“This is all we have,” Magnus said, laying out two swords, three rifles, a case of pistols, and a handful of kitchen knives. He blinked at my significantly larger pile of household items. “What is all that junk?”
It was easy to find weapons in such a huge house. Curtain rods, fireplace tools, plenty of solid-wood broomsticks that could be sharpened into spears or used as clubs.
But I guess if you weren’t used to fighting for your life, they could more easily be overlooked.
“You need a little more imagination,” I said. “And these”—I moved the knives away from everything else—“won’t do any good. We want long-range weapons, only.”
“Ever heard of ‘knife throwing’?”
“That’s a thing?”
“They do it all the time in the carnivals in Prague.”
“What’s a carnival?”
“It’s the greatest show on earth.” Magnus grinned and took my hand, lighting it on fire, a feeling so glorious I never wanted to let go. “When this is all over, I’ll take you.”
I blushed, turning away to sort the weapons. “I’ve never been out of the country before.”
“We’ll be able to go anywhere. Everywhere. You’ll love it.”
“Well, I mean, I have to see if there’s time between clients.”
“Oh.” His smile slipped away slowly. “Right. Of course. Your job.”
“Why work for a patronage if you’re not going to use it afterward?” My words sounded shallow to my own ears, but I couldn’t stop them. I was doing to Magnus exactly what I hated Jember for doing to Saba.
He helped me sort, though he was sorting differently than I was and messing up everything I’d done. “I was thinking about hiring someone to run the chocolate business. I mean, when I’m twenty-one and it’s mine to command. They’ll do all the boring business things, and I’ll get to sit back and focus on my art.”
“Really?” I’d been counting the weapons but lost the number somewhere between twenty-one and twenty-six. “That’s great. You should definitely do what you’re passionate about.”
“I figure you can do art any time of the day and still be able to sell portraits overseas. At night, for instance. Plenty of countries are awake while we’re asleep.”
I lost count again and stopped trying. “Magnus, we really need to get these things organized.”
“And debtera work at night, too. So, you know, we’d be awake at the same time.”
“Right. Okay.” I raised my eyebrows at him. What did art and exorcism have to do with each other? “Are you going to help me with these weapons?”
“We could be together,” he clarified. “And we could be nocturnal.”
That made me laugh, and it lifted the seriousness from his expression. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a kiss. After a moment I pulled back, breathless. “I want to be with you, nocturnal or not,” I said, rubbing my nose to his. “But first things first.”
“Right, yes, the Evil Eye,” he said with a heavy sigh, as if he were tired of hearing about it. “And then, wedding preparations.”
I gaped, then snapped my jaw shut, blinking at him for a moment. “Wedding preparations?”
“Of course.”
“What do you mean of course?”
“Andi,” Jember called from the top of the stairs, “come see me in your room.”
“Oh, thank God,” I murmured, rushing out of the room and up the stairs. I had been beginning to sweat. A wedding … I couldn’t even imagine it. I’d never really wanted to. Men seemed to need periodic babysitting, but women came already fully capable—unless they were unable to work or wanted children. But I was working, doing what I loved, and I could cook and defend myself. And bearing children was the furthest thing from my mind.
Our ideas for the future vastly differed, but there would be plenty of time to talk about that when he was safe and well.
Like you said, Andi. First things first.
Jember followed me into my cozy room and locked the door behind us. The door had an amulet nailed to it, one I’d never seen before. “What’s that for?”
“Extra protection,” he said, easing himself to sit on my bed. He was wearing some of the dark grey knitwear this house had chosen as its uniform. It was strange seeing him in dark colors. I’d grown up seeing him in mostly white, with rich colors as accents. The grey didn’t suit him. “Because you counteracted the temperature, the Evil Eye isn’t connected to this room, thus can’t hear us. But I added an extra shield, just in case.”
“Just in case of what?”
“The two of us are the only ones who can be in on the plan of attack. If Magnus or Saba get wind of it, it’ll get back to the Evil Eye. We need to work with the element of surprise as much as we can.”
“I understand. So what’s the plan?”
“We need to put up as much defense as possible. If we prepare a room ahead of time—the game room downstairs, which I’ve already started on—we can create barricades with amulets to keep the hyena inside.”
“But it’ll break through. We need more defense than just amulets.”
“If the hyena’s target is inside the room with it—hear me out,” he said, and I clamped my jaw shut again. “The target and someone helping to protect them in the room. An amulet shielding the doorway. And then you, outside of the room, constructing the amulet.”
