Cyrene was sequestered with Dean on a gondola in the late afternoon the next day. He had offered to take her to see Basille. He hadn’t heard whether or not Basille was back on the island, but most people would return for the holiday season, and it was only ten days away.

Ceis’f was trailing them under Avoca’s orders even though Cyrene had assured them it wasn’t necessary. She had seen Dean fight and knew he was quite capable.

Avoca had promised to look into ways to track people with her Leif powers, and Ahlvie had readily agreed to help her locate the supplies she would need to do so. Ceis’f had protested, but Ahlvie and Avoca had been out the door and on their way to the Market Sector before he could get a word in.

“How exactly do you know Basille Selby?” Cyrene asked.

“He used to work in the palace,” Dean told her.

“Used to?”

Dean frowned and looked away from her. “He used to sit on the Privy Council.”

Cyrene started forward, shaking the boat and receiving a glare from the gondolier pushing them through the Upper Sector. “Excuse me? Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?”

“It was a long time ago, but I knew him as a child. He always shared wild stories about other lands, and he could keep a crowd captive for hours. I’d say he doted on me. But, after what happened, I’m not so sure.”

“The Basille Selby I met in the Laelish Market in Byern did not seem the type to ever be on a Privy Council. He certainly seemed to have stories of adventure, but he was not a nobleman. What happened?”

“He was caught in bed with my sister,” Dean said softly.

Cyrene’s eyebrows rose, and she gasped. “Which sister?”

“Brigette. But don’t mention it to him or her. No one really speaks about it at court anymore after he left the Council.”

“The royal heir to Eleysia was caught in bed with a man on the Privy Council.”

“A married man on the Privy Council, who was ten years older than her.”

Cyrene put her hand to her chest and held on to her seat. “Basille is married?”

“He was, but his wife came down with a fever shortly after that and never recovered. Some blamed him for her death. They claimed that her body couldn’t handle the knowledge of his affair. Others claimed that he poisoned her. No one really knows what happened.”

Cyrene was reeling. How could all of this be true about a simple peddler? But, of course, he wasn’t a simple peddler. Simple peddlers wouldn’t have adventure stories or magical books. They wouldn’t know the names of Master Domas or realize she had magic. And he had known.

“So, how did he become a peddler then?” Cyrene asked, processing all of this information.

Dean shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. He just disappeared and returned as someone else. I’m sure that story is one he guards closely.”

They lapsed into silence as the boat progressed down the narrow waterway. They rounded a bend into a lucrative part of the Upper Sector. Towering buildings were immaculate. It looked about as opposite as was possible from the area of the First Sector where they had been last night.

“Here we are,” Dean said, signaling for the boat to come to a stop.

Cyrene admired the house before her. It was a gorgeous building set to mirror the sandstone exterior of the palace. Though it was packed into the street and wedged in between two other houses, it clearly belonged to someone with significant wealth. Much of the other buildings they had passed seemed to have split residences by stories, but this was in a neighborhood where each house was unique. Each had its own dock, and a gorgeous stone bridge arched across the water.

The gondolier docked them at the house, and Dean helped Cyrene off the boat.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“Basille’s home.”

“He owns a mansion?”

“Unless he sold it, this home in Upper belongs to him. But I doubt he did. It’s a family home.”

Dean offered Cyrene his arm, and they walked forward. He rapped on the front door. A man opened it a minute later, and Cyrene balked at the person in front of her. This was the man she had seen Basille with in Byern.

“Whaddya want?” he asked.

“Good evening. We’re here to see Master Basille Selby. Is he in for the evening?” Dean said formally.

“He’s busy. Don’ like the looks uh ya.”

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Dean Ellison, and we’re here to see Master Basille Selby,” Dean said. He took a step toward the man. “Please ring him for us.”

The man stuttered before dropping into a quick bow. “Course, Majesty.”

Dean and Cyrene went into the enormous house, and Cyrene gasped at its grandeur. Intricate stonework created a mesmerizing pattern on the floor. The walls were a deep burgundy color, and the furniture was antique Eleysian craftsmanship. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling in the entryway.

They walked into a sitting room that was carpeted with deep red Aurumian rugs that must have cost a fortune. Biencan gold platters were arranged on a table beside Kelltic sculptures worked out of the precious metals from the Barren Mountains. Exotic portraits and tapestries covered the walls from Carharan work to novelties all the way from the country of Mastira. It was overdone in its lavishness but also incredible to see all the nations of Emporia together in one place.

“The Prince of the realm,” Basille said, entering the sitting room. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello, Master Selby,” Dean said.

Basille started when he saw Cyrene. “And with an Affiliate.”

