by Erin Johnson
Horace moved away from me and stood beside Leo in his green flannel and a woman with long black hair. I waved at Leo, and he lifted a hand and wiggled his fingers at me. Horace faced me, his back to the rest of his army. He spread his arms out wide. I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a better look at him in the dappled shadows under the trees. I couldn't tell if it was the light, or if he'd suddenly gone quite pale.
"A few days ago, Leo showed you my army—my thousands of followers."
Leo inclined his head.
I gulped. Those thousands of followers stood stock-still and stared at me. Goose bumps prickled my arms, and the force of magic radiating from them filled the air, nearly choking me.
Horace's eyes grew glassy and a vein in his forehead bulged. He scoffed—all his levity gone. His lip curled back in a cruel grin. "I wanted you to be impressed by me—proud of your brother, of all that I'd done, of all the vicious wrongs I'd righted with equally vicious justice."
I let out a trembling breath. "Horace." My voice came out small under the pressure of all those eyes on me—the pressure of all that magic. Like a hot sun, it felt oppressive almost, the force of the magic coming off these people. "Horace, I am proud of you."
"No." He shook his head, eyes narrowed. His hands, still held out wide from his sides, trembled. "You're impressed because of a lie. I've realized it was shallow and needy of me to care what you thought. Emotions that are beneath me. So I'm here to show you the real Badlands Army."
My heart raced in my chest. The force of the magic seemed to throb in my ears, so that I wasn't sure if it was my own heartbeat I felt or theirs. My legs trembled below me. What could Horace be about to show me?
I waited. People in the back began to leave—the crowd thinning. I squinted, trying to peer into the shadows amongst the cedars, behind the tall ferns. Were they leaving or… disappearing? My breath caught in my throat as Leo suddenly vanished. One moment he was there, the next gone.
"Horace. What are you doing to them? Where's Leo?" Was he killing them right in front of me? Were they killing themselves? Were they even really there?
Dark shadows ringed Horace's deep-set eyes, and a sheen of sweat covered his pale face. One by one, the rest of the army vanished, until only my brother stood before me. Two cool tears trickled down my cheeks. I swallowed against the tightness in my throat, overwhelmed by what I'd just seen. "What's happening?" I gulped. "Horace, what is this?"
"The truth." He let his arms fall to his sides, then collapsed.
"Horace!" I ran to him and knelt beside him. I brushed his dark hair back from his clammy face. He blinked back up at me and smirked, though his eyes held no mirth… but no malice either. He looked surprisingly… vulnerable.
"The illusion—it takes it out of me."
"The illusion?"
I put an arm around my brother’s shoulders and helped him as he pushed himself to a siting position. He dusted a few leaves off his shoulders, and already some color had returned to his cheeks. He nodded. "The army. They were only an illusion."
I looked to the left, where those thousands of individuals had just stood. Now there was nothing but butterflies fluttering through beams of light between the trees. The hairs rose on the back of my neck. "You did that?" I shook my head. "That's—impossible."
He shook his head. "How many times do I have to tell you? As a swallow, your powers are beyond anything you imagine. You too could do this."
I shook my head. "No. I couldn't. And I don't know how you possibly could."
"Just as we can wear masks and appear to be others in a more convincing way than other witches and wizards, we swallows can multiply ourselves as well."
My jaw dropped. "But that wasn't just multiplying." I swept an arm toward where his army had stood.
"Exactly." He blinked slowly. "It was multiplying and putting masks on my doubles. Admittedly, it's extremely draining and takes great focus, but with practice, it is absolutely doable."
I shook my head, trying to take it all in. "But that—that was thousands of people you just created."
"Yes, and I collapsed from the effort of it." He shrugged. "I said it was doable—not that it was easy."
I didn't know what to say. My brother was so immensely powerful, I didn't even know how to comprehend it. I didn't think a person was capable of such things. Finally, I managed to mutter, "You're incredible. That was incredible."
