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Nick stared down at this strange reckless girl lying unconscious on the infirmary bed. Even asleep her features were strained, as if what pained her penetrated through all the layers of consciousness to touch something deeper, something less easily forgotten than hellhound saliva.
It was the way Sel looked when he slept.
Who was she?
He reviewed, yet again, what he knew.
Briana Irene Matthews. Bree, for short. 16. EC first year. Smart. Enrolled with a friend, Alice, but evasive about why. Went to the Enu Quarry party, but didn't jump. Wound up in a squad car anyway. Pushy. Bullheaded. And particularly prickly about his disrespect for his father. Able to see mage flame and physically capable—more than capable, if he was honest, fast and agile as most of the unawakened Legendborn—but untrained. Recklessly, foolishly brave, but not trying to impress anyone. Willing to throw her life away for a boy sheʼd just met.
She groaned in her sleep and shifted, but then fell still again.
It wasnʼt enough to be certain of anything, but what he did know started to paint a picture. She had the Sight, so she was Oathed. Her protectiveness of him despite the obvious mismatch in their skill, plus her prickliness for his insubordination toward his father, both said that she knew who they were, knew about him being the Scion of Arthur. He didn't get any sense of her being a climber though, and untrained? Even the lowest rank Page families trained their kids from an early age, so hers had to be a very recent addition to the vassal networks.
In other words: expendable.
All at once her eyes snapped open wide, and she lurched forward trying to sit.
“Youʼre okay,” Nick soothed, gently pressing her shoulder back down, but she refused to be still, rolling over on one side instead and freeing a gauze-wrapped arm. Her eyes widened further at the gauze, and she jerked back her shoulder trying to free the other arm.
“Careful,” Nick cautioned, folding back the bed sheet to reveal it for her. “You were injured.”
“Where am I?” The words cracked, barely making it out of her dry throat.
“I brought you to our healer.” Nick found the glass of water William had left on the bedside table, and brought it close, angling the straw where Bree could reach it. Wariness passed through her eyes, but she leaned forward and accepted it, drinking greedily. She didnʼt relax, however. Her eyes darted quickly around the room, but not randomly. This wasnʼt panic; this was cataloging.
Smart and observant. And scared. She was expendable, and she knew it.
When she finished and leaned back, Nick set down the glass and then stepped away to the window seat to sit slowly. Wariness like that? It didnʼt come from nowhere, and it wouldnʼt leave easily. She needed space, and she needed to have him not towering above her. She needed him at eye level. “What do you remember?”
She frowned, eyes darting side to side as she searched her memories. Then they stilled, going wide and locking onto his. “You killed it.”
He nodded. “I killed it.”
The bell tower chimed in the background.
“You saved me.”
He held her gaze, waiting. Letting her realizations come at their own pace.
“Youʼre Legendborn.”
He inclined his head. “Yep. You must be a new Page? William said he didnʼt recognize you.”
She shook her head, but there was no pinch to her brows when she did it. No subtle twitches of muscle that might hint toward a squint suppressed. No intensity at all. This look was more… distant? Lost. She wasnʼt denying that she was a Page. She was denying that she even knew what a Page was.
“But you saw the hellhound—” His shock got the better of him and he froze. How could she have the Sight and not know what a Page was?
She searched his face as intensely as he searched hers. Was she lying? If so, she was very good. His father had made sure that part of his training included lie spotting. Reading people. It was the only way to survive the world of Regents and Viceroys.
The bell tower's tolling fell silent, amplifying the unease in the room.
His eyes narrowed. She had to know what a Page was. She had to. But if she didnʼt… “If you know Iʼm Legendborn, then you must know youʼre speaking within the Code. You can answer me freely. How do you know that word?”
She chewed her bottom lip, weighing him. “What will you do to me if I answer that question?”
Shock rippled through him again, and again it happened before he could hide it. “Do to you?”
