Page 135 of The Lies We Conjure
The ghostly bust pauses, eyes focusing on her audience, as clever and spry as in life.
I know what’s coming next. Still, it’s a shock when Marsyas gazes out at us with those sightless eyes, no longer amused and ornery. They’re accusing.
“My truth is this: I have taken my own life.”
Even though I understand her endgame—destruction of the Four Lines, destruction of all of us—a pang of guilt still chimes in my gut, unbidden but undeniable.
“To those hearing my truth, know this now: my death was an act of self-defense and should not be punished.”
Auden squeezes my shoulders, and I tuck my cheek into the crook of his neck. His pulse a steady, calming rhythm. This boy I met two days ago—who I lied to because of this woman who is dead now before us—is the anchor I have in what is real and not. Still, my heart breaks as Marsyas’s truth unfurls.
“It must be said that this outcome was a decade in the making. The day my son, Marcos Aurelius Blackgate, was executed at the hands of Ursula Elvire Muscatel Hegemony, High Sorcerer of the Four Lines, was the day I chose this path. A path that had only two possible ends when I began it: with my death, or with Ursula’s. My destination wasn’t control, it was revenge.”
Auden exhales as if he can’t believe it. A truth that provides answers rather than fuel for more endless questions.
“I plotted alone for almost ten years before I pulled the others in. Luna, who knew it was a coin flip between Erasmus and Marcos for who took the fall for Ursula’s three-pronged grief. Hector, who would do anything to squeeze more from Marcos’s death than his own survival and a never-ending stream of guilt to compound the furnace of inadequacy that drove him. But they were never my partners. Those who lived when my son did not were as much my enemy as Ursula.”
The rabbiting of my heart slows as the inevitability of what comes next falls into place.
“The plan we agreed upon was simple. Take out Ursula at the very beginning of her traditional speech. I would exit the moment she prepared to speak, a red herring on the outside, two marks left on the inside. Disposable, non-magical decoys.”
That confirmation burns all the way down as it plops in my gut.
We’re the marks. But we also survived this long.
“Luna didn’t care for power; she simply wanted her master relic and an exit. But the moment Hector saw what was truly at stake, the plan began to dissolve. He was blinded by vengeance and accessible power, eager to right a wrong that he’d been born with. By the time I’d returned to the game as agreed, he had unshakable designs on holding the High Sorcerer title. I immediately stole the Celestial relic, and when I found Hector bargaining to hold the Elemental master with Winter, I knew he had to die.”
Hex punches out a breath, from his spot on the ground. Ada’s head lolls. Winter is stone-still as Infinity turns to look at her, even as they don’t abandon their embrace.
Evander and Auden both want to ask but it’s the patriarch who does it. “Win, is that true?”
Tears pool in her eyes as Winter nods, her whole face crumpled together, shoulders quaking. “Yes. I thought giving Hector our master would just end it. Without violence or bloodshed. I meant it when I said I didn’t believe it was worth it. Evander, don’t—”
What she tries to say next is cut off by Marsyas, her truth still marching on.
“But Wren beat me to the confrontation, and was enough of a distraction that not only was I not able to snatch away the Blood master, but I couldn’t gain the Elemental relic either, as Wren had stolen it to activate Ursula’s spell and protect herself. Winter must have heard the commotion, came back, and found the mess. She heard the Cerises’ soul’s truths. I will admit, I could have tampered with their shrouds right away but did not, hoping the remainingwitches would finally condemn the imposters I had hired, which would give me more time to set up my final push for vengeance.”
Auden’s arm tightens around my shoulders. I squeeze my sister’s hand.
“I wasn’t going to be happy with control, I was only going to be happy with annihilation. Of Ursula, of all the Hegemonys, of the other High Families. I wanted to leave here with my granddaughters, and scorched earth. Instead, I will leave as ash.”
I think that’s it, but the projection’s gaze finds Ursula’s body, Marsyas’s gaseous lips pulling into a cavernous Blackgate smile as storm clouds crowd her dark eyes.
I imagine her seeing red.
“I will end my truth by telling you that when I reached for the Death essence within the body of Ursula Hegemony, I connected with the last minutes of her life.”
Auden inhales sharply—surprised.
“Ursula knew what I had planned. She knew for months. I do not know how she knew, only that she intended to address it head-on and would have if the poison had not done its work. She’d meant to out us, punish us, and leave our successors to take over—this was precisely why she demanded two generations at dinner when she’d been lax before, especially with my own line.”
Evander’s green eyes flash between Auden and Ursula’s corpse. He nods to himself, jaw flexing.
The soul’s truth continues.
“Ursula knew it was a gamble to confront us instead of chaining us up the moment we arrived on site, but she wanted to surprise us, shame us, and keep the Four Lines intact for younger generations. She truly believed she was doing good work, rooting out bad behavior, but it was her iron fist in leading the line that led to her life’s biggest tragedy—and the final road for both of us.”
That’s the last word.
