Page 88 of The Black Key

“Violet?” Ash asks again.

“Wait here,” I say. “Please.”

I open the door wide and leave Ash behind, knowing he’ll listen to me, knowing that even if he doesn’t understand why, he trusts that I’m asking him for what I need.

I step into Lucien’s workroom and the memory hits me like a blow to the stomach. The clocks on the wall tick casually, unaware that their owner is never returning. The books, the papers, the beakers . . . all of it is as it was that day Lucien showed this place to me, back when I was Imogen and Coral was still alive.

My gaze lands on the easel in the corner and I let out a tiny cry, somewhere between a gasp and a sob. The picture Lucien was painting, the one that was just the outline of a girl. The one I thought was of Azalea.

It’s me.

Lucien has drawn my face in perfect detail, right down to the little point of my chin. I’m looking slightly to the left, smiling in a way that is at once sweet and mischievous, like perhaps I’m about to do something reckless. My hair tumbles over my shoulders, and my eyes . . . he got their color just right. I see tubes of various shades of purple scattered across his worktable.

I gaze at it, guilt and grief and love warring inside me. The tears are falling thick and fast and I don’t bother to wipe them away. My head spins and my legs weaken, so that the room swirls in my vision and I know I’m about to collapse.

A pair of strong arms grabs me, pulling me upright. Ash’s familiar scent is like its own embrace, but it only makes me cry harder. The weight of this whole day crushes me and I sob until there is nothing left to cry. Ash doesn’t say a word. He just lets me get it out.

Finally, I straighten up, gulping for air. I smile at him blearily and he wipes the tears from my cheeks.

“This place is . . . incredible,” he says. “And so very him.”

I swallow hard. My hands snake down his arms, gripping his wrists. I look around the room one more time. “He told me to destroy it. If we lost. He made me promise.”

“Well,” Ash says. “I’m glad that’s one promise you don’t have to keep.”

The exhaustion hits me again, and suddenly all I want is to be with my sister.

“Let’s go,” I say. But as we turn to leave, my eye lands on something shiny. The copper spring that Lucien was toying with when he talked to me about his wall of clocks, the one he unwound and tossed aside on the table. I pick it up and slip it into my pocket.

Then I take my arcana out of the door, and Ash and I and walk back to join our friends and my family.

Twenty-Nine

WE BURY OUR DEAD THE NEXT DAY.

The Royal Palace has become the new headquarters for the Society of the Black Key. People started filtering in yesterday at sunset—servants, Society members, friendly Regimentals, Paladin. Sil came with her group after “making neat work of that damned wall,” as she put it. Sienna followed later, and I was so relieved to see her I hugged her tight and she actually hugged me back.

Ochre arrives in the morning with a group of boys around his age, and Hazel and I tackle him, falling to the ground in a mess of hugs and laughter and tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the Society?” Hazel asks, punching him in the arm.

“I did!” Ochre protests, holding up his hands to block her. “You didn’t believe me.”

“Wait till you see what I can do,” Hazel brags.

“Is it like what Violet can do with water and stuff?”

“When did you see that?”

“I’ve been part of the Society for ages, Hazel,” he says importantly.

“Stop it, you two,” I say with a wide grin, wrapping my arms around both their shoulders. “I’m just happy we’re all together again.”

There is a meeting that night about what to do with the remaining royals. Many, as Lucien had said, want executions across the board. Others, like Sil, insist the royals should pay with hard labor.

Finally, an agreement is reached. A tribunal will be set up, with representatives from each circle present, and the royalty will be judged for their crimes.

I sit apart from the main crowd, with Ash, Raven, Garnet, Ochre, and Hazel, an idea chewing at the edges of my mind.