Chương 48: Chapter 47 - Loose Ends

With Northrop's judgment taken care of, we decided to go back to the mansion.

"I would loathe for them to worry themselves needlessly over what I might be doing," Northrop said. The sarcasm was back in his voice and stronger than ever. Since I had technically absolved him, I refrained from pointing out that, considering everything he had done, maybe they had a right to worry. We climbed over the short wall and crossed to the front yard. The crews were still bringing out boxes and furniture.

Iset stood on the front porch, telling each person where to go and which pieces of antique furniture were valuable or delicate enough to require a place on the tarps that had been laid out. The boxes had been crammed with so much stuff that you couldn't close them, even if you'd wanted to. They were all neatly lined up and wide open. Kappa bounded off to sniff at the misplaced objects. Whenever a stranger got too close, he hid. Darius was standing off to the edge, talking to two men. Cosmo Uhler was one of them.

I liked Cosmo, so I wandered closer. When I was only four feet away, I realized that the man whose back was to me was Owen Ashworth. On any other day, I might have turned and gone somewhere else, but my energy gauge still read zero, and, frankly, standing beside the superhumanly attractive Mr. Ashworth didn't feel all that threatening anymore. Maybe my complete lack of hygiene and the smelly corpse that was keeping me company would nullify the weird obsession he had with learning about me and my powers.

As soon as Northrop and I were close enough, Darius called to us.

"Where have you been?"

"I've been keeping out of your way," Northrop said.

"I didn't think you'd object." Darius's eyes shifted to me. I tried to look innocent.

"I was with him." The vampire kept watching me. It was the innocent look; I could never get it quite right. A million years later, he finally looked away.

"Please stay in the yard, Mr. Northrop. I'd rather not have to hunt you down." The not-so-subtle tone in Darius's voice would've caused any sensible person to instantly discover how much they agreed with him. Northrop must not have been sensible. He answered with his own tone—one that can only be described as Colossal Smart-ass.

"I could never forgive myself if I was to put you to so much trouble, Agent Vasil! Of course I will stay here—beside you, if you'd like." I stared at Northrop in awe. With a performance face that polished and solid, I never would've guessed he had such a raw and honest side if I hadn't seen it for myself. Darius probably had no idea that it existed.

"That won't be necessary," he said.

"If you stay in the yard, that'll be fine."

"By your leave, then." Northrop wandered off to look over the boxes. I stayed with Darius and the torrmen. The torrmen were both standing with a subtle slump to their posture. When no expression was called for, their faces were slack with exhaustion. I don't know how Cosmo was still standing, and Ashworth was as handsome as normal, but he wasn't as shiny. I almost laughed. Here we were! The Burn-out Squad.

"Miss Cole," Ashworth said while trying to sound cheerful, "you've made it through another adventure." Gosh. Without that shine, I could almost look right at him.

"Yup. And I'll bet it's thanks to you guys."

"Oh, I did my best, but it was Cosmo here who cracked the case."

"Thank you, Cosmo," I said. The witch blushed and nudged his glasses even though they were already at the top of his nose.

"I'm glad you're okay, Emerra." That blush. I grinned at the man, and I didn't even care that Ashworth was watching us with a calculating look in his eyes. Darius said, "You two gentlemen should head into town and get some rest. The driver who took Reynell and Mrs. Park is back." Without another word, Cosmo nodded and turned toward the fleet of cars. Ashworth stood there for an extra second, considering Darius, the cluttered yard, and me.

It's possible he was debating if he should stay to do a bit of nosing around—it must have been tempting—but even a sorcerer can only fight exhaustion for so long. He said goodbye to us, warned me that he would see me later, then followed Cosmo. Someone came and stood beside me while we were watching them go. I turned. It was Olivia, looking as aloof as ever.

"I'll bet I have to thank you too," I said.

"I know you worked hard." No one had to tell me that. If Olivia had been there, then she would've been helping, and the only way that girl knew how to work was hard. Olivia scowled, but a faint pink shade bloomed under her freckles.

"Whatever," she said.

"They needed you way more than they needed me." That was a profound moment for me. It wasn't every day that I was acknowledged by Olivia Oliversen! Before I could faint from surprise, I was distracted by the sharp sound of glass breaking. Darius, Olivia, and I turned. Northrop was standing over a box a few yards away, holding the frame of an ornate silver hand mirror. There were mirror shards at his feet, and he looked pleased with himself.

