Page 163 of Fallacies

I’m so relieved to see him in one piece that my words come out breathless. “Mr. Vitale.” I hurry down the aisle, sparking an orb of light above me. “Are you okay? That Rogue was⁠—”

“I had a feeling it was you who intervened.”

The light hits his face, and I can’t help but wince at his wounds. One of his eyes is black and purple, nearly swollen shut, and there’s a cut on his lip that hasn’t fully stopped bleeding.

And yet, he manages a smile, as if it isn’t there at all.

“I’m much better now that you’re here.” Callan’s father reaches further through the bars, offering me his hand. “But please, call me Grey.”

38

Lucina

“Grey,” I repeat with a smile, and take the hand he offers. Instead of shaking it, he simply holds it, curling his fingers around my palm. “I’m Lucina.”

“Lucina,” he grins, appreciating the name, shaking his head as he takes me in. “The last time I saw you, your baby hairs had just started to curl.” Grey’s focus drifts to the ends of my hair. “You look just like her. I knew you would.”

There’s a brief silence, and in it, I watch his hopeful expression fade into something grim. “She didn’t make it, did she?” Grey asks.

I swallow against the sudden lump in my throat, looking away when he lifts his eyes to mine. I don’t need clarification to know he’s talking about my mother. I didn’t resemble Sable in the way I resembled Esme—she and I could have been twins.

“I’m sorry,” Grey says.

My avoidance of the question had been answer enough.

“It’s not your fault,” I tell him.

“No, but I knew.” He lets go of my hand, drawing in a deep breath. “She left here with you, and I just had this…feeling. Esme never admitted it, but I’m pretty sure she did too. Out of all her plans, I think she knew there was really only one way it would end. Both of you surviving was…wishful thinking.”

My brows furrow. “Her plans?”

Grey nods. “But you’re here now,” his gaze lifts to the orb above us, “and you’ve had your Split.”

A brief flash of a pummeling wave flashes before my eyes—the chilling memory of the riptide pulling me beneath the surface of the Cove. I shake out my limbs and nod. “I have.”

Attention falling back to me, there’s a knowing glint in his stare. “Both of them?” he asks.

The question shocks me enough that my hold on my magic falters and the light above us flickers. I try to wipe the sudden panic off my face, but I’m not sure it’s working. “You…know?”

“Of course I know,” he whispers back. “That was the plan.”

“What plan?”

Grey watches me for a moment, suddenly silent. I can tell he wants to backtrack, judging by the hesitance on his face. He shakes his head again. “I don’t…I don’t think it should come from me.”

“Who should it come from, then?” At my question, his jaw tightens. “Both of my parents are dead,” I remind him. “So is Sable.”

“Sable had nothing to do with this.”

“But you did?”

His nod is shallow, but it’s confirmation all the same.

“Please.” I level a stare with him. “Please, tell me.”

Grey rolls his lips together, then settles back against the bars, shackled wrists dangling through the metal. I hate that this is how we’re speaking—holding each other's attention through a gap in his cage. I hate that I can see scarred skin beneath his chains. Raised flesh circling his wrist.

“Your father,” he starts, keeping his voice low, “He put us all in here. Esme included.” Grey gestures to the empty space behind him, and my mouth dries out. “She and I were in this cell together. They killed every disciple-born, every high-ranked Sol…except for us. And except for my boy and whoever else managed to make it out that night. I was glad they spared us, but I never understood why they did.”