She crouched down next to him, brought her fist to her chest, and smiled back.

The Way It Is with Twins’Threedux

There was something strangely fulfilling about the new High Priest Aaron’s ride to Artimé, knowing what a disaster was there now, and knowing he’d caused it. Truly a lot had happened since the last time he’d seen his brother at this gate.

He’d managed to batten down his fleeting feelings of pity for his brother, though he didn’t feel entirely like gloating to him about his new position. Something Haluki had said kept gnawing at him, but he wasn’t sure why. Besides, there would be plenty of time for gloating later.

Still, he found himself being driven here at his own request by his new faithful guards. Also accompanying him was his newly appointed secretary, Eva Fathom. He still didn’t entirely trust her, but he knew the ancient saying: Keep your enemies at your side to learn their every move. So this would be the perfect situation to put Eva in. Face-to-face with the people who trusted her in the midst of the mess she helped create.

As they drew close, Aaron pulled a pistol from his cloak and laid it on his lap so that whatever guards were protecting Artimé could see it. He wasn’t looking for trouble. Not today. His Restorers needed a bit of a break.

“What do you want?” the Artiméan guard asked when the jalopy pulled up.

“I wish to speak with Alex Stowe. I presume someone here might know who that is.” Aaron didn’t mean it as a joke.

The other guards laughed bitterly. “Apparently you don’t, though,” one of them muttered. It made them all the more loyal to Alex when they caught whiff of Aaron’s haughtiness. Who would want to follow a leader like that?

One of the guards found Alex carrying a lifeless beavop. “Alex, your brother is here. He says he wants to talk to you.”

Alex narrowed his eyes and ignored the fear that sparked in his gut. “How many are with him?”

“Just his driver and another guard, and his secretary.”

“All right,” he said. He set the beavop down and walked to the gate, greeted his own guards, and said to them, “Can you please tell Aaron to approach alone? I’ll speak with him in the road. And tell him to leave his weapons behind.”

The guards stepped back to the gate, eyeing the Quillitary vehicle suspiciously, ready to attack and defend their new young leader if they had to.

Alex walked to the center of the road and clasped his hands in front of him, waiting. Aaron took his time getting out of the jalopy, smoothed the wrinkles in his cloak, and walked up to Alex. He carried a small bundle wrapped in a burlap peanut sack.

Alex narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?”

Aaron flashed a patronizing smile. “Greetings to you as well, dear brother. It’s been a long time.” He held out his hand in a lazy fashion like the High Priest Justine might have done. But Alex didn’t take it, bow over it, kiss it, or otherwise acknowledge it in any way.

In fact, Alex’s deep brown eyes held none of the warmth they’d held a few moments earlier, inside the shack with the Silent girl. “I don’t have time for chitchat, Aaron. As you can see, we’re quite busy here.”

Aaron glanced into Artimé, but his eyes didn’t linger. He seemed bored. “That’s why we’re giving you a bit of a reprieve to get your things together. I wanted to invite you and your . . . people . . . ,” he said with a sneer, “to live in Quill. We have several jobs available where they can earn their keep.”

“Get out of my sight,” Alex said. “No one here wishes to be a slave to you.”

Aaron shrugged. “That’s fine. I thought you’d appreciate the gesture. It’s a lot easier to get water delivered to your home than it is to steal it by the barrelful,” he said.

Alex glared at him and said nothing.

“But I’ve let your workers get away with it this time.”

Alex didn’t waver. “Is there anything else?”

“Just this.” Aaron held out the package. “Though with the way you’re treating me now, I’m hardly inclined to give it. Ah, but I’m here. And I certainly don’t want it.”

Alex held the glare a moment longer, and took the package.

“When Mr. Today died, he didn’t say a word, by the way.”

Alex worked his jaw. He wasn’t prepared for this. He knew he was showing weakness, but he had to ask. “How did you kill him?” He’d been wondering, and no one seemed to know.

“Oh, I didn’t kill him,” Aaron said, as if he was delighted Alex asked. “He died of a heart attack. Five of them, to be exact’all at once. Pity.”

Alex’s own heart nearly stopped. He squeezed his tired, red-rimmed eyes shut for a moment and then opened them again. His voice was barely above a whisper. “You killed Mr. Today with my own spell?”

“Oh! That was one of yours?” Aaron feigned surprise.

Alex couldn’t believe it. “How did you get the components?” he demanded. “No one has access to them.”

“Oh, ho, ho, perhaps not. But my secretary did.”

Alex shot a glance at the vehicle. He shielded his eyes and peered in through the window. Looking back at him was Eva Fathom.

His lips parted and he sucked in a little breath of recognition. And then everything came together. He’d given Carina Fathom twelve heart attack components. Eva Fathom, whom Mr. Today trusted, was working for Aaron, not for Artimé. All this time . . . Alex felt a huge wave of disappointment flood over him. He was too trusting again. When would he stop thinking the best of people?