What is Hidden (13 page)

“Please tell me.” His gray eyes held mine, and I couldn’t look away.

I took a deep breath. “You know about the fire. And I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors. It was the Chameleon.”

He inhaled sharply and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Evie, what did he do to you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to upset you,” I mumbled. “And I didn’t know what to do. I was still trying to make sense of everything when you found me, and it never really came up since then.” I trailed off, unnerved by the ferocity in his eyes.

He released me and ran a hand through his messy curls,
cursing under his breath. “Did he hurt you? Did he even
touch
you?”

Dr. Vito’s rejection and repulsion flashed in my memory. I couldn’t tell Aiden the truth. I couldn’t. “No. I just . . . saw him leave.”

“How did you know it was him?”

“He had Papa’s mask, but it was clear that man wasn’t my father.” His taunting laughter echoed through my mind. “It couldn’t have been anyone else.”

Aiden began pacing across the workroom. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had a position on the Council,” I snapped.

He paused mid-step, then resumed and said, “Fine. We both have secrets.”

I frowned. “You’re not allowed to be mad at me about this.”

He sighed and his face softened. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . I don’t like not being able to do anything.”

“I don’t like it either.”

We sat in silence for so long that I considered picking my work back up.

“Did you even get to hold a memorial for your father?” he finally asked.

“No.” I didn’t have anything of him left.

He seemed to remember that fact a moment too late and winced. “I know we can’t hold a traditional one, but I think even a makeshift one would help. Give you closure, you know?”

I bit my lip. “What are you suggesting?”

“Do you have anything of his at all? Or could you get anything from your house?”

Traditionally, we burned our deceased and scattered the ashes in the ocean, then displayed their mask in the home.

“I don’t think the Chameleon left any of his masks behind.”

“It doesn’t have to be a mask,” he said, growing insistent. “It could be anything of his. I could go back with you to look.”

I didn’t want to go back to my burnt husk of a home. But he was looking at me with so much conviction that this was what I needed that I couldn’t tell him no.

“No, I want to go by myself. I think I have enough free time the day after tomorrow to go back and look.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?”

“I’ll be fine.”

I would be fine if it killed me.

* * *

“You’re leaving early today,” Emma remarked with a frown as she watched me clean up my station. I’d wanted to leave without being noticed, but thanks to her, everyone near me turned to look. Joch included. Not that he actually deigned to say anything, but his posture spoke volumes.

“I have some family business to take care of,” I said, hoping she’d leave me alone.

Unfortunately, she was never satisfied with only a crumb where there was a cookie. “Oh? Everything well?”

“No. Memorial.” I shot her a dirty look. She snapped her mouth shut but frowned.

“Well, you didn’t have to be rude about it,” she muttered as she walked to the other side of the room and inspected another girl’s work.

“You didn’t have to be nosy about it,” I mumbled back for no one but myself to hear, and I quickly finished putting my things away. Joch was still frowning at me as I pushed my hair back and gave my station one last check. “What?” I glared at him.

His frown deepened, and he just shook his head.

I decided to ignore him. I had bigger things to worry about, and I pushed both him and Emma from my mind as I slipped from the palace and returned to the streets. The sounds and smells washed over me with a surprising strength. I’d been in the palace for only a few days; I didn’t expect to miss things like the dank smell of the canal water or the shrill calls of the seagulls.

But this wasn’t my life anymore.

My former home appeared too soon, its scorched walls glaring at me. I felt accusation in its shadow, its gaping windows cold and hostile despite the bright light of day.

This wasn’t my home anymore.

Glancing around, I snuck around back and stepped inside. The streets were crowded enough that no one noticed me, and I wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. Every muscle in my body was alert, the memory of that fiery night burning steadily in the corners of my vision.

I moved silently through the hall to Papa’s room, scanning it quickly for any personal belongings. His room was a mess. Clearly the Chameleon had been searching in here for something. My eyes settled on the leather-bound journal peeking out from under his bed, and I was confused. It seemed like something the thief would have wanted.

I picked it up and flipped through the pages, my papa’s familiar handwriting making my heart clench.

It was his work notes. It held nothing of his personal life, which must have been why it wasn’t stolen. Instead it held notes about the masks he’d made, about our clients, and about our work. There were diagrams detailed enough that I’d be able to pick up where he’d left off, even if someone’s mask had been completely destroyed and I had to start from scratch.

This was as much a part of him as his mask.

I tucked it into my sash and scanned the room once more, looking for something I could burn and scatter. I sat on the bed and realized with a start that his pillow still smelled like him—like paint, and the sea, and Papa. I could almost hear his voice, and my eyes watered.

I gathered the pillow up in my arms and fled the building.

Aiden was waiting for me outside.

“Aiden!” I skidded to a stop and hastily brushed my cheeks to get rid of any tears that lingered. “I told you not to come.”

“I know.” He pulled me into a warm hug and didn’t say anything more for a long time.

That night, after darkness fell and most of the palace was asleep, Aiden snuck down to my room and led me out to the cliff behind the palace overlooking the sea. We didn’t say anything as the pillow burned and the wind scattered the ashes. I held the journal over my heart and listened to the waves, letting them carry me away.

T
alking things over with Aiden
and getting back out into the city renewed my desire to find out more about the Chameleon. Although I felt safe in the palace, I recognized that it could be taken away from me at a moment’s notice as long as the Chameleon walked free. I rarely had enough time to leave the palace on my own for more than an hour or so at a time, and never after dark.

