Fiction: The Library of Eristat / The Seven Suitors, Chapter 11

A serialized mystery in a fantasy setting.

Author’s note: The Seven Suitors is a novel-length mystery in a fantasy setting I’ll be serializing here. It’s also the follow-up to the Library of Eristat story you may have read. Chapter One can be found here, the previous chapter can be found here.

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Image generated by Midjourney, all text human-generated by me and human-edited by Alyssa Sparza

Semote pounded on Rowena’s door. It was the middle of the night, and so far as he had been able to tell, no one else was up. He waited a few seconds, then started knocking again, tapping out an anxious rhythm. The sense of urgency he had felt since waking up still hadn’t left him. A third time, he began to strike a series of knocks—but his knuckles were left touching air, as Rowena opened the door on him. Her hair was pulled over to one side, she must have just woken up.

“I wanted to see you.” Semote said softly, trying to gather the courage for what he wanted to say.

“I can see that.” Rowena’s voice was a whisper as she checked the hall behind him. She was giving him a strange look. “Semote, you do realize I am getting married tomorrow. It’s not like…”

“That’s exactly it.” Semote took a breath. “I think you should delay the wedding.”

Rowena sighed, rubbing her eyes as she did so. “Honestly Semote, I’m the one who’s supposed to be having pre-wedding jitters. Not you. I’ve been delaying this moment my entire life.”

“We still have time left, don’t we? A week until your claim to your house expires?”

Rowena yawned as she looked back at him. “Yes, so far as everyone else knows. But the longer I wait, the less safe we’ll be. I lock in a husband, and no one can try anything. I’ve already sent out word. What’s the sudden concern?”

“I’m afraid that we might have missed something.”

Rowena looked nonplussed. “I can’t say it ended perfectly, but it seems like we resolved all our open questions. You couldn’t have brought this up yesterday? What’s so urgent now?”

“Lucien left me a message. I think he was trying to tell me something. That he wasn’t the guilty party, at least not for all of it.”

“Running off and getting himself killed was hardly a good way to prove that.” Rowena sighed and leaned up against the doorframe. “I can understand your concerns that I might be making a mistake. But remember what you told me when we first met. It’s still my mistake to make. You aren’t responsible for this choice, I am. If I’ve done the wrong thing, I’m the one who has to live with the consequences. If you’re not comfortable sticking around or you’re worried about my ability to keep my promises once I’m married, I can pay you now and you’ll be free to be on your way.”

“No!” The word came out as a shout. Semote forced himself to lower his voice. “That’s not why I came here.”

Rowena looked over at him sympathetically. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. But all I ever had the right to ask from you was to find the killer. You’ve fulfilled your responsibilities there, and the rest is on me.”

“That’s the problem. I’m really not sure that I have.”

“Do you have any proof of that?”

Semote shook his head. Nothing that counted as proof anyway, even to him. “Not yet. But I’d like the time to find some. I know you don’t want—”

“What I want doesn’t matter.” Rowena had a sad look on her face. “It’s kind of you to be looking out for me, and nothing will change the gratitude I feel for what you’ve already done. But I need to get on with my life and protect my people, and I can’t risk that because you are feeling that you have a hard time with this choice. This was never going to be easy.”

Rowena gazed at him for a few seconds more as he struggled to find the right words. Finally she moved to close the door. “Thank you again, but you have my answer. Good night, Semote.”

“What would change your mind?”

Rowena held the door cracked open. “Pardon?”

“I realize I don’t have the evidence to convince you there’s still a killer out there. But what would it take?”

Rowena thought for a moment, then replied. “Your preferred standard for conviction, let’s say. Proof beyond a reasonable doubt, which we both know is likely impossible.” Rowena stared at him for a few seconds more. “Good night, Semote.”

The door slid shut in front of him. Semote was left standing alone in the empty hall. His mind was still racing, trying to think through every unanswered question he’d had from all the week’s events. There wasn’t enough time. And even if he did figure it out, who would believe him?

The smart thing to do would be to go home, take the book he had found, and get on with his life. This was exactly the sort of the situation he had been warned to stay away from. Semote could imagine Lord Terryn chiding him for even considering interfering. Hide behind your patron, he would say. Don’t stick your neck out and put your investigation in opposition to their interests. You are not some storybook hero, responsible for fixing everything, however much you might think.

