Chapter 191: Secrets Kept

Chapter 191: Secrets Kept

Sebastien

Month 4 Day 17, Saturday 8:25 a.m.

Sebastiens carriage driver offered her a newspapera way to increase his tips, no doubt. It was the Daily Sun, and of course it was filled with drivel, as usual. After recent experience Sebastien would never trust what this paper wrote about anything. There was nothing new within, merely more gossip and speculation about her. They had reached the point of trying to wring water from a dry rag.

They were digging into Ennis Naughts past again, and under the journalists pen the man seemed awful enough that even Sebastien had to admit that as lacking a father as he might have been, he was not that heinous.

She tossed the paper aside halfway through the article and leaned her head back against the padded seat. Her muscles were so tense that her skull ached with every beat of her heart. Her conversation with Oliver flashed into her mind, and she swallowed hard, then rapped on the ceiling of the carriage and called out a new destination.

Instead of back to the University, the driver took Sebastien to a costume and cosmetics shop. There, she used some of the actual coin left to her name to buy two nice wigs, a few more pairs of colored contact lenses, and a book on stage makeup for actors, complete with illustrations and a cosmetics kit. After some deliberation, she also picked up a costume that was touted as a female pirates outfit. Really it was just tight leather pants and a puffy linen shirt, a half-corset that would cinch in her waist while leaving her chest free, and a lot of cheap costume jewelry along with a stencil to draw on some fake tattoos. And a fake, stuffed parrot.

The secret compartment in her satchel was stuffed to the brim now that it had to hold two small chests, and so the main, visible section of her satchel bulged with her purchases.

From there, she took another carriage to a housing agency, gave them a list of requirements, and scheduled a tour day for the coming weekend. Finding long-term accommodations of her own would be more expensive through the agency because of their fee, but she wanted to separate this task from the people who might otherwise be able to help her. And on her own, she simply didnt have the time or connections to handle it easily.

By then, it was already approaching noon, and Sebastien made a third venture, back to the novelty shop shed gotten the light-crystal coasters at. This time, she found them in a half-empty box marked sale. After a moment of hesitation, she decided to buy them all, lest she find she needed more once the stock had already sold out. Even if she didnt need a couple dozen thirteen-pointed-star disks, these would be good objects to practice her beacon-imprinting once she had completed the guiding light ritual.

Finally, she picked up two sets of the embarrassingly pink journals that Ana and Nat used to communicate with each other. They were stupidly expensive despite being relatively low-powered and having all of the standard problems of sympathetic connections.

Damien had been right. She needed a way to communicate with others more easily, especially now that she wouldnt be going to Dryden Manor and simply talking to Oliver when she needed anything. She would have preferred a distagram to the journals, but even though she could afford one, technically, she didnt have the necessary connections to buy one.

When her fingers started to tremble and unbidden thoughts of the beamshell tincture prickled up, she forced herself to stop and eat the lunch Sharon had packed for her despite the sick feeling in her belly that was smothering any sensations of hunger. The meal helped settle her, and she even splurged for a cup of coffee that was fifty percent cream and zero percent magic.

A random woman came up and tried to start a conversation with Sebastien about some party that was she was organizing in a nearby park, until it became awkward enough that the woman took the hint and left.

Sebastien finished off the last of her coffee and laid down a few coins on the table. As she rose to leave, her eyes caught on the coin. Was that woman trying to get me to give her money? she realized suddenly.

She looked down at herself, remembering how much her clothes had cost. It did somewhat make sense why people would assume she was the kind of person who would toss a few gold to charity on a whim. Even if these clothes are from last season. she thought with a wry smile.

From there, Sebastien rented a room with a sink and a mirror, transformed into Siobhan, and spent the next three hours struggling with her disguise. She wore the shorter of the two wigs, a short, ragged bob. It was high quality and reminded her of an autumn forest, or perhaps an earthy sunset. Once she figured out how to get all of her own hair pinned flat to her head and out of the way, wearing the wig was the easy part.

After that, she flipped through the book on stage makeup and, with a half-dozen failed attempts that she washed off in the sink, she subtly changed the look of her face. She rounded the natural almond shape of her eyes, and with some foundation slightly lighter than her normal skin tone, she softened the definition in her cheekbones, rounded her jawline, and made her chin seem slightly more pointy. Very, very carefully, she gave herself freckles, and then put in contact lenses that would subtly lighten the striking darkness of her eyes.

