by T. A. White
“I won’t force you though,” Tate said, seeing Roslyn’s hesitance.
It would be nice having a powerful ally, but it wasn’t crucial. If Roslyn chose not to accept the gift, Tate wouldn’t think less of the woman.
“I’ll do it.” Roslyn’s nod was firm. There was no longer any sign of doubt. Roslyn gave every appearance of someone who was resolved in their course.
It seemed Tate had worried for her friend for nothing. Roslyn wasn’t the same woman she’d first met. The one who hid her wounds so deep no one could see and who held herself apart from everyone else.
She’d walked through the fire and come out the other side. No matter what happened in the future, she’d handle it with the same grace and confidence she had everything else.
“My family wasn’t given the key to unlock the sphere. There are no records regarding it beyond the instruction to pass it on when the time came,” the duke said.
It was probably one of the reasons why the pandora’s box hadn’t received an owner in all this time. Jax would have known his descendants might one day grow greedy. Not every person in a family was above reproach. Loyalty and obedience faded. In addition, he couldn’t predict if there might one day be an event where his descendants’ hands would be forced.
It was the sort of meticulous planning Jax was known for.
“That’s okay. I already have an idea of what’s needed.” Tate shifted the sphere to one arm, reaching into her jacket pocket for the cube that contained Jax’s last message.
She now knew why he’d left it for her. It wasn’t only to inform her about his unfinished business. It was for this reason too.
She held her hands in front of her, one containing the sphere, the other the cube.
Here goes nothing, she thought.
Tate closed her eyes and concentrated. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tried to inject some of her essence into both and failed.
Frustration mounted.
Ilith crowded Tate’s consciousness. You always forget to ask for my help.
Before Tate could question her, Ilith shared her mind, flooding their body with strength.
Tate could almost see the invisible lines of power as they circulated through her veins. Ilith guided her to inject that same power into both objects, being careful not to flood the lines. Slow and steady was better than speed here.
Tate’s hands shook as pressure settled on her. Still nothing happened.
Finally, when Tate thought she couldn’t take it anymore, two tiny silver filaments leaked from her skin. They waved in the air before touching the sphere and the cube at the same time.
Ripples spread along the outside of both as if a pebble had landed in a pond.
Resonance, Ilith whispered, sounding awed.
Tate started to ask what she meant but found her words locked in her throat. Her mind expanded. Infinite possibilities lay before her. As many as there were stars in the sky.
Despite her words earlier, she knew she could take the treasure for herself and not suffer any issues to her body. It would be enough to rule the world. No one would be able to oppose her and if she ever decided to resurrect the Aurelia to voyage the stars once again, she could.
Apportens Mortis. That’s what Jax had called her. His greatest creation. She understood why now.
Before, she’d only been half of a whole. The pandora’s box and the secrets kept within were the second half.
Without them she’d never be complete.
Wind stirred the air around her, whipping her hair into her face as paper fluttered. There were cries from those around her as a force pressed down on them, increasing with every second Tate remained motionless.
With a long sigh, Tate exhaled. Ilith didn’t fight her as she pushed away the possibility.
She’d never wanted to rule. The idea of traveling the stars again was tempting, but everything she needed was already on this planet.
Sensing her decision, Ilith withdrew mentally. I chose my Savior wisely.
Tate’s lips quirked. As she remembered it, there hadn’t been much deciding on Ilith’s end so much as a fortuitous set of circumstances.
Gold light tinged with sapphire and violet and emerald erupted. Gasps came from the others as they stared at the space in front of Tate where several images formed.
Three men and one woman looked at Tate with love in their eyes. Wearing a uniform Tate recognized, their hair was grayer than she remembered, and their faces filled with lines.
Suze reached out first, her transparent hands hovering over Tate’s jaw as she leaned forward. “Big sister, the box was created to release our message in the event you chose to pass our gift to another. We trust your decision just as we’ve always trusted your leadership.”
Suze stepped back, letting Trace sling an arm around her shoulders. From their postures it was easy to tell they were a couple.
Tate almost laughed at the sight. She never would have guessed they’d develop a relationship like that. When she knew them, not a day would go by when they didn’t end up in some type of argument.
Kenneth’s somber gaze met hers. “Time has separated us permanently, but we remember and honor your memory.”
Trace spoke next. “Our wrongs cannot be righted but we know you are in a better place because of them. Jax believes this is the best course and will solve your mental instability while ensuring a better future for our descendants. Live well, Sergeant, in the world we created. Until we meet again.”
Tate’s gaze caressed the features of each person. Jax, she saved for last.
“I will. I promise you,” she said in Ancient.
She clenched her fist, flexing her will as she urged the power toward Roslyn. It streamed in her friend’s direction. Tate’s forehead furrowed a split second later.
Too much. This relic wasn’t meant for one person.
Tate’s smile was wicked. “As twisted as ever, I see.”
If she had tried to keep this for herself, her ending likely wouldn’t have been pleasant. It was their way of ensuring Tate was the person they remembered.
