Chapter 44

It snowed the night the veil between this world and the void thinned into a permeable barrier. White flurries dusted the tracks of the viaduct leading to the Districts. The Ada was frozen over, glimmering in the pale moonlight that shone in the cloudless night sky.

Nico held my arm as we crossed, worried my dangerous choice in footwear would send me over the edge of the bridge. "I told you not to wear those shoes," he murmured beside me.

"Well, I couldn't pair my evening dress with leather boots, Nicolai." Though, trying to balance my steps across the frozen stone and mortar composing the bridge was a skill set all by itself.

His breath clouded in front of his lips as he scoffed. Nico wore a classic black suit with a steel-grey tie tucked behind a satin vest with the OIC pin he'd been gifted from the Overseer attached to the lapel of his jacket to make his look more convincing. He hadn't put on his mask yet. We'd do that in the carriages, ones we would take separately so no one would associate the two of us together.

"All things considered," he whispered, "you look stunning. Though, I still believe you look better in Attano red."

"Your opinion is greatly biased." My cheeks were frozen stiff as I smiled.

The family tailor had designed my dress with long sleeves that started off the shoulder, tightly fitted around the bodice but with a forgiving material that allowed me to breath. With a skirt that was equally light and flexible, she added a high slit in case I needed to get away quickly. The garment was made to charm yet maintained a practical function.

It was the shade of green she chose, however, that made me feel the most comfortable I'd ever felt in a gown. A deep emerald lace with delicate jewels sewn throughout, the tiny crystals winked in the moonlight as we crossed the viaduct.

The color had been a personal request. It felt right to return to the Districts wearing my old armor.

"Nonna asked about you, Milla. She woke up not long after you left to get ready."

"That's a good sign, right? She hasn't been coherent since the fall."

Nico shrugged with the jerk of his broad shoulders. "I suppose it's better than being loopy all the time. I feel better knowing the cousins are with her, though I know they're very displeased to stay behind."

I peered over my shoulder at Luther, who took a swig from his flask before tucking it inside his coat. "All but one, anyway."

"I'll never shake Luther. He's my right-hand man—or I guess I should say my left." He wiggled his metal fingers concealed beneath his glove against my forearm, chuckling at the terrible joke.

"Glad you're in good spirits going into this," I said. "He has the Veritas?"

"Ready to go."

"And the benders you hired to push the cars?"

Nico stiffened. "Left this morning to take the bridge in Anghor to approach the South Gate from the low road. The Boys are scattered along the tracks through the city, and they'll send word when the cars are through. They scouted the route this morning, but most of the Watch is patrolling the Wet District, so they should be fine."

What he pointedly left out was the mention of Aramis cutting a deal with Narcissa to make sure the guards posted in the common areas were busy or somewhat distracted. A little copper could make anyone turn their head in this city, and Nico didn't ask questions when my brother asked for a small allowance to send Narcissa's way.

"Right." I sighed. "All that's left now is our part."

"How are you feeling?" he asked, just as we made it to the end of the bridge.

The small heel of my flat stepped off the solid bridge and sunk into a grassy knoll descending to a padded dirt path leading toward the Wet District. Three carriages, courtesy of Narcissa herself, were parked and ready.

"Spiteful," I answered him. The thought of returning all the pain the Nine and their supporters had caused us burned any hesitation away in my heart. I had my power inside my bones, my husband at my side, and my family behind me. There was nothing Felix could do to stop us from taking back this city.

"I was asking about your remnant, but I'm glad you're choosing malice tonight." He winked.

My hands balled into fists. Despite the testing and training, the various times I had proven to myself I could control it, my power still sat unsettled inside me. Like it was being held over a flame to boil. Whether it was my own nerves or the thinning veil that brought us closer to Oblivion, it took focus to keep it from crawling through my veins.

But I didn't want to worry Nicolai, so instead I told him, "It's fine."

