Carnival of Souls

CHAPTER 26

AYA KNEW THAT THERE were things she could and maybe should say to Kaleb, but she wasn’t keen on the emotional thing and she wasn’t quite ready to talk about her encounter with the Watchers. It wasn’t as if either of them believed that the other was without secrets; she just happened to know a few of his. Much like knowing that he feared her because of what she was — and that he resented her because of the way the fight with Sol had gone — knowing that he’d contracted to kill the missing daughter he’d just wed could be useful later. She couldn’t see how just then, but knowledge wasn’t something to be given away.

“What’s the plan?” she asked.

“After you forfeit, we go over to the human world until I convince my— Mallory to accept her new role.” Kaleb pressed his lips tightly together, as if sheer will could suppress the tenderness that she could clearly hear in his voice. For a cur who had a significant kill count, he was surprisingly soft-hearted.

She usually wasn’t; in this, Aya favored her maternal heritage. Evelyn had as much of a nurturing instinct as a pit viper in a bad mood. Like her, Aya had often been practical to the point of ruthlessness. Belias was her one exception, but even he had been sacrificed at the altar of realism.

Despite her typical coldness, she felt a brief worry for Mallory. Trying to be as casual as possible, she said, “She wasn’t raised in The City, so you need to deal with the human world and—”

“She was raised by a witch,” Kaleb interrupted.

“A witch?”

He filled her in on everything he knew, and when he was done, Aya said, “I’ll see what I can learn of this witch.”

There is no way that is a coincidence.

WHEN AYA ARRIVED, EVELYN already had a second place setting on the small table in the far corner of her office. Just as Aya had unerringly known where in the building her mother was, Evelyn obviously had known that Aya would be visiting.

“Your daimon has agreed to be bound as your familiar,” she said mildly as Aya walked into the room.

Aya flinched visibly. “I don’t want him to—”

“I can dissect him for parts, or you can accept him as yours. We can transform his shape to hide his identity when you’re there, but in my world, he will be as is. You can communicate with him and store energy in him in both states, of course, but for private use, you will need to say a word so he is transformed. I’ve added a silencing element and the standard inability to disobey to the spell, so you can enjoy him without the inconvenience of listening to him.” Evelyn shook out her napkin and smoothed it over her lap. “It’s still a draining spell, so we need to eat first.”

“Do you know Adam Rothesay?”

“So you’ve found out about Marchosias’ child.” Evelyn gestured to the chair again.

Aya sat.

“My brother, Adam—”

“Your brother,” Aya echoed.

After an almost imperceptible pause, Evelyn said, “Yes. Does that matter?”

Aya weighed the details. She’d learned years ago that the daimons she’d thought were family weren’t hers by blood, but she’d cared for them all the same. In contrast, she had little affection for the witch who had borne her.

“This is the Watcher child? This Adam’s decision to raise her wasn’t because she’s half witch, right?” Aya prompted.

“No, she is fully daimon, although Adam has suppressed that for her whole life. Her mother was a Watcher, and Marchosias is her blood father.”

Even as Aya knew that Evelyn was studying her reactions, she couldn’t fully hide them. Her usual stoicism was undermined by what Evelyn had casually revealed about Belias and about Mallory. Belias was about to be bound to her or die, and she had a cousin of a sort, who had just been married without her consent to a daimon that Aya was bound to aid.

She’s not family by blood, and I don’t know her, and she’s not a witch, so the dangers of breeding are not the same for her. Sure, there were the usual risks, especially for Marchosias’ daughter. His heirs tended to be murdered young, and childbirth had a critically high fatality rate in the ruling caste.

“I need to meet her.” Aya lifted the glass in front of her and took a sip of water to combat her unexpectedly dry mouth.

“The girl is useful to you, daughter,” Evelyn said. “If you can get her protection, it will aid our purposes. Adam did much to make her sympathetic to witches — enough that you can reveal what you are and that no one over there knows. It will make you her sole confidant, the one she turns to when things become worse.”

Not for the first time, Aya was grateful that her mother — for the most part — didn’t plot against her. Mallory was like the lamb offered to warring gods. She’d been taken and raised by witches who hated daimons; she was nothing more than a vessel to bear the next generation of Marchosias’ heirs; and she was the key to a safer future for Kaleb.

And she is useful to me.

That was Evelyn’s intention — at least, that was the most obvious of Evelyn’s intentions. Aya wasn’t so naive as to think that there weren’t other motivations too. Her mother’s machinations were a credit to her species.

“Finish that, and we’ll do the spell,” Evelyn directed.

They ate in silence, and then Aya gave in to the impulse that Evelyn undoubtedly expected.

“I need to see Belias before we do this.” Aya stood and walked to the door. Evelyn didn’t follow, which was as close to agreeing as she would come. The affection Aya had for Belias was a weakness. She knew it as well as her mother did. If he escaped and went to The City, she’d be exposed for cheating in Marchosias’ Competition — worse still, she’d be exposed as a witch.

Everything reasonable, every bit of witch instinct in her, compelled her to let Evelyn destroy Belias, but he was hers. Whether he still loved her or not, he was the only person she’d loved. He was the one person she’d considered confessing to, but he hated witches. She’d hoped to avoid his ever knowing, but they were too far past that now. Her options had shifted when they’d been matched to fight or maybe when they’d been matched to wed. All that Aya knew now was that they were once more down to a set of options that included one of their deaths.

“I need his permission,” Aya said.

Evelyn didn’t look at her. Instead, she carefully folded her napkin as she said, “I’ll be over momentarily. He’ll be bound to you, or he’ll be used for harvest.”