At the heart of the Library was a circle of books expounding moral philosophies that could purport to resolve the question of what he was obligated to do. There were philosophies expounding moderation in each of the virtues, which he would clearly be in excess of. Philosophies that would say he was only bound by the duties he had undertaken, which he had already explicitly fulfilled. And there were philosophies like what seemed to drive the author of the Codex, claiming that the heart of morality was preventing the most suffering, which would tell him the most important thing he could be doing was to return home and decrypt more of a book that could reveal the secrets of the universe and change history, rather than risking his life on a doomed quest no one wanted him on.

Semote shook his head as he looked back at the hallway to his room. The truth was, he was wasting time even debating it. From the moment he had woken up, he had no real doubt in his mind about what he was going to do. He might have been wrong about every conclusion he had reached over the last week, mistaken about who each of these men were, the archetypes they performed and hid behind. But he knew exactly who he was.

Semote walked down the hall, tracing the rooms by memory. He knocked on another door. A second time. A third. And a fourth.

Skye showed herself, considerably more red-eyed than her sister. “What do you want?” She muttered.

“I need help.”

“With what?”

Semote stared back at her. That wasn’t a no, wasn’t a yes. “I’m worried your sister is moving too quickly. I’m afraid we might have missed something, and I’ll need more than just my word to support what I find. I want your help to investigate.”

Skye made a show of straightening her hair. “That’s funny. She’s never been accused of moving too quickly before.”

“Well, that day may have come.” Semote hesitated, looking over at her. “Will you come with me?”

Skye looked back at him for a few seconds. “No.”

Not an unexpected answer for the middle of the night, but still. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not going to make the slightest bit of difference.” Skye’s voice began to waver. “Whoever she marries, whatever she does, our lives stop being our own the moment we find a husband. There’s no way out of this. There never was. And there’s nothing either of us can do to stop it. Nothing. We. Do. Matters.”

Skye slammed the door shut, leaving Semote standing alone by himself again. He tried knocking on the door again, with no response. Gritting his teeth, he spoke the only words that came to mind.

“Then what exactly do you stand to lose by trying? And if we’re both worried about what might happen, why am I the one out here, and not you?”

Semote heard the sounds of some objects being shuffled around, and muffled noises of articles of clothing being tossed around the room. When the door opened, he braced himself to have something thrown in his face. But Skye had appeared in a modest dress, with her hair drawn up.

“There. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic. Come with me.” Semote began to lead her down the hall.

Skye sighed, and followed after him. “Where are we going?”

“Everywhere. But first, to interrogate the suspects.”

“They’re suspects, still? I have to say, if there’s still a killer out there, my money is definitely on—”

“Hold that thought.” Semote raised a hand as he reached the guest suite where the other suitors were staying. “I don’t want to bias our deliberations until we know more. We need evidence. Testimony. Contradictions to expose and resolve. Let’s start with Gideon.”

Skye looked over at him skeptically as Semote approached the door. “Remind me, what am I contributing to this operation?”

“Another pair of eyes. Gravitas. And independent confirmation.” Semote looked back at her. “Take note of everything that happens, everything you see. My own testimony could count for nothing. Yours will carry weight. Too late for second thoughts now, come on.”

Gideon was more easily roused than either of the women of Lithos, brought to the door by only a pair of knocks. He peered out at the two of them. “Silas. Lady Skye. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Can we come in?”

Gideon shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

Semote crossed the threshold, with Skye following behind, glancing around the room idly. Gideon looked at the two of them thoughtfully, stroking his beard as he spoke. “Is everything all right?”

“I hope so, but I’m worried it might not be.” Semote looked back at Gideon. “I’m concerned that we might have missed something. That you and Rowena might not really be safe.”

Gideon let out a deep breath and sighed, shaking his head. “I appreciate your concern. Rowena tells me your help has been invaluable over this last week.”

“Kind of her to say so.”

“And I’m immensely grateful as well. I’m not clear on the details, but I understand she wants to remunerate you for the assistance you’ve given—” Gideon looked over at Semote. “Something I’d be inclined to agree with. Perhaps even more generously.”

