Jinx
horse, tying the reins around a tree branch. There it was: the Archives.
Everything she had dreamt of and longed for was just within her reach, a hair’s length away from being her reality. It could all be over so soon.
Jinx drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her body’s jitters.
She was like a dog with a bone—salivating and impatient.
The answer was in there somewhere; she knew it in her core. She could feel the well of magic within her flaring, responding to what lay within the Archives.
Footfalls crunched beside her as Apollo stepped into view, hands in his pockets.
The Archives were carved into the side of the lowest peak of the Northern summit, just around the bend of a soundless stream. To the naked eye, the entrance appeared to be little more than a measly hole, just big enough to fit a single person if they shuffled in sideways. It blended in with the rest of the cave incredibly well, to the point where anyone who didn’t know to look for it would walk right past it.
“In all of my life, I never could have expected that the Archives for the city would be hidden within the belly of a mountain,” Jinx commented, nervously counting the myriad blades that were tucked within the crevices of her suit. They were all secured in their spots.
“That’s the point.” Apollo fished for his pocket watch, toying with the buttons on the rim.
He was nervous, too. As stoic as he seemed, stone-faced and serious, his hands betrayed him. Jinx knew that she had asked a lot of Apollo. He is taking a greater risk than her right now. It was treason for him and just another crime on her long list. If they were caught, no matter who they were, a twin pair of nooses would be roped around their necks faster than they could blink.
Jinx cracked her fingers, calling on that pool of power deep within her body. Her skin cooled as her muscles started heating up. Green flames licked at her skin as she whipped up a false identity, tailoring her appearance to match that of Apollo’s father. The height, the sway of his graying hair, the folding wrinkles beside his eyes.
“It’s a little jarring, but it’s not half bad,” Apollo said as he circled her, inspecting her carefully crafted work, the sear of his eyes boring into her. “Remember the plan and don’t stray from it, no matter what. Our time limit is an hour; we have no minutes to waste. You start looking in the front, I’ll go toward the back, and we’ll work our way to the middle. Look for anything that might be a hint towards the riddle, perhaps a newspaper with similar words or a scroll that matches a hint of the riddle.”
Jinx and Apollo walked shoulder to shoulder down into the mouth of the mountain, night consuming whatever light was able to sneak in from the outside world. They followed a row of lit torches drilled into the ribcage of the hallway.
As they delved deeper, the earthy scent of wet rock intensified, and the temperature significantly dropped, sending chills down Jinx’s back. She glanced over at Apollo, whose face had settled into the deadpan he classically wore.
A line of guards posted along the walkway slammed their feet and saluted as she and Apollo ambled by. Golden helmets covered their eyes. They were clothed in blue and white uniforms, with bayonets strapped by their sides, indicating that they were high-ranking officers; the sight of them reminded her of a friend she had when she infiltrated the military years ago.
Apollo had explained beforehand that there was only one entrance and exit to the Archives. If they needed to find an escape route for whatever reason, their options were slim to none. Certainly, Jinx couldn’t knock out an entire militia on her own. She’d damn well try, though—if it came to that.
As they approached the massive bronze gate, Jinx noticed copper columns plunging through the mountain. Apollo took a sharp right turn, directly facing a stone barricade. He fished around for a chain beneath his shirt and brought out the sigil into view, swinging it between his fingers.
Four sentries formed a barrier between him and the door in front of them. Apollo took a deep breath and recited the sacred words of the Archives: “In the city of dreams, to be the minister of economy is to hold the key to prosperity, to command the tides of wealth and steer its citizens to the light. Archives of treasure open the doors, unleash the history and knowledge that rest within, and guide us toward the future.”
It was a pledge his father imbedded in his mind, almost an anthem to prove one’s loyalty as the Seven to the Archives.
Jinx bowed her head as Apollo instructed. The sentries nodded and pushed open the door to another chamber.
