day after?—everyone was accounted for and nobody was panicking. That afternoon, I watched Rhian do slow laps around the church grounds for just under forty seven minutes, and later, from outside the window, I watched her do the same thing indoors. What was she looking for?
And why did she have bruises on her arms and scratches on her face?
I’d have to find out some other way.
I scurried around back and made my way to the roof of the church, peering over the courtyard, where Michael was holding a self-defense class for the village kids. I remember it being a sunny day, rare for Amalia, and Strauss was huddled under a tree in a patch of shade, squinting. From the roof, I waited and waited—twenty-seven minutes until the kids were gone and my mates were finally alone. I tilted my ear toward them.
“Hey, so—think you could perform the binding ceremony tomorrow?” Michael asked.
“So soon?”
“Yeah, Helena and I really think it’s best. She’ll request a Legacy posting here in Oskari or at the Drop, and I’d get to stay with her.” Michael hoisted Intrepidity against his shoulder, glanced left, and then to Strauss again. Generally, he seemed nervous, and that really wasn’t one of his natural states. “Strauss, she might be pregnant.”
“Well, that’s…”
Impossible, for one. Poor Michael.
Michael shifted his weight to the right, and his nod was noncommittal. “Yeah. She and I were both raised initially by our parents in stable settings, and if we're both posted here, or wherever else together, we might be able to convince Faust to let us raise him or her until conscription. You can’t talk me out of it. It just makes sense.”
“I suppose it does.”
“So, tomorrow?”
Strauss hesitated, but he nodded. “Tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” Michael turned to leave, but then he stopped. “Do you know if Rhian has had any luck finding the entrance to the crypt?”
Strauss shook his head, and Michael shrugged.
So, RAM was looking for the entrance to a crypt somewhere in the vicinity of the church—the very same crypt I’d been creeping in every night for the past weeks—and my sister was looking for a way in. Which could only mean one thing, mates:
She’d find it.
Knowing RAM was hot on the trail of the Anima network and Zacharias, I had to double down on a few things I should have been doing while I was sleeping, so I booked it to Jaska for some shopping.
Things I Procured Immediately in Jaska:
? A fur-lined leather jacket and a knit hat with a fuzzy ball. It was getting cold.
? Fabric scraps from Vivienne for curtains.
? A hammer and some nails.
? A broom.
? Flowers.
? Sandpaper.
? Wood polish.
The rug was proving a challenge. I couldn’t wait for a custom order, but there was no way I was getting Zacharias to move in without it. I had an idea though, and I stopped by the brothel first. I missed my job at the bar, and I missed my mates, but I didn’t have time to lament about it, so I found Tanis and asked if she had any spare rugs stashed away anywhere. Sadly she was fresh out.
That really only left me with one option in a pinch, and I wasn’t thrilled about it, but—I made my way to the Jaskar. I needed to find Everleigh for something else, anyhow.
I wasn’t dressed the part, but it didn’t ultimately matter, because when I got there, the Jaskar was closed. The stained glass windows flickered with firelight behind them, so I knocked on the door.
Ten, twelve, nineteen seconds. Derek answered the door.
We both smiled quickly, but they faded just as fast.
I wasn’t prepared for that encounter—not that there hadn’t been a chance Derek would be there, but typically my sexual relations with people were established straightaway for what they were: casual, no feelings. That One Time in Delphia, I’d almost had a boyfriend, but we knew how that would end, and I didn’t have to see him again.
I knew I wasn’t over Derek, but I had to be over Derek.
“Hey,” he said.
“’Lo, mate. Is Everleigh in?”
“Uh—yeah, she’s in her office.” He motioned me inside before closing and locking the door behind us. “But can we talk?”
“I’m actually in a bit of a hurry,” I said.
Derek nodded, momentarily fixating on the broom in my hand.
After giving him a quick smile, I walked toward the back of the lounge.
“I miss you,” he blurted.
I stopped, briefly, but I didn't turn. I couldn't. “I miss you, too."
And that’s all there was to that.
I made my way down to the basement.
After three knocks and forty-seven seconds, Everleigh answered the door.
“Oh,” she said. “It’s you.”
“Can I come in?”
“I guess.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Everleigh closed and locked her office door behind me, promptly removing the false painting of a rose she’d planted on top of the painting of Sebastian.
“What do you want.”
“A rug.”
“What makes you think I’d have a rug.”
“Thought you might have one stashed somewhere, a spare from the lounge or—”
“Well, I do.”
“Can I have it?”
“What’s it for.”
“I need a plate for the Strawberry Rhubarb Pie otherwise there’ll be crumbs everywhere.”
“Why is your brain still broken.”
“I’m a busy man.”
Everleigh rolled her eyes. “Tell Derek to fetch your rug. I don’t have time.”
I looked around the musty smelling office, but nothing especially urgent seemed to be happening. Her desk was organized, and her violin case was leaning up against it. “Everything all right? You seem saucier than usual today.”
“What does that even mean. Why am I in sauce. Why won’t you stop talking about food even when you don’t have to.”
“Can I borrow your violin?”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Are you a musician now, too.”
“Aye, I’m such a good musician,” I said. “Look, I can’t tell you why.”
“Why not.”
“Because I literally can’t, Everleigh.”
I guess I was feeling saucier than usual that day, too.
“Oh. Is this about Zack?”
I nodded.
“Fine, but I need it back for my sets at the Gander.” Everleigh walked over to her violin case and collected it, handing it over with her arm outstretched.
I grabbed the handle. “Thanks, mate.”
“Whatever,” she said. “I better not regret this.”
I returned to the lounge with my overstuffed satchel, my cloth shopping bag, my broom, and Everleigh’s violin case. Derek was sitting at the bar. I told him what I needed, and we walked to the storage room together. Derek swung the door open and gestured inward.
“Your choices are black, black, or black,” he said.
“No black, though?” I replied, peering into the storage room full of dusty, black decor and a few broken, black chairs. “Because I really had my heart set on black.”
“Sir—there’s no need to get hostile. I’m truly sorry, but I’m afraid we only have black.”
I smiled, and he smiled. We'd usually kiss after sharing a dumb bit, but instead it was weird. I stepped into storage to pick up the rolled up rug—which I definitely could (not) manage with my bag, my broom, and Everleigh’s violin.
“Do you want some help carrying that?” Derek asked.
If I agreed, I’d have to take him to the cabin. But I couldn’t do that, because I was soon going to have a house guest, and I needed that house guest feeling safe and not worrying about a random but devastatingly handsome man with gorgeous eyes showing up at our door.
“Aye—no, I’m good, mate. Thanks. Just help load me up?”
Look, the whole affair was awkward and ridiculous, and by the time I left the Jaskar, I had my bags around my shoulders, the rug hoisted across the back of my neck, the broom in one hand, and Everleigh’s violin case in the other.
I had to exit sideways.
Back at the cabin, I repaired the loose floorboard, swept, nailed up the curtains, laid down the rug, and started my hand at polishing the interior wood. That took me a few hours, and though I wasn’t finished, it was nightfall and I had someone to pester. I stowed the violin under the bed and left for the crypt to fetch Zack.
A Night in the Cabin With Zack - Entry Log #3
“I asked for black, but unfortunately all they had was black.”
“A vast improvement, regardless.”
“What do you say? Move in with me?”
“No.”
“Well, I thought you might say that, and I’m prepared to counter your, ‘No,’ with a proposition.”
“I’m listening.”
“If my sister finds you within the next,” I paused for dramatic effect, “three days, without me telling her where you are, then you have to wake up permanently and come live with me.”
“No.”
“Come on, Strawberry Rhubarb Pie, you’re a numbers man—like me. We love a good gamble.”
“I don’t think you truly understand what you’re asking.”
“And I don’t think you truly understand what you’re missing.”
“...Within three days?”
“Three days.”
“No telling?”
“I can’t tell, remember?”
“Is your sister looking for me already?”
“No.”
“Does she have any imminent plans to look for me?”
“No.”
“Has she visited the underground?”
“No.”
“Is she aware of the underground?”
“No.”
“Does she have any allies, other than yourself, who would divulge my location?”
“No.”
"Then why do you have such faith she'll find me—enough to place a wager?"
"You'll understand when you meet her."
"And if you lose?"
"Then you can go back to your nap, and I promise I'll leave you alone forever."
“…”
“…”
“She must find me within two days, Feargus Finlay, and you have a deal.”
After tucking Zack back into his coffin in the crypt, I knew I was taking a big risk doing what I did next, but it had to be done. I reached into my bag and pulled out the bouquet of white lilies, laying them at the base of Zacharias’s stone slab. Aye, I’d promised I wouldn’t tell, but I didn’t say anything about not showing.
I didn’t want to leave anything behind that my mates could trace back to me, and I reckoned the flowers would remain in good enough condition for the next few days, and would alert RAM that a) someone had been there recently, b) that particular casket was important, and c) there had to be another entrance.
Once I’d laid the flowers down, I waited around the corner for over half an hour to make sure Zacharias wasn’t secretly waking up without me. And when he didn’t, I left.
Dawn hadn’t quite cracked when I returned to Oskari to find Helena and Michael sitting at the pond outside The House. I had to be especially careful around her, but fortunately the house backed up against a stretch of dense trees, and while I couldn’t see them from there, I could hear them.
“—should tell them,” Michael said.
“We can’t,” Helena replied. “Sinclair hates me as it is.”
“Can you blame her after what happened?”
“She hated me before that, and that wasn’t my fault—I don’t know what came over me.”
“Yeah…” Michael hesitated. “Okay. Well, I’m going to do everything I can to help you, and as of right now, nobody has any idea. I don’t even think they suspect it.”
“I was worried she would—the cut on my arm.”
“That was close, Helena. If she hadn’t been so angry, she may have—she might still figure it out, actually. I felt so bad for making her feel worse…”
“I’m sorry,” she said, and in typical Varis fashion, it was curt, and cold.
But then, after the eight seconds of silence between them passed, Helena Varis started crying.
So, Michael knew about Helena the whole time and was protecting her—from herself, and from the rest of us.
I promised you secrets and gossip, mates.
How's that one for you?