Page 18 of Kingdom of Locks

“Without a doubt,” Mama Gail said dryly. “I imagine the news hadn’t appeared by the time he left yesterday evening. He didn’t seem concerned then, and I doubt he’d be able to hide his reaction. But we can be sure he has better sources of news than we do.” She gestured to their sole window, a reflection of Aurelia’s own irritation crossing her features. “He spends his days out there, doesn’t he? In the world.”

Aurelia moved to the opening, leaning her elbows on the windowsill. Her eyes passed over the small patch of grassy ground that surrounded the tower, before the view was obstructed by trees. She had no window on the other side of the tower, but if Cyfrin’s information was to be trusted, the forest ringed their little clearing on all sides.

But then, how was any of Cyfrin’s information to be trusted? As with everything, they had no way to check whether he was telling the truth. No way beyond the enchanted news-carrying volume he kept in his study, of course. And they were very careful never to let him know they had access to that. Not that it covered such mundane topics as the geography of their little patch of the world. It just mirrored major news announcements from each of Solstice’s capitals. And that was a good deal better than the nothing Cyfrin usually told them about the world outside.

“He’s always said it’s dangerous out there,” Aurelia sighed, her eyes passing over the peaceful forest scene below. A fox slunk across the open ground, disappearing into the trees. “It sounds like he might actually be right.”

Mama Gail sighed as well, approaching with soft footsteps. “There are always dangers in life. But the world is not primarily a wicked place. He just tells you that in the hope it will keep you docile. Still,” she leaned her own elbows on the windowsill, matching Aurelia’s posture, “I can’t deny that this prison break news is alarming.” She made a face. “Not that we have much call to be alarmed on our own account, of course. Since no one can get in here apart from Cyfrin.”

“Except that the inmates who escaped all have magic, don’t they?” said Aurelia. “Do you think it’s possible they might be able to break Cyfrin’s enchantment and get in here after all?”

Mama Gail frowned. “Their magic would have to be very strong. And don’t forget what I’ve read in his notes about the powerful concealment enchantment over this whole place. They wouldn’t even be able to find us in order to attempt to break their way in.”

Aurelia was silent for a moment, thinking this over. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Are they all like him, do you think?” she asked softly. “Was the prison full of enchanters like Cyfrin, who’ve just been unlucky enough to actually be caught in their misdeeds?”

“I suppose so,” said Mama Gail. She straightened, clapping Aurelia on the shoulder. “Which is cause to hope, isn’t it? They were caught, which means Cyfrin can be, too. He’ll be made to face justice one day. You mark my words.”

Aurelia didn’t answer, her eyes still fixed on the lengthening shadows beyond her window. Her mother had been saying that for as long as she could remember. And she’d always believed it, because Mama Gail wouldn’t lie to her. If Aurelia was certain of anything, she was certain of that. But she wasn’t a child anymore, and she was starting to understand that there was a difference between intentionally lying, and simply being mistaken. Mama Gail might believe they’d be free one day. But that didn’t mean they actually would be. Or that it would be anytime soon.

A shiver went over Aurelia at the thought of spending her whole life in the tower, locked away until she was older than Mama Gail, her youth wasted, her future snatched away as surely as her past had been.

But no, she realized with a fresh shot of dread. She wouldn’t be in here forever. Because at some point, Cyfrin would decide it was time to claim the magic he’d stored in her hair. When that time came, things would surely change. If she survived the experience, which she didn’t assume she would, whatever his notes theorized.

And what would happen to her then? Did he have some further sinister plan to follow in case of her survival? Or would she be discarded like a broken pot, no longer of any use? That last thought was actually quite appealing. She didn’t mind being thrown friendless on the world, if it meant she could be out of the tower. And she’d never really be friendless, because her mother would never desert her.

“If we do get out,” she asked idly, “where will we go? Back to Albury?”

“Of course,” said Mama Gail brightly, seating herself and continuing the mending she’d been working on most of the afternoon. “That’s where our family is.”

“Your family,” Aurelia corrected. “Since my original parents are both dead now.”

She frowned as she turned the memories over in her mind. She’d been too young to be aware when the mother who gave birth to her died. But she did remember Mama Gail telling her, at the age of four, that her father had passed away. Aurelia could picture the other woman now, coming out of Cyfrin’s study with a somber air that had frightened the little girl. But Mama Gail had never adequately explained where she acquired the information. She couldn’t have read it in Cyfrin’s news-book. That tome only gave broad news, not specific details like individual people’s births and deaths. Perhaps Cyfrin had kept tabs on the family from whom he’d stolen a baby, and had made a note of their deaths for his own records.

“My familyisyour family,” Mama Gail said firmly, unaware that her companion was lost in memory. “Ambrose and Felicity will be all grown up now, just like you. You’ll like having a brother and a sister. And Gustav will love you as much as I do.”

She spoke with such firmness, Aurelia sometimes wondered if she was trying to convince herself as much as her daughter. If the idea of joining Mama Gail’s family was a reality rather than a distant—and likely impossible—dream, she would feel nervous about how they would receive the interloper who’d stolen their mother away from them.

“Plus,” said Mama Gail, “you’re forgetting your other brother.”

“Justin,” Aurelia repeated absently. She wondered about him sometimes, but it was hard to feel too attached to a brother she’d never met. Especially since Mama Gail hadn’t interacted with him much before her capture, and so couldn’t tell Aurelia a great deal about what he’d been like.

All such reflections fled from her mind as she saw a figure emerge from the trees down below. She pulled back from the window, but Cyfrin had clearly seen her.

“Ah. Honeysuckle,” he called, his voice tight and clipped. “My rope.”

Swallowing her distaste, Aurelia pulled her hair free of the intricate braid which was the only thing that allowed her to move around freely. In a minute, she had her tresses over the hook and out the window, Mama Gail helping to brace her as Cyfrin pulled himself up.

Aurelia steeled herself for further recriminations about her failure to find an easier way for him to climb up. But Cyfrin didn’t say a word about it. It was apparent from the moment he slipped through the window that he was in a foul temper, and apparently the matter had been driven from his mind.

“Took you long enough,” he snarled at Aurelia. “You should have your hair unbound before sunset in future. No reason for me to wait around on your convenience.”

Aurelia shot a tense look at Mama Gail, hoping the other woman wouldn’t leap to her defense and set Cyfrin’s back up further. But although her mother’s lips were pressed into a thin and disapproving line, she held her peace. They had both been prepared for their captor to be angry.

“Well, let’s not waste more of my time,” snapped Cyfrin. None too gently, he buried his fingers in Aurelia’s hair, muttering his usual incomprehensible monologue. He fell silent after no more than a minute, stepping back.

Aurelia turned in surprise, gathering her hair protectively. “So short today,” she said, without thinking.

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