Chapter 25

Evangeline

EVANGELINE SNUCK DOWN the stairs into the living room and found Quan on the couch. Awake.

“Going somewhere?” He took a swig out of a fist-sized leather canister in his hand. He hissed, his face crumpling like a piece of paper.

“Drinking your sorrows away? Wouldn’t have taken you for that kind of man,” she said, hoping the loose button-down, tied and tucked into her sagging pants, didn’t detract from her intimidating stance. Oh, who was she kidding? She looked like she could only break a stick.

To no surprise, he scowled. “I don’t drink.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Answer the question.”

She was tempted to just give him an inappropriate hand gesture and move along, but she didn’t need him hoisting her back up the stairs.

“I’m going to sit on the porch. I need some fresh air . . . away from Lani.” That wasn’t a total lie. “Is that a problem?”

Judging by his face, it was, but he didn’t move from the couch. Xilo’s coat hung by the back door, and she slipped it on. If his coat was here, it meant he was sleeping upstairs. Or pretending to, at least.

“If you try to run, you won’t get far.”

She rolled her eyes. “I spitting know that, Quan. Thanks for stating the obvious.” She cast another look at his leather decanter. He said it wasn’t alcohol, and knowing anyone from Barto’s group, they wouldn’t take something that would inhibit their fighting skills, not with the current tense atmosphere. Saliver, supposedly, was common practice within the Atiacan empire. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch, would it?

“Is that a flask of concentrated saliver?” she asked.

His slitted pupils widened a fraction before pinching together. He didn’t reply, but it was answer enough for her. Interesting.

Without waiting for a proper response, she left out the back.

Xilo’s coat was large and lined with thick white fur. It didn’t erase the cold, but it helped keep it at bay. The painted green floorboards looked like they would break if she stayed in one place for too long. She brushed off snow and dirt from the chair that looked less sturdy than the floor, but she took her chances anyways and sat in it.

Can you hear me?

Evangeline jumped and played it off by snuggling into the coat. Yes. Her breath billowed out in hot steam in front of her. She took a few more breaths, watching the puffs of clouds vanish.

Good thing you’re sitting, because what I’m about to tell you . . . well . . . you’re going to be tempted to call me a liar, but it’s the truth.

Just tell me already.

His Highness, Prince Sehn LuRogue, is dead. Has been dead for years now. The man you’ve seen and talked to wasn’t him but Aimee Hysander—one of our beloved Council members.

Disbelief struck her, and Raiythlen was right; she was tempted to call him a liar. The idea was too . . . impossible. You’re lying, and why not? You’ve done it to me before. But then an image of Sehn, his high cheekbones, blood-red wings, and stormy gray eyes like his father, came to mind. The uncharacteristic smile he’d given her at dinner all those nights ago. The feel of his cold fingers on her cheek as he tucked a white, blossoming flower in her hair from the main hall’s garden before parting with her, his chilling words echoing in her head as he left.  

“There are monsters lurking in every dark corner,” he had told her. The realization of it all was a sharp blow to her gut. Had Sehn—the Council—known about the Wretched and what was happening in the west wing all along?

Evangeline remembered the soreness of the saddle biting into her legs and the taste of snow at the back of her throat as she crashed onto the ground, surrounded by Casters in the middle of the Olaaga forest. That ambush, the Caster in Ryker’s suite, and the one that had attacked her at the plaza, had they all been sent here by the Council? Did they want her for her marking as well?

Raiythlen pretended as if she hadn’t spoken. The only way this could get any worse is if my sister was involved, but thankfully, I don’t think Avana is aware. At least if she was, maybe we’d be on the same side again. She hates the Council more than anything.

A memory of her and Avana’s conversation spoken in the middle of the night, far from the castle and its city walls, drifted into her mind. Avana mentioned she had worked for the Council and Evangeline got the impression there was a good reason she no longer did. I don’t understand. If Sehn is dead and this . . . Caster is taking his place, why sign a treaty? Why feign an alliance when a real one could be had?

He didn’t reply right away, and the howling wind added to the dark atmosphere and her growing dread. If a Caster—no, a Council Member—was pretending to be Sehn . . . what did that mean for Ceven? She had to tell him.

