— Sarlan Greaves, “A Hunter’s Guide to the Parasitic,” Page 3
Lucette gave Draven a flat, unamused stare. “Do I honestly need to explain it?”
He grinned, backing off and pacing toward the center of his chambers. “If it means I get to bask in the sweet sound of your voice for but a moment longer, then yes.”
She crossed her arms and merely stared. She had heard of his facial injuries, but had never thought they would be this grotesque. In a way, she was proud of Mina for landing the blow, though there were other areas of his body she would have found far more amusing for her to douse with holy water.
“I must say, this truly is a surprise. I was informed you would be enjoying a cushy seat at Alnwick for the foreseeable future.”
“And I could be there right now,” she said, agitated. “I could be enjoying a bloodbath while having my feet massaged, or having my pick from Malrik’s best breeders, but instead, I’m here. All you had to do was answer her.”
Draven peered over to the shattered mirror. “A shame she hasn’t been able to reach me.”
“She's growing impatient.”
Draven let out a soft, derisive sigh. “The Queen’s curiosity is a gilded cage she locks herself in. Let her muse all she wants, and simply tell her this: my wounds are healed. My men have continued the search in my stead, albeit with less success than I’d hoped. I am ready to resume personally. The hunt will proceed with renewed vigor.” He strolled over to the gas lamp on his desk and lit it. The black fabric of Lucette’s cloak drank the faint glow and swallowed it until there was nothing left. She remained pressed against the wall, arms folded and eyes narrowed.
“You call that healed?” She gestured toward his face.
“Healed as can be. You know there is only one remedy to mend my visage.”
“Perhaps if you were half the warrior you claim to be, you’d have pushed through the pain and tracked down Mina yourself. You’d be healed by now.”
And like that, Draven’s smirk was replaced with a dark scowl. “You know not the pain of holy water. It burns, Lucette. It—” He paused, tilting his head. Realization crossed his face. “How did you know?”
A slow, wide grin stretched across her face. “That my sister has the Conduit? Did you think I only just arrived? That I haven’t overheard your every word?”
Draven went silent for a moment, rigid, almost. “What else have you heard?”
“That, from the sounds that succubus was making last night, you haven’t improved much.”
He growled.
Lucette smirked. “She’s faking it, you know.”
“That’s enough…” he snapped.
“How often have you heard her say that?”
“So what now, Lucette?” he said, sharply veering the conversation back on topic. His claws extended, and he flashed his fangs in a snarl. “You’re to return home and whisper in mommy's ear? Reveal my follies to her?”
Lucette dropped her arms and circled him slowly. “One year, Draven. One year since my dearest sister took the Conduit and melted your pretty face. And in all that time, you haven’t informed my mother? Not one letter, not a raven or messenger. Rumors have reached Alnwick that you’re held up here, that the great Lord Draven is ‘healing’ in his moldering asylum while succubi warm his sheets and fledgling whelps chase shadows in his stead.” She paused behind him.
“And that, darling, is precisely why you will never stand where I do,” he answered confidently. “You would scour the land yourself. I prefer quantity, my sweet. A thousand hounds are worth more than a single nightingale, however exquisite her song.”
Lucette stepped into his line of sight again, chin high. “Do your thousand hounds know you’re wasting their time? Sending them to their deaths? Are they aware that you already know where Mina resides? Do they even know about your ‘eye’?”
His gaze narrowed.
Lucette grinned. “Mother always did appreciate hearing about where she was. ‘She never lingers, moves from place to place. Vanishes like mist at dawn, only to appear three towns over by nightfall.’ But you know what I think? I think you’re not telling her the whole story. When her family was still alive, she wasn’t always on the road. She resided somewhere. She still does, doesn’t she? You know where that is.”
Draven said nothing.
“I thought so.” Lucette’s smile widened until her fangs glinted. “Why keep it from mother? Why lead her on, that Mina lives as a nomad? Why send your poor enthralled darlings on these pointless hunts? You sent your general to Brozegr?d when you knew she wasn’t there? Why send your hunters anywhere? You could storm her home at any time and rip the Conduit from her fingers and bathe your ruined face until it’s beautiful again.” She leaned closer. “Unless, of course, the Conduit is exactly where you need her to be.”
Draven gave her a theatrical smile. “What are you suggesting?”
