Chapter 20

ChapterTwenty

He thought he might love her.

Alistair had this thought a few months after they’d been meeting at least twice a week. Sometimes it was at the altar; other times, he could make an excuse to run away to Waterdown. No one had caught them yet, and the secret burned inside his chest with exhilarating adventure at all times.

She sometimes sent him home with a bundle of flowers. Each one she claimed to have plucked when she thought about him. The basket was always difficult to carry because it was so large.

And he knew it was early to be thinking words so strong as love. Thea had barely even talked to her family about their meetings other than the first time they’d met him. But he still dreamt about eating dinner with them and laughing at their jokes but understanding them this time. He wondered what it was like to have a family like theirs. One so close to each other that they teased and laughed and never threatened each other’s lives.

Alistair wouldn’t mind living with her or her family. Even though all those women might be a little overwhelming, he often thought about how soft it had all felt. And then he remembered he was in the Orbweaver Manor, and his life was full of sharp edges.

A knock pounded against his door. Alistair hadn’t the faintest idea who would want to speak with him. He’d been alone for the better part of three days. His father was busy doing something in the basement, Alistair didn’t want to know, and his brothers were out helping the Academy get ready for their next year.

He hated to think about what those poor new students would endure under the not-so-watchful eyes of his brothers. Alistair, however, would be safely tucked away from them in his last year at the Academy. Which was coming all too soon now that he thought about it.

How many more weeks did he even have with her? How many weeks until they would be parted for an entire year?

Alistair hadn’t considered it yet but found he didn’t enjoy the thought. They could write, of course. They were good at that now; after all, it had been two years. But they were older, too. And she was a beautiful young woman who could catch the eye of many men in Waterdown.

He’d seen those men now. They were all tall and broad—either farmers or sailors with big shoulders and heavy arms. As he walked towards the door, he paused in front of the mirror. He was tall. Taller than most of those men, if he was being honest. But Alistair had always been lean. Stringy, his brothers like to say. Fragile, his father called him.

How did one fix that? He could offer to work on one of the ships for a season, but his father wouldn’t let him get past the door if he tried. Maybe he’d ask around school. Someone at the Academy had to know why those men looked like that and how he could turn himself into one.

Resolving himself to becoming handsome and brawny, he swung open his door, expecting a servant.

Balthazar stood in the hallway, waiting for Alistair. The sight of his father was so startling he forgot to look down at his feet. Instead, he stared right at the wrinkles winging from the corners of Balthazar’s eyes, the quiet slope of his shoulders, and the hard jump of muscles at his jaw.

His father was angry. But Alistair had no idea what he’d done this time.

“Uh,” Alistair stuttered, then swallowed. “Father.”

Where was the intent to be a strong, brawny man? All of a sudden, Alistair felt all that bravery drain out of him as though he had been smashed beneath his father’s shoe. He was the beaten son of a man with so much anger in him that he could have powered a city with it. And that didn’t go away because some girl had given him a reason for being.

Still, he wished he could funnel all the excitement of knowing Thea was in his life and change that into a power of his own.

“You’re coming with me to the town square,” Balthazar snarled as though even he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Get your things and meet me at the carriage.”

“Now?”

His father raised an eyebrow. “Now, boy.”

Alistair only had a few moments to stare at his father’s back as the old man walked away from him. What nonsense was this? He never went to the town square with his father. Cassius or Lysander did, depending on how busy one of his older brothers was. No one invited Alistair.

Ever.

He knew very well that change in this house was something to be terrified of. Pausing only for a moment to lock eyes with Atlas, he gathered up his coat and tossed it over his shoulders. Things? What did his father mean by things?

Frantically, he grabbed something that resembled a wallet so he wouldn’t look like a penniless fool walking around the town beside his father and then raced down the hall. Nerves churned in his stomach until he feared he might throw up the moment he stepped into the carriage. If his father was bringing him to the town square, then that meant something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

At least it was the same footman as always at the top of the carriage. The man touched his fingers to his hat, but the expression on his face was troubled. So much for reassurance.

He opened the door to the carriage, and the darkness inside seemed to swallow his father. Darkness clung to Balthazar’s shoulders like literal hands that tugged his clothing back into place every time he moved. Those long spider legs of darkness then would retreat behind him, ready at any point to either defend or attack.

Shivering, Alistair got into the carriage and sat down on the cushions far from his father. The icy air surrounded him, digging underneath his coat and dragging out all the heat. Without thought, he reached into the pockets of his jacket, pulled out the knit hat he so adored, and plopped it onto his head.

His father eyed him with disgust. “You will not wear that once we reach the town square.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Although Alistair would try. It was too cold around his father not to wear something on his head. His ears might fall off.

Balthazar leaned back in the cushions and watched the windows as they started away from their home. The neat rows of identical houses never changed, no matter where they went in Wildecliff. Although their dark manor had the perfect view of Sunspell Academy, that certainly set them apart.

“You’re in your last year, aren’t you, boy?”

Alistair wasn’t certain what his father was talking about until his mind caught up with the conversation. “I am, sir.”

“And what are your plans for afterwards?”

He had no plans. Wildecliff wasn’t the place for him, Alistair had decided. And if he had his way, his father would forget he’d ever had a third son, so Alistair could sneak off to Waterdown one last time and never return.

Of course, he couldn’t tell his father that. Balthazar would murder him right here in the carriage and have his shadows clean up the body before anyone even knew Alistair was missing.

Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to figure out some lie to tell his father. He didn’t have to.

Balthazar lifted a hand for silence. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you sneaking off? I know you’ve been leaving the house a lot more lately and returning far more pleased with yourself than you have any right to do. You’ve got some lady somewhere that you’ve fallen in love with. Is that it?”