He sniffed. "As I said, it was foolish of me to want you to be impressed." He glanced up at me with those pale, clear blue eyes. "But I'm glad you are."
I frowned. "But why do all that? Where's the real army?"
"Imogen." He looked almost bored. "There isn't an army."
51
The Whole Truth
I froze. "What do you mean, there isn't an army?" I knelt there on the soft, dark earth, staring at my cunning brother. "You're the leader of the Badlands Army!"
"No." He shook his head. "I am the army. Me, and only me."
I felt like I was falling. My stomach dropped and I put a palm to the earth. The moist ground was somehow reassuring—like my body, the forest—we were still here, though other key facts, pillars of my world, seemed to be crumbling. I shook my head. "No. The attacks, the signs in the sky, Nate and Pritney, the camp in the forest—"
"All me. Well, not Nate and Pritney." Horace tipped his head to the side. "I suppose they were the closest to an army I ever had. Nate was the only friend I had growing up, if you could call us that." He met my eyes. "We grew up together. The marauding gang that raided our village and took me as a child soldier captured Nate also. We came to trust each other—kept each other alive more times than I can count."
I let out a shallow breath. "And Pritney?"
"Her father was the minor lord who bought me from the army when he saw what I could do. When Hank's father had me thrown in Carclaustra, Pritney, the lord's daughter, convinced her father to get me out." He smirked. "I think she fancied herself in love with me."
"Yeah." I nodded. "She was in love with you. She killed for you." She'd murdered Nan and Glen during the competition to become head baker so she could poison Hank and the royal family. All for Horace and the Badlands Army. Which, apparently, didn't even exist.
He shook his head. "She thought she was, but she always had a thing for Nate. And he for her." He shrugged. "But yes, they were loyal. Though they made a total debacle of the one and only job I gave them." He rolled his eyes. "That's why I figured, if it was convenient, we'd rescue them from Carclaustra while I was there getting Gunter Braun out."
I frowned, though a smile played at the corners of my mouth. There was something almost comical about cold, calculating Horace being such a keen observer of the romance between Nate and Pritney. Now that he said it—I could see it between the two of them.
And though he put on this cavalier front, it had been no easy feat rescuing them at all. And while yes, he wanted to rescue the scientist, I suspected he'd already collected more than enough evidence to indict King Roch. I couldn't hold back my smile. "You care about them."
He gave me that cold, half-lidded stare. "I care about myself."
I laughed. "You tell yourself that."
He glared at me. But somehow it didn't scare me anymore. There was something about Horace that had always seemed untouchable, but suddenly he was seeming so… human.
"Where are Nate and Pritney now?"
He sniffed. "I have no idea."
I grinned and shook my head. They had tried to kill me, and while I didn't think I could ever really wish them well… I found myself not necessarily wanting them to be caught and arrested, either. What a weird day this was turning out to be. I looked at my brother closely. He kept his eyes down on the smooth, gray stone he was rubbing between his fingers.
"So… there was Nate and Pritney but… no one else?"
He looked up and met my eyes, chin high. "No."
I licked my lips and searched his face. "No one? No one to talk to, or laugh with, or… plot a
cts of vengeance with?"
His eyes narrowed. "No."
"You've been alone? On this island, all these years? Making mirrors and going round the kingdoms speaking with survivors of King Roch's atrocities and gathering evidence against him… all alone?"
He shoved to his feet and walked a few paces away. "I don't want your pity."
My jaw dropped. I jumped to my feet and stalked over to him, positioning myself in front of him so he had to look at me. I glared up at him. "Well, I don't care. You have it. You're my brother and you've suffered in unimaginable ways, and whether you like it or not, I—I love you. And I care that you've gone through that. It makes me sad that you've been so… so lonely."
He didn't say anything. He looked at me with those hard eyes, then lifted his chin to stare over the top of my head.