"Hey!" Olivia stormed toward him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Darius sighed through his nose and rubbed his forehead. What had that poor vampire been putting up with while I was fighting off zombies? Northrop smiled and spun the mirror frame while holding it loosely so that it turned in his grip.

"Taking my life in my hands, Miss Witch." He passed her the frame.

"And now it's dealt with." When I saw Olivia pale, it felt like a cold hand reached into my chest and squeezed. Darius and I ran toward them. As I got closer, I recognized the frame Olivia was holding. It was the mirror I'd found during the hunt for the anchor—the one Iset had set aside.

"What was that?" I demanded.

"It was the tether his soul was attached to," Olivia said. She tossed the mirror frame back into the box. The cold hand squeezed harder, and my gaze darted up to Northrop. He stood there looking gruesome and pleased.

"It doesn't look like his soul is going anywhere," I said.

"It wouldn't," Darius said.

"Breaking the mirror would've called his soul back to his body. Since it's already in his body, breaking it wouldn't do anything."

"Ah!" Northrop bowed to acknowledge the count, "I'm glad to know that someone was paying attention."

"Why did you break it?" Olivia said.

"Because now the tether is gone," Northrop said.

"The next time my soul leaves my body, it should be able to pass on." I don't know how my cheeks could feel so hot when my chest felt like a block of ice, but they managed it.

"You went through all that effort to become immortal," I said, "and then you go and break the mirror, just like that?" Northrop joined his hands behind his back and gazed up at the sky. When he spoke, he sounded more like the serious, honest Northrop that I knew, and less like the complete twerp he felt compelled to be around everyone else.

"When I was alive, I thought ten thousand years would not be long enough to learn everything that I wanted to know. Then I spent a century in the passages, watching millions of souls go by. Now all I want to know is where they were going." He turned his head to look at me. I had no idea what to say. Northrop got his wish two days later. By then, the water had been hooked back up to the groundskeeper's cottage, so I was able to take a nice long shower.

To celebrate my ability to pass as a semi-civilized human, I borrowed Jacky's car and drove into town so I could take Dustin out to coffee at our local coffee shop. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. After getting our drinks and claiming a booth, the first order of business was to message the three other boys in our friend group: Wes, Scott, and Eric. I bragged about how I was on a date with a cute Scottish boy. They jeered at me and expressed general disbelief.

I sent them a selfie of me kissing Dustin's bright-red cheek. They responded with outrage. Never mind my pathetic dating life—how dare Dustin go to America without taking them! Then I put my phone away, sat back, and asked Dustin how he was doing and what it was like living on a small farm. He complained in a friendly, cheerful way about everything from the goats to the garden, and as he spoke, an unconscious smile spread over his face. The kid was so happy that he glowed.

It was such a huge change from the sad, despondent boy that I'd said goodbye to back in November that it almost brought tears to my eyes. Then I had to go and ruin it by asking him when he and Circe would be returning to England.

"Today," Dustin said. My heart thumped.

"Today?"

"I'm sorry, Emerra. I would've liked to spend more time here, but we left in a hurry. We have to get back to make sure everything's okay."

"No," I assured him, "it's fine. I understand. I'm just glad I caught you before you left." What a lie. I'd been hoping we'd have at least another day. With everything being so crazy at the mansion, this was the first chance I'd had to really talk to him. My disappointment stuck in my gut. This time Dustin's smile was sympathetic. It was like the kid could read my mind or something. I found myself groping for an excuse to keep him around.

"But won't you have to be here for the trial?"

"What trial?" he asked.

"Northrop's trial. He has to present himself to a Torr judge—""Emerra, there won't be any trial. Northrop is dead." I heard the statement and understood it immediately. There was no mental fidgeting with the words to see if they could apply to a corpse. Northrop was dead. Gone. Hollowed out by the shock, all I could do was stare at Dustin.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I thought you knew."

"When did this happen?"

"This morning. He was being held in the same house that Circe and I are staying at."

"Does Darius know?"

"He was the first person we called. I thought he would've told you." I shifted my stare to the coffee mug sitting on the table in front of me. I had slurped off most of the whipped cream, leaving nothing but a few minuscule white islands. I watched them melt into my mocha while I tried to sort out what I was feeling.