Then she put on the pirates outfit, which, without the costume jewelry, tattoos, or the stuffed parrot, didnt actually look too ridiculous. The pants were a little tight and didnt have nearly enough pockets, and in this body the half-corset pushed her chest up and out to moderate effect. She even went so far as to utilize a few spell components to give herself an earthy, musky smell, and put dirt under her fingernails.

Siobhan reviewed her work in the mirror. This disguise was not meant to go unnoticed. It was simply meant to be so far from the idea everyone had of Siobhan Naughtor the Raven Queenthat it would never cross their mind to suspect her. She tilted her head to the side and smiled brightly at her reflection.

This woman was more brash, carefree, and straightforward. A little alluring, with the form-revealing clothes, but the type to drink foamy beer and punch anyone who offended her in the face. Underneath the thin veneer of roughness she was secretly soft and cute. She knew no magic, but could tell a dozen raunchy jokes. Even Ennis probably wouldnt recognize her if he passed her on the street.

Siobhan walked back and forth a few times, taking long, hip-swaying strides while she kept one side of her mouth in a subtle smile, her eager gaze taking everything in. She did not consider herself a skilled actress, but it was impossible not to have picked up anything from Ennis after having been pulled into so many of his schemes over the years.

When she felt ready, she sneaked out of the inn and swaggered off to the Nightmare Packs underground fighting arena. People noticed her, but they didnt think about her. The only downside was that without her overblown reputation, it was a lot harder to talk to the underground arenas manager alone, and when she finally managed, he assumed she was there to sign up for the fights. When she denied this, he grew quite irritated, and told her to stop wasting his time and show herself out of his office with a sharp, dismissive wave.

Siobhan was forced to lift one hand to her mouth and whisper the chant for her shadow-familiar spell.

As her shadow stretched out beside her and rose over the edge of the managers desk to loom over him, the man froze. He looked up very slowly. His face paled as he met the illusory gaze of her shadow, which was really only darkness beneath the hood. His gaze trailed excruciatingly slowly from it to her.

She gave him a lopsided grin and lifted one hand to waist height to wave cheerily. Hi again! Its me.

The managers eyelids fluttered and he sagged back into his seat with a weak moan.

Siobhan let her shadow collapse back into its natural state beneath her, staring at the man with dismay. What do I do? she wondered. She had taken two steps forward, mentally reviewing the basic medical knowledge shed gained, when the manager jerked back from her, almost toppling his chair over.

She stilled, arm outstretched.

He scrambled out of the chair and bowed so deeply his head thumped into his desk. He reeled back, took another step away from her, and bowed again. He stayed that way for a few long seconds of silence.

Siobhan cleared her throat. Perhaps it would be best to simply pretend none of that had ever happened. I require someone discreet to run a small errand.

The manager straightened, staring at a spot somewhere over her left shoulder. His forehead was red where hed smashed it, and would probably bruise.

I need someone to request a meeting with Gera of the Nightmare Pack, or, if she is busy, to some other competent and trustworthy leader. Discretion is paramount. It is more important than speed. She hesitated, but decided that, as frightened as the man still seemed to be, it was important to be clear, even to the point of repeating herself. I am happy to wait.

It will be done at once, my queen, the man said with yet another bow. He tried to rush past her, but she stopped him.

Take this, she said, handing him a tiny jar of bruise balm. It was a travel size, which shed thought perfect for adding to her caches of emergency supplies throughout the city.

He stared at her as if shed tried to hand him an explosive stink bomb.

For your forehead, she explained.

Moving slowly, he held out his hand and accepted the tiny jar from her, eyes wide. Thank you.

Discretion, she repeated to his back as he scurried through the doorway.

While Siobhan waited, thankfully without any signs that the manager had shouted her presence to all of the arenas employees, she pulled out one of the warded chests shed purchased from Liza. She unlocked it and set it on the edge of the managers desk. Then she set up some dye and a color-changing spell to transform the four journals into a more appropriate black. When that was finished, she adjusted the light crystal in a few of the coasters into the same thirteen-pointed-star shape as before.

Finally, a soft knock sounded on the door.

