Page 88 of Only Cold Depths
Wendell straightened up and rubbed his hands together. “Well, let’s test the mercenaries’ theory and see if any of these stones work. What do you say, Vesper?”
I froze, not sure how to respond or why my heart was suddenly pounding with a mix of worry, dread, and longing.
Wendell’s eagerness dimmed like a solar light that had used up its charge. “That is, if you want to. I understand if you don’t.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve already taken up enough of your time. I should go check on Beatrice.”
He forced a smile onto his face, then backed away and headed toward the workshop door.
“Wait!” I said.
Wendell stopped and looked at me. I wasn’t sure what had prompted me to call out to him. Maybe it was that tremulous spark of hope still flickering in my chest. Despite my best efforts to keep my distance from Wendell, that spark was burning brighter and stronger than ever before and was threatening to flare up into an actual flame of forgiveness.
“I would like that,” I said in a tentative voice. “To work on this. Together. With you.”
Wendell perked up with fresh enthusiasm, and he rubbed his hands together again. “Then let’s get started.”
He went back over to the table, picked up the lunarium magazine, and placed it on the holoscreen. Several scans popped up, and Wendell flicked through the holograms, muttering to himself.
I had done those same things a thousand times before when I was working on a tricky design. My pounding heart slowed, soothed by the easy familiarity. Wendell turned to me, that eager look still on his face, and I found myself getting swept up in his contagious enthusiasm.
I still didn’t know what kind of relationship I wanted to have with my father, but this was a start. I just hoped for once that I was putting my trust in the right person—and that Wendell wouldn’t break my heart like Nerezza always had.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
VESPER
Wendell,Asterin,andIworked the rest of the morning.
Even though I thought sapphsidian was the key to stabilizing the hand cannon, I helped Wendell test all the other gemstones. I wanted to make sure sapphsidian was the only thing that might work, and my theory was correct. All the other stones failed, and every simulation ended with the lunarium and solar wiring in the magazine overheating and frying the hand cannon after a few blasts.
After we finished the final test, Wendell frowned. “We’ve tried all the stones, but I feel like we’re missing something.”
Asterin gave me a pointed look, and I shook my head at her again.
“I don’t think so,” I lied. “Maybe Esmina and Pollux stole something from the mineral exchange that wasn’t on Leland’s list.”
Wendell shrugged, letting it go, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Asterin’s tablet chimed with a message. “Aldrich, Verona, and Beatrice are ready to return to the estate. My presence is requested,” she muttered. “Beatrice is also asking about you, Lord Wendell.”
“I’ll catch up with you,” he said.
Asterin looked at me, another silent question on her face. I nodded, and she left the workshop, shutting the door behind her.
I faced Wendell and crossed my arms over my chest, as if the simple motion would shield me from whatever he was about to say.
His gaze traced over my face, and a small, sad smile played across his lips. “You look so much like your mother.”
Shock punched into my heart. Not what I’d expected him to say. Even more surprising was his gentle, almost wistful tone. Everyone knew Nerezza, but no one had anything good to say about her. Even if she hadn’t abandoned me, I still would have been ashamed she was my mother, given how she used and manipulated people with her social engineering ability.
“You’ve probably wondered how I met Nerezza,” Wendell said. “What our relationship was like.”
“The thoughts had crossed my mind.”
That was the understatement of the century. When I was a kid, I’d constantly wondered who my father was and especially why he wasn’t around, but Nerezza had never answered any of my questions. Neither had Liesl.
“You probably know Miriol, my wife, Zane’s mother, died shortly after giving birth to him. That was a very dark time for me.”
Wendell’s shoulders drooped, and he grabbed the table, as if he needed its support to hold himself upright. Even more telling, a wave of heartache and longing washed off him, but I didn’t need Kyrion’s telempathy to know Wendell had loved his wife very, very much.