She nodded. “Threaten me? Break something Iʼd rather keep in one piece? Turn me over to the cops?”
The squad car sheʼd wound up in. What had happened at the quarry? And who exactly did she think she was expendable to? Heʼd assumed the Order in general, but this was starting to feel too specific. Targeted.
“Iʼm not going to do any of those things,” he said carefully, making sure every ounce of him felt the truth in these words so that she could see it. “Why would I bring you here to our healer if I wanted to injure you? If I wanted you to end up with the police, why didnʼt I drop you off in front of a hospital?”
“Maybe you still plan to dump me at a hospital,” she shot back, but something had changed in her face. Just a fraction. The tiniest edge lost from her tension. “Maybe the police are on the way.”
He put on an amused smile, practiced but still genuine. “Bree, short for Briana. Pushy and stubborn. She doesnʼt accept what she sees with her own eyes, wonʼt accept what she hears with her own ears.” He considered. She had to know what a Page was, no matter how convincing that small lie looked. And she had been cagey about why she enrolled. So what did that say about why she was really here? He grinned wider. “Or at least, thatʼs what sheʼd like me to believe. Is ‘Bree’ even your real name?”
She bristled and for a moment he thought he had her, but then she threw another curveball, demanding, “What about my memory? You could still erase that.”
He was too shocked to hide it. Yet again. “No. I couldnʼt.”
“Not a Merlin?” She nearly sneered the word.
“You know Iʼm not.” Something in that sneer gave him pause. Here again were the simplest facts that she had to have known, but with ignorance delivered so convincingly that sheʼd have to be a master lie-crafter to pull off the performance. If she was so good at lying though—at the hard parts of lying—then why chose such a ridiculous tack? Why choose these lies? It made no sense.
For now, he went with it, watching for clues as to what she was after. “All right, I get it. You know about Merlins and their mesmers, so youʼre Oathed, but youʼre not a Page from our chapter.” As soon as he said it, a realization started taking shape. Maybe these lies werenʼt meant to convince. Maybe sheʼd chosen them because of exactly how ridiculous they were. “Who sent you, then? Was it Western? You here to evaluate me?”
Her mouth opened, then closed, eyes calculating. After a moment, she jut out her chin and her eyes flashed. “I know Legendborn love to hunt isels like the one that I helped you find tonight.”
It was as much as a confirmation. His own anger flared in response, and he pushed up from the window seat. If she wanted to threaten him, heʼd take it standing. “Oh, you want to test me, is that it? Fine. First, that wasnʼt just any isel. That was a ci uffern, a hellhound. Lowest intelligence of the Lesser demons, no speech capabilities, but the most ferocious next to the foxes. Partial-corp, so it was still invisible to Onceborns, but able to injure living flesh. Another few aether infusions and it wouldʼve been as solid as you and me. And second…”
He paused to run a hand through his hair. Even after denouncing his title, he still had to deal with this? Were the games just going to get more extreme the more he refused to participate?
“Second, you didnʼt help me find it, Bree. You ran straight toward it. You baited a hellhound, unarmed and untrained, and almost lost both arms for your trouble. Whoever ordered this little recon mission sent you here with more ignorance than Iʼve witnessed in a Page in years. Iʼve changed my mind. If this is a game, Iʼm not playing anymore. Answers. Now.”
But when he stopped pacing to look at her, her face was open shock. Eyes wide. Mouth half open. All the exact right muscles tensed and slacked. Even her chest rose and fell quickly from breaths that were getting away from her. “I… I didnʼt know they were… demons. I—”
“Christ.” No one was that good, were they? “Youʼre either incredibly stubborn and committed to this ruse or youʼre so brand-new they rushed you out here right after your damn Oath.”
He ran a hand through his hair again. Could that really be it? Oathed but not educated? Trained in only the specific things some asshole thought were useful for… whatever it was she was here to sus out? “Yeah, theyʼre demons. This is basic information. Kiddie stuff.”
