by M. K. Easley
They arrived at the gathering place and Tristan shed her jacket, already sweating, instead opting for an umbrella that Umbris held out to her. The five of them walked to and boarded the small boat to the island, thankfully alone. Tristan didn’t know where any of the Crenshaws were, and didn’t care. Evander nudged her as they made the short jaunt across the river, his voice low, though it was raining so hard and so loudly that Tristan had to strain to hear him over the heavy drops pelting her hood.
“You OK?”
“Fine,” Tristan replied, her voice tight.
“Liar.”
Tristan gave him a withering look.
“For what it’s worth, he’s suffering, too.”
“I don’t care.”
“Liar.”
“Do you have an actual point or do you just want to make me feel worse?” Tristan’s voice was full of venom.
Evander looked taken aback, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he spoke again.
“I was trying to make you feel better. I didn’t want you to think this is easy for him, either.”
“I don’t really need to think about how this is for him,” Tristan replied. Her voice softened as she added, “But thanks anyway.”
Evander nodded, and Tristan looked at Olivia, who had been watching them with a rueful expression. Olivia said nothing, just gave Tristan a small, sad smile, and Tristan looked away. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to continue being left alone, or discuss what was going on in her head with her family -- the former left a pit in her stomach that was edged by an anxiety she couldn’t quite understand, and the latter filled her with a peculiar anger that she also couldn’t quite understand.
The Wallaces stepped off of the boat, and it made its way back across the river as they trudged through the mud toward the gathering. Several minutes into their walk, Tristan, who was the caboose of the group, suddenly got the strangest feeling. She looked around the pitch black island, seeing nothing out of the ordinary -- nothing at all, actually, since it was so dark and the rain obscured the landscape almost entirely -- but her scalp prickled all the same.
“Oceana.” Tristan tapped Olivia on the shoulder, and Olivia turned. “Are you picking up on any weird vibes right now?”
Olivia stilled, listening, waiting, but after a few beats she shook her head.
“No. Why, are you?”
Tristan made a quick decision, knowing Olivia was currently worried enough about her. She shook her head.
“No. I thought I heard something, but I haven’t heard it since.”
Olivia nodded and resumed walking, and Tristan followed her, though she looked back over her shoulder a couple of times, bothered. This feeling she had was different than anything she’d felt before -- she didn’t think it was related to Orion this time, since it didn’t seem malevolent in any way, but she couldn’t hone in on it to figure out where it was coming from and why. As they neared the entrance to the clearing, Tristan was quickly distracted by the sight of Celes waiting for her and her family. Seeing him made her stomach flip unpleasantly, and Tristan realized that they were now only a month from her decision. One month until she’d find out if, somehow, her premonition would come to fruition, or if she’d go through with her anticipated plan of deflection. That she didn’t have a stomach ulcer the size of Louisiana by now was a true miracle.
“Trinity.” Celes nodded in her direction, but otherwise didn’t engage with her, and Tristan nodded back at him, relieved.
Tristan followed her family into the clearing, passing by the members who dutifully swept their hands over the Wallaces to dry their clothes and skin. She looked around as they mingled, not really paying attention to the goings-on around her; despite her best efforts, Tristan found herself wondering what Beckett was up to. The temptation to drop in on him psychically was so great that Tristan had to clench her jaw to stop herself -- it would do her no good to keep up this kind of torture, and the sooner she could convince herself of that, the better. Beckett's continued silence told her everything she needed to know anyway.
The C names had just been called for their infusions when there was a sudden, loud commotion at the entrance of the clearing. Someone -- someones, actually, were yelling, and Tristan frowned, wondering what was going on now. Had Orion, despite Sol’s clear warnings, accosted Ember anyway so he could show him what he could do?
Tristan started towards the noise, and had just reached the growing throng of onlookers when Olivia, from several people ahead of Tristan, turned around. The look of terror on her face was so complete that it took Tristan’s breath away. At the very same moment, a different voice yelled, a voice Tristan would know anywhere, and her blood ran cold.
Tristan grabbed onto the person beside her, swaying on her feet. This could not be happening. She had to be dreaming. The person looked at her, irritated, and she let go, pinching herself hard and grimacing at the sensation. Getting her bearings, Tristan forced her way to Olivia, who pushed her ahead, through the people at the front of the line. Tristan stumbled out of the crowd and onto a scene so horrific that her brain kept jamming up trying to process it. Panic swelled like an ocean within her, and so did an overwhelming nausea. How? Her brain demanded. How? How was this possible?
Entros and three of his minions had a struggling Beckett in a stronghold. He was soaked, muddy, bruised and bloodied, and his right shoulder in particular was spilling blood at an alarming rate from a deep, wide wound. He looked up, noticing Tristan with his one non-swollen eye, but all she could do was stare and try not to collapse into a dead faint.
“Tristan! Let me go, you stupid assholes!” Beckett jerked his body, blanching at the pain that must have rocketed through his shoulder.
“Beckett!”
