The Nalorean woman pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “Down the hall, here.”
“Help me get Lord Visentis in there,” I replied.
I had my hands full, to say the least. I needed Kalon up and running, ideally before the Rimian came to. For good measure, I ripped a piece of the Rimian’s cloak and used it as a gag, to keep him quiet in case he woke up. I’d clocked him good, though.
Whatever this hot mess was, I was all the more determined to untangle it and get to the truth. Someone didn’t want me investigating the Darklings and the Red Threads, and that was exactly what I was going to do. First, however, I’d have to bring Kalon back into the realm of consciousness.
Tristan
We arrived in the far south of the city, where the Makios dynasty was known to live. One of the more fortunate families, they counted six to ten siblings per marriage, and they occupied an entire neighborhood in this area.
The alley was flanked by blue brick homes with three levels and whitewashed windows. The doors were white, with brass knockers, and there were flowers at every entrance and sill. “It’s a common theme for the Makios,” Valaine said. “The dark blue and white. They’re seafarers, most of them. Sailors. Matching their colors to the sea and its foamy waves.”
“Do you know Egan’s wife?” I asked, as we made our way up the steps to his house.
Two gold guards had come with us, and they stayed in the middle of the street. The sun was setting through the reddish haze, a giant crimson blotch spreading across the sky. I took my mask off as Valaine knocked on the door.
“Maritza. Yes,” she said. “Not intimately, but I know she’s a good person. Gentle and kind, patient. An excellent mother, too.”
“They have children.”
“Four of them,” Valaine replied, slightly amused. “I don’t know what it is about the Makios bloodline, but they never had fertility problems.”
“Are they the only ones?”
She shook her head. “There are others, a couple minor dynasties. It’s rare, still, but not rare enough to build effigies of their forefathers, if you know what I mean.”
The door opened, and a young-looking Aeternae woman appeared in the frame. Wearing a simple, pale gray skirt with a white, frilly shirt, she wore her curly blonde hair in a loose bun, and gold teardrop earrings hung from her ears. Her blue eyes widened when she recognized Valaine.
“Lady Crimson,” she breathed. “What an honor to have you come to our door! Please, do come in!”
“Thank you, Maritza,” Valaine replied, and we made our way into the hallway, then the living room to our left.
It was a pretty home, with pale blue walls and sculptural white molding that framed the ceiling. A crystal-and-brass chandelier came down, with small candles mounted on each of the thirty arms. They were half lit, and Maritza joined us, holding a box of long matchsticks. We’d caught her in the process of preparing for the evening.
We sat on the large gray velvet sofa, and Maritza offered us fresh blood. I took a moment to observe my surroundings, admiring the dark wood mantel and the matching, sturdy bookcase, filled with thick, leather-bound volumes of Aeternae literature. There were dozens of small paintings on the walls, a combination of portraits, scenery, and still life—a harmonious balance meant to portray an equally harmonious family life.
Every object in this room had been carefully handpicked to match everything else. A lot of care and attention had gone into the décor, and there was nothing in here that would suggest Egan’s extremist tendencies.
We waited until Maritza came back with a small crystal pitcher, from which she poured fresh Rimian blood into our lily-shaped glasses. “What brings you into our humble home, milady?” the Aeternae asked.
“Do you mind if I ask, where are your children?” Valaine replied.
Maritza frowned slightly. “Upstairs, taking their afternoon nap. They’ve had a full day.”
“How so? The study season is over, isn’t it?”
“It is. But they learn new subjects outside of it, and the boys have also taken up swordsmanship. We try to keep them busy during the holidays, as well, as much as we can,” Maritza said. “They have more energy when they’re young. Their minds are perfect for learning.”
Valaine nodded slowly. “Listen, Maritza, there is no good way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. Can you please sit down?”
The good humor left her with incredible speed. She lowered herself into an armchair a few feet across from us, hands fumbling with one another in her lap. “What’s wrong, milady?”
“It’s about Egan,” Valaine replied. “I’m sorry, but he’s dead.”
Maritza sucked in a breath, the color instantly draining from her face. “What… Why? How?!”
“For the sake of your children, I need you to remain calm,” Valaine said, reaching out. She took Maritza’s hands in hers, squeezing them gently as a means to comfort the Aeternae.
“I… I don’t understand,” she murmured, tears gathering in her eyes.
“Egan was a Darkling. He attacked me and my friend here. We had no choice,” Valaine said. “I didn’t even know it was him until we took his mask off.” She went on to tell Maritza about last night’s attack and our visit to the orphanage, laying out the details of the subsequent attack, while the woman sobbed and struggled to process everything that she was told.
For a moment, I saw rage flaring in her bloodshot eyes, but it soon faded, as Valaine further explained the circumstances which had led to her husband’s death. It took a good half hour to get Maritza back into a functional state, but she did it. Personally, I was impressed with Valaine’s ability to command a person like that, despite the tragedy that had clearly befallen Maritza Makios.
“I was only defending myself,” Valaine concluded. “If I could turn back time, I would… but I worry the result would be similar, if not the same.”
“The Darklings were determined to kill us both,” I added, my voice low.
“Who are you, exactly?” Maritza managed, her lower lip quivering as she looked at me.
“Tristan Vaughn.”
“One of the outsiders,” Valaine clarified. “He’s been helping with our investigation into the Darklings, Maritza. And I had no idea it would make us cross paths with your husband. Please, accept my condolences.”
“I… I don’t understand,” the Aeternae sobbed. “Egan is a good provider… a gentle husband. A patient father. A loyal Aeternae. It doesn’t make sense. Why would he do such a thing?”
“We don’t know.” Valaine sighed, lowering her gaze as she stared at the black-and-white thread she’d retrieved from Egan’s pocket. “This is a distinguishing mark among the Darklings, it seems. Do you recognize it? Have you, perhaps, seen it before—maybe around the house?”
