Page 93 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

Wendy clears her throat, breaking our eye contact. “There’s something more… that woman who was taken? Isa? I remember her.”

My interest has been piqued, again. “What do you remember?”

“Ma and I used to visit her,” she mumbles. “I was trying to figure out why she’d be involved in something like this.” Her glassy eyes are glued to the blueprint. “But, um…” she clears her throat and looks up, “my mom kept a lot of journals. The words Isa, Freyr, and weapon came up a lot.”

Isa, Freyr, and weapon. They were all involved. The clarity of this finding is surreal. This is why Isa faked her death. She was running from punishment.

“You think they built the weapon?”

“Originally, yes. They thought they were doing something good.” Wendy looks down at her lap. “Just read these.”

Papers slide across the table to me.

They’re back. The two little girls, Marbella and Annabetha, I think, were killed by “mysterious” means. That means Arcane, even if no one is willing to say it. I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but if there was ever a time to prove myself, this is it. If I could kill one—or all—of them, no one could doubt me again. I’m going to Isa tonight. Freyr is the one with the greatest chance against these creatures.

Marbella and Annabetha. Cynthia’s girls.

We discovered something today. Something so… ahh! This is it, my path to acclamation.

“How old are these?” I ask.

“From a year before I was born.”

I read them once more. Then another. “Can I see the blueprint?”

When it’s in my hands, I examine it again with freshened ardor. There is no mention of what it does, or what powers it. Weapons need a power source, typically an orphia’s power, with some sort of generator that amplifies it.

Surely, if Isa, Freyr, and Willow were making a weapon to be used against the Arcane, they would’ve prioritized a power source first.

Only one thing is certain: I have to know what it can do.

* * *

I lay on Azaire’s bed, thinking about the day Lusia discovered Desdemona. If only she didn’t wear the gold, perhaps then I would not have been killed.

Perhaps Desdemona would not have killed.

I’m not ignorant, however. I know she was by the coast because of the body. After coming to me worried and racked with guilt there’s no way I couldn’t know.

I wish I didn’t see her with the moonaro. I’m glad I saw her with the moonaro—now I know for a fact that she is hiding something.

Though I fear I’m going to destroy the trust we’ve cultivated before I have a chance to find out.

“How’s Wendy?” I ask.

“Still avoiding me,” he says, staring down at the tome on his desk.

I put thoughts of the Gerner and the gold that led to my partial demise aside. Today is the day of the kickback Fleur had told me about. I came to Azaire with the single intention of dragging him with me.

I stand with a clap of a hand. “Then let’s party.”

“I don’t know…”

“What fun have we had these past weeks?” Azaire doesn’t answer. In fact, he tugs on his beanie. “Exactly! They’re going to be in the ballroom.”

Azaire turns slowly in the chair. “You haven’t hung out with them in a while,” he observes.

“Yes.”

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