His voice roused her, and Tristan ran towards him, but she was swiftly intercepted by another guard.
“Let me go!” Tristan screamed, thrashing wildly against the guard who might as well have been hewn from the side of a mountain for all he moved.
“Tristan!” Beckett yelled, and Tristan shook her head furiously, wanting him to stop fighting the guards, to stop aggravating his shoulder wound.
“What is going on?” Orion suddenly stepped into the clearing beside Tristan, looking at the guard who held her. “Lutu, I demand you unhand Trinity at once.”
Lutu dropped Tristan like a hot potato, scowling at her as he rubbed his forearm where Tristan had dug in her fingernails as hard as possible, puncturing his skin through his cloak. Tristan ran over to Beckett, her hands shaking as she pushed his wet hair out of his face.
“Beckett,” Tristan whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Beckett, what are you doing here?”
“I followed you. Not my best idea,” Beckett replied, sounding tired, and Tristan noticed how pale he was beneath the dirt and bruising.
“No,” Tristan said softly. “Oh, no. Oh, Beckett…”
“Entros, explain.” Orion’s voice was calm, commanding, and Tristan looked at Entros with hate in her eyes as he stepped forward.
“We caught this commoner not far from here. It appears as though he came in via the west bank, which was unfortunately left unguarded for a few minutes earlier this evening.” Entros’s jaw briefly clenched as he looked over at one of his guards. “We wouldn’t normally have brought him here, we would have dealt with him the way we usually deal with commoners, but he insisted he knew someone named Tristan Wallace and that she was here, in danger. We were concerned another commoner had entered the gathering undetected.”
Tristan frowned. What was Entros talking about? It had just been a few months ago that he’d caught her and Celes and had to answer to Umbris -- surely Entros would have connected the last name Wallace, if he didn't remember hearing Beckett say her common name when he’d grabbed her by the shoulders? Had he brought Beckett here on purpose? If so, why? Almost imperceptibly, Entros’s eyes flickered to Tristan, and then right back to Orion, who was carefully surveying Beckett.
Trista
n moved her body in front of Beckett's, shielding him, and from the corner of her eye she saw her family and the Crenshaws push to the front of the congregation, coming to a standstill as the guards halted them. In silence they took in the scene before them, which was yet another eerie reflection of Tristan's premonition. The rest of the community was whispering and murmuring amongst themselves, but Tristan could not process any specific words. Beckett let out a low moan, and Tristan looked back at him in a panic that was choking her as he swayed on his feet, his eyelids drooping. His shoulder was still bleeding steadily, the right half of what was his white Henley stained almost black, almost down to his wrist, and up close Tristan could tell his injury was more serious than it had originally looked.
“Entros, when you were given your position, were you also given complete power to make such a crucial call as this?” Orion asked, his tone mild, and dread dropped into Tristan’s stomach.
Entros looked surprised by the question.
“Forgive me, Elder Orion, but I do not believe anyone is given complete power besides the Elders.”
“Correct. And so do you feel you made the right call here? Or do you think, perhaps, you should have called for a consult with the Elders down by the west bank before you marched this commoner into the very clearing to which he should never have been granted access?”
Silence fell.
“I believed I was making the right call,” Entros said finally, and Tristan shook her head.
“I see. Well, I'm sorry to say you believed wrong.” Orion lifted his hand, and Entros let out one strangled cry before he slumped to the ground, dead.
“No!” Tristan shrieked, whirling around to face Orion. “No! What have you done?”
“Oh my God,” Beckett said from behind her. “Oh my God. Is he dead? Did he just--"
There was the sound of vomit hitting the ground, and Tristan turned to Beckett, putting a shaking hand on his back as he expelled the contents of his stomach, groaning in agony as he tried to straighten back up. He stumbled sideways, and the guards roughly righted him, their faces masks of disgust. Tristan glared at them.
“OK. It's OK. You're going to be OK.” Tristan was trying not to lose it, but she couldn't stop looking at Entros, at Beckett, at the havoc wreaked already, all because she had refused to tell Beckett the truth.
“Take the commoner up front to be executed.” Orion ignored Tristan, ordering the shellshocked guards instead.
“No! No, stop, please! Don't do this!” Tristan threw herself in front of Beckett, whose forehead touched her back as she shielded him from Orion. The guards, probably still too shocked to move, stayed put, and Tristan had the sickening realization that her first premonition had come true, which meant the second one...
“Orion, this is not necessary.” Umbris stepped up, distracting Tristan from her distress, and Orion turned his disdainful gaze on him.
Celes, Celes heard Oceana in his mind, and he turned his head slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eye. I can't go into detail right now, there isn't time, but I need you to manipulate Orion’s reality so we can get Beckett and Trinity out of here.
Oceana, no. You can't ask me to get involved in this. I can't--
Celes, Trinity is about to make a deal with the devil that will end one way, and that is in her execution. Please, there isn't time to explain now how I know this, but I promise I will when I can. Please, Celes.
Even if I could, which I don't think I can, Orion is too powerful. He'd know immediately.