The life drained from her face, wide eyes going distant and glassy. “Like in the Bible?”
No one was that good. No one. Which meant someone had put her up to this entirely unprepared and she really was scared half to death.
Expendable indeed, to be tossed into the field without even knowing that isels were demons.
His heart went out to her. Heʼd almost forgotten how terrifying his first demon fight had been, and that had been after years of study and combat training. What would it have been like to go in clueless? No one deserved that, regardless of rank.
He sighed and walked closer, but as he reached for her, she flinched back.
He froze, not wanting to scare her any more than he already had. God. It wasnʼt just the demon or whoever had sent her or whatever had happened at the quarry. She thought he was going to hurt her.
He made his voice as calm as he could. “Not gonna go through the trouble to heal you and then turn around and hurt you again.”
She watched him carefully, but after a moment she nodded. He moved slowly, taking her hand and beginning to gently unwind the gauze. “Half-educated Page it is… I canʼt believe the jerk who put you up to this without even teaching you the fundamentals. Honestly, you should tell me who they are—they need to be reported for this kind of negligence.”
He waited a beat, but she only stared back blankly. She was either so afraid of whoever had put her up to this that she couldnʼt consider betraying them, or… He scratched the back of his head. Or theyʼd mesmered her memory of who that was as a precaution.
Either way, pushing her wouldnʼt help, but one thing was certain: he couldnʼt let her leave here without knowing the basics.
And so he told her. As he unwrapped her arms, he explained what demons were and where they came from. Why they came. Why the Legendborn fought them. He described the hellhound she had seen and both what its saliva could do and what that saliva had already done to her arms.
She listened attentively throughout, eyes wide and sober and surprisingly sharp. That was whole-body listening, with eye darts to connect related facts at all the right times. Whatever asshole had considered her expendable had been wasting a pretty good Page.
It wasnʼt until Nick explained what to expect from Williamʼs healing that Bree found her voice. Staring down at the shiny pink streaks splashing her warm brown skin, she breathed, “How is that possible?”
This? This was what was too much for her? A flicker of doubt crossed Nickʼs mind. How the hell did someone as smart as Briana Matthews get though the Oath without at least theoretically understanding Legendborn power. It was part of the damned words themselves. “Weʼre really doing this?”
“Yes,” she whispered, voice desperate. “Please.”
He scoffed. “This type of ignorance is how Pages get hurt or killed.” But then his heart softened again. Christ. Regardless of who put her up to this, or why, she was still the one who was here. She was still the one facing her first demon and fighting her way through that terror to present this mostly collected front, to listen and to learn instead of panicking. Brave. Goddamned nerves of steel, really.
Someone had wasted not just a good Page here, but a potentially incredible one.
So of course he explained the aether. The Legendborn powers. How could he not? When he finished, she was subdued. Withdrawn.
“Thanks,” she finally murmured, “for helping me. And thank William.”
Her face was sincere. Grateful. Humbled and willing to let that be seen. All while her hands were still shaking. An incredible Page indeed. “Iʼll let him know. But if youʼre looking for a thank-you gift, Iʼm a fan of honesty.”
Her brow furrowed, but in the right ways. Whatever words she was putting together, she didnʼt intend to lie. “I just wanted to know what I saw. What Iʼm seeing.” Pain flashed through her features and was gone again, her eyes going flat and shuttered. “Last night at the Eno Quarry—”
The quarry again. Nickʼs eyes narrowed. What had happened there? Or who?
“—I saw something. Flickering light in the shape of a flying… thing. Sel and Tor were there.”
Sel and Tor. Nickʼs mouth hardened. The dream team of superiority complexes.
“Sel did something to me and these guys to make us forget and walk away. His mesmer, I guess? But after a minute, it didnʼt work anymore. I hid. Then Sel and Tor—”
Nickʼs hand rose before he realized it, cutting her off. “Wait. Say that again.”
