Grim (17 page)

Erika squared her jaw. “Well then,” she said. “What do I have to do?”

In spite of himself, Jeremiah smiled.

“Good morning, glories.”

Shawn blinked against the sunlight and saw a blond man smiling down at them.

“I am speaking, of course, to the ladies. To you, sir, I'll leave it at ‘good morning.'”

“Are you Jeremiah's brother?”

The man looked a little surprised. “I am, yes. And he told you about me?”

“He said that you could help us.”

“Excellent. But I'm afraid, actually, that he must have been talking about young Jegud. I'm an older of the set. Uriel, the third prince, entirely at your service.” He swept them a deep bow.

Megan was sitting by this time, and Rebecca had propped herself up with an elbow. Uriel twirled his cap between his fingers and studied them.

“How can I help you?” he asked.

“You could get us out,” Shawn said.

Uriel's eyes slit at the sarcasm, but he waved off the annoyance with a flip of his hand.

“That, unfortunately, is not my department,” he said. “I have no idea what brilliance Jeremiah has planned for that, since all of you seem to be very much alive, but I'm sure that it will be well worth watching. Can I find anything to make you more comfortable? The young miss may want her vision, for one? And shoes all 'round, perhaps?”

“That would be helpful, yes.”

“My pleasure.” He smirked. “I only ask for something small in exchange.”

At that, Shawn jerked his chin. “And what would that be?”

Uriel's smirk broadened into a grin. “It's a bit complicated, I'm afraid, but you'll have to trust me. A test, of sorts. Now, are we agreed?”

“Not without knowing what we're expected to do.”

He laughed. “Well, that's part of the test, isn't it? Listen, just don't say a word to my brothers. My father is overseeing them. Quality control, as you might say. I only need to know, from time to time, how they've been doing.”

“That's all?”

“Cover to cover.”

“Fine, then.”

“Excellent.” Uriel smiled again, a flash that came smooth and debonair to his mouth. A politician's grin. “You're in angel country now,” he said, offering his hand. “You
must
shake.”

Uriel let his smile linger as Shawn held out his arm.

Static crackled between their palms when their skin touched.

“Have an excellent day, Master Stripling,” Uriel said. “I'll be back with bells on.”

He straightened up and disappeared into the woods, the edges of his cloak flapping around his ankles.

 

Jegud arrived in the morning and showed himself into Jeremiah's study. He noticed the pile of bandages near the sofa but said nothing.

“She found out,” Jeremiah said.

Jegud turned, startled, and found his brother considering a row of books on one of the tall glass-front shelves.

“I told you that she would.”

“I never said you were wrong.”

“Yes, you did,” Jegud said. “You said exactly that.”

“I said ‘you may be right, but I think not.' I'm entitled to an opinion, aren't I?”

“Certainly. For now.”

“Maybe not
just
for now.” Jeremiah pulled out a set of law books and swept the dust from their spines. “If I give the king his new queen, I'll be as good as an advisor.”

Jegud's eyes widened. “She didn't,” he gasped.

“She doesn't have another option, Jegud.”

“You didn't tell her that, did you?”

“No. She saw it for herself.”

“But she doesn't have to do this.”

“Just like you don't have to accept Gabriel's succession. But what would happen to you if you didn't? The same thing that will happen to me if she doesn't sacrifice. The same thing that will happen to her children.”

Jegud followed Jeremiah as he brought the books back to his desk.

“You can tell me that you don't agree,” Jeremiah said. “You're entitled to your opinion too, after all.”

“I'd rather not cause trouble,” Jegud said. “What did you want from me?”

“The Stripling children need a guide.”

Jegud scoffed. “Fine plan, Jeremiah,” he said. “Except that, first of all, I'm not one, and second of all, they're not dead.”

Jeremiah winced.

“What was that for?” Jegud asked, straightening.

“Nothing.”

“Liar. What do you know?”

Jeremiah started slowly. “On my last visit,” he said, “Kala was a bit shy.”

Jegud reached out, then let his arm drop, defeated.

“Don't look so troubled, Brother,” Jeremiah said. “I think I'm mistaken. We weren't there long. But check on them, at least. They've seen the hounds.”

Jegud's face grew more troubled. “That's impossible.”

“That's what I thought.”

“Michael has plenty to do without borrowing Gabriel's dogs to chase children.”

“Michael will do anything to get to me.”

Jegud sighed, looked away, through the window and out into a city that he wished he too could leave. “Fine, then,” he said. “I'll go. But I'm warning you about Erika: She's not what Father's looking for. She's not what anyone is looking for.”

Jeremiah laid down his books and came back around to the front of the desk. He draped an arm over his brother's shoulders.

“Look at my mother's portrait, Jegud,” he said, “and tell me that she doesn't look like Erika.”

“She has her hair, but that's all.”

“And her eyes. And she has the same nose, the same cheekbones. The same everything. She's the same.
They're
the same.”

Jegud smirked. “Such a close study. Are you sure you're not the one attracted to her, Brother?”

The comment stung more than Jegud intended, or realized. Jeremiah took a step away and cleared his throat. “You know very well,” he said, “that it can't be like that.”

“And you know very well that remaking souls is just a myth.”

“What else is myth, Jegud? Female rogues.”

“Not myth, just unusual.”

“Childbearing rogues?”

