Page 86 of Shades of Silver City

“My place.”

I rub the back of her hand with my thumb, hoping she doesn’t choose now to press me for answers.

Exhaustion is seeping into my bones, and with the added threat to Tasia, we need to be prepared. I don’t want to risk driving all the way to Sweetcreek to recharge. Not when I have my greenhouse close by.

Tasia’s gaze burns into me, but I glance out the window.

I hope this is the right choice.

“It’s where we grew up,” Godric says, coming to my rescue.

I exhale in relief.

“You’re brothers?” Tasia asks. “You don’t really look alike.”

Godric snorts. “No. Not in blood or name, anyway.” The leather of the steering wheel creaks as he squeezes it. “Brothers in bond.”

“Trauma bond,” I mutter.

“We both lost our families young,” Godric says. “In a way.”

His father is still alive but essentially lost to him.

Tasia doesn’t respond, but she grips my hand tighter. Since her parents were taken from her, she can relate. In a way, our losses connect us all. Did her roommates choose not to turn her in because they, too, know what it’s like to be born into greed and sin, to have to battle their way daily toward a better life? Sure, I glamoured them, but that was after they chose to talk with Tasia instead of calling the Scouts.

All of us from the Packing District understand what it’s like to simply survive rather than live.

Tasia pulls out her cell phone, using it as a light to illuminate her father’s journal. She flips through the pages carefully. A few minutes later, she gasps.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she mutters. “Or—I don’t know. I think it’s nothing.” She points at a page toward the end of the book. “Here. What do you think this means?”

I read the words.

The city’s heart beats to the rhythm of forgotten songs, but the symphony lies within. Remember, all that glitters is not silver. I shall lay bear the truth in the end.

“Was your dad a musician?” I ask, scanning the lines.

She shakes her head. “No. His mother was. He named me Fantasia after her. My name means ‘musical composition’ or something like that.” She sighs, snapping the journal shut. “I just can’t help but feel like there’s a message I’m missing. Songs… Symphony… He’s trying to tell me something.” Sighing in frustration, she turns to me. “Am I going crazy?”

“Of course not, Tasia.”

“It’s probably nothing,” she mutters, then snaps a photo of the page before stuffing the journal back into her bag.

A short time later, we pull into a poorly lit alley. Further down the alley is an entrance to the Underground. Normally I can see it from here, but with my magic running low, my eyesight has been reduced to that of a regular human. It’s not a comfortable feeling—I waited too long to recharge.

“You’re safe,” I tell Tasia again, just in case she needs to hear it. “I need you to stay with Godric. He’ll take you up to my ma’s old apartment.”

She whips her head around. “You’re leaving me?”

I grit my teeth. “I need to take care of something.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No,” I say firmly. “Go with Godric.”

“You can boss Reed and my roommates around all you want, but that shit won’t work on me, Archer Acciai.”

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