On the fifth floor of the Waldgrave house, a trial was taking place. A representative from every house was present, and the verdict was arrived at very quickly, though many found themselves voting against what was truly, in their hearts, the best interest. Pyrallis Daray, the man against whom the crime had been committed, had asked for death. Banishment, a fate for some that was worse than death, had been the verdict. Warren Astley, a man who had once been a good friend of Aaron Collins, had been caught in the act of murdering his daughter. Master Daray had also asked a sentence for the boy, Thomas, killed some odd ten years earlier, but as there was no evidence, the sentence could not be carried out. Many regarded this as getting away with murder.
On the floor below, a girl lay quietly in a bed, composed very carefully by her family to assure her comfortable repose. In a world she did not understand, she was wondering from domicile to domicile, some huts, some lofts, some tents, asking people she did not know if they had recently seen her father—a taller man with blue eyes and blond hair. He might be traveling with a boy. But no one had seen them, and then she knew that she wasn’t dead. A shadow fell over her, and there, towering above the apartments, hotels, igloos, and RVs, was the majestically monstrous Waldgrave house. It looked like a tombstone to Lena, her final resting place, whose halls she would haunt for all of eternity…
Lena!
Her eyes opened. She was in a place she had never seen before, and she was sure she was still in her dream. She had never seen these walls and ceiling. She did not know the bed in which she rested, but she knew the worried face standing over her. She knew she was about to get lectured, and despite the fact that she hurt all over, she knew she deserved it.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was hoarse. Her entire neck was bruised; it felt as though it was bruised clear through from front to back. Though she could not see it, the distinctive pattern of the rope was still brazenly coiled about her neck.
Don’t talk. I told you, no more secrets… Howard’s eyes were bloodshot. He had been drinking.
Where’s my mom?
She’s been too distraught to see you. She’s been too distraught to do anything. Howard sighed and pulled up a chair to the foot of the bed. He sat down and rubbed his temples as though he had a headache.
That certainly sounds like her. Lena retorted; the tinge of cynicism in her thoughts surprised her. She was getting better at controlling this new mode of communication.
Howard smiled a little. “Be nice. She loves you.”
She loves herself more.
“It’s who she is.” Howard sighed dismissively. “Who she was raised to be. Are you hungry?”
She was. She felt as though she hadn’t eaten in several days, and Howard informed her that that was, in fact, the case. She had been unconscious for almost forty-eight hours, screaming through her mind in a tortured way every once in a while, which was why she had been brought all the way up to the fourth floor—Master Daray had given up his bedroom so she would have a comfortable place to rest. Lena looked around at the oversized bed and heavy comforter and cringed, wishing she hadn’t asked; now she was going to have to think about him and his dying eyes lying in the bed, exactly where she was now. Howard had Mrs. Ralston bring some oatmeal, and Lena thanked her profusely. Mrs. Ralston looked different somehow; she had grabbed Lena’s hand and asked briefly how she was. She gave her the well wishes of the entire kitchen staff, and gave her a note from Devin (“I guess some of them are nice. I hope you’re better, and I hope to see you well again soon --Devin”), before pulling a tissue out of her pocket and excusing herself to tend to the departing families.
They’re leaving?
“The meeting’s over. About half of them are gone already. Alexis and Bianca asked me to give you their well wishes. As did Hesper and…Griffin.”
“They’re…” Her voice cracked. They’re gone already?
“Yes. Hesper informed me that if you weren’t disallowed from visiting the Corbett’s home in California, she would ask you to come and visit. You are disallowed, by the way. Until you’re legally an adult, and even then, I doubt it would be allowed.” They smiled together at the irony. Howard picked up a letter that was on the nightstand, and handed it to her. Lena started to open it, but Howard stopped her. “We need to talk about something first. That letter is from Hesper. I trust Hesper; she’s proven over the years that she can think for herself. She doesn’t buy into her parent’s fanaticism.”
Okay.
“There’s a fine line here between your personal space and things I need to know.”