A single circular chandelier swung low, hovering above a podium, which in turn rested at the center of a large dais. A rickety woman smacked her lips together, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Voclaine,” she murmured, drawing out the second syllable.
The creases of her skin looked worn and wise; she was not a woman to be messed with.
“Keeper,” Apollo bowed.
With sharp scrutiny, she looked down at them from the height of her podium. “What is your business here?”
Apollo plucked an official document from the inside of his jacket. He climbed up the steps of the dais, spreading the document across the top of the podium. “We’ve come to drop deposits into the tier two vault worth twenty-five thousand Marcs. On Father’s most recent business trip, he received a gift from the King and his prophets as a sign of respect.”
Jinx tucked her hand into her pocket, swiftly conjuring a gold necklace in the palm of her hand. The opal gem in the center was thick and heavy, outlined by a trail of gleaming diamonds. Jinx dangled it by the clasp and placed the priceless item under the eyes of the Keeper.
The Keeper sniffed it as if she were a hound. Jinx ground her molars, holding her breath.
“What else?” the woman asked. Surely, they were here for more than just a deposit. Jinx glued her mouth shut, as Apollo had assured her earlier that he knew how to get them access.
The tone of Apollo’s voice was as thick and sweet as honey. “Since we made the trip, we’ll also be conducting a swift quarterly audit.”
The Keeper stared at Apollo and studied Jinx before splaying the only book on the dais wide open. She dropped the feathered pen in front of them. “Sign.” Jinx quietly exhaled.
Apollo dipped the pen into an inkwell and scratched his name on the next available line, right above the date and time.
Jinx ascended the dais, joining Apollo. There was a minute tremble in her hand as she picked up the pen, mimicking the hand motions of a scrawl as she conjured a copy of the Duke’s signature from a few bars above. She’d practiced this maneuver during the ride, studying useless documents that Apollo had handed to her, all containing his father’s signature. Her hand still hurt from repeating the process over and over as they rode.
The book had signatures dating back to eight years ago. Skimming the seals between, there was one she took mental note of before reeling back.
The Keeper eyed Jinx before twirling the book back to her and snapping it shut. She motioned her thumb behind her to the heavy bronze door on the left, its edges crusted with age and jagged sediment.
A throng of sentries crowded around them, two-stepping in front and jutting their hands out. Apollo shook off his coat and emptied his pockets. Jinx followed his lead. She camouflaged her knives under a coat of illusions, making them appear as nothing more than trinkets and Marcs and then tossing them into a basket away from her. Meanwhile, the guards approached them to pat down their figures, feeling for weapons.
Once they were deemed clean, Jinx’s disguised knives were returned, along with her coat.
Apollo dug the S into the keyhole, gears turning and unlocking as he turned the key. The sentries gripped the handlebars and hauled open the massive door.
Ushering in Jinx, he closed the door behind them. “Okay, you’re safe.”
Jinx unmasked herself. “What is the point of the Keeper? Honestly, if I’d known where the Archives were located years ago, I would have been able to infiltrate this place on my own.”
“That’s what you think. You’d have probably continued walking straight toward those bronze bars, but if you go through them, you would have found yourself in the depths of a labyrinth with no escape. Let’s say, however, that you did find the proper door and did meet the Keeper. Even then, without this key—and remember, there are only eight of them—you wouldn’t be able to get to the vault.”
“How come?”
“This key contains my blood, as the others contain the blood of their own. Any replica wouldn’t have that, so it wouldn’t work,” Apollo said. “Also, this isn’t the only Archive that exists. They are all hidden in different parts of the city and outside of it. This one, however, is the biggest.”
Jinx took mental note of this new information. A glint of gold shimmered in her eye as it reflected the ocean of wealth. She cast her gaze toward the riches, too awestruck to say anything.
Before them were hills of rolling gold and silver, stretched as far as the eye could see. The metallic scent of Marcs lingered in the air. The rest of the space was adorned with paintings and shelves upon shelves of books, filled with everything from folklore to histories. Jewels and gems of every color glittering under the dimly lit candelabras. It was the essence of wealth distilled into one cave.