“Hello, Basille. Good to see you again,” Cyrene said.

Basille Selby looked much the same as Cyrene remembered him. He was tall with thick dark hair slicked back. He wore traditional Eleysian garb though, switching out his traveling garments for silks. He must have recently bathed because he perfumed the room with a cloying scent. He was quite handsome, but she couldn’t imagine Princess Brigette falling into bed with him. She couldn’t picture him married either, not even in his house with all his grandiose ways.

“I’m not sure I can say the same. Cyrene, is it?” he asked, as if he didn’t remember.

But she could see his sharp eyes and knew he remembered all.

“You remember my name, Master Selby. You remember everything about our encounter,” Cyrene said.

“Is that so?” he asked. He took a seat in an armchair opposite Cyrene. “I meet a good number of people while on my travels. Faces start to blur.”

Cyrene slowly retrieved the Book of the Doma from her bag and held it up for him to look at once more. It had landed in her lap, because of the man before her. “Do you remember this?”

He smiled crookedly. “So, you made it.”

“Of course I did. No thanks to you.”

His eyes drifted to Dean and back. “And you manifested?” he asked, cautiously eyeing the book.

“You know I did. Why didn’t you just tell me what it meant?”

“Can’t talk about those things in Byern unless I want to lose my head.”

“Well, can we talk about them now?” she asked.

The man is so frustrating.

“What do you know, Basille?” Dean asked. He had the calm, calculated look of a man who was used to getting what he wanted, coupled with the skill of a man not to be reckoned with.

“You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you, boy,” Basille deflected.

“I’m not a boy anymore.”

“That, I can tell. Nineteen at the Eos holiday in ten days’ time, if I remember correctly. Did you come to bring my invitation?”

Dean leveled him with a stern gaze. “If you didn’t want to risk your neck in Byern, I doubt you would want to risk it here.”

“It’s been ten years since I was last on the palace grounds,” Basille said with a well-oiled smile. “I’m sure my presence would go completely unnoticed.”

Cyrene rolled her eyes. If everything Dean had said was true, then he would surely be noticed.

“Where have you been then?” Dean asked.

“Around the world and back again”—Basille flicked the sides of his mustache and then gestured around the room—“as you can see from all my exploits. No world is barred to the man who knows how to access it.”

“All but the palace grounds, it seems,” Cyrene said casually. “That brings me to the matter at hand. I’m here in Eleysia on your word. I am looking for Matilde and Vera, just as you said I should. How do I find them? And don’t play any more tricks. I have come a long way to get this information, and I will not haggle with a swindling peddler for it. Just spit it out.”

Basille’s smile took over his whole face. “My, have you grown since the first time I met you, little Affiliate. Once terrified of your own shadow and throwing your weight around with a title that had barely sat on your shoulders. A title that they give to seventeen-year-old girls with such high opinions of themselves.”

Dean took a step forward in anger. “Just answer her.”

“Or what?” Basille asked. “Stand down, soldier,” he said the term derisively. “I will speak to the Affiliate…for a price.”

“What price?” she demanded.

“What could you possibly want?” Dean asked.

“I’m a high-standing merchant. Everything can be bought for a price.”

Cyrene was certain that Basille did not mean money in this instance.

“Well?” Cyrene said.

“An invitation to your Eos ball is the price.”

Cyrene and Dean exchanged a glance. It was an easy enough thing to deliver. The ball was widely open to all nobility. Anyone with a piece of the beautiful Eleysian stationery stamped with the blue royal seal could attend. But why he wanted it could prove more problematic for them.

“You know, if you are discovered on the grounds, you will be in a world of trouble,” Dean cautioned.

“That is my battle to fight. You will not be responsible for what happens once the invitation is in my hand,” Basille said with a crooked smile.

Dean shrugged his shoulder at Cyrene. “I’ll do it. I can get one.”

Cyrene looked at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said, then turned to Basille. “Now, talk to her.”

“I reckon I don’t know much more about Doma history than you do. Except that I know it all to be true and not some idiotic story that Byern royalty tells the public. Domas lived and ruled with magic in Byern…and they do no longer.”

Cyrene nodded. She knew as much. The Dremylons had just been lying to everyone about what had actually happened. The knowledge that Doma had magic would change the entire history of their country.

“How did they lose magic?” Cyrene asked.

“I hear there was a great war, and they lost. But I don’t know the specifics. I wasn’t there.”

“But Matilde and Vera were,” Cyrene said quickly. “They were Doma. That’s how you knew they could help me.”

Basille nodded slowly. “I knew they were Doma in hiding, but…to think they would be alive back during the War of the Light…” He considered this for a moment and then shook his head. “They would be over two thousand years old. That can’t be possible.”

