Page 32 of The Lies We Conjure
“Luna’s right,” I say, rounding the desk.
“Of course I am.”
I pointedly place my hand on the page, thumb neatly aligned with the blood-marked print. Immediately, the paper warms beneath my skin, like wax over a flame. The signature swirls, sharpening into five lines.
I clear my throat. “The first clue is this…
“When breath became air,
the mountain stood tall with forever frost.
Though the call of the falcon
and flick of salmon fin, did not dim the fires,
we worship.”
“Who wrote this clue?” Kaysa asks, perhaps trying a tad too hard to appear engaged after their disappearing act. She knocks her sister’s arm. “What the hell does that mean?”
Lavinia frowns. “I think it sounds poetic—a bit like Dickinson, actually.”
Making a left-field comparison to poetry is somethingIwould do in literally any other situation. It’s practically my secondary aim in life given I’d been named after a smattering of Callum Hegemony’s favorite poets.
“It would if it were written by the man who built the manor,” I confirm. “Shadrack Hegemony and Emily Dickinson would’ve been contemporaries.”
No one counters my assumption that the clues are likely as old as the deed on the land itself.
“So we need to think like someone who would be more than two hundred years old at this point?” Infinity asks, slightly stricken, their meticulous brain clicking forward.
“Oh come on, it’s notthathard,” Ada sniffs. “It’sobviouslyan Elemental clue. All the elements are mentioned, including life.”
“What does it mean, Hegemonys?” Hex asks.
All eyes seem to find Evander’s form beside me. I look to him too, our de facto leader. The would-be High Sorcerer. The Elemental patriarch.
Evander rubs a hand down his face, and admits, rather bravely, I think, “Honestly, I don’t know.”
There’s a beat of silence and then Hector shifts on his feet. “Well, one of you must know,” the Cerise patriarch urges. “Surely.”
“The clue is full of signifiers,” I say. “They aren’t direct, but they aren’t completely opaque either. They were designed to help us locate these relics, not stand around second-guessing ourselves. It’s not a riddle, it’s ahint.”
“Okay, so what’s it hinting at?” Hector pushes. “Surely you have an idea of what it’s supposed to signify within your own home.”
When we remain silent, he gapes between all three of us. Winter sighs. “I’ve lived here nearly my entire life, and yet I’ve never seen the Elemental master, let alone any of the others.”
I nod, and Evander adds, “We need to think about it.”
“But she wants—wanted—us to find the relics,” Hector argues, almost to the room itself as if Ursula’s ghost is listening. “She wouldn’t have given us clues we couldn’t decipher.”
“They’re Shadrack’s clues, not Ursula’s,” Winter reminds him.
“She was High Sorcerer. She gave us a hunt worth completing. That’s it.” Luna begins to slowly rise from her seat, and Infinity immediately offers an arm. “If you don’t know now, let’s not start scrabbling for straws. It’s an hour past my bedtime and if my experience is going to be of use to any of ya, I need to rest. Infinity, help your grandmama to our room.”
I check the clock. It’s half past ten now. Very late for Luna and her century-old bones.
“Yes, you rest up, Luna,” Hector agrees, rising as well. The patriarch reaches into the interior lining of his coat, slips out a cell phone, and snaps a quick picture of the clue. Satisfied with his photograph after rotating it, he packs the phone away and tips his head. “The Cerises will begin our search immediately and report back in the morning.”
Evander moves to round the desk toward them and repeats the same concern he flung at the Blackgates. “Wait—please stick to the house. As I just explained, the grounds aren’t safe at night.”
