56
HENRY
hatever I saw on Harlow’s face earlier must have been an illusion of herW veil. Now that the party has begun, she’s smiling, her posture relaxed as she sips a glass of wine and listens to two young women from the high houses of Lunameade telling her a story about the rivalry between two seamstresses in the city.
Naima and Carter are sitting by a heating stone, rolling their eyes as Bryce holds court with several young women. I can’t hear what he’s saying over the many conversations on the patio, but I can tell by the way he’s gesticulating that he must be regaling them with what is likely an unnecessarily overblown tale of his heroism in the Drained Wood.
A group of fiddlers plays soft music, less for dancing than for atmosphere. Harrick and Liza Carrenwell sit at the other end of the patio, calling out requests to the musicians. I know that they’re really keeping their distance so that their influence seems far from what I’m going to say tonight.
The party is beautiful, but my gaze keeps sliding to Harlow in her starlight dress. It shimmers in the truly absurd amount of light flickering from candles on every tabletop. I’m trying not to look at her at all because I can’t think straight with her in that dress, especially with the fresh memory of fucking her in it.
I take a long swig of my whiskey and turn my full attention back to the group I’ve worked my way into. I can’t for the life of me remember the names of the people I’m speaking to or which gate their families guard, but I
can always pick the biggest gossips at a party. They’re receptive in ways that not everyone is, and they ask the exact right questions to lead to the answers they want you to give.
Back at the fort, I’ve been called closed-off, broody, and intensely introverted, but really, I’m always watching. When you don’t speak up as much, people tend to fill the silence out of sheer nervousness. Being quiet means that I get to observe everyone, and they sometimes forget I’m even there. It’s what has kept my family alert and aware of any threats growing inside the fort walls, but it’s come in handy here in this new environment as well.
Harlow keeps glancing over at me, clearly surprised by my sudden switch from quiet brooding to life of the party.
It’s easier to be charming when I’m playing a part. I liked parties enough when I was younger, when Holly was alive and there was no pressure on me to fill the void she left behind.
Being here in Lunameade brings enough distance that I can slip back into that old pattern. If I want to sway these people to my side, they need to think I’m one of them. A woman named Annie, introduced herself right away and she’s eager to keep me talking.
“So, you two seem to know everyone, but I swear I still can’t even keep my in-laws straight,” I say.
Annie laughs softly. “The Carrenwells are probably the easiest to track because of the eyes. No other family has all those shades of purple.”
“Ah, but I can’t see color. So I’m at a loss there.”
Her jaw drops. “Can’t see color?”
I shake my head. “After I nearly died when the fort fell. My body recovered, but my vision never returned to color. I see the world in black and white.”
She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth, as she smacks her husband’s arm. “Patrick, can you imagine? That sounds like such a headache.”
Patrick whistles low. “I can’t. Surely it affects your night vision.”
“Don’t make him feel bad,” she chides, squeezing my arm. “I’m sorry.
I’m just so fascinated that you had a brush with the veil and came back changed.”
“The stranger thing is that it happened to all of us who almost died that day. We all recovered, but our vision lost its color. Except…” I nod to Carter.
“My friend Carter over there. He got his back when he fell in love with his
wife.”
I can tell immediately this is the right thing to say because all of the women in the group sigh.
Annie presses a hand to her heart. “You’re kidding.”
“I couldn’t make it up,” I say. “It’s happened to a few of our men.”
“But not you?” Annie asks, glancing at Harlow. “She does normally seem a bit reserved, but tonight she was magnificent at the ceremony. I can see the appeal.”
I’m trying not to think about how appealing my wife is or how I can still smell her perfume all over me.
I sigh. “It’s still early, but I’m hopeful my full vision will return as we get to know each other better.” Each lie begets the next lie. Like any exercise, it gets easier the more I practice. I’m slowly leading them right to where I want them.
A blonde woman in our circle presses a hand to her heart. “She really is a beautiful girl. A shame that you can’t see her in full color.”
