He glanced at the closed door and flicked his eyes down the hall, signaling that we should walk. He wanted to get away from Marisol’s office, and that meant he had something to tell me that she didn’t know.
I walked beside him down the hallway, expecting him to pause and fill me in on this secret changeling. But he continued through the administrative wing, and we crossed over into the residential quarters. As we moved through the fortress, people skirted glances at us, some of them wary but most of them respectful. Oliver was Marisol’s champion and her first sworn follower. But aside from all that, he was pure badass from head to toe. He looked like an ancient warrior, with almost impossibly broad shoulders, cropped hair with horizontal stripes shaved into the sides, and searing intensity that never dropped from his aventurine-green eyes.
We finally reached his apartment, and the door opened automatically under his touch, having been charmed to recognize him. His quarters were sparse, not unlike my own apartment. He didn’t ask me to sit down or offer me anything.
I crossed my arms, waiting for him to do a sweep of the place. This check wasn’t just about the ninja breach. He did it every time he came home. Oliver wasn’t a trusting man.
After he finished, he rejoined me in the tiny living room that was furnished with only an easy chair, ottoman, side table, and floor lamp. Not only did he tend to not trust others, he also wasn’t interested in playing host.
He pulled out his phone and held it so I could see the screen. On it was a photo of an attractive, smiling girl with blond hair pulled up into a sleek bun. It was a tight shot, one that had probably included other people but had been cropped down to her face. In it, I could clearly see the tawny yellow-flecked brown eyes that were strangely similar to mine.
He was watching my face. “The changeling’s name is Nicole. She’s your sister.”
Chapter 6
I PEERED AT him out of the corners of my eyes, at first thinking it must be a joke. Then I remembered I’d never heard Oliver tell a joke in my life.
Still, I waited for a moment on the off chance there might be a punch line coming.
After several seconds of silence, I blinked. “Come again?”
“She was placed as a baby right after the two of you were born. She’s your twin.”
My arms were crossed over my chest but suddenly seemed to lose the tension necessary to hold them there. My hands slipped down to my sides as I stared at my father.
I shook my head. “I have a twin?” I blinked again.
“Marisol knows of the changeling, but not that she’s your sister,” he said.
My brows rose halfway up my forehead.
He looked off to the side, his jaw muscles flexing and releasing, flexing and releasing. He looked uncomfortable. That made me twitchy. I preferred stoic Oliver.
“I swore to your mother that I’d keep her secret, and the only loophole was if there came a time one of you was in danger,” he said finally. He heaved a sigh, and just when I thought he was going to refuse to say more, he continued. “Right after the Cataclysm, Marisol had a prophetic vision. She saw herself ruling a Fae kingdom, her throne built upon the bloodied bodies of a set of New Gargoyle twin girls who were conceived exactly a year after the Cataclysm. One was fair and the other dark haired. She named them the ‘sisters of sacrifice.’ Marisol told me of the prophecy, and I repeated it to your mother. I shouldn’t have broken Marisol’s confidence that way, but . . . I did. When your mother had you and Nicole, she panicked. She was sure the sisters in the vision were her daughters. I tried to tell her that sometimes visions are symbolic, not literal, but this one was too specific. Your mother was already quite unstable by then, and she nearly went mad with fear. She was mad for a time, threatening to kill one of you to keep Marisol from killing both of you. I convinced her to let me hide Nicole.”
A soft breeze could have knocked me over. I’d never heard Oliver speak so many words at once. I’d never heard him admit to a mistake in judgment. I’d never, ever considered that I had a sibling somewhere out there. What in the name of Oberon was happening to the world?
“But if I go get her, Marisol will find out,” I said.
“You’re not identical,” Oliver said. “And with care, we’ll be able to keep the secret. Just in case your mother’s concerns had any merit.”
I slowly shook my head. I really, really didn’t like that Oliver seemed to think there might actually be some stock in my mother’s mad fears for her daughters.
“Prophecies aren’t for certain,” he said. “And the Stone Order may never become the Stone Court. But if it does, I won’t take the chance.”
In theory, he was right. Generally speaking, prophecies didn’t always bear out. But all of Marisol’s prophecies—the ones that were made public, anyway—had come to pass. And as for the formation of the Stone Court, it was her sole obsession in life. If there was any possibility of making it happen, she would find a way. I didn’t doubt she’d do it at the cost of blood.
“Marisol is determined to get Nicole away from King Periclase,” he said. “Nicole is New Gargoyle, and Marisol won’t let a single New Garg slip through her fingers if she can help it. Besides, Nicole is our family.”
Family. Oliver had been my only family for my entire life.
“How did anyone even discover that Nicole is part New Garg?” I asked. “Her magic surely hasn’t come in yet.”
“Periclase had her blood divined,” Oliver said. “And Marisol acquired the information that Nicole has New Gargoyle blood.”
Blood divining was a special type of Fae magic. It didn’t tell you who your parents were, but it revealed the races that ran through your blood.
“I’m surprised Marisol doesn’t want to send you,” I said.
“I’m too high profile. Everyone knows I’m one of Marisol’s closest advisors, but I don’t go on diplomatic trips. My position is military, and it wouldn’t help discussions to send a high-ranking military man on a diplomatic mission. It would look aggressive.”
“But won’t it raise suspicion if I go? I’m not exactly the first on board when it comes to forwarding the interests of the Stone Order.” I knew it sounded cold, as if I were begrudging his request to go to the aid of my own blood, but that wasn’t it. I still had questions. And I really needed to know whether there was anything else Oliver was holding back. I had the uneasy feeling that there was.
“I wanted you to go,” he said. “I suggested you.”
I regarded him for a moment. This was his daughter we were talking about. I could understand why he wanted to send me after her. If he couldn’t go himself, I was the next best thing.
“Does King Periclase know who Nicole is? He couldn’t, I guess.”
“I can’t imagine he does.”
My brow furrowed with sudden worry. “But I’ll have to bring her here to the fortress. She’ll be right under Marisol’s nose. Doesn’t that seem, I don’t know, dangerous in light of that bloody-ass prophecy?”