Chapter 43

Two days passed before we received any word from Vanya, and that time was an eternity when the world was soaking in oil, one rogue spark away from going up in flame and smoke.

Marcus had quit. He'd taped his letter of resignation to the office door at the station; obviously he had decided before he left the Row a final time after the train explosion.

The news from the papers were no longer passed from the Districts, and the whispers of our enemies went silent. Meanwhile, Nico was gearing up for the final push in our war against the Firenzes. He'd spread his makeshift militia across the riverwalk, arming the businesses there with men and guns to defend the Row should our plans to retrieve the book and the railcars fail.

A seamstress arrived to measure us for the event, though it felt more like being fitted for armor. She took my measurements and sketched out a design that would hide my weapons, layering just enough fabric to conceal a pistol or two if I desired.

Sera would've approved of the design and intricate lace detail of the neckline, though she'd probably think it to be too modest for my personality. She was all I could think about as the tailor tacked and pinned her fabrics against my form. I could hear her now, saying everyone would be too distracted by the movement of the dress to give my face a second glance—and she'd be right.

The Attanos' seamstress was kind, but she wasn't as reassuring. Not like my friend had been when I needed it most, and it watered the guilty seed I'd kept buried inside my heart.

"Your mask," the tailor's voice broke through my thoughts, "will you be needing me to design you one as well?"

"No, that won't be necessary." Esme had that covered. She had been eager to feel useful and started crafting us custom, bulletproof masks that molded to each of our faces.

The tailor finished up my measurements just as Nico entered our bedroom, more tense than usual. The air around him was thick with cigarillo smoke. "You already have my measurements, correct Isla?"

The tailor listed off a few numbers from memory, and Nico nodded in affirmation. His gaze fell to a stack of papers in his hand.

"Still no news today?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I need to visit Sabina this morning and organize the drop-off for the dealer. I'm choosing to remain optimistic about our plans. Has your brother finished the sketches of the Firenzes' property?"

I jutted my chin towards the small desk pushed in the corner of the room next to the window. On top was a map Aramis had hand drawn at my husband's request—though I, of course, did not mention that to my brother.

"He marked the areas that were restricted to the public in red. There's a lab on the east side of the property. You need to have your darkthieves scout the area to see how many guards they have patrolling that repository. I'd think they'd keep their research near their experiments."

He scanned the map, sucking the inside of his cheek in thought. "It's a good place to start as any. I'll point them there. May I?" He folded the map and gestured to the inner pocket of his coat, as if to take it.

"Go ahead, I've already memorized it." He tucked away the map as I ran over the plan I'd rehearsed in my head. "The ball, I assume, will be held in the main house and the back courtyard. They can't hold the entire town inside, so they'll be outdoors as well, despite the cold. Aramis also said the courtesans were contacted to work the party, so we'll have the advantage of them distracting some of the very important guests."

"Any way we can narrow down who those might be?" he asked.

I nodded, stepping off the stool the tailor had been using. She saw herself out as we plotted. "The eagle pins should give them away. All the Niners wear them like patriots."

"I'm sure they'll be spreading all their Niner ideology to whoever will listen," he murmured. "We get them away, and then what? How will we get to the lab without arousing suspicion?"

I licked my lips, not entirely sure. "I had a small idea, but you won't like it."

"That seems to be the theme of the night," he sighed. "Go on with it."

I smiled. "We'll have to split up. It will be impossible for us to both monitor the car situation and look for the book. While you stay in the main room, Aramis will pose as one of the watchmen and escort me to the warehouse. We'll remain inconspicuous, but if by some chance we get caught, they'll be less likely to question us if he's bringing a potential investor to the lab."

It was a wonder my husband's teeth didn't shatter from how hard he clenched his jaw.

"And what then?" he clipped.

My lips twitched, though there was nothing funny about the matter. "Luther will spike the traditional celebratory toast that starts the night with some of Nonna's Vex Veritas. With the untamed egos that will be at the party, the place will be a mess in no time."

Nico's jaw loosened enough that it actually dropped. "Are you insinuating we make everyone sick with their own lies?"

