Chapter 23

The grip on his wrist looked, at a glance, gentle.

But it wasn't, not to Edgar.

It didn't hurt. But there wasn't a hint of slack in that hand. However hard he thrashed, there'd be no getting free. The gap between them was absolute.

There was nothing for it. The other man was a grown adult. In a child's body, Edgar was no match.

"This way."

The unnamed intruder led Edgar and Edwin along. With a blade in the man's hand, Edgar knew picking a fight would be stupid, but he didn't want to go quietly either, and he tensed the arm the man had hold of.

The man dragged him along as though he hadn't felt a thing. Edgar was pulled where the man wanted, half-lifted off the ground. It was obvious he'd only be dragged more roughly if he fell, so Edgar kept his feet under him.

They came out of the shed. The blue sky was blindingly, unfairly bright. The gardener's shed sat in a back corner of the Archibald garden. Even on a normal day, hardly anyone passed by.

He knew that ever since they'd started staying at the Archibald estate, the city watch had been posted on guard. He'd been hoping they'd cross paths with one of them, but going by the footsteps that had passed the shed earlier, that wasn't likely.

The man dragged Edgar and Edwin along without hesitation. You could feel the commotion inside the manor even from out here. The man snickered.

"I saw the messenger from the Bertholdt domain earlier, you see. Came earlier than expected, but no matter."

His face twisted as though sneering, but his voice was warm as anything. If it weren't for the rough hold on him, Edgar might have been fooled.

The man dodged people expertly. He wasn't slowing down even a little, and Edgar found himself out of breath.

Edgar looked at Edwin, who was being dragged along the same way. When their eyes met, Edwin gave him a small smile. Somehow, seeing that, tears rose in Edgar's eyes.

What was he thinking right now?

His twin was naive enough to swallow I came back from the future without a moment's doubt. He might be thinking this was something that had already happened in the past Edgar knew.

It wasn't hard to guess how Edwin's mind was working.

If Edgar hadn't said anything, then it was nothing to worry about — that was the calm assumption.

Edwin probably didn't really think that. Since they were small, he and Edgar had been told they took after their father — mature for their age. Never the other way around.

Even now, Edwin sometimes said things that made Edgar want to tear his hair out, but he was never stupid.

But how was anyone supposed to know what an eight-year-old was really thinking?

"Little masters, you're going to stay quiet."

The man whispered, voice still bright with laughter, and grabbed Edgar and Edwin by the scruff of the neck to lift them up. The world lurched past.

When Edgar came to, he wasn't in the Archibald garden anymore. He was standing in the garden of the Bertholdt estate.

Edgar looked at the man in a daze. He couldn't quite work out how, but somehow the man had tucked Edwin and him under an arm and against a shoulder and climbed a tree. A tree with branches stretching toward the Bertholdt estate.

"Shh."

The man held a finger to his lips, then took Edgar's and Edwin's wrists again.

Edgar gave up on the idea of grabbing the man to let Edwin escape. Small frame or not, hauling two children up a tree with his legs and just one free hand took more than ordinary strength.

He might have come back to the past, but as long as he was just a small child, he had no chance of getting away in one piece.

"..."

Edgar bit down hard on his lower lip as he was pulled along.

None of this had happened before. He had no idea who this man was.

The conversation he'd been having right before the man caught them came back to him. Edwin had said Edgar had already changed the past.

He'd changed the past to save his uncle.

Edgar had never once thought about the ripples that might come from that.

Count Edgar Bertholdt, fifteen years in the future, had known how, where, and by whose hand his uncle had died, but had never been able to pin down why.

If he could just stop his uncle's death, he'd told himself, there'd be time enough afterward to dig into the strange chain of things that had happened after his father died.

If he'd known some suspicious man with a knife would kidnap him and Edwin, he'd have planned it more... more carefully. So that Edwin wouldn't end up in danger too, whatever might happen to Edgar alone.

The man headed for the Bertholdt estate.

Security should have been stepped up after he and Edwin had snuck in, but there wasn't a single watchman in sight.

"Looking for someone, little master?"

Edgar jerked at the sinister voice from above his head.

The man laughed unpleasantly.

"The watch? They probably realized the little masters were missing and ran next door."

"..."

"Making that face won't help. There's something the little master has to do for me, you see."

The man went for a back door instead of the main entrance. A small door that led to the kitchen.

Naturally it was locked. The man shrugged, and instead of struggling with the lock, elbowed a windowpane. He didn't seem bothered by the sound; he lifted Edgar and then Edwin in turn through the frame and into the manor.

At least he was careful enough to keep the broken glass along the frame from cutting them. Small comfort, if it counted as any.

But Edgar still couldn't guess why the man had gone to the trouble of breaking into the Bertholdt estate. Whatever he wanted, if he was bold enough to snatch them under everyone's noses, wouldn't it have been smarter to get as far away as possible?

...Was there a reason he had to be here?

The man climbed the stairs. He walked past every other room without so much as glancing at them.

"Your uncle got here sooner than we expected, little masters. Threw a wrench into everything."