How could I tell him I would be the one inside the room without giving myself away?
“We can’t lock Kelela in with it, there’s no way she’d be able to help defend herself with her injuries. And if she’s killed—God forbid—the Evil Eye will just go dormant again and this will all be for nothing.”
“If the hyena is focused on the target it won’t bother to waste time breaking down the defense at the door. It’s important that you’re out of danger while you’re working.”
“I think you should be the one constructing the amulet. You’re much faster than I am.”
“I’ll be gone before then. And you’re fast enough.”
Tomorrow I’d have to try to force him to stay again, but that was a problem for tomorrow. “Is this how you did it?”
“I didn’t have a team of people. Just me. I’d sent the target out of the house for the day, then spent part of the afternoon scattering the limbs of the Evil Eye’s servant around the city. But I did lock it in a room with the defensive amulet on the door, and I crouched on top of a high bookcase for extra protection.”
My gape tweaked into a grin. “That’s brilliant.”
“It only just worked. If I’d had help maybe I wouldn’t be…” He gestured to his leg. “And I hadn’t had time to construct any more than one shield at the door. I’ll show you how, and we can make at least three apiece tonight if you’re willing to stay up.”
“Of course I’m willing. I’ll do whatever it takes. Although, I’m not really comfortable scattering Saba across the desert.”
“Me neither. We’ll just have to keep an eye on her.” He leaned over, his forearms on his thighs, and groaned. “I can’t believe I left my pills at home.”
“And your mentee, now that we’re on the subject.”
“What?” Jember lowered his brows for a moment, then raised them. “Oh right. Him.” He winced, rubbing his knee. “Maybe he’ll get fed up with waiting and go back to his parents. That would be the perfect homecoming present.”
“I’ll ask Saba to bring you some medicine.”
“I’ll ask her. You need to get a little sleep for tonight.”
I grinned. “So, you two are talking now?”
“Earlier, when she was taking care of my leg … I…” He shook his head, like he didn’t understand what he was saying. “I don’t think her touch hurt me.”
I gaped. “Really?”
“I’m not sure. It was hard to tell, since I was already in pain.”
“Wait.” I leaped off the bed, suddenly realizing: “Her skin is made of pottery, not actual flesh. That must be why it doesn’t hurt.”
Jember’s brows lowered—the opposite reaction I was expecting. “That’s your optimism talking. You want this to happen. It’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
He got up with a groan. “Because I don’t want it to.”
“But you love her, don’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
He shrugged. “It’s been a long time, Andi. I don’t think I know how to love in that way anymore.”
Finally, some honesty, even if it sounded like agony coming out.
He opened my bedroom door, swinging it wide, and left. Ending the conversation just like that. No more plans could be made. No more secrets could be said.
Not without consequences.
When I peeked out into the hall, Jember was out there talking to Saba, and I saw him gesture to his knee. She nodded and hurried to the closet down at the end of the hall. I froze, bracing myself as she opened it, but it had been rearranged to block any proof of what had happened.
“Andromeda!” Magnus called, and I heard pounding on the stairs. When I went to the top I saw him jumping them three by three. “Do you want to play a game with me?”
“Well, Jember wants to observe the house tonight, so I’m actually going to get a couple hours’ sleep before the Waking.”
His expression dropped. “You’ll be up and about during the Waking? Whose idea was that?” But he was leveling a glare at Jember before I could even respond. “Look, there are rules in this house, Jember. And I’m not comfortable having Andromeda out in the halls during the Waking.”
Jember gave Magnus a look that seemed to assess whether or not he had the energy to bother explaining our job. “If you have any more stupid comments, just write them down so I can more easily ignore them.”
“Why, because you can’t read?” Magnus countered, with far more intensity than necessary—but it was Magnus, after all.
I would’ve laughed, but now really wasn’t the time. Jember had been on his feet all day. He needed more painkillers. By this time of day his patience was thin, which is why we normally slept. And I could tell Magnus didn’t like Jember even before he’d entered the house. So, part of me wanted to step in between them in case a fight broke out—though the other part knew better than to step between two people about to fight.
Then again, Magnus would maybe get in a few hits but would ultimately lose horribly—knowing Jember, by way of death. I liked him too much to let that happen.
“The spirits are more active in the evening,” I said quickly. “Remember, Magnus? Besides, there’s nothing out there but wind.”
“You’re a terrible father, you know that?” he growled, and I quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him back, while Saba shot him a chastising look. “I wish you’d take that amulet off so I could look you in the eye and save her from you.”
