“Where is he?” Jilly shouted. She darted off the steps. “Where’s my Phelep?” Her eyes were raw and wild. “What happened to him?”
“And Bran?” asked Joayne. The older woman’s face paled. She trembled on the steps. “Did he . . .? Where is he?”
Miguil reigned up the wagon. He looked at his feet. Avena squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Jilly and Joayne, I’m sorry, can we . . .?” She swallowed the painful emotion choking her throat. “Can we talk in private?”
“No,” Jilly said, shaking her head with violent jerks. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “He’s not dead. My Phelep wouldn’t abandon me. Us!”
Joayne seemed to flow off the porch. She took Jilly by the shoulders. The older woman’s eyes grew liquid as she whispered something. Then she turned Jilly away and took her inside. Avena climbed off the wagon in a swirl of her dark-brown skirts. Ōbhin leaped down after.
Jilly’s sobs led the way. They passed the others on the porch. Kaylin, the older cook, had a confused look on her face while Hajina held her hand, a fierce anger burning in the younger cook’s eyes. Plump Layni reached out a hand to Jilly then pulled it back. Layni clutched her clasped hands to her breasts, looking stunned.
“Is it Dyain?” Kaylin asked. “Is he hurt? I haven’t seen him today.”
“He’s fine, Kaylin,” Hajina said.
Ōbhin glanced at the cook. She looked around like she didn’t know where she was. Dualayn had removed her mind and put it back in her body, damaging her in some fundamental way. Sometimes, she knew her husband was dead, other times she looked for him. Only in the kitchen did she have any normalcy.
And she’s losing that, Ōbhin thought. I won’t let her stay here. No one should ever be around that bastard.
In a small sitting room off the main entranceway, Jilly broke away from Joayne. The young maid faced Avena and Ōbhin. She rubbed her hands together. She looked frail, made of spun glass. So delicate, a single touch would cause her to shatter. Joayne wasn’t much better. Bran’s mother squeezed her hands tight together. Her knuckles grew white.
“Where is he?” Jilly demanded. “He went with you. He told me he was doing that.” Her gaze shot past Ōbhin. “Right, Fingers? You, Bran, Dajouth, and Phelep all went after them.”
“Well . . .” Ōbhin glanced back to see Fingers standing in the doorway. Avena had revealed her suspicions of the man. Now that Ōbhin knew, he could see the resemblance between them in the ears, a hint in the brows.
Fingers cleared his throat and said, “You see, Jilly, Bran, Dajouth, and I went with them.”
“No, Phelep had to have gone,” Jilly said. “He wouldn’t have abandoned me. He loved me.”
“He did love you,” Avena said. “This isn’t easy to explain, but . . .”
Jilly weathered the truth that her husband had been dead for over a month. That she’d been sharing a bed with an impostor for sixty or more days. Joayne collapsed into a chair when she learned her son had been killed, his body buried along the lake.
“Dualayn’s associates murdered my husband so this monster could replace him and guard that piss-soaked roach?” Jilly demanded at the end. The fragility vanished. Fury brimmed in her face. “The Brotherhood stole away my child’s father for that pathetic piece of dog excrement?”
“Yeah,” Ōbhin said. “We wanted to tell you, but we didn’t want to reveal what we knew. Not until we could understand it. We were trying to protect everyone.” That piece of dog shit included . . .
“I’m sorry!” Avena said; she moved close and went to hug Jilly. For a moment, Jilly looked about to rebuff Avena, but then she relaxed and the pair embraced. “I promise you, Jilly, Ōbhin and I will look after you and your child. And you, too, Joayne. We’re so sorry. We didn’t think No One would kill anyone else, let alone your son.”
Joayne nodded as she sat on the chair. “He liked the ducks, you know,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “He’d have liked being buried by the lake and . . .” She swallowed. “I think I need to lie down.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Ōbhin nodded as she passed.
“And what about him?” Jilly asked. “What punishment will Dualayn receive? What justice will I find for my husband? None! He has powerful friends. They’ll protect him. If I brought this complaint to a magistrate, they would laugh at me. He’ll be free! Him and this monster and that Black-cursed Brotherhood!”
“For now,” Ōbhin said. “They’re getting away with it for now.”
She shot him a look. “You could kill him. Right now! Just cut off his head!”
“Maybe,” Ōbhin said. The darkness swirled in him. He had found his way out to the light, but it would be so easy to fall into the Black again.
A rap knocked on the door. “We should begin the procedure so you can vacate my house.”
Ōbhin turned to face Dualayn standing unapologetic at the door. Ōbhin was finding standing in the light to be difficult. In the dark, you didn’t have to care about right or wrong; you could just act.
*
As Avena and Ōbhin followed Dualayn to his lab, her father pulled her aside. She paused as she stared up at his face. It was the first time he’d approached her since their conversation in the ruins. “Can you give us a few moments?”
Dualayn sighed. “Fine, fine. We’ll be downstairs. I have to get things ready.” He glanced at