Apollo rolled his sleeves up to his forearms. “We’re losing time.”
Jinx sniffed and dug into the materials in front of them, unfolding scrolls and skimming through books. In her mind, she kept repeating the same damn riddle:
In the table where five once sat, now sit four
No matter how much you believe, our minds still deceive
It’s a punishment for seeking the truth
Knit from people’s worst desires
One who seeks is bound to bloom
Apollo turned over the paintings, splitting the canvases from their frames and checking inside to see if anything was hiding behind them. Jinx continued to devour a mass of scrolls one by one. She was close; she could feel it. Her intuition thrust her forward.
“Find anything?” she called, her voice ricocheting off the cavernous chamber.
A head of dark, raven hair popped up behind a wave of gold. “No.” Coins clinked and spilled behind him. “I know you said to perhaps search for a newspaper or a scroll, but is there anything else that may be an answer? Perhaps more specific of what to look for in these scrolls? You said a phrase. However, we could search for an adjective, a verb, an adverb…”
Jinx recited the riddle to Apollo and then gave him an answer: “A name.”
“That’s a noun, temptress.”
“I know.” Pinching the bridge of her nose. “Maybe the answer could very well be a name. To think about it, in Camilla’s painting there are technically five figures, but only four have a name; there is only one that is unknown. If the riddle is tied to the painting, the answer could very well be the name of the figure. In the third line, it states: It’s a punishment for seeking truth, speaking of someone who had been punished.”
Apollo’s mask slipped for only a moment before nodding and going back to his hunt.
Shoving her hand back into the chest, Jinx found a broken scroll with half of the paper missing, the rest of its sagging paper whirling down in jagged curls.
Planting herself on the ground, she picked up a nearby gem and pinned down one side of the scroll as she rolled it out. Immediately, she recognized drawings depicting the tale of the Virtues.
The Virtues were the children of the Celestial Architect, Aurorix. Aurorix had crowned each of his four children a unique gift to help him maintain balance and harmony in the universe that he had created. Upon his death, his kin would be in charge of sustaining the cosmos.
The Virtues in this drawing were each holding their gifts: Elu cradled rays of the sun; Esme played her harp; Fortuna sat with a wealth of Marcs and a golden spear; Akuji spread out his black wings, clutching coiled sickles to his chest.
And above the Virtues floated a thick, black book.
Elu, Esme, Akuji, and Fortuna each resided over their own court in the divine realm and also ruled over different pieces of land, using their abilities to help the mortal creatures below them. Elu tended to the necessities of life and nature so that life may prosper. Esme bestowed love and fertility. Fortuna shared wealth and opportunities. And Akuji guided the recently departed to the land of the underworld.
There was also the unconquered portion of their realm: a place called the Pandemonium. It was a place of sins.
Memory seemed to have failed her as she faintly remembered a mention of the Pandemonium. Jinx unfurled the scroll further, revealing more of the story. Drawings and words unveiling.
Jinx careened back as this information was new to her, never once heard from passed-down stories. At this point, the Hall of Judgment came into view, with its open ceiling ushering in the stars. Each Virtue sits at their assigned chair, representing their court.
Akuji dug his curved sickle into the table, his harsh face clearly arguing against Elu, who kept her high chin poised away from his. Vines clawed into Akuji, holding back his black feathered wings. An empty chair sat beside him.
What part of the story was this? Jinx had no memory of ever hearing it.
An empty chair. In the table where five once sat, now sit four.
The story went on to show tall arches looming over the four Virtues, who were circling a box. Runes that Jinx had seen once before were drawn above them. An electrifying storm barreled into the box, bright runes fusing into its sides. Jinx devoured the words inked onto the scroll. Unraveling a scene of an imprisonment. A figure banished. A punishment for seeking truth.
And there, beside Elu, was a white and pink pistil flower, barely budding. One who seeks is bound to bloom.