Lena looked down at the thick envelope in her hands. She wouldn’t have expected Hesper to write so much.
She understood what Howard was getting at.
“So, here’s the deal. It’s been decided, by a vote, that you stay here. He’s leaving. The engagement has been dissolved, and while I can’t stop you from writing to Hesper, your friend, communication between you and Griffin is illegal now.” Howard leaned back in his chair, waiting for the protests to start.
Why do you have to enforce it? Lena clutched the letter. She knew her personal opinion wasn’t going to overrule the Council, but it might overrule Howard.
Howard looked up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to figure out where to begin. “Even though you’ve given me little reason to trust you, I trust that you have no romantic interest as far as Griffin is concerned. Others aren’t so convinced, and so there will be no communication until you’re a legal adult. You wouldn’t believe how hard I had to fight to get you that much.”
Lena thought for a moment. Thanks, I guess. What about…him? The attacker? Did he kill my brother?
Howard took another moment. “Warren Astley—the man who…”
I know. He introduced himself the night of the first dinner. Somewhere in her dreams, seeing his face over and over, she had placed him.
“He may or may not have killed Thomas. They don’t know. He’s always been a little strange; he’s never fit in here, but I don’t think anyone ever thought he was dangerous. All the same, we’re looking into the well-being of his children. There’s quite a few people who want the Daray line dead, to prevent the opening of the portal. Do you know about all that?”
Hesper told me. But why are people so opposed to opening it? I mean, why can’t they just open it, and the people who want to leave will leave, and everyone else can stay?
“Did Hesper tell you that every known opening of the portal has corresponded with a major pandemic? Well, every supposed opening, anyway. There’s no proof that this object even exists…modern science would almost demand that it couldn’t.” Howard nodded at Lena’s surprised expression. “We don’t know what’s on the other side, really, but people aren’t the only entities to have come through. The late eighteen hundreds is the last known time it was opened, and almost immediately afterwards, a pandemic plague started that killed millions worldwide. Most of us don’t believe it’s a coincidence. We don’t know for sure, but we think cholera may have come through it, too.”
A chill ran down Lena’s spine. He thought I’d start another pandemic...
“Not you specifically. I can see why she wouldn’t tell you this part, after how upset you were with the engagement. It can only be opened by a male heir, which is why your grandfather is anxious that you marry a Silenti, and not a human—even if you were to produce a male heir, he wouldn’t be able to read what was on the portal if he were human.”
Oh, my God…Thomas…
“Lena,” Howard leaned forward, so that he was closer to her. “There’s no proof. He may be a bigot and an asshole…” Hearing Howard use this word made Lena’s eyes go wide, “…but you shouldn’t automatically blame him for something he may not have done. You’re a Daray; I’d be equally as unfair to say you’re anything like your mom or grandfather. Innocent until proven guilty.”
He had a point. But what about my mom, couldn’t she have more kids? I mean, isn’t she just as big a risk as
I am?
“There were complications with her pregnancy. She won’t tell anyone exactly what happened, but we do know that you and Thomas were delivered via cesarean in a hospital that wasn’t spectacularly well prepared. She can’t have any more children, and that puts you in a complicated situation.”
Lena stared at him. Yes, that did put her in a complicated situation. She could possibly kill a whole religion by merely refusing to have children.
“But to get back to the point, that’s why I have to enforce the decisions. I’m the lucky moderator between both sides of the argument. The Old Faith believers have agreed to let the dispute go as long as the Darays remain in power, and the others agree to leave the Darays in power as long as they’re not trying to open the portal. So here I am, enforcing the agreements so you, your mother, and your grandfather can live with as much freedom as is allowed.”
Lena met his eyes. She probably owed him thanks, but couldn’t see how a life at Waldgrave could be called freedom. And Mr. Astley?
“Well, Daray wanted him dead, but because he didn’t actually manage to kill you, he got away with banishment. He’ll never be allowed back into this world.”
That hardly seems fair. Lena would gladly have traded places with the “unfortunate” Mr. Astley.
