Daylight hours had come and gone; aggravating neon from a broken light sputtered and flashed outside of the Central District Library, creating such a glare from one of the side windows that Vallian, sitting on his stool, crossed his arms on the desk and put his head down to spare himself the headache.
With his eyes closed, he listened to Delilah as she ran up and down the aisles of bookshelves making whispered chitters to mimic the noise of a bat flying through a cavern. Her footsteps had slowed considerably, less energetic than they had been earlier in the day, but still enough to make the books shudder when she zoomed past. There was no doubt in the librarian’s mind that the girl was pretending to be a bat, a childish defiance at the idea of being denied one as a pet.
Vallian sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his thumbs, slowly lifting his head up. Considering how empty the first floor was (aside from the regulars who were used to Delilah’s antics), Vallian had no reason to be overbearing on Jovie’s niece and he certainly had no intention of reeling Delilah back in a way that would only make her more defiant at the idea of sleeping earlier today.
He wasn’t expecting any other visitors to come barging in through the front door, which was a blessing in itself, but he was expecting the sound of a door slamming open from the back most part of the library.
And Vallian knew, based solely on the muddled chittering that accompanied the noise, that there would not be good news today.
He didn’t have to lift his head to know that Jovie was walking towards him. He could feel the presence of celestial energy growing closer, like electricity that restlessly weaved inside of storm clouds. “How was your meeting today, Jove?” Vallian called without turning around.
Boots clacked along the wood floor, the only response to his question as Jovie, from his left, approached, paused, and leaned against the edge of a wall. The additional noise of pawsteps—alternating with the clicking of hooves—also stopped like a dog trained to heel. “Maribyss and Droidell activity is higher,” was all she said.
“How high are we talking?”
“Seventeen captures in the last week and a half. Maybe more. Adrienne said that some of the Cardinals were complaining that the Scarlet King was throwing a fit over the fact that he missed a good chunk of them. A couple ran north. Some managed to get to Caea down south for shelter. The remaining few ran to her in Goldsboro far out west.”
It was odd referring to the other Vessels by name. Vallian almost felt like he should be addressing them all by their sacred titles, but Jovie hated hearing the terms about as much as she hated being chosen, and he wasn’t about to risk formality for the sake of being glared at by both Jovie and her celestial companion. “And how did our western belle come across that information?”
“Through our mutual informant. Battered and bruised as she was, at least Daphne was coherent enough to give a decent report. She’s supposed to travel back to Elnoire in the next few days just to keep her post, but Adrienne wants to have her temporarily move for her own safety.”
Vallian shifted nervously on his feet. He recalled the slip of paper he’d been shown earlier, the scribbles that he’d seen scratched onto parchment. The one that he quickly denied. “Elnoire was never exactly a safe town to begin with, Jove. Daphne has better luck in Sombrail.”
There was a bit of a pause before Jovie scoffed and said, “Don’t be biased.”
“I’m not being biased. I’m being truthful.”
“Activity is still high no matter where you go in Droidell, Val,” Jovie said, tugging at her denim jacket to fidget with a pin she’d hooked onto one of the pockets. It clinked against her nails in a way that made Vallian agitated and he had to force reminders into his head that it was, in fact, the sound of a pin. “Cardinals are making their way through every town. Flamburr just got hit with a raid two days ago—I’d be shocked if the other small towns like Chrome or Grimmshollow didn’t get swathed with them, too.”
“The Droidell activity doesn’t shock me considering the fact that it’s Jax’s main base of operation—the other three are just satellites from what I’ve been able to gather from the people we’ve given asylum here. But Maribyss … that’s surprising considering how quiet things have been on the southern front.”
“Is it? Because it isn’t to me. Aside from up here, there’s higher concentrations of Scepters and half-sights down south. Great Migration. Remember?”
Vallian moved only his eyes to stare at his companion, observing her through the irritating, translucent pale blue cipher floaters in his eyes (either his or Jovie’s; it was hard for him to tell at the moment). From a glance, he knew Jovie was stressed—he’d learned to read her signs well before Soma had chosen her as a Vessel, back when she still worked full time at the local clinic. Her pensive frown and the crease between her dark brows were all he needed to know that it wasn’t so much anger or frustration as it was worry.