“Sel and Tor—”
He waved his hand impatiently. “No, no, before that.”
“Sel did something to make me leave and forget, but after a minute it didnʼt work on me?”
“Yeah, that part.” Maybe it was the specific topic that got to him, but he couldnʼt let one more too-obvious lie go. “Not possible, Pageling. Mesmered memories donʼt come back. Believe me, Iʼd know.”
He had studied and studied that topic. For years. And had been taunted about it every step of the way by Sel. Always reminding him that—
“Well, sorry.” She cut off his thought, reflecting his own condescension back at him. “But thatʼs what happened, Legendborn.”
He froze. That certainty. He searched her features for any sign of the lie it had to be. Her brows. The fine muscles of her face. The set of her jaw. Her hands still shaking in her lap.
Every hair on Nickʼs body stood on end. “Youʼre—youʼre serious, arenʼt you? About everything. You arenʼt a Northern or Western spy.”
“No.”
“But if you can break Selʼs mesmer, then heʼd…”
All those years of taunts.
Mesmers werenʼt meant to be broken, Nicholas. Sel had meant it as a kindness, a way of releasing Nick from his futile quest to heal his mother. If someone did manage to break a mesmer, do you realize how dangerous they would be? The Regents could never let such a power roam free. They would hunt down and kill anyone with that kind of power, as well as anyone who knew about it.
Sel had never seen the way those words cut, no matter how many times theyʼd had the conversation. Heʼd been so caught up in the matter-of-fact, nature-of-the-universe truth of them that he couldnʼt see through to the person underneath. Sel never saw through to the person underneath a truth.
Even if you find someone with such a power and manage to get your mother back, Sel had said, how long do you think it would last? The Regents have eyes and ears everywhere. They would kill the person with that power. Then they would kill your mother for being proof of that power existing. And then they would kill you for having found it and participating in its use.
That last bit was the only part where any emotion had slipped into Selʼs face or voice. None of the rest. Not one bit. Deaths didnʼt matter as long as they werenʼt Nickʼs death.
“The heʼd what?” Bree demanded, but Nick barely heard her. If she was telling the truth, he needed to get her out of here now. Before—
“WHERE IS HE?”
They both jumped as Selʼs voice boomed down the hallway, and every muscle in Nickʼs body went tense. Too late. “Shit.”
A door slammed, followed by hurried footsteps. Someone intercepting.
“Sel, wait—” William.
Nickʼs eyes darted between Bree and the door, mind racing. He had reason to be in contact with her. The mentorship. Nothing heʼd done up until now would look suspicious on its own. “Listen to me. I assumed you were one of us at first, but if youʼre telling me the truth right now and youʼre not, then no matter what happens when he comes in here, do not let Sel know his mesmer failed. Heʼs going to try again, and you need to let him. You understand me?”
A second slam, closer this time.
“Sel, wha—”
“I need you to trust me,” Nick hissed, but Breeʼs wide eyes were fixed on the door, terror written in every line of her face. She hadnʼt just seen Sel at the quarry. Something more had happened, but he didnʼt have time to wonder what. He shook Breeʼs shoulder. “Do you understand?”
“Yes!”
“Stay here!” He jogged to the door and spared only one breath to center himself before heading out to face Sel.
The moment he stepped into the hallway, Selʼs eyes locked onto him, their bright gold flashing. “The prodigal son returns. And with such flare. Did you even kill it, Davis?”
Davis. Not Nicholas.
A jab at whether or not any of his training had held during his time away.
“Yes, I killed it. You want to inspect the blood on my blade?”
Sel caught the barb, and his features sharpened. This was not a new dance. Sel had always acted like it was his personal responsibility to train Nick, despite that heʼd only ever been a sparring partner—a very spiteful sparring partner—and despite all the trainers that came before and after him. Despite what that training had done to Nickʼs family long before Sel came around.