“For a Silenti, it’s torture. The human world is hardly adequate to meet our needs—with no other Silenti to interact with, he’ll be trapped in his own mind. It’s very much like serving a life sentence in seclusion. He will suffer.”
Lena sighed. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to rant, but she was tired again. She finished her oatmeal, and was about to doze off when Howard started speaking again.
“There’s one more thing.” He sounded worried, as if he were telling her something he didn’t really want her to know, but was sure she would find out eventually. “Griffin saved your life, no matter what his motive was. We’re all thankful for that. Frankly, he took quite a beating from Astley to ensure your safety before finally subduing him. So, don’t open that letter in front of me. Don’t tell me what it says, or who it’s really from. As long as it’s nothing more than letters back and forth, I don’t want to know. But if you ever hear of something that I need to know, I do expect you to be responsible enough to tell me, now that you understand. Now get some sleep.”
Lena watched Howard leave the room and close the door. She looked down at the letter, but was too tired to open it, and fell asleep with it still clutched in her hand.
“Breakfast started ten minutes ago. Up!”
Lena squinted as Mrs. Ralston threw open the shades of her bedroom with a clap and light flooded in. She pulled the comforter over her head.
“Up! Up!” Mrs. Ralston yanked the covers off of Lena’s bed.
“It’s my birthday…that means I get to sleep in.” Lena pulled the pillow out from under her and hid her head underneath it. She mumbled into the bed.
“What?”
Go away.
“I’ll let you out of school early. That’s all the birthday you get.” Ralston grabbed the pillow as well, managed to harass Lena into getting out of bed, and then went back downstairs.
School. The last several months had been a rude awakening; with Griffin gone, and visitors restricted, Mrs. Ralston had been the only company Lena had. She had started out years behind on math and science, but thankfully, her reading and writing skills were above average. With all day access to her pupil, Mrs. Ralston had put her on an accelerated program. While Lena had resisted at first, she quickly found that attempts to tune out lessons were futile—when she became too distracted to listen or read, Mrs. Ralston was promptly talking inside her head, and it was impossible to ignore. In just a few months she had nearly completed the required curriculum.
Lena rolled out of bed, showered, brushed her teeth and hair, and dressed. She even found it in her heart to put on some eyeliner and mascara, in Hesper’s honor. She looked at herself in the mirror. In a time span of less than a year, she’d done some serious rearranging in her life. Her reflection hadn’t changed since the day before, or the day before that, or the day before that. But since one year ago, when she’d looked at herself in a mirror in Brazil, she had grown a full inch. Her face was filling out, she wore makeup at the urging of a friend, and she’d finally enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in. It was the same mirror she’d be looking into next year, she reminded herself solemnly. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It hadn’t been a very good year, but a year good for growing up nonetheless.
Every year for her birthday, her father had given her the same thing. It was usually in conjunction with something else, but there was always a new pair of shoes. Shoes wear out in about a year, and Lena looked forward to the new sneakers; her father had said they were a symbol of moving forward. They were the vehicle of the journey of her life; this year, though, there would be no shoes. It was part of the journey forward. It was part of saying goodbye. Moving around the Waldgrave house didn’t wear shoes out the way her previous lifestyle had, anyway.
She walked down to the dining room, as she habitually did, and sat in her usual spot at the table, with her mother and Howard, who both wished her a happy birthday.
“You’ve got cards.” Howard pushed a stack of envelopes at her. She thumbed through them briefly, noting that Hesper’s was thickest—notes from the Hesper were frequent, and usually contained more than one letter. Howard pretended not to notice, but Lena knew he did because he gave her a very serious look every time she received one. Today, even though he had to know there would be a card from Griffin, he only smiled and scratched behind his left ear.
After breakfast (Mrs. Ralston stuck a candle in her pancakes, which was somewhat cliché but still appreciated), in the living room, Ava gave her daughter a small box wrapped in brightly colored paper. It contained a necklace, which looked suspiciously like a bracelet she already owned. It had a silver leaf pattern with a jewel rose pendant.
