“That’s what you got out of this?”
He struggled to his feet, ignoring the burning pain from his maimed foot, and staggered across the room to her.
“What is wrong with you? You act as if you have some connection to this House. Who are you? The daughter of a minor noble of the House who got herself pregnant from someone she wouldn’t even talk about. And then you left! You ran off to have your little adventures and left the rest of us here. Then, you only came back when Florian was dead, Celia was gone, and I was … elsewhere. Before that, you couldn’t have cared less about the House. So, don’t give me this high-and-mighty act now. It’s too late for that.”
He was panting from his tirade and his head swam. Jocasta stared up at him impassively, unmoved by his words.
“You’re useless,” he muttered and shambled back to the wall to sink down against it once more.
Silence fell over the room, until it was interrupted by the sound of laughter and running from the floor above. There was a thud, a cry of pain, more laughter and then silence again.
“What do you mean my mother got pregnant from someone she wouldn’t talk about?” Jocasta’s voice was quiet.
Thaddeus was suddenly ashamed of that part of his outburst. While the rest was true, Jocasta wasn’t responsible for her mother.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” he said.
“But you did. And I want to know what you meant by it.”
“We don’t have time for this—”
“Tell me!”
It was strange to hear such raw pain in the voice of someone as tough and stoic as she was.
“She went to Florian, when it happened. We were never a big family, of course, so she might not have felt there was anyone else. Plus, he was the Head of House. He never told me who your father was, but he knew. And then when you ran away, after your mother died, he felt horrible. You might not have been aware of it, but he kept eyes on you.”
“Why?”
“You were his blood. The daughter of a cousin, sure, but blood nevertheless.”
“How sweet of him,” she sneered.
“Yes, it was. And you could never see it.”
“And my father? You have no real knowledge, right? You’re just dredging this up to try to get to me?”
“No. As I said, I shouldn’t have said that. Some here can tell you that I have a habit of saying stupid things before I think them through.” He glanced at Melanie, who returned a raised eyebrow.
Jocasta fell silent, her glare remaining fixed on him.
“You have this obsession about our House crawling to Towering Oaks for some reason. I’m here to tell you that it wasn’t that way. Most members of that House think very highly of themselves and look down on the rest of us, that’s true. But you’re missing the fact that Florian and Jediah were true friends. They fell out for a time, then came through it. Jediah didn’t lord anything over Florian. Florian didn’t hide things from Jediah. They worked together for the betterment of both Houses.”
Jocasta snorted.
“Think what you want,” Thaddeus said. “It really doesn’t matter. Our House is in shambles. Maybe we can find a way to get it back. To do that, we need help. You think the other members of Subtle Hemlock, those still loyal to Malachi, are simply going to let us walk into the place and challenge him? Melanie can take out some, and I can take out others, if I have a chance to rest. But even we won’t be enough. We need more.”
“Then crawl,” Jocasta sneered. “Crawl to your betters and beg for their scraps.”
Thaddeus shook his head.
“Unbelievable. Your myopia on this is staggering. Especially seeing as how you’re very likely one of those scraps.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You really don’t get it, do you? Your father. Florian didn’t tell me who he was, but he did tell me what. He was from Towering Oaks. You have as many ties to that House as you do to this one.”
Chapter 72
“Well, that might have been the final leaf to break the branch,” Solomon thought to himself.
He could hear it in her voice, as if merely knowing how angry she would be with him for manhandling her wasn’t enough. But if he had to do it again, he would, regardless of the outcome.
Friedrich wasn’t going to hold the hunters back for more than a moment or two, regardless of his resolve. He was a good man, and brave, with deeper reserves than he knew, but he wasn’t a seasoned fighter. The hunters were going to overwhelm him and be in the chamber within seconds. The only reason they hesitated before that was because Solomon held the door against them, a natural choke point. Allowed to surround him, they’d have brought him down from all sides.
Like they would have Friedrich by now.
“It was our only chance,” he repeated.
“Our only chance for what?” Celia’s voice was like ice. “To save ourselves and leave them behind?”
“Yes. At least for now. They won’t kill Friedrich, or at least I hope not. They’ll take him, like they did the rest.”
“And we still don’t know what happened to them.”
“No, we don’t. I can only hope.”
He slowly climbed to his feet, examining the cave. It was familiar, yet quite different from the last time he was here. Then, it was full of items of magic and wonder, and he’d left Justice leaning against that wall, right there.
Now, it was empty.
The Guardian had left, taking all his treasure with him.
“We should go,” Solomon said, walking toward the open wooden door.
“Where?” Celia asked.
“Towering Oaks, first.”
“Why there?”
Solomon realized that she wasn’t following him. He stopped and turned to