Jinx’s stomach sank.
The final piece of the scroll had been ripped out, torn from its origin. She felt the frayed edges, a sensation of energy tickling her fingers. Faint traces of magic imbued into the scroll, missing a limb. Yet wanting to tell the story, begging to be heard. Its sweet, intrusive scent captured Jinx’s nose, beelining for her brain. A sharp migraine pulsed at her temple. Webbing behind her eyes, flashing images of times unseen. Incomplete and broken, yet just enough to make conclusions.
The rest of the scroll unfurled before her. Of a box with runes and a man imprisoned. A strange amnesia gripping the minds of all, done by a stunning male with constellations burned into the line of his spine, purposefully taking the remembrance of a certain chaos. An abrupt arrival of a box to Somnium thousands of years ago waiting to be released. Curiosity of a scientist unleashing a flood of magic and a plague to follow behind. The wandering of a creature in a thicket of looming trees, leaving behind its confinement and retribution in its heart. A man turned monster. And a city destroyed at the feet of the Vessel. Death and destruction in the near future.
Somnium, life, vanishing from existence as if it never existed to begin with. An extinction so grand all knowledge would be lost.
Jinx would never forget the lettering of the runes engraved on that wooden box.
Nor the creature that had she had come face to face within the Woodlands.
No matter how much you believe, our minds still deceive. There was a part of their history that had been taken from the memories of the people. The tales that built Somnium.
She felt her teeth start chattering. Jinx fell on her ass, shivering. Blinking the magic away, and the scroll slipped from Jinx’s frozen fingers. Apollo was instantly at her side.
Jinx’s eyes were glued on the depiction of the Virtues and the unruly court prowling behind. The Pandemonium has been a court of unruled madness, a place of sins. Where the members of the court disposed of their worst desires and acted upon them. Havoc welcomed them and ordered them exiled. Perhaps it was not necessarily a place of untamed civilians, but it had always been missing a Virtue. A ruler. Then there was that empty space by Akuji. The faded body from the museum’s painting. The scratched face from the picture in the Tertain attic. Perhaps the artist was unable to draw it in the first place because they couldn’t remember the features themselves.
“It’s one thing,” she uttered.
“What?”
“Polly, we are searching for the same thing.” She pointed to the scroll, urging him to read it. “My riddle and your Vessel.”
The Vessel must have been a prison for the figure from Camilla’s painting, the missing Virtue. The one Elu and the others exiled from their lands. And the creature wanted to explain why in the riddle given to Jinx. What did the creature find that it had been punished for seeking truth? Something grand enough the Virtues took the initiative of banishing one of their own.
The book drawn by Akuji’s side was oddly similar to the one on Apollo’s shelf.
A clink jerked her back to the present moment. Apollo dropped the scroll in a similar manner Jinx did. He saw the images, too. Squeezing his eyes shut, pushing the magic from his mind. Wrinkles crease on his forehead, showing his distaste. “Why is this the only mention of the Vessel? That was the Vessel in that memory, Wasn’t it? How did this scroll survive?” he questioned after examining the scroll front and back.
“I don’t know. But I do know who could have ripped the other half out.” She thought back to the book of signatures with the Keeper and the familiar name of the person who’d visited just before them: V’Yockovitch. What purpose would he play in doing this? Jinx couldn’t understand his drive in ripping out a scroll that dated back thousands of years and a forgotten Virtue.
Just then, there were three booming knocks on the door. “Time’s up.” Apollo reeled in the scroll and handed it to Jinx.
It was dark when they left the Archives. Apollo decided to take them to stay in a nearby inn where travelers usually stayed for the night whenever they came to hike the Summit. He would have preferred they rest for the night than try to navigate the Woodlands and deal with the wolves.