“I thought it would look good with the one you have…” Ava smiled, leaning her chin on her hand.
“Thanks, mom. It’s gorgeous.”
Howard gave her a somewhat larger box, and winked at her as she opened it. A new pair of shoes.
Lena’s eyes snapped up in surprise. “How did you—?“
“Family tradition. My dad used to do it for us; Aaron said a long time ago that he was going to do it for you, too.”
Mrs. Ralston appeared at the door between the kitchen and the living room, carrying a plate of cupcakes. An envelope was sticking out of her apron pocket.
“Ah, thanks Mrs. Ralston!”
After setting down the cupcakes, she handed Lena the envelope. Lena started to open it, but Mrs. Ralston tapped her hand with another piece of paper. Lena looked up; Mrs. Ralston was smiling sweetly—almost smugly—as Lena took it from her.
“I told you, I’m letting you out of classes early.” She said.
Lena smiled in surprise as she opened the paper. It was a home-printed graduation certificate. Really?
Mrs. Ralston nodded. Really. But don’t get complacent, or I will start remedial lessons.
Lena nodded solemnly.
The cupcakes were passed out, and Lena started to open Mrs. Ralston’s card. It was a simple birthday card with a traditional greeting on the front. But when she opened it, airline ticket vouchers fell out.
I called in a few special favors. Send me a postcard. I’m told the shoes are all the fashion in Sydney.
Love, Howard, Mom, and Mrs. Ralston
“Uncle Howard, you rock!” She got up to hug him. Perhaps a little too tightly, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Now, it wasn’t all me!” Howard laughed. “Mrs. Ralston agreed to take you…and your mom is going too. You’re welcome.”
Lena couldn’t stop smiling. She looked back at the vouchers; a trip to Australia…
“This is legal? I mean, I can actually tell people we’re going?”
“As long as Mrs. Ralston is with you. I mad
e some phone calls, and you’ll be staying with the Masons. Try not to cause trouble.”
At the end of breakfast and cupcakes, she gave another round of hugs, and then went back up to her room to call Hesper about her trip to Australia. When she walked into her room, she saw the cat sitting on her bed, with a paper-back sized box in front of it. The cat, on seeing her, ran from the room. Lena approached the package cautiously. She read the note on top without touching anything.
For your secrets. Happy Birthday.
She opened the paper quietly, and found a small, empty journal. It was blue, with a sort of family crest printed on the front—silver horned cats arranged in a triangle. Inside the cover, there was an inscription in Latin in the same handwriting. Lena thought back to another journal she’d once found, and lost, that was of similar size and language. She sighed.
I guess I’ll have to learn Latin…
She picked up her cell phone and called Hesper. The phone rang twice before she picked up.
“Happy Birthday, you crazy kid! Did you get the card?”
Lena smiled. “I haven’t opened it yet, but thanks.”
“He sent a card too. I read it. You really need to read it.”
“Hesper!”
“What? You’re telling me you wouldn’t?”
“Well, you’re not supposed to tell the person you did it!” Lena went and retrieved her stack of envelopes, several of which appeared to be courtesy cards sent by people who knew her grandfather. There were cards from Bianca and Alexis, and two from the Colburn residence—one of them was probably from Devin. She found the card with the Corbett’s return address and tried to rip it open one handed.
“Okay. Pretend I didn’t say that, then.”
Lena ripped the envelope open, quickly read Hesper’s card, and then moved on to Griffin’s. To her eyes, it was just a birthday card…much to her relief, Griffin still signed everything with ‘Sincerely.’
“What am I looking for here?”
“You don’t think it’s cute? He’s so cute when he does that. He was nervous and everything when he wrote it. You can’t tell that he was nervous?”
“No.” While Lena had become slightly better with her abilities, she was not the Silenti that Hesper was. She probably never would be. Lena pushed the thought out of her mind in favor of something happier.
“I’m going to Australia next month. Think you can talk your parents into letting you go?”
