“Hannah. Our father’s name was Schulze.”
Niffin coughed, and his eyes blinked wide with surprise. “Schulze? As in... Schulze Foundries?”
Brahm flashed a grin that made him look like a fox.
“Foundry?” I asked. “Metal making?”
“Yes,” Niffin answered. “Perhaps the biggest metal manufacturing outfit in all of the Continent. I am surprised you have never heard of them.”
“I’ve been otherwise occupied, if you hadn’t noticed.” My ignorance proved yet again how sheltered my father had kept me.
He was trying to protect you, Grandfather said.
And you see how well that worked out for me.
“So you and your sisters are the owners?” I asked.
Brahm wagged his head, curls bouncing. “My father put his estate in trust for us until we’re twenty-five.” He scowled, his expression going dark, revealing a glimpse of the fighter living beneath his good-natured façade.
Imagining myself in the shoes of one of his opponents, I shivered and prayed I’d never find myself on his bad side.
“Good thing he did, or Daeg would’ve taken everything after my mother’s death.”
“But you and your sister obviously do not hurt for money,” Niffin said.
“Before you accuse us of being spoiled and soft, remember that I watched Lord Daeg grind my mother to dust under his heel.” Brahm jabbed a finger at Niffin. “Remember that Hannah and I would do anything to see his empire fall.”
“Including using me as the weapon of his destruction?” I asked.
“I want your trust, Evie.” He peered at me, his gaze hard and sharp. “So I won’t lie. Yes, Hannah and I want to help restore you to your throne in hopes that we can someday call upon you to return the favor. You do not exist in a void, my lady. Word of your abilities is spreading—new myths and legends are forming around your name. There are a greater number of believers in this world than you know, and quite a few of them live right here in Steinerland. They’re more than eager to lend you their faith.”
I said nothing while I digested his assertions. That my reputation had grown was a daunting reality—it made my position in the world a variable beyond my control. And Brahm’s expectations of me were tremendous. What he and his sister were willing to pay to obtain my cooperation was equally as tremendous. But I wondered if helping them was the right thing to do. And by helping them, how did I know I wouldn’t be trading one tyrant for another? How convenient that the Schulze family should come flocking to my side in my hour of need. Gideon trusted them, but I wondered if that was enough reason for me to trust them as well.
“I won’t promise anything yet.” I needed time to think. What I really wanted was to consult Gideon, find out if everything Brahm said was true. However, waiting for Gideon’s confirmation would take too long. “But I’m not saying no.”
“That’s good enough for now.” He raked his hair off his brow, but a lone curl sprang back, dangling over his eyebrow. For that instant, he looked like a boy, young and innocent.
I knew better than to believe it.
I looked young and innocent, too, as long as you didn’t know I had a heart of iron and lightning flowed in my veins.
Not long after setting out, we reached a small depot in Neissen, a quaint village of cottages with gabled roofs and wide eaves trimmed in decorative pastry-icing patterns. We stopped in town long enough to bolt down a quick breakfast—tea, dark rye bread, and cheese—while the horses slurped water from a public trough. Traffic was heaviest near the center of town where the train depot sat, but the farther we walked beyond Neissen’s borders, the fewer people, horses, and carts we met.
The path from town led us into a dense pine forest, tall evergreens thick with green needles that discouraged sunlight from reaching anywhere but the center of the road. In my mind, every shadow hid a band of angry farmers wielding scythes and axes. My brief nap on the train and our quick breakfast meant I could probably make the trek to Steinerland without passing out, but my connection to the storms was a gossamer thread, easily broken if stretched too far. I prayed we wouldn’t come across any reason to test my stamina.
“Evie, you look exhausted,” Brahm said, as if hearing my thoughts. “Why don’t you ride for a while?”
I stiffened my shoulders. “I’m fine. If I get too tired before we reach Steinerland, I’ll consider it, but I’d rather keep the horses fresh as long as possible.” In case I need to make a run for it, I didn’t say.
Brahm had likely drawn a similar conclusion—he didn’t push me to reconsider.
I wasn’t the only tired one. Wrinkles and dust had spoiled Brahm’s fancy suit. The black in Niffin’s hair had faded until he looked less like a raven-haired rogue and more like a Fantazike who’d taken up chimney sweeping in his spare time. Malita’s dress hung in limp folds, and stray curls sprang from her scarf. Everyone’s footsteps seemed to drag. Our group’s conversation dwindled as we trudged on. The only sounds were occasional birdcalls, rustling trees, and the steady plodding of our horses’ hooves.
As the day wore on, the sun rose higher, brightening the pathway, and its warmth lent our excursion an optimistic mood. I was reluctant to savor it, though.
You’ve become quite cynical if you can’t even let yourself enjoy a little sunshine, Grandfather said.
“Things always go badly when I let down my guard.”
“What?” Brahm gave me a questioning look.
I waved him off. I didn’t know how much Gideon had told him, but I hoped to keep a few things to myself, particularly my strange situation with my grandfather and my mechanical heart.
The clatter of trotting horses alerted us to an approaching band of travelers. Anticipating trouble, I felt my heart rise into my throat, but the group—two men and two women in fine riding clothes—passed without stopping, muttering polite greetings as they hurried by. I kept my eye on them until they disappeared around the bend. My pulse returned to normal only after I’d verified no one was lying in wait for us.
How did Gideon bear it? I’d underestimated the burden I’d given him by expecting him to always be responsible for our protection and safety. When I saw him again, I’d beg his forgiveness for ever being dismissive of his warnings and concerns. I’d vow to be more considerate of his counsel. I don’t know how to get rid of it, this constant current of fear flowing under my skin. Will I always be like this, sitting on the edge of my seat, always anticipating an attack?
No, Grandfather said. It won’t always be like this, but I won’t lie. Finding peace won’t be easy for you. You’ve spent almost every moment of the last few months fighting to survive. And in fact, you nearly died, nearly crossed the border into the Shadowlands. Living like that does something to a person’s spirit. Yours is indelibly darkened, I’m afraid. But it’s not a burden you’ll have to bear on your own. You have me.
And Gideon, I said.
Grandfather chuckled. He’s perhaps not who I would have chosen for you, but you couldn’t have done better for yourself, darling. Find more like him, men and women, and place them in your inner circle. Then you might find yourself relaxing more often.
Malita and Niffin could be those men and women, if they’d stay with me.
But you insist on sending them away, Grandfather said.
If I forced them to stay, I’d never be able to truly trust them. I’d fear their resentment would eventually rot their loyalty. They’ll stay of their own free will or not at all.
