TRISTAN

I rolled my eyes and shook my head as Monty went on about the barmaid he'd been flirting with the night before. I glanced at Reinier's entourage in time to see fractured shards. I blinked hard, thinking I was seeing something else. The masses parted just enough for me to get a better look, and my heart stopped.

The young man who sat across from Reinier was beautiful. He was trim and handsome with a clean-shaven face. His long dark hair was tied back at the nape of his neck with a satin blue ribbon that braided through the tail. His posture exuded the confidence of aristocracy.

I wanted to punch him.

And then maybe kiss it better and give him a reason to smile. My loneliness needed addressing. It was probably a good thing that we would have to move on in the next week or so.

But it wasn't his looks that drew me to him. It was his aura. His shining, beautiful, broken aura that hung about him, shattered into a million pieces. Shards shivered with insecurity and fear. It didn't match the haughty and bored indifference given by the tilt of his chin.

Neither did it match the overlay of another aura that shimmered over the shards, hiding those thoughts from a cursory glance. That constructed aura of boredom should have been enough to hide the real thing from my own view, but my magic had picked up those fractured pieces as if they were screaming, begging for attention.

A beautiful woman dressed in a fine airy day dress of light greens and golds and a cute little matching hat approached the open carriage and accepted a guard's help up the step. She took the seat beside the young man and placed her arm through his. Topaz and sapphire glittered in her blonde hair, and an intricate necklace of matching stones lay as the centerpiece just above her breasts. He looked at her and offered a polite smile and nod as relief and lust shimmered across the shards, dancing to the forefront.

I dragged my eyes and senses away from him and to the woman who had joined him. She was surrounded by the soft pastels of familiarity. A flicker of trepidation and sorrow skirted around the edges, almost completely hidden by a deep blue confidence.

She was a proper aura reader. I wouldn't have noticed that subtle flicker had I not been looking for a reason to hate her. Then again, she was in the company of Reinier. That was more than enough reason. It was a fraction paler than what my sister's had been.

I looked back at the man, wondering how someone could endure such damage to their soul. What happened? How long ago? Who or what was the cause?

And why hadn't I come across anyone else with a similar aura? Most Crypt Orphans had trauma etched so deeply across their auras, it was hard to miss. They were worn down and frayed, but this was something else.

His attention left his companion, and his eyes met mine. I didn't bother to hide my stare. Nor my displeasure. Everyone else was staring at the carriage, so why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I lean fully into hating my mixed up feelings and let my charm announce just how irritated I was?

His aura dimmed for a moment, and he quickly looked away, his bland expression not changing. The pretty blonde leaned in, her lips barely moving as she spoke into his ear, and he shook his head. Thankfulness and bits of a lie shimmered across the fractured shards. His false aura showed that he was thankful to her.

I felt marginally better that such a broken soul had a companion by his side to ease the pain. I tugged my magic away, and his aura shifted to the one that looked normal. Nothing of what I had seen remained. There was boredom and a general sense of unease.

I looked away, and the auras of various people in the crowd popped in and out of my vision. It was annoying when my magic grew restless.

It wasn't like I could sit it down and explain that now was not a good time to practice any sort of spellwork. It would have to be satisfied with aura hopping for now, even if the lightly flashing colors threatened to give me a headache.

Monty and I had stopped to grab a basket of fruit on the way back to the boarding house. Our lack of decent information deserved a fresh treat. Neither of us felt like we'd been very successful, but we were prepared to relay who and what we had seen.

I was careful to give a better description of the blonde and her nice jewelry. It came with a healthy dose of teasing and Monty's additions on just how nicely the dress clung to specific curves.

"I don't get it." Mr. Almers's frustration was palpable as he shifted through his correspondence with Base. "He was supposed to be at the Arlotto mansion. Not hanging around the square."

He tossed a crudely drawn map of the mansion's interior on top of a blueprint I had nicked from the city records. I frowned as I compared the map to the blueprint. Most of the detail was centered on a small study in the center of the mansion. A hastily jotted note on the side mentioned the garden or cellar would also be viable locations. Locations for what?

Olwen pushed the blueprint aside and set about peeling an apple. "Guess he got bored of the empty house and wanted to sneer at the lowly masses."