There was laughter at the other end. Lena didn’t need to be a mind reader to know the thoughts that were running through Hesper’s mind. Staying up all night. Surfing. Flirting with cute, ignorant humans who didn’t care about politics or religion, and maybe even dancing the night away with a few of them. It would be a spectacular waste of time, and Lena was greatly looking forward to sharing it with the first best friend she’d ever made.
Hesper finally calmed herself enough to reply. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I assume you’ll be staying with the Masons?”
“How did you know?”
“Oh, I’ve got my sources. They’re really nice, though. Not the types my parents really want me hanging around, but nice. Hey, hold on a sec, the Boy Wonder wants to talk to you.” She tried to keep her voice enthusiastic, but Lena heard her falter. She hadn’t been enjoying life as much since Griffin had moved in.
Panic shot through Lena. Having just won her freedom, she was in no hurry to lose Howard’s trust. Again. “Hesper, don’t! I’m not supposed to—“
A deep, arrogant tone cut her off. “Happy birthday, Princess.”
“Griffin!” Lena felt herself blush. She wondered if she should hang up the phone.
“So, you missed me. That’s good to know.”
“I have not! And give the phone back to Hesper before—“
“You get in trouble and lose your precious trip to Australia?”
“That’s annoying. Quit it, and give the phone back.”
Griffin laughed. “Well, I see I’m not invited then. I couldn’t have come anyway. Master Daray wants me there at Waldgrave while you’re gone.”
Lena felt herself blush again. “It’s not that you’re not invited. We’re not supposed to be talking. Communicating. Contacting each other in any manner. You especially.”
“But you like talking to me.”
“I like Hesper more.” Lena walked to her closet, mostly to muffle her voice in case someone happened to come to her door, and started grabbing clothes that looked trendy and travel-appropriate. She grabbed several blouses, piled them on the bed, and started to pick through them for the ones that Hesper would approve of.
Griffin went on. “So you don’t want to talk to me at all then? It’s been so long, and I never really got to check up on you after the incident. Go with the blue—you always looked great in blue.”
Lena grabbed the blue blouse off the hook and rolled her eyes. “Okay, smarty-pants, you win. You’re a genius at this and I’m not worthy of the family name.”
“Just sharing an opinion.”
“You mean showing off. Give the phone to Hesper before I get you in trouble.”
“Well, well. Somebody hasn’t been doing her research.”
“And what does that mean?” Lena put a hand on her hip.
“Silenti are officially adults at age sixteen, so you can now call me at all hours of night and day like I know you’ve been wanting to. But since you seem in no mood to discuss the details, I’ll give you back to Hesper.”
“Griffin, wait!”
Hesper’s voice answered. “Hello? No, he’s gone. I think he’s got a meeting—that’s been happening a lot lately.”
“Am I an adult?” Lena asked anxiously.
“Is this a theoretical discussion?”
“Hesper!”
“You mean, technically? Yeah, I guess so. Congratulations, you can now be tried as an adult in our legal system. Woohoo.”
Lena sat down on the bed and thought. What rights did she garner now that she could use to her benefit?
“Is Griffin coming back? He said something about coming here while we’re in Australia.”
“I doubt it. The Council wouldn’t let it happen. It’s one thing for the two of you to talk, but you pose too much of a threat living in the same house. A lot of them probably don’t even want you to talk, but indiscriminate contact with other members of the community is one of our basic rights. He’ll probably leave before you get back.”
“Can I leave?”
“No. The Council probably won’t let you.” Hesper said dryly. “For good reason, as I’m hoping you’ve figured out.”
Lena? Are you available?
Lena looked back at her bedroom door. “I’ve got to go, my keeper wants me.”
In the background, Lena heard Griffin yell something.
Hesper sighed. “Griffin says you need to take your new journal with you. I don’t know what that means. Later.”
“Yeah, bye.” Lena hung up the phone. She picked up the blue journal her grandfather had given her and tossed it in with her clothes. Yeah. What is it?
I need to talk to you about something—meet me in the study.
