by Ryan Muree
There was silence, save for their battle-heavy breathing.
Emeryss looked back at Orr. “He copies anything we cast.”
Adalai wiped the sweat away from her forehead and continued the slow dance around him. “You can’t use your own ether, can you? You’re—”
“Etherless,” Emeryss breathed.
Orr smiled and bowed. “Congratulations, you caught me. I’m worse than a Neerian. Still want to kill me?”
Yes.
No.
She shook her head. “You…” she swallowed. “You used me.”
Orr shrugged. “I was your general. You were my soldier—”
“No. You used me. Me!”
“Do you expect me to say that I’m sorry?”
“No! I want you to feel sorry for what you’ve done, what you did!”
Orr’s broad shoulders and square jaw lifted at her words. He was proud of it. “All’s fair in love and war, Adalai.”
His arrogance. His disdain for her… for her feelings.
The fact she ever had feelings for this… this monster of a human being, it was infuriating.
How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been so vulnerable and let him in, let him do this to her, let him ruin everything she’d tried to make of herself?
She charged at him with her daggers out, grunting through every slash and pierce. From one wall to the other, they Blinked and swung and dodged each other, over and over. If she could just land one swipe, this would be over.
She leaned against the desk and panted, while he caught his breath against an oversized vase that had been broken. Emeryss moved toward her, but she tried to gesture Emeryss away. She didn’t want to risk Emeryss’s life, too, especially if Orr was focused on her.
Adalai wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. “You know you’ve already lost,” she said. “You killed the king. Your troops are being destroyed by your allies and your enemies. I’ve made it this far, and I’m not letting you go.”
He scoffed through breaths. “When I picked you up off the streets, I thought: Here’s a girl with a good head on her shoulders. You could be General under my rule—”
“I don’t want it like this.”
“Then you never wanted it badly enough.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true—”
“Turns out, you’re just another kid believing she’s so much more than she is.”
Emeryss bristled beside her.
“That’s a pretty stupid thing to say for someone who doesn’t even have ether.”
He chuckled and wiped his forehead. “Who’s less intelligent, Adalai? Me or the person who believed everything I said?”
Tears burned at the corner of her eyes. “I was a child! I thought of you as a father!”
“You were weak.”
“I was alone! I was starving! I looked up to you!” Her voice cracked, and she hated it. She hated everything about this—all of it—but it felt good screaming at him for once in her life instead of being screamed at. “I believed everything you said because I thought you cared—”
“You believed everything I said because you were weak! I made you who you are! I made you stronger, but you’re still that lost, lonely little girl!”
“You left me to die in Sufford—”
“As I said—”
“I’m not weak!” she screamed. “I put up with everything you did to me—all the training, all the pain, all the extra missions and assignments. I did everything you asked, and you were just using me for this?” She held her hands up. “For power? To be king? So, you could tell everyone else what to do, too?”
The lines on his face softened. Not by much, but just enough.
“Was I always just another one of your soldiers?” She sniffled.
There was a long pause. Was it an internal battle for him to say yes? Was he trying to find something cutting and damning to say? His silence was answer enough.
She roared and leaped to him, dagger in hand.
This time he caught her by the wrist, and she struggled in his grip.
“Adalai!” Emeryss ran toward them.
“I’ll handle this!” Adalai yelled back.
But she couldn’t get her wrist free. He was crushing her—bones and spirit. She kicked at him and tried to wriggle out. When she attempted to Blink, he Blinked with her, and they collided with a wall. She pulled and strained.
He was wrong; she wasn’t that lonely girl. Not anymore. Emeryss was there with her, and she’d had Cayn, too.
Her feet suddenly left the ground.
He’d thrown her, and she was across the room. She crashed into the wall and slid to the floor with a crunch and a cry. The pain arced through her entire body, pulsing to her limbs, weakening her resolve. The air in her lungs was gone. Her chest was numb. Her fingers and toes tingled. Her temples ached. Tears and sweat stung and clouded her vision.
How could he do this to her? And why? She needed to stop him. She needed to know why…
Emeryss signed something onto the air behind Orr as he charged for Adalai again.
Orr reached for Adalai’s scalp, but she Blinked behind him and onto his back before he could.
She wrapped both arms around his head, despite him Blinking again to try and throw her off. She just had to hold on long enough and fight through her own pain.
He Blinked again and again until, finally, he hesitated, breathing heavily and coughing.
This was it.
She Blinked in front of him, kicked him in the chest, and grabbed his forehead. “Remap Mind!”
The room melted away and filled with visions of the past.
Of his past.
Of people she did and didn’t recognize from the RCA. He’d laughed as the king pled for mercy on the ground in his own blood. He’d killed RCA and advisors through the years without a second glance and hid the evidence. He’d worked with the Ingini, slept with Kimpert, used her to get special tech and deals, and then killed those Ingini with a smile. He’d ordered children to be captured and tortured for their scribing…
Hate. Malice. Pain. He’d become a tyrant.
