We crossed the nave, and Mother headed for an anonymous wooden door in a nook. A flight of stairs started leading up. I might have overestimated my strength because I was wheezing after two minutes of going up. The skin on my hands and feet burned, causing me to wince at each step.
“Do you want to rest?” Mother asked. She wasn’t even breathing hard. But then again, she’d been an occult agent for nearly twenty years. Her brows drew together as she regarded me with concern and so much love it warmed my chest.
“No, I want to see Rennie.”
She exhaled, shaking her head.
With new determination, I resumed going up. We arrived at a landing where a window offered a spectacular view of the Venetian Lagoon and the city’s canals. I could get used to a view like that, compared to the dark underground tunnels of the Royal Occult Bureau in Oxford. The long corridor lined with doors was a more familiar sight.
Gentlemen and ladies in blue velvet uniforms walked along the corridor, casting polite glances at us. I craned my neck to take a better look at their outfits. Blazes. They were so much better than the dull grey uniforms of the Royal Occult Bureau. Mother took a corridor on the right, then another on the left, then another... I lost count of the turns. Why were the occult bureaus so complicated? After a few minutes of walking, we entered an area with thick stone walls and marble floors.
“It’s here.” Mother stopped in front of a door reinforced with iron bars. She knocked. “Ernest, it’s me.”
The door swung inwards, and Father swept into view. His long beard and sagging eyes spoke of sleepless nights and worry that came from the heart.
“Darling.” He hugged me fiercely, muttering that he loved me. He shivered, a sob leaving him. “I was so worried.”
“Oh, Papa.” I inhaled the familiar scent of verbena and tobacco coming from his grey suit.
He patted my back before releasing me. “It shouldn’t have happened like that.” Tears glistened in his brown eyes.
Mother scoffed. “There is no need to become sentimental, darling. Monia is fine, as you can see.”
“Yes, yes.” He wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. “My little Monia.”
Not so little, but anyway. “It’s all right, Papa. I survived.” With a lot of pain and blood, but I survived. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Later, I would be more than happy to talk with them about my lost and recovered memories, but for now, I only wanted to see Rennie. “Where’s Rennie?”
“Everything for you, sweetheart. Follow me,” Father said, a hand on my shoulder.
Using a brass key, he opened yet another door. A breath was punched out of me when I saw Rennie. He was sitting on a wooden bench in a small room with bars on the windows. He was staring at the floor with his shoulders hunched and elbows propped on his knees. A plate of bread, cheese, and fresh fruits lay untouched next to him.
“Rennie.” The word came out strangled.
He bolted upright, revealing the cuts and bruises covering him. “Monia.”
I rushed towards him and wrapped my arms around him. Dry blood soaked his shirt. One eye was swollen shut, and a cut on his lip showed a thick crust.
“You’re all right,” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “Not seeing you was killing me.”
“What have they done to you?” Anger burned in my chest. Had my parents done that to him? I glanced at them. Mother pursed her lips in a silent challenge, and a flush reddened my father’s cheeks.
“It was Oliver.” Rennie grinned, releasing me and stepping back. “When I realised what he’d done, I told him I was going to denounce him to the bureau for misconduct. He wasn’t too happy.”
“Where’s Oliver?” The scoundrel.
He caressed my cheek gently. “I don’t know. I lost sight of him when we docked in Venice, and I was too worried about you to care about him. But your parents told me the bureau is taking care of him and considering his conduct.”
“I hope they give him the sack.” Holding his hand, I turned towards my parents. “Papa, you must release him. I’m all right now, and what happened wasn’t Rennie’s fault.”
“Can we talk to you for a moment?” Father held the door open and beckoned me to follow him.
“But—”
“Go, don’t worry,” Rennie said. He laced his fingers through mine for a moment, eyes filling with happiness, before releasing my hand.
An ache pounded in my chest as I stared at him. At that moment, watching him bruised and defeated because of me, I realised one thing: I’d do anything for him. I wanted to help him and take care of him as he took care of me. Images of him smiling and watching me flashed through my mind. I felt safe and loved when I was with him. How was it possible I’d considered him brusque and harsh? There was nothing harsh about him. Could he tell my feelings had changed? Could he sense my affection for him warming my whole body? Before I ran to him and kissed him, I lowered my gaze not to stare into his shining eyes.
Our fingers remained brushing against each other until the distance between us became too great. But his warmth lingered on my skin. And in my heart.