Annie nods in agreement. “You’re so right, Colleen. All of those Carrenwell women have the dark hair and pale skin and the high cheekbones.”
“Truthfully, I’ve never worried about what I’m missing,” I say. “Even in a black and white world, Harlow is striking.”
Perhaps I’m laying it on a little thick, but all of the women look moved.
“I am glad you survived. I can’t imagine what an ordeal you’ve been through,” Colleen says solemnly.
Several more people wander into our group. It’s slowly growing thanks to the morbid curiosity of these ghouls.
They want me to talk about it more, and I stuff down my disgust. “Well, not everyone was so lucky. So many of my people—of our people died defending our walls that day. The fort is set up similarly to the city. We have fallback points the same way you do here, but instead of being divided into quadrants, we’re set up in levels, one through six.”
They all nod along with rapt attention, and I know I have them. I just need Rafe to show. It’s stupid to let my emotions get involved, but between Harlow’s justifiable loathing of the man and the fact that he tried to frame me at a rebel meeting, I don’t mind setting him up as much as I expected.
I continue the story, leaving out any details critical to our strategic defense and playing up the emotional aspect. When I finally get to Holly’s
death, half of the women have glassy eyes, their hands over their mouths or hearts in shock and sympathy. Sharing my sister’s last moments for the purpose of manipulation makes me feel sick to my stomach, but I think of Harlow’s words and force myself to be committed to this vengeance.
I shake my head. “Listen to me, going on and on and completely ruining the mood. I’m sorry. I fear I’m living up to the reputation of mountain men having no manners.”
“Nonsense,” Colleen says, grabbing my hand. “This is exactly what Agony night is about. It’s about sharing memories to share the burden of our collective grief. Your sister sounds like a very brave woman.”
I swallow hard. The sudden shift from contrived storytelling to real sympathy throws me. “Thank you for listening. The more people who know what we have been through—who know the stories of the people we love— the more their memories live on. It makes me miss her a little less.”
I hear a chorus of greetings on the far side of the patio.
Rafe has finally arrived. If I were a true believer, I would see this timing as Divine. He shakes hands as he enters the party, but I notice it’s all men who greet him. The women of the high houses seem to shrink away.
Annie tracks my gaze and sighs. “I guess we have to go welcome the mayor with the rest of them.”
“You’ll find no welcome for him from me,” I say just loud enough to cut through the din of conversations. Several people outside of our group turn to see what I’m talking about.
Harlow is directly in my line of sight. She pauses her conversation and gives me the barest hint of a nod.
I wave a hand in dismissal. “Look, I have been living in the woods a long time and I know things are different here. There are political games to be played and that man has made himself indispensable in this community. I don’t want to speak out of turn.”
As Annie grabs my shoulder, I can feel Harlow’s eyes on us. I have no idea if it’s amusement or jealousy, but I hope it’s the latter.
“You must speak your truth tonight, especially after sharing that story.
For Holly,” Annie says.
The group around us nods. I try to ignore the way the reminder that I’m doing this for my sister and betraying her at the same time feels like a blade slid between my ribs.
I take a bracing breath. My dread is no longer manufactured. “I told you
how we’d never seen a horde of Drained that big. They were so coordinated and advanced compared to what we had seen in the past, like the ones who just attacked North Hold last week.”
They all nod and lean in closer. I’ve got them on the hook—it just takes the slightest tug to haul them in. This is the trickiest part.
Lowering my voice, I lean toward them. “When the Drained showed up, the blessed in our ranks sensed the distinct feeling of Polm’s influence.”
Colleen gasps. “You think that someone compelled them to attack the fort all at once?”
I cast a narrow-eyed glare at Rafe. “I know exactly who did. Rafe saw us coming and going through North Hold more frequently, and I think he sensed his standing with the Carrenwells was falling behind my family. With Holly set as heir of Mountain Haven, I would be free to move anywhere to marry into any family, and we all know the Carrenwells decide which families hold the gates. North Hold would be an obvious choice given our relationship with the Carrenwells at the time and our knowledge of the road north to Mountain Haven.”