Come in! Siobhan called cheerfully, maintaining her false persona just in case.

The manager opened the door and Gera entered, followed by her adopted brother Lord Lynwood. She moved to stand in front of Siobhan and bowed.

Lord Lynwood frowned in confusion. I believed we were here to meet the Raven Queen. Are you her messenger? he asked Siobhan, his voice smooth and deep.

Gera swept her leg out and kicked him in the ankle, then shaded one side of her face with her hand, as if trying to conceal her expression, as she gave him an angry, urgent look and jerked her head at Siobhan. She pulled her hand away and smiled, close-mouthed. Lady Raven Queen, thank you for calling us. I hope you have rested well?

Lord Lynwood did a double-take at Siobhan, who was still sitting in one of the two guest chairs. His eyes widened.

I have. Now it is time to move forward again. I have promises to keep.

Very carefully, Lynwood pressed his hands to the sides of his legs and gave her a quarter-bow. My apologies, my lady. Your skill at transformation isremarkable. I hope you will not take offense at my lack of discernment.

Of course not, Siobhan assured him. Be at ease, both of you.

The manager surreptitiously closed the door, as if he were afraid of what might happen if anyone noticed him escaping.

She could Sacrifice something adjacent to a life.

If you will hire Lizas help as my assistant and gather a few dozen dogs, I will consider our debt paid.

A few dozen dogs? Gera repeated.

Ones without homes, preferably. The more, the better. Feed them up and get them healthy enough over the next few weeks to survive a shock. When they are ready, you can inform me through this. Siobhan handed over one of the sympathetically linked journals. These are simple and fairly weak, but effective within the limits of Gilbratha. Their magic will not work in my presence, however. I am in the process of implementing a workaround for that issue, and I will inform you through the journal when you may begin to reply to me. Monitor it frequently. Inform me at once if Bears condition takes a turn for the worse before the other dogs are ready. And if you would be so kind, please deliver this one to Liza, Siobhan added, sliding a journal from the second bound pair across the table.

Should either of you be in danger of losing these journals, or allowing control to slip into anothers hands, you should destroy them instead.

I will be vigilant, Gera promised.

Finally, Siobhan pointed to the warded chest on the edge of the desk. I have an errand I would like to request, as well. Within, you will find several gold bars and some berserker potions. Please take them. I would appreciate it if you could sell the potions, and exchange the gold bars for gold crowns through a discreet intermediary. The serial numbers may have been logged, and I cannot use them as they are.

You have need of coin? Lynwood asked.

Is he trying to subtly ask about what I plan to spend it on? Siobhan speculated. I believe everyone finds coin useful.

That is true. It is only that I never imagined youpurchasing anything.

Siobhan suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. I assure you, my reputation as a thief is much exaggerated.

Gera elbowed her brother in the side, and whatever Lynwood was about to say turned into a nod of his head instead.

You may keep ten percent of whatever coin is returned, as a fee for facilitating this, Siobhan said. The remainder I will pick up when I come to the manor to see to Bear.

Gera refused. My sons life is worth much more than some gold, and more than the repayment you have requested of me thus far, she said gravely.

And Siobhan couldnt very well argue that Millenniums life wasnt worth very much, could she? So she was forced to concede.

But there was one last thing they could do for her. The Nightmare Pack should have the same kind of resources that Oliver did. So she requested multiple sets of false identity papers, the details of which shed written down while working on her disguise. This task, she insisted on paying for, as it couldnt be considered in any way related to Millenniums rescue.

When Siobhan finally left the arena, she checked the lock box for a letter from Professor Lacer, but found nothing.

While meticulously removing all traces of her disguise and reassuming her other form, her thoughts rolled over recent events, as if they were a stone to be polished by repetitive handling. And as she got into a carriage on the way back to the University, pieces of her conversation with Oliver kept rising to the surface.

Sebastien was not sure how she had expected her confrontation to go, but seemed obvious, now, that he would try to turn the whole thing around on her. She almost wished he could be, clearly and cleanly, an enemy.

If he were telling the truth, Oliver may not have harmed her maliciously, or actively, apart from the dubious terms of the loan. But did I really not deserve the truth? Did I not deserve his trust about an issue that indirectlyand in some ways directlyinvolved me? Its so important, he cant have thought that I would react well if I ever found out. Of course, he probably never expected that I would find out.

