CHAPTER SIXTEEN: ON THE TERRIBLE EDGE
Heart
Hours later, Heart stood before his Prince in the ballroom where he’d first taken his oath and braced for the worst.
Jacob’s hair was matted and he’d discarded his suit jacket. He stared at Heart, his own glassblade point down in his hands. A position of authority and rage that was rare for him. “I thought,” he said, his speech high and formal, “that Claire was simply studying adult magic on her own. That she’d learned it by watching others… But after what Danielle has told me, and after consideration, I am forced to confront the possibility that my most trusted retainer has been tutoring her in the use of her power, years before she is supposed to be initiated into such mysteries.”
Heart drew in a breath. He wanted to speak of Michael, to advocate against the manhunt that was about to be declared, but Jacob had fixated on the most painful aspect of the truth and now latched onto it like a tiger hanging on to the thing that had hurt him. “My Liege—”
Jacob’s face twisted into a look of rage and pain, and he snapped “Explain yourself.”
Heart swallowed. His mind was a swirl of thoughts. Michael. He’d been within mere moments of catching up with him. The missed chance was so painful that it was almost enough to drive him to his knees, but he needed to keep his feet right now. He needed to ensure that whatever else happened, the least fell on Claire as possible. Careful. He had too many plates balanced in the air, had been a fool to think he could keep it all from crashing down.
Yet here and now, it was finally time to be obvious in a way that Jacob Vallais was likely not ready to face.
“I have been teaching Claire advanced magic, yes,” he admitted.
“For how long?”
Heart sighed. It was like trying to brace for a punch, and he knew better than most that the only way to come away from a blow less hurt was to roll with it. He did his best to relax. “Seven years.”
The Prince stared at him, face white with shock. “… On what premise did you dare—”
“Your late wife,” Heart said simply. Honesty was best. “With all respect,” he said, “shortly before she died, Isabel asked me to ensure that Claire was trained, early and often. She saw that her daughter—your daughter—is a prodigy, and that she would not be content with what was allowed.”
“You swore allegiance to the House of Vallais,” Jacob breathed. “To obey. To serve. To—”
“And you will recall, my Liege,” Heart answered softly, “that it was Isabel, your wife, who formally took my oath. I may have angered you, my Liege, but upon my word, I have not broken my oath.” Not yet.
Jacob closed his eyes, and Heart watched the truth wash over him. It would’ve been wrong to call them friends. No friendship could exist between a sovereign and his servants. The balance of power was simply too one-sided, yet if not a relationship of equals, it was still one of caring, of trust, and of reliance.
I have not broken it by doing as your late wife commanded me all those years ago, Heart thought, but I have told you a truth that breaks your memory of her. That throws in your face the fact that she knew your weaknesses, and worked around them.
It might or might not be an unforgivable act, Heart knew, but at the least, letting it go would be one of the most painful things the Prince had ever done.
And in this moment, Heart did not know if Jacob could.
The Prince took a deep breath, at length, and said “You are relieved of your duties, until such time as I decide how to handle this matter.” He paused, then looked at Heart with an expression thick with grief. “Go, Heart. If you have private matters to see to, now is the time.” He paused, then said “I will have your blade, now.”
Heart fought to not let the objection show on his face. It wasn’t an uncommon rebuke when a retainer was relieved of duty. His blade was a privilege, not a right. And in so stripping him, Jacob not only left him vulnerable to attack, but he also definitively sealed him off from Claire. He could not protect her bladeless, and this meant that he was no longer expected to.
That stung deeply. Nonetheless, he reached across his hip and drew the green weapon from its voidsheath. Presented it to his prince hilt-first. “… Has my Liege further need of me?” Heart asked.
“Not until I decide so,” Jacob said.
Heart offered a nod and a bow, and turned away, walking out of the room alone.
He certainly couldn’t use any of the Vallais vehicles now, which was a shame—he’d grown attached to the white Mercedes. Still, his own car was inconspicuous, and he hadn’t been seen driving it for almost two years, which meant nobody was going to pay attention to a random sedan driving towards the north end. Navigating the Pierce retainers would be difficult, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve. As he turned the engine and drove away from his Liege’s home, Heart adjusted his mirror and glanced up at Claire’s window. It was nearly dawn, now. He doubted she’d gotten much sleep, but he hoped she’d gotten some. You have my number, if you need me, he thought.
