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Seeker

Page 20

by Veronica Rossi


  “He’s not the only one,” Gideon says.

  “You’re right. I am, too. I’m not afraid to take a stand anymore, Gideon. I know what’s right and what’s wrong. I’m not leaving him. So you can just give up trying to convince me.”

  The anger coming off Gideon is palpable. Even Riot feels it where he stands with the other horses. The flames of his coat burn higher. His eyes are like embers in the night.

  CHAPTER 26

  GIDEON

  “What happened back there? You got any explanations for me, Big Red? I could use a sound voice of reason right now.”

  Riot listens as he walks beside me. I had to leave the campfire. I was afraid I’d start chucking burning logs into the trees. So Riot and I are on a horseman/horse break.

  I’m worried, Gideon. I’m worried and I would like to leave this place.

  “Me too, horse. I’m really worried. And I really would like to leave this place.”

  I stop and look through the woods. I can’t see the fire, just the dark shapes of the four people around it. And I can’t hear their voices clearly, but it surprises me when I hear them laughing.

  It offends me, actually.

  How are they having fun? How are they forgetting that Samrael is a demon? That he mind-tortured me and maimed me? Why is letting him out of here even up for discussion?

  “You get ten spots if you want, Bas! Here, you write them.”

  Daryn’s voice rises loud enough for me to hear her. It sounds like they’re indoctrinating Sebastian into “Reasons.”

  I want one good reason to stay here that’s not totally insane. I mean—Samrael. We’re exposing ourselves to this interactive psychosis sphere because of him?

  Riot makes a soft sound, bobbing his head.

  You should go back there, Gideon. I know you want to. I want to go, too.

  “Doesn’t matter, Riot. If I hear his name—Samrael—or wait, Rael—one more time, I’ll go supernova. I will lose my shit.”

  Well, that’s not good. Okay. Let’s stay.

  The hours roll by. I sit against a tree and come up with no solutions as it grows quiet around the fire. I’ve just settled into a zone where I’m half asleep when I see Daryn walking toward me.

  She sits right beside me. “Hey, Riot.”

  I have to smile. It’s awesome that she thinks of him first. He thinks so, too.

  “How are you doing?” she asks, bumping me with her elbow.

  “Really great. You?”

  “Not great at all.”

  She rests her head on my shoulder and loops her arm through mine. Just having her near makes me feel better. I don’t want to spoil the moment by bringing Samrael up, but I can’t stop myself. “I’ve decided to knock Bas out and carry him out of here unconscious. Good plan, don’t you think?”

  “Not if you want to keep your friendship with him. I don’t think he’d forgive you for doing that. He’s pretty set, Gideon.”

  “I’m pretty set, too.”

  “I know.”

  I push out a breath, trying to loosen the knot in my chest. “So what’s next, Martin? Where do we go from here?”

  “Bas wants to take us all back to where they’ve been staying. It’s a fortified settlement he calls Gray Fort.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “He thinks if we talk to Samrael and listen to what he has to say, we’ll see.”

  “Where to aim our arrows and blades?”

  “Gideon, what Bas is saying matches up to what Samrael said to me the first time I saw him. He wanted to take me to Bas. He offered protection. Safety. I didn’t believe him at the time. But if I had, maybe this could have all been avoided. Maybe Low wouldn’t have died, and we wouldn’t—”

  “No. You did the right thing.”

  She raises her head. “How can you be sure? What if Bas is right and Samrael has changed?”

  “It sounds like you’re trying to defend the guy who cut off my hand.”

  “No. I’m not. But I want to go home. I want to bring Bas home. I want us all to get out of here. I want to do the right thing, even if it’s really hard, and I don’t see any alternative here. People make mistakes. They deserve second chances. If I didn’t believe that, then I would never have the courage to go back home. I need to believe my parents and my sister will forgive me for leaving them. Haven’t you ever wanted to change something you did or said? Make up for it?”