All the blood in his body went ice cold. Alistair felt as though one of the shadows had him by the throat. He refused to let his father know about Thea. He didn’t dare to even whisper her name in front of the old man who would tarnish her memory with fear.

So he nodded. That was all he could do. Lying to his father had worse repercussions than not telling him the entire truth.

Balthazar hummed and touched a thin finger to his lips. “I don’t disagree with you having a dalliance with a girl foolish enough to do so. We all sow our wild oats, and for one, I’m pleased to know you’re not inept at everything. However, you will recognize that this girl is a passing fancy, and you will marry the woman I choose. Just as your brothers will.”

The silence pounded against his ears afterward. Was that it? Was that all his father would say to him?

Alistair had no intention of marrying anyone that his father picked. The young woman would be just as cruel as his family, and everyone else in Wildecliff could be. She would be a horrible wife, a terrible mother, a partner that would drag him down into the abyss of despair and madness.

He had to get out of here. He had to leave this life before his father ruined any future Alistair might have dreamt of.

“Don’t think about running,” his father murmured, turning his attention back to the window. “All you boys want to run, but you forget that you’re tied to me. I can always find my blood, and that sings in you louder than you know.”

And if it were possible, Alistair would drain that blood from his body drop by drop to get away.

A shadow curled over his shoulder and placed a talon against his belly. The long spider leg didn’t feel like a shadow. It felt real and solid and sharp against the unprotected flesh it could rip into.

Alistair swallowed hard. “I won’t run, father. I know my place is with this family, in our house, upholding the good nature of your name.”

He said the words to appease his father’s desire. Maybe if he said what Balthazar wanted to hear, then his father would forget about his youngest son again.

But this time, the long leg of the spider coiled around his neck. All the breath wheezed out of his lungs, and he couldn’t inhale. His fingers clawed at the carapace, but he couldn’t remove the powerful magic that slowly sank into his skin. Coughing, Alistair took a long time trying to fill his chest with air once more.

“Words are binding,” his father said. “You went to the same school as your brothers and yet you all forget that.”

The carriage rattled to the side as they hit a particularly large hole in the cobblestone streets. The rocking movement gave Alistair one more moment to look at the floor in horror before he had to school his expression into something placid. Something calm.

He straightened and looked his father in the eyes. Cold. With no expression on either of their faces. “What was that?”

“Just an assurance that you’ll do what you say you’ll do.” Balthazar had tricked him, and his father was quite pleased with himself. “My boys have always wanted to stray, but there is more to our family than you know. I need to know that there will be someone here to take care of our name and our home when I am gone.”

“I have two older brothers who are more interested in that fate than I am.”

“And they are not immortal. Besides, there are plans for them in place which will take more of their attention than the family home.”

A spike of anger through Alistair’s chest made him reckless. “Then you should have one of them marry so that their wife might take that role.”

His father scoffed. “As though I would ever entrust our family home to a woman. The magic inside that house must be fed, son. I’ll show you it someday. But for now, you will learn what magic really is. We’re buying the ingredients for my spells. Keep close to me while we’re here.”

The carriage rolled to a stop in the town square, where many shops were already setting up an outdoor space for buyers to peruse. It was market day, and Alistair had lost track of time.

He’d closed his hand on the handle of the door when his father grabbed onto his wrist and prevented him from leaving. “One more thing.”

What else could he endure? He already had a spell cast on him, and one whose rules he did not know. Alistair blinked and realized he hadn’t been this close to Balthazar in a while.

His father had gotten old. Older than he should be at his age. The wrinkles around his eyes made the orbs look sunken and pale. His skin had lost any illusion of luster and cracked around the edges of his lips. He looked as though he were ill.

Or dying.

And a man who looked his mortality in the face had every reason to go mad.

“You’re going to work at the school after you graduate,” his father said. “There’s a role that will be offered to you this year. You’re going to take it.”

“I have no interest in working at Sunspell or staying there for longer than my schooling. Besides, Cassius is already working there. And Lysander—“

His father released his hold on Alistair’s hand. “Your brothers have had too many complaints about them, and they will be dismissed from the school this year. They’ll be looking for work elsewhere. Cassius will become the head of the household under my supervision, as the plan always was. Lysander will go out on a ship to seek out new magic. And you will work at the Academy intending to become a professor.”

“Why?” Alistair couldn’t imagine why his father had planned all this to happen. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.

The eldest brother worked at the Academy, which was arguably the most esteemed position. The middle brother remained with the household in case something happened during the dangerous job at the Academy. And the youngest—the one who should have been forgotten about—was supposed to go off and adventure with nothing to his name.

His father leaned forward, and the gleam in his eye made Alistair’s heart stop in his chest. “Everyone has underestimated the use of your power, my boy. I know you’ve been enjoying that. You want to keep the fae world a secret from everyone else and safe from all those who might use it. Noble of you. But that has to stop.”

The kick of his heart in his chest made him gasp. “Why? Why would I do any of that when they don’t want to be found?”

“Because this family already has a god trapped in its basement. And when our enemies see the form of that god and know that our family cannot be beaten, then we will remain the strongest family in Wildecliff for centuries to come. Who better to control a god than the only person who can see him, even when he’s invisible?”

As though he hadn’t ended Alistair’s life as he knew it, Balthazar stepped out of the carriage and straightened the shoulders of his jacket. He walked away from Alistair without ever looking back. As though he knew his son couldn’t follow him.

If he did, Alistair feared he might start screaming.

He wasn’t safe here.

He wasn’t safe anywhere but in Thea’s arms, and now he feared that bringing her even close to this life might risk her very life.