Which was always half the problem.
Jovie worried too much about news she couldn’t do anything about.
“I remember,” Vallian said. “I also happen to remember telling you—on multiple occasions—that you need to be more focused on what you can change, rather than the things you can’t.”
“We can change those things, though,” Jovie insisted. “If we’re smart enough.”
One of Vallian’s eyebrows quirked, and he turned to face his friend. “I don’t think it’s a matter of being smart, Jovie, I think it’s more a matter of being welcoming.”
The Scepter frowned; as if in response to her mood shift, even Soma (who Vallian could only see in fragments of stardust) huffed a little, sending a nervous prickle across Vallian’s skin. “I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean,” Jovie said.
“No matter which way I tell you, you’ll hate the explanation.”
“I’ll hate it more if you don’t tell me. Trust me, I think I can come up with pretty bad implications on my own.”
“Gathering people to rebel against the Vultures is a solid plan on its own,” Vallian said, drumming his fingers along the desk, lazy and calm, “but actually getting people to join is where we seem to be failing. Considerably. And the ones that are helping aren’t very keen on the idea.”
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His friend shrugged. “Point taken.”
“And I haven’t even started talking about your warm and welcoming personality—”
“Vallian,” snapped Jovie. “I’m not in the mood today.”
Vallian raised his hands in mock surrender, though he spoke more genuinely. “Alright. Fine. But I am right. You don’t exactly scream ‘warm and fuzzy,’ Jove.”
“Delilah would disagree with you.”
“Delilah is also six and idolizes the hell out of you.”
Jovie’s lips twitched into something that was half a smile and half … something else. Something wistful. Something not quite happy, and Vallian knew better than to press the topic. He knew how much it pained them both. “Speaking of,” said the Scepter, “where is my firecracker of a niece?”
“Knowing her? Demolishing a stack of books that I just neatly put away. Almost certain of that—she did that four times today while you were gone. I’m just shocked she hasn’t come charging to tackle you by now unless she’s tired herself out and fallen asleep somewhere. She might be with Maylene in the science fiction section—Delilah likes hearing about space stuff and Maylene usually helps out and reads to her when it gets particularly busy.”
“I doubt she did that much damage while I was gone. Or, at least I would like to hope she hasn’t done that much damage while I was gone.”
Now there was a shock. Delilah? Not causing mass chaos? Vallian had to laugh. “Tell me you’re fucking with me.” Jovie snickered, the sound trapped behind her lips as she fought to hide her smile. Vallian, exasperated, clasped his hands together like one would while praying. “Please,” he begged. “Just—for once, Jove, humor me and just tell me you’re joking.”
In a rare display of humor, Jovie mockingly bowed her head and extended her arms in a small flourish. “I like to imagine Del has some kind of self control. We’ve spent a lot of time talking about that together. Surely something stuck.”
“If she’s anything like her mother,” Vallian said, “then you’d be sorely mistaken.”
All levity slid from Jovie’s face like water swiped from a glass surface. The phantom smile faded to a slightly downturned line and her attention slowly drifted to her feet. Even Vallian felt the discomfort sitting in his gut. “But,” he said quickly, eager to change the topic, “you should hear about what else happened in the time you were gone.”
Jovie ran her fingers through her short brown hair, holding what little of it she could in her hands behind her head. Vallian watched his friend stand up straight before she sidestepped something—Soma, he realized as a flutter of blue stardust scampered just out of eyesight in a manner that made his already dry eyes more agitated. The damn rabbit always seemed to know exactly how to irritate his senses and right now even just the occasional clatter of her hooves was enough to make Vallian’s hackles rise.
He watched the Scepter pull up a chair and sit beside him at the desk while he leaned himself forward and turned to rub his eyes again. Soma made a small chittering noise, quiet enough to be heard by the two of them, but no one else.
“Tell me,” said Jovie in a whisper that meant business.
She was in Scepter mode now.
“Remember how I told you, many, many years ago that I felt strange being here because I was a lizard living amongst cave moles?”
