Page 50 of Thorn Season
A chill gripped me.
After almost touching those dullroot glasses, I’d questioned whether staying at court was worth the danger. But even in the ear-ringing aftermath, I hadn’t come close to leaving. Because with the way these Huntings were accumulating, it wasn’t just my own life at risk.
“This is their shortest interval yet,” Tari said, alarmed. “The Hunting on the Jacomb estate only happened a few days ago.”
Garret wavered. Then he said, with reluctance, “The copycats didn’t target the Jacomb estate.”
At first, I didn’t understand. Then Garret’s words from Capewell Manor drifted back to me.Briar was called away on business tonight.
The night two dozen Wielders had been Hunted on the Jacomb estate.
My stomach churned.
I’d foolishly assumed—no, I’d wanted tothink—the copycats had orchestrated that mass Hunting. Because if the Capewells hadtargeted those Wielderswithoutthe compass...
“Your father didn’t turn them in,” Garret said, yanking me from sinister thoughts. And though it was still awful—heinous—I felt impossibly relieved that Father hadn’t sentenced those two dozen staff members to death.
“A citizen had started talking,” Garret continued, speaking low. “He used to work at the Jacomb estate. He saw plates arrange themselves in the kitchens, wheelbarrows drifting uphill with nobody to push them. The stories reached court. Erik couldn’t let the rumors fester without taking action, especially with the ambassador arriving. So, he ordered us to deal with it. There may have been twenty Wielders among the group, or two...”
“But you didn’t have the compass to separate Wielders from Wholeborns,” I finished darkly. “So, you killed them all.”
“I wasn’t part of that Hunting group, but yes. The employees were rounded up that night and executed the next day. Their deaths were quick,” he added, as if that made it better. As if the Capewells hadn’t tortured Keil’s sister for a month.
Garret had claimed that the Capewells were the kinder of two evils, and I’d selfishly wanted to believe him. I’d wanted to believe that Father’s actions had yielded death without violence. That Garret, in his twisted way, had been merciful with his blade.
But now, realizing that if Keil had kidnapped me one day later, he could’ve savedtwo dozenWielders from the Capewells’ hold... I felt myself buckling under the terrible weight of grief.
I wondered if this was how Father felt all the time.
“This is Daradon,” Garret said, devoid of feeling. “Wielders will always have to die. Find the compass first, and you won’t have to be one of them.”
Then he stood, grimacing at whatever injury must have still been plaguing him. I hoped it hurt like hell.
“We’ll schedule a date to review your progress.” With a glare at Tari, he added, “Don’t get her caught.”
Tari made a rude gesture at his back. As he slammed my door, I did the same.
15
When I was seven, Father had spread a card deck face down on his desk and said, “Pick one, but don’t turn it over. Now—do you want to see the card?”
I nodded. Then Father took the card and shuffled despite my protests.
“Does it bother you, my girl? That you’ll never know which card you chose?”
I paused and, for the first time, wondered about myself. Ithadbothered me.
“I know how you like to Wield your specter,” Father said. “Unlocking doors, sneaking biscuits when the cooks aren’t looking.”
“I don’t mean to be bad.”
“I’m not angry.” Father patted my little hands. “All children make mischief, but not all children are like you. You can’t expect to get everything by Wielding.” I pouted, and Father spread the cards again. “We’ll do this until you no longer want to turn the card over.”
“But why?”
“Because you must learn the art of control. Though youcanturn the card, it doesn’t mean youshould. You must think before you act, or you could get hurt.”
“They’re only cards,” I grumbled.