  All the damn time, I think. She’s got me. I excel at losing my temper and doing or saying something I have to try to patch up later. War is not who I am, it’s my vice. It’s what I deal with daily. “All right. People deserve second chances. But do demons?”

  “Demons were angels once. Samrael was a servant of God. A direct servant. I can’t imagine feeling greater regret than turning away from that.”

  Another good point.

  Why is she making so many good points?

  “Do you have any idea what he took from me, Daryn? I’ve never hated anything as much as him. I’ll kill him before I give him a second chance.”

  “You think killing him would make you feel better?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “What about your dad? He died but you still love him, don’t you?”

  I don’t like where this is going. “Of course.”

  “So it’s transcended death. You could say the love you feel is eternal.”

  “You could say that.”

  “Why do you think your hate would be any different? If love transcends death, why doesn’t hatred?”

  “Because Samrael deserves to die and my dad didn’t.”

  Daryn stares at me. “I don’t think killing Samrael would rid you of the hatred. I think all you’d be doing is adding layers of guilt. I know you. You’re not cold-blooded.”

  Bastian’s words shoot through my mind. You only justify it by saying it’s for the right reason. “You’re giving me too much credit.”

  “I’m not. You have a big heart and a big conscience.”

  “I have a bigger sword. This isn’t just about me. If we let Samrael out, we’re endangering everyone. We’d be right back where we started. We know he’s a mind manipulator. I know what he can do—it’s not good, Daryn. He uses your worst fears against you. I only experienced it for a few weeks. Bas has been here for months.”

  “You think he brainwashed Bas?”

  “What other explanation is there?”

  “Bas is telling the truth. Samrael has changed. Why else would he want to leave here? In the fall, Samrael’s entire goal was getting in here to amass power, remember? He wanted to form an evil army with the Kindred. Maybe he doesn’t want that anymore. Maybe he wants what Bas is saying. A fresh start.”

  “No,” I say. “It’s what Samrael wants us to think, but he hasn’t changed. If we let him out of the Rift, all hell breaks loose. He’ll form his own little band of rebel demons and it’ll be the same thing all over again. Or worse. We stopped the Kindred in the fall, Daryn. They need to stay stopped. I have no problem carrying around some personal guilt if it means keeping thousands, maybe millions of innocent people safe.

  “If we do what Bas wants and go to this fortified location, the odds are I’ll kill Samrael, or he’ll kill me. That’s just the reality here. It’s the reality of this situation.”

  Daryn blinks at me. Then she takes my wrist and pulls my arm around her, tucking her head against my chest like she’s listening for my heartbeat.

  I freeze. I’m clenching my teeth so hard I’m giving myself a headache. “You’re throwing me off balance here, Martin. What is this tactic, anyway?”

  “I just like the way you feel.”

  I hear myself laugh. It sounds like the laugh of someone in pain.

  She firms her grip around my waist, and her body heat reaches me. Her scent. One breath at a time, she wins. I relax and pull her all the way in. “You kill me, Martin,” I whisper into her hair. “I really like you.”

  She reaches for my prosthetic, and weaves her fingers
through its metal ones like it’s part of me. “Same.”

  It’s so quiet that I can hear her every breath. I scan the area around us, checking for relics, hauntings. Harrows. I don’t know what it’s like to not expect danger anymore.

  “Gideon,” Daryn says, her voice gentle and soft. “We have to leave room to consider every possibility.”

  I thought we were done. I wanted to be done. “I can’t, Daryn. I’m not trying to be bullheaded. But I can’t forgive Samrael for what he did. We could talk about this for a year. I’m never going to see this the way you do.”

  “Then trust me. Trust how I see it.”

  “You know I trust you. Don’t put me in this position.”

  She leans back and looks at me. “Think about it? Just think about it.”

  How can I say no? I nod.

  She smiles. “Thanks.” She slides into my lap and wraps her arms around my neck. Then there’s nothing else but her.

  * * *

  As Daryn leads me back to the campfire she tells me that nothing needs to be decided now. “At least just be near us. The important thing right now is that we’re together again.”