She broke up the relic’s power, redirecting a portion to Night and Vale. For a second, she contemplated fixing a blessing on Keel before discarding the idea.
The last of the light poured out of her, streaming toward the bodies of those she’d picked. As abruptly as it started, the process shut off, the remaining motes of light absorbing into Tate’s skin.
Tate turned her hands over, carefully examining herself. The world felt sharper. Clearer than before.
We got stronger, Ilith said happily.
Tate looked up to check on the others. Vale held his hands up with a wondering expression, looking very much like he’d just had a spiritual experience.
There was a repressed excitement on Roslyn’s features as she touched the center of her chest. Night was the only one who looked like he’d experienced something traumatic.
“Are you okay?” Tate asked him.
Next time a warning would be appreciated.
Tate pursed her lips and nodded without arguing. There wasn’t going to be a next time.
“Where is the relic? I don’t see it.” The duke scanned Roslyn from head to toe, his expression growing darker.
“It’s not like the relics you’re used to,” Tate explained. “The pandora’s box is founded on potential. Each recipient receives a unique gift tailored to their individual skills and personalities. There’s not always a physical manifestation. Sometimes it’s a little more nebulous. Even I don’t know what they received from the sphere.”
Though she had a pretty good guess for some of them.
“But you’re sure she has a relic,” the duke verified.
Tate’s nod was forestalled as she took in the sight of the destruction surrounding her. Books lay open and face down on the ground. Paintings hung crooked on the wall; others having fallen entirely. Shattered glass littered the floor and relics were strewn amid the shards.
“This—”
Tate eyed the damage with a feeling of horror.
What the hell happened?
Night’s chuckle filled her mind. You’re in so much trouble. Didn’t the duke tell you he wanted his items back in the same condition he lent them to you?
Vale’s mouth was slightly open as he took in the scene, his dismay even more pronounced than Tate’s. Beside him, the duke’s face was expressionless as Keel pressed a hand to his chest looking on the verge of a heart attack.
Tate pointed at the wall. “I’m just going to go.”
She fled before anyone could stop her, Night racing on her heels.
NINETEEN
Tate and Night didn’t go far before they stopped, not wanting to chance getting lost. The inner temple was a warren of hallways that twisted back on themselves, many resulting in dead ends. Tate had every confidence she’d be able to find her way out eventually, but she’d prefer not to waste half a day in the endeavor.
The duke and Roslyn stepped out of the wall behind them, Vale hurrying in their wake. Spotting Tate immediately, the duke strode toward her with a set look on his face.
Tate gulped. It wasn’t lost on her how much of a faux pas she’d committed. By rights, the duke could demand her arrest and she was pretty sure the emperor would consider it.
The documents and relics contained within the secret room were some of the most precious treasures in Aurelia. Keepsakes carefully passed down from one generation to the next over hundreds of years.
Yet a few minutes in Tate’s company exposed them to more damage than in all the years preceding. If she’d known it was going to be like this, she never would have asked to see the documents in the first place.
In retrospect, it would have been better to complete the melding far from anything breakable or valuable. Had she known how violent the awakening would be to her surroundings, she would have done just that.
She met the duke’s gaze, careful to hide any sign of guilt. This man was every bit the predator Night and Ilith were; just in a different way. His stalking grounds may have been some of the most opulent halls of Aurelia, but that didn’t lessen the danger he posed. At the smallest sign of weakness, he’d move in for the kill.
The duke considered Tate with an assessing gaze. After a long moment of contemplation that made Tate’s hands clammy, he spoke, “You’ll teach my daughter how to control this new talent you’ve given her.”
Tate blinked, momentarily off balance. “Will I now?”
The duke was already walking away, her answer a forgone conclusion. “Consider it recompense for the damage you caused to my collection.”
Tate’s mouth snapped shut. When he put it like that, it was hard to argue—even if she really wanted to. For appearances if nothing else.
Roslyn’s glance was sympathetic. Her expression quickly changed to one of rebelliousness at the duke’s sharp, “Roslyn.”
She didn’t move from Tate’s side, even when the duke stopped and shot her a look over his shoulder in silent demand. Roslyn lifted her chin with an imperious set to her features.
The father/daughter duo embarked on a staring contest. Both too stubborn to give in to the other. Tate felt a headache coming on. You’d think after their recent reconciliation they would have learned their lesson by now.
Obviously not.
Tate touched Roslyn’s elbow. “We’ll follow behind.”
Roslyn’s face showed surprise and a trace of suspicion, as if asking if Tate had suddenly been possessed by a ghost.
Tate rolled her eyes. Yes, yes, they all knew how stubborn Tate could be. She met force with force. Insult her and she’d see the same done to you. That didn’t mean she was right. There was a reason her circle was so small. Her prickly personality made it difficult to keep and maintain relationships. It always had, even in the before times.
Yet, even she made allowances for those she considered family. Dewdrop. Night. Ryu. Even Roslyn. Every one of them could get away with things others couldn’t. It was one of the reasons she placed such importance on them.
