Eve of Destruction (28 page)

“You think I didn’t want to?” Shaedra asked.

The bodyguard grunted derisively. “We’re to believe instead that you respected the Enclave’s wishes? Your kin aren’t exactly known for unswerving obedience.”

“Unlike, say, the loyal hounds of the Crimson Eclipse?” she countered. “Did you finally get sick of playing fetch for them, or did you actually learn to think for yourself?”

A thin, humorless smile drew across Aram’s lips, and Zach couldn’t help but shiver. He had never seen the ex-Eclipsean angry before, and one look at the man’s deadpan face told him he didn’t want to. He had the distinct impression he was staring at a coiled snake, or perhaps the eye of a gathering storm.

“So it was the Enclave that sent you?” Danev asked, his tone casual and obviously meant to diffuse the tension. Despite wearing only a sleeping robe he somehow still managed to look poised. “I’d wondered about that.”

Shaedra kept her eyes locked on Aram for a long moment before shifting to the older man. “I don’t work for the Enclave. I work for Glenn Maltus.”

Eve drew in a sharp breath and closed her eyes. Zach knew exactly how she felt. How many other lies had their old neighbor spun over the years? Could they trust anything about him at all at this point?

“He wanted you to keep an eye on Evelyn, then?” Danev continued, gesturing to one of the nearby empty chairs.

Shaedra nodded and dropped into the seat. “Yes.”

“I suppose the obvious question is why,” Danev said, sitting down again himself. Aram, notably, remained standing. “What is Glenn’s reasoning? And why didn’t he have you come forward earlier?”

Shaedra’s eyes flicked to Eve. “His reasoning is simple. He cares about you.”

“Not enough to tell me the truth, apparently,” Eve replied bitterly.

The Vakari shrugged. “Humans lie more to the people they care about than anyone else. He wanted to try and protect you. He figured you weren’t ready for what he was about to tell you.”

“You mean that he worked for the Enclave?” Eve asked sharply. “Or was it that my mom and Chaval were lovers? Or maybe that she started this entire Dusty revolution in the first place? Which one was it?”

“None of those.”

Eve frowned. “Then what? What didn’t he want to tell me?”

Shaedra held up the journal. “What your mother wrote in here.”

Everyone in the room stared at her expectantly, and eventually the Vakari snorted and shook her head.

“It’s funny, in a way,” she went on, dropping the book in her lap. “Even Chaval had no idea why the Enclave was so interested in you. He knew they’d assigned Maltus to keep an eye on your mother, but it wasn’t until recently that he realized they were even more concerned about you.”

“What are you talking about?” Eve asked breathlessly. “They’ve never bothered me before, not even the recruiters at the university.”

“I didn’t say they wanted to recruit you,” Shaedra corrected. “I said they were concerned about you—so concerned, in fact, that if not for Maltus, they probably would have sent me or another Vakari to kill you.”

Zach shook his head. “What? Why?”

“The Prophetess had a vision of a civil war,” Shaedra explained. “A vision where the Dusties and the magi fought for control over Arkadia, and in the process, the Fane itself was destroyed.”

Zach tried to swallow but found his mouth had gone dry. He turned to Eve, and her entire body was trembling.

“How?” she asked. 

“Because,” Shaedra said, “you’re going to kill it.”

***

Eve’s stomach sank. The words hung there in the silence, and it was all she could do to keep breathing.

“You’re saying she’s the Avenshal,” Aram whispered after a few seconds. “You’re saying the daughter of Edeh’s Prophetess is the Chosen of Abalor.”

“
I’m
not saying that,” Shaedra corrected. “Tara DeShane said that. Those in the Enclave that believe she really was touched by the Goddess naturally agree with her.”

“They were always a minority,” Danev said, his voice distant. “Even back at Valmeri after all she had accomplished, they still refused to believe.”

“It’s probably the only reason you’re still alive,” Shaedra said, her eyes still locked on Eve. “Some of the magisters wanted you dead before you were even born.”

“That’s not…” Eve choked, her voice dying before the words could form. She balled her hands into fists and clenched her jaw. “That’s not possible.”

The Vakari shrugged. “I don’t know; I’m just telling you what the magisters think. They could all be full of drek for all I know, and frankly I don’t particularly care.”

“You don’t care about the Avenshal?” Aram asked, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t care about the death of the Fane?”

“I feel it dying all around me every second I stand in this screlling city,” Shaedra told him. “The way I figure it, you don’t need some evil, god-cursed mage to destroy the Fane. You people will do it on your own eventually anyway.”

“You can’t survive without it either.”

She laughed. “I already died once, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“You’re just playing some sick and twisted game,” Zach hissed.

Shaedra just cocked an eyebrow at him. “I got bored of lying centuries ago. Pull yourself together.”

For a moment Eve thought he might pounce at her, but instead he just gripped the armrests and quietly seethed.

“So Glenn knew about this prophecy,” Danev said softly, “and he sent you to protect Eve against the Enclave and Chaval?”

“Yes, at least until he made a final decision.”