  I keep my trap shut. The important thing right now is that we need to get out of here. The important thing is that we have a real problem on our hands—one we need to address quickly.

  We’ve been lucky to avoid the Harrows since we came in last time with Cordero’s group. And the hauntings have sucked, but we’ve survived them. All of that could change in a heartbeat. We need a firm exit plan. We need to take action.

  When we get back to the campsite, Jode and Sebastian are sacked out and only Marcus is awake, keeping watch.

  “I’ve got it,” I tell him, dropping against a tree. “I’ll keep a lookout.”

  He nods. He knows I’ll be up anyway. Then he rolls into his blanket.

  I’m still not sure where we stand. I can’t tell if he’s still pissed at me for something a dozen fake me’s did.

  Daryn plops down beside me. “I’ll stay up with you,” she says, shaping her backpack into a pillow.

  “It’s okay. Better for only one of us to be tired.”

  She smiles. “Okay. Then I’ll sleep.”

  She stretches out beside me. I twirl the wavy hair at the base of her neck around my fingers and watch her eyes drift closed.

  I wonder how it’ll be when we get out of here. If things will change. If I’ll still get to do stuff like this, touch her like she’s mine. I imagine introducing her to Anna, and how that would go. I think they’d get along really well—a painter and a writer. I picture Mom meeting Daryn and get choked up, because there’s no chance Dad will ever know her.

  After a while, my thoughts grow darker. I imagine breaking earth and splintering sheets of ice. I see Low’s brutalized, lifeless body.

  Then my mind reaches back into my past and I see the things Samrael planted in my head once.

  My mother, standing over my grave.

  My father, falling to his death.

  My sister, losing her mind.

  Daryn, with Samrael.

  With him, the same way she was with me a little while ago.

  Before long I’m grinding my teeth and stressed out of my mind. I exhale a long breath, pushing the tension out, and my gaze falls on Daryn’s notebook. I grab it and flip it open, turning to “Reasons.”

  Right away I notice that there are several kinds of handwriting. I recognize Marcus’s ridiculously fancy cursive. He writes like he’s signing the Declaration of Independence. I know Daryn’s, of course. And Jode’s, which is like a lighter version of Marcus’s. My scrawl’s here on the few lines I added a while ago. And then there are the lines written in block letters that slant to the left like they’re leaning backward.

  Bastian’s writing.

  From what I can tell, they passed the journal around, everyone adding to it. But somewhere along the way Sebastian took over. His additions make up the last ten entries.

  I sit up, angling the page so the firelight hits it, and read.

  65. The end of a long wait for something. Waiting is the worst!—S. L.

  66. The way good friends don’t change very much even after a long time apart. (I knew we’d get right back to this!)—S. L.

  67. CHOCOLATE! Chocolate chips in trail mix! Chocolate is the king of foods!—S. L.

  68. The time G and I were sock surfing in the hallways of the train in maybe Sweden?—S. L.

  69. Jode’s laugh. Psycho! (Have to use on a character someday.)—S. L.

  70. This list! I love it!—S. L.

  71. Knowing that even though someone’s pissed at you, it’s only temporary. Good friends forgive.—S. L.

  72. Loyalty, and walking the line between old friends and new ones.—S. L.

  Damn.

  “What do you think?” Marcus is still awake. He sits up, rubbing a hand over his face.

  “About the list?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “About what Bas wants. About us going to this place to see Samrael.”

  “Worst idea I’ve ever heard. I’m not exaggerating. The top worst.” I catch myself using Bas’s words. It’s already happening. I’m already picking his dumb sayings up. “What do you think? And what about Jode?”

  “He hasn’t said. He’s been listening, asking questions.” Marcus shrugs. “I’m same as you.”

  None of that surprises me. And I already know where the last member of our group stands. Daryn has pulled her legs up and curled into a ball. She’s almost smiling in her sleep. “How’s she going along with this idea? She’s handing out trust like it’s free.”

  Marcus rubs a hand over his scalp. “You don’t think it is?”

