"So I hear that there was a prisoner escape at Mael," my father said across the dinner table. He'd obviously noticed my happiness and wanted to destroy it. "Your Raven woman fled across the ocean."
I grunted in acknowledgment.
"Boy, when the king of Kylae addresses you, you answer yes, sire," he snapped at me. I hadn't said "yes, sire" in my entire life, and I sure as hell wasn't about to start now.
"Grieg, don't harass the boy," my mother said.
Even though it was a private family dinner, it was still dangerous for her to correct him at all. On his left side, Rhys tossed me a nervous look, as if he, too, was waiting for the explosion.
Instead, my father turned back to his meal. "So, boy, when do you think you'll return to active duty?"
"Grieg, he just got back," my mother gasped, giving him a look that told him exactly what she thought about my military service. "Give him a month, at least!"
"Korina, his fellow soldiers don't get to relax at home with their mommies," my father snarled at her, and making my blood boil. "He's a man, and he needs—"
"I don't think I'm going back," I said, the confidence in my voice surprising everyone in the room, myself included.
"What was that, boy?" My father looked nearly apoplectic and I wasn't sure that I'd help him if he collapsed with a heart attack.
"I said," I smiled, loving this feeling of control, "I'm resigning my commission and returning to the hospital."
My father's face turned a bright red as his rage boiled. "And what makes you think I'll let you do that?"
"Because I don't give a flying fuck what you think anymore," I said, enjoying the shock that rippled across the table. "I'm done fighting your little war—"
"That Raven whore put some ideas in your head, huh?" My father looked as if he were about to explode, and I rather hoped he would. "She sucked your dick and suddenly you're a pacifist!"
"I didn't need her to tell me what a bastard you are," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Oh, Mael's perfectly safe. Isn't that what you said? Guess what I found on that island? Your grandfather's secret testing lab. Very illuminating how they used to test barethium on humans. I saw the photos."
My mother's spoon clattered to the ground as she stared at my father. "What?"
He swallowed, but didn't refute my claim.
"And besides that, when's the last time the Ravens actually attacked us? When's the last time you actually considered the possibility of peace with them? When was the last time you did anything to try to decouple our economy from the business of killing people? Or is that too difficult for you?"
"You better watch yourself, boy," My father growled. "I can send you to Mael and—"
"Go ahead," I dared, standing up. "I'll be sure to hold a press conference from there about how you left me on the island for two months."
The room fell silent and my father didn't refute it. I could see the horror on my mother's face and the uncertainty on my brother's. But I didn't dare move my eyes away from my father's.
"You had the entirety of the Kylaen air forces at your disposal, and Kader is the one who found me." Blood pounded faster in my ears with every moment Grieg didn't refute me. "It was better for you to just wait for me to die of my own accord. Three days you waited before the mourning propaganda started. You had no intention of coming to get me."
"Gally." My mother was sobbing.
"Tell me I'm wrong, Father," I growled, pointing at the man. "Tell me you put your forces towards my retrieval. Tell me you were more worried about whether your youngest son lived or died. Tell me that, I'll suit back up and fight your stupid war."
My father sat back, the look on his face telling enough. He was cut from the same cloth as his father, and his father's father. The kind of man who knew—and didn't care—that building processing plants for barethium would result in the death of anyone with long-term exposure to it. He was the kind of man who would sentence children to death for simply existing.
Even more galling: he was the kind of man who would maintain the status quo because it was too hard to try to change anything. And that, more than anything else, was why I decided then and there that I no longer wished to be his son.
I turned to leave, and my father's voice floated over to me as I flung open the door. "Did you help that woman escape?"
"Yes, sire," I said with a flourished bow before storming out of the family room, feeling freer than I'd ever felt in my life.
And as I thought about how much I wanted to tell Theo, to hear her once again tell me how proud she was of me, the ache in my heart returned.
Theo
The hospitals in Rave were much filthier than the ones in Kylae, but I was eternally grateful. I was home, I was in my country, with my people—as screwed up and helpless as they were.
This was where I belonged.
So why couldn't I stop missing him?
"You're damned lucky, is what you are," Lanis repeated, sitting in the chair to my right. My old chief mechanic hadn't left my side since I landed the Kylaen plane in the airstrip of my forward operating base. He was right; I was damned lucky that no one had shot me out of the sky. But my pilot code had given them enough pause to call Lanis to the tower, and he'd recognized my voice.
There was an audible gasp when they saw the guard uniform. Everyone in Rave knew what the Mael uniforms looked like.
Lanis dragged me to the nearest hospital, and the doctors did as much as they could for me. The nurses provided me with a clean hospital gown and propped my leg up on a pillow. They gave me a small ration of food, though it was more than I'd ever eaten on the island. No one pressed me for details on what had happened to me, and I let them assume the worst.
I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell them about the island. About Galian. It was partially because I didn't want them to know I'd been so close to the prince and hadn't killed him, but more so because I didn't want to admit what had really happened out loud.
No matter how long I'd stood in the shower and scrubbed at my skin, the stench of Mael clung to me and my sleep had been plagued by nightmares of tumored children shoveling black stones.
