His brother’s face, a mirror of his own, was as hard and unforgiving as the face of an automaton. “She’s a means to an end, Jess. The sooner you learn to shed your sentimentality, the better off you’ll be. Now. You didn’t come here to check on me—I know you better than that. Why did you? And don’t tell me Father sent you.” He looked, just for a moment, less cynical. Almost concerned. “Jess? You look . . . troubled.”

I’m taking on a battle I know I can’t win. I felt trapped and desperate, and I thought my brother would tell me everything would be all right. I wanted to feel . . . safe. Just for a while.

But he should have known better. The Brightwells weren’t a family. They were a business—first, last, always.

“It doesn’t matter,” he told his brother, and made for the door. “Never mind.”

EPHEMERA

From a personal journal by Brendan Brightwell, written in family code. Burned in Alexandria on departure.

I know how this will sound, but Jess—my brother—and I, we’ve never been right. It’s as if we compete for the same breaths even out of the womb, and he’s always been just a little bigger, a little stronger, a little older. I’ve always run just a half step behind in his shadow, and God knows there have been times when I hated him just for existing. Like he’s stolen something from me.

So how can that excuse what I’m doing to Neksa? I don’t know. Maybe because Jess has to be the hero, I have to be the villain. The dark to his light. Or maybe I’m just trying, for once, to prove that I’m better at something than he is, even if that something is cruelty. Leaves a bloody taste in my mouth and ashes in my stomach every time I think what could happen—no, will happen—to Neksa if all this comes off. She’s just a key to a lock, is all. That’s what I keep telling myself. Access to the Archivist himself—isn’t that worth any cost, any price? In one stroke, I’ll eclipse my brother, earn my father’s undying respect, become a legend in our black-market world. People will fear and respect me.

Surely it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

And yet I’m sitting awake tonight, writing this down, because I lied to Jess, and he believed me. I told him I didn’t care about Neksa, and, God help me, that was the biggest lie of my life. She’s not just a key, not just a tool, not just another woman I can push away. She’s . . . I don’t know. Everything.

I never meant to fall in love with any girl, much less a good, true Library girl who trusts me not to hurt her. I’ve spent months telling myself that I’m just biding my time, building her trust until it’s time to use her as I see fit, but tonight, looking into my twin’s eyes, I realized that the only person I’ve really been lying to is myself.