Oh. He’s trying to fight the cathedral fire. How adorable.
I reach into my bag of supplies and pull out the second-most important thing—a heavy iron pan. I climb onto the edge of the fountain and wait, poised. When he straightens up to admire his handiwork, I strike.
The thud is very alarming. The pan vibrates in my hand, and he collapses into the water with a loud splash. I look around to make sure there were no bystanders. Someone’s going to come by to refill their firefighting buckets any second. I have to move him.
I have no idea how I manage to drag him out of the fountain. I’m gritting my teeth and sweating as I pull him into the nearest alley. We leave a conspicuous trail of water behind. I prop him up against the wall as best I can, then find a large vase of roses in a nearby window and put it in front of us, which somewhat hides us from view.
Theo shifts and wrinkles his nose. He’s starting to wake up and, undoubtedly, feel the pain. I pull out the third-most important thing in my bag—heavy twine. I tie his hands.
He squints at me in the dim light. “Vee? I told you to stay in the gardens.”
“Oh, did you?” I say.
The realization hits him all at once. He goes very still. Slowly, he looks down at the bindings around his wrists.
I stand up. I always appreciate the opportunity to have a height advantage.
“I took your sister,” I say.
He gives me a long look of disdain. “No, you didn’t.”
“She’s in the prison at the bottom of the catacombs,” I say. “I captured her from the gardens and sent her there. With the vide.”
I show him my bloodied hand.
“Right,” he says skeptically. “So if you’re capable of doing that, why are you talking to me? Why don’t you just—”
“Oh, I wanted to discuss your map,” I say. “And also the journal you keep in the back of your wardrobe.”
His face turns stony. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I lean against the wall opposite him. “Please, allow me to clarify. I’m talking about the map of the catacombs and the eight cities. I’m talking about the journal where your maman wrote down every detail of your childhood and discussed at length how disappointed she was to have you as her heirs. Would you like me to describe it page by page?”
He doesn’t. That’s very obvious.
“How angry would Verene be if she found out you were hiding all this?” I say.
He remains quiet, but there’s a muscle twitching in his perfectly chiseled jaw.
“Your sister’s entire rule is built on erasing every trace of your maman.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the last crucial item I stole—a chocolate that was sitting in a dish on the kitchen counter. I unwrap it slowly. “And yet, you insist on holding on to her things and making secret maps. What a betrayal of dear Vee’s trust.”
“It’s not—” He fumes. “Don’t call her that. And it’s not a betrayal.”
“Oh, do you not know what the word betrayal means?” I say through my chocolate. It means—”
“I know what it means,” he says. “It’s not a betrayal. It’s just information. Do you even understand how fragile our cities are? Things can change so quickly, and information is the difference between life and death. We can’t just destroy it all because it doesn’t fit with our ideals. You can’t possibly imagine what it was like when…” He trails off.
“When what?” I say.
“Never mind,” he says.
The chocolate has become a little sour in my mouth.
“When the person who makes the water dies, you mean?” I say.
The fact that he refuses to answer is answer enough.
“I can imagine, actually,” I say. “People must have panicked. They must have been terrified. And at first… you and your sister had no idea how to save them. How helpless you must have felt.”
He’s not looking at me.
“You’re right,” I say. “A city is a fragile thing. It all depends on one person, and no one ever expects that person to disappear.”
He’s eyeing his bonds like he’s desperately calculating a way out of them. I consider him. I consider his painstakingly drawn map of the catacombs and the path connecting each of the underground wells. I consider the puddles of water on the cobblestone between us and the elaborate fountain system all over Iris.
“Are you trying to build something in the catacombs?” I say. “Something that will let you get water from city to city? Why? You have the vide.”
“Yes, we do,” he says noncommittally.
“But anyone can control the vide.” I push away from the wall and pace. “You and Verene share the vide. But Verene doesn’t know about this other scheme of yours. Why don’t you want her to know?”
“I like having contingency plans,” he says. “Is that so wrong?”
“No,” I say. “If it was just a contingency plan, you wouldn’t go out of your way to keep it from her—”
He tries to leap to his feet and make a daring escape. I dive for my iron pan, but it turns out that my earlier whack is still doing its job. He’s so dizzy that all he does is trip over his own feet and fall on his face with a very undignified thump.
I stand over him, the pan in my hands.
“Why do you want to make a way to get water that only you control?” I say.
“You…” He squirms. “You’re misinterpreting everything. It’s not that I want another way. It’s just in case. In case we need it.”
“But why would you need it, specifically?” I say.
“Look, you tiny—miscreant—” He finally manages to get back into a sitting position. There’s dirt in his curly hair and stuck to his wet clothes. “I just want the city to survive. Is that so hard to understand?”
“Doesn’t Verene want the city to survive, too?” I say.
For a long moment, he’s quiet.
“Verene wants… more,” he says. “It doesn’t matter how much she has. She always wants more.”
I think I know what Verene would say to that. She would say that she’s a good person and that striving to do the most good—more than anyone else has ever done—is exactly what she should be doing.
“How did your maman die?” I say. “Did she really get sick?”
The question catches Theo off guard, and I see something in his eyes that I’m certain he doesn’t want me to see. Fear.
That’s all I needed to see.
“I’m—” He’s stammering, suddenly. “I’m not talking to you any—”
At last, he gets to his feet. I hit him in the head with the pan again.
He staggers but somehow stays upright. I shove him in the direction of the cathedral and herd him quickly through the streets. When he tries to run, I push my knife into his side.
“I know where your sister is,” I remind him, urging him along. “I’ll tell her everything.”
The fire is getting worse. The double doors are open, spewing smoke. People have stopped approaching with their buckets. They’re just gathered around the mess, so frantic that I manage to push Theo to the front of the crowd without really being noticed. He’s just barely staying on his feet.