“It can't be a myth if no one ever talks about it.”

“A king loving a commoner?”

“You're reaching too far,” Jegud said. “Looking for things that aren't there.” He noticed Jeremiah's shoulders, slumped and beaten, and he felt sorry for him. “Your life isn't a storybook, Jeremy. Don't try to make it one just for a happily-ever-after.”

 

Shawn let Megan ride piggyback because they'd found themselves in a thicket of nettles and she was nearly crying from all the stings. Rebecca held on to Shawn's sleeve, cursing quietly under her breath with each step.

“Let's turn back,” she hissed.

“We're halfway through already,” he said. “It's easier just to go on.”

“I don't know why we had to go anywhere in the first place. Uriel said he'd be back soon.”

“Jeremiah told us to keep moving.”

“Jeremiah was an ass.”

“Gently now, he
is
my brother.”

Uriel strode up behind them. His clothing slipped easily over the underbrush, whispering over the thorns as if they were meadow flowers. He seemed as polished as that morning, except for a shadow that disappeared into his shirt collar — a light burn down his neck and shoulder.

“Your shoes,” he said, holding up three pairs of leather sandals that were tied together with black ribbon. “And your lovely eyes.” He put the beads into one of Rebecca's hands and folded her fingers over them as he stepped back. “I would stay to see the unveiling, but I'm afraid that other duties call. I'll come to you again as soon as I have time. Good luck.”

Rebecca slipped the glass pearls into her mouth and swallowed them dry. She fought to untie her blindfold while her brother and sister watched, Megan's pointed chin resting in a bed of Shawn's hair.

The fabric left lines on Rebecca's cheeks and forehead, and as she blinked, she rubbed the marks with her palms.

“They itch,” she said in a small voice. “I bet I look awful. And I can't believe that you …” she trailed off, sniffing, and then threw her arms around Shawn's neck. Megan petted her hair and Shawn patted her back until she'd finished drying her eyes on his shirt.

“I missed you,” Rebecca said, struggling to explain herself. She snatched the bundle of shoes from Shawn, still wiping her nose against her wrist, and began to undo the tight double bow.

 

Erika came down the stairs as Jegud opened the door. He touched the brim of his top hat in salute and gave a final nod to Jeremiah before setting out.

“Where's he going?” Erika asked.

Jeremiah locked the door against the morning chill.

“To check on your children.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not that I know of,” Jeremiah said. “Things are looking up, actually.”

“Oh, are they?”

Jeremiah felt the edge to her voice and dropped a bow.

“You're right, Erika,” he said. “I apologize.”

Erika lifted her chin in a way that reminded him of his mother, or rather — Jeremiah checked himself — his stepmother, and he allowed that motion to distance him. Erika would be the next queen, he told himself, if he had anything to do with it. And he must have everything to do with it.

“Are you going out too?” she asked, noticing his coat and freshly polished shoes.

“Indeed,” Jeremiah said. “There's a great amount of work to be done before services dismiss. Courtiers to be flattered. Arrangements to be made.” He shrugged.

“What are you planning?”

“A party, it would seem. Only I'm not planning it.
That
is totally up to the council, and they'd better hurry because it's set for tonight. Your invitation just arrived by word of mouth. Jegud's mouth, to be precise, though he seems far from happy about it.”

“A party for what?”

“For introductions. The princes are bringing choices for the king's new bride. It is to be a royal ball in the traditional style. Pomp, circumstance, and courtly love.” He tipped his head to the side in mock feminine flirtation and covered the top half of his face with a gloved hand. “And masks, dear Erika,” he said, with a chuckle. “Just think of it — how fitting, how fortunate, and how perfectly ironic.”

 

Rebecca gloried in the return of her vision. She grew more and more thankful each time she avoided a root or low-growing tree branch. Shawn was relieved to see her happy again, even if it made her unusually chatty, and Megan was thrilled at how quickly tensions had disappeared since Uriel had come and gone. As far as Megan was concerned, Uriel was their new savior.

When the man appeared a few yards ahead of them, leaning casually against an old birch tree, Megan squeaked with excitement and dashed toward him. Taken aback, he staggered away from her out-flung arms. She froze, realizing her mistake, and pulled herself together to stand stick-straight in front of him.

“Who're you?” she asked.

His gaze drifted to her brother and sister, who were jogging to catch up with her.

“My name is Jegud,” he told her. “But who did you think I was?”

Hand pressed against her chest, Rebecca stopped short of Megan and tried to catch her breath.

“Who's been here?” Jegud asked.

“Nobody.”

“Jeremiah,” Shawn said. His eyes flicked to his older sister. He prayed that she followed his lead; they owed more to Uriel than Jeremiah.

“Jeremiah,” Rebecca agreed. “God, I'm out of shape.”

“You haven't seen
anybody
else?” Jegud pressed.

“Nope.” Shawn put his hand on the crown of Megan's head. “Should we have?”

Jegud hesitated. “No …”

Shawn tried to relax, but his palms were damp from nerves. “Then everything's fine,” he said, forcing a smile.

“It took me forever to find you,” Jegud said with a frown.

“Jeremiah told us to keep moving.”

The prince made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat. “That would be his advice, wouldn't it?” Then he focused in on the three siblings again. “Look,” he said, “do you really want to see your mother?”