“Why do you think they were alive back then?” Dean asked Cyrene.

“I don’t know. Just a hunch,” she lied.

Telling anyone she had been having visions of the ancient Domina Serafina wasn’t high on her priority list.

“So, where are they? How do I speak with them?” she asked.

“They’re the kind of people who can’t really be…found.”

Cyrene stood and glared at him in anger. “You sent me here to find them!”

“They’re the type who…find you.”

“You’re unbelievable! How could you make it seem so urgent to get me out of the country and all the way here to Eleysia to speak with them?”

“Because it was,” Basille said calmly. “Your magic is a death sentence in Byern. If anyone finds out about it, you will be slaughtered…as they have been doing for millennia.”

“What?” Cyrene stilled and felt herself shaking.

“Magic is not welcome in Byern. You are not welcome there. Viktor Dremylon murdered all magical Doma two thousand years ago, and anyone with magic since then has been hunted down and killed. It’s cursed.”

“But…I lived there my whole life, and nothing strange hap—” She couldn’t even finish that sentence. “The deaths. The Braj. All of that was because of my magic. They were trying to get rid of me, as they had done in the past. That makes sense.”

“What exactly makes sense?” Dean asked.

“A series of deaths happened in Byern that resulted in a Braj attacking me. I killed it with my powers, but it killed a number of other people who had some kind of relation to me. Do you think they were Doma?”

Basille listened to the news, as if this were an everyday discussion. “Doubtful. It’s more likely that you awakened magic in ancient bloodlines, and the Braj killed them as it tried to get to the source. I’ve heard that a particularly powerful magical user can make strange things occur.”

Cyrene put her hand on the table to try to process everything that he had said.

“What if someone in Byern knew I had magic?” she asked softly.

“Then, I would advise you to never return to your homeland,” Basille reasoned.

She shook her head. That couldn’t be it. Kael could have killed her if he had wanted her dead. She had been alone with him any number of times, and on the docks, he’d had her in his complete control, and he hadn’t done anything. Not to mention, Edric…if he had magic or had known that she had magic, he hadn’t hurt her. In fact, he had fallen for her. She couldn’t think that he would do anything to harm her after sending so many guards to collect her. It would have been easier to send someone just to kill her.

“I’ll have to think about all this,” she said finally. “But are you sure there is nothing else that can be done to get the attention of Matilde and Vera? Are they even still here?”

“I’m sure they’re still here. This is their home. They grew up in the Swamp Sector and never could seem to get Eleysia out of their blood.”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “The Swamp Sector?”

“What is it?”

“It used to be private homes of the wealthy,” Dean said. “The area is technically below sea level, and before I was born, a massive hurricane and an earthquake crashed through the island, hitting the Swamp Sector the hardest. Sinkholes pocketed the district and tore the land apart. The nobility left, and the homes were abandoned to natural vegetation and whoever was desperate enough to live in the flooded conditions.”

“It’s not all that bad anymore,” Basille chimed in.

Dean gave him a questioning look.

“It has a certain charm for the underbelly of the population who don’t want to compete with First, Market, Lower and Fourth rivalries.”

“And here I was, beginning to think Eleysia was just paradise year-round,” Cyrene said.

“It is,” Dean assured her.

“In the palace,” Basille modified. “Otherwise, you’re competing with the various gangs who control the sectors, and you don’t want to end up on the wrong side of that war.”

“Gangs?” Cyrene said in surprise.

“Do you now see why I followed you?” Dean asked, his voice pleading.

“Ah, young love,” Basille said, his eyes moving between them. “Well, it was a pleasure doing business with you. I’ll expect the invitation to show up promptly.”

“You didn’t even give me the information I wanted,” Cyrene protested. Her cheeks were heated from his comment, but she tried to control her voice.

“You never specified the exact information you wanted, just that you wanted information. I told you how to find Matilde and Vera. You have to wait for them to find you, and find you, they will. The rest of the information I gave out for free,” he said, as if he had done her a service. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have other business to attend to.”

Cyrene swore under her breath. She should have known better than to expect more from Basille. The last time she had visited him, he had given her practically nothing and had his man literally throw her out of his tent. At least this time, she was walking out with dignity.

She stopped at the entrance to the sitting room. “What about the book?” she asked. “Why did you give it to my sister?”

Basille smiled. “If I had known its importance, I would have charged a lot more for it.”

Cyrene sighed. “That isn’t an answer.”

“I don’t have magic, Affiliate. Perhaps ask your sister why she chose it. It can’t be a coincidence that it passed into your hands.”