“That’s not my concern. I just want to make sure things are truly settled.”

“Of course.” Gideon paused, and looked back at Semote. His voice took on a gentle tone. “I am convinced of your honor in this matter. But I have known men who suffered with worry as you now suffer, for no true cause. Many soldiers find it impossible to let go of the fear they felt on the battlefield, seeing threat in every moment of their civilian lives. And I would not fault a man for still feeling that fear so soon after the death of a murderer.”

Semote gave a quick smile. “I appreciate your understanding. If you could settle a couple of questions for me, it might put my mind to rest. Do you remember whether you or Wesley arrived first to spot Lucien’s body?”

Gideon shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t really say. One moment I was struck with shock at the sight. The next thing I knew, Wesley was beside me. He seemed as disturbed as I was, however. I noticed nothing suspicious in his demeanor.”

“Right.” Semote nodded. “And three nights ago, the day after Valerian’s death, did you happen to run into Lucien, anything to suggest he might have been making a trip to the rooftops?”

“The night after we searched for the murder weapon?” Gideon thought for a moment, and shook his head. “I don’t think I saw him, but I didn’t venture out late. I hope this eases your concerns. I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”

“Sorry to have disturbed you.” Semote said briskly. “Thanks for your time.”

Skye waited until they were back outside before speaking to him. “What was the point of that?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Semote looked back at her. “Did you get a good look around?”

“What, was that what I was supposed to be doing?” Skye looked confused.

“I said I wanted another pair of eyes, didn’t I? Anything out of the ordinary?”

Skye shook her head. “Nothing obviously hidden away, nothing suspicious either.”

“As expected.” Semote rubbed his palms together. “On to the next room.”

Alexander was the next to emerge from behind a door, a little too chipper for the late hour. “Ah, another lonely soul. Lord Silas.” Alexander squinted out the doorway. “And you’re with the consolation prize, Lady Skye. Silas, I’m honestly impressed. The rest of us were planning to wait until the wedding, when liquor and envy begin to melt hearts. What brings you here now?”

“The relentless pursuit of the truth, in defiance of all reasonable limits.”

Alexander blinked his eyes. “When did you start talking like someone out of a novel? I’m not saying I hate it, but if this is going to be your aesthetic, you should have started—”

Semote handed Alexander a sheet of paper, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. “The words Lithos and Serenia. Write them six times, if you don’t mind.”

Alexander grabbed a graphite pencil from him, looking confused. “What’s this for?”

“It’s purely for the sake of completeness. You’ll be doing me a favor. I did save your life.”

Alexander looked at Semote for a second, shrugged, then wrote them out. Semote scanned the handwriting and compared it to the note in his pocket, the message conspiring with a foreign power. Not a match, as expected.

“One more thing. When I gave you the answer to the second riddle: did you share that information with anyone?”

Alexander looked even more confused than before. “I think heartbreak has driven you out of your mind. I’m not sure I can think of anything that matters less right now. Why are you even asking me this?”

“Because you’re the most likely to have done so.” Semote fidgeted. “So come on, did you or didn’t you?”

Alexander shook his head. “Sorry, I kept the answer to myself. For all the good it did me.”

“Excellent. Have a wonderful night.”

Skye gave him a strange look as the door shut. “Nothing suspicious that I could see. Why are you asking the most random questions possible? Are you just trying to trip them up?”

“No, I promise there’s a method to the madness. Loose ends, implications of what would have to be true if I was wrong about my conclusions until now.” Semote gestured to another door, which he opened without knocking.

Skye followed him in, still looking confused. “This is Lucien’s room. Didn’t you search this place already?”

“And if we’d done a better job, maybe I wouldn’t need to be here.” Semote muttered. “Let’s take another look, shall we?”

Semote began pulling at furniture with even less regard for cleanliness than before, checking over, under, and inside every object that might be hiding something—and finding nothing.

“Would you take a look at this? It’s a bunch of nonsense about chests and coins.”

Semote looked over at the crumpled paper Skye had pulled out from a basket in the corner. “Looks like Lucien was frustrated with the outcome of the second riddle. Understandably so. Mind if I take a look?”