Sel didnʼt waste a moment. “Perhaps if you werenʼt so busy playing Onceborn, leaving us to do the dirty work, youʼd know that I should have been called immediately to find its Gate and close it. Or do you want more hellhounds coming through from the other side?”
That one stung. As if hating the Order meant he didnʼt care about innocent lives. As if Sel somehow cared more about innocents than he did. Nickʼs jaw clenched, and he delivered his next words like knives. “Do you want me to pause mid-battle to send a text? What are the emojis for a hellhound? Fire, then dog?”
It was a low blow, picking at an innocent childhood mistake like that. Sel had never found interacting with people as easy as Nick had, and Nick had not always been kind about that skill gap. Right now, he didnʼt care.
Sel surged forward, twisting Nickʼs shirt in his fist before William could push between them. “This is not helpful! Sel, you closed the Gate. Nick destroyed the hound. Thatʼs all that matters.”
Sel let William move him back, but snarled. “That is not all that matters, William. This is the fifth attack in a week. They are escalating. And getting stronger. Just last night I tracked a near-corporeal isel miles from the nearest Gate. It is my job to protect this chapter. Just as it is my job to clean up your mess tonight.” A dark gleam passed across Selʼs eyes. Knowing. He gave Nick just enough time to see what was coming and to regret the exchange that led here before continuing. “William says Iʼm needed here?”
“Sheʼs a human being, Sel.” Nick couldnʼt keep the weariness out of his voice.
“Sheʼs Onceborn. How did she even get wounded?”
“It was partial-corp. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“A partial-corp demon, capable of hunting—and harming—human flesh. Wonderful. And then you brought her here. Lovely.”
“Would you rather I left her on the ground, blacked out from pain?”
“Of course not. Her injuries would raise far too many questions.”
“Thatʼs your only concern, isnʼt it? The Code of Secrecy. Not that an innocent was injured!”
“The Line is Law, Nicholas.” Selʼs voice was low, carrying every bit of accusation he could muster. “Our Oaths come first!”
“Gentlemen!” William stepped between them fully. “Speaking of the Code, may I remind you both that these walls are not soundproofed. The more you argue outside this door, the more Sel will need to erase.”
Sel looked away as if bored, pushing past them both to reach for the door handle. “Thank you, William, for that reminder.”
No sooner was he through the door, however, than his voice rose in surprise. “You.”
“Stay away from me.” Breeʼs voice was less scared than it was angry, and when Sel spoke again it was with a curiosity that Nick had learned the hard way to be wary of.
“Hm. Two nights in a row, youʼve been in the way.”
This was where things got tricky. Nick would have liked to take another steadying breath before putting on his game face, but he knew Sel would hear it. Instead, he pushed through the door and around Sel without a second thought. “You know her?”
“Weʼve met. But she doesnʼt remember that.” A brief flicker crossed Selʼs face, telling Nick all he needed to know. Something had happened at the quarry, and it had gone both ways. This could easily escalate.
Focus on that. On the escalation, Nick coached himself, cutting out any thoughts of the quarry and discarding them. Lying well meant putting up walls in your mind. Compartmentalizing. You needed to access only what was important to share, and cut yourself off from the rest, defining the boundaries of the ring before sparring in it.
That was doubly important when lying to Merlins, and even more so with Sel. Stop the escalation. This is about protecting the Onceborn.
Sel stepped forward but Nick moved to block him with a hand on his chest. Selʼs eyes dropped to examine that hand, a feral grin twisting his mouth. “There may come a day when you can stop me, but you and I both know itʼs not today.”
Nick stared Sel down, letting every bit of his fury over the years bubble up to the surface now. Sel was arrogant. Needlessly cruel. Casually superior and unafraid to rub it in.
He let other angers bubble up too. Anger at the Merlin who had taken his mother. Anger at the idea of Merlins. At the Order itself.