“Must I really spell it out? You're plotting something. You know where the Conduit is. So why pretend otherwise?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
Lucette rolled her eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Draven. I know you too well. I know you’re a conniving weasel. I’ve seen it in your eyes before. Deep down, you want the throne, and now that the Conduit is within your grasp, you’re going to use her, aren’t you? You’re going to use her to kill—” Pain exploded across her spine. The stone wall behind her cracked from the impact. The wind was knocked from her lungs, but when she gasped for air, she struggled. Draven’s fingers were tight around her throat, his claws digging into her skin. Lucette choked out a laugh, clawing at his wrist. “Mmm, and here I thought you didn’t like getting rough.”
His grip tightened. “If you think that you will slither out of this crypt and whisper but a word to your mother, you are mistaken.”
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“Oh, I’m sure Mother would adore the bedtime story. Her favorite hound is plotting against her, to use the very thing she has tasked him to find.”
His claws sank deeper. A thin rivulet of blood slid down her collarbone.
“You’re lucky I have no intention of telling her,” she wheezed. The pressure eased, and Lucette coughed.
Confusion crossed Draven’s ruined face. “Come again?”
“I wanna help.”
He released Lucette so suddenly that she nearly slid down the wall. She steadied herself, rubbing her neck. It only took a second to heal. “Explain,” Draven demanded.
Lucette straightened her cloak. “We want the same thing. Mother dethroned. Preferably beheaded.”
A long silence filled the room. It was almost amusing to see the gears turning in Draven’s head. His face contorted as he tried to piece together what she had said.
“Why?” he managed.
“My motivations aren’t important. What matters is this: I’m the only one who’s seen through you. Mother still believes you to be loyal, as do the rest of the council members. They believe that, for now, you’re still recovering. But they’re growing impatient. Your silence hasn’t been helping. I suspected something, but kept quiet, because I know you. You deserve more than she gives you. You put in more effort, so why not reap the fruits of your labor? You’re always plotting something, keeping everyone in the dark. But not me. Not anymore.”
Draven studied her for a moment. “You are playing a game.”
“Maybe,” she smirked. “But what does it matter. I could return home and tell my mother of your plan to overthrow her, specifics unheard of, of course, or you can accept my help, and we can take her down together.”
“And how am I to trust you of all people?”
“What choice do you have? Tell me your plan, and I’ll help where I can. I’ll fabricate a satisfying story for mother to buy you more time if needed.”
Slowly, Draven’s grin returned. “You haven’t changed a bit. Very well.”
Lucette leaned back against the very wall she had just been smashed against. It was too easy.
“Yes,” Draven said, almost triumphantly, “I know where the Conduit is.” He closed his eyes. When they opened again, the left iris burned with a soft, crimson glow. “Avians. Sparrows, ravens, and the occasional kestrel. They perch in the eaves, the yew branches, the rooftops. They have watched Whilimina for years. Long before she ever scorched my face and took the Conduit.”
Lucette arched a brow. “Mother asked you to keep an eye on Mina after we killed her family, right? How long did it take you to find her?”
“A few months more than I care to admit aloud,” he said. “But I found her nonetheless.”
“And you never thought to mention this to Mother because…?”
“Your mother cared very little for where she resided. She only really cared for her mental state. She still believes that one day Whilimina will calm down from her rampage and come crawling back to Alnwick. She’s ready to accept her with open arms.”
“My mother is a bit of a fool for believing Mina would ever come back after what she did.”
“A mother's love twists her perception.”
“So where is it? Her home?”
He tilted his head. “A gentleman never reveals his secrets without reciprocity. Tell me why you want your mother dead.”
Lucette shrugged. “A lady must keep some mysteries, even from her future king. For now.”
He laughed. “Very well. Keep your pretty secrets. I will keep mine a moment longer.” Draven walked over to the cracked mirror and traced his fingers along the glass. “Originally, the plan was simple. Capture the Conduit, bring her here, let the succubi peel away every shred of resistance until she knelt at my feet like an obedient mutt. Then train her, aim her, and watch her burn Queen Lockhart’s heart to cinders while I stepped over the ashes to take the throne.” He turned back to face her. “Whilimina complicated things. The night she splashed holy water across my face, I was… inconvenienced. My gift guttered like a candle in a storm. For months, I could barely see past my own nose, let alone through a sparrow’s eye. Healing took time.”
Lucette’s smile sharpened. “So you saw another path.”
“I saw a better one. Let Whilimina do the tedious work. Let her train the girl, teach her control, discipline, the power of her blood. When the Conduit is ripe, I stroll in, take her, break what Whilimina built, and rebuild it to my specifications. Whilimina will come for her, of course. She will die screaming for her trouble. But until that night, my hunters will continue to prowl the streets. I must have everyone believe the hunt is still going whilst I recover, and no one knows I have been watching the Conduit grow stronger all along.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Draven.”