He came to a halt before the cars, caressing my gloved hand in his own. "Show them all your malice, princess. You are a daughter of Chaos, and you have nothing and no one to hide from anymore. Trust yourself. Trust your fire." He kissed my knuckles before taking a deliberate step back, my fingers slipping from his touch. "I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered, too fearful to say them any louder in case the shadows listened as Nonna once warned. Life had a way of giving me everything I treasured most, but the darkness found its own cruel way of taking it back. He loaded the first car with Luther and Finn, who had already slipped on their obsidian masks nearly identical to Nico's.

With a glossy black veneer constructing a blank expression, the design was simple yet coincidentally disturbing. Nico had styled his hair differently, hiding his signature fade with an outgrown style that had to be combed back at the sides. Even the eyes of his mask concealed any recognizable feature of his face—including the intimidating steel-grey stare which had become well-known on this side of the city. Esme applied a thin, metallic coating to the glass on the outside, so Nico could see out, but no one could see through. Snooping glass, as she called it.

I hadn't required the same glass on my own, as my eyes were a more mundane color. But with the mask covering every inch of my face, it would be impossible to pick me out of a crowd—especially when I was still supposed to be dead.

"Let's go." Aramis sighed and held the door open for me. He was dressed in a plain suit—an old one, but his measurements must not have changed much since the last time he was fitted. Not since Sera...

I shook her face out of my thoughts before she lingered too long. I needed a clear head to think straight tonight, and not one biased with a heavy heart and guilty conscience.

The seats in Narcissa's carriage were stiff and appeared hardly used. My brother sat across from me, his mask in his hands, staring at the metal in his palms while he brooded. Jeremiah sat beside me on the bench, a bit reluctant to be dragged along, but with the absence of the cousins, I wanted another number on our side.

"I'm only to keep watch, correct?" he asked.

"Unless something goes wrong. Then we might need you," I replied.

Aramis flipped his mask once between two fingers. "You'll be on the balcony with one of Narcissa's girls, watching the floor. Nico has that mentalus with him—"

"Finn," I said.

He shrugged like it hardly mattered. "Yes, Finn. He'll be monitoring your thoughts, so you can alarm him if you see anything suspicious. Be careful what you're thinking about up there with the courtesan."

"Like I care about courtesans." He slumped against the slope of the seat backing. The carriage had started down the pebbled path, shifting as we hit the beginnings of the cobblestone roads. "I don't understand why you brought me along. Anyone could be a lookout. I'm shit with a gun."

I patted his bouncing knee in an attempt to distract him from his nerves. "You have your own talents, Jer. But most importantly, you're a Marchese. There's no one else I trust more to be watching over us."

Aramis grunted across from me. I studied him before he put on his mask. He hadn't said a word all night, had hardly spoken the days before besides the mentioning of his workings with Narcissa. Without the train and Marcus going back and forth to communicate, we could not coordinate anything further than our original plans for Magrahel.

Thankfully, the carriages still arrived on time and in place, which meant the rest of our deals should be similarly arranged.

"No pushing your glint on me tonight, brother?"

Aramis looked at me then, peering up through his pale lashes before settling them back on the mask between his fingers. "Not tonight."

My gut sensed something was wrong, unsettled by the lack of pushback.

"The party started an hour ago," he said before I could ask him why he was being so lenient tonight. "So the events of the night are well underway by now. Most of the guests will have arrived, and the drinks have begun to flow. Jer, you'll wait at the foot of the stairwell for the escort."

"And what about us? How are you going to change into your disguise?" I asked.

"Narcissa should have planted a watchman's uniform in one of the servant's lockers down by the kitchens. I'll change quickly to make it look like I'm escorting you to the lab at the Firenzes' request."

It felt too simple. There were bound to be problems we weren't planning for—weren't prepared for. "And you're sure the book will be in the lab? What if Felix keeps it in an office—or even his private quarters?"

Aramis was shaking his head before I even finished. "No. I've seen Felix with his important work before. He keeps all his references and research in a small office in the lab itself. We don't have time to search the main house. Our energies are better spent investigating the most probable location."