"Well, he better stay put tomorrow," Mr. Almers snapped. "We got word of what room he's in, and—"

"He's staying in a study?" I asked, looking up from the mansion's layout. "There's a bunch of other rooms. Nicer rooms." Why in the Mallou would Reinier lower himself to staying in a tiny, windowless room?

"Protection would be my guess," he replied. He sat back with a heavy sigh. "A window would make this whole thing a lot easier. Hopefully, we find him in the garden. That'd be quick and easy."

I frowned up at Monty in confusion. I didn't like where this conversation was headed.

"Reinier'll be in the high market tomorrow," Mr. Almers continued. "A brooch from the royal family has surfaced, and he's here to collect."

I knew the brooch he spoke of. King Ogden's grandmother had commissioned it as a wedding gift. It was a beautiful piece of small diamonds that surrounding a large opal. I never really liked it. After hearing from Granny Milla about her mother-in-law's spiteful distaste over her son's engagement to a lesser noble, I liked the piece even less. It was a show of power and wealth, so the perfect fit for Reinier. He could keep it.

It had no magical value so why in the Mallou was Reinier after it? No, I knew why. It was just another trophy of his conquest.

"I know you're excited, but do you honestly think he'll be going around with less guards?" I said with an incredulous scoff. "He had a small army with him today. Even after they pushed most magic users out last week, they're still prepared for anything. That shop's gonna be under guard tonight, too."

"Tristan's right," Olwen said, stabbing at her apple a little harder than was necessary. "There's no point in stealing the brooch from under his nose. Maybe if we knew what he was after a month ago. Mal, a week ago!"

Mr. Almers shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding looking at us. "We're not stealing anything, and… And we're not just watching," he quietly admitted.

Monty looked up with interest. "Change of plan?"

"Watching him now was never the plan. This is something of a kidnapping."

I had never heard anything more stupid. I stepped back from the table and crossed my arms. "We're going to kidnap him. Right. I think I'll have a better chance just running up and stabbing him in the neck with a butter knife."

"It would certainly have the element of surprise," Olwen said with a slight smile.

"Not Costanzo. His son," Mr. Almers said as he pulled out a folded piece of paper and showed a pencil drawing to us. "Vincent Reinier."

It was the young man I saw earlier. His face was begging to be punched without his broken aura to cloud my judgment.

I took the drawing and stared at it with a critical eye. "Seriously? He looks nothing like Reinier."

He was too handsome, for one. He was a disgustingly perfect example of a man. This guy had to be a double. A very poor choice for a double. The one he had a few years ago actually looked similar to Reinier. At least, until the double said something wrong and ended up with his guts painting the walls of a stolen seaside bungalow.

The man I had seen in the market had to be another stand in. Possibly an enticing bait-and-switch for the unsuspecting bride-to-be.

"From what we've managed to find out, he looks more like his mother," Mr. Almers said. He let out a wistful sigh. "Louisa Hollingsworth. A fine sorceress in her own right, but she died during childbirth. Some at Base seem to think her death is what set Reinier off."

"I don't buy that," I bit out. "She died twenty-five years ago, and he starts his rampage nine years later?"

If this man was the real Vincent, then his shattered aura made more sense. He was just another nobleman's heir, brought out for show like an expensive doll. Of course he would learn to bring his aura under tight control.

But the same could be said for a double.

Either way, I didn't like feeling sorry for him.

Monty nodded as he glared down at the drawing in my hand. "Reinier was a big name near my hometown. Both mages and normal folk went missing before that lady died. Knowing what we know now, you're really gonna tell me that was the work of a psychotic highwayman? I ain't never bought that excuse, and no one else should, neither. Might wanna take a close look at anyone parroting that sentiment."

Mr. Almers looked between us before sighing heavily. "Very well. I'll make mention of it to someone I trust."

"So what's our goal?" Olwen asked. "A ransom? Information? What are we getting out of this?"

Mr. Almers gave Olwen a little smile. "A lot of money, but not from ransom. Someone else seems to have their eye set on young Vincent. They've been sending payments along with intel to Base." He set a small stack of bills on the table. "This is the latest installment, and most of it's gonna go toward your travel accommodations."

Olwen picked up the stack and flipped through it, her scepticism slowly fading. "That's… That's a lot. It's all real?"