Knowing that she might call him over her own father was an understanding that was almost as painful as being placed on suspension. Jacob would never forgive me for that.
He waited until he was out of Skyline before he pulled over into an abandoned lot. The eastern sky was brightening from black to blue, the stars winking out one by one. He got out of the car and opened the trunk, moving the spare blanket that served as a disguise for what lay beneath. The army duffel was long, its contents padded with pillows salvaged from Heart’s old apartment. He delicately, reverently unzipped the bag, and brushing aside the padding, looked at the beautiful weapon within. Translucent and colorless since its prior owner’s death, it lay in waiting for the purpose for which it was entrusted to him.
Heart reached out and lifted Isabel Vallais’s sword from its resting place of seven years, and said “forgive me, My Lady. I know this was meant for your daughter, and it will reach her still.”
He looked towards the brightening horizon. “I just have need of it. Just for a while.”
The dead did not answer, of course. They never did. Heart closed his eyes and let his power flow into the weapon, tuning it to his abilities. Then he void-sheathed First Frost and got back behind the wheel.
The political situation—now completely out of his hands—was dire. Alexandra Pierce had seemed willing at first to acknowledge the threat of the Vacant One as the primary worry… but Mark was the Princess’s close cousin, and despite the fact that he had died defying her own orders, she had listened to her grieving kin and passed word of Michael’s emergence to the Council. The Adelins knew by now. Worse, the Vallais were being called to account for the wounding of Autumn as well as Mark’s death.
The Vacant Ones had been responsible for both of those things, but the Pierces were using this as an opportunity to prosecute their grievances over practicality. Neither Mark nor Autumn would’ve been there, Alexandra reasoned, if Danielle hadn’t agreed to a duel. Abuser language. Oppressor logic. Politics in a death spiral. Heart estimated that they had days, perhaps less, before war began, unless Jacob could stop it, and in order to do that, he would have to make concessions.
And of course, there was one more elephant in the room: with the Vacant Ones returned, the Threefold Compact was now in question. The law stated that no Commoner needed to own a glassblade, since the royals held the sole responsibility of defending all Wielders from threats within their society and without. If the Vacant Ones were truly back, there was no justification for the royals not to open the vaults and arm every Commoner under their authority.
But only the Council could make that decision, and with House Adelin and the Regnants having control over the Council, it would never happen. There was no universe in which the House of the Griffin would permit the commoners to be armed with a Wielder’s weapon, Heart was certain. No matter how dire the situation.
Stupid. Foolish.
Inescapable
A hunt for Michael and Carlyle, whom he was apparently working with, would happen soon. Heart couldn’t hope to find him on his own. Not if—as he now suspected—the two were chasing the Vacant One around Tacoma. He could only be ready when they reemerged, and that meant finally putting together what he suspected was the last piece of this maddening puzzle. He started in the direction of Tacoma General, itself only a short distance from Wright Park, where everything had gone to hell a mere few hours ago.
That the murder of the group Tiffany Silverton was connected to had happened shortly before Michael reemerged and a Vacant One appeared could not have been a coincidence. They were connected. Had to be connected. Tiffany was alive. Heart had been prevented by duty and scant time from trying to reach her directly… but relieved of his responsibilities, that was no longer a problem. If there was even a snowball’s chance in hell that Heart could learn something from seeing her, he had to try.
They must’ve kept her alive and under guard for the same reason: the Pierces were paranoid, and that she might know something meant they couldn’t afford to let her die, but also couldn’t afford to let her fall into anyone else’s hands.
He parked two streets down from the hospital, hoping that this wouldn’t end with him being chased back to his car. Then, locking the door, he made his way up to the front entrance. The receptionist at the front desk looked up with curiosity as Heart walked past, a man in a suit drawing attention. He should’ve taken the time to change, but things felt urgent, and he hadn’t. Instead, Heart paused, stretching out his Sixth Sense as far as he could.
Turning towards the receptionist looking at him, Heart summoned his will and stirred the papers inside the waste bin loudly, as if some sort of rodent had gotten inside. The woman got up with a squawk, rushing to the bin.
