Villiam and Gomorrah’s guards escort me to his caravan. I do my best to hold my head up, but I’m only moments away from tears. Venera is dead, and only now am I beginning to understand how. My family has always been inherently different than my other illusions. They’re more than a mirage, more than a trick. Theylive. And that’s because they’re connected to other living people.
They’re dead because of what I can do, because I don’t fully understand my own jynx-work. I never question what I don’t need answers to. I never stop to think. And my willful ignorance is the reason my family members have been murdered.
As we pass the Menagerie, even the vendors seem to understand something is wrong. Normally they would call out to us to admire their collection of lucky coins or sample a piece of kettle corn. But they don’t bother the guards, in their intimidating, all-black uniforms with swords at their hips. They don’t bother the proprietor and his daughter. Instead, they duck away and whisper words likemurderandfreak, and I squeeze Villiam’s hand for support.
“You and me alone, Sorina,” Villiam says firmly once we reach his caravan. Venera, my best friend, my beloved sister, is dead, and yet I feel as though I’m about to be scolded. I cross my arms and follow him inside.
We sit down, and Villiam takes my hands. “How much have you told von Raske?” he asks.
“He knows everything, because I trust him.”
“He’s an Up-Mountainer.”
“So? You don’t even know him,” I snap.
“I’m not angry with you,” he sighs. I hate when people sigh. “You’re only sixteen—this is exactly why I wanted to avoid you taking on responsibility. You’re too young. It’s not your fault that he has clouded your—”
I rip my hands out of his. “My judgment is fine.”
His frustrated expression makes it clear he disagrees. “I want you to tell me how you met and what you have been doing.”
I consider not saying anything at all, but I know that would be immature. Still, I didn’t come here to be scolded like I’m ten years old. My sister just died, and my father is supposed to have the answers, supposed to support me. Instead, he’s letting bias cloud his own judgment, letting his own prejudices distract him from what’s really important. At least Luca would listen to me. At least he wouldn’t treat me like a child.
But I talk. Not for Villiam’s sake but Luca’s. I don’t want the guards to cause him trouble. He’s there to help my family when I’m not. And I care about Luca too much to allow my father to hate him. I’ll make him understand what Luca means to me.
The story doesn’t take long. I’m careful to emphasize how Luca’s entire philosophy differed from Villiam’s, and that I was never certain which theory I believed more. I still don’t know which is right. Because I’m speaking at length, I also tell Villiam about my theory of charm-work and how my family could be linked to Up-Mountainers.
When I finish, Villiam no longer appears angry—only sorrowful. He places his hand on my shoulder, and his voice, once edged with annoyance, has become hesitant and careful.
“Dalimil has spoken of one thing: a spy within Gomorrah,” Villiam says.
My breath catches in my throat. After everything I’ve told him about how Luca has been helping me, can he really believe thatLucais the spy? It could be hundreds of different people!
“You say that Luca was determined to interview people with unusual types of jynx-work. Did it never occur to you thathepossesses such a rarity himself? A boy who cannot die. What if he can use those same abilities and reverse them? Your illusions should not be able to die. Have you never thought to question him?”
I shrug his hand off my shoulder and lean back into my seat, arms crossed. “He was with me when Venera was murdered.”
“But you were both with the princess when she was. Were you watching her when she died?”
“No—”
“Did youseeher throat being slit?”
“No, but—”
“What if Luca did it himself?”
“He didn’t!” My voice cracks, and I’m crying. This is too much to absorb in too short a time. I was with Luca. I wasn’t watching him in that moment, but I was with him. He didn’t... He wouldn’t...
“Don’t you find it suspicious that he spends his time prying into other people’s business, seeking out information? That he knew everything about you the first time you met?” He lifts my chin up so that I’m looking at him. “Luca must’ve been feeding this information to the Alliance’s leader.”
“No. That’s impossible... Luca would never...”
But now that the seed has been planted, it’s difficult to think of Luca without considering Villiam’s words.
Luca interviewed the rest of the suspects without me. Did he interview them at all? Or was it just a farce, a show, as our conversations with Narayan and Tuyet must have been?
He knew about our mission to find Dalimil. If he was a spy, wouldn’t he have tried to stop us? But Dalimil isn’t the Alliance’s leader. It wouldn’t have been worth giving up his position.