I see my implication hit the group of them. I feel like a puppet master pulling strings. It’s easier than I thought to muddle my sister’s memory by mixing lies into her story—to speak words that make me feel sick. I know that Harlow’s right. There is no dignity in revenge. There’s only what I will do and what I won’t.
Once I remember that, the lie is easy. Because it’s not a lie I’m telling to anyone who matters, and it’s certainly not something I believe. I have always known who my enemy is, and one way or another, Harrick Carrenwell is going to pay for his sins. This lie is just another tool to bring me to the end game of this plan. When I really think about it, there’s something very satisfying about him thinking he’s getting what he wants, right before I rip it all away from him.
Colleen clicks her tongue, her eyes lit with anger. “This makes more sense than I care to admit. We already know discreet violence is a method he likes. How many times did we see that wife of his in long-sleeved dresses out of season?”
“I saw her fixing the glamour around a black eye once in the ladies’ washroom at a North Hold party—back when he used to throw parties up there,” Annie says, shaking her head. “It’s a wonder he’s still mayor.”
“It’s the common people,” I say. “It’s easy to see the sway he has on them
—of course, that could just be that manipulation magic at work.”
The revelation dawns on their faces in a wave. I’m just planting seeds, but I can tell they’re taking root already.
“I can’t believe I’ve never even considered it,” Patrick says. “He could be doing it to any of us who don’t have Polm’s blessing.”
I step closer to and drop my voice lower. “This is why I didn’t want to say anything. We should all be very careful with him and very skeptical. We have it on good authority that Rafe sent the horde away. While it might have been done for the sake of the city, he could have just sent them off into the forest. He didn’t have to direct them at the fort. Anyone who can do that is powerful, and that kind of power would make them unstoppable. I would like to hold him accountable when the moment presents itself. Do you think—” I look down and blow out a breath. “No. I couldn’t ask that of you.”
“Couldn’t ask what?” Patrick asks.
I look up and meet their eyes one by one. “I know things are different in the city and you all survive on alliances with other houses. But if the moment came when I could finally hold him accountable—would you stand behind me, given all you know personally? I have tried to make peace with this knowledge for ten years. I have offered it up to the Seven Divine. But I couldn’t rest knowing he might be here doing the same or worse in Lunameade. It’s clear he’ll do anything to hold on to power, but after the breach at North Hold last week, I couldn’t hold my tongue anymore.” I wave a hand. “Maybe it’s just my old memories coming to haunt me, but it feels frighteningly familiar.”
Their faces are grave, and while I know I’m lying about the subject matter, I am confident about the implications I’m making. Rafe is dangerous, and if they didn’t know it before, they do now—and everyone will be better off for it.
Annie and Colleen are both already nodding.
Patrick steps closer. “You have my support,” he says as he claps me on the back. “If there’s one thing we loathe in this circle, it’s a grifter. I think we’ve all seen hints of it over the years, but this brought all these puzzle pieces together. You can count on our support for whatever you need.”
The rest of the group murmurs their agreement.
I shake my head. “I couldn’t ask that of you, considering the risk and his history of violence.”
I glance in Rafe’s direction. He’s speaking with Liza and Harrick, but he
seems to have noticed our larger group.
Colleen pats my arm. “We protect our people here.”
I press a fist over my heart and nod solemnly. “Thank you, but we should probably spread out so he doesn’t get suspicious. I don’t want to pull his attention again,” I whisper. “And please, be discreet about who you share all of this with. Only those you trust. I wouldn’t want this to cause a scene during the festival.”
They all nod, and I know I’ve just ensured that these rumors will spread like wildfire. They turn and split off into smaller groups, wandering toward the refreshments.
When I turn, Kellan Carrenwell is watching me intently.
