CHAPTER 32The Artist's Confession
Jett led her to a small antechamber off the main hall. He looked terrible—pale, with dark circles under his eyes.
"My father knows," he said without preamble. "About The Archivist contacting me."
Luna's breath caught. "They contacted you?"
"Two weeks ago. They sent me a package. Old photographs. Of the Lǐng family. Children playing in a garden that doesn't exist anymore." He ran a hand through his hair. "They asked me to create a sculpture. A memorial. I said no."
"Why?"
"Because art should create, not destroy." He met her eyes. "But then they threatened to expose my father's forgeries. The ones he's been passing off as originals to the European galleries."
"So you're being blackmailed too."
"Not just me." He lowered his voice. "They've contacted someone in every family. Your brother with the files. Me with the art. Rook Yèshòu with... something else. And someone in the Wǎngshā circle."
"Who?"
"I don't know. But The Archivist isn't working alone. They have help. From inside."
The door opened. Leo stood there, his expression grim. "We need to go. Now."
As they followed him through the corridors, Luna's mind raced. Someone in the Wǎngshā circle. Who? Sylas? Zara? Ming? The possibility was a cold knife in her gut.
They gathered in the strategy room—Fen, Tao, Ming, Sylas, Zara, Leo, and Luna.
"What happened?" Fen demanded.
Leo explained Jett's confession. As he spoke, Luna watched the family's reactions. Sylas looked thoughtful. Zara angry. Ming unreadable. Fen... calculating.
"So we have a traitor," Fen said softly. "In this room."
"No," Luna said. Everyone turned to her. "Not a traitor. A collaborator. Someone who believes in The Archivist's cause."
"Same difference," Zara snapped.
"Not necessarily." Luna looked at each of them. "What if they're right? What if we should atone?"
The room erupted.
"Don't be sentimental—"
"This is about survival—"
"We don't apologize—"
"ENOUGH." Tao's voice, rarely heard, silenced them all. He stood slowly, leaning on his cane. "The girl asks a fair question. Are we preserving a legacy worth keeping?" He looked at Fen. "You and I... we built this empire on bones. Our children inherited the blood money. Their children..." He looked at Leo and Luna. "Perhaps they should inherit something cleaner."
Fen's face was stone. "Clean empires don't exist."
"But honorable ones might," Luna said quietly.
Fen studied her for a long moment. Then she nodded, once. "Find the collaborator. Then we decide."