As this happened, Heart walked past her desk and, walking past another trash-can, sent the tiniest bolt of wielder’s fire into its contents. The flames ignited immediately. People jumped to their feet, and Heart moved around the corner, reaching out with his senses again.
One of the retainers started moving. Heart headed for the stairs and waited just outside the door, off to the side. The Pierce retainer emerged a half second later, failing to notice him and stalking towards the front desk. Heart slipped behind him and ran up the stairs. It would only take them a few moments to get everything at the front under control, but by that point Heart would be inside the room, and then… well, he’d figure out what to do then.
He reached the ICU by circuitous means a few moments later. It wasn’t busy today, thankfully. Nobody noticed him initially. Heart walked purposefully down the hallway until he spotted the other retainer standing outside the curtained door to what must’ve been the room in question. Heart took a steadying breath and looked around for something he could divert the woman with without doing harm to anyone who happened to be relying on the delicate equipment filling the space.
Taking a chance, he put forth his will and projected a loud, percussive pop just around the corner. He instantly felt guilty as the retainer straightened and ran towards the sound that threw everyone into a sudden state of panic. She’s one of the good ones, Heart thought. Then he made his way towards the door to the patient’s room and slipped inside.
The room was dim, the beginnings of sunrise filtering in through the windows. A small vase of flowers was on a side table beside the bed, and the steady beep of the heart monitor echoed in the space. Heart took a breath to steady himself—all the medical chemicals in the room couldn’t mask the scent of imminent death.
The only question was, why wasn’t she dead? Heart moved towards the bed. He wasn’t a Mender, and his Sixth Sense was only passable when it came to examining people, but he knew a little about anatomy. Perhaps he could—
Tiffany’s hand suddenly moved whip-crack fast, and seized Heart by the wrist, nearly making him jump through the ceiling. Her head was wrapped in bandages, but Heart could see one uncovered eye staring at him with a fierce intensity. Tiffany, who played basketball at the Hearth community center. Who loved gardening and flowers. The memory came fresh and sharp, now.
“Jonathan,” she said. And her voice was raspy, but painfully familiar now that he heard it again. He recognized the tone of someone fighting, second by second, to stay conscious. “M-Michael. Are you… are you still… with Michael? Does he still… love you?”
The realization that he no longer knew was an aching cut to Heart’s chest. Nonetheless, he had to know what she knew. Heart covered her hand with his and said “I hope so. I’m going to find him. What is it?”
Tiffany closed her eyes. Heart felt her marshaling every ounce of strength that remained to her. “Tell him,” she said “that we—the Tenders—tried to keep the Founder’s Tree healthy and thriving… even after his family was killed. We tried to find him. Tried… to find out… who would replace us, when we grew old.”
She took a rattling breath. “The what?” Heart asked.
“The tree,” she sounded half delirious. “The tree… exists to plug a tear in the Veil. To keep the Vacant Ones out. But it was old, and without the Schwans to fund our work… we were worried.”
She paused. “Then he came. A man… knew… knew about us. Knew our work. He claimed he knew a ritual that would… revitalize the tree. Empower it. Strengthen it… maybe even make it immortal.” She coughed and Heart saw red froth appear at her lips. “We s-should’ve known better. Wasn’t until the ritual was almost… prepared that I realized that it… would take more aether than… than can be gathered, without human sacrifice.”
She shook her head. “We refused to work with him anymore. And reached out… to Carlyle for help.” Another cough followed. “The night we were supposed to meet Carlyle, the man we helped… ambushed us with a white glassblade. Killed everyone. L-left my life hanging by a thread.”
Her eye locked onto Heart. He heard her voice break. “Wish I could say… was for a good reason… he wanted me to tell Michael… ‘you abandoned them all.’”
Tiffany’s hand gripped Heart’s wrist so hard it hurt. “Find Michael. I d-don’t know what… the man who did this is planning… but it’s nothing good. He… he’s going to kill… a lot of people.”
“The ritual,” Heart urged. “Please. Tell me everything you can. I’ll find Michael, I promise, but I need more. The man, what was his name? What was—”
“S-sorry, Jonathan,” she choked. “I ca—”
Her hand went slack. The heart rate monitor went flat.