I gulped, my throat tight. Tears trickled down my cheeks. "But I also admire you. You're so powerful—you're like a superhero! And you're my brother. Whether you care or not, I am proud of you. You've been through horrible things, alone, and come out of them stronger. You found me—and as many times as you've thrown me in harm's way, you've also saved and protected me and shown me the truth. You showed everyone the truth. There are so many people out there who never would have had a voice, never had a chance to see justice done for King Roch's crimes against them if it weren't for you."
He was looking at me now, his eyes glassy, full lips pressed tight together.
"You are a remarkable person, Horace." I grinned through my tears. "You single-handedly changed the kingdoms forever."
His throat bobbed and his eyes shone as he looked down at me. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth and he said softly, "I had a little help. With breaking into prison and such."
I pressed my lips together until I burst out laughing. "That's why you used us? Because you didn't have an army to do it?"
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black pants and hiked up his shoulders. "Well, I wouldn't have used a team of bakers to break into Carclaustra if I could have helped it." He grinned. "Besides, I thought it might be a fun sibling bonding activity."
I shook my head. What could I say to that? I laughed, though tears still poured down my cheeks. I thought back to all our conversations about the army, the ones that had shaped my impression of it. "You once told me your army was a bunch of yes-men."
He smirked.
"You were joking. They were yes-men because they were all you?"
He chuckled. "When you're a one-man show, all your inside jokes are with yourself."
I shook my head and laughed through a sob. "You're so weird."
He chuckled. Then cleared his throat and looked at me, thoughtful. "Imogen?"
I nodded.
"I'm not sure I know what love is. But. I think I love you, too."
I lurched forward and threw my arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. "I don't care if you hate this," I mumbled, wetting his shirt with my tears. "I'm hugging you anyway."
He held very still, and quietly, so quietly I almost didn't hear him, he murmured, "I don't hate this."
52
A Favor
Horace and I took our time walking back to Hank and my friends. I didn't want to keep them waiting or make them worry, but I was relishing every moment with Horace. I'd never talked so openly with my brother before.
"So, why'd you make the army up?" I kicked a rock as I took a step.
He looked up and took a deep breath. The air up here was cooler than down at the beach and smelled of herbal, aromatic cedar trees. "It was my life’s mission to see that the king"—he spat the word—"saw justice. I made up the army, spread rumors, gave people glimpses of it when necessary, to spread fear. On the island here, I wanted to be left alone, and the show of force ensured that. But in the kingdoms, I wanted Roch and the other liars to know I was coming for them. And not just me—an entire mysterious, powerful army.”
I nodded. It made sense. I glanced up at him. "And has he? Has King Roch been arrested or tried?" I gulped. "We're kind of desperate to know what's going on back in Bijou Mer."
He shrugged. "I wasn't lying when I spoke to you as Leo. I broke the last mirror. I haven't been back to Bijou Mer since we all fled the castle. I have no idea what's going on, either."
I gaped and stepped over a fallen log. The spaces between the trees were getting bigger as we neared the road. "Isn't that killing you? I mean, you spent your whole life fighting for this—why leave now? At the very end?"
Birds twittered in the branches far above our heads.
Horace shot me a heavy look. "Like I said before, as Leo, haven't I done enough?"
I lifted my brows. "You've uh, yeah, you've done a lot." Visions of Tar the dragon monster set loose on Calloon flitted through my head. "A little too much, in some cases," I mumbled. Then louder, added, "Don't you care what happens?"
"Imogen, if I were to do what I'd prefer to do and roast King Roch alive on a spit in front of his kingdom..."
I glanced up. The gleam in his eyes made me shudder.
"What would that accomplish? Sure, it'd be satisfying. But then what? Would I become king?" He shook his head. "I don't think law and order suits me."
I had to agree there.
"Then who would rule?" He laced his hands behind his back.
"Uh… Hank's older brother?"