I shrugged, pretending it wasn't my favorite part of the plan. "I'm quite tired of liars, and I think it's time the Firenzes and their friends be called out for the tales they spin."

He laughed. It was the first time I'd heard the sound in days. "Honestly, Milla, the only problem I have with that part of the plan is that I didn't think of it first. About us splitting up though—"

"Here we go," I sighed.

"It's not smart. Why can't we go as a random couple from the Lowlands attending the ball on behalf of our Overseer?"

"Because the Overseer of the Lowlands will most likely be attending," I told him. "Aramis informed me the guest list is stacked—"

"Has he seen it?"

"Apparently, Narcissa has heard lots of rumors from her staff."

He crossed his arms, squinting at me.

I shrugged and strode to the window. "You need to worry about getting the railcars through the city. We need people we can trust. People that can follow directions. It's dangerous, moving cars on the tracks at night. They're utterly soundless, and if you aren't paying attention, you can get run over or impaled by the coupler."

A memory surfaced of the last time a man had been at the wrong place at the wrong time while working on the tracks. He didn't even hear the car being moved behind him, nor did he know what hit him when a multi-ton car rammed into his back—until it was too late. I'd never wash that sight of when we found him out of my head as long as I lived.

"We'll time each car. I've already set up communications between the streets and the party."

Communications? "You mean, you'll have runners going between the party and the cars, keeping you updated?"

"Indeed."

I groaned, realizing exactly who he had in mind. "You are not using the Canary Boys!"

He returned one of my nonchalant shrugs. "They're the only ones who've been in the Firenzes' warehouses and the main house. They know the layouts, and they can sneak around easily. I can't deny their help now, Milla."

"They're kids—"

"The youngest I've employed is eighteen. They aren't kids, and if we want to make sure what is happening now doesn't happen again, we need to include the next generation." He crossed the room and placed his hands on my shoulders. "We can plan everything out, princess, but you know most of this is going to require thinking on our feet."

"Will you be recruiting Regulus as well?" I asked. His healing progress had been slow, but we still had a few more days until the gala if he wished to join us.

"I asked, but he respectfully declined. I have another Mirth remnant waiting on standby. One I trust."

My lips stretched an inch. I could imagine the colorful response Regulus probably gave Nico when asked if he wanted to help again. I couldn't say I blamed him. "Did he say anything about the Society that could help us?"

"They apparently left him alone once they realized he was useless to them. His remnant is only dangerous to those he can deceive. They knew who he was, so he couldn't trick them anymore. They tried to get more information out of him about you, but he didn't know anything to give into their methods of torture."

I scoffed. "So they used him instead." My gaze fell to the inner courtyard formed from the wings of the estate. Nico's bedroom overlooked the convergence of the sprawling arms of the house, where four brick walls enclosed a garden in which Nonna kept her herbs and a few vegetables that could withstand the freezing winter.

"Is that..." My attention caught on something lying behind one of the raised garden beds. "Seven hells, is that Nonna?"

Nico's grip tightened around my shoulders when he noticed it as well. A red slipper jutted out from behind one of the wooden borders, as if someone were lying down beside it.

"Fuck," he whispered and lunged toward the bedroom door. I followed him out, maintaining his hurried pace. "Find Fran! She's most likely in the study."

I took the steps two at a time, left in his dust as he ran to the garden. The study he spoke of was near the parlor on the first floor, and as Nico suspected, the aunts were exactly where he said they would be. Huddled over their coffee and discussing the latest financial pitfalls the destruction of the train had created, they startled as I burst into the room without knocking.

"Something's wrong with Nonna!" I blurted.

Fran was the first to react. "What happened? Where is she?"

The shock was already wearing off, making room for the icy claws of panic. "I don't know, we saw her in the courtyard from the window upstairs—she must have collapsed. Nico went to help her and told me to inform you."

The eldest aunt took a deep breath as if to compose herself. "Ianthe, call for the haelens. Lucinda, gather the family just in case. Milla, come with me."

"In case of what?" I asked her.

She didn't reply, only placed a hand on the small of my back to usher us both toward the inner courtyard. "Fran," I spoke again, though my voice slightly trembled this time. "In case of what?"