Deeper still, the memories flooded through her.
He’d been a student. Alone. He’d been an excellent candidate in academy. Ignored by classmates. Feared by classmates and instructors. He’d hidden his casting ability for fear of people hating him or distrusting him even more. He’d worked with Avrist when they were young, but Avrist… Avrist was cruel to him, too. Orr had been one of the youngest generals. He’d had parents who ignored him, and then they’d abandoned him as a young boy. The RCA had been his only way out.
And then there was Adalai.
She stood before him in his memory with pink pigtails and a gap between her front teeth.
Warmth flooded the room.
Adalai as a young girl. Adalai as a teen. Adalai as a young woman.
Adalai was always smiling at him, listening to everything he’d said.
He didn’t hate her. He didn’t know how to love her.
She was never weak, and he’d never seen her as such. Orr was the weak one for giving in to the cruelty, for losing himself in the darkness, for never realizing that she’d cared for him all those years.
One by one, the images, his memories, his pain, filled the room, swelling it to a breaking point.
That’s where they were different.
She’d nearly succumbed to the wickedness in the world, too, but hadn’t because she’d felt the weight of her decisions on her spirit and she had people who’d helped her along the way. Despite her mistakes, Emeryss had been by her side, even now. Grier had pulled her out of the arena. Cayn saw her for what she was and didn’t care. Clove had chosen to work alongside her again instead of killing her. Jahree had come back for another mission to help her get in the palace. Even Orr had saved her from starvation…
Killing Orr was failing herself and falling for his cruelty. She would, however, make sure he felt what he’d done to her,
what he’d done to everyone. And if he cared for no one else, she would have to remap his mind to show him losing the one thing he might have cared for.
Me.
She grabbed hold of the better images of the Adalai in his mind and found the one from his most recent memory—the two of them fighting right there in the king’s office. This was the one she would alter.
Adalai stopped fighting and stood before him. “I give up. You win. But you’ll have to kill me first.”
He reached for her neck, grasping and squeezing her flesh between his fingers.
She choked. She cried. She clawed at his hands, begging him to stop.
He squeezed harder until there was no more air.
Her eyes rolled back in her head. Her skin paled and lost its light sheen.
He released her, and her body fell dead to the floor before disintegrating in a cloud of magenta ether.
The room rushed back into view. The crumbling furniture, the busted walls, and Orr.
She held her breath and cast Invisibility on herself and Emeryss.
Orr stood there with a blank expression, looking at the ground where her body should have been. His anger was gone. His menacing glare had vanished. Gashes on his face and arms bled, and a red mark on his chin was yellowing.
Emeryss went to speak, but Adalai shook her head and lifted a finger to her lips.
Moments of silence passed. Maybe an eternity.
Finally, Orr dropped to his hands and knees, and released an agonizing wail.
Tears bubbled in her eyes, but she kept still.
“I had no choice,” he sobbed at the floor. “I didn’t want to kill you. I didn’t want to kill you…” His shoulders and hands quaked as he pounded the ground until his fists were bloody. “Please! Come back to me! Don’t leave me!”
Adalai covered her sobs with both hands, unable to show him she was still alive.
Shouting echoed from outside the office, but he didn’t move.
Two UA officers, a Keeper Commander, and four Revelian Advisors busted through the doors and into the room.
“Grab him,” one of the advisors ordered.
Mumbling and wailing, he let them drag him out by his arms.
Adalai let the Invisibility fall with a gasp.
She cried harder than she had for her dead mother cold on her cot. Harder than she had when Orr rapped her knuckles for not doing enough push-ups. Harder than she had after she’d returned to Aurelis a failed leader of the Zephyrs.
She didn’t know why or what she was supposed to say… It just hurt. Everything hurt. Every inch of her felt broken open and selfish.
Tears burned down her cheeks and chin. She was…
“I’m so sorry,” she wailed with her face in her hands. “I couldn’t do it, Emeryss. I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t—”
“You changed his memory,” Emeryss breathed. “He thinks he’s killed you?”
“I couldn’t kill him,” Adalai managed. “Then I’d be just as bad as him. I wanted him to feel what he’d done.”
“You did the right thing,” Emeryss whispered, holding her there on the floor. “You’re better than him.”
“Only… because I’ve had you, and the Zephyrs, and all the others—”
“Come on.” Emeryss pulled her up with both arms. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 37
Somewhere — Ingini
Three Months Later
Clove couldn’t see through the fabric Cayn had tied over her eyes. “That wasn’t a half-bad landing, Mack.”
“Half-bad? It was damn good!” he said.
She shrugged, imagining his olive eyes narrowing at her. “You’re still learning, but it was okay.”
Cayn nudged her knee. “Ready?”
She stood and held her hands up, trying to get a sense of what was in front of her. “If I walk into a wall, I’m going to shoot both of you.”
Mack snickered. “If you walk into a wall, we’ll be sure to laugh and then run.”
He placed a hand at her back and guided her down the cargo hold of her new airship.
