Page 11 of Deadly Maiden

“Youknew? Was today a test then?” I frown as I walk through the process he taught me. I join up the logic, aiming to draw a conclusion, then I dodge the final step. Itcannotbe that. “What did you know and why? Is this to do with my parents?”

“Yes.” His own smile is rueful. “Once I say it all, you will understand. We will sort out what to do afterward. And I have one thing for you that I saved. In the lockbox beneath the floorboards there is a key to an inheritance I hoped you would never need.”

I am speechless. I stand there with the trees swaying and swishing in a rising wind. Damp leaves scoot past us.

“I felt the ghost in that ampoule.”

“Yes. I assumed so.”

“And you won’t say more?”

“Patience.”

“Fuck me,” I whisper. He’s lied to me my entire life and now demands patience?

“Wyntre!”

“You’re angry. I swore, and you’re angry, but I have good reason to be angry also!” I draw my hands over my face. “Sorry. I will trust you.”

“Thank you. I wasn’t angry, just a bit shocked. You’re my daughter, still, and I’m having trouble with this, too. I hoped to spare you this.” He pulls one of my hands from my face, and I lower the other.

I haul in a breath. Now thathoped to spare youpart, it was not reassuring.

“At least say something about that ‘gun’ as you call it. Yes? While we walk.”

“Very well.” He ushers me forward, and we continue onward, as if this is nothing more than a normal stroll. “Gheist pistol or gun. It is called that, yes. The Aos Sin mages have been researching how to make an object launch itself at speed toward an opponent using a device more compact than a bow. Whatever they did, it succeeded. I heard the rumors and decided to try to replicate this. I was handed a leaked document, a diagram, and I used that. The power source is scarce and hard for most to gather, but…”

I absorb what he is saying, but I’m running through what this means too. So Landos is copying the magetech. For a fae who always preached caution at me…why has he done this?

Curiosity? Need? I cannot imagine why.

“I was going to show you how to load the ghost into the crystal, but I was sidetracked.”

I nod. Almost but not quite necromancy.Hmmm.

“Can you show me now?”

“Here?” He sighs. “I will show the principles.” He lowers his pack, rummages in a pocket and holds up a small steel cylinder the size and shape of a fingertip. “This goes down into the tube, the barrel. The crystal is topped up with the concentrated essence of ghost, and when this…” He jiggles the curl of metal under the tube. “When the trigger is pulled, it causes compression of the crystal which releases energy. Andthatpushes the bullet of metal from the barrel.”

“And?” I frown at the pistol. “That is damaging?”

“It can drive a bullet of steel or brass through inches of rock, or through timber, or…I assume it could kill. This essence of ghost contains a variation of etharum, and they’ve named it gheist. They used to call it getharum, because its substance is related to the etharum used in most magik.”

“Okay. Tell me more? How does one pull it apart? What piece does what?”

“Curiosity. I like that. Let’s keep walking while we discuss this.”

Ghosts and gheist, getharum and etharum. My head spins. War and killing, always we fae seek better ways to kill. Maybe Landos truly was an assassin?

The rest of the way back to Bollingham, I ponder how this can be worth the bother when getting one ampoule of gheist is so difficult. Easier to hack at someone with a sword or a dagger. Or one could use a bow or a crossbow. A mage with a staff could do far worse, or so I have heard.

If today is a test and I failed it, would Father ever have told me my origins? I’m not sure I can be happy at my party this evening. While everyone singsHappy Birthday, I will be thinking and wondering.

That doom is still out there, waiting to pounce. Ridiculous as it is to think this.

Who were the people who made me?

He will still be my father, no matter what I learn. There is flesh and there is blood, and there is Landos. He kept me safe, taught me, helped me grow into what I am—a good and kind person.

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