But as much as I want to take charge after feeling so utterly helpless the past twenty-four hours, I stop, look back at Dorian. “Am I even remotely close to finding the Sindaco’s office?”
“Well…” Exaggeratedly, he rubs his chin with his finger and thumb, as if considering I might be close. Then he drops his hand, shoves it in his pocket. “No.” He leans in. “Not close at all.”
He’s being playfully cocky, which makes me want to laugh, but I don’t have it in me. It’s becoming a theme, Dorian making me smile and laugh. I like it.
Nico does—did—that too, but I suppose that’s over now. Our friendship, years spent side by side, our kiss, it might as well have been a dream. Maybe it was.
“But,” Dorian continues, “the Sindaco’s not in his office.”
I place my fist on my hip. “How do you know?”
“Well, it’s Monday, and he spends Monday evenings in the map room preparing missions for the week.” He says this like everyone knows this information.
“Map room?”
“Mmm hmm…”
“And are we close to this map room?”
“Yes.”
“So I was on the right track. Just a little … misguided.”
He eyes me, holding back a smile. “Misguided … Yeah, if that’s what you want to call it.”
“Yep.” I slow my pace. “But, just to be fair, you should lead the rest of the way.”
He throws a crooked smile in my direction. “Never thought you’d ask.” He pivots and makes a sharp left.
“And in this map room,” I start, “would there, by chance, be a map of, oh, I don’t know, the Lower?” Sure would be handy right about now.
“Not a chance. No maps, no paper trails.”
Of course.
A few more bends and we stop before a metal door. There’s an open padlock hanging from the handle. The door’s cracked open a few inches, golden lamplight spilling out into the tunnel.
Dorian makes an “after you” motion with his arm, but then steps in front of me. He whispers, “Are you all right?”
I just stare. He could be referring to about a hundred different things.
“Your grandfather, Nico, coming back here, it’s been a heavy couple of days.” I’m not looking at him, but when I do catch his eyes, he’s looking straight into mine. He’s suddenly all serious, no games, no jokes.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” I say, knowing I sound unconvincing. He crinkles his forehead like he doesn’t believe me, like he’s waiting for more. “I’m all right…”
“I’m not sure repeating it is going to make it true.” His words are gentle, his brow furrowed as he looks down at me.
I look up at him, meet his gaze. “Well … Okay … Not really. But for the first time in a long time, I’m not wandering. I’m passionate about something more than fishing—not that there’s anything wrong with fishing.” He laughs softly. “I mean, it’s going to be hard. I still have a lot to process, but … I’m where I need to be, and I know Poppy would agree. So … With that…” I stare at the door.
I take a breath, straighten my shoulders, and push open the door.
Dorian wasn’t exaggerating. In this room, which is really a medium-size cave, is a mural that extends nearly the entire length of the wall, a map of Bellona.
I know the Sindaco knows I know everything …
That Dorian sent him word of what happened, how I overheard their conversation about him being my father, and that we went back to the Upper. No doubt he’s heard about Poppy.
From this point forward, no more secrets. I’m so tired of lies and deception even if it is meant to protect me. Especially if it is.
I stride across the space right as he glances up from the papers scattered on the table before him.
If he’s at all surprised to see me, he doesn’t show it. He does stand. Places his palms flat against the rickety wooden table and then steps around it, pauses, and walks toward me.
I’m flooded with at least a thousand emotions at once. Questions of Why did you leave me? Force my grandfather to lie for you? Thoughts ranging from I can’t trust you to I’ve missed you all my life to You missed my entire life. But I try to force it all down. This is delicate. Something that should be eased into. Most of all, he’s a stranger to me. Someone I just met who hasn’t given me any reason to trust him.
We’re walking toward each other, set to meet in the middle of the cave. His steps are calculated, cautious. Mine are strong on the surface, unsure underneath. We both stop dead when there’s about a foot between us. But the distance is so much greater.
The Sindaco lifts an eyebrow and dares a glance. He must know I’m angry with him. That I know the truth he’s my father, that Poppy was killed. And if he doesn’t assume I’m upset by all of that, he’s an idiot or only concerned with himself, which is worse.
I catch his eye and blurt out, “You lied.”
So much for easing into things.
He glances away for a moment, then turns back to me. “I did,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”
I refuse to say it’s okay, because it’s not. I wait for him to continue speaking. He’s the adult. The Sindaco. The one who lied. I deserve answers not apologies. “It wasn’t right.” Again, he looks away. “But it was necessary.” He steps a few inches closer, clasping his hands behind his back. “Please understand that, Veda.”
My name, so familiar, doesn’t feel right leaving his lips. “I don’t understand. Not really.” Maybe not at all. I look away, cross my arms over my chest, hold tight. “Why did you send me to be raised by Poppy?” I ask, my voice monotone. Robotic.
“Please, can we sit?”
“I’d like to stand.” Somewhere behind me, Dorian shuffles his feet or kicks a bit of gravel or sets down his lamp. I’d forgotten he was there.
“Of course. And Dorian?” The Sindaco motions behind me.
“He can stay.”
The Sindaco nods. He breathes deeply in, then back out. “I loved your mother. I loved her more than there are stars in the sky. More than life itself. When she died, I lost everything. Don’t get me wrong, I had you, thank the Moon, but … I wasn’t strong enough.” He shakes his head, emotion softening his voice. “I wish I could have been. I did the best I could at the time. But for that—for not being stronger—I’m truly sorry.” He pauses. “The reason I sent you to live with your grandfather instead of keeping you here was to protect you. The less you knew, the safer you’d be. Whether I was right or wrong, I’m not sure, but I stand by it. I knew you’d be loved, well cared for, and that you’d be raised with empathy and compassion, that you’d be taught valuable skills. Mostly, I was certain you were safer up on the island because your connection to the Night was undetectable. Your identity was safe. What I didn’t foresee was the Imperi, that they’d turn to such ruthless lies and destruction. That I’d have an even harder time convincing you of everything when you returned here. So, you see, I may have physically left you, but, in my mind, never truly. It was always my intent to be reunited.”