But I wasn’t going to find anything out during the day.

I didn’t really have a plan, but the palace walls suddenly felt suffocating, and I needed to get out. I needed to walk the streets and listen to the stories that weren’t important enough to reach the runners’ ears. I visited their parlor daily now, and I’m sure they were annoyed with my single-mindedness. I’d grown tired of pretending to flirt and so they’d grown tired of me, but still I asked each day if there was any news of the Chameleon. Actually, I didn’t even have to ask anymore, I just stopped by and someone would report the lack of news immediately.

But that wasn’t enough anymore.

The runners’ entrance was technically the least guarded, because no one was actually posted there, but the room was always buzzing with activity no matter the time of day or night, making it difficult for someone to use it for nefarious means.

Fortunately for me, though, I was a familiar mask and could move about the room freely. I’d tested my luck using the door itself during the day, claiming I just needed a quick turn of fresh air, and no one stopped me.

So, one night after dinner, it was easy to drop by for a visit and slip outside with no one so much as batting an eyelash.

“Going somewhere?”

I jumped, then whirled around to see Aiden lounging against the palace wall, watching me, comfortable as you please.

It was too easy, apparently.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered, glaring at him. “How did you even know I would be out here?”

He shrugged, then pushed himself off the wall with an easy grace. “You don’t give the runners enough credit. You think you’re the first one to try sneaking out of here? The boys place bets on who will try it and how far they’ll get. You gave yourself away when you gave it a test run this afternoon.”

I scoffed at him and crossed my arms.

“Just what did you think you were going to do?”

“Nothing dangerous,” I said quickly. “Just listen to the talk.”

His eyes flashed. “Walking the streets at night
alone
is nothing dangerous? Are you crazy?”

“No,” I retorted. “Just desperate for information.”

His expression softened for a brief moment. Then he said, “Come inside, Evie. You’ll find nothing out there tonight.”

“I might have.”

“Or you might have been ambushed, robbed, and thrown into the canal at knifepoint. Or worse.” He stepped close to me, his gaze never leaving my eyes. I could smell the faint scent of mint on his breath from the dessert I’d served only hours before. “Is that really what you wanted?”

I looked away first and sighed. “No.”

“I’m trying to help you, you know,” he said, gesturing for me to enter ahead of him.

“I know.”

He was the only one trying to help.

* * *

“We need to teach you how to fight,” Aiden announced the next night as we sat in my room. He had yet to miss a night of meeting me there after my work in the kitchens was done, even after several weeks.

“What?” I was slightly offended. I knew going out at night on my own had been a bad idea, but I knew enough to defend myself during the day. I wouldn’t be winning any contests or fighting any battles, but I wouldn’t be involved in any street brawls, either.

“Teach you how to fight,” he repeated. “I don’t like the idea of you being on your own and you not being able to fight. Especially after you tried to sneak out of here with no one to protect you.”

“I can defend myself just fine. I survived the first time, didn’t I?” I was getting more offended.

“That was a lucky break,” he insisted. “You might not be so lucky next time.”

I snorted. “You sound like a bad storyteller.”

“Hush. I’m just worried about you, okay?”

I softened a little. “You don’t have any reason to be worried. I’m living in the basement of the palace. I work in the Masking workroom, surrounded by dozens of people. No one’s going to attack me there, and no one’s going to find me here. I’m still amazed that
you
found me.” I paused. “Are you ever going to tell me how you managed to do that, by the way?”

He shrugged. “I told you I would someday. Today is today, not someday.”

“That’s a cheap answer.”

“Cheap or not, there it is.”

I scowled and began planning. “How about this: you actually tell me something I want to know, and you can teach me something you want me to know. A trade of information, so to speak. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve stopped telling me things. Or how when you do tell me something, it only gives me more questions.”

He thought for a moment, looking a bit guilty. “Do I have to answer every question you ask me? Some questions I simply can’t answer.”

“No, I don’t want you to feel like I’m interrogating you,” I tried to explain. “I’m not going to ask you any questions. Instead, you volunteer information. You know exactly what I know or don’t know about you—all my information
comes straight from the source. So you can flesh out each area as little or as much as you prefer.”

“And for every area I flesh out, I can teach you a new technique?”

“You’re going to be my teacher?” I cocked my head in surprise.

“Of course.” Now he sounded insulted. “Did you think I’d try to get you to arm yourself if I didn’t know anything myself? I’ll never ask you to do anything I wouldn’t do myself.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “That sounds fair.” I had to admit that it did. Besides, I was hoping that by showing me what he knew, he might explain exactly
how
he came to know those things. He’d never struck me as a fighter; he was too wiry.

“All right. Lesson one.” He stood from his spot on the bed, but I hurried to interrupt him.

“Wait, right now? Here?” I looked around at the small space. It seemed even smaller when I thought about how much I was going to have to move around in it.

“Why not?” He shrugged. “We’re not doing anything else, and neither of us is expected anywhere for at least an hour. If anything, you’d have to defend yourself in small spaces like this. Unless you’re anticipating joining up with the army after this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously. I’m only using you for your free labor and training.”

“That’s what I thought. Though as good as my labor and training is, you’re too girly to join the army. There aren’t any ribbons and beads there. Not even feathers,” he teased right back, dramatically gesturing with his arms.