Lena walked the long hall and made a left into the room at the far end. Howard and Ava were seated in a couple of the plush reading chairs in front of the desk, both looking very serious. A new door had appeared on the right side of the room.
Lena pointed at it. “Is there a spiral staircase behind that door? The one that goes up to the third floor?”
Howard glanced briefly over at the door. “Sure.”
This response usually meant that the guess was wrong. Lena made a mental note to check it after the impending lecture was over.
“If she can’t even navigate the house yet, how can you possibly think this is a good idea?” Ava crossed her arms, stood up, and walked to the window. She gazed out in her usual effort to look dramatic.
“She might never gain that ability, and she’s learned enough that she’s not getting a menta
l shock anymore. Lena, do you have any interest in politics?”
“Politics?” Lena sat down in the chair her mother had vacated. “This isn’t about Griffin, is it?”
Howard shrugged. “It is, a little.”
“I’m sorry. I know I should have just hung up, but it was really just a few seconds, and Hesper said that I’m a legal adult, so—“
Howard raised his hand to silence her. He wasn’t smiling. “As long as it happened today, you’re within your bounds. You’re old enough to make those decisions for yourself now. But this is about family representation. I want to name you as my heir for legal reasons.”
“Like what?” It came out in a ruder tone of voice than she had intended. It was flattering, but a huge surprise—she hadn’t exactly given him reason to trust her. Lena’s only experience with the naming of an heir was Griffin, and up to this point, she had thought it was a process reserved exclusively for males.
“Now, I can’t make any promises,” Howard said simply. “But I think it could work. As my legal heir, you’d still be my legal responsibility, but you’d be entitled to make decisions independent of the will of your grandfather. Even though he can’t force you into the marriage, he does retain the right to make your life a living hell if you don’t go willingly. You could also attend the Council meetings and have a hand in the decisions that control your life. Master Daray has an influence on his situation, and I think it’s only fair that you do too. At the very least, you’d inherit the remaining Collins’ earthly possessions.”
“Earthly possessions?” Lena repeated.
Howard shrugged. “There’s a trust fund, and that’s probably the only thing with real monetary value. Family photos. Your grandfather’s old archeological tools, and ownership of some of the items he recovered. Most of them are in museums now, or on display here in the house. Master Daray laid claim to some of the Silenti artifacts, which he’s squirreled away somewhere here.” Howard glanced around the ceiling, as if he suspected the old man might have hidden some of them in the very walls. “My mother’s house would be in your care as well, in the event of my death. But I’m planning to sell it soon, because it’s too much trouble to maintain in addition to everything here. I suppose you would also get my music, wardrobe, books, and a very fine collection of Sunday comic clippings from my youth. Stuff like that. The main value for you will be the access to the Council, and the influence you could gain over your situation.”
Lena looked at her feet and nodded.
“It will never stand.” Ava turned and looked directly at Lena, who looked back at Howard—it had sounded too good to be true.
Howard nodded his head back and forth. “A woman has never been an heir or a Representative, and if I name you, you will inherit the position upon my passing. There’s nothing in the law that says I can’t do it, but your approval is dependent on a forty-percent vote of Council assent.”
Ava glared. “As your mother, I’m telling you not to do this.”
“She is your mother, and you should consider that, but you are of legal consenting age and the decision is yours.” Howard said with finality.
Lena looked from Ava’s face, bleached by the light coming through the window, to Howard, who was watching her eagerly. “What are my chances? Do you think they would vote a girl in?”
“I don’t know. But I want to try, for your sake. For reasons you can’t even understand yet, but you will. You’ll be able to plead your case for yourself, and I think you’ll gain a great deal of respect for it.”
Ava hissed. “You’re a Daray, not a Collins, Lena!”
“Mom, Griffin is a Daray. That’s why he’s the heir, and not me—I’m a Collins.”
“Lena!” She pleaded.
“Howard, I’d love to be a Head of Household and inherit your crap. And thank you. Really, thank you.” Without looking at her mother, Lena went back to her room and packed her luggage in solitude.
*****