Before me stood a dried bush, barely more than a skeleton, just a few brown leaves clinging to its twigs. On the topmost branch perched a brown-and-gray sparrow, its black eyes bright.
Thank you for the crumbs, it said.
My throat itched and stuck to itself as I swallowed. “You,” I whispered. “You’re the Lar of this house.”
You could say that. Others might not.
“Are you one of the Kindly Ones?” I asked.
Nothing so young or foolish.
“Then what are you?”
It launched into the air and landed on my hand, tiny claws pricking my skin. I am grateful for your kindness.
Dry leaves crackled behind me; dry, hot air stirred against the back of my neck. I whirled, sure that someone had passed behind me, but saw nothing.
“And where is this?” I asked.
That depends, said the sparrow, on why you are here.
I was here because Shade had betrayed me. But now that didn’t seem so important. And it wasn’t the real reason anyway.
“I’m looking for the truth about this house,” I said. “About Arcadia. I have to save us all.”
Then look in the pool, said the sparrow.
I realized that at the center of the garden was a great round pool lined with marble. At first I thought it was empty. Then as I stepped closer, I thought it was full of perfectly clear water; but when I stood at the rim, I realized that it was filled with liquid light.
All times are gathered here, said the sparrow. You might see something useful.
I knelt; the marble rim was cool and smooth beneath my fingers. My eyes did not want to focus on the liquid glimmer. It was worse than the library had ever been; just a moment’s attention made my eyes ache and water, while my body shuddered with the need to look away. But I forced myself to look down into the coruscating ripples, hanging on to the rim with cramping fingers, my breath coming in choked gasps, until I thought I saw a shadow—a face—
Blue eyes looked back at me. As if that gaze were the key, the next instant the garden was gone and so was my body, swept away in a whirl of light and images. The visions streamed through me, burning like fire, and each one replaced another of my memories. I tried to fight, to cling to my memories and myself, but I had no fingers to grip them, no skin to separate me from this.
Helplessly, I saw a castle, and forgot my father’s house. I saw a garden, and forgot my Hermetic diagrams. I saw a blue-eyed boy, and forgot Astraia. They swept through me until I forgot to fight, forgot that I had ever been anything but a palimpsest of memories overwritten by visions.
I saw the Sundering. And I forgot that I existed.
When I finally came back to myself, I was collapsed at the edge of the pool, the edge of the marble rim cutting into my cheek, dust in my mouth and half-dried tears itching on my cheeks. My teeth ached and I tasted blood.
But I was real. And alive.
And I finally knew the truth.
The sparrow stood beside me on the ground, and though a bird has no expressions, I could have sworn there was compassion in its tiny black eyes.
Go, said the sparrow. Go. You cannot bear this much reality.
The air burned in my lungs.
Go, said the sparrow again, and everything frayed into light.
When I woke, at first I noticed nothing except a bird and the throbbing pain in my head.
After a few breaths, I realized that the bird was woven into the lace curtains of my bed. I could just make it out in the flickering candlelight that—dim as it was—stabbed through my head. I moaned softly, shifting, and realized someone was huddled against me. Ignifex.
In a moment he was sitting up, leaning over me, crimson eyes wide with worry. There must not have been quite enough candles in the room, for the darkness nibbled at the edges of his face, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Nyx,” he said. “Can you hear me?”
And I knew. In that moment, I knew his name and the knowledge set my heart hammering.
“You,” I whispered. “I was—and you were—”
“I got you out. Away from him.” He growled the last word.
“Shade.” The name came out like a sob.
His hand ghosted over my face. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Don’t,” I said fuzzily. “It’s not—he’s also—” But my tongue wouldn’t move anymore and I sank back into sleep.
18
When I woke again, it was daylight. Ignifex was no longer huddled against me but sat on the side of the bed, his arms crossed. When I moved, he raised an eyebrow.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
I sat up. My vision swam a moment and I took a slow, deep breath. Ignifex reached for my shoulder but I swatted his hand away.
“I’m all right,” I said. My head would stop hurting eventually. “What happened?”
Ignifex’s mouth twisted. “That thing—” He paused. “Shade tried to kill you. I found you screaming. He’s locked up now.”
I blinked at the blue ripples of the coverlet over my legs. “No,” I said, because that story wasn’t right. Something more had happened.