I am completely fucked. I did not mean to do all of that in front of him, but he’s looking at me like he knows exactly what I am—a liar through and through.
He waits for my audience to wander away, murmuring their own suspicions amongst their small group. By tomorrow morning, those suspicions and my story will be all over town. A wave of nausea rolls through me as Kellan saunters over.
“I couldn’t figure it out before. Everyone has hooks eventually. Even Low.” He shakes his head and laughs. “But not you. Because you’re twice- blessed. You hide Polm’s blessing well, under the purple of Elvodeen—the problem is I just watched you work that crowd and your orange was sneaking through.”
I’ve worked so hard to hide this part of myself, to always make sure that I’m using my healing magic at the same time I use any manipulation magic so that Harlow won’t see. Several times, I was afraid she did, especially once I realized Gaven had sensed it. Certainly, if he could sense it, she would see it. But somehow she still hasn’t noticed. The moment that I tell her, she will stop trusting me. Weathering that kind of fallout when I need her on my side for this next critical part of the plan would ruin everything.
“Have you used it on Harlow?” Kellan asks.
“Not how you’re thinking,” I say.
He frowns. “She’s a tough hook. I’m quite blessed by Polm, and at this point, I don’t need to know someone intimately. Even strangers are easy for me. But Harlow is my sister, and it’s been years since I could snag her enough to compel her. If you got to her, it’s because she trusts you—that is a rare thing.” He sighs and looks back at the party. “You need to tell her how
and when. Whatever your reason may be.”
I wait for Kellan to say more. It’s more unnerving that he doesn’t. But Kellan is the captain of the city guard and a seasoned interrogator. This is probably part of the play.
“Don’t look so shocked. You know as well as I do part of this gift is understanding who will abuse it.” He crosses his arms and sighs. “I looked into what you said about the well water.”
“And?”
“And you were right. Thank you. It’s going to make a big difference for the men who guard our gates.” He rubs the back of his neck and casts a glance behind him.
Harlow is speaking with his wife, Libby, across the courtyard, the two of them with their heads bent close together over their steaming cups of mulled wine.
“I also looked into some old records and found the log entry of you and your father meeting with mine, but what was discussed was conveniently left out.” Kellan shakes his head. “I’m sorry. If I had known what you shared, so much would be different now.” He sounds so genuine, but it’s hard to believe anything he says when I’m waiting for him to rat me out to his sister.
I thought I was prepared for city politics, but everyone here has an angle.
Kellan could be working me.
He looks at Harlow and Libby again. “Harlow seems calm—almost happy. Can’t say I’ve ever seen that.”
“Happy might be a stretch.” I try to sound light, but I am braced for a fight.
Kellan smirks. “Tonight is hard for her. I think there was some old stuff coming up and there are some things you should know.” He looks out at the party. “That storytelling you did was impressive. Very compelling stuff. But this is a tale better shared in private.” He nods toward the garden entrance at the end of the stone patio. “Walk with me? I want to show you something in the garden.”
I know I’m probably about to be thrown in some Carrenwell dungeon, but when I look across the patio, Harlow is smiling at me. I gesture to Kellan to let her know where I’m going so at least someone I almost trust knows who I’m with.
I follow Kellan into the dark garden, not because I trust that he won’t try to kill me, but because I’m confident it won’t work.
t took every semblance of self-control not to show Kellan my fury as heI pulled apart Harlow’s sob story piece by piece. He was so earnest—so concerned for the sister that very much does not need his protection.
My wife is such a talented storyteller.
“I can’t believe I fell for her stories when I knew she was a liar,” I say.
I have been fuming ever since I left the Carrenwell House garden after my talk with Kellan.
Fresh off of lying to half the high magical houses in the city to convince them to blame someone else for the Carrenwells’ sins, I found out what an unbelievable sucker I’ve been, and I’m livid.
I knock back the glass of whiskey in my hand and immediately hold it out to Carter for a refill.