The lowly cottage was wooden and cozy, a sensation of tranquility and warmth blanketing the establishment. Splintered wood and spindled webs reminded guests of the inn’s age. The crackle of burning wood in the hearth put Jinx at ease as she approached the lady of the house. Apollo was beside her, disguised by the illusion Jinx had cast over him, taking the necessary measures to conceal his identity. Rumors could spread across the city if anyone recognized him, and that was the last thing they needed. Jinx herself was camouflaged under her own veil; she appeared to be a hooked-nose and ginger-haired woman peppered with freckles.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but there’s only one room available tonight.” The woman winced.
The entrance creaked open, a group of hikers bellowing behind it and reeking of dried sweat. Jinx watched their footfalls and movements as they crossed the foyer. Strapped to their waists were a series of tools, including daggers. She knew instantly that the delicate curve of that particular blade was meant for tasks other than cutting down prickly branches.
None of the hikers held any sign of the lethal white flower, not that she could see. They could have gone for a hunt, she supposed; the Woodlands were teeming with deer and game. Still, Jinx instinctually trusted her gut, and it warned her that she wasn’t as safe as she’d hoped.
The hikers plowed up the stairs, wood groaning under their weight.
She turned her attention back to the woman in front of her, knowing there was not much room for debate. Jinx was also too exhausted to negotiate. “We’ll take it.”
“That’ll be six Marcs.”
Jinx traded the Marcs for the key to the room and went upstairs with Apollo. Their room was the first one on the right. The door squealed on rusty hinges as they walked into the small space. Tendrils of dust spilled from the roof as they took in the decaying wood on the thin walls.
Her tone was drenched in sarcasm. “Well, this is nice.”
Two large windows flooded the room with moonlight, revealing a single bed and a chest of drawers.
She and Apollo exchanged glances. “I’ll take the floor,” he said nobly.
“Smart.”
The mattress sunk under her weight until one leg of the bed broke, slanting the whole frame sideways. Jinx tumbled down with it, expecting something to snap. Surprising even herself, she chortled, “You know, I actually find this place kind of charming.”
Apollo snorted, peeling off his coat. “It’s hardly the lap of luxury, but it’ll do.” Jinx tossed him a pillow from her bed. “How lucky for me. A pillow, just what I always wanted.”
“You should work on your bedside manner, Polly—literally. It needs serious work. I’m grateful you volunteered for the floor, though.”
“My bedside manner is nothing of your concern.” A flush of color sprouted across Jinx’s brown cheeks. “I think we need paper and a pencil first.”
Apollo picked his notebook out of his bag and sat by Jinx on the tilted mattress. Nestling closer, she leaned into him. “We need to review every piece of evidence that ties our problems together.”
Jinx sprawled open the scroll they’d taken from the Archives, the one rehashing the tale of the Virtues. “So, each Virtue has a gift that was given to them by the Celestial Architect, and there are four Virtues but five objects if we include that book. And there is an empty chair by Akuji in the Hall of Judgment. All of this makes me think of that first line: In the table where five once sat, now sit four.
“And look at this frame here.” Jinx pointed to the electricity surrounding the box. “If my interpretation skills are correct, it seems like the box must be the Vessel. These runes look exactly like the ones that are burned into it. It has been the punishment for seeking truth. The Vessel must then be some sort of a cage. We saw something akin to it in the memory. Also, why can’t anyone decipher runes on the Vessel? Plenty of years in the Momento Museum, and not one historian could crack it?”
“Because these runes are wards meant to powerful enough to keep that thing in–not exactly an entire language but rather pieces of it,” Apollo finished. “The Virtue they are casting out must be the one that ruled over the Pandemonium. Knit from people’s worst desires. Its lack of a leader, the missing seat at the Hall of Judgment, and the gift from the Architect without its owner. All indicate to the banished figure.”
“Now, clearly, the person who took the Vessel knew about this missing Virtue, which is why that piece of the scroll is missing. I saw V’Yockovitch sign his name in the book before us. He entered the Archives around the same time that the Vessel vanished,” Jinx added.