  “No. Do you?”

  “Not in my life. Not how I learned it.” He lies back and stares at the patchwork of night sky, branches and leaves. “But maybe it should be.”

  We’re quiet for a while. I debate dredging up the past. Never a good idea, but I do it anyway. “Are you still pissed at me?”

  He looks at me. “I didn’t like how it felt.”

  “You know it wasn’t me. If I could I’d go back and beat all of my asses.”

  “I know.”

  “Okay. You’re not breaking up with me, right?”

  He smiles. “I’m gonna give you another chance.”

  I knew we were fine. It’d take a lot more to damage our friendship. But it’s still good to hear. “Marcus, if we do this thing for Bas, I can’t go anywhere near Samrael.”

  “You think I can?”

  “No. Jode, though. I think Ellis could do it.”

  “And Dare,” he adds.

  I bite down on my bottom lip. My gut keeps telling me this is wrong, and that giving Samrael an opening is the last thing we should do. But I’ve learned to trust Daryn’s instincts. We have to do this.

  “Tomorrow, Marcus. We’ll go to this place. You and I will hang back. We’ll keep the orb with us. Bas, Jode, and Daryn can ride on to see Samrael.”

  “Dang,” Marcus says, shaking his head.

  “I know, man. I know.” But there are no good options.

  We’re going to have to take some risks.

  CHAPTER 27

  DARYN

  “We’d been searching around the lake for a few days,” Bastian says. “Rael and I knew that’s where we’d find you. It’s the only source of freshwater anywhere near here.” He looks back and smiles at me. Then his gaze lands right over my shoulder, on Gideon, and his smile disappears.

  We’re on our way to meet Samrael.

  Gideon is a tall and silent presence at my back. I’m riding with him, tandem, and this close, there’s no escaping the tension in his body.

  This morning, I was shocked to learn that everyone is on board with what Bas wants.

  Jode agreed. Marcus. And most surprisingly, Gideon, who’s been virtually silent all morning and is clearly not happy about it.

  But we’re going.

  In two days, we’ll reach Samrael at Gray Fo
rt, the small fortified settlement where he and Bas have been living. At which point I’m not sure what happens.

  Jode and I talk to Samrael? Make some kind of determination about whether he’s worthy enough to leave here?

  I’m not sure how to get that done.

  How do you judge character? Literally judge it?

  How do you ascribe some quantifiable metrics to a person’s morality?

  Yes, you scored in the seventieth percentile for kindness, but you’re in the twenties for lying. I’m very sorry. You need to stay.

  How does that work? And when did Jode and I become the morality police?

  I can’t fool myself, though. The real weight of responsibility falls on me. I control the orb. I’m the gatekeeper, whether I want to be or not.

  Bas continues. “We saw Shadow on the ice—but I’d felt her before that.” He pats her as he talks. I’d forgotten how he likes to tell stories. It’s been too quiet without him. “I knew you were close, right girl? But then we saw Jode and Gideon across the lake. I was so happy I couldn’t even speak. I lost it, right there. Rael and I agreed that he should let me come to you alone first, so I could explain things. He turned back, taking my horse. My normal horse. Did I tell you we have those? Not many. Just a few. Anyway, I rounded the lake and found Shadow, and then you guys. I would have come straight for you across the ice, but I knew it was a haunting. I wouldn’t have been able to help.”

  “Whoa—hold on,” Jode interrupts. “A haunting?”

  Marcus and I lock eyes.

  “Yeah. The changes that happen in this place? It’s like this is a giant stage with moving parts and trapdoors and special effects. It can do anything. Jumble up your thoughts and spit them back at you. It’s crazy. Like a nightmare that’s real. I hate it. But not all the hauntings are bad. Some can be pretty cool. I’ve actually been through a few that are really beautiful.”

  “Really?” Jode says. “You’ve had good hauntings?”

  “Oh, yeah. Don’t ask me how they happen because I don’t know. They just do. Anytime, too. There are no rules here. Anything goes.”

 

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