“Magnus, stop—”
“Please shut him up,” Jember said, rolling his eyes. “He’s exhausting.” He looked at me. “Be ready to work in two hours.”
“I’ll be ready,” I said, dragging Magnus away. I shoved him into his room, shutting the door behind us. “Jember is here to help. Could you not start fights, please?”
“I hate him like that putrid honey wine,” he said, punching his pillow a few times before sitting on his bed. “He doesn’t deserve you. Or Saba.”
“No one deserves Saba.”
He grinned slightly. “That’s true.”
“Jember has his own set of survival habits. And … he has really bad pain because of his injury.” I probably shouldn’t have revealed Jember’s business, but it was too late now. I sat beside him on the bed. “He doesn’t mean most of what he says.”
“You’re too used to defending him. He doesn’t deserve it, Andromeda.” He huffed and lay back on the bed. “He’s a horrible human.”
“I know he is, but you don’t get to say it.”
Magnus blinked at me curiously, and I realized I had raised my voice.
I stood up quickly. “I should go nap before tonight,” I said, and rushed out of the room.
“Where is everything?” was the first thing Jember asked after we’d walked through the halls a bit. He only needed to talk slightly louder over the wind as he leaned in close.
“I cleansed it all,” I said. “Well, most of it.”
He chewed on his lip for a moment, then headed to the closest room—the library.
I followed, then shut the door and the wind behind us. “This room isn’t the safest. There’s a ghost who likes to hurl books.”
Jember narrowed his eyes, but at the portrait of Magnus’s father instead of me. “Normally, I would applaud your good sense—”
“Would you really?” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“—in cleansing the Manifestations in order of strength.” I dodged away as he attempted to flick me in the forehead. “But in this case, you should’ve left all the Manifestations intact and dealt only with the hyena. Cleansing it all first gives the Evil Eye too much opportunity to assess your capability.”
“Well, I didn’t know that,” I said with a frustrated shrug. “We never made it to that lesson, remember?”
“That’s because you weren’t supposed to be here.”
A book dropped on the ground and skidded, stopping between us.
“That’s our warning to go,” I said. “Should we work in the game room?”
Jember didn’t move. “Hand me that.”
I sighed, but picked up the book and held it out to him. I winced as he cocked his arm back. He threw the book at the wall, the sharp edge denting the canvas right where someone had painted Magnus’s father’s throat. The book flipped, slapping messily against the mantel then to the ground. Jember murmured something that included a swear and the word colonizer as he left the room.
I followed at a safe distance until we were in the game room.
“I have a feeling you know the man in the portrait,” I said carefully.
“Never met him.” Jember chose the chair by the fire, so I put the basket of supplies on the coffee table before taking the couch across from him. He snatched a disk of silver from the basket. “But that boy has the same face.”
“Really? I think Magnus looks more like Saba.”
He flinted his pen violently. “That little jackass does not look like Saba.”
I smirked at his defensive tone and leaned forward to watch him work, but he waved me away. Right. Don’t watch. Just feel. I sat back in my chair again.
“I never wanted you to have to learn this sort of thing,” he said, a few strokes in.
“Then why did you start teaching me to cleanse Manifestations in the first place?”
“At first? Because constructing amulets kept you out of my hair for hours at a time.” He shrugged. “You were good at it. Excited about it. And I liked teaching you. Besides, when I took you with me to see clients they would always tip you.”
“And then I stopped being lucrative because I wasn’t cute anymore.”
It wasn’t just growing older and longer, my face morphing out of its cute little baby features into something more plain and awkward. Jember had stopped bringing me along about the same time I’d gotten my scar. The quick memory reminded me it was there, and my arm instinctively lifted to cover it, trying to make the gesture look casual by pulling my knees up on the chair and folding my forearms on top, shielding my mouth and cheeks.
I don’t know if Jember noticed what I was doing, but he said, “That’s not true. You stopped being lucrative when you became a little dick.”
I let out a breath of laughter. “Kind of like you.”
“Yes, but I had already built a reputation. It has a different effect when you’re previously an endearing angel.” He leaned back, propping his legs up on the table between us. “You’d never been beaten up like that before, so the attitude was understandable. But I like that you grew out of it. You have to find the survival habit that works best for you, and you operate better on optimism.”
“Maybe you should try it.”
“It’s too exhausting. I have to save my energy for things that matter.” He sighed and waved the amulet at me. “Are you paying attention? I’m not going to start again for you.”
“It doesn’t feel done.”
