Thorns (19 page)

The song ended, and the couples drew apart. Ann made a beeline for me. I kept my hand with the key closed, because I had no pockets in my dress in which to hide it. She stopped by my chair and lowered her voice as her eyes darted around the room.

“We need to talk now. Please.”

A perfect reason to leave the room. I let her lead me into the hall and through the foyer. I tried not to look too longingly at the stairs as we passed them. We stepped into a servants’ hallway that opened off the main level, and Ann shut the door behind us. It was all so familiar, and yet so backward from the last party I’d been at in this house.

She turned to me, eyes downcast. She drew in a deep breath. “Lia… I don’t know what to say.”

I waited. A mixture of emotions rose in my chest—the betrayal I felt, along with the memory of Adam’s words and what I’d witnessed earlier. “Why?” I asked after a pause.

Sadness pooled in her eyes. “I can’t explain everything right now. I wish I could. Please believe me—I didn’t want to let him question you. But I had no choice!”

“I understand,” I said, and I meant it. I knew what desperation felt like.

She shook her head. “But you won’t forgive me?”

A sigh welled in my lungs and hissed from my lips. I could only be honest with her. “Ask me again in a few weeks.”

She nodded and reached for the door. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she didn’t even try to wipe it away. “We should get back.”

My chest tightened. The key burned in my hand.

This was my moment.

Instead of following Ann down the hall toward the dining room, I hesitated by the stairs. She was hurrying so fast she didn’t notice that I hadn’t accompanied her, and I watched until she’d slipped through the doors before I turned to gaze up at the landing of the second floor. The steps of polish oak gleamed in the lamplight. They beckoned me. I threw a glance over my shoulder to make sure the foyer was empty. No servants or guest were in sight.

My feet whispered against the wood as I ascended the stairs. My heart pounded with every step. My palms tingled. In my head, I rehearsed my excuses if anyone caught me—I was looking for Ann, I had to borrow something I left in the room, I was lost. They all sounded laughably false to me.

Better not get caught, then.

I reached the landing and paused. A corridor lined with portraits led right and left—right to the Mayor’s study, left to Ann’s room. I went right.

Darkness lingered in this part of the house. The gas lamps flickered low in their sockets, and no windows let in any glimmer of the sunset. I moved carefully, quietly. When I reached the corner, I held my breath and listened for the footsteps of a servant or guard. But I heard nothing.

I turned the corner and saw the door to the Mayor’s study. My heart pounded, and perspiration broke out across my palms. I grasped the key tightly between my fingers and inserted it into the lock. I heard the soft click, and I pushed the door open.

A boom shook the house. Energy rippled through me, and heat singed my hair as the Mayor’s study exploded in flames.

THE EXPLOSION THREW me back against the far wall. Pain ripped through my head and neck. I tasted blood. My ears were ringing.

Smoke poured through the open door, and I saw the dull gleam of flames rising from the Mayor’s desk.

Had someone set a
bomb
?

The Blackcoats. I was sure of it.

I scrambled up and snatched the key from the lock. It was too hot to go inside. Surely the map was incinerated by now.

The smoke burned my lungs and reduced me to a coughing fit. I found the wall with my hand and forged ahead blindly as my lungs heaved and water streamed from my eyes.

Smoke was pouring down the stairs and filling the foyer by the time I reached the landing. Guests stumbled from the dining hall, coughing, and Farther soldiers rushed inside with their weapons drawn.

No one had noticed me at the stairs. I made a sweep of the room, but everything was in chaos and nobody was paying me any attention. Ann shouted orders as people streamed toward the exits. Lifting my skirt, I darted down the steps and joined the people leaving the house.

Outside, Officer Raine shouted orders while the Mayor paced. The Elder families lingered at a distance like a herd of startled deer, as if they didn’t know whether to stay or slip away into the gathering dusk.

My lungs burned from the smoke, and I doubled over coughing. I hacked until I saw stars, and when I finally straightened the yard had filled with people whispering and pointing at the flames and smoke pouring from the second story of the house. I swept the group with my gaze. Where was Ann?