My heart was at war with itself now. For as much as I loved Galian, I hated his country. I hated what they were doing in the name of their own war machine. I hated the callousness with which they treated their enemies and their own citizens. That Galian had come from such a place was a testament to how good a person he really was.
As much as I struggled, as much as I told myself it was a futile effort, my heart still resided with him. That island had bonded us, and I knew in the bottom of my soul that I would never be truly happy again until the war was over, the prisoners were free, and I was in his arms. But that thought only made my heart hurt again. Without Galian there to fill it up, my optimism was woefully depleted.
I remembered his promise to me. He'd said it wasn't over. But Kylae and Rave had been at war for fifty years; what could he do?
I heard a commotion outside my room, and Lanis went to check it for me. Before he got two steps, the door swung open.
A man I'd only seen on the news walked into my room and it was as surreal as the day I'd first laid eyes on Galian. President Bayard was shorter than he appeared in photos, but his hair was oilier and slicked back. His black goatee shimmered on his dark skin—darker, I noticed, through the use of caked-on makeup.
As if that weren't enough to surprise me, twenty reporters and five cameras shoved into my cramped hospital room after him, chattering and grunting like a horde. Their lenses focused on Bayard and an aide handed him a microphone.
I tossed a confused look at Lanis, who looked astonished as I was, and I nervously flattened my hospital gown. The president was positively beaming as he adjusted himself in front of the camera, taking almost no notice of me. Up close, I could see the makeup falling into his creased face, and he looked much older than he seemed in photos.
"Ready?" He nodded to the first cameraman, who gave him a countdown. Then he bega
n with a booming, "Good evening, fellow citizens of Raven. I bring you incredible tidings of joy on this beautiful and most glorious day—another in our beautiful independence."
The familiarity of his voice and his words were at once calming and unnerving. I'd heard him on the radio since I was a little girl—he'd been my president for most of my life—but to have him there in that room...
"Today, I'm here in the hospital room of one of the many brave pilots in our Raven fleet, Captain Theo Kallistrate." He paused to gesture to me in the bed, and I wondered if I should wave or something. My hands were sweaty with nerves. "The good captain has endured great trials since she was considered lost at sea two months ago. We had already placed a star on the wall in her honor."
There was no such wall, although the politicians talked about it all the time. If there were truly a wall where all fallen Ravens were honored, it would contain more stars than the night sky.
Bayard continued. "But this morning, she arrived..." He paused for dramatic effect. "...in a prisoner uniform from Mael."
A gasp arose from the reporters, and I wondered if they'd been paid to do that.
"You see, our good captain was held prisoner by the Kylaens, forced to work in the mines in unspeakable terror. For a whole two months, you see...and she survived."
I clenched my jaw; so that was what they were doing with me. I was now to be the latest of Rave's Celebrated Heroes. Perhaps I'd get an increase in my food rations.
"Captain Kallistrate returned to us with not just herself, but ten of our Raven brothers and sisters in the ship she stole from the Kylaens."
My heart fell to my stomach. I hadn't rescued anyone. It was one thing to make up my trials at Mael, but I was not going to be made a hero. Not when I could still the faces of the children I hadn't saved. I remembered the little boy with a tumor in his stomach. The woman—it was too much to lie about.
"President—"
With a great wave of his hand, he took mine in his and kissed them. His lips were thick and slimy against my skin.
"You have my humblest thanks for bringing our Raven brothers and sisters home," he said, loud enough for the cameras to catch it, but with a look that only I saw.
I swallowed my confession. It was clear I had no say in what was going on.
He turned to address the rest of the room and the cameras again. "Captain, or, dare I say, Major Kallistrate." He smiled at me. I supposed that was my promotion announcement. "From this point on, you shall be an orphan no more," he said to the cameras. "For Rave is your mother, Rave is your father, Rave is your brother, and your sister. And you, my dear Theo, are our 'neechai."
A few of the nurses broke out into loud tears, overcome with emotions. Bayard smiled for the cameras, holding my hand and letting the photographers take a few photos.
"That's a wrap, sir," the cameraman said, taking the camera off his shoulder.
"Excellent," Bayard said, releasing my hand and his smarmy expression. "You'll do well, Theo. Very well."
"What is this about?"
Bayard adjusted the cuffs on his expensive jacket; it seemed out of place in a country so desperate for cash. "We're weary of war, weary of hardships, and some think it would be best if our country returned to the sovereign rule of Kylae. Back to being the king's slaves."
The thought made me sick to my stomach, and I told him as much.
"The country needs someone to believe in, someone who's been to the other side and chose to come home. Someone to stand in front of a camera and remind our mothers why they're sending their sons and daughters to war. Someone to rally the troops."
I cringed inwardly. Galian had said his father would do the same thing about his own death. After what I had been through, I wanted this war to be over. I didn't want to be a pawn any more. But I also knew an opportunity when I saw one.
"What do I get in return?"
He laughed. "They said you were smart, but cunning I did not expect," he said, sizing me up. "Well, my dear kallistrate, if you play nice in front of the cameras for a few months, I shall give you a place by my side in the President's cabinet."