"I'm sorry," Dustin repeated.

"I know he was a friend of yours." I shook my head. A few words tumbled from my lips: "I didn't really know him." But I did. Better than anyone else in the world. I was the only judge that he would ever stand in front of.

"Are…you sure?" Dustin said. I looked up at him when I heard the confusion in his voice. He shrugged with one shoulder.

"I mean, you'd know, but—" He cut himself off by shaking his head and scowling.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Do you know something?"

"I'm not sure." Dustin glanced around the coffee shop. There was no one around, but he still lowered his voice.

"Northrop wasn't an easy person to read. There were places in his mind I couldn't go, and he never leaked anything. Digging that memory out of him was hard. But when he saw you running down the road toward us, I could feel the relief pouring off him." Dustin fidgeted with the handle of his mug.

"It reminded me of the relief I felt." I smiled a wide, bright smile. The tips of Dustin's ears turned pink.

"Anyway," he said, trying to sound casual, "that's why I thought you knew each other." He raised his eyes to mine.

"Any idea what that was about?" I shook my head. In that moment, I found it hard to care about Northrop's relief—or his death, for that matter. I was too busy blissing out because Dustin had admitted that he'd been worried about me. It made me feel special. I put off taking him back to the house he was staying at for as long as I could. By the time we got there, the Torr driver was putting Dustin's and Circe's bags into his trunk. Circe was standing on the sidewalk. She smiled when I pulled up.

"I knew you'd be back in time," she said with a wink. I said goodbye to them and waved at their car until it disappeared around the corner. As I lowered my hand, a figure walked up from behind and stood beside me. My stomach sank.

"Did Mr. Walman tell you?" Darius asked.

"He did," I said, "but I'd like a few more details." We stayed where we were, facing the same direction, gazing out over the unremarkable street. Darius sighed, then said, "You know we had him under guard?"

"I know."

"When his guard went in to check on him this morning, Northrop didn't move. No amount of stimulus could get him to respond, and—well, let's just say that the smell of his body was more significant than it had been the day before." The edges of my mouth pulled back, splitting the difference between a frown and a grimace. Darius went on, "He'll be reburied before the end of the day."

"Where?"

"Back into the hole he crawled out of." A weak and dismal laugh died before it got out of my throat.

"Darius," I said, "did he kill himself somehow? —or re- kill himself, or whatever?"

"There was no sign of any violence or magic. There's no sign of anyone having come in or out of the room—""You checked?"

"I don't like it when people die in my custody." When I glanced at Darius, his jaw was set. It looked like he was doing everything he could to hold back the frustration that had turned his eyes into pits.

"There's still a few things left to investigate," he said, "but I suspect we won't find anything."

"So that's it? His soul was just…gone?"

"That's what it looks like." I drove back to the mansion alone. The silence in the car was heavy, but I couldn't bring myself to turn on any music. It was almost a relief to step out of the silence and into the noisy chaos of the reconstruction, and resume my all-important role as the curator and caretaker of the Noctis art collection. Big Jacky had taken a vote from all the residents of the mansion on the same day we'd returned to our dimension.

Kappa was the most adamant, but all of us had agreed that we wanted the mansion rebuilt exactly the way it was. Except with a better heating system. And some decent wiring for internet. And newer windows. All the details had upset Kappa, but when we assured him that he wouldn't even notice the changes, he generously allowed them. There was a slight delay because we had to find architects and designers who were cleared to work with Iset, but once we found them, they were hauled in to start work.

They had to learn to dodge the people who were carrying out the rubble. Big Jacky and Darius offered, ad nauseam, to pay for me to stay somewhere nicer while the work was going on, but it didn't seem right for me to hang out in a hotel while Conrad, Iset, and Kappa were stuck in a bunch of canvas tents set up in our backyard. Besides, the mansion was my home. I had no money; working was the only way I could give back to the place that meant so much to me.

If all I could do was haul boxes and check books, then that was what I was going to do. Darius ordered some storage pods to keep our most valuable items out of the weather while the mansion was being rebuilt, and I nearly got into a fistfight with one of the workers about whether art or furniture had priority. Big Jacky solved the problem by ordering more storage pods and putting me in charge of the art.