“It’s not.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “If only you weren’t so ambitious. Then we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Feel free to leave after you’ve finished with that amulet,” I said. “I can handle it from there.”
It was stupid of me to say that—if he called my bluff there’d be no one to construct the amulet when the hyena was released.
He sighed and looked at the unfinished silver, not like he misunderstood it but like it was the canvas for some other thought. I didn’t dare interrupt that thought, and so we sat in silence for what felt like minutes. “Only four debtera in history have survived their encounters with a hyena. All of them suffered nerve damage from their injuries. None of them could bear to touch another living person again. Three of them killed themselves before old age could take them.” He shook his head, as if realizing he wasn’t working, and made a few more strokes. “I don’t want that for you.”
I swallowed, my throat dry as I took in his words. “Why haven’t you ever told me this before?”
“Would it have mattered? All children think they’re invincible. Besides, constructing amulets is in you, like music. Most debtera are content to cleanse everyday Manifestations, but you’ve never been. Teaching you to cleanse a hyena would’ve been too much encouragement.”
“I’m good at this, you know I am. And if you had just taught me everything, maybe you wouldn’t have to be here right now doing it for me. I know you hate being here.”
“You’re too inexperienced to know you should be afraid.”
“I’m terrified, Jember. I’ve been since the first night. But there are more important things than fear at the moment.”
“Yes,” he grumbled, “your insufferable lover.”
“We’re not lovers,” I said, my face burning, then added indignantly, “Anyway, you’re Saba’s insufferable lover, you know.”
“I know.” He cursed and leaned back in his chair. “For the life of me I can’t figure out why she still loves me.”
“Because love is a strange beast. I don’t know. Why do I love Magnus?”
He raised his eyebrows as he worked. “Yes, why do you? You used to make more sense.”
“Same reason I care about you,” I said, smirking. “Every girl wants to marry someone like their father. You’ve conditioned me to have horrible taste in men.”
He laughed, putting the amulet down on the table with a sigh. He was quiet for a moment, the remainder of his smile drifting away into deep, sorrowful thought. Finally, he looked at me. “I was never qualified to take in a child, and you paid the price for that. I’m sorry, Andi.”
I didn’t expect his words and, for a moment, I didn’t know what to make of them. I felt tears pricking the backs of my eyes, but I knew he’d scold me if I cried. I could’ve easily turned this on him, told him off for everything he’d ever done to me.
But, somehow, I didn’t want to. “I forgive you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I think it’s better for my own conscience that I do.”
We were quiet for a moment.
Jember broke it with a sigh. “I think we can agree the bond between us isn’t based on normal love. We’re survivors. We keep coming back together again because we need each other to survive … but that’s not to say I don’t care about you. I do.”
My heart suddenly started pounding, and I had to force myself not to smile. That was all I’d ever wanted to hear. “You raised me. That’s affection enough.”
He looked at me, studied me, as if to see if I was being sarcastic, and then handed me a disk of silver. “I hope you were paying attention.”
“Just watch, old man, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
He smirked and leaned back in his chair. “We’ll see.”
He got to work on his next amulet without waiting for me to finish, and for a while we worked together in silence. Such familiar silence. Growing up, I used to call it quality together time. But still, it was marred by a creeping anxiety in my gut.
“Is the fourth debtera okay?” I asked suddenly.
“Hm?”
“Three killed themselves. The fourth doesn’t want to, does he?”
“Not so much since I found you.” He paused in his work, grinning the slightest bit. “Turns out having someone to live for helps.”
I entered my room to find Magnus fast asleep. The drawer where I kept my sleeping dress tended to creak, so instead I took off my warmer layer, wrapped my hair in my satin scarf, and climbed carefully into bed. I left space between us, just as Jember and I had done for years, but … somehow lying beside Magnus felt different. It felt … final.
But the word “final” could mean so many things. It could mean he was my final destination, my life partner, the man who I might one day call Husband—as distasteful as the concept seemed to me now, I knew in my heart my future would lead to it.
Unless … unless “final” meant something a bit more eternal, involving more of the physical presence of God and entirely too much less of Magnus.
No … No. It was not my time to die yet, God willing.
I reached out to caress Magnus’s cheek. He sighed, murmuring my name quietly.
“Yes, I’m here,” I whispered back.
“Did you have fun?” he mumbled, still mostly asleep I was sure, because his face was still pressed to his pillow.
I grinned, only holding back a kiss so as not to wake him. “I did.”
“You love working…”
I shushed him gently, and he sighed and went back to sleep.