Chương 49: Chapter 48 - Trust

I found Jacky and Iset in the groundskeeper's cottage, making sure that everything was ready for Igor's return later that day. If they hadn't been together, I wouldn't have found them at all. I would've been "just passing by," or there to say good morning, but since they were together, I walked in and shut the door behind me. They turned when they heard the door seal shuffle over the wooden boards.

"Emerra?" Iset said.

"I need to talk to you guys," I said. My stomach screwed itself into a knot of anxiety, and my head swam a little as I walked toward them.

"Is there a problem?" Big Jacky asked. I scowled. How was I supposed to answer that? I pulled the journal out from behind my back and held it up. I'm sure I looked like a shame-faced toddler holding out the stolen candy. When Iset reached for it, I had to say, "No, it's—it's for Big Jacky." Big Jacky only looked at it.

"What is it?"

"It's Grover Northrop's journal."

"Iset," Big Jacky said as he took it, "the lock, if you would." Iset went over and locked the door before returning to us. Big Jacky thumbed through the pages.

"How did you get this?"

"Northrop gave it to me," I said.

"Northrop! When did he have access to it? I thought he was being watched."

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, I was the one watching him." Big Jacky stopped his thumbing and looked at me.

"Why did you wait so long to bring it to us?" I squeezed two of my fingers with my other hand, and there was no power in the universe that could've stopped the blood from rushing to my cheeks.

"I wasn't supposed to bring it to you at all," I said while inspecting the floorboards. Hardwood. An excellent specimen.

"Originally, Northrop asked me to destroy it. He couldn't take it with him because he knew he'd be searched by his guard, and he couldn't destroy it there without being noticed." Big Jacky's voice was dark with disapproval, and when death's voice goes dark—well, don't bother pulling out a flashlight.

"Emerra, I don't understand—" He stopped when Iset laid a hand on his arm.

"Emerra," Iset said, "what do you mean by he 'originally' asked you?"

"When I pointed out that it wasn't like I had a fire or anything, he handed it to me anyway and said that he would surrender to my judgment." Iset turned to Jacky. Neither of them spoke, but they'd known each other for over three thousand years. Maybe they didn't need words. When Jacky broke the silence, all the disapproval in his voice was gone. He sounded almost resigned.

"What was your judgment, Emerra Cole?" My red cheeks shifted to an almost purple shade. What was it with these people and trying to turn me into some kind of black-robed authority figure? I could almost excuse Northrop because he had no idea what I was like, but Big Jacky had seen me singing to myself and the dance pose I struck. I swallowed.

"I decided to trust you—both of you. Together." I hadn't meant to add that last part, but saying the half-truth had made me so uncomfortable that the rest of it came out automatically. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Big Jacky said, "Please tell me everything you feel you can." I told him. Everything. After all, I'd decided to trust him as long as Iset was there to run emotional interference. Big Jacky watched me the whole time without making a sound.

Even when I related Northrop's cryptic warning about wanting to protect the innocent, Big Jacky didn't blink— Not… not that he could blink. But he didn't give any other reaction either. I wondered what was going on in that skull of his. Did it hurt his feelings that someone would think that way about him? Or was he absorbing everything without a single emotion?

I finished the story with Northrop pressing his journal into my hands, then blathered out some stupid details about hiding it under my mattress, and added a last silver-tongued flourish: "So, you know… there —I guess." For a second or two, the only sounds were from the construction outside. Iset's gaze shifted from me to Jacky, and something about the slow, gentle movement made me think that she was feeling sympathy, but for who or why, I couldn't say.

"Jacky?" she said. Jack Noctis's eye sockets never left my face.

"I knew about the imp." If I'd had a hundred years to guess what Big Jacky might have said in that moment, that line wouldn't have even made the list. It zipped right through my brain, leaving a gap in its wake.

"I'm sorry?" I said.

"Iset told me everything she could when I first arrived at the mansion. She told me about the imp."

"She knew what it was?"

"Iset knows far more than you realize." I stared at the mummy. I thought Iset was the smartest woman in the world; if she knew more than I realized, then the world was a lot bigger than I'd prepared myself for. My brain did a quick check of everything I'd experienced since I'd been raised from the dead and confirmed the conclusion. And this was the woman who worried that she didn't have enough experience? My eyes flew back to Jacky.

"But, then…" Jacky waited for me to finish the sentence—we all waited—but I was having a hard time untangling the mess that was churning through my head.

"Um," I said, "were you…mad?"

"Not about the imp," Jacky said.

"Something like that was to be expected. Northrop was, after all, working with a demon."

"But wha—what would you have done? What will you do?"

"Nothing." I felt a weird mixture of disappointment and reassurance. That was the Big Jacky I knew. He went on, "The demon in question, Ambrose, never achieved his goal. The harm was avoided, and you've given us an important key." He lifted the journal.

"With this, we might find a way to mitigate the magic that revives an infernal, in case another demon succeeds where Ambrose has failed." Big Jacky said to Iset, "I must deal with this immediately. Can you and Darius handle things here?"

"Of course," Iset assured him. To me, he said, "Thank you for trusting me. It means a great deal to me." I gave him a half-smile and a shrug. My disappointment had gone stale and sticky. Why had I even been worried? But as Big Jacky turned away, I blurted out, "Jacky!" He stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"Jacky, what would you have done if Ambrose had succeeded? If he'd learned that Northrop had managed to revive the imp?" Jacky turned to face me.

"I would have killed the infernals." The disappointment changed into something brittle that breathed out cold. Jack Noctis hadn't sounded angry. He hadn't sounded determined, disapproving, or hostile. His voice had been as calm as if he'd been telling me about how boring the weather was.

"All of them?" I said.

"Emerra," he said, "I cannot kill a being that isn't alive. You know that. The revived, no matter how they're revived, are beyond my power. If the demons ever gained access to the art of necromancy, the only hope we'd have to control the chaos would be to prevent the infernals from becoming revived by eliminating them before they could adapt the magic." He turned away again.

"Forgive me, I must go." He was gone, and he hadn't bothered opening the door to leave.

"You're scared," Iset said.

"Am I?"

"It's written all over your face." I turned to her.

"He wouldn't have to kill all of them, would he?"

"He thinks he would," she said.

"Was Northrop right about him?" I motioned to the space Jacky had disappeared from.

"Did I just make the biggest mistake of my life by giving him that journal?"

"Not at all. If you hadn't given him that journal, the situation would be no different. Jacky had already chosen to do nothing, and he already knew what he would have done if the worst happened." I stood there, trembling, trying to let Iset's words comfort me. It didn't work. Iset sighed and stepped forward so she could stand next to my shoulder.

"Big Jacky has a role that he must play. But he's also a person. Part of what makes him a person, and not a tool, is that he thinks about his role." I turned to her, my eyes wide, and whispered, "He's a guillotine."

"No," she said firmly.

"He was. Once. A guillotine with a conscience. He only had two options—to strike or not to strike. But he's learned, and his conscience was strong enough that he grew into something bigger than he was meant to be. He has more options now, and by giving him that journal, you've given him another. He will pursue it."

"Will he?"

"Emerra, the thing that Big Jacky has learned to want, more than anything else, is to do what's right. Can you trust that?" I thought about every conversation I'd ever had with Big Jacky. Before long, I was nodding. It felt good, and the more I did it, the lighter the weight in my chest became.

"Yes." I smiled, and like the nod, it happened without me thinking about it.

"That is what I trust."