Power. Curiosity. Control. All of the above. We’ve always been the strongest country until this . . . disease started happening. Then Peredia proved to be a problem, and my guess is that the Council wanted in on it. But our Council works for the people. If they wanted to make such a political move, they needed to be sneaky—to hide from their own country what they were really doing. Even I didn’t know, and still wouldn’t know, if I had never taken the mission to track you down, which I only did to stop my sister from doing the very same thing our own Council is doing.

Evangeline shook her head. This was why she hated politics.

And it gets worse, he continued. Humans have no rights here, unlike in Sundise Mouche. I haven’t found any proof, but my theory is that they’re going to ship humans to Sundise Mouche from here and secretly continue the process of what’s happening in the west wing. That way, the Council doesn’t alert the public to what they’re doing, and they get access to this power at the same time.

All her fantasies of maybe traveling to Sundise Mouche in the future melted away. She would never find out if ships really flew in the air, or if pictures danced across flat surfaces. Nowhere is safe, it seems. At least for a human.

All of this because of your mark, he said. This magic. This is why it shouldn’t exist, why I burned all of Anali’s journals. It corrupts people, promises things that aren’t going to end well.

You said it opens a link between people’s souls. She’d always wondered what her tattoo meant, and now that the answers were unfolding before her, she wished she could forget. Or better yet, that she had no part in this. Why am I not affected?

That, I don’t know.

Evangeline told him Avana’s theory: that she had been sent forward in time, that these hallucinations she was experiencing were memories. If it was true, maybe she could figure out more about her mark and who she was by triggering these hallucinations. To see why she was sent forward in time in the first place. If it somehow tied to what was happening in the present.

Raiythlen had the same reaction Evangeline did when Avana had first told her. He laughed, the sound rumbling through their connection. Evangeline clutched her coat tighter and pursed her lips. This must be how Avana felt.

Then explain why I remember your grandmother, who died long before they brought me to Peredia. How I ended up with a mark on my hand that dates back centuries ago, she retorted.

He didn’t, because he couldn’t.

I knew Anali and her team of people had done multiple experiments back in their day, he admitted. They earned quite the reputation. Maybe you were a product of one of them. She imagined him shrugging, as if this entire conversation wasn’t as crazy as it was. In that time, many humans worked with Caster magic and technology to enhance themselves. As for time travel, I’ve never heard of anything like that. I don’t even know where she got that idea.

Evangeline confessed to their travels to the ruin where she was found, the odd Shadow Door, and the journal stored in the blood-locked safe. Raiythlen went silent.

For a long time.

You still there? she had to ask.

I don’t know what information is in that journal, but let’s hope it doesn’t damn us any more than we are now.

Another roil of wind snapped through. I’m freezing; are there any more bombs you’d like to drop on me?

She imagined him smirking. Not at this time. And you never gave me an honest answer.

On what?

On whether you’d like to be my partner.

It was her turn to laugh. Not even a little.

Even if I gave you the means to escape Xilo and Quan?

She shut her mouth. It’s the least you could do after what you put me through. What I’m still dealing with, without your help.

She expected him to make her an offer. Of whisking her away to a safe place like he did in the past—though now she knew it was for ulterior motives. But he surprised her. Again.

I am sorry about that. I’d offer to get you and Lani out of here, but you’re safer with your Aerian prince and his lackies. It seems I was just a backup plan for the Council. Now, I’m a loose end. He sighed through their connection. I need to go deal with that—and have a pleasant chat with my sister. Maybe she won’t try to kill me this time.

Well, try not to die, I guess. Her lips twitched. What about helping me escape?

Don’t worry, I’ve already left a few things for you in the bedside table upstairs.

She shook her head. It was no surprise he’d already thought of everything ahead of time.

Take care of yourself and Lani, he continued. I’ll be back to find you. When I can.

Raiythlen left, and Evangeline rolled up her sleeve. The Caster symbol was already fading. She remembered the mark she had removed and wondered how the Caster was going to track her down again . . . unless he neglected to tell her she had another mark somewhere she hadn’t found yet. Knowing Raiythlen, she did, the bastard. He seemed to always have a plan, and even then, a backup plan. She scowled, though she was grateful for the information and finally some means to get back to Petri and the others.

Crunch, crunch, crunch!

Her head jerked up. Maybe it was Raiythlen coming back to tell her something? But he wouldn’t have made a sound.

Her heart sank when two tall figures emerged in the distance. Evangeline ducked to the floor, but it was too late. They saw her.

And were heading straight towards her.