Semote straightened out the paper, and compared the writing on it to the note he’d found the other night. After a careful inspection, he tucked them both away. “Thought so.”

“Thought what?” Skye looked puzzled. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“If I had time to talk and think, I promise I would.” Semote grabbed her hand and dragged her out. “Come on, Cedric’s next.”

Semote knocked on the door, then thought better of it and simply barged in without further notice. Cedric barely had time to light a lamp before squinting up at the both of them. “Is everything all right? What’s going on?”

Semote handed him a sheet of paper. “I want you to write the words Lithos and Serenia half a dozen times.”

Cedric looked over at him, uncomprehending. “Am I dreaming? What the hell are you on about?”

“Call it revenge if you want. You owe me one. Just do it, and get it over with.”

Cedric sighed, and began making small marks. “Are you still upset about me not giving you credit before? It’s not like it made a difference in the end.”

“It may have mattered more than you think.” Semote looked over at the paper, snatched it back, and compared it to the note in his pocket. Exactly as he suspected. “One other thing.”

Cedric groaned, and rubbed his eyes. “Yes, what is it.”

“How good of a fighter was Valerian?”

Cedric stared back. “I suppose you want me to say, not good enough?”

“You obviously practiced to try to win the tournament. You saw Valerian fight, even if it was staged. From what you knew, do you think Valerian could have beaten all of the others?”

Cedric thought for a moment. “It wasn’t like he was showing his hand completely. But based on the demonstration he gave, I would guess he was a tougher fighter than Gideon himself. Wasn’t enough to save him though. Why do you ask?”

“Aimless curiosity.” Semote nodded at him. “Thank you.”

Skye was giving him a very peculiar look when he made it outside. “Are you sure you’re all right? Nothing you’re doing makes any sense.”

“I promise it does. We can take a second to talk now.” Semote began to lead her to the far end of the hall.

Skye shrugged and kept walking. “So, did the note you found at the top of the castle match Cedric’s writing? Is that what you keep checking against?”

“It didn’t...and that’s not exactly what I was hoping to find. It didn’t match Cedric. Or Alexander. Or Lucien. Or Darius, Wesley, or Gideon for that matter.” Semote had a smile on his face.

“Wait...” Skye looked puzzled. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re making it sound like no one in the castle could have sent that note.”

“That’s exactly correct.”

“How is that possible?”

“Darius’s turn. Look alive.”

Darius was the next to emerge, bleary-eyed. “Yes, what is it?”

“Can we come in?”

Darius squinted at Semote uncertainly, before noticing Skye behind him. “I suppose so.”

The two of them settled into the room, where Semote began to pace. “Three nights ago. The day after Valerian’s death. You were talking to Lucien for some time before I came in. Lucien said that he had been wondering where I was. Do you remember how long the two of you were speaking before I arrived?”

Darius rubbed his eyes, trying to think. “Hard to say. We’d had a drink before that too, long enough for the effects to set in and make the man even more insufferable. I’d say I was with him for half an hour at least.”

“You’re quite sure? You’d swear to it?”

“So far as I can remember, yes.” Darius looked over at Semote. “What’s this all about? I’m not in trouble again, am I?”

“Don’t worry about it, hopefully it’s nothing.” Semote smiled back at him, as Skye’s exploration of the room seemed to grow more aimless. Semote felt his gaze fall on the signed letter that effectively served as Darius’s credentials, briefly glancing past it, then finding his gaze drawn back to it. Odd. Darius was giving him a strange look, and Semote forced another smile, before taking his leave.

Semote turned to Skye again when they were back outside. “Anything?”

“No bloody murder weapons, I’m really not sure what you keep hoping to see.” Skye muttered. “But he did have a book I thought was strange.”

“What was it?”

“A treatise on the houses and nobility of Serenia. And it’s not from our library.”

“Interesting.” Semote paused. “Not a particularly rare title, not worth holding onto as an asset of some kind.”

“Not like the book you were hoping to take home with you?” Skye fixed him with a probing gaze.

“Ah. You know about that, do you?”

“Yes, my sister and I talk about everything.” Skye responded airily. “I even know which of the men here is her favorite.”