They dealt with her bad moods, giving her grace in her ugly moments and she did the same for them. If you couldn’t even do that much for the people you loved, what was the point?
Tate couldn’t see the duke suddenly changing his behavior. He was an autocrat, used to being in charge and ordering others around. Roslyn would have to make peace with that if she wanted a relationship with her father.
Tate thought the duke might be in for a bit of a surprise though. Roslyn was no longer the obedient child who’d put up with all manner of insults.
If he didn’t mend his ways, he ran the danger of losing her for a second time.
He seemed to realize it too, his lips flattening into a thin line. “Please.”
The words were bit off through gritted teeth, the effort seeming to have exhausted his small patience. As if that was all she’d been waiting for, Roslyn’s expression gentled. Her figure was graceful as she moved toward her father.
The duke’s gaze darted from his daughter to Tate before he twisted on his heel and stalked off.
That man is in for a rude awakening when he finds out his soft daughter has turned into a wolf. Night’s side brushed against Tate’s legs.
“I got the impression that was what he wanted.”
Reality often differs from our dreams.
Tate was rather looking forward to the duke’s reaction when he realized he’d gotten exactly what he’d wished for—just not in the way he thought. This version of Roslyn was going to be a lot harder to control and intimidate than the last. Tate hoped his family was ready for her.
Think he realizes you were planning to help her harness her relic even before he asked?
Tate allowed herself a tiny, smug smile as the two shared a conspiring look. If the duke was willing to let Tate off the hook for such a small price, who was she to argue?
Tate’s smile faded as she considered Vale and Night seriously. “I feel I owe you both an apology. I didn’t consult with you before doing what I did.”
Her actions were uncomfortably close to something an Ijiri would have done. They never once considered whether those they experimented on wanted the tampering, simply assuming their victims should be grateful.
If Night or Vale chose to view her actions as an unforgivable trespass, she didn’t know what she’d do. The type of relic she’d gifted them with couldn’t be taken back, except in death.
Vale answered first, bowing before her. “Please don’t say that. For someone like me, who has no family background and who never thought I’d get such a chance, this is an incomparable honor. The fact it came from one of my heroes makes it even better.”
Tate winced at that. “I’m not a hero.”
That title belonged to the other Saviors.
Vale lifted his head. “I have to disagree. You may not have been mentioned in name in the records kept by the other Saviors, but your influence could be felt. They never forgot you. I believe they kept your identity secret to protect you. That tells me everything I need to know about the person you are and the role you played.”
Tate’s solemn gaze landed on Night. If he didn’t forgive her, if he chose to break off his relationship with her, she didn’t know what she’d do.
Several seconds passed, Tate’s anxiety growing as she held her breath. After what felt like an eternity, his tail flicked. There’s nothing to forgive. You did what was necessary. I am not such a person that I would blame you for that.
Tate released a shaky breath, almost light-headed with gratitude.
I only wish the idiot boy could have been here. He needs this more than I do—especially in light of what happened today.
Tate couldn’t disagree. Even if the pandora’s box didn’t bestow a relic on Night or Vale, their bodies would have been nourished by the particles, making them stronger over all.
“Do either of you feel any different?” It was a question Tate should have asked Roslyn as well. She’d have to fix that oversig
ht later when she had a moment again.
Vale frowned and touched the center of his chest. “A warmth. Right here. I’m not sure what it means, though.”
“Let me see it.”
The tips of Vale’s ears turned pink as he shrunk away from Tate, his arms coming up to protectively hover over his chest as if he feared what she’d do if he didn’t obey.
Tate sent him a frown as she struggled with irritation. She rolled up her sleeve and showed him her forearm with the geometric tattoo that represented her relic. “Not all artifacts appear as items. The most powerful of them become embedded in your body. Knowing its shape can help you figure out its purpose.”
Although she said that, those who could decipher the odd patterns the relics sometimes took were all long dead, and her memories weren’t exactly what anyone would consider reliable. Often, she only knew something when another item triggered the memory, as was the case with the pandora’s box.
At her reassurance, Vale’s shoulders relaxed. Moving slowly, he parted his robes, the tips of his ears growing redder as he unveiled a surprisingly well-developed chest. The defined muscles showed how much work he put into maintaining his body. They weren’t the sort developed by bending over a desk reading books all day.
Tate ignored his discomfort as she leaned closer, studying the slowly forming tattoo. Each second saw the color deepen as more details were added. It was like watching a watercolor painting take shape. A generalized impression transforming into an intricately layered image.
By the time it was mostly done, the tattoo was pure black with metallic flecks of red veins shimmering throughout. Three lines spiraled around each other, dots trailing off the edges until it took up a good bit of his chest.
Night balanced on his back legs as he joined Tate in studying the tattoo. Do I get one of those too?
“I don’t know. Maybe we should shave you to find out.”
Night’s whiskers tilted forward as he gave her a look that said he wasn’t amused. Tate coughed to hide her laugh, dawning a serious expression seconds later.
“Do you notice any places on your body that feel different?”