Crescent (Book 1)

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Jackaby's offices are the same as I remember it except for the fact that not a single thing is out of place. While there'd been bottles and glass insectaries strewn all over last time, now everything is tidy. Wiped clean. Still smelling heavily of bleach. And Jackaby is noticeably missing. My guards keep a respectful distance just outside the hall, and while I know I only have a few minutes, I set to work.

I quietly rifle through drawers, opening cabinets as I search the hall. Behind one door, I find a large laundry room with white linens hanging across lines tracking the ceiling. Most of the rooms are jam-packed with supplies, but I'm surprised to stumble across one that's mostly empty. Seven cots with threadbare, yellowing pillows and paper thin blankets form a straight line down the room.

It isn't the cots that makes my hair stand on end. It's the pool of blood on the floor that makes me freeze in place. The blood is a deep russet, suggesting it's probably been there for awhile, but there's enough of it to suggest it didn't just come from a small wound.

A sound down the hall has me shutting the door quickly, and I straighten when Jackaby hobbles in. For a moment, he squints, eyes narrowing as he looks at me through his glasses. His eyes widen in recognition.

"You beat me down here," he chuckles, but the sound is lost as I look at the shaky wrinkled hands by his side. They're covered in tiny red pin-pricks- ones I've had on my neck enough to know that they come from a particular needle Saren uses.

"Are you alright?" I ask, but I already know the next thing out of his mouth will be a lie:

"Oh, me? I'm just old." Jackaby frowns, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his cloak, the same one he'd been wearing yesterday when he left the tower. "Lord Shawcross said you needed to see me?"

My stomach tightens without warning, and I hide my discomfort behind a rigid smile. "Yep. My shoulder again. I can't move without hurting it."

Still hiding his hands, he limps toward one of the rooms I know houses generous amounts of bottled substances in its cabinets. His eyes squint hard again as his finger bounces over the labels, reading them under his breath. "Verra, Quadricil, Salted Bronwood, Hot Applewick...."

He stumbles through the cabinetry for a minute before he finally spots a miniature bottle the size of my pinky.

The bottle is unlabeled, but he hands it to me, his mind seemingly elsewhere as he adds, "Take that with dinner tonight. And drink lots of water with it. It'll dry you out faster than the sun in the Southern Sands."

I eye his hands again, noting the tremor along with it, as I take the bottle and stuff it in one of the deep pockets of my tunic. I still can't feel him out. "I'm learning to dance tonight. Isn't that exciting?"

Jackaby smiles for the first time today. "Dancing? I haven't danced in... Why." He scratches the wispy white hairs on his chin. "It's been many long years since I've danced with a pretty gal like you."

"You've danced since the last gala, right?"

"Yes, maybe. My memory isn't what it once was, but I remember... I took a girl to a dance decades ago. She was a pretty thing. Pretty eyes- a nice smile. I stepped on her feet more than a few times," he chuckles, and the hesitation previously in his voice slips away. "Don't tell me no one's ever taken you dancing."

I can't help the smile on my face. "I think dancing in the mortal realms is a bit different than it is here."

"It can't be that different."

A memory, white hot like it only happened yesterday, flashes in my mind.

I picture the night I snuck out- the same night I got in trouble with Mom and Dad. That night had been wild. Bodies clamoring on the dance floor. Music loud in my ears. Lights bright and flashing like starlight exploding in a thousand different directions all at once. I grabbed some random guy from the bar and pulled him toward the dancefloor with me.

Our hips were pressed against each other, our arms overhead, breaths mingling between us as we swayed like blades of grass in the wind. It was all about swaying, feet rooted in place, and hips making slow circles as the music sounded on.

I smile at Jackaby again, shaking off the memory. "You'd be surprised."

"I bet I would."

The silence that comes after brings that frown to his face again, and I take the chance to ask before it's gone. "Well, what kind of trouble are you getting into tonight?"

Jackaby's laugh is small but hearty. "I think I've got my work cut out for me down here. It never seems to stop. I'm getting much to old-"

"Is it because of the security breaches?" I say too quickly.

His thick brows knot, but I'm glad when he finally sighs. "I hired on an apprentice to help with all these injured soldiers. It's like I said. I'm just too old to be doing all this. I need the extra help."

I can't imagine what all his job might entail, but he's confirmed one thing for sure: The security breaches are still happening- and that means that whoever was behind the attack at Ceth's party and behind Laura and the other spies... they're still out there.

"Maybe you can join me one evening..." I smile. "In the library while we dance. Once I learn, of course. I'm sure I'll need the practice, and we would be perfect partners."

His smile is bright as he nods, grabbing my hands in his. "I would love that."

"Then, it's a date."