The Gilded Wolves (The Gilded Wolves, #1)(21)

“On what grounds would they deny an heir his inheritance?” asked Enrique.

Hypnos ticked off the reasons on his fingers. “They might not like how the child’s mind works, or who they love, or—”

“Or the Order might like their bloodlines nice and neat,” cut in Séverin, his voice distant. “Two heirs of mixed blood would not do. An easy solution is to choose one over the other.”

Hypnos’s jaw tightened. Gone was his lax demeanor. Regret twisted his handsome features. “If memory serves, you tried to tell me that years ago,” he said quietly.

“And if memory serves, you didn’t listen.”

Spots of color appeared on Hypnos’s cheeks. “As you so aptly pointed out, my very breath has been monitored by the Order since the day my father died and passed the Ring to me. But if you acquire this artifact for me, I will administer the inheritance test myself. No falsifications like last time. I can return your Ring to you … I know where it’s kept.”

Enrique felt as though all the air had been drained from the room. Séverin refused to look at Hypnos as he spoke. “What do you want?”

“A Horus Eye.”

Enrique sucked in his breath.

“Where is it?”

Hypnos hesitated for a moment, then said, “The vaults of House Kore.”

“No,” said Séverin immediately. “I am not stepping into that woman’s house.”

And no wonder, thought Enrique. The matriarch of House Kore must have helped falsify the results of the inheritance test that stole Séverin’s title.

“Just before the auction, she was viciously attacked,” said Hypnos. “Her Ring was stolen.”

“Probably an inside job,” said Séverin. “We don’t get involved with those.”

We. Enrique felt a thrill of pride. That’s right! he wanted to say. But he didn’t.

“I’m not asking you to find her Ring,” said Hypnos. “There are people already dedicated to that search. What I’d like your help for goes beyond that. As I’m sure you haven’t forgotten, the Rings of our Houses guard the location of the West’s Babel Fragment.”

Séverin laughed. “And do you think this mastermind thief knows the Fragment’s location and wishes to perform some nefarious activity there with the stolen Ring? Because as I recall, revealing the Fragment’s location requires two Rings, not one. Your precious knowledge should stay safe.”

Enrique knew little about the inner workings of the Order, but Séverin had once told him that knowledge about the location of the West’s Fragment circulated among the Houses of different empires every century. France was the most recent possessor of the location’s knowledge. If the Ring of House Kore had truly been stolen, that knowledge would be in grave danger. And if Séverin was right and the theft was an inside job, then that made all the more sense why Hypnos would want to steal rather than inquire after the Horus Eye.

If House Kore had been compromised from the inside, then no one in the House was trustworthy. And if, by some chance, the thief had taken the Ring to the Fragment’s location, then looking through the Horus Eye would immediately reveal its whereabouts.

“With a single Ring, the Fallen House nearly threw the world off balance,” said Hypnos. “They paid the price, to be certain, but history always repeats itself.”

Enrique remembered the Forged threshold of the Palais Garnier as he was leaving the auction. An image stood out in his mind: a peeling hexagram on a gilt mirror. The symbol of the disgraced Fallen House. Something about that hexagram sat heavily in his thoughts.

“And, if I may be so bold, which I am, so I will … you have no choice but to help me, Séverin.”

“You can threaten me with imprisonment, but I’ll get out. You could set your guards on us, but I’ve already planted an incendiary sphere, and I could have this place up in flames before you take a single step,” said Séverin.

Enrique bit back a grin. Séverin’s lie at the entrance. The small knife he’d surrendered without complaint. He’d distracted the guard with a false weapon while hiding the real one.

“When did you—”

Séverin smiled. “I had to do something to pass the time while you were making eyes at my historian.”

“Wait. I was bait?” demanded Enrique.

“You’re flattered.”

Maybe a little.

When Hypnos looked around the room, Séverin waved his hand. “Don’t bother. You won’t find it in time. And I won’t go anywhere near that House,” said Séverin, turning on his heel. “Perhaps we can work out a different agreement. In the meantime, Enrique and I must be going.”

Hypnos loosed a breath. “I hate when I have to do this! Flaring tempers, veiled threats, ugh. It ages me, mon cher, and I detest that.”

Hypnos stomped his foot. An image rippled across the surface of the scarlet rug. Nausea twisted through Enrique. Before him wavered an image of three kneeling bodies in the distance … their heads bent forward, hands bound … but the shapes were unmistakable.

Laila.

Zofia.

Tristan.

Séverin immediately paled.

“You see? You can walk out and survive. But I can’t say the same for the rest. I want an oath that you’ll return the compass, go to House Kore, and get me that Horus Eye,” said Hypnos, holding out the Forged quill that tattooed oaths. “Do this, Séverin, and I can give you back your House.”