TWENTY-FIVE
Henrick sat at the long table in the common room of his hideout, sharing succulent lobster with his son and daughter, his gaze on the Servant of Ava, who was chained in a cell within spitting distance.
“Want some?” Henrick asked, holding a piece of butter-soaked claw meat toward Bull, but as always, the servant kept his mouth shut, content to survive on one small bowl of bland porridge per day.
“You know,” Henrick joked, “I think there’s something he’s not telling me.”
Zephora giggled and glanced over her shoulder. “You should let me have a crack at him.”
“Now, now, dear Madam, we need him alive and well enough to attend an important meeting.”
“I promise I’ll keep him alive. Just let me play with him.”
Henrick smiled and patted her hand. “All in good time. We need to figure out what triggers the mark. Once we have that, if he refuses to speak, we’ll let you play.”
Zephora grinned at Bull then set her sights on the witch in the cage beside his. “I could play with her, maybe motivate the librarian to work faster.”
“He claims he’s searching eighteen hours a day. Considering the vault holds endless secrets, there’s no reason to doubt him. We don’t want to make him so desperate he gets rash.”
“Fine,” Zephora pouted, returning to her meal.
The door to the garden shed opened, and footsteps echoed down the stairwell, along with panicked whispers.
Henrick and his kids looked over as half a dozen council members entered the hideout and came to a nervous halt.
“She’s here,” one of them announced. “The Crusaders brought their angel.”
Henrick curled his lip as Zephora hissed, but they both continued eating as the former spoke. “If I ever get my hands on that witch, I’ll peel off her skin and bathe in her blood. Have you seen her?”
“Yes,” a council member answered. “They marched her straight to the capitol for all of Maganthia to see. She’s already a celebrity. And they’ve procured access to the Buried Library.”
Henrick snarled and slammed a spiny shell on the table. “You gave her the access you deny us?”
The assembly took a stumbling step back as their spokesman replied. “Not the vault. Just that which lies above it, but the vault is their goal. We… we had to compromise. If we didn’t give her something, she would have ruined our reputation by sunrise.”
“I don’t give a toad’s tit about your reputation.”
“But you must,” a councilwoman insisted, proving braver than her male counterparts. “If we lose the city’s favor, we risk losing access to its secrets. The angel could ruin us, so we must play her game, and we must make sure we win. To prove she’s Willa’s angel and gain access to the vault, she volunteered to run a level five gauntlet.”
Henrick’s eyes widened then narrowed. “Then why aren’t you watching her run it?”
“She requested time to train.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yet you expect her to fail.”
“Of course she’ll fail.”
“You underestimate her.”
“Perhaps, but at the very least, we’ve managed to stall her. She expects to train for at least a month. In the meantime, our priest is now living in the vault, coming up for air only when absolutely necessary. If the answers you seek are there, he’ll find them.”
Henrick smiled and waved at the priest’s mistress. “He better.”
“We’re working on another angle, as well,” a councilman added. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Crusaders’ prophesy and the guardians it entails.”
“Sure. I assume the dog is with her.”
“He is, along with two backups who act like strays begging for scraps. But we believe Maganthia is home to a fourth candidate. If we offer to help him win a place by her side, he may be able to derail her. Then it won’t matter if she survives the gauntlet.”
“You think you can replace her mate?”
“Not directly, but the angel is appealing to our citizens, ensuring she has their support. They’re the hammer she holds over our heads. But what happens when those citizens realize their great city has a hero of its own? Will the angel risk their wrath, and thereby her mission, by rejecting him? If she does, perhaps she’s not so angelic after all.”
Henrick thoughtfully hummed. “Seems like a waste of time to me. You put way too much stock in your city.”
“It is our devotion to this city that has brought us this far. Do you not recall why we made a deal with the devil?”
“Yeah, yeah, to protect your precious, underwater lair. I get it. Play to your audience all you want, by whatever means you want.” He took his final bite. Then he licked his fingers clean and raised his drink. “Either way, heaven and hell are colliding in your utopia.”