Apollo tapped the pencil against his lips. “He was at the orchestra when I heard someone thinking about it, and he was also at my birthday, which would have given him the perfect opportunity to take it. He could’ve easily paid someone off from Nadir’s checkbook so no one would be able to trace the money back to him.”
“And he might not be alone. He could be working with someone,” Jinx continued.
A person who V’Yockovitch had wrapped around his finger. A person who had some power, yet not someone in a noticeable position. Someone who could go under the radar.
“Warren,” they both said.
Jinx jumped up from her spot, pacing in circles. “Of course. With the funding from V’Yockovitch, Warren can muster up the resources he needs to experiment on the Vessel and Elu’s Grace. He also probably knows how to extract the serum, so he could be the one giving it to Hunters. Going off the network theory we discussed with Thatcher, where all the Cursed are connected somehow, Warren and V’Yockovitch must have figured out a way to eliminate all of the Cursed at once.”
“And whatever that solution is…It’s being presented on the Autumnal Equinox.”
“Why wait? Why not do it now?”
Apollo’s face fell as a horrid truth dawned on him. “Because to create a prison like the Vessel, you need a Virtue’s power. And you’d need that same kind of power to destroy it.”
Jinx faltered a step. “Where would you find power like that?”
“If you gather up enough people, inject them all at the same time with a steroid…that might equate to the power of one Virtue.”
“Elu’s Grace.” Jinx’s fingers froze. “Fuck.”
“They’re sacrificing themselves. It’s going to be a massacre. The question to be answered is if the people injecting themselves with Elu’s grace know exactly what’s going on? Are they even aware?”
“We have to take the Vessel from them before they are able to present it on the Equinox. We saw in the vision what could happen if it were to be activated. Somnium gone and its people with it.” Where could it be? Jinx had checked both Warren’s residence, as well as the V’Yockovitch manor. However, there was still one place they never thought to check. “The University. We never checked if someone hid it somewhere in the University.”
Apollo followed her line of thought. “No one would think to hide the Vessel in the very same place where it has been for twenty years. They could hide it in plain sight.”
Twenty years of Cursed being tortured for being different, all because four Virtues banished another. Thousands suffered because deities couldn’t keep their problems to themselves. Tens of thousands died due to a plague brought upon their very own Virtues. Where were they when people withered from sickness?
Where were the Virtues when their people needed them the most?
Where were they when she needed them? When Jinx suffered?
Jinx closed her eyes. There wasn’t time to go down that rabbit hole. Jinx was so close to going home that she had to keep focused.
She just needed to remember the name of the exiled Virtue, and it would all be over. To do that, the Vessel had to be taken from Warren and V’Yockovitch. “What do we do when we have the Vessel?”
“Well, I think the book we found must be the book belonging to the fallen Virtue. I hope it will tell us. Surely, there’s a way to break apart the Vessel without harming anyone. And anyways, better it is in our hands than anyone else’s.” Apollo got to his feet, closing the distance between himself and Jinx and enveloping her in his scent. He took hold of her hands. “Firstly, we have to make sure that it is Warren and V’Yockovitch who are the culprits. If we’re wrong, we don’t want to raise a false alarm.”
She squeezed his hands. “I know.” Jinx desperately wanted to be right, especially considering the fact that now that she knew her riddle and the Vessel were related, this mystery was just as much her problem as his.
“You will go home, Jinx. I promised you that. I always see things through.”
Jinx wrapped her arms around him, and Apollo embraced her in turn, holding her tightly to his chest. She believed him. Sincerity was laced into his every word. She held the promise close to his heart. “I know that too.” She could feel her pulse in her throat.
Heat pooled low in her belly. She could feel it—the want, the desire she’d been postponing. A glance at his taunting lips made her breath hitch.
The memory of his words rang through her skull. You’ll understand what living means.
She yearned to go home, yet she also longed to live right now. Experience life with him.
Jinx raised to the tip of her toes and closed her eyes, touching her mouth to his.