Feargus

Let's start this one off with a quick bit of goss:

Some of these next chapters almost didn't get written the way they were.

Originally, my plan was to make something up about how I did (or didn't) find Zacharias Vonsinfonie. And how I did (or didn't) do it with (or without) Everleigh Gloom's help. Everything else I've written? Entirely true, I swear on Rhian's life. But this? Look, I needed special permission for this, and getting it wasn't easy, folks.

But first, let's backtrack a bit.

After finishing my dinner at the Silver Spoon with Everleigh Gloom, she asked me to meet her on the roof of the Jaskar. By the time she met me up there, she'd changed out of her dress and into… well, I wasn't exactly sure.

"'Ey there," I said. "Why are you dressed like you're about to rob the general store?"

She pulled her hood further down, so the edge draped over the top of her black, eyeless mask. Her voice was muffled, almost unrecognizable. "It's my disguise."

"Why do you need a disguise?"

"I really thought you'd be more cooperative."

"Look, I'm not judging, I'm just—," I paused, giving her a twice over in her black tailed coat and flowing cape. "Actually, you know what? In all honesty? You look pretty slick."

"I know." Everleigh adjusted one of her leather gloves. "Let's go."

We took off through the city, keeping to the shadows and bounding from the rooftops. It was a great time, but it made me think of Rhian again, and I'd gone a whole hour without doing that by then. Anyhow—once we were out of city limits, I followed beside Everleigh at top speed, and this time we kept to the forests and the trees.

♪ Which one of us stepped on a branch. Not me, Not me. ♪

We ran for just shy of twenty minutes. Eventually, she slowed to a stop, neither of us the slightest bit winded. We peered out from behind some pines toward an old, dilapidated building. You lot know it as the schoolhouse-slash-tavern.

"Lidia's having a meeting tonight," she said, and the way she said that so casually and without explaining who Lidia was, told me she knew I knew who Lidia was.

"Here?" I asked.

"No, but we won't have long."

"To do what?"

"Follow me."

The front door was barely passable, and the first room we stepped in was a wide open space with what looked like bent and rusted music stands coming out of the floor. There was a stage, and what remained of some grey-purplish curtains.

Everleigh held a finger to the mask where her lips would be, and then she made a hand gesture, like giving someone a slow pat on the head. "Bring it down," I guessed, and I steadied my heart and slowed my breathing. She nodded.

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We tiptoed around backstage, and then down a set of stairs. At the bottom, there was a large silver-barred cage, enough to hold four or five people depending on their size. I won't lie, I clenched the whole way past thinking she might push me in, and I don't know if she heard me thinking it, or if she sensed me feeling it, but she turned her black mask in my direction and shook her head slowly, as if to say she was disappointed in me.

Sorry, lass. It'd been a week beyond comprehension, and even though my instincts were telling me she was all right—a touch strange and quite possibly a touch touched—I felt like I couldn't even trust myself anymore around that time.

We continued down a long corridor, walking quickly and soundlessly. The path twisted, and turned, and when we rounded the next corner, we bumped straight into a man who'd also been walking quickly and soundlessly. He looked past Everleigh in my direction.

So far, the Anima I'd been around had been pleasant enough. This was my first real exposure to one of the twisted, predatory sorts. His gaze triggered a niggling in my gut that was greater than any niggling that had ever niggled. Everything inside felt wrong, like my stomach was suddenly in my throat, and my throat was somewhere in my left knee.

Everleigh glanced over her shoulder, briefly, and then she grabbed the Anima by the neck and whispered something too quietly to hear. The man's mouth shot open, his body and his expression frozen for a full eight seconds before he disintegrated into dust.

♪ The quiet holds, the quiet keeps, sleep until sleep is thee. ♪

Before moving on, Everleigh held her hands up to her face, and I took the cue to mean she wanted me to do the same. I did, just as the air shifted around us. I peered through my fingers, and the lass was controlling tiny gusts of wind to scatter the ashes around so they weren't in an obvious pile in the middle of the floor. When she was done, they blended in reasonably well with the rest of the dust in the underground network. She also managed to do that without getting either of us dirty. So, she was a scarily good elementalist.

The same thing happened two more times along the way to our destination. Anima out of nowhere, death becomes him and her, again. Each time, Everleigh whispered that same speech before they dissolved into dust, their remains scattered just like the first.

Eventually, we reached a catacomb, the walls around us lined with drawers marked with names and dates. We stopped in one of the rooms.

"Down the hall, take a left, then a right into another room like this one. Four caskets. Three have real dead people in them. Be respectful. Zack's in the other. I have to go back and distract Lidia," she said, turning to leave. "Don't die on the way out."

"Wait, why do you want me to wake Zack, anyhow?

"Someone needs to stop her," she answered. "Someone needs to stop all of them."

And then, just like that, she was gone.

Down the hall and I took a left, and then a right. Four caskets lined up in the middle of the crypt. Number one, too plain. Number two, too ugly. Number three—no, number four, too small. Number three it was: the deep, mahogany casket with the shiny, golden accents.

For a second, I stopped to think: what was I even doing anymore? Aye, Faust wanted me to find Zacharias, sure. And both Ever and Ivana seemed to think things would be better if he were awake, and I did have so many questions, didn't I?

For instance: what do you call a group of Anima? I didn't know that yet.

I held my breath in the event I was wrong about the casket, walked around the perimeter and flipped the latches up. Moment of truth—

I opened the lid.

The man's arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were closed, but he wasn't decomposing, and I knew that finely tailored suit-wearing, honey-haired gentleman anywhere. What. A. Fox. A crystal-topped cane was tucked in beside him.

I wasn't sure how I was going to wake him up. V said the Anima weren't comatose when they slept, and when I asked Everleigh about it, she said, "You just do it." I thought about using the whistle, but I reckoned that'd be a rude awakening, not to mention, it would draw the attention of any Anima lurking.

I knocked on the side of the casket. Nothing.

I poked him in the shoulder. Nothing.

I gave his shoulder a little shake. Nothing.

Finally, I leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Wakey, wakey, Zacky, Zacky."

And, mates? I really wish I hadn't.

His eyes opened just as I was backing away.

I smiled.

He didn't.

Oh boy.

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