He contemplated the question, but she knew he wouldn’t find any answers. She couldn’t find any answers, and it was herjob.At last, he sighed, giving up. “Have you chosen a costume yet?”
Lux lifted her eyes from the first page of the journal, taken aback at the change. “Yes. Have you?”
He grinned, shadows giving way to reveal that rarely seen gold shattering the copper of his eyes. The flutter in her stomach returned, that traitorous thing. “I’ve an idea.”
“Care to share?”
“Not at all.”
Lux bit her cheek. If he turned out dressed as a barrow troll or a marsh creature, she’d be forced to abandon him. She knew her opinion had next to no weight, however, so with a final swallow, she stood.
“Thank you for the tea. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Clutching the journal to her chest, she slipped from the chair.
Shaw remained where he was. “Be careful with that.” Lux waved a dismissive hand, her back already to him as she strode down the hall. “Necromancer! No one can find it.”
“Yes, Prowler. I will guard it with my life!”
She allowed herself one last reprieve before the paintings, one last imagining, regardless of the hurt, before she opened the door and closed it tight. Against all the wishes that could never be.
Chapter fourteen
“What an interesting choice,Lucena.”
Riselda eyed the feathered wings with no small amount of uncertainty. For the second time, she reached out a hand to stroke the black tips. Lux only smiled.
It was perfect. Exactly as she’d pictured.
She studied her kohl-lined eyes and red lips, the rest of her face hidden beneath a feathered, black mask. Her hair would have become hopelessly entangled within her wings if she had left it long—instead she’d coiled and pinned it at her nape. Several tendrils brushed along her temple, trailing down behind the mask, but she didn’t try to contain them again.
She stepped away from the mirror.
“Have you thought on a gift for the mayor?”
Lux wondered at the near-pained expression on her aunt’s face. Yes. She had thought on a gift for some time. She’d been thinking on it ever since she’d read the journal cover to cover,stashing it deep within her wardrobe, resting alongside the stolen lifeblood.
The mayor’s obsession with immortality, or as near as one could get, seemed to have begun long ago. Fifty years old, and reaching an age when one realizes life does, in fact, come to an end, his research dug into the unnatural.
Lifeblood, in particular.
Not much was known about it then, perhaps only slightly less than what was known currently, but that didn’t stop the man from hauling in every physician, psychic and healer that could potentially offer him answers. None impressed him, according to the journal’s notations. None, save for a young girl. A girl with a strong brilliance.
Sixty years old now and gravely ill, the girl brought him back from the brink. And from that night forward, she never left the mansion. Remaining at his side, he consulted her on all matters. Matters that a young girl couldn’t possibly understand.
His family grew jealous. His wife attempted to have her killed. The wife died instead.
And the mayor appeared to stop aging. One by one, his family did as well. His favorite cousin, a niece, an uncle. But as for the young girl, she grew. Into a woman, bound and talented, with churning shadows in her eyes.
Shaw’s great-great-grandfather dated his entries until his death, which ended in speculation rather than significant findings. Lux had glanced over them briefly, mind sifting through the information she’d learned. He had been eighty-six years old. The mayor should have been an ancient man—one hundred and one. He was not.
Lux didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand how the oldest of Ghadra were not concerned that their mayor looked as fresh as he ever did while they all aged and died. She’d become adeptat listening in to conversation not meant for her ears, and still, she’d not heard a whisper.
Looking up to Riselda now, her aunt smiled, patting a masked cheek. “I’m sure you’ll think of somethingworth his time.”
“You’re not coming then?” Lux surveyed Riselda’s plain dress, dirt at its hem. She hadn’t dressed in much more for several days now.
Riselda followed her gaze, a serene smile lighting her mouth as she studied her soiled skirt. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
Her aunt was a puzzle Lux couldn’t solve, growing more difficult with each passing day. So she gave up trying and attempted to appreciate having someone who cared for her well-being at her side instead. Lux forced a smile.