His comment about the lopsidedness of their relationship flashed through her mind, and some miserable emotion that was too complex to identify wriggled through her chest. Maybe that part was true, a little. But her imperfections and unintentional wrongs did not mitigate or sanction his own.

He didnt even apologize, she thought. Instead, he had once again chosen to try to manipulate her into responding how he wanted.

She didnt want to make an enemy of the Verdant Stag. It was best for both of them to work together to ensure neither was caught. And at the very least, she thought she could probably trust Oliver not to have her assassinated as long as she didnt blatantly move against him. But she would no longer consider him a friend, and one day, when the identity of the Raven Queen was no longer needed, perhaps their relationship would fray away to nothing.

And did Ana actually sabotage his textile contract?

When Sebastien got to the dorms, the buzzing in her mind and the heavy stone in her stomach had become unbearable. She sat cross-legged on her narrow bed, her back against the cold stone divider and her face to the window, and cast Newtons vibrational calming spell. If she could not calm her mind directly, she would forcefully adjust her mood via her body.

Damien arrived a few minutes later and knocked on the stone beside her cubicle curtain.

Sebastien let the spell fall away and called for him to enter.

Sebastien, can you help me with duplicating this stupid ribbon? Ive tried sixteen times in the last hour and I cannot get the texture Damien cut off as his gaze catalogued her expression.

She cleared her throat. I might be able to help. Have you tried the divination spells to examine the fabric yet?

Whats wrong? he asked.

She lifted up a hand to touch her face, wondering how he had known. She hadnt started crying without realizing it, and she thought her expression was rather bland. If she were as good a liar as Oliver, Damien would never have suspected.

Damien hurried to sit on the bed beside her. No one suspects anything about your escape from the kidnapping attempt, do they?

She shook her head silently.

Are you in danger? Is anyonehurt?

Sebastien realized suddenly that she was doing to Damien something very similar to what Oliver did to her.

Damien deserved better.

She cleared her throat again, her face feeling oddly numb, as if she existed at a great distance and were merely puppeting her body. No, its not about that. I need to tell you something. Or more like She trailed off, confused about what exactly she was trying to do and how to make it work. Lets go to the study room.

Damien remained gravely silent as they traveled until they were safe within the confines of the same inefficient sound-muffling spell that hed come up with last time.

I am upset about something Im not going to reveal to you, Sebastien announced, before Damien could speak.

He blinked at her.

Im not going to lie to you, but Im not going to tell you. I have a secret. Multiple secrets. And I dont think you can guess them but I hope you wont try, just in case. I dont want to deceive you but I cannot ever tell you the truth. And the secretswell, they do affect you a little bit. Theyre big. Theyre important. AndIm sorry. Her voice broke, and she lifted a hand to her mouth to keep any more words from spilling out. Her eyes burned, and she looked toward the ceiling to keep the unexpected tears from falling.

Before Sebastien could anticipate his movements, Damien stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. He ignored her full-body flinch and juststayed like that until her muscles relaxed. He was shorter than her, so his hair pressed into her chin, and her arms were pinned awkwardly at her sides. He seemed almost as awkward at giving hugs as she was at receiving them. His voice was slightly muffled as he spoke into the fabric of her shirt. Its okay.

Sebastien sniffed. What?

I mean, Im not so nosy that I have to know all your secrets. Not that Im not curious. I totally am. Especially now that youve done this dramatic confession and everything. I really want to know. But I dont have to know. If you ever feel that you can talk about it, I will listen and I will keep your secret.

You dont know what youre saying, Sebastien murmured. You cant know.

Wellthats true. But I think I know enough. I know you. Damien released his awkward hold on her and stepped back. His cheeks were flushed, and he couldnt quite meet her gaze. He tugged at the neck of his shirt. Im on your side, okay? Thats what Im trying to say. Myrddins balls, why are you making me say such embarrassing things out loud, Sebastien? He threw a halfhearted punch at her shoulder.

She sidestepped it, to both of their surprise, and then let out a watery chuckle.

Before Damien let the spell fall, he added, If you need help with whatever this huge horrible secret is, you can come to me. I might be more useful than you think.

Umm. Thanks. Sebastien knew that would probably never happen, but it was the sentiment that counted.