Semote paused, realizing he actually wanted to hear that answer for himself. “Really? Who is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Skye’s voice took on a layer of sarcasm applied thickly enough to ensure he wouldn’t miss it. “I’d hate to bias any of your late-night deliberations. It’s not hard evidence after all.”

Semote rolled his eyes. “Well, for her sake, let’s hope her alleged favorite isn’t the killer.”

“Hmm. Yeah, I doubt it.” Skye glanced at the door to Darius’s room, then back to Semote. “So that’s what I saw. But you were looking at something yourself, any reason why?”

“Yes…” Semote paused as he approached the final door. “Darius’s credentials, from his homeland. I didn’t recognize the name that signed them. But after all the handwriting I’ve checked recently, I think I’ve seen that script before.”

Skye gave him a look. “Wait. With what we know, that shouldn’t be possible.”

“Exactly. And if you eliminate what’s impossible, whatever remains—” Semote rapped his knuckles on the door of the final suitor. Wesley soon poked his head out, smiled after seeing Skye, then settled into a solemn expression at Semote’s visage.

“Ah, Lady Skye. And Lord Silas as well. What trouble are the two of you getting into at this hour?” Wesley raised an eyebrow at the pair of them, a strange look on his face. “I’m not sure what you may have heard about my reputation, but I’m really not the type to—”

“Just looking out for loose ends.” Semote cut him off, as he eased his way into the room. “I had some questions for you.”

Wesley sighed and settled into a chair. “Don’t you know a lost cause when you see one? Come on then, what do you want to know?”

“Can you tell me everything you saw around the time when you found Lucien’s and Hector’s bodies?”

Wesley thought for a second. “Lucien seemed in a rush to escape, and understandably so. He passed me by before I thought to follow him. I found Gideon standing next to his corpse when I finally caught up to him. Not much to add, really. I have no idea what Lucien was thinking. If what everyone’s saying is true, he was running in the wrong direction to escape to Serenia. To make any kind of a break for it at all, really.”

“Who knows what lies in the hearts of men.” Semote quickly rattled off his next question. “A while back, you told me a story of a woman who pretended to be a Serenian noble, the one you thought might have been from my country. Did you ever mention it to Darius?”

Wesley blinked, trying to remember. “I did, actually.”

“And had he ever heard of her?”

Wesley shook his head. “He hadn’t. I’m not even sure he was clear on what house I was talking about. Is something the matter?” Wesley smirked a little. “You don’t think he’s been put through enough trouble already?”

“We’ll see.” Semote made eye contact with Skye. “Sorry to trouble you, we’ll be on our—”

“Actually—” Skye interrupted him, reaching down on the ground to pick something up. “I think that book is overdue. I’ve been looking everywhere for it. It’s kept me up half the night.”

Wesley stared blankly at her. “Am I dreaming, or did the two of you really just wake me up because of your stupid library’s return policy—”

“Hey now.” Semote shot Wesley a look, realizing he barely cared about keeping up his façade at this point. “Watch what you say about libraries. We’ll be in touch.”

After the door shut, Semote turned back to Skye. “All right, what’s the book?”

“Unusual reading, you should tell me what you think.” Skye handed it over to him. “A manual of fairly unreliable medicines, in higher esteem than it deserves. Recipes for tinctures, antidotes, love potions…”

“Wait.” Semote paused, taking a pause from leafing through the pages, and checking where the book naturally opened. “Love potions?”

“Yes.” Skye replied breezily. “As if love could be reduced to chemistry.”

“I’m pretty sure it can. But what exactly does the term love potion refer to? Literally, specifically.”

Skye flushed a little. “How many trashy romance novels have you read?”

“Enough.” Semote looked at her. “Do you mean…”

Skye sighed. “You know how sometimes the hero—if you want to call them that, seduces a young girl under the influence, and she ends up falling for him anyway? Obnoxious stuff. But it’s something in that genre.”

“And you still read them?”

Skye gave him a guilty look. “Castle life can be pretty boring, all right? I live a rich inner life.”

“Well, time to take that rich inner life to the kitchen.”

“What?”

Semote gestured as he began to hurry down the hall. “We’re going to the kitchen next. Time is working against us. Too busy to explain.”

