Page 34 of A Whisper in the Walls

Nevelyn made no reply to that. She was not prepared to philosophize with a stranger. They rounded another landing, and another. All in silence. Garth broke it with an echoing laugh.

“Gods, you’re the quietest seamstress we’ve ever had.”

She nodded. “I like the quiet.”

“Me too.”

That surprised her. He’d barely stopped talking since being woken from a dead sleep by a metal projectile. A final turn brought them to the base of the stairs. She was forced to turn and accept the clothes back from him. Garth offered her a smile when their hands brushed again.

“Well, that was a better start to the day than I’d imagined for myself.”

Her cheeks flushed. She adjusted the weight of the clothes.

“Have a good morning,” she said. “It might help if you fixed the dumbwaiter.”

He eyed the contraption. “Right. I will. But I’m glad it was broken. For today.”

Nevelyn started moving before he could turn back and study her again. Missing button. A stain on her collar. Poorly matched clothes. She felt if she stood there for too long, Garth might see those things too. Not that it mattered. She didn’t care what he thought in the first place. She walked across the dark backstage area. Garth didn’t follow, though she could feel him watching her depart.

She risked a quick glance over one shoulder when she reached the distant curtains. Garth had turned away. She smiled, though. He was fussing over the dumbwaiter. Trying to fix it.

Down in the dark beneath the stage, Nevelyn found herself smiling.

17 REN MONROE

Ren began to imagine a normal life.

One in which she did not exist in the shadow of House Brood and all their sins. The weeks passed with Ren focused on whatever spells interested her most. Seminar Shiverian pushed her harder than any teacher ever had. The head researcher was demanding but fair. She never held them to a standard that she was unwilling to meet herself. No matter how early Ren showed up, Seminar was already there, tinkering with one of her ongoing projects.

Ren also got on well with her colleagues. Ellison Proctor stopped by to charm her once or twice a day. He was delightfully shallow. He cared nothing for the magical conversations happening around the room and had accepted this role purely for its simplicity. As far as she could tell, he was tasked with performing the same repeating spell over and over again.

The siblings—Maryan and Flynn—were equally fascinating to Ren. Both of them turned out to be devilishly smart. Top of their class at Balmerick, in the year just behind her. At first, Ren had been confused about why they were both allowed to research there. If this was meant to be an equal distribution amongst the great houses, why would the Winters family be gifted two positions? It turned out they were not twins, but half-siblings born less than a week apart. One a proper-born child of the Winters family and the other a bastard born to one of the Graylantian princesses. They’d made it all the way to life at Balmerick before discovering the other one existed, and after that they’d been thick as thieves, with their father’s infidelity as the binding between them.

The only person Ren struggled with was Pecking. He’d been recruited from House Shiverian by Seminar herself, because he possessed a rare gift. He was fully synesthetic. He could literally see magic in the air. While Ren could sense formations and patterns, she had no idea what it would be like to constantly watch magic manifest around them—especially in a city so full of magic that it was on the verge of bursting at the seams. This talent gave Pecking an advantage few possessed, though Ren had not been able to pick his brain on the subject. He’d refused to speak more than two words to her since the initial embarrassment.

Ren enjoyed all of it. A rival, colleagues, the nature of her work. There were a few times when she slipped fully into that version of herself. Someone who had no revenge to carry out. No bond with a boy in a distant castle. She was just a girl who wanted to explore the world of magic and was beginning a brilliant career as a spellmaker. It was always Theo who unintentionally pulled her back. She would feel him across their bond, and then she’d be imagining his tapered jaw and his narrow eyes and his golden hair. With that glimpse of him came all the truths she could not simply wish away.

One evening, Ren returned home from work. She was primarily living in Theo’s abandoned apartment in the Heights. It was a sort of guilty pleasure to enjoy the comforts she’d once counted as sins against the Broods: silk sheets, first editions, a balcony with a view.

Two steps inside and Ren felt it. That subtle trace of magic in the air. She paused on the threshold, still half in shadow, trying to determine the source. Only in complete silence did she hear the distant, trickling sound of music.

Ren slid her horseshoe wand from her belt and cursed the fact that she’d sent Vega elsewhere in the city. She carefully slipped out of the buckles of her shoes, then silently padded forward into the unlit house. The sound of the music grew louder. Ren’s eyes traced every corner and shadow. The noise was coming from the balcony. She saw the door was cracked open.

Landwin Brood sat outside in the dying light.

He was playing a seventeen-string. She had no idea when he’d had it delivered, but she knew it had not been there that morning. The sprawling instrument normally required three players—one at the neck, one at the legs, and one at the arms. Landwin was running a razor-thin bow across the neck. Ren was not musical, but she knew that was the most delicate of the three. Without the others, it sounded high and ethereal, almost painful to listen to.

He did not move or look up as she walked halfway across the spacious balcony. She felt certain that he’d sensed her presence. Likely he’d only begun playing when she opened the front door. That long-forming anger started to burn in her chest again. Here was the person she’d spent half of her life plotting against. And he was alone.

Ren felt an irrational urge to cast a spell. How many lethal combinations had she rehearsed over the years? But she knew he would never expose himself so easily. She sensed spellwork layered over his clothing. An invisible suit of armor. Knowing she could not strike now—that she needed him weakened and vulnerable—only fired her anger even more. And as it roared in her chest, there was an answer across her bond. It was like the bridge spell she’d performed out in the Dires to help their group across the river. When the magic finally touched down on the other shoreline and solidified. She could not explain the feeling in words, but she knew in that moment, she and Theo were more bound to each other than normal.

She set her mental hands on that spot and pulled.

The answer was instantaneous. She could not see him, but the air around her felt thick with his presence. Ren knew this was a rare opportunity. Theo was watching. A witness to this moment, and Landwin Brood had no idea his son could hear him. She strained to maintain the balance of the magic that kept Theo with her as Landwin finished the last note of his song. A single slash across the instrument’s stringed throat. The sound trembled and died. Only then did he look up.

“Ren Monroe. You’ve been busy.”

She kept her breathing steady. Her expression unreadable. What did he suspect? Had he learned about her visit to Ravinia? She stood there in silence, waiting for him to speak.

---