I scanned the yard for her, but saw no sign of her bright blonde hair. Suddenly my chest was squeezing and my stomach was twisting.

“Ann!” I screamed.

I ran back for the door, but before I reached it a booted foot kicked it open, and Korr emerged carrying Ann in his arms.

“Oh,” I gasped, stepping aside. He carried her to the snow and set her down gently. Her cheeks were pale, and she bent over coughing after her feet touched the ground.

Korr straightened, keeping one hand on Ann’s arm to steady her. His dark hair stirred in the wind as he gazed up at the second story of the house, where smoke streamed from the shattered window of the study, and his eyes narrowed in a squint as he turned his gaze on the rest of us as if looking for a culprit.

“Do your men have this under control, too?” he asked Raine in a low, furious voice. It was the first time I’d seen him truly angry.

He thought it was the Blackcoats, too.

I remembered the key in my hand. I didn’t need it now. I uncurled my fingers and let it fall into the snow beneath a bush.

If they found it on me, they’d suspect me.

The evening was startlingly cold, and I didn’t have my cloak. I shivered in the wind as Raine and Korr exchanged angry words in heated whispers.

Ann glanced in my direction but didn’t move toward me. The expression on her face told me to go, and so I did, slipping through the garden and toward the center of the village. I tucked my numb fingers under my arms and ran to warm myself as my mind swam with questions.

Had the Blackcoats set fire to the Mayor’s study? It had to have been them. Was this their way of demonstrating that the people of the village were not as happy about the occupation? Or had they been trying to injure Officer Raine, the Mayor, Ann?

Surely their trap was for the Mayor. Who else would have been injured if the bomb was set to detonate when the door was opened?

My head ached along with my smoke-stung lungs. My thoughts swirled like frightened birds. I struggled to focus.

Adam was waiting at the quota yard. I needed to find him.

I reached the center of the village, where villagers had already begun to gather and point at the column of smoke rising from the Mayor’s house at the top of the hill. I sank into the shadows, avoiding everyone’s gaze. Where was Adam?

A shadow detached from a doorway and slid toward me. Adam. I continued walking until I reached an alley, and then I slipped into the darkness and waited.

He leaned against the wall beside me. “Well?”

Breathlessly, I explained what had happened.

He listened without interrupting, his gaze intent on my face. The only movement he made was to remove his cloak and drop it over my shoulders when he saw I’d lost mine. I burrowed into the soft folds gratefully and concluded by saying, “I think it may have been the Blackcoats.”

“You may be right,” he mused. “But I did not think they were so clever as to plant a bomb in the Mayor’s locked study. Were they trying to send a message to the Aeralians, or injure the Mayor and his family?”

“I wondered the same thing,” I said. “Leon told me only hours ago that they had plans. This must have been it.”

“Either way, this is good for us,” he said. “It buys us time. The map has been destroyed, surely, and the Farthers are going to be focusing on catching the culprits rather than worrying about any residual Thorns influence. Now go home, Lia Weaver, before the Watchers slither out of the woods.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“I’ll be fine. I have things to do still.”

“I can help.”

“You can help by making sure your siblings are all right. Go home, please.”

I didn’t remember that I had his cloak until he was already gone.

I PUT AWAY Ann’s servant uniform and Adam’s cloak and tugged on one of my woolen nightgowns as soon as I got back to the house. Ivy was asleep in her bed, her arms thrown above her head, her body curled into a contorted shape. The rise and fall of her chest comforted me, and I lingered by her pillow to watch her sleep for a few minutes before descending the stairs to the main room.

Jonn waited by the fire. The light from the fire licked at his face and made shadows around his eyes and mouth. He didn’t turn to look at me, but I felt his attention all the same. I paused at the bottom of the stairs, and a million unspoken words crowded into my mouth.

Jonn was my brother. We’d been through everything together, and he’d been one of my closest confidants once. Now we were barely speaking, and Ann and I were practically estranged. The pressure of having everyone I loved gone or angry or untrustworthy felt like a pile of stones strapped to my back. I sighed. What should I do?

He turned his head. “You came home in Adam’s cloak.” It was a statement and a question.

