Chapter 36: Plan

Shiori closed her eyes, thinking through her plan. If The Last Word didn’t have any tricks, she’d have to work with what she had.

She checked the window bars and found them solid. She was at least three stories up. Even if she got through the window, the fall would likely kill her.

She checked her connection with Symphon again, estimating over an hour before he arrived. This would be easier if their connection went both ways.

She wished she had somewhere to write down her thoughts as she reread key parts of The Last Word.

The Aqra wouldn’t fully dissolve before Symphon arrived. She had time, but doubted he’d be strong enough to defeat the Duke. She needed to give him an advantage.

She flipped over the part of her story where Motohara was under her spell and many others from Duke Praetor. She had felt a connection to Motohara, to his emotions, that allowed her to detect the Duke’s spells.

In fact, Shiori was certain that the Duke would be far better at using that kind of connection than her. He was an ancient master of the art of spells.

The Duke would be keeping tabs on her the same way. That’s why there were no guards in her room. He would be monitoring her feelings for any sign of escape.

Next, she knew what his Symphon’s name meant.

She reread Motohara’s words: “Symphon means ‘harmony’ in Karthan. She had a fool idea of restoring the old days when Speakers worked together, shared their names, shared power, and defended the peace. She hoped for ‘harmony’.”

Harmony. Speakers used to share their names. Kawamura’s books discussed how Speakers had changed their tactics over time.

The more Shiori thought about Kawamura’s books, the more she realized Kawamura didn’t know everything about Nyx. The ancient histories were vague, and the recent ones were missing bits.

Kawamura had been a real, imperfect person in Nyx collecting the history of the Realms. But, Motohara knew about Speakers working together.

Shiori found a comfortable position on the bed and reached out to her connection with Symphon. At first, Symphon was startled as her touch roiled his power and weakened him like during his fight with Motohara.

With practice, Shiori became more familiar with the connection. Symphon’s startled emotion turned to elated surprise. He understood this part of her plan. Good.

Next, Shiori tore the room apart. She stacked chairs and disassembled the bed. She dragged the mattress onto the floor. The sharpest thing in the room was a dull letter opener on the desk.

After those preparations, there was only waiting. She tried not to think, but it was hopeless. She felt hopeless.

She had avoided rereading the Duke’s words during his battle with Motohara and Symphon. She couldn’t say she had been part of that battle, and she was sick of feeling useless when trouble came. She wanted to fight back.

She distracted herself by humming or looking at the nauseating display of death that twitched and floated in the blue bottle of half-ready Barren Draught.

The Duke had a spell on her. She struggled to keep it intact. He was controlling her, but two could play that game. It was vital she not break the spell too soon.

The minutes stretched on forever as her anxiety increased. But when she sensed Symphon nearing the keep, it seemed too fast.

This was it.

She left The Last Word open, hidden under the desk, to the section with Duke Praetor’s words from that fight. The spell he put on her had to be in those words.

Symphon steeled himself as he prepared to attack the keep. As he pressed down his anxiety and prepared to attack, she felt his resolve.

Shiori grabbed the letter opener and climbed the teetering stack of chairs and other furniture. Her heart raced as the stack nearly collapsed more than once.

After reaching the top, she looked down at the pile of pillows, swallowing. She felt nervous, which was good for her plan. This next part had to go perfectly.

Shiori closed her eyes, turned around, and readied the letter opener.

Before she could think and ruin the plan, she fell backward.

When she had sat on them, the pillows and mattress had seemed soft. But when they were the only thing between her fall and the stone floor, they felt less soft.

As she hit the floor, she jabbed the letter opener into her right leg. It hurt, but she worried it didn’t hurt enough. The letter opener was too dull to cut her skin, but she remembered Symphon’s broken arm. She stabbed at her leg again.

Next, she hid and waited.

Her heart raced. Seconds felt like minutes. She’d feel like an idiot if this didn’t work.

But her plan worked as intended.

The Duke burst through the oak door and with a shrill word unlocked the polished brass gate.

“The damned girl!” he said as he ran to a window. Shiori had tied her bed linens into a makeshift rope, attached it to the bars over one window, and tossed the rest out.

“How did she get through?” he exclaimed, slapping the bars in frustration.

The first part of the plan had worked. She felt Symphon growing closer as he stormed the keep.

Shiori had noticed that the spell she had accidentally put on Motohara gave her a connection to him, especially when she was aware of the spell.

The connection granted by a spell was weaker than knowing a true name, like what she had with Symphon. But that spell connection had allowed her to detect the Duke’s spells on Motohara and later free him from those spells.

The Duke was using his spell to monitor her, but that gave her a chance to manipulate him in turn.

Shiori couldn’t escape through the barred windows, but her fake fall and fake leg pain must have convinced the Duke that she had managed to escape but fell.

The distraction didn’t last long. That was where the second part of the plan started.

“Oh,” the Duke said, turning to look exactly where she was hiding under the desk. He used his spell connection to her to find her. “What dost thou mean to accomplish by this?” the Duke asked as Shiori moved to the second step of her plan.

Symphon had entered the keep unnoticed by the Duke. Now she needed to let him know her location. But her connection to him was only one-way.

During her depressed sobbing, she realized she couldn’t blame anyone but herself. She was incapable of thinking badly of anyone. She couldn’t hate the Duke for being evil. Couldn’t blame her parents for not telling her about her heritage sooner.

She had reread Tsubame’s words in The Last Word and it had given her an idea: “You’re the most important friend I’ve ever had. You’re the only person I haven’t had to manipulate into liking me. You liked me for who I am.”

Tsubame had never manipulated Shiori, but under this spell Shiori couldn’t blame Tsubame for anything. It was like a spell had been cast on her that prevented bad feelings toward anyone.

She understood the spell’s effect, but she needed to know more to break it.

In her hiding place under the desk, there was enough light to read the Duke’s words: “Love of all, love for all, means abandoning laws and common morality for something greater.”

Shiori began feeling a familiar headache. The Duke’s spell had manipulated her sense of love, making her unable to hate anyone, including him. That was why she hadn’t been able to cast spells against him.

The Duke hid his poisonous spell in words about love. Motohara said Speaking spells was about more than the words, they were about the person Speaking the spells.

Shiori was sure the Duke’s feelings about love were as twisted as the rest of him.

She stood up from her hiding place.

The Duke frowned as her skin began to glow softly, then with brilliant incandescence.

Shiori struggled to stay conscious as the light she cast spread out the windows where Symphon would surely see it.