He nodded. 

"And you're sure this isn't a trap?"

"If it is, they know where we are," he replied with a shrug. "They've had a full day to raid us. Mal, they've had months to raid other safe houses. Nothing. I even risked going by the Arlotto mansion. No suspicion. Not even that many guards. Just told to stop lollygagging and staring. Guards ate my local yokel act right up."

Olwen and I shared a doubtful look as Monty counted the money. I looked back at Mr. Almers. "I dunno. This seems riskier than anything else we've been asked to do."

"Base has been looking for anything to throw Reinier off," he said as he took the drawing from me and shook it. "Taking this kid outta the equation is gonna cause a fair amount of chaos."

We each stared at Mr. Almers in shock. Olwen was the first to find her voice.

"Out of the… We're killing him?!"

I felt queasy at the thought. Sure, I had dealt in poisons before, but offing some random guy myself? Maybe if he was responsible for someone else's death, sure. I was all for revenge killing. Even if he was the son of the man who killed my family, he was just another bystander. This was getting to be a bit much for me. Hopefully, we would just have to hand him off to someone else to finish the job.

Mr. Almers slapped the drawing down onto the table. "What? No! Weren't you listening? You're grabbing the kid and taking him to Lysan. The final payment is waiting there. The, uh, client has been a little unclear if this is actually a rescue mission, so that lends to the theory that this kid is an unwilling double. Or we could be delivering him to his death. Either way, you got enough time to make a decision and get lost or killed if needed. Roads are dangerous these days."

At least we weren't contract killers. Yet.

But Lysan? The only thing that place had going for it was its mines. It wasn't close, nor the easiest to get to. Having to hide out and keep low on the way there would take forever. No trains, no nicer hotels or inns in bigger cities. We'd be stuck roughing it.

No proper baths. No private bathrooms.

I would push for staying at Crypts. They were free and relatively civilized. And a lot more trustworthy and discreet than a random inn, especially when you added a Crypt Orphan into the mix.

"La'Bells… Base is using this as a distraction," Olwen said in realization. 

My stomach dropped.

"If we manage to grab Vincent," Mr. Almers said solemnly. "Things look like they're about to take a turn, we run. They agree that it's risky, but we haven't had a chance like this in years. If we miss out, we send our apology, and Base will wait for the next opportunity."

"Who's doing what?" I asked in resignation.

"You scope out the jewelry shop," he said to me. "You're the only one that won't look out of place shopping around for something nice. The rest of us will grab the kid from the mansion."

I wasn't the only one who wouldn't look out of place, but I was the one we could risk getting caught. If any of the Almers's got caught, the whole safe house would be gone and every last boarder who had ever stayed would be investigated. But if I was the only one hanging around the jewelry shop, and Reinier was running around with his son? What then?

We needed more people and more time.

"What guarantee do we have that Reinier's brat is gonna stay put?" I asked.

"Yeah… If you see him out with Reinier, you run straight to us. Maybe we'll get lucky later in the week before they leave town." From his tone, it sounded like he didn't think we'd be successful.

This plan was stupid. There was so much that could go wrong. I kept my thoughts to myself, but Olwen still gave me an apologetic shrug. She was probably thinking the same as me: It was all performative.

"Just think," Mr. Almers said with forced optimism, "if we manage to pull this off, that kid is worth more than just money."

Monty was busy stroking his scar and came to a slow stop. "This Vinnie kid has access to all of Reinier's estates. Probably knows the spells to get in, too."

And Reinier couldn't possibly have guards stationed at each and every one all hours of the day. A caretaker, yes. A handful of servants to prepare a location for his arrival, yes. But a small battalion for no reason? If there was a guard or two, then we would know that we found something. Perhaps he would even be so cocky to not have a guard, so as not to draw suspicion.

"And not just stolen estates that slipped our notice," I said slowly. "Everything he has squirreled away. All his spoils. Weapons."

Maybe something sentimental that I'd be stupid enough to grab up for myself. Even if I wasn't much for sentiment, I had next to nothing. Mal, it was too tempting.

"Exactly. The way I see it, we're saving this kid. He'll owe us," Monty said with a smile. It turned malicious and he lightly clasped his fist with his other hand. "I mean, might need to make the sentiment stick, but we can be persuasive."