"Who's just watched his father murdered alive in front of him based on the claims of someone he believes is a terrorist. Meanwhile, all his father's cronies are still deeply embedded in the government, and then what? They escape justice, influence the inexperienced new ruler, and the whole cycle repeats itself." He scoffed. "I can only do so much for the kingdoms. I have handed the reins over to the people. They will either see that justice is done, no matter the costs, and set themselves free, or…."
I swallowed. "Or?"
"Or they'll allow a tyrant to smother the voices shouting the truth, the journalists, the officers with a shred of decency, the people who've been wronged, and they will sink into oppression."
I curled my lip. "Sounds great." I shook my head at him. "And you're okay—to just wait and see what happens?"
"Like I said. I've done enough. The world knows the truth— that, truly, has been my life's mission." He looked down at me and slowly blinked. "And now we shall see if the world cares about the truth."
I let out a deep breath. "We still have friends in the kingdoms. Good people. I wish we were there to help them fight to make this right."
"Imogen."
I looked up at him.
"I wasn't joking when I said I had help." He lifted a brow. "You and your friends broke Gunter Braun out of prison. You searched out the truth, you stood up to the king. And even him banishing you—your suffering might just be what motivates your friends to see justice done. You've already done much."
Hm. That was something to think about.
Horace cleared his throat and spoke again in his low, drawling voice. "You have a lot to learn. But one thing you've taught me is that having people in your life, people you trust and who stand by you—that's a strength too."
I glanced up at him, my brows lifted.
He grinned slightly. "Not to get all sappy on you."
I chuckled and thought his words over as the road came into sight. I spotted Hank and my friends waiting by the cart and horses. We had made many friends. Wool and K'ree and Elke and princess—Queen Shaday in the Fire Kingdom. And there was Junie, my sort of adopted grandma, and Pandora and Beau Primpington in the Earth Kingdom. We'd been guests of honor at Queen Winnie and the Pirate King Charles Walker's wedding. And even though Urs Volker was unlikely to count me as a friend, he seemed like a man who cared about principles—he'd hopefully be grateful that we'd shed light on what was happening at his prison under his nose, with King Roch illegally sending political dissidents there. Maybe my brother was right. Maybe King Roch banishing us would spur those friends to come to our aid and stand up to him.
"So… we'r
e just going to spend the rest of our lives on this island while the people in the kingdoms sort this mess out?"
"Think of it like a well-deserved vacation." He smirked. "Either law and order will fall completely to tyranny, and then you'll be glad to be here, away from it all"—my stomach twisted. I wasn't so sure about that, not when I knew so many good people had been left behind—"or your friends will prevail. In which case, I'm sure someone will be bound to come looking for you."
I frowned. "And I guess in the meantime, since we don't have any idea how long that might take and there's no way off this monster-surrounded island, we'd better just get on with our lives."
Horace nodded.
I lifted a brow. "You said you'd basically accomplished your life's goal." I shrugged. "What now?"
"I haven't the foggiest."
I laughed. "Really?"
He shook his head, grinning. "Maybe I'll take this time to find myself."
I rolled my eyes. We'd nearly reached the edge of the trees. I put a hand on his arm, stopping him, then turned to face him. "I've always wanted a family, a real family, and—" I grinned. "—with Hank and my friends and you, I feel like I have that now. While you're finding yourself, I would love it if you would come visit sometimes—or a lot."
His full lips quirked to the side and he looked down his upturned nose at me. "I think I could manage that."
I beamed and opened my arms wide.
He held up a finger, stopping me. "But no more hugs today."
I let my arms drop. "Ah, fine."
Grinning, I stepped out of the tree line, though Horace stayed just inside the shadows of the forest. My friends milled about, petting the horses, eating snacks on tree stumps, chatting and stretching.
"Imogen!" Maple smiled and jogged up to me. "You've been gone awhile—everything okay?"
Hank strode up to me and wrapped me in a hug. He smelled like pine and cedar trees—so good.