The Partisan Chronicles [Dystopia | Supernatural | Mystery]

Andrei

From legend to life, fiction to fact, the Vonsinfonie brothers were not only real, but they were both within our extended social circle—for better or for worse. And while they were once worldwide renowned composers and performing arts masters, they were at one time, too, ordinary men with families and friends, and in the case of Zacharias Vonsinfonie, a son.

"You must have led an exciting life," I said.

Jakob scoffed. "Yes, yes, one would think—can we go now?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Zacharias?" I asked. "We have questions for him."

Jakob sighed. "What questions?"

"Like what happened to Sebastian," Everleigh answered.

"Uncle Sebastian?"

I nodded.

"Uncle Sebastian's dead, Asa. He died. Centuries, and centuries, and centuries ago. There's nothing else to know. Can we go now?"

"Sebastian isn't dead," Everleigh said.

"Why are you saying that?" Jakob's voice dripped with suspicion.

"Sebastian was our—or as it turns out, he's our—no, I don't know what exactly he is to us, but he's alive and had been living in Delphia for a long time, Jakob."

Everleigh clicked her tongue. "I brought you here for one reason, Andrei. What the hell kind of smooth talking was that."

"Sorry," I said. "To think, just a few months ago, I was worried about how I'd flavour my oats."

"Well, you can't eat oats without flavour," the Strachan replied.

A lasting silence, and I adjusted my blindfold.

"Where is he?" Jakob eventually asked. "Uncle Sebastian?"

"He left to look for you," Ever answered. "But I don't feel him anymore. Either something bad has happened, or he's gone."

The air fanned around him as Jakob shook his head. "Uncle Sebastian wouldn't leave without saying hello."

"Jakob, have you been here over the past few days?" I asked.

"Not for a while."

"You didn't hear two Strachan?"

"No, never."

"And as far as you know, Zacharias hasn't seen Sebastian yet?"

"No, no."

The grinding of Ever's shoes against the stone floor. "What are you thinking, Broody Lad?"

"I'm thinking there's the distinct possibility Sebastian came looking for Zacharias or Jakob here. And if Rhian and Rhydian stopped by on their way to the coast, then they may have found each other and opted to bring Sebastian with them. This would explain his leaving."

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"Rhydian Sinclair?" Jakob asked.

"Yes," I said. "But he's promised not to kill or capture you. We're working together now, and we even have others like you living with us at the base. Everleigh here, and Alexander."

A thoughtful pause. "Does Uncle Sebastian know where your base is?"

"He's the one to have brought us there in the first place," I said.

"Then take me with you, Asa. I want to be with you and your friends."

I'd been in Zacharias Vonsinfonie's presence at least thrice, confirmed after learning he'd been the one to abduct Jakob in the forest. Sinclair, at least three times as well. Adeline, only once, but for the longest of us all while she slept in Feargus Finlay's cabin. The circumstances had always been different, but there had always been one thing in common: for each time we encountered the ancient composer, we were incapacitated, frozen, or in some other way unable to communicate. It had always just been him speaking through strange riddles and songs.

I wondered, "Won't Zacharias be worried if you're gone when he returns?"

"He'll find me again."

"Then he would also find our base. Should we be worried if he does?"

"Don't know," Jakob said. "But my father would find you, anyway, Asa."

I had burning questions for Zacharias, but the reason for our expedition to the theatre was primarily for Everleigh's sake. The dirgist seemed confident in my theory about Sebastian leaving with the Sinclairs, however, and with her worry subsided, she said it would be fine if we left. For the best, I believed. If Zacharias wanted to speak with us, or perhaps put us all to sleep and sing to us, it might be better if we were all together and in familiar territory.

Besides, I was pleased to find Jakob safe and to have him with me again. I was looking forward to introducing him to the others.

Back at the base, questions abounded. Everyone was aware of Jakob Adler, as far as what I'd told them about him, and that he was the self-proclaimed first Partisan. He'd been elusive with my questions so far, but what would he do against an unruly group of eight? That day, our guest of honour sat in the large, upholstered chair, with the rest of us crowded among the couches. The others seemed to be faring better than I had.

"How do you know you were the first?" Adeline asked.

"Because I was."

"Then if there are no gods, how were you made?"

"My mother and father fornicated. I daresay even more than once."

"I don't understand," I interrupted. "Was Zacharias an Anima at the time of your conception? I didn't think you could procreate."

"He wasn't, Asa."

"So, how then?" Finlay asked.

"Don't know. You'd have to ask my father."

Alexander was next. "What was it really like before the Divide?"

"Better," Jakob said. "But worse. Much worse."

"And if not by divine intervention, how did it happen?" I asked.

"Don't know."

Evelyn, as always, sounded earnest in her curiosity. "Where were you born, Jakob?"

"Amsteg."

Istok: the present day township formerly known as Amsteg, and the place where Alexander had tried making a life for himself after leaving Oskari.

"You grew up in a small fishing town?" Alexander asked.

"No, no. In an opulent hamlet, near a big, bright city in the mountains."

"Near Leberecht?" Michael wondered.

"Yes, near Leberecht. Amsteg was where the wealthiest ones lived."

"Being the son of Zacharias Vonsinfonie must have made for an interesting childhood. What about your mother, dear?" Evelyn asked. "What was she like?"

"Unwell."

A long stretch of silence save for a whiny yawn from Teeth who'd been asleep at my feet.

"I promised I'd tell Asa everything," Jakob said. "But I lied. I don't know everything. I—I actually don't know much of anything."

I'd long since come to terms with the fact Jakob had lied about what he knew to secure his freedom, one way or another. "That's fine, Jakob. But would you be willing to share your story with us? Unless you prefer the highly disorganized question and answer method we've developed. Then by all means."

Once more, silence brewed between us until the collective tension was at a peak high.

"Fine, fine," Jakob said. "Have your stupid story, Asa. By now, I'd say you've earned it."