"In case this doesn't end well, Milla."

It hadn't hit me until she said those words that a bad ending was an option. Normally, the people in my circle usually died from bullets or backstabs. Never had someone I loved died in their garden. Old age had never been a threat when no one lived long enough to face it.

"I'm in here!" Nico called out from a room off the hall as we neared the end of the wing. He must have heard the slap of our flats echoing through the quiet house as we approached. We found them in a guest room, Nonna resting on the bed as Nico tucked the covers around her still body.

"Her pulse is thready," he said as he worked. "I don't know how long she's been out there, but she's freezing. We need Adler—"

"Lucinda is gathering everyone," Fran replied while nearing the bed. She placed a hand on Nonna's forehead and instantly withdrew, cursing to herself. I took one step toward the empty hearth before Nico started the gas and tossed in a few dry logs.

"Can I help?" I asked him, despising how useless I felt in the moment.

His jaw worked and his eyebrows slammed down over hard eyes. But there was nothing he could order—nothing he could fix. "I... I don't know."

The room quickly heated with the help of the fire in the hearth. Adler and the rest of the cousins arrived moments later, pulled from their beds by the state of their dress. The bender with control over heat stood at the end of the bed, staring down at his grandmother, who was drained of color, who stood with her foot through the doorway of death.

"I shouldn't do this without the guidance of the haelens," Adler said. "If I raise her temperature too quickly or too much, it could do more harm than good."

"We don't know when the haelens will get here," Fran said. "Her breaths are spacing further apart; her pulse is slowing... Adler, I think we should risk it if it means getting her warm again. She can't last much longer like this—"

"Alright." He sighed, and his shoulders fell an inch, as if carrying the tangible weight of his Nonna's life. "Alright, I'll try."

"That's all we ask, darling," Fran whispered.

The heat bender slipped hands beneath the covers to touch Nonna's skin. The fire flickered in the hearth as a cold draft snuck between us. I hadn't much experience around Adler's remnant, though I could deduce he was taking the warmth from the hearth and giving it back to Nonna, raising her body temperature as slowly as he could.

In similar timing, the toning of her skin warmed. Just seeing the pink in her cheeks loosened a worry knotted in my chest. Fran kept pressing Nonna's skin with the back of her hand, nodding once she was satisfied with her temperature.

"That should help until the haelen's arrive." Fran pulled a low stool to the bedside and sat next to the seemingly asleep woman. "I wonder what happened to have made her collapsed. Why was she outside in the first place?"

"I think she slipped on some ice while looking over her garden," Nico said. "The snow from yesterday most likely melted in the afternoon and refroze last night. Milla saw her from the upstairs window, but we do not know how long she was lying there before she was found."

"This couldn't have happened at a worse time," Solomon muttered to himself as he entered the narrow room, pushing past his children to reach the bed. He assessed his mother while chewing the inside of his cheek.

"Why do you say that?" Adler asked.

"Magrahel."

A knowing groan passed between the cousins, as if he had made a morbid discovery. I leaned into Nico and asked, "What does that mean?"

"The veil between our realm and the void is thinnest during Magrahel. As you know, the void is composed of shadows, the same ones we receive at birth and lose in death. During Magrahel, the shadows try to return to the void since the barrier is more permeated, but the soul holds on—unless it's too weak to do so."

"The soul is like a tether, keeping our shadows in the living realm?" I asked him.

He nodded slowly. "A soul can let go of their shadow at any moment, from any cause of death. But for those who are particularly weak, like Nonna's currently, it's difficult for the soul to keep the darkness of the void assigned to the body."

I wanted to inquire more about the process, but there was a tremor in his voice I didn't recognize. To someone who didn't know him as well, they might assume he appeared stoic and strong, but I knew Nicolai as well as I knew myself. Perhaps even more so given the current circumstances—I still felt unsure looking in the mirror. That crease in his forehead only came out when he was worried. The swirl of his thumb over the back of my hand told me he was seeking comfort, and I'd bet if he hadn't left his cigarillos upstairs in his rush, he'd be burning one right now.