I spent my days wrapping the undamaged pieces for storage and deciding whether to throw away the damaged pieces or send them out for repair and restoration. And, boy, I was not afraid to abuse my authority. Conrad and I were taking a break and munching on some stale pizza under a canopy when we overheard Big Jacky talking on his phone.

"No, I don't—" Pause.

"Yes, but I fail to understand what the problem is." Another pause.

"And that process requires it to be mended with gold? I'm sure that will be a pleasure to look at…Why not? Can it be done? …Then do it." There was a much shorter pause.

"Mr. Deforrest, I believe you are laboring under a misapprehension. I may be your employer, but Emerra Cole is the director. If she tells you to do something that's feasibly possible, you do it." There was another pause, then Big Jacky droned, "Mr. Deforrest, if I cared about the expense, I would not have hired you to advise her." Conrad tilted his head to look at me.

"You're going to give that poor man an aneurysm."

"Well! It's my favorite vase!" I cried.

"And it would cost you—what? —five dollars to replace it?" I ticked my finger back and forth.

"Fixing things is better."

"Sure, but do you have to send it to a Japanese craftsman?"

"It's been through a lot," I said softly.

"I think it deserves it." When the Torr teams finally finished clearing out the basement, Big Jacky asked me to join him for one last inspection. A line of industrial string lights had been brought in and laid along the floor. They cast a glaring white light over the stone walls. I walked from room to room, looking in every corner to see if there was anything left behind or anything the experts had missed.

"What are you going to do with the place?" I asked. My voice sounded flat in the small room, like the walls were eating the sound waves.

"Are you referring to the contents or to the basement itself?" Big Jacky asked.

"Both, I guess. Once you got rid of the bones, what contents were left?" Big Jacky nodded toward the back of the cell we were in.

"There was a whole library over there. You accessed it from the side hall."

"A library?"

"It's not unheard of for magicians to hide their most important books away from the rest of their collection. There was also a space where Northrop could cast large-scale spells that were too delicate to cast in the presence of blood."

"He cleaned his workroom." I felt confident as I said it, but when I heard myself, I wondered. Had Northrop cleaned the rooms? Or had time and bad lighting hidden the uglier details from me?

"Even a small amount of blood can impact a spell," Big Jacky explained.

"It's also possible that he didn't want to cast his spells in the same rooms where he practiced his…other work." I smiled when I heard Jacky hesitate. He was probably trying to be considerate by not mentioning anything that might trigger recent bad memories. Too bad he hadn't thought of that before mentioning the blood. I still loved him for trying.

"The magic circle was centered in that library," Jacky added. I walked past Big Jacky to get out to the hall.

"What will you do with all his books?" He followed me into the next room.

"The ones that have no forbidden knowledge will be cataloged and stored as general resources for the Torr."

"And the ones with forbidden knowledge?" When Jacky didn't answer, I turned to look at him. The bright, caged light, shining from below, made his skull look like a bad Halloween effect. I did my best to sound indifferent.

"Do you destroy them?"

"We used to," Jacky said, "but I've learned that's a bad practice. There are emergencies, like the one you recently passed through, where a little knowledge can mean the difference between life and death. We adopt them now—""Who's we?"

"Me and a group of select people. We become the caretakers of that knowledge. We pass it on while trying to keep the balance between too much caution and not enough." I looked into his eye sockets—the wide-open windows to his soul. If he had one. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of some clue or hint, but all there was, was Jacky—himself, entirely.

"Emerra?"

"Never mind." I shook my head and turned to look over the room.

"What will you do with the basement?"

"I've already hired several magicians to see that it's filled as far as the wine cellar." I grinned.

"Can't you just slap in some concrete like anyone else would?"

"I could"—he sounded puzzled—"but somehow I feel more comfortable thinking that there will be rock and earth under my house." After I gave the basement the all-clear, I went back to keeping an eye on Kappa, carrying things, and bullying my art expert. That night I lay in bed, staring up at the rippling canvas roof and thinking. Days ago, Conrad had dragged our old beds into our tents.

It made the tents crowded, and when this was all over, the mattresses would probably have to be sent to the dumpster, but it was better than sleeping on the ground. I reached between the mattress and the box spring, pulled out Northrop's journal, and ran my thumb across the pages. The slight breeze created by the shifting paper drifted over my face.