Page 63 of The Black Key

“I have to go,” I say. I want this night to be over. I want to sleep, to lose myself in blissful oblivion.

“Of course.”

I hold my hand out for the arcana to drop, but it stays hovering in the air.

“Violet?” Lucien says, and his voice is timid.

“Yes?”

“I am so very proud of you.”

The arcana falls into my hand and I clench my fist around it, squeezing it tight before setting off down the cold, quiet hall.

Twenty-One

IT IS SO STRANGE, BEING BACK IN THIS PARLOR.

I open the secret door, behind the oil painting of the man in the green hunting jacket with the dog at his side, and find Rye standing by the window, waiting for me. The room is dark, the only light coming from the moon outside.

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” he says as I shut the painting behind me. “After what happened today.”

“I told you I would,” I say. “And there isn’t much time left, anyway.”

“No,” he agrees. “There isn’t.”

We stand in awkward silence for a moment.

I’m almost afraid to ask about Ash, even though he’s why I’m here. Rye moves to sit on the sofa. I take the armchair by the window.

“Ash managed to contact one of our friends who wasn’t working at the time, a guy named Trac. Found him on the Row. You’ve seen the Row, right?”

I nod, remembering the sleazy strip in the Bank filled with cheap taverns and brothels.

“Trac’s been in pretty bad shape for a while. He drinks too much and cuts himself. He was probably gonna get Marked soon.”

Ash explained to me about Marking—if a companion fails to be perfect in every way, they are tattooed with a black X on their right cheek and kicked out of the companion house with only the clothes on their backs. All their earnings revert back to their madam.

“So,” Rye continues, “Ash told him all about you, and the Society, and the rebellion, and how things could change . . . how they already were changing. He offered Trac the chance at a new life, painted a picture of what was possible. He gave him—”

“Hope,” I say softly, my throat swelling up. “He gave Trac hope.”

Why was it so hard for me to see it back then, at the White Rose, when I brushed aside his desire to help the companions because it was too dangerous?

“Yeah, and it caught on like wildfire. There are tons of companions who hate their lives, as I’m sure he’s told you. And I include myself in that category.” Rye tugs at his curls. “I was killing myself with blue. Now, at least if I die, it might actually mean something. I won’t just be another anonymous companion overdose.”

I’m glad to hear he’s not using anymore.

“Then Trac got assigned to the House of the Light and I saw him at one of the thousand parties I’ve gone to with Carnelian.” Rye smiles, his teeth a flash of white in the darkness. “Ash told him to look out for me. He told him I should contact Coral’s lady-in-waiting. I didn’t get it at first, until I overheard you talking to Zara. It wasn’t even the sound of your voice so much as the way you spoke.” He throws his arm over the back of the sofa. “I guess you made an impression on me at Madame Curio’s.”

“I’m flattered.”

“We’ve been making contact with other companions in the Jewel, too. Ash is famous now.”

“I know,” I say, smiling myself this time.

“So it all goes down at the Auction, right?”

“Yes. You should talk to Garnet. He’ll be able to give you some advice about what to do.”