My heart beat faster as he spoke of all the benefits of being his right-hand woman. But all I could think about was that I'd be in the thick of the Raven leadership. Perhaps in a position of power, I could find a way to stop the war.
Perhaps I could find a way back to my amichai.
"Well, Theo," Bayard said, interrupting my thoughts. "Will you answer the call?"
The flame of hope reignited in my soul.
S. Usher Evans
ONE
Galian
"Fellow Ravens, my countrymen, my 'neechais and 'nichais. In the fifty years since we've reclaimed our independence from the Kylaens, our great nation has struggled. Great sacrifices have been asked of every Raven man, woman, and child, and we, as a people, continue to rise to the occasion."
"Sacrifices, of course, being the conscription of twelve-year-old children," the Kylaen announcer said, cutting off the rest of the speech. "It's just sickening how Tedwin Bayard continues to be heralded as a savior when he's responsible for tens of thousands of deaths a year—"
I tuned out the rest of the conversation, too tired to get my blood pressure up at either Bayard or the announcer. As far as I was concerned, both were liars. Like most of Kylae, I couldn't give a rat's ass about the so-called president of our disputed colony and would've completely ignored the minute-long segment...
...if not for the beautiful Raven woman sitting just behind Bayard.
Her eyes were locked on some unseen point beyond the cameras. When I was marooned with her on an island in the northern Madion Sea, she'd been fiery, full of life and passion. Now, there didn't seem to even be a spark in her. Compared to Bayard, who swayed and gestured on the podium, she looked like a wax doll.
I ran a hand over my face. The Kylaen news had moved on to another story—the trade agreement with Jervan—and I was left with my guilt and a half-eaten sandwich. It was midday, and I'd finally been able to spare a few minutes out of my busy shift at the hospital to eat lunch. Seeing Theo had stolen my appetite.
I couldn't blame it all on the news report as I'd already been in a foul mood. After working the late shift two nights ago, I was now on an early shift. The back-and-forth shift-switching had been going on since since I'd returned to my residency, and I could barely tell if it was morning or afternoon anymore.
To make matters worse, my mother had been hounding me to attend some stupid function at the castle for some person who'd done some thing for Kylae—I couldn't care less. Aside from state functions being my least favorite princely activity, I hadn't set foot in the castle in over four months. I'd stormed out of a family dinner and told the king of Kylae to kiss my ass. It was a miracle I wasn't in Mael, our prison to the north.
I glanced at the television again and wished they'd replay the Bayard segment. Days like today, when I was tired and miserable, all I wanted was to talk to her. In the two months we'd spent together, I'd become addicted to her counsel. Hers was the only opinion I cared for anymore, though I was pretty sure I knew how she'd feel about my progress so far.
Theo was home and she was safe, but the larger issues—the war and the Kylaen death camp at Mael—remained nagging issues in the back of my mind. I was no closer to finding a solution to either of them than when I'd started. To make matters worse, the days were passing too quickly for me, and the more time that slipped through my fingers...
"Helmuth, break's over," came a disgruntled voice from behind me.
Dr. Hebendon was my new attending physician. Dr. Maitland had either been asked or forced to take a six-month sabbatical to a hospital in the country of Herin. In his place, they'd sent Hebendon. Like most Herinese, he was tall and pale with jet-black hair that hung in a curtain around his face. I was pretty sure that despite not being Kylaen, he'd been given a royal decree to make my life miserable whenever I set foot in the hospital. Thus my skewed schedule and, of course, the s
pecial privilege of having the best cases.
"Janna needs you in room fifteen for another impaction," he said, a twisted grin curling around his thin face.
I forced a tight smile onto my face so he wouldn't know how completely sick I was of pulling shit out of asses.
Hebendon left, and I pushed myself to stand, tossing my sad sandwich in the trash. When I'd been on the island, I would've done anything to eat so much food.
Now I would've done anything to get those half-starved, beautiful days back.
I took the long way from the doctor's lounge to the patient room where, yet again, I would be dealing in shit. I paused at the window and stared at the Madion Sea. Today it was an awe-inspiring aquamarine, sparkling in the mid-afternoon sun—a far cry from the tumultuous gray water near our island. Although the windows were thick, winter's chill was still pressing in. I tapped my fingers to the icy glass and squinted to the west.
Some days, when I was feeling particularly angry or brave, I considered returning to Mael. I envisioned standing in the center of the death camp, surrounded by prisoners and tabloid photographers, and demanding that my father shut the place down. I'd even gone so far as to mention it to Kader once, but...my resolve had weakened.
The fact of the matter was, without Theo by my side, I was less inspired to be the man she thought I could be. The ever-present ache for her took root in whatever space had been reserved for my courage. Perhaps it was because, deep down, ending the war seemed too impossible even for my own optimistic outlook. And without the war ending, I could never be with her.
I told myself I was making amends here in the hospital, treating both the light-skinned and not-so-light skinned patients who showed up at the hospital. I made extra time for the children, asking about their parents, their health, their eating arrangements, and giving them a stern reminder to stay out of trouble. At the end of the day, I could say I'd done something.
The Complete Madion War Trilogy Page 20