Sel took the bait, latching onto the familiar energy. His grin deepened, and his body stilled save for his fingers which twitched at his sides.
Then, after letting that rage bubble up, Nick shuttered it. Forced it back down. His hand fell away, and he didnʼt have to fake his disgust at Sel being right. He couldnʼt stop this.
Sel stepped smoothly past, but not before Nick caught his disappointment. Sel wouldnʼt have minded extra memories needing to be erased if it meant a chance to land a physical blow instead of only verbal ones. But Nick wouldnʼt give him that. Hadnʼt given him that in years.
“You donʼt have to watch,” Sel tossed back, and even after everything that had just happened, the fleeting concern in his tone was genuine.
Nick didnʼt let himself hear it. He couldnʼt, not right now, or he might give them both away. Instead, he found Breeʼs eyes over Selʼs shoulder and willed her to remember, willed her to be only the simple Onceborn.
Sel strode forward, angling to block their line of sight so that Bree would have no choice but to look at him. To look into his eyes.
“I donʼt believe in coincidences,” Sel said. “Perhaps I should be concerned to meet you two days in a row, but no Shadowborn would have made herself as vulnerable as you have tonight, which means you must simply be… unlucky. You are Unanedig. Onceborn.”
Nick couldnʼt see her, but he could hear the sneer in Selʼs tone. He could see the set of Selʼs shoulders. That damned superiority, as if anyone outside the Order was only partly human. And he hadnʼt known Bree long, but he already knew where that posture would send her.
“Your body isnʼt accustomed to aether,” Sel continued, his tone soft as if this was somehow compassion. “Thatʼs why youʼre dizzy.”
“Screw you.” Her voice dripped with even more venom than Selʼs had earlier.
“Sit,” he growled back, but Bree didnʼt sit. Nick could see that much, and the fact that she resisted the initial command made Nickʼs heart stutter.
Let him do this, he pleaded silently.
Sel took another step forward, and Bree sank to the floor, back against the wall. Now that Nick could see her again, he could see the wild terror in her face, equal parts fear and cornered badger. He stepped forward before he could stop himself.
“Minimal intervention directive. Just the last couple hours.”
“Orders, Nicholas? As if I am not bound by the same laws you so carelessly neglect?”
Breeʼs eyes found Nickʼs this time, and he gave her a nod, willing her to know that heʼd keep her safe no matter what Sel did now.
“Your name?” Sel purred.
“Her name is Briana,” Nick answered quickly, giving no room for her temper to resurface. And good thing too. Her features warred, balanced on a knifeʼs edge between terror and outrage. Sel saw it too.
“I must admit, Briana, Iʼm curious. What twist of the universe has set you in my path again?” he asked, his voice quiet, wistful. “Alas, some mysteries must remain forever unsolved.”
She flinched as Sel reached for her, and something hot coiled behind Nickʼs heart, something that he dared not examine. Not here. Not now.
Then her eyes went distant and unfocused. Her lids grew heavy, and she slumped.
Nick was there in an instant, catching her before she could fall all the way to the floor. Sel hadnʼt even tried to stop her from tumbling.
“You donʼt have to be cruel about it,” Nick bit out before he could think better of it.
Sel didnʼt respond to the jab. He merely rose to his feet with a bored expression. “Is that you offering to put her back where you found her? Or should I?”
By way of answer, Nick pulled her still form into his arms.
Sel scoffed. “No matter how much you hate us, you will never be one of them.”
“And no matter how important you think we are,” Nick bit back, “we are not more important than them. We serve them.”
“Gentlemen,” William interjected, but before he could say anything else, Sel had spun on his heel and was gone.
“Do you need any help?” William asked, turning to Nick, but Nick shook his head.
“I know where her dorm is. Iʼll make sure she gets home safe.”
William raised an eyebrow, but didnʼt press the matter. He merely stepped aside and watched as Nick carried Breeʼs limp form from the infirmary.