I sucked in a breath and peeked out the window to gauge how much longer the ride would last. Ten minutes with my family and I was already desperate for some space. Thankfully, they fell silent the rest of the way. Aramis and Jeremiah applied their masks while I made sure the thin chains clasping mine to my head were secure and in place. The last thing I needed was a surprise unmasking in front of a room of Niners and their supporters.

The carriage came to a stop over a gravel driveway, and I took a calming breath as the lights from the Firenze estate slipped into the dark carriage.

"Everything is going to be fine," Aramis whispered just as the driver opened the door to let us out. My brothers got out first, assisting me after. I grabbed both their waiting hands, clinging to them even after I was steady and walking up the front steps to the group of guards standing at the entryway.

The home was stunning, even more immaculate than the rumors had painted: a three-story structure with thick ivy growing between rows of windows brimming golden light from the gas lamps inside. Music hummed through the brick, and my pulse picked up to the jovial beat.

Nico and his own men were already inside by the time we reached the front doors, swallowed by the party lights and sounds. The watchmen stationed at the entrance each wore the formless mask and black and silver capes. Their posture was informal—a casual slouch tipped the guard's shoulders as we approached.

Aramis wordlessly handed him an invitation—though I had no idea where he'd swiped one. "The Ingolia Family from Inverstead," the watchman muttered. His brow cocked. "I didn't know we had a patron family that far south."

"Word spread fast across the Isle when the bridge was destroyed," Aramis spoke in a low voice. "And we could no longer ignore the threat growing in the heart of our country. We've come to officially join the ranks of the patrons before us."

The guard was quiet for a moment, flipping the invitation over in his hand. Finally, he nodded to the watchman standing idle to the side. "Search them."

My breath hitched as a man came behind me, and I had to fight the knee-jerk reaction to shrink from the gloved hands that reached for my frame. Thankfully, my satin gloves were pulled high up my arm, and he only searched the places covered with fabric, avoiding my bare skin.

My brother stepped toward us. "Now, I don't know how you men do it here in Lynchaven, but down in Inverstead we don't touch a lady down there without permission," he said lightheartedly as the guard patted my skirts. "It's downright indecent."

I would have rolled my eyes had the man behind me not cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I meant no disrespect, sir. It's only—"

"You're worried a small woman might be harboring weapons of destruction underneath all those layers of brocade? That's a very convenient notion, if you ask me." Jeremiah joined the conversation as the other guards finished searching them.

The watchman patted around my hips cautiously, as if my brothers had convinced him he truly was being indecent by doing his job. The air shifted as he stepped back and returned to his post next to the rest of the Watch, not even bothering to move aside my skirts.

"Gentlemen," I said, faking a warm laugh and offered the group a delicate wave with my fingers, flustering him further if the bob of his helmet was any indication. The mask made it difficult to read people, which was simultaneously beneficial and problematic in my position. It was difficult to anticipate one's intentions when I couldn't see their eyes.

Without waiting for the guards to change their minds, my brothers and I were swept into the dull roar of a hundred more patron families, the lights of a grand party, and the music that swelled from the heart of the gathering.

Nico and his men were nowhere to be found, and I searched for them in the sea of taffeta skirts and feathered masks, even as Aramis dragged me into an empty hall that extended from the main foyer.

He rounded a corner at the end of the hall where a narrow staircase wrapped the inner wall. Brushing my skirts aside, I removed the pistols attached to the sheaths around my thighs and handed them both the weapons I'd kept hidden until we got past security, grateful to be rid of the bulky guns so I could walk normally again.

They shoved them quickly in their waistbands before anyone joined us in the quiet corridor, concealing the hilt with their jackets. Aramis nodded toward the stairs. "Wait there, Jer. She should be along to retrieve you soon."

Jeremiah grumbled his excitement at the opportunity. I wanted to remind him he had the preferred job out of anyone tonight, but Aramis was already pulling me by the arm back to the party. The navy and olive designs on the wallpaper were a mere blur as we rushed past. I only had time to look back at my younger brother and whisper the words, "Be careful."

