Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Vale

When the Fates finally released me from their timeworn grasps, my body was wrung out and heavy. More so than ever.

Sensation returned to me slowly, but I was on my back, chills peppering my skin.

It took a few tries for me to regain control of my body. Was this because I'd forced my magic down for so many weeks? Likely.

Finally, I tentatively flexed my fingers at my side, searching for anything to grip.

Where I expected to meet the cold stone of the chamber floor, I found soft fabric beneath the pads of my fingers.

My eyes flew open, and I rocked upright, my head spinning. As my vision steadied, a cry lodged in the back of my throat.

A silver and diamond chandelier looked down from the center of the room. The light was caught by sweeping, dark curtains pulled across the windows, stretching from high ceilings to rug-covered floors. Because as a girl, the starkness of the white stone flooring had reminded me too much of the temple.

I was on a bed much too large for one person, set in an ash-white frame with four posts and silk curtains meant to signify luxury, privacy, and intimacy. Things I'd never realized I didn't feel here.

And a skylight revealed the heavens, storm clouds blocking out the stars.

I was back in my room in Titus's manor.

"No." My chest splintered.

I stared at the roiling sky above, a cold emptiness stealing through my body. In my mind, a future was torn from my grasp, leaving my fingers raw and bleeding from trying to cling to its broken edges.

I'd been returned to my cage, and instead of the affluence and safety I once saw it as, cold bars rattled as they slammed shut, snuffing out my freedom.

I stood at the glass door to my balcony for a long time. Too long, probably. I wouldn't open it, though. Wouldn't attempt to go outside. Because I had a sinking suspicion that the door couldn't open. If I didn't try, at least I could live in the denial that it was my choice to remain behind the glass.

My room was on the third floor, elevated above the rest of the First District and giving me an expansive view of Valyn. Storm clouds blocked the moon, the capital unspooling at the foot of Titus's manor and forming a wave of deep shadows and flickering mystlights.

They almost looked like stars poured onto the street, the world turned upside-down since Cypherion and I entered the archives earlier this evening.

Cypherion…Every time I thought of him, his name tore through the splintered hole Titus's betrayals had ripped within me. I pulled my velvet cloak tighter around my shoulders.

Where was Cypherion? Hopefully not here.

I hoped he ran. I hoped he abandoned me in that temple when Harlen showed up. Pressing my hand to the cool glass, I hoped he was far away now.

Though it wasn't smart given recent events, a piece of me wished I had reading supplies so I could search the Mystique Second's fate for any indication that he'd gotten out of the archives. But apparently my room had been stripped of anything useful in the months since I'd been gone.

When had that happened? Was it following the Battle of Damenal, when I revealed I'd been the one to read the darkness shrouding Ophelia during the Rapture last spring? Had Titus stopped trusting me entirely then, or had it taken more time to devolve?

Perhaps it was only recently, once word reached him that I was back in Starsearcher Territory and had not come to him?

Perhaps he'd never intended for me to return here at all.

The readings I'd seen of him destroying priceless artifacts and ancient works of art played through my mind again. What would happen to shove the chancellor I used to admire into that madness?

It was possible he'd been on that road for much longer than I cared to acknowledge.

The door to my suite swung open, and I whirled, half expecting to see Titus striding in here, pretending to be relieved and charmed by my presence.

It wasn't him, though. An unsettling disappointment swooped through me. How was I still so dependent on Titus's approval after everything I'd acknowledged about him?

A question for a later time because the person entering my chamber had a heat rivaling starfire churning in my gut.

"What are you doing here, Harlen?" I sneered. "Why in the everlasting Fates are you working with Titus? And how ?"

"Vale, are you all right?" He strode confidently toward me, as if he was allowed access to my bedchamber without question.

"Now you care?" I asked icily, lifting a brow. I crossed my arms to keep myself from hitting him.

Harlen flinched. "I have always cared about you."

"Enough to lock me up." The reminder had my fingers curling into my velvet cloak. My throat tightened.

Taking a slow breath, I looked up at the skylight and tried to pretend I stood in my hot springs, nothing but trees and a star-speckled sky for miles. I imagined the scent of washed stone and bergamot, the warm water lapping at my bare skin and steam wafting through the air, curling the tendrils of my hair along my temples.