"..."

"If he'd come just a week later, it'd have been perfect. The snow up north hasn't melted yet, they say — how did he ever make it down to the capital?"

Edgar and Edwin kept their mouths firmly shut, but the man rattled on, unconcerned.

"Is it true what they say, that your uncle isn't quite human, little master?"

"..."

"Human or not, doesn't matter. Then again, the one who isn't quite human is your father, not your uncle."

The man stepped into the corridor that led to the family quarters.

His stride was too easy — as though he'd walked this hall a dozen times. When the man made straight for their father's bedroom, suspicion turned into certainty.

This man was one of the crew who'd been in and out of the manor with Adrien Renard.

The man kicked the bedroom door open.

"...!"

Edgar's eyes went wide at the sight of the bedroom.

Their father had hated clutter. It had been long enough that Edgar could barely remember his face without looking at the portrait, but not everything had blurred into time.

After their mother went missing, they'd all slept together in this room. When Edgar couldn't sleep for the unease of it, his father had read fairy tales to him. He kept the things around him spotless — and yet when Edgar and Edwin covered the bedroom in paint horsing around, he'd only laughed.

Even when Edgar had inherited the count's title, he'd never brought himself to use his father's bedroom. He knew it was the room the count and countess would ordinarily use, but somehow it felt like defiling his memory of his father — a sentimental reason.

The bedroom he'd treasured that much, defiled already. It hadn't crossed his mind.

Yes. The bedroom was filthy. Food scraps and rubbish were strewn across the floor. Stains he'd rather not identify marked the walls and floor; boot prints too. The smell was foul.

"Little masters."

The man let go of Edgar's and Edwin's wrists and turned around.

Edgar reflexively pressed himself against Edwin. Edwin took his hand.

"Which of you can open the family safe?"

"..."

The family safe.

"Ah. This one is... your name? You two look so alike I can't tell you apart. Well, you know, don't you?"

Edgar realized his mistake.

He shouldn't have reacted to family safe. At the very least, he shouldn't have let it show.

Edwin stepped forward and pulled Edgar behind him. Whether he found the gesture pitiful or funny, the man didn't bother hiding his laugh.

The man spun the dagger in his palm.

"I'd love to do this the easy way."

"...The easy way?"

"Whichever of you knows how, opens the safe, and I don't have to bother with the tiresome way. Sounds nice, right?"

"And the tiresome way?"

"Pain is the mother of honesty, they say. That's the old saying."

The man closed his hand around the dagger.

Edgar tightened his grip on Edwin's hand. Watching his brother keep pushing him back, he suddenly grew afraid Edwin might lunge forward at the man himself.

"Oh, look at that glare. Cute."

The man laughed.

"I've heard the safes of noble houses can be complicated to open. But old houses like yours... apparently, they're surprisingly simple."

"..."

"Not many people who can even touch magic that old anymore... so it just gets left the way it is. Old. Which is a mercy, honestly."

Edgar couldn't understand what was supposed to be a mercy.

"Did your father teach you?"

The man crouched down with the knife still in his hand, meeting Edgar's eyes.

"How to open the family safe."

"..."

Edwin, apparently hating that the man was talking to Edgar, kept tugging him backward.

But Edgar preferred drawing the man's attention himself to letting him focus on Edwin. He ignored Edwin's tug.

"What. Decided not to answer? I told you, easy way is better."

Contrary to his words, the man took Edgar's arm and pushed up the sleeve.

"...! Let go of Edgar!"

The dagger's sharp edge crept toward Edgar's wrist.

Old magic.

Edgar realized what the man was after.

Fifteen years from now, the Edgar who succeeded his father as Count Bertholdt knew all about the family safe, of course. Not because his father had taught him, as the man had suggested. Albrecht had died before he could pass on any of the knowledge a count needed to his son.

But his uncle had lasted a little longer than Albrecht. Long enough, at least, to teach him about the family safe.

The magic left in the Bertholdt estate was old. Only the most primitive spells remained, keeping the family's secrets.

Blood doesn't lie.

With Bertholdt blood and Bertholdt will, the door would open.

"Might as well try one thing at a time. My friend said to start with the blood."

Before the man had finished speaking, Edwin threw himself at him. Edgar swung his free fist at the man's hand, trying to break the grip.

The man stood up. Edgar, arm still held, was lifted with him. Perhaps finding Edwin's clinging bothersome, the man threw Edgar against the wall.

"Edgar!"

His back hit hard and the air rushed out of him.

Seeing Edgar unable to right himself, Edwin tried to run to him — but this time it was Edwin who was caught.

The man smiled brightly, not even blinking.

"Twins. Convenient. If one won't do, there's a spare."

"Let go! Let go of him!! Edgar!"

"We'll go in order. Wait your turn."

Edgar forced himself up. His back hurt terribly; he must have hit it wrong.

But Edwin was over there.

The tip of the dagger turned toward Edwin. A bead of blood welled up.

"Ed —"

CRASH!!!!

The door was smashed off its hinges.