"Take care of yourselves," he replied quietly.

The empty expression of his mask was the last thing I saw as we turned the corner once more.

"Where are the servants' quarters?" I asked.

"In the back, near the kitchens. Just use your nose."

"Will it not be strange that we're lurking around in the halls while everyone else is in the main room?"

Another hall intersected our path; this one I understood ran along the right side of the home. According to Aramis's sketch of the place, the Firenzes' manor was essentially formed by a right and left wing with a large entertaining area in the center. The second and third floors had corridors running north and south to the main room where the party was held, where one could look down over the gathering from the comfort of several sitting areas. The Firenzes that lived here had rooms on various floors, spaced out from each other. Not even Aramis could narrow down the purpose of every room—all thirty-odd something of them.

The savory smell of broiled meat, heady spice, and baked breads led us to the left, heading back toward the main area. Couples gathered on the sides of the hall, escaping the noise of the party to talk in private exchanges. The staff, noted by the starch white shirts and white gloves donning their uniform, wove between the groups, disappearing through a pair of swinging doors. Aramis hadn't marked this area on his map.

"I'll be right back," he muttered. "Don't talk to anyone while I'm gone."

Before I could argue, he slipped behind a servant and disappeared through the kitchen entrance. My brother seemed confident enough that he knew where he was going, so I paced up the hall to busy myself, eager to gain a glimpse of the party despite the risk of drawing someone's attention.

"Excuse me, miss!"

I swerved just in time to dodge a tray of empty champagne flutes. The server dashed around my left side as I dodged him to make room for his wide tray. It was chaos, watching the staff leave with full trays and return with empty ones, a continuous cycle to fuel the debauchery.

Velvet curtains framed the archway leading into the main room, and despite my disdain for the family who owned this frivolous display of wealth they called a home, I couldn't help the way my eyes widened behind my mask, taking it all in.

Four crystal-dripped chandeliers hung from each corner of the ceiling, reflecting their flickering candlelight against the tin ceiling tiles and enhancing the warm bronze of their beveled faces. My gaze fell to the wrought iron banisters lining the upper levels, where my brother would watch from a safe distance.

A ten-piece band was playing against the far wall, yet no one danced. Instead, they socialized, shouting over the music and the blaring horns that only provided a backdrop for the party. Still, I searched for Nico, his cousin, and the young mentalus that followed them.

Like an ardent breath against my cheek, a gentle breeze stroked the left side of my jaw, guiding my head slightly toward a group standing near the wall of windows overlooking the back of the Firenze property. Nico stood with Finn and Luther at a table, pretending to drink and smoke, if the contents of the table were any indication.

A slight pressure pressed my temples inward. Finn must have been reading my thoughts in case I needed to tell them something. I let him know my satisfaction at finding them safely past the first hurdle in our plan.

He lingered in my head too long, and I figured, if I had to wait here, I might as well enjoy myself.

My focus went to Nico, an idea flickering in my imagination as I smiled behind my mask and delighted in the way Finn's posture went completely rigid. The band of pressure around my head disappeared immediately.

Someone interrupted my fun. Vanya was making her rounds among the guests and finally made her way to Nico's table. Her mask only partially hid her face, unlike the one covering my own, and her dress was a lighter shade of platinum that reminded me of molten silver melting from her waist as she moved.

There was something missing, however. The hosts of the night were nowhere to be found. In fact, I hadn't seen a single Firenze among the crowds, and I wondered if they were already upstairs in their elusive meetings Aramis had mentioned.

Some of my nerves dissolved, seeing Nico with one of our allies. I nodded in his direction and turned to walk back down the hall where I had left my brother—running straight into the hard chest of a man in a navy suit.

"My apologies, miss," the man said. "Is there something I can help you with?"

That voice. It had haunted me enough to draw a bad taste in my mouth, a nervous flutter in my heart. My gaze lifted from his tie to his face, and I nearly gasped at the smug smile exposed from his half-mask.

Felix Firenze.