The burning ache of humiliation in my chest hasn’t abated since I left the Carrenwell gardens an hour ago. When I came straight to Carter’s room, he read my emotional temperature quickly and summoned Naima and Bryce for backup.
They sat me down at the table in the room, and Carter has been monitoring my liquor intake as they listen to me rant.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk this much,” Naima says, playing with the belt of her robe.
Carter smirks at her. “Consider yourself lucky.”
I ignore their jabs, the seething anger too much for me to hold in. “I told her about Holly and she used that to manipulate me. She lied to me about what she wants out of this, and if I don’t know her motivation, I don’t know how to trust her. I poured my heart out —”
“To get her to share with you,” Carter reminds me.
“I told her about the worst thing that ever happened to me,” I say. “I told her about losing Holly, and she offered me the one thing she knew I wouldn’t be able to resist—a sister who could be saved. She played on my sympathies.”
“Like you played on hers,” Naima says. “You’re just mad you got outplayed.”
I am mad I got outplayed. But I’m furious I got outplayed by someone who understood how to hit me in the place where it hurts most. I grossly miscalculated when I showed her so much of myself early on.
Can I really blame her for using it against me when I was such a fucking sap?
“You know I’m always the first to gloat, Hen,” Bryce says, leaning forward to pat me on the shoulder. “But this is a time I really don’t want to say I told you so. You deserve better. Especially when it comes to Holly.”
I clink glasses with him and knock back the rest of my drink, savoring the burn in my chest.
“All right. I’m cutting you off after this one, so enjoy it. Tomorrow is a big day and we can’t have you slow and hungover,” Carter says, filling my glass one more time.
It’s more ceremonial than anything. It’s hard for the Deathless to get drunk, or rather to stay drunk, because of how quickly we process alcohol.
I’ll sober up in an hour or two if I don’t keep drinking, and while I don’t get hungover like I did before my first death, I do sometimes get hungry for blood if I’ve pushed too hard.
That’s very unappealing since I’d rather shrivel up and die than be hungry for blood right now. Because it won’t be a general craving I’m trying to sate.
It will be a specific one. Nothing has ever tasted as good as Harlow’s blood.
I take a slow sip of my drink, trying to savor it, instead of just using it to blunt the ache in my chest.
Naima sighs. “Look, you need some tough love. Your ego is bruised and you want to use it as an excuse to act out, but whether or not your wife used you like you were using her, you don’t get to act self-righteous just because you lost. If you could have done the same to her, you would have in a heartbeat. And let’s not forget the bigger issue here—Kellan knows you’re twice-blessed, and his sister, your wife, does not.”
I stare into my glass and refuse to look at her. At first, I had been entirely focused on Kellan knowing that secret, but after our talk in the garden, that was all but forgotten in the wake of Harlow’s cruelty.
“Divine deliver me,” Naima mutters. “Why don’t you actually talk to her, Henry? If what you learned from her brother disturbed you so much, why don’t you speak to her tomorrow before the events start?”
Bryce tucks his long copper hair behind his ears, then smacks a hand on the table. “That’s it! Naima is right. You should confront her with it before the evening starts. She won’t be able to avoid you for the rest of the night, so you can really make her suffer for it,” Bryce says.
Naima rubs a hand down her face. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No, he’s right,” I say, spinning my glass on the table. “If I talk to her before tomorrow’s events, I know exactly how to get the truth out of her, now that Kellan has been so forthcoming.”
She can be cruel. Fine. I can be cruel, too. It will be good to clear the air before the rest of the festival. If we’re going to have a prayer of pulling this off, I need her to be honest, even if I have to force her to do it.
I stand, gulp the rest of my drink, and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
Tomorrow, I’ll bring her back to the garden and confront her there with evidence she can’t charm her way around. She’ll be forced to surrender this game she’s been playing with me. Either we’ll move forward with the clear understanding between us, or I’ll take her down along with the rest of her family.