It had been a gift from Revel, restitution for shooting Pigyll down as well as an attempt to make allies out of Ingini. She’d accepted it, of course, especially since Jahree had made sure she was at the top of the list to receive it. He’d said it was also in thanks for working with Emeryss and the Library on a training method for future Ingineers. Whatever kept things improving.
“Can I see now?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Cayn said.
Damp grass squished beneath her boots. Salty, cool air. They were near an ocean somewhere, and she’d venture to guess… somewhere north?
No way…
Mack and Cayn led her around the airship, where the wind whipped up and bit at her skin.
Definitely north.
“Okay,” Cayn said. “You can look now.”
She stuck a thumb under the fabric and slipped it up slowly.
A house.
An older house sat near the edge of the Endov Sea. It had a front porch, several windows, and two stories… It was one of the biggest homes she’d ever seen. It was wooden, but all the wood was matching and not molding. It didn’t look mashed together like Scuffle’s. It needed new paint and some cleaning, but…
“What is this?” she asked, too afraid to assume.
“This is your house,” Mack smirked.
“And we’re in Nilkham,” Cayn added.
Mack took her wrist and placed a small key in the center of her palm. It was old enough to still have keys.
“My house?” she repeated. “Really? My house?” She closed her hand around the precious key.
Cayn had stepped ahead slightly. “I mean, it’s okay—”
“It’s mine? Really?”
Cayn swung himself around. He was beaming ear to ear. “Really. You like it?”
“Like it?” The air, the words, the thoughts… They’d all escaped. “Really? This is mine?”
Mack laughed a little. “How many times are you going to ask?”
“It’s huge! It’s unbelievable.”
“It’s got a few bedrooms,” Mack said, “a couple bathrooms, a real kitchen, no holes in the walls. It’s the real deal.”
She couldn’t believe it. She could scream.
“And…” Cayn said with a finger up. “A barn.”
She moved around the side of the airship and found a decent-sized barn a short distance from the house.
“We figured you could turn it into a workshop though,” Mack said, hands deep in his pockets.
“You did this?” She asked them. “You bought this?”
“We did,” Cayn said. “It was part of our reward from Revel.”
“But you were supposed to use that on you. Not me. It was supposed to help you fix your lives.”
Cayn shrugged. “It is, technically. Are you not going to let me crash here when I need to escape my clients in Ethrecity?”
“Your clients?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with myself,” he said, chin up. “Maybe I’ll help you. Maybe I’ll go see the world finally.”
And Mack? She whirled around to look at him. “Your earnings…”
“I have to be honest,” he said with a definite wrinkle in his forehead. “I didn’t use my money to fund it. I took it from Branson.”
“Branson?” Her old, greasy shipping boss who’d gotten her in all this mess? The one that hid his money in the crevices of his office? The one she’d told Mack to burn down—Oh no.
Mack looked down, left, right… He wouldn’t make eye contact. “When you were working with Emeryss these last few months, I made a stop in Mukdur and—”
She gasped. “You didn’t.”
“It was in the walls. The seats. The cushions. Just like you said. I think it kept the place standing upright.”
As much as she loved the idea of Branson getting what he’d deserved, she couldn’t believ
e Mack had followed through with it. “You didn’t—”
“He was working for Kimpert the whole time,” Mack said. “The CEO’s had already taken him in and sentenced him for treason. The place was empty. I literally walked in, took it, and walked out.”
She scoffed, and then laughed, before hugging Mack. “Thank you so much.”
His warm arms wrapped around her.
“What will you do now?” She pulled away. “Go be a transport pilot?”
He chewed his lip. “I was thinking about it. I was also thinking about being a shipping pilot. There’s good money in trade with Revel. Something to keep me busy and out of the mines.”
He was really thinking about leaving. About going his own way. And she’d hoped he would, but it also felt wrong to grow apart. What was that? Was that commitment? Or was that feeling one of wanting to be committed to someone?
And while he was off, she would live alone? Technically?
Cayn would be around. Sort of.
So why did it feel like she’d be alone?
Because she would be.
She’d gone from sharing a shack with Cayn and living with all these Revelians to absolute silence? She’d said she’d wanted it, she’d teased that she wanted to be alone, and she didn’t want to be back in Dimmur, but…
“If you’re leaving, then where’s your home?” she asked, voice breaking.
He sucked on his bottom lip and looked away. “With Lark gone, I don’t know yet.”
What was the worst he could say? That it wasn’t with her?
She swallowed. “Here.” The word tumbled out as quickly as she could say it. “Can your home be here?”
She didn’t know what she was asking of him.
She didn’t know if it was fair or right or what he wanted.
She didn’t know if it was a commitment or a promise.
In truth, she didn’t care.
She just knew she wanted him there, that he’d been right, and they were stronger together. She knew without a doubt that letting him go was harder than letting him in.
“You sure?” he asked.
“I had to ask. I can’t… I want you to…”
He crossed his arms and smiled. “I want to hear it.”