Nick turns away, rubbing a hand over his mouth.
“Nick?”
“I’m thinking. Just—” He shoves both hands through his hair.
“You don’t look surprised.”
A hollow laugh escapes him. “That’s because I’m not.”
I set my jaw. “I need your help.”
He’s silent for so long I think he might turn around and leave. Shove me out the door for real. Call security, like in the movies. Then he closes his eyes, sighs, opens them—and starts talking.
“Merlins are the Order’s sorcerers. Their affinity for aether is so strong they’re essentially supersoldiers. Trained from birth, assigned to posts, and sent on missions to hunt rogue Shadowborn, keep Onceborn populations safe, close Gates…”
My breath catches. A mission. “They never let us see her body. Could—could she have been attacked by a demon?”
Nick doesn’t look convinced. “A Merlin can detect a demon miles away, and even then, most are incorporeal isels. Visible to someone with the Sight, but not strong enough to cause physical harm. Onceborn deaths are extremely rare because they’re exactly what Merlins are trained to prevent. That, and securing the Code. If Onceborns ever knew the truth, there’d be mass fear, chaos—two things Shadowborn thrive on. No, this doesn’t make any sense.” His eyes darken. “Unless…”
A cold hand grips my heart. “Unless what?”
“Unless the mission went bad. The Code threatened. Merlins are authorized to do whatever it takes to keep the war hidden.”
I remember Sel’s cruelty with the boy at the Quarry. The near torture of the isel. His disregard for my wounds last night.
“What if she got in his way somehow? Or—or he failed and wanted to cover his tracks?”
When I look up, Nick’s expression holds disgust. Old pain, resurfaced. And a question.
Maybe the question. The one all the others have led to.
The one that changes everything just by the asking.
“Would a Merlin kill someone?”
He doesn’t meet my eyes. “I don’t—”
“The truth.”
He looks at me then, his voice iron. “I’m not a liar. Not outside the Code.”
“Would they?”
His eyes slide shut. A single nod.
Everything inside me burns. A furnace, roiling, turning. I draw my shoulders back and steel myself. “I know the date. The time. Location. If I tell you what he looks like…”
He spreads his hands. “There are hundreds of Merlins all over the world. Even if I knew every one, they won’t tell me anything. Each Merlin takes the Oath of Service to the High Council of Regents. They’re the ones that assign Merlins to their missions, and no Regent will speak to an outsider.”
“You’re Legendborn. Speak to the Regents on my behalf.”
A heavy sigh leaves him. “Technically, yes, but procedurally? No. I renounced my formal title years ago—very publicly. Upset a lot of people. I’m sorry, Bree, I—”
“I don’t care!” I shout, and close in on him until our faces are inches apart. “Let me make this clear. My mother is dead, and a Merlin might have killed her. At the very least, he hid the facts. I’m not leaving until I get answers. If you can’t help me, tell me who will.”
He holds both palms up. “I hear you. I do! But you’ll never get near the Regents.”
“Because I’m not in this—this club?”
“The Order is a strict hierarchy, all titles and ranks,” he explains in a voice meant to calm. “The Legendborn title is sacrosanct. They outrank Vassals, Pages, Lieges, Viceroys, Mage Seneschals, you name it. The Regents have all the functional control, but if a Legendborn makes a demand, they are Oathbound to comply. The Regents won’t answer to anyone less.”
“So I live the rest of my life without knowing what really happened?” The defeat on Nick’s face fills me with desperation. How can I be this close to the truth, and yet it’s still out of my reach? Fear is a tight knot in my throat, but I swallow around it. There has to be a way—
Outside, the massive front door swings open with a bang. We both freeze. Sarah’s voice, then another. Several feet enter the foyer. Laughter. Someone says, “Welcome!”
And just like that, a solution strikes down into my core. A path. A purpose. Lightning. Our Brave Bree.
“Why did Sarah think you were my sponsor?”
Nick’s eyes widen, a glint of fear in their depths. “Bree…”
“It’s the first week of school. Are they recruiting?”
Nick says no. Then repeats himself. But I don’t hear it: the idea is already coursing through my veins, hot and heady.
If the Regents won’t talk to outsiders, then I won’t be an outsider.
“It’s not possible.” Nick groans. “Even if it were, you’re the exact worst person to appear before the Regents.”
I raise a brow. “What does—”
“Listen to me.” He reaches for my hands, forces me to look at him. “I’ve been around the Order my entire life and I’ve never heard of anyone like you. An Unoathed Onceborn who can See aether and voluntarily resist mesmer, the Code of Secrecy’s greatest weapon? All of that means the Legendborn, the Order, and the Regents will see you as a threat, an anomaly. Something to be contained if not eliminated. Not to mention the Merlins. They’re an army dedicated to enforcing Order law—and Sel’s one of the most powerful Merlins in years. If it gets out he’s failing at his post here, it’s his head and future on the line. He’ll report you to the Regents himself, the Regents will put you on trial, confirm what you can do, and then disappear you. Now, please, we have to leave before—”
“No!” I yank my hands away, walking back toward the door. “The timing is perfect. All I have to do is go out there and confirm what Sarah already thinks she knows. Then I’ll join and become Legendborn. Easy peasy.”
Nick stares at me, incredulous. “That right there is proof you have no idea what you’re talking about. I was born into my title, but you’re an outsider. If I bring you in, you’ll only be a Page. You’d have to compete against all the other Pages to become Legendborn. The tournament lasts months, and all of it is rigged. It’s a setup to favor certain families, certain kids.”
“Kids like you, right?” I’m drunk on the idea now, the solution to everything. I jerk a thumb over my shoulder at the two paintings. “Your ancestor founded the damn Order. You’re the textbook definition of a legacy.”
He laughs bitterly. “A legacy I rejected. I’ve never even seen a tournament. Even if you do well in the Trials, there’s no guarantee you’ll get chosen at Selection. The other Pages have been trained to fight, they’ve studied—”
“And I’m pushy,” I retort.
A wry smirk tugs at the corner of Nick’s mouth. My heart is thundering so loud I’m sure he must hear it. He paces, stares at me, then paces again. Stops. “Say we do this. Then what? You join, find your evidence, and go? These people don’t let members just walk away for good.”
The fight in me is still there, but resolve folds around it. “The last words I said to my mother were in anger.” He flinches like I’ve struck nerves in multiple places. “If there’s even a one percent chance that she was…” I swallow hard. “Either way, I can’t let our fight be the end. And if you don’t help me, I’ll just find another way.”