Please try. If you could just make it seem like they're taking Beckett away, that's all we need. Evander is ready to run him back to where the car is parked, and I'll do anything that's needed to get them out of here safely too.
Celes looked at Oceana with uncertainty for a few long moments, and Oceana felt like she was going to explode. If Celes refused, it was over for Tristan. If he refused, Oceana would never forgive him as long as she lived. Finally, he nodded.
I'll try.
“Is that your call to make, Umbris?” Orion asked, unbothered. His fellow Elders finally appeared behind him, taking in the scene with mixed expressions. Bayle Vencroft, Tristan noticed immediately, looked deeply troubled, and exchanged an unreadable look with Axis Daddona.
“I'm asking you to please reconsider. This commoner is harmless; he knows nothing about us, and I assure you even still he has no idea what he's come across tonight. He saved Trinity’s life in December, and we are indebted to him for that.”
“You know the rules,” Orion replied in a clipped voice. “Exceptions are rare and, as far as I'm concerned, should be done away with altogether.”
“Of course you'd feel that way,” Tristan spat, her eyes burning as she looked at Orion. Her gaze moved to the Elders behind him. “And what of your silence? What of the rule that no decisions are made by one, only by all? You've stood by while he carelessly and needlessly took one life tonight, will you do it again?”
“How dare you address your Elders in such a manner.” Orion stepped towards Tristan, but instead of looking angry, he looked utterly delighted. What a lunatic.
“Orion.” Bayle stepped forward next. “Trinity is correct. This is not how we are supposed to operate.”
“We were having a meeting up at the other end of the clearing,” Bayle continued, looking at Tristan and then at the rest of the community. “We didn't hear everything going on right away, but we came as soon as we were notified.”
“And you will step in now, that's what you think?” Orion turned on Bayle, and Tristan turned back to Beckett.
“We're going to get you out of here. I'm not going to let anything else happen to you,” Tristan said in a low voice, but Beckett seemed dazed and sluggish. She took his face in her hands and forced his eyes to hers, speaking firmly but still quietly. “Beckett. I know you're hurt. I know you've lost a lot of blood, but I need you to stay with me, OK? Just try to stay with me.”
“I'm always with you, beautiful. Wild horses couldn't drag me away.”
Tristan let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and she pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.
“I'm so sorry for everything.”
“I'm sorry too. What the hell is going on? Who are these people?”
“Let him go,” Umbris addressed the guards, who looked uncertain. “He's harmless. He's injured. You know he won't go anywhere and if he tries he won't get far.”
Maybe it was their loyalty to Entros, or maybe it was something Tristan would never be privy to that made them do it, but the guards released Beckett, and he staggered towards Tristan, who caught him, holding him, careful not to touch his shoulder.
“I love you. I love you, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you out of here,” Tristan whispered, as Beckett held her with his one good arm.
“Yes, I'm going to step in now that you've killed our head guard,” Bayle was saying to Orion, his fury evident on his face. “We all are.”
Orion smiled coldly. “Wrong.”
Bayle lifted his hand, but before he could do anything, Orion, with a twitch of his head, encased the Elder committee in a dome of watery blue light. They could do nothing, not even protest, as whatever the orb was made of had seemed to stop time for all of them, suspending them, frozen, like spectres of themselves.
“What the fuck? Tristan, what the fuck is going on?” Beckett looked terrified, and Tristan could only shake her head, more scared than she'd ever been. Orion had gone rogue and he was mad with power; there was no stopping him now.
“Orion.” Umbris got Orion’s attention once again, though his voice sounded less than sure, which made Tristan's knees shake. “I'm asking you again, just let this boy go and I'll wipe his memory myself. I'll make sure he remembers nothing about any of this, and I'll plant a false memory to explain his injuries.”
“You're making a lot of effort for the boy who is the reason your daughter will reject the community next month, Umbris.”
Gasps ricocheted through the crowd, and Trista
n once again felt like she was going to faint as all eyes were suddenly on her -- the ones that remained, anyway, since a large portion of the community, in the melee, had made the wise decision to flee. She helplessly took in the shock and hurt on Umbris’s face, the regret on Olivia and Evander’s, and, worst of all, the betrayal on Celes, Dune, and Thera’s. It was then Tristan realized Sol had disappeared.
“He's not the reason.” Tristan steadied Beckett before she let him go and stepped forward, lifting her chin. She had to get through this, get Beckett through this alive, and then she'd make amends. “My decision was made long before he came into the picture. Let him go. He means nothing to you. I know it's me you've been after.”
“Indeed.” Orion eyed Tristan. “But he means everything to you, and that makes him valuable to me.”
Celes, Oceana urged, but Celes was still staring at Tristan. Celes! I know you're blindsided, OK, but please focus. We're running out of time!
Celes slowly turned his head to look at Oceana, an incredulous expression on his face. You think I'm going to help them now?
Yes, Oceana said fiercely. I do. Because you're a good person, and you care about Trinity, and you wouldn't let your ego cost someone his life.