Semote looked over at the table in the center of the kitchen. Plates and goblets of wine were laid out all in a row, in preparation for tomorrow’s meal. The set at the far end was the only one embellished with gold, he remembered it being used by Rowena. The other dining sets appeared to be interchangeable. Semote began fishing through a heap of trash in the corner, with Skye gazing at him in confusion.

“What on earth are you looking for?”

“Seating arrangements. Two nights ago.”

“They’re over here.” Skye pointed to the wall on the side with several sheets of paper tacked on. Semote scrambled over, and removed the top two sheets. The sheet underneath both of those had all of their positions at the table written out from the night Alexander was poisoned. Rowena was placed at the top right of the table as always, and following along to her right was Skye, himself, Lucien, Gideon, Darius, Cedric, Alexander, and Wesley.

This was still disturbing him to no end. He frowned at the list, willing for it to change. Skye looked over at him. “What is it now?”

“It just doesn’t fit. I have everything else but this. I understand how it happened, but the outcome makes no sense.”

“What do you mean?”

Semote gestured at the list, and at the table. “Every night, they serve around the table starting with Rowena and continuing to her right, with everything laid out in order. Anyone who wanted to could have snuck into the kitchen after everything was prepared, checked the seating arrangement relative to Rowena, and poisoned the cup of whoever they wanted to. But it just doesn’t make sense. I have to be missing something.”

Skye looked up at the paper with all the seats written out. “Right. But that’s not the seating arrangement we ended up with that night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rowena and I switched places that night, remember? That’s not actually where everyone ended up sitting.”

Semote’s eyes grew wide. “Then—of course. I should have realized this days ago. This changes everything. You’re a genius.”

Skye blushed. “Well, thank you.”

“I was talking to myself.”

“Hey!”

“Fine, you too.” Semote grabbed her arm and dragged her along. “Come on.”

Skye stopped short when they approached the castle walls.

“We’re not going outside.” Skye protested.

“Do you want to lord saving your sister from certain doom over her for the rest of her life or not? Come on.”

Skye looked at him imploringly. “We’re not going outside?”

Semote rolled his eyes at her. “Come on.”

“I’m not dressed for this!” Skye grimaced as she stepped out onto the wet grass.

“Neither am I. Let’s get it over with.”

Their path took them over to the field that hosted the competition the other night. Semote walked up to the targets that had been used in the final archery showdown, examining them closely. The arrows that had landed on the final target were close, agonizingly close. He brought his eye as close to the target as sanitation would allow. There appeared to be a blue-tipped arrow dead center. And a red-tipped arrow slightly off. He looked towards Skye to address her, but she was already waving down a nearby figure.

Was it Finn? But as the man approached, Semote could see it was one of the guards he’d spoken with a few days earlier.

“Lord Silas.” The man called out. “Lady Skye. Is everything all right?”

“Well...” Skye began.

“We’re perfectly all right.” Semote interrupted him. “Just out for a late night stroll.”

The guard looked up in the sky. “I think it may be closer to early morning.” He started to speak, then corrected himself and drew himself up straight. He seemed to have something on the tip of his tongue, but Semote had no time for that right now.

“What is it? Speak your mind.”

The guard hesitated, then began to talk. “You asked me to tell you if I spotted anything suspicious.”

“Yes? Did you?”

“Earlier today, I saw Lucien run out to the broken stage.”

Semote stared back, uncomprehending. “Everyone knows that. He died there.”

The guard shook his head. “This was earlier in the day. Before all the commotion. He headed over there, spent a few minutes, and came back.”

“Really. One of two trips he made with no apparent purpose.” Semote stared off into space. “I promise it’s for a good reason, but if you could remind me of your name—”

“Dustin.” The guard coughed.

“Dustin, if we’re all still alive tomorrow, go find Rowena and have her give you a promotion. Time to run, Skye.”

Skye followed along pleadingly as their steps took them even farther away from the castle proper. “Where are we going now?”

“The stage.”

“But why? There’s nothing left of it.”

Semote took a breath. “The dagger remained hidden from when it was taken from Valerian’s room on the day of the riddles until the day Lucien died. We searched the castle, which means someone must have been hiding it elsewhere. I think we’ve found where Lucien was keeping it.”