Heart heard noises outside the door. Fuck.
He looked down at the dead woman in her bed and cast his gaze around the room. Dashing towards the door, he put himself just to its left as it opened, putting him behind it. The retainer burst into the room, sweeping her gaze around. “Oh, shit,” she said, looking at the bed. “Oh, fuck oh fuck oh fuck.”
Reaching into her pocket she produced a smartphone and hit a button. “Princess Alexandra?” Heart heard her say “you need to contact Prince Adrian. Tiffany Silverton has just died.”
Heart slipped out around the edge of the door and was nearly out of the room when the woman turned, her sword flashing free from its sheath with a crack. Before she could bring it on-line, Heart summoned his will and used one of his few physical tricks, making a bright flash and a loud bang in the air between them, momentarily blinding her. Hopefully before she got a good look at his face.
He ran. Two orderlies barred his path as Heart charged towards the stairwell. Heart grabbed a cart of food and shoved it into them. Both men doubled over and he vaulted between them. He opened the door to the stairs and put a warding block on the door. It wouldn’t stop any Wielder worth a damn, but it would block mortals from pursuit. That was all he needed. He was out the doors at the bottom and out of the hospital in moments, hurtling down the street at a full sprint. He had to get to his car. Everything was far more dire than he could’ve begun to guess. Throwing himself behind the wheel of his car he started away from the park, heading towards downtown.
He stopped in a random parking lot in Hilltop. The sun was up, now, the city coming to life, blissfully unaware of the disaster looming over it. Heart pulled out his phone. He hesitated for a moment, knowing how poorly it was all going to go, but in this moment, it was his best chance. He hit Jacob’s name and pulled the phone up to his ear.
At length, the Prince answered, and Heart heard a voice heavy with grief and exhaustion. “Now’s not the time, Heart.”
“My Prince,” Heart started, “I have dire news—”
“I’ve managed to stop a war, today,” Jacob Vallais answered. “And I have destroyed my honor to attain it.”
Heart’s blood chilled. “My Prince?”
“House Weber and House Castel… abandoned our side on the Council floor. They bought Alexandra’s story, that Michael was responsible. That it was our fault that Mark was killed and Autumn was wounded. House Pierce and House Adelin have agreed not to bring war against us in retaliation,” Jacob said, “and in return, House Vallais has given up our Council vote for one year.”
You made concessions, Heart thought.
Heart’s mouth hung open. He had nothing to say for a moment.
“I had to do it, of course,” Jacob continued. “We do not have the strength to fight Houses Adelin, Tyre, and Pierce. Even if the Webers and Castels stood beside us, it would not be a sure thing, and the blood of my family would run in the streets. I have to… I have to think of our children. Our kin. Our…”
He took a deep breath, and Heart realized his liege was close to tears. “My liege,” Heart started, “what… what is happening?”
“Michael Schwan is being held responsible for the events at Wright Park. A manhunt has begun for him. In the interests… in the interests of securing the city against threat, the Adelins and their allies have voted to initiate a Crackdown against the Commoners. All of them.” He forced himself to go on. “Heart, they’re starting with Hearth Community Center. The Adelins believe the Undercourt are using it to train resistance fighters and dissidents. I know… I know you used to go there and I—I don’t know why I’m telling you, but if you still know anyone there, it’s time to tell them to get out.”
“My Liege,” Heart knew it was a failed effort even before he started, but he had to try. “We can’t… we can’t be party to this. We can’t—”
“No,” Jacob said. “I have refused to allow Vallais family members or retainers to participate in this… act. But neither will we interfere. It is the Council’s will, Heart. I recommend you take your time off and get some rest. Or a stiff drink.”
“My Liege, may I speak candidly?”
The voice on the other end of the connection was a wreck. “This once.”
“Surely,” Heart said, “surely there are some things for which it is worth risking it all?”
There was a long silence, then Heart heard his Prince whisper “I’m sorry, Heart.”
The call ended, leaving Heart alone and stunned in his car. He put a hand over his mouth, dropping the phone to the floor. Then, for all his fortitude and cleverness, he realized that he had no idea what to do.
His head sank to the steering wheel, and Heart sobbed.