Eden always enjoyed the atmosphere of Thetan’s study, even if she didn’t always enjoy his presence. The small room was lined with old books, and smelled sharply of ink. There were at least three small pots of it scattered across his polished desk, which sat under a beam of light coming down from the hole carved into the stone of the roof.

Despite being one of the most analytical and tactical people she had ever met, his desk was – in a word – chaotic. Parchment paper turned this way and that way; crumpled, folded, slipping from the edge, curling and turning brown from being exposed to the sunbeam for too long. Eden didn’t know if he really needed the papers, or if writing things down just helped lock the words in his brain permanently.

Eden was sure that she would never know, because after teaching her to write, he forbade her from ever doing it. It was too dangerous in a role like hers, where information was the most powerful of weapons. Anything she ever learned, anything she was ever told was written only within herself. The countless scars that laced the skin under her cloak were a testament to how deep the information was planted. Pain could not get to it. People could not get to it. Patience could not get to it.

Thetan had made sure of that.

Distracted by a quiet scratching that had been going on for the past few minutes, she glanced over at Rosie, who was bored to death and entertaining herself by chipping at the varnish of his desk. Thetan often kept those he summoned waiting while he wrote or read, and while Eden was quite sure it was some sort of test, Rosie’s patience never lasted either way.

Still, with the mission he had assigned to them being of the highest priority, Eden had trouble keeping her own patience in check. Each pause of his hand while he wrote chipped away at it.

Finally, he placed the beautifully feathered pen aside and leaned back in his chair, dark green gaze steady and expectant. “Report,” he commanded in a voice that was deep and chilling like thunder.

“There were many people already present, Thetan,” Eden began immediately. Obviously relieved that the silence had ended, Rosie sat up straighter in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. It was a little late to look poise, but Rosie had actually managed to keep quiet this time. That was an accomplishment.

“And the king?”

“He wasn’t there.”

The boss nodded and pushed himself up from the table. Momentarily under the beam of light that shined down on his desk, his light brown hair glinted with thin streaks of silver. A small reminder that Thetan was, in fact, human too.

“Do you think it good or bad that our target wasn’t present, Lotus?”

Surprised by the sudden question, Rosie flashed her a panicked look. Eden lowered her hands between her knees while Thetan’s back was turned and gestured to her.

“Good,” she signed quickly in their hand-language.

“It’s a good thing,” Rosie repeated aloud, her tone rising at the end like a question.

“Oh, how so?” Thetan asked, sounding surprised. Eden knew it was a ruse, but by the look on Rosie’s face, she obviously thought her answer wrong.

The Loon’s hands flashed into motion, though she was careful not to let her nails tap or the material of her clothing rub together and make noise. “Don’t panic. If he’s not there, it just means he likely isn’t interested in them.”

Steadying herself, Rosie spoke more confidently this time, “I suppose he isn’t interested in that batch. We’ve decided to attend a bit later, just to spark his curiosity.”

Their superior tilted his chin down in thought and folded his hands at the small of his back. “Are you sure that is wise, Loon?”

“It is,” Eden replied. She said no more. Rosie shot her an expression that shouted are-you-kidding-me? Her slender hands whirled with gestures.

“Why don’t you have to explain?” she asked, miffed. Eden signed back quickly.

“Explaining a decision without being asked makes you seem uncertain of yourself. You explained an opinion—it’s different.”

“My head hurts.”

By the time Thetan turned back around, she and Rosie had schooled their features and postures back into neutrality.

“Do the pair of you know why we need this mission to succeed?”

“Um, so he doesn’t give half his power to some dumb ditz?” Rosie answered nonchalantly.

Thetan closed his eyes and let out a breath through his nose. It appeared almost as a sigh, but in actuality it was the only way Thetan ever demonstrated his amusement.

“A ditz would be a blessing in this case. What we need to be worried about is the king accidentally giving his power to someone far more dangerous. We would be fools to believe that we are the only ones hatching a plan to obtain it. Rest assured, every woman you see at that party is after the power — not the man, and certainly not love.”

Eden leaned forward and narrowed her eyes in her customary thinking position, hands folding against her mouth. “Will it be any better off in our hands?”

Thetan eyed her, and a muscle feathered in his strong jaw that screamed disapproval. It was gone before she could assess it further.

“It will be,” he stated confidently. Eden expected him to stop right there, but he continued. “I stumbled upon each of you one by one; Loon and Lotus, Calm and Calamity, Cricket and Crane... many years ago. The lives you knew had been shattered, the child in each of you destroyed.” He paused, his hand coming up to run along the velvet bound books of his study as he thought. Eden remained hunched. She did not like being reminded of her past, and she didn’t need to look at her partner to know she felt the same.

“But I saw something in each of you... something special... something that could be honed into true power. All of you have grown and survived, but, I fear the people that destroyed your lives are still out there.”

Thetan sighed, his hand falling to his side as he turned back to them. “Could you imagine, Little Lotus, if the woman that seduced your father and stole his fortune got her hands on the king’s power? Why should this be her reward?”

The arms of the chair that Rosie was sitting in creaked under the strain of her grip. Out of the corner of her eye, Eden could see that her fists were turning white. She felt the speed of her own heart begin to increase in anticipation.

‘Stop, Thetan...’ she pleaded inwardly.

“Or you, my Little Loon. What if the people that slit your brother’s throat before your very eyes managed to get their hands on it? Is that not enough of a reason for you?”

“Thetan...” Eden heard Rosie say, but her voice sounded far away. In the blink of an eye everything felt far away. She couldn’t see either of them. She could only see her brother, that dark night, the way the figures in black rolled his limp, bloody body into the water, the way she had watched and done nothing.

The guilt felt like it was splitting her stomach open. She felt like she was going to be sick. Would that have made it better? No, she didn’t deserve to feel better. She didn’t deserve to be alive. She hadn’t helped him, hadn’t noticed they were there — didn’t warn him or get to him in time. It had all happened so fast back then, but Eden watched the memory in never-ending slow motion. There was a way to save him, she just hadn’t seen or found it. A failure. She was a failure. She had failed him. He was dead because of her. Some partner she was. Some sister.

‘It’s your fault,’ Eden screamed at herself, frozen in her chair. ‘You let him die. You should die.’

Something warm and soft landed on her right hand, and she tried to flinch away from the comforting touch but Rosie held it firmly. “Eden...” she murmured. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Now girls,” Thetan’s voice cut in. He was suddenly standing very close and Eden couldn’t tell whether to be reassured or unnerved. How long had she been in a daze? Seconds? Minutes? It felt like a lifetime.

“The past is a place of reference, not a place of residence,” he said, peering down at her. “Your brother’s death was a horrific tragedy, but you have Rose now. If you let the past swallow you, Eden, you will fail again in the future.”

The Loon looked at her friend and swallowed down the bile in her throat, the horror in her gut. A rage came surging forth, an anger towards herself. She had to be better — smarter. She could never make a mistake. “Never. I would never fail again.”

“And so far you’ve done well in keeping that oath,” Thetan replied, stepping away and returning around the desk to his seat. “I know that the two of you are ready for this. I know you will not fail the Lakehouse. Take whatever you need, and do not forget that I am here should you ever need council.”

The Lotus and the Loon pushed themselves to their feet and headed silently to the door. Rosie exited first, her gait rushed. Eden paused in the archway of the door and looked momentarily back at Thetan.

He lifted his tanned hands and signed to her. “Protect her. You must show her what to see.”

Eden signed back. “Don’t you mean how to see?”

Thetan shook his head, and his hands motioned sharply for emphasis. “Far too dangerous.”