A cold tingle worked its way down Eve’s spine. “A decision about what?” she asked.

Shaedra didn’t even blink. “About whether or not to have me kill you.”

Eve collapsed back into her chair. Glenn Maltus, one of the most helpful men she had ever known…and he had seriously considered killing her? No, despite all the things they had learned about him, despite his connections to the Enclave, she couldn’t believe he would actually—

And then she glanced back towards her room, remembering the spellbook tucked away in her bag, and suddenly she understood.

“He wanted to test me,” she breathed. “All those spells, they’re way too advanced for someone like me. There’s no way I could figure them all out on my own, unless…”

“’The child who walks in darkness shall draw from my Fane as easily as water from a cup,’” Danev quoted the Edehan scripture softly. “’Life shall wither at her touch, and devastation shall follow in her wake. So shall you know the face of the Avenshal. So shall we all bear witness to the end of my Fane.’”

“It was the only way he could think of to give you a subtle push,” Shaedra explained. “Personally, I thought it was a stupid idea. If you really are this big, bad scion of destruction, then you aren’t going to need a book to set you off. You’ll do it on your own sooner or later.”

Eve clenched her eyes shut and buried her face in her hands. She should have been crying. She should have been screaming. But for some reason she couldn’t do either. She just sat there quivering, unable to think and barely able to breathe.

“For what it’s worth, he never intended to go through with it,” Shaedra said, her tone softening just slightly. “He might have convinced himself he would, but I knew better. He loves you. I’m pretty sure you could burn an entire city to the ground and that wouldn’t change.”

“He lied,” Eve rasped. “He never told me…she never told me…”

Zach leapt over from his chair and wrapped his arms around her. She let him hold on for only a moment before pushing him away and standing up. The air was cool on her face, and she suddenly noticed her cheeks were wet. Apparently the tears had found a way through after all.

“So what does he want me to do now?” she asked between clenched teeth. “Why did he send you here?”

“He wants you to read this,” Shaedra said, flipping the book across the room.

Eve caught it awkwardly. The leather binding felt odd against her skin; she had seen this and similar books a thousand times in her mother’s office, but she had never been allowed to touch any of them. It felt as foreign as a tome taken from the shelf of a strange library.

“But Chaval has already read it,” Eve replied. “How useful could it be?”

The tall woman shrugged. “I don’t know. Maltus has convinced himself that it might be the only chance of averting a civil war. He knows that if Chaval wanted it so badly, then it must have something vital inside it.”

“Except that Chaval wasn’t carrying it, was he?” Aram asked. “You never said you had to physically take it from him.”

“He wasn’t even in the building,” Shaedra confirmed gravely. “Neither was that Talami harlot of his.”

Danev wrapped his knuckles against the wooden armrest of his chair. “That makes no sense. If Simon was willing to kill Tara to get that thing, then why would he leave it completely unprotected?”

Shaedra flicked a hand and scoffed. “Ego. It’s destroyed plenty of powerful men in the past.”

“Or it wasn’t as valuable as he hoped,” Zach suggested.

“Or he wanted you to find it,” Aram added.

Danev sighed tiredly. “That makes even less sense. What would be the point in taking it only to allow it to be recaptured again a week later? I’m inclined to agree with Zach here. Perhaps Simon misjudged how valuable it was the first time.”

“There are pages missing,” Eve whispered as she carefully flipped through the journal. “A few dozen, torn out by hand.”

“So maybe he already took the parts he wanted and didn’t care about the rest,” Zach said. “And then Shaedra just got lucky and found a worthless book sitting on his dresser.”

“It’s also possible the pages were missing before he got it,” Danev pointed out.

Eve shook her head. “Mom wouldn’t do that. She would never tear apart her journals that way. She always told me they were important I just....” She nearly lost it, but she swallowed heavily and ground her teeth together. “I just never knew why. And she never told me.”

“Well, speculation aside, there’s only one way to find out,” Danev said.

Eve nodded distantly. From the moment she and Zach realized the journal was missing back in Lushden, she had wanted to get her hands on this thing. She had wanted desperately to know what it was the Dusties had needed so badly—what it was they had been willing to kill for.

But now, knowing what she did about her mother’s past…she wasn’t sure she even wanted to crack it open. And the thought of actually reading it made her stomach churn.

“Should we leave the city, then?” Zach asked after a moment. “This is what we were here for, isn’t it?”

“I’d like to check with a few of my business contacts in the city tomorrow, but after that…” Danev said with a shrug. “It would probably be for the best. We’ll just have to hope it has the answers we’re looking for.”

Eve felt Zach’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look up. Instead she traced her fingers along the edge of the book and tried to decide if this was just some feverish nightmare.

“It’s not me,” she whispered. “I’m not going to destroy anything. She was wrong.”

“Just because the Enclave believes something doesn’t make it true,” Danev soothed. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t worry.”

Except it wasn’t just the Enclave who believed it—it was her mother. And Danev himself had said several times that he believed Tara DeShane was the Prophetess. So didn’t that mean it was true somehow? Didn’t that mean it had to be?