“Perhaps, but the prospects are too great. The risk is worth it.
Lucette pushed off the wall. “And once Emily is here? She is not some trembling fledgling. She’ll be a seasoned warrior, trained by Mina herself. How do you propose to keep her… complacent?”
Draven grinned. “Two reasons, my darling sceptic. First, the Peccatum Ironguard have refined silver cuffs. They choke magic the way a collar chokes breath. Perfect for restraining and detaining any spellcasters. Second, I hold the greatest leash imaginable.” He gestured lazily toward the corridor. “You have skulked these halls long enough to notice my personal servants, have you not? Eldric and Selene. They’re the Conduit’s parents.”
Lucette’s brows lifted. “You cannot be serious.”
“Oh, but I am. The succubus you so brazenly observed last night; Her name is Xeliara. She has been conducting her own investigation into them. She kissed them both and saw straight to the marrow of their souls. Their true names are Arthur and Clara Wisteria. Parents to one Emily Wisteria, the Conduit.”
“How are you so certain?”
“Xeliara claims to have seen the Conduit in their minds. I had a suspicion and requested a list of students who had enrolled in Peccatum University and Elkvale from my spies. Surly enough, we found Emily Wisteria was enrolled some years ago, though she was dropped, surprisingly. Her parents' names were registered there too. What's more fascinating is that Xeliara confirmed they hail from Pillio’s Watch. One of my spawn vanished from there a year ago, and I had rightly assumed Whilimina was involved. The parents were turned, she saved them, and sent them to infiltrate first Baroness Verena, then me. They believe they are deep behind enemy lines, feeding information to their daughter’s protector, waiting to spring their daughter free once we capture her.” He laughed softly. “They polish my boots and pour my wine while plotting my downfall. It is exquisite.”
Lucette stared, then threw her head back and laughed. “You’re keeping them as pets.”
“Admittedly, they’re more useful to the asylum under my command than in a cell. But, they think they’ve successfully infiltrated us. They’re comfortable, willing to take risks. Of course, they’re familiar with succubi. They’re aware Xeliara knows their true intentions. I had her feed them a false narrative on how I refused to let the succubi expand the nest, and how she would tell me everything if they didn’t help her with spreading her sisters across Outer Peccatum. They scurry about ‘helping’ Xeliara in exchange for her silence. Truthfully, I couldn’t give a damn what the succubi do. When the time comes, I will show them their daughter in chains, let them watch her break, and drink the moment hope dies in their eyes.”
“As I said, you’re playing a dangerous game.”
“Yes, but the time draws near,” he continued, pacing again. “My gift is nearly restored, though still weak. Through the sparrows, I can see Mina has done her work well. Soon, the Conduit will be ready for the final forging. And I will be ready to collect.”
“Word will spread the instant she arrives. Succubi gossip worse than washerwomen. By the time you sail to Alnwick, mother will know you have the Conduit.”
“Which is why we will need to be swift. The moment the Conduit is inside, the succubi begin. They can shatter a mind in nights. By the time any whisper reaches Alnwick, the girl will kneel at my side, broken as a whore. Lockhart will see only a loyal hound delivering the ultimate weapon. And when she reaches for it, when she finally stands close enough to gloat, the Conduit will place her palm over the Queen’s heart and turn two thousand years of tyranny into ash.”
Lucette hummed, circling Draven again. “And if Mina arrives early? If she burns this place to the ground trying to retrieve her pupil?”
“Then I will greet her personally,” Draven said, “and thank her for the gift she has so thoughtfully prepared.”
“If Emily’s will is stronger than your succubi anticipate?”
“They have broken saints older than nations.”
“If one of your thralls defects? If a raven carries the wrong message north?”
“Every message that leaves this asylum is mine. Every thrall who breathes my air is bound by blood.”
Lucette stopped in front of him, head tilted. “You have an answer for everything.”
“I have had centuries to practice,” he said modestly.
She studied him for a long moment, then smiled. “It might just work,” she said encouragingly.
Draven’s brow arched. “High praise from a daughter of the Queen.”
“How can I be of assistance in all of this?”
“My sight still falters, especially under prolonged strain. I need you to trail General Marcellus. His patrol will cross paths with our prey soon enough, I have seen it. You will be there to observe the confrontation. Report back to me exactly how well our little weapon has been honed.”
“Sacrificing your own general?” she chuckled.
“He will prove a strong test for the Conduit.”
“How twisted,” she said with a grin. “I love it.”
Draven smirked. “Help me ensure the Conduit is secure, and together, we can bring down Queen Lockhart.”
Lucette nodded. “Right. Together.”
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