“I lost mine,” I said, and then I hesitated. The truth of what had happened was so huge, so overwhelming. “Someone blew up the Mayor’s study, and we had to evacuate the house.”

“A bomb?”

I sank into a chair and rubbed my eyes. “Some sort of crude explosive device. Smoke was everywhere. I hit my head… The whole party had to evacuate into the snow.” I stared off into space. Details kept striking me, little things. The way Korr had carried Ann, as if she were made of glass. The column of smoke leaking into the sky from the top of the house. The way Adam’s eyes had softened ever so slightly when he’d given me his cloak. “I left my cloak behind at the Mayor’s house. It’s probably lost now.”

“Do you think the whole house will burn?” Jonn asked.

“I…maybe not.” Raine’s men would put it out, perhaps. I thought of Ann, with no place to go and night falling. Where would she stay?

“You should use one of Ma’s,” he said, still talking about my cloak.

“Good idea,” I said, still thinking of Ann. Was she all alone tonight? Surely her father would make sure she was all right. But she had no siblings to care for her, not the way I did. I lifted my gaze to my brother, and found him watching me.

“Lia,” he said, and stopped. His face crumpled.

Something in my chest loosened. My throat squeezed up with tears, and we looked at each other, and then we were both talking at once.

“I’m so sorry—”

“I can’t do this—”

We laughed shakily together, and some of the tension in my chest turned into hopefulness. “You first,” I said.

He rubbed a hand through his hair. “No, you.”

“All right.” I breathed in deeply, choosing my words carefully. “I am so sorry about what I said to you. I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that I don’t need you. I do need you. I’m about to break. I’ve got nobody to lean on and nowhere to turn, and everything is going wrong. I need my brother.”

“I can help you,” he said.

I nodded. My throat felt tight, and my eyes burned, but I didn’t cry. I wasn’t a crier. When he smiled hesitantly at me, the room felt lighter and warmer. I crossed to the fire and perched in the chair beside him. “All right,” I said.

“All right?”

We’d said nothing and everything. I didn’t know where this left us, but somehow a breach had been healed. I breathed easier, my chest felt lighter and my mouth curved in an involuntary smile of pure relief.

I had him back.

“No more secrets,” I promised. “Not from you.”

“Well, then.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows against his knees. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Jonn listened thoughtfully as I poured out a description of our travels to Echlos and our search for the mysterious device. His forehead wrinkled as I talked about the documents we’d searched, and he chewed his lip but didn’t ask questions or interrupt. When I’d finished, he leaned back and stared at the fire.

“What?” I demanded finally, when I couldn’t stand it any longer. “What are you thinking?”

He tipped his head to the side, his eyes unfocused and thoughtful. “Our parents knew about this, I think.”

I didn’t remember Adam mentioning it. “Why do you say that?”

“They have a history with Echlos. Da wrote about it in his journals. If this thing is important, and Adam Brewer thinks he can find information to its location in a bunch of old documents, then I think our parents might have something about it in one of their papers.”

I considered this. It made sense. “All right,” I said. “So we look through their things.”

He stared hard at the flames. He swallowed hard. “And if I find it, you’ll let me join the Thorns?”

“I—it’s not up to me.”

“Promise me, Lia.” His voice was suddenly fierce. “I can’t be useless like this forever.”

“You aren’t useless.”

He speared me with an exasperated look.

“I’ll talk to Adam,” I conceded. “But I can’t promise…”

“It makes sense for me to be involved,” he argued. “Our parents worked as a team before, didn’t they? Why can’t we take their place together? I already know about the Thorns, and I live in this house, too.”

“It does make sense,” I admitted. “But Adam’s unpredictable. I don’t know what he’ll say.”

“I think he’ll say yes, if you’re asking,” Jonn said.

I paused. “Why do you say that?”

“Never mind.” He reached for the yarn basket beside his chair, but I snagged his wrist and squeezed, dragging his attention back to me.

“Why?”

“It’s nothing. It was a careless remark. You and Adam are friends, that’s all.”

“Well,” I breathed, leaning back and letting go. “I suppose we are.”