Eleven years ago

Eireann crouched down and placed the lanterns she had fetched on top of the books by her feet. She didn’t like the idea of placing oil lanterns so close to books, but so many had fallen off the shelves that it would take too long to clear a spot.

She cupped little Brody’s tear-streaked face, wiping away his cheeks clean with her thumbs. “Everything’s going to be okay,” she lied. Her touch eased his fearful shaking but his eyes seemed skeptical.

“We have to be quiet, so no more bad people will come.” Her youngest sibling tried to turn and glance at the hulking invader but Eireann kept her grip firm. She had not liked how the monstrous killer had stared at Brody.

“You know that game you want to play for your Deck Day? We’re going to do that once we get outside, okay?” She tilted her head toward the entry way that the Petravian had chopped open with his axe.

She didn’t know if this invader understood Mirelandic but figured that “run!” was a word he probably had heard before. So she made a vague reference to the massive hide-and-seek game that Brody had convinced most of the household staff to participate in for his tenth birthday next month.

Brody’s eyes widened and he nodded as he deciphered her message.

“All of us,” she lied again. Eireann made eye contact down the line with each of her four other younger siblings, making sure they understood they should run and hide. No one spoke but she read their firming of jaws and hardening of eyes.

Even Finn, last in line, accepted her suggestion. Finn, now sixteen, had started to exercise his role and authority as the heir to The Viscount of Airondale more frequently. But with their home crumbling around them and invaders in their midst, he was just a scared little boy looking to his big sister for answers. She nodded at Finn, suggesting that she had seen the best way forward.

As if running and hiding had a chance against a seeker with [Haste] and [Target].

Not that this monster would play games with them. She had never seen a Deck so focused, so devoid of fluff or personality. Once they reached an exit, he would kill them all with a mere thought. However he pretended to take them hostage, his Deck betrayed his real nature.

She had to kill him before that.

Once again, Eireann tried to draw his attention to her right hand and the dagger hanging by it. So that when the time came, she could use her left hand to grab her hidden knife and stab him while his focus was elsewhere. She had to kill him before he could notice and activate [Regenerate] or [Stone Skin] or [Blink] … or any of his Cards. Or before he could shove her or cut her in half with his sword … or anything physical with his sizable muscles.

If Mother was here, she’d tell Eireann just how small the odds were of her assassinating a seasoned fighter.

She had to try, though. They were all supposed to gather at the stables this morning for a trip to their country estates. But she had rerouted the kids to the library so that they could each grab a book. So none of the guards nor the mercenaries would know to look for them here.

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They had fled the room when the first rumblings in the castle had started. But by the time they had made it to the hallway leading to the courtyard and stables, the crumbling ceiling of the hallway made it an untenable path. Her [See the Unseeable] had highlighted the unbroken passageway down into the tombs so she steered them back to the library.

She had gotten them into this predicament and she would see them out. Would see him out. After years of societal conditioning, she knew without thought that Finn, as the heir, needed to survive. That she, a spinster past her prime, could be sacrificed.

With her in the lead, they shuffled their way down the stairway known as Lady Liandry’s Grief. Generations of O’Briens ago, a dowager had requested its construction, allowing her easy access to her late husband’s resting place. Their son had boarded up this tunnel after her passing, burying this constant reminder of mortality. Not that it had helped him.

She had discovered its existence while perusing the family history archives several years back. Would her Core ability have highlighted this hidden entryway if she hadn't known of it in advance? Was it “unseeable” because a bookcase has blocked the view or because it was boarded up? Would it have worked if it was neither? Even after all these years, the extent of her abilities puzzled her.

Perhaps she should join the Order of Cards instead of the uncertain wait for a suitable suitor. The organization typically recruited initiates with the third son or later from noble families. But it was not unheard of for young girls to join. Unfortunately, like marriage, she had aged out of the Order also. But perhaps a special dispensation could be made due to the relevance of her Core in the study of cards.

As she crossed the archway on the floor of the tomb, cobwebs wrapping around her face snapped her out of her reverie. She quietly removed them, hiding the motivation for her movements. The twin girls, Caitria and Caitlin, following behind Brody, would probably scream if they knew spiders haunted the tomb.

The chaos above had become increasingly muffled, as if in consideration for the last sleep of the dead. They proceeded in kind, maintaining a solemn silence, partially to avoid alerting the enemy but also as a sign of deference for the ancestors interred around them.

The barbarian following them showed no such regard, however, stomping heavily down the stairs to catch up to them. And without even a few seconds of respectful silence, he blurted out in Petravi, “We didn’t do this. We didn’t”–some word she wasn’t familiar with–”the castle.”

As if Petravians haven’t been doing exactly this, sacking towns and castles all along the border.

But why would he lie?

She doubted, with his single-minded focus on killing, that this warrior had received training in psychological warfare. And she had seen the Cards of her father’s men. None of them had the ability to do this. Neither did the Golden Hand, the mercenary band that Father had redirected her dowry toward. Besides, Father would not order the destruction of their beloved home just to spite the enemy.

Is there a third party? Is this barbarian suggesting a temporary truce with us?

She didn’t know how to respond so they continued in silence, the layer of dust on the stone floor hushing even their footsteps.

With calm contemplation, her conviction grew. This ogre wearing a man’s skin would turn on them the moment she led him to the exit. She had to stop him and give the others a chance to run.

Her lantern flickered and died, freezing their procession. Finn handed his lantern up the line and rested his hand on the dagger on his belt. She hoped he understood that her message to run and hide meant that he shouldn’t fight. Finn had been so proud at getting a [Sword Dance] Card several months ago.

Eager, almost to the point of wishing, that the Petravians would invade already so that he could use it on them. She realized now the mistake in having Finn bring up the rear and keep an eye on their younger siblings.