“Wait.” Skye grabbed onto his arm, in a vain attempt to slow him down. “But if he was the one hiding the murder weapon, doesn’t that mean he’s guilty?”

“There are a lot more shades to that word than you might think.” Semote slowed down as they approached the pileup. He grimaced. The whole edifice was a mess, splinters and cracked boards everywhere. “I’ll start at one end. See if you can find anything that’s recently been moved. Anything that looks like a hiding spot.”

It was slow, agonizing work as they shifted boards, one after the other, looking for anything out of place. After a significant period of time had passed, Skye gave him an imploring look as if to ask, “do we still need to keep doing this?” Semote simply nodded back at her. The sun was beginning to come up as they searched, and it didn’t look like they were making any progress.

“I’ve got something!” Skye finally called out. Semote hurried over, his body still full of frantic energy. Hidden near the center of the wreckage was a cloth bag. Skye opened it up, and Semote peered inside, trying to imagine what Lucien might have left for them.

Inside was a white glove. Spotless, like it had never been worn, except for a slight discoloration in the palm, stretching out to the thumb on its right. Right-handed, then.

Skye reached in to remove the glove, but Semote stopped her hand. “No. For the love of all that is good and holy, do not touch that thing.”

Skye looked back at him, puzzled. “But why? Isn’t this whatever you were looking for?”

“I think it’s exactly what we’re looking for. But believe me when I say you can not touch it or let anyone see it. Here.” He handed the cloth bag over to her. “Hold onto it. Do not let it out of your sight. Don’t let me touch it. Don’t let anyone else touch it. Do not let a moment go by where you are not completely sure you know where this bag is. This is everything, right here.”

Skye looked back at him in bewilderment. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“That’s fine. I do.” Semote let out a deep breath. “We need to find Rowena.”

The first rays of the sun were beginning to alight when they made their way back into the castle, breathlessly racing up sets of stairs before reaching Rowena’s room. Semote raised his hand to knock on Rowena’s door, but Skye pushed it open for him, looking around quickly before gesturing to Semote. “Let me check her dressing room. You can wait here.”

Semote stepped inside, taking a deep breath as he thought through everything he planned to say. His eyes took a swift tour of the room, from what looked like a more comfortable bed than he had ever slept on, to a pile of books that must have been Rowena’s reading backlog, and coming to a halt at a table with sixteen cards resting on it.

Semote took a step inward to look at the table. There were seven pairs of cards arranged at the bottom in a semicircle, with a single pair offsetting them at the top. “These are Tarot cards. Did your sister have a reading done?”

“She did, I think it stuck with her.” Skye called out from an adjoining room. “Some fortuneteller she saw, said there were seven men coming to seek her hand. Apparently you’re—”

“The Hermit and the Magician.” Semote looked down at the cards. “Obviously. But this is uncanny, this lines up perfectly. This is all of them, the whole thing, right here. Except—” Semote paused for a second. “You said seven. If I’m right, this is missing—”

Skye came back into the room with an anxious look on her face. “She’s not here. She must already be at the wedding, they’re probably waiting for me to start.”

“Ah.” Semote paused, still studying the cards laid out on the table. “From what I can tell, this is not a reading that ends well for her. Was she worried—”

“Semote.” Skye was looking at him like she wanted to shake him. “Do you hear me? She is already at the wedding. This means—”

“I know, I know.” Semote shook his head, trying to focus. “I finally understand everything that’s happened this last week. And more importantly, I can prove it. I know what I have to do.”

Skye shook her head, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. “And what exactly are you going to do?”

“I’m going to change—” Semote paused for a second, as the imprecision ate at him. “Speaking strictly as a metaphor of course, and not saying I endorse the underlying metaphysics…”

Skye waved her hand impatiently, and Semote took a deep breath, deciding to just get to the point. His eyes fell on the table where the Devil card stared back at him, with the Wheel of Fortune resting on top of it. Semote made eye contact with Skye, then picked up the Wheel of Fortune card and inverted it as she watched, hoping she understood what he meant without him having to say it. “I’m going to change fate.”

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Last chance to share your theories, or Tarot card allocations for suitors!

To be concluded in Chapter 12, now available here: