Thea took my side, holding her breath just as I did, as Quill reached a hand out toward him, and he took it. And then they walked together. Side by side. Pacing still, but together, with a little dog following.
“That’s… surprising,” Thea whispered.
“I know you don’t know him, but I’m telling you, he will be a balm for her. Once he finds himself again, he will be her joy.” I straightened, an idea forming. “In your room, in the chest at the foot of your bed, there’s a red dress, and under that on top of a stack of notebooks, there’s a deck of cards. Will you go grab it? I know what we’re going to do tonight.”
We needed fun. We needed to find a normal. We definitely didn’t need to discuss weird voices I’d absolutely just heard in my head, coated in a power that hadn’t actually left me.
6
Paesha
He was smiling. There was still sadness behind his eyes, a crinkle at the corner that may permanently be there for Harlow, but Archer was beaming at Quill as she flipped over the Maid Marian card and giggled. She was there too. Not an ounce of the kid that was out of control, angry and suffering, but instead the little girl that flew into my arms when she was only two years old, and again a hundred days later when I’d finally put down my walls to let her in. This was home. Family. Where we weren’t perfect, but we were figuring it out and leaning on each other instead of the outside world that would sooner see us burn than thrive.
Elowen sat with me on the couch, a steaming cup of tea in her hands as usual, with her eyes closed as she breathed in a feeling of peace I was sure she hadn’t felt in a while.
“How’d you land here in the Syndicate house, of all places, Fingers?” Archer asked, shuffling the cards.
I narrowed my eyes, mostly at the damn nickname. “That’s a long story, Toes.”
“You don’t have to chisel it onto stone, you know. Simply move your mouth and make some sound.”
It felt a little strange. Even though I’d brought him here, opening up about my past with Archer was odd. Like it was somehow giving him a part of me that was only mine. Still, I answered, forcing myself to let go. “You have to understand a few things about Requiem before I can give you the whole story. Requiem is only two cities, Perth and Silbath. They each had a ruling king at this time last year, but really, the only thing dividing the space is the Hallowed River.”
“Really irrelevant to your story,” Thea said, gathering the cards spread on the coffee table as she sat cross-legged on the floor. She wiggled her shoulders, and Archer and I exchanged a look.
“You’d be a terrible gambler, Thea. You always give away your hand.”
She wrinkled her nose, pressing the cards to her chest. “I do not.”
Archer smirked. “I bet you have at least five cards higher than five.”
“How much do you bet?” she asked innocently.
Archer reached forward and pretended to pull a brass button from Quill’s ear. I’d seen him pop it off his jacket seconds before, and wondered what he was up to, but I hadn’t predicted a parlor trick. He flipped it in the air, caught it and set it down in front of her. “One button.”
Thea slid her hand over the button, studied the odd markings, and then closed it in her fist. Her eyes twinkled as she used her power then opened her palm to show Archer, letting the brass necklace fall from her fingers onto the table.
“Hey!” Archer stood from his spot on the floor and lifted the necklace, staring at the small chain in the light. “How’d you—” he spun to me. “You could have mentioned that.”
“It wasn’t my secret to share.”
Quill leaned onto the table with her elbows. “Thea has the best collection of weapons you’ve ever seen. But she won’t let anyone use them.”
“Especially not you,” she said, tapping Quill on the nose. “I joined the Syndicate house when I was probably twenty-five. My older grandparents raised me, and they both had their one-hundredth year celebration and then I was on my own.” She flipped her whole hand, fanning the cards out on the table. “I love shiny jewelry as much as the next girl, but you can have your button back. Seems unfair to take it.”
She smothered the necklace in her hand and revealed the original button before flipping it to Archer. He swiped it out of the air and tossed it back. “A deal’s a deal. But if you can make buttons, can’t you make coin?”
She snorted. “If I had a desire, I’d try harder, but one, it never works because our coin is made from really fragile compound metals and it usually disintegrates. And two, if people thought I could make money, they’d hunt and enslave me. I’ve done that once before and I have no desire to ever go back. But I’m pretty sure we were talking about Paesha’s past and not mine.”
“I was explaining how Requiem used to be before,” I waved my hand toward the door, “all of that. Requiem has always been a place of depravity and rot, honestly. Some were wealthier, sure, but not like the Silk back in Stirling. Everyone struggled. Except a select few. When my father lost our home, he turned to the only crime lord in the city. The Maestro. And the Maestro had magic. He could bind you to him with a deal and you were stuck forever.
“He wanted to collect me since I was a child. As soon as he learned about my power, he tried. And at first, I was too young to become his. But as I grew, I learned. My mom left when I was too young to remember, and I loved my father, but he was nothing more than a pawn for the Maestro to move around until he couldget to me. He introduced my father to opioids and found reasons for him to stay in the dens. I was alone on the streets by the time I was eight.
“I used to sneak into the ballet for warmth. And I’d lie on the balcony and watch the dancers. The Maestro was trying to win me over when I was too young to be trapped in a bargain with him, so he secured me a spot in her school. Madame Fourth taught me everything. I loved her like I’d never loved anyone in my life. Ballet gave me my first true experience with human connection.”
I sat back on the couch, wondering when the last time I thought of that old woman was. Why I’d let her go from my mind. But then I knew the answer. There was so much pain wrapped in those memories, it was easier to forget.
“That’s why you dance?” Archer asked, his card game forgotten.