"That's what you think I did?" Harlen asked, exasperation pitching his voice and breaking my meditation.

I closed my eyes and said goodbye to that safe space amid the jungle.

"It may not seem that way to you. But look around." I turned back toward the balcony doors, Harlen following. "I am not free within these walls." I placed one hand against the glass. "These views may be freedom for some, displaying the world and dreams waiting beyond, but I feel them like slices against my skin."

His brows pulled together. "What are you talking about?"

"I have always been a prisoner here." I glared at him, voice low. "I didn't realize it for many years, and my life here was certainly better than in the temple, but there were common rights I was still not granted. Things I didn't even think to ask for after living in fear."

Harlen scoffed. "I heard of your triumphs, Vale. Of how you were named the youngest apprentice in Starsearcher history, most likely to take Titus's position decades from now." He stepped closer, but I didn't retreat, only kept one hand against the glass. "How you were his precious little pet he paraded to the Raptures."

Understanding ignited a flickering spark in my brain. "You're jealous?"

Harlen was quiet, his lips pressing together exactly as they used to when we were children. His hands fisted at his sides.

Sixteen years may have passed, and yet Harlen had all the same tells.

He likely had the same desires, too. He was trying to fill that basic need for affection, for nurturing and unconditional love. The things we'd both thought Titus was giving me as a girl—a father when I had been ripped from mine too young.

Harlen had missed me when I left Lumin, and he had allowed bitterness to fester in the space I left behind.

Though I was wary, I understood how that could happen. We had only been children after all. And it was that mental image of a younger us, so hopeful about getting away from the temple, that dulled the edge of the anger within me.

"Harls," I sighed. "I missed you every day of those first few years here. And then, as I grew older, I convinced myself you were better off at the temple without me. They never wanted you for your magic the way they did me."

His head tilted curiously.

"I told myself our paths were better unwound," I continued. "You would not be dragged down by the possessive battles over my magic."

"I don't understand, Vale. What do they want with your magic? And what was happening in that chamber when I found you and Kastroff?"

Cypherion's name sent another pang of longing through me. I didn't know what he'd said to Harlen in that chamber, but there was a waver of wariness through my old friend's voice that convinced me he was trying to see my perspective, to see the walls of this manor for the cage they'd become.

And if I wanted to stand a chance of ensuring Cypherion was safe, I needed Harlen on my side.

I chose a truth that was solely mine—nothing to do with Cypherion's friends—and shoved aside the lingering distrust.

"I have nine Fate ties, Harlen."

He froze. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, like saying it too loud might summon the celestial beings themselves. "Nine?"

"Nine," I confirmed. And I prayed to all of them I hadn't just made a horrible mistake in revealing this.

I told him how the Lumin Temple council had found out I was powerful and stole me from my family. How I'd thought Titus was my savior, and how I only realized recently that he was far from it. How my readings had been malfunctioning—though I left out Ophelia's Angelcurse—and that was why Cypherion and I were sent here.

Harlen asked many questions—he was always a curious little boy, now a studious grown man—and I answered them as best I could without exposing the Mystiques' secrets.

And when I finished, we sat before the fire in silence for a while. Finally, Harlen asked, "How can I help?"

Determination hardened his expression, thawing a bit of my wariness. All he'd done—while it was unknowingly betraying me—had been to help me, after all.

And I did not have to trust him in order to work with him. If his goal was truly to help me, this was a mutually beneficial partnership.

"Cypherion," I finally breathed, his name desperate as it left my mouth. "He got away from the archives, right?"

Harlen sheepishly said, "He's in one of the guest chambers on the second floor."

Of course he hadn't left. He hadn't left me .

I fought back the stinging that rose to my eyes at that understanding and pictured the layout of the manor, the vast halls and endless rooms he could be in. Some cold and empty, some lavishly furnished. I had an inkling which Titus would have given him.

"Hurt?" I asked.

Harlen swallowed. "Drugged." The world nearly exploded around me, and I shot for the door. Harlen stopped me, grabbing my shoulders and looking in my eyes. "It's leaving his system. He was just starting to wake when I came up here, but you can't go to him, Vale. Think of how Titus would react knowing your first move when you woke was to seek out the Mystique?"

