The City of Crows by Bethany Lovejoy (novels in english .txt) 📗

seemed fitting that the ancestors of those very witches had set forth deals to take it all back.

My cheek hit the side of a blue, woolen rug, smashing my jaw shut. No doubt there would be bruises, but those paled in comparison to the pain of the future. Behind me, the doors groaned shut, blue high heels and black leather shoes strolling into the room. The gang was all there, I figured from the scarlet red pumps in my vision, a pair of brown loafers to the left. There were more, far too many more. I didn’t allow my eyes to travel the room, lest I see how many were there and became unsettled. How many had I passed on the street? How many had I spoken to? How many did I know more intimately than I should? These facts shouldn’t have mattered, not in the end. I needed to keep a level head, I needed to keep my thoughts straight. This was not a situation I wanted to be in.

My head rolled against the carpet, hands pressing to either side of me in an attempt to get back to my feet. I fought the urge to groan, refusing to show any weakness as I slowly rose from the ground, steadying myself and facing forward. Familiarity, the gaunt, wrinkled face of the man who had once barged into my mother’s home all those years ago greeted me, grinning so that every single one of his yellowed teeth showed. Not a single face in the crowd matched his, the owner of his guise having long since passed away. He was the only one who sat, perched in the middle of them all on an ornate, throne-like chair likely taken from another room, I’d seen it used by the judges of the higher courts in New Haven. Upon realizing that I saw him too, he only grew more delighted, limbs stretching so that his bare feet could touch the ground; the blue suit he wore doing little to cover the bony expanse of his ankles.

“A gift,” Autumn told him, her smirk audible in her voice. “Just as you predicted, wandering the halls. Rowan seemed to have gotten her a bit lost, but don’t worry, I’ve brought her to you, master.” I could feel her beam as the man nodded in her direction, dismissing her.

“Lyra,” his familiar voice wheezed, his fingers tightening around the armrests of his chair. “I knew I would see you again, but for it to be so soon truly is a blessing.” Taking in my face, he continued, “Oh, should I switch into something a bit more palatable for you? You seem upset, I forgot how much this face worries you—”

“Don’t!” I snapped, my jaw tightening as I finally stood up to my full height. I didn’t want to see it again; I didn’t need to see it again. Worse yet, I didn’t want to see what face he would show me, not if it was Leo’s. “Please, just, stay… that way,” that awful, unsettling way. Age and wear were better than the alternatives, better than the nightmares that lurked in the back of my mind. “I-I remember, I prefer it this way.”

“As you desire,” the man croaked, slightly disappointed yet not complaining. “You are, after all, my honored guest. It would be rude to defy your wishes, especially after the length of time that we’ve been apart. Why, you were only six, and now look at you; a young woman. A shame, it’s just as it was then, you look so little like your mother. I suppose that must upset her.” As if I didn’t know, he added, “to have to look at his face every time she sees you, what a tremendous pain she must feel.”

“This isn’t about her,” I growled.

“Oh,” he said with a sigh, “I suppose you’re right. This isn’t about righting wrongs, taking back payment for what has been stolen, or revenge; not for you. But for me…” he cocked his head, with a sickening crunch that sounded like bones rearranging themselves. “I suppose for me it’s about all of those things, so you’ll have to excuse me. Looking at you now, seeing that you are nearly the same age she was; it feels right, it feels like retribution. Give or take, a few extra years of your lifespan, but—I think that’s only fair, don’t you? Revenge should garner interest of some sort, should it not?” Finally, he stood, his body stretching to a nearly inhuman height, the suit that he wore riding higher on his limbs. “Lydia played an unfair game, but you’re not like Lydia, are you? You won’t try to cheat me, to tell me that you no longer want my gifts, will you? Not when I promise you the boy with them, then you can’t say no, can you? You’ll play my games, you’ll heed my call without resistance, unlike that woman.” He paused, tongue running across dry, cracked lips, “a shame, I thought that Lydia would come to try to stop you. Looks like I haven’t hit quite the right nerve yet, but maybe, when I show up at her door with her daughter’s face then I will.”

“Maybe she had faith in me,” I said.

“Maybe,” doubt was heavy in his voice, almost as heavy as the humor. He fought back a laugh, stating, “You know, you’re far different than I thought you would be. I sent all these poor, cursed souls in Lydia’s direction for years, hoping that she would show an ounce of kindness, then be led back to me, enticed by the promise of power. But I do the same thing to you and look at you, it wasn’t pity that you felt. How cute of you, Lyra, to have fallen in love with a man who is so near death, who you shouldn’t have even thought twice about when passing by in the street. I whispered your name to him, enticements to find you now that