Esme had always chastised him about being the favorite grandchild, but I believed Nonna had inadvertently filled the space his parents left when they died, and she'd played that role of a matriarch in his life—even if he was too old to require it. And now he was watching her die.

Ruth, a haelen I recognized, knocked on the doorframe to announce her arrival. The family snapped out of their silent spell and shifted to the edges of the room to give her space to work. Fran stood from the bedside and came beside me.

"Is there anything we can do about Magrahel?" I asked her.

Fran offered a solemn smile. "We surround her with the things that keep the soul strong, Milla. Love and family, laughter and music, the things that bring her joy in life will nurture her soul and help her remain with us a long as possible." She glanced sideways at the sleeping woman. "If that's what she wants, of course."

Nico tugged on my arm. "We should give the healer some space." He looked at his aunt. "Let us know if Ruth makes any progress."

"You're leaving?" Solomon asked.

"I have to," Nico replied, already pulling me toward the hall.

"But she needs you, Nico. How can you keep working when your family needs you to be here?"

"Sol..." Fran spoke between them, a warning in her voice.

"No, Fran. This is important. She could slip away at any moment, and he still prioritizes business over his own family!"

"It's not a choice I make lightly. Nor would I expect you to understand, Uncle." Nico paused in the doorway, hand braced on the frame.

"Then help me, Nico," Solomon pleaded with him. "What is going on with you? The book can be found another day. My mother cannot wait until you have time for her!"

"If I don't do this, I won't have any time to give her at all." He tugged me into the hall, releasing my hand on the way to pull out a pocket watch attached to the chain on his vest. He cursed and tucked it back in its pouch and tore his false hand through his hair.

When we were far enough down the hall, I stopped him. "Why don't you just tell your uncle about your shadow? He would understand!"

"Doubtful," Nico spat, turning away.

"Nico, wait!"

"I've got to go, Milla!"

"Sabina can wait a few minutes," I told him, knowing full well the bleeder queen would disagree if she were present. "Look at me!"

He stopped, shoulders slumped, and slowly—reluctantly—spun to face me. "I can't do this right now. I can't... be here." He shook his head, fighting some invisible emotion.

Taking a few steps to stand in front of him, I slipped my palm around his jaw. "This is the second time you've run away in the past few days. Tell me, what's going on?"

His eyes drifted shut for a moment, letting a section of his wall down to let me through. "The more I try, the more I lose."

"What does that mean?"

He sighed and pulled me down the hall where a bench was pressed near a snow-covered window. "How can I ask them to abandon Nonna on Magrahel when she needs her family more than ever? What if I make the wrong call and she dies because we weren't there? Or if I lose the opportunity to get the book and my shadow back—" He made an exasperated sound as he turned his gaze toward the view of the garden.

"You are afraid, Nico."

He neither agreed nor denied my claim. I grabbed his hands and squeezed them. "You are not any less the capable, brilliant man I know because you are fearful of losing everything you worked for. But fear can only be beaten with faith. You cannot do this all alone, Nico."

"You're spending too much time around Sol," he mumbled.

I smiled. "You once said I was your greatest weakness, but I don't think that's true. I think your inability to trust makes you vulnerable. If you aren't careful, it will lead to your downfall."

"This isn't a very good pep talk, Milla." He tried to jerk out of my grasp, but I held steady.

"Good thing I'm not trying to make you feel better." I stood on my toes to place a kiss on his lips. "You know what needs to be done; you're just too afraid to do it because of who it would require help from."

"I don't trust them," he whispered.

"Then trust me," I pleaded. "Trust my judgement."

A crease formed between his brows as he fell deep in thought, most likely trying to find an alternative. But the look in his eyes was resigned. "I do, even if it goes against my own."

My smile softened. "Good. Now go figure out the drop with Sabina and get back to your Nonna. I'm sure she'll want her favorite grandchild around, and you need to spend as much time with her until tomorrow night. I'll handle the other details."

"Yes, boss," he said with the bow of his head. "Keep an eye on her for me."

"I will."

I watched him disappear down the hall toward the side drive before I headed toward the rear yard in search of my brothers. I hoped Aramis had packed his finest suit—he was going to need it.