“Yeah. I also happen to remember asking you why you bothered taking a job offer up here if it had made you that uncomfortable—you found your feet eventually, but I knew the transition wasn’t easy.”
Vallian cringed. “I … yeah. Well, I felt odd being the only one. And now I feel even weirder being one of three lizards in the caves.”
Jovie frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I had two come through today. Claimed Sight, but neither looked it.”
His friend said nothing, only stared at him with that piercing, Sighted gaze (for having eyes that looked like they were clouded over with fog, Vallian felt like he was being looked through and not looked at). In a gesture that spoke no words, she was urging him to continue, evident in the now present lean in her posture. At her side, Soma appeared to be resting with her head on her forehooves, but Vallian could hear the intrigue in the creature’s low squeaks.
It was unnerving how much was shared between them as Spectacle and Vessel.
Vallian cleared his throat. “One of them claimed to be able to hear Locht.”
The mention of the name garnered a low rumble of disapproval from the jackalope and Vallian felt the distinct urge to flee.
Jovie’s knuckles were whitening along the grip she kept on her knees. She bowed her head, the veil of her brown hair briefly obscuring her face. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the Spectacle’s anger or if his friend was just that stressed at the idea that he might have made a mistake in turning the Drodiellans away. “What did they bring?”
“A letter from Daphne—don’t huff and puff like that, Jovie.” The Scepter tipped her head back and groaned and Vallian stood up straighter, feeling the slightest bit defensive. “Daphne always signs her correspondence with a specific key phrase,” he said. “It was missing. At that point, anyone could have written it and imitated her handwriting, and I’m not about to call you away from something if it doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Did you check?”
“Of course I checked,” Vallian hissed, keeping his voice low. “I didn’t see anything. No cipher. Not like how it looks on you.”
“What else?” pressed Jovie. Beside her, Soma made a low sound that was almost a growl. “Anything else that might have been important enough?”
“They arrived on goats—apparently Alaric lent the animals to them.”
“And what? Alaric’s faith in their claims wasn’t enough for you?”
Vallian was starting to lose his patience. He tipped his head back with his eyes closed and ran through the messy cowlicks in his hair, gripping some of them before dragging his palms down to cover his face. Absently, he tugged at his necklace, the gold chains jangling a little in a way that was both grounding and nerve inducing. “Tell me honestly, Jove,” he said. “Have you ever seen someone not present with Sight and be capable of only hearing the Spectacles?”
“Not personally,” Jovie said, “but I’ve read and heard some of the claims.”
“Which have never been verified. I don’t trust it; it’s not how cipher works!”
Her head snapped towards him, pale eyes burning with the intensity of a fire. “Don’t tell me how cipher works. I can understand lying about the Spectacles, but I refuse to believe that people would lie about Locht. The Evershadow is not a being to take lightly, Val. You should know that.”
Vallian winced.
“You’re absolutely positive they’re from Droidell?” she asked.
“Chromians are very open books,” said Vallian, fidgeting with the stamps and cards to calm his nerves. “The two-colored eyeballs say it all—generally. Not everyone from Chrome is born that way but about eighty-five percent of the population has some kind of color difference between one eye and the other—Where are you going?”
“To find the people you should’ve told me about in the first place,” Jovie said sharply, pushing to her feet. Soma, too, scrambled to her paws. In an instant, the blurred form leapt onto the Scepter’s shoulders, the large blob where her hindpaws should be situated on either side of Jovie’s neck and then thinner parts where her forehooves should be were crossed atop Jovie’s head. “Where did you send them?”
The motion nearly made Vallian sick. “Jove, it isn’t—”
He stopped in his tracks when Jovie turned to face him.
Soma’s form was visible now, if only badly blurred like he was looking at an old photograph, and both of Jovie’s eyes were a bright, piercing turquoise color.
His friend was not there.
It was him and the Spectacle now.
“Where have you sent them?” demanded the creature using Jovie’s lips.
“Western District and Central District border. Millie’s building.”
Jovie—Soma—said nothing, only nodded and left, and Vallian felt it easier to breathe when the doors closed behind them both.