“It was Agni. He came after us with Hellfire.”
Villiam closes his eyes and takes a deep, staggered breath. “He’s been...shaken since his son was taken. I thought the work was good for him. But...our informants were certain. Where is Agni? I want to speak with him immediately.”
“Agni is dead,” I say quietly, feeling almost guilty when I see the stricken expression on my father’s face.
Villiam covers his mouth with his hand and takes a deep breath. “And Luca?”
“He’s in my tent. So are the others. They’ll tell you what happened.”
We hurry back to my tent, where Nicoleta has managed to awaken Luca. As soon as we enter, I have the urge to release all the illusions, to sit among what remains of my family and let Villiam clear our problems away. It’s over. It’s over at last.
Luca watches us approach with wide eyes.
“Sorina. No,” he says weakly.
“What happened?” Villiam asks. “Is everyone all right?”
“No,” Luca says again, a panicked expression on his face. “It’s him, Sorina. He’s the mind-worker. He’s been a jynx-worker all along.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
My heart leaps into my throat. No, that’s impossible. What is Luca talking about? He’s obviously mistaken, and I turn to Villiam, ready to apologize, to make excuses for Luca’s confusion.
Villiam takes a few steps closer to Luca, hobbling on his crutches. Nicoleta lunges in between them, as if protecting him, as if she believes him.
Before I can think about what’s happening, I hastily hoist Luca’s and Nicoleta’s Strings into their Trunks. Luca is disoriented, and neither of them know Villiam like I do. I’m tired of the accusations. Tired of jumping to conclusions. Villiam doesn’t have any jynx-work. And he’d never hurt anyone in our family.
Nevertheless, my pulse quickens, and I’m hyperaware of the silence in the tent.
“You put them away?” Villiam says.
“Yes. What were they talking about?” I ask.
“I have no idea,” he says. “They looked traumatized, which isn’t surprising after what Agni did. We’ve both known Agni for years—this is a shock for everyone. To think that he’d be driven to this point... And I can’t blame anyone more than myself...”
Why would Luca think Villiam is a jynx-worker or that he had anything to do with this? I take a few steps away from him, hating myself as I do so. It’s only Villiam. My father. The man who’s watched over me for years. I don’t need to protect myself from him.
Luca must’ve made a mistake. Did he hear Agni talking about Villiam? Or is he only jumping to conclusions, since Agni is Villiam’s assistant?
“Can I make you some tea, my dear?” Villiam asks. When I shake my head, he takes a seat on the floor and motions for me to join him. I do, leaning my head against his shoulder, my thoughts twisted.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“I...” My mouth runs dry as I picture the fire. The cruelty in Agni’s voice. The horror of finding Luca unconscious in the cage, of realizing he’s my illusion. It’s been too much. I can’t possibly begin to process it all.
“I want to help you, but you need to talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what happened.”
I hesitate. I can’t help it—I’m tense. Why do I always trust Luca’s judgment more than my own? I can think for myself, but it seems as if I always listen to everyone else before I trust my own instincts. When I ran to Villiam, the first thing he did was make sure we were all safe. Why would he do that if he was involved?
But I need to ask questions, even if they’re difficult. Gill, Blister and Venera died because I opted for easy answers to difficult questions, and it’s time I assume responsibility. Even though Villiam is innocent, I need to ask...
Then, suddenly, my train of thought stumbles. I just made Luca disappear, yet Villiam hasn’t asked how that was possible.
I lift my head off his shoulder. “Aren’t you surprised that Luca is an illusion?” I ask. “I just made him disappear, after all.”
He clears his throat. “I figured you would tell me when you’re ready. I didn’t want to push you...”
But his words don’t ring true. Villiam has helped me create all of my illusions, so if I’d made another one without telling him, he would be shocked—hurt, even. I share all of my illusion plans with him, every step of the processes.
I stand up and put several feet between us. “Luca said you’re a mind-worker. Is that true?” My breath quickens, and all the anxiety of the past month seems to hit me one hundredfold. I’m stupid, stupid, stupid.
I search Villiam’s eyes as my question lingers in the air. It felt silly to even ask it. Of course he’ll tell me he’s not a jynx-worker. He’ll laugh. The idea is...preposterous.
“I don’t like lying to you, Sorina,” he says, avoiding my face. His words make my knees almost give out. “I’m a mind-worker with a talent for peering into people’s memories and meddling with them as I wish.”
My heart leaps into my throat. That isn’t true. It can’t be true.
“It’s been safer to keep it hidden. Do you think the Up-Mountain officials would want to interact with Gomorrah if they knew the proprietor could twist their very minds? Hiding it has brought prosperity to the Festival. I’ve brought us to more and farther places than any proprietor before me.”
“You’re the reason I forgot about Luca,” I say. “It was you. Have you been killing the illusions, too? Has it been you all along?”
The resigned expression on his face is all the answer I need. I stumble back in horror.
“How could you do this to me? To our family?” I cry out.
He looks at me sadly, pityingly, as if I’m still the na?ve child he rescued all those years ago. “This has never been about you. I have only done what was needed to protect Gomorrah. I must take my responsibilities as proprietor more seriously than my role as your father, which you ought to understand. Even you have risked your life for Gomorrah, bravely, selflessly.” He sighs and holds his face in his hands. I should run from him, run far away, but I’m rooted to the spot. I have to hear him out. I have to understand.
And then I’ll run. I’ll leave Gomorrah and never look back. We can start over in the Down-Mountains. We’ll find some place to be a family again. To be safe again.
I squirm away from him.
“Your illusions are the imaginary friends of a child,” he says, his voice suddenly cold and condescending. “They’ve never been real. I never hurt them myself, not that it matters to you, I’m sure.” He stands and approaches me, but I back away. I don’t know what he means to do—hug me? Plead forgiveness? But I don’t want him anywhere near me. He doesn’t sound like my father.
A spark of madness twinkles in his eyes. “But the others we’ve killed together...the princess, the duke, the prince...they were very real. Together, you and I are creating the war that will save the Down-Mountains and millions of people. The Alliance shall fall.”