Not well, that was how. But— "I don't give a star-damned fuck what Titus wants anymore, Harlen!"

"I know, I know," he soothed. "But if you want Kastroff to live, we have to be smart."

"To live?" I muttered.

"If everything you've told me about Titus using you is true, and he lied to me to recruit me so easily, I can guess what lengths he'll go to keep you here." Harlen's words settled in my gut like stones sinking below a pond's surface. "If he thinks Kastroff is a threat to that…"

He could order him to be tortured. Or worse.

I nodded, trying to stifle my panic and gripping my velvet cloak tighter around me. "Is he chained?"

"Just restrained with ropes so he couldn't attempt anything when he woke."

That was good. Ropes shouldn't hurt him, and it would likely settle him a bit to know they hadn't shackled him. Cypherion was strategic enough to know that had to be intentional.

"I need him to be okay, Harls," I whispered, my lips trembling as I forced the words out. "Whatever happens, I need him to be okay. He saved me."

Harlen pulled me in for a hug, and this time, I allowed the comfort. I pressed my hands against his chest and took deep breaths in time with his. When I stopped shaking, he mumbled against my head, "You truly care for him?"

"More than the Fates could have foreseen," I admitted.

"That won't go well." There was an apology in his voice that resonated deep in my bones.

I pushed back to look up at my friend. "I know, but I?—"

"No, you don't understand." He shook his head. "Titus says you belong to him . Not as an apprentice. As property, like it's tied by magic or something."

Unease snaked down my spine, but in its wake, indignation rose. My spirit reared within me as if lit by the hottest starfire the Fates could muster.

"I am no one's property," I ground out. I'd once belonged to someone, to a master and an age-old structure.

Never again.

Never again would I be at the mercy of anyone . My choice was my power now.

"I didn't realize how the chancellor viewed you when I signed a contract with him," Harlen said. "I hope you can believe that."

And though I remained wary of offering him trust, to an extent, I did. He had betrayed me, but Harlen had been as damaged as I was by the temples. I didn't think for a moment that he would support the chancellor demanding ownership of me or any other warrior.

It had been the lost boy within Harlen making that misguided deal to save the friend he missed.

Taking a step back, I sank onto the edge of my bed.

"How did it happen?" I asked. "The contract."

"He preyed on my weakness." Harlen shrugged and sat beside me, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Said you were in trouble and that you'd asked for my help. You were like my sister, Vale. I couldn't leave you. He told me the Mystiques held you prisoner and that he suspected you'd be returning on orders from the new Revered, but only briefly." He folded his hands, fingers fidgeting. "Titus wanted me to help you get away from your guard and return you here so he could protect you. And he made me an apprentice in exchange for my help."

An apprentice. Another stinging betrayal against the wounds in my heart. I was so imperative yet so easily replaced.

I shook my head. "He was never the one protecting me."

But even as I said it, a twisted feeling wrenched through my gut.

"I see that now. I saw it when the Mystique threw that knife at my head." A sly smirk twisted his lips. "That was not a bodyguard protecting his prisoner. That was…something deeper."

"I need to see him," I said, spinning on the bed and tucking my legs beneath me.

"I don't know if it's a good idea."

"Please, Harls. Bring him here. I won't ever leave my room." It wouldn't appease Titus, but at least if he thought I was staying where he wanted me, I could spin that obedience in an argument. "And then, we need to get him out. Can you help me?"

I didn't ask about myself. I knew where tonight ended for me.

"Fine." Harlen sighed and strode to the door. "Dinner will be in an hour, though. We'll have to be quick. Wait here."

"Okay," I said, fidgeting with the edge of my cloak.

As he gripped the door handle, Harlen turned over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Vale. I was only trying to protect you."

I gave him a tight-lipped nod. Not forgiveness, but partnership. "I have learned to be my own protector, Harls."

"I'm proud of you for that." His eyes shifted to the wardrobe beside the balcony doors. "He'll want you to change, you know. That cloak…it will only anger him more."

Then, he was out the door, and I was left staring at the wardrobe, dread hardening in my gut.