by Elizabeth Lo
No, don’t feel disappointed, Midnight. Don’t. There’s nothing to be disappointed about.
But the room with the Stone is very close to the front doors, Sucre poses.
“That doesn’t mean you go in through the front door,” Lafayette says, his usual carefree smile coming back.
So what is your plan? Sucre asks, his ear twitching.
“Someone should distract Glorieux—trust me, she’s very easy to distract—while a separate group sneaks Midnight into the castle.”
“Makes sense,” Annabelle pipes up. “Then we need to decide who wants to poke the beast and who wants to wreck the beast’s lair.”
“Well… Who’s someone in this group that Glorieux really hates? Other than Midnight.” Lafayette asks, but we’re all already looking at Sucre.
All right, all right, Sucre grumbles. I’ll bait her.
“You can go with him,” Annabelle says to Lafayette.
He shakes his head.
“No. I’m sneaking her into the castle,” he says. “I know its layout pretty well.”
And his geography skills go unchallenged.
“So, what’s that guy for?” He points to Artemis.
“I’m here to help wherever I can.”
“Well, then you can stay here on standby, I suppose.”
Lafayette turns to his next victim.
“What’s your role?” he asks Annabelle, with the detachment of a chess master sorting out his pieces.
It’s like a switch was flipped in Lafayette, and now he’s viewing everything from a strategist’s standpoint, accounting for everyone’s goals, plan of action, and usefulness. Somehow, though, it makes me a little alienated to see this side of him. It was trained into him like he said, but it’s a side of him that I had completely skipped out on.
“I’m going to be the one to kill Mid,” Annabelle states unflinchingly.
His face is still relaxed, and there’s that ever-pleasant, close-lipped smile on it. I know better now. He hides it well, but not well enough.
“Oh,” he says, laughing a little. “You get to do the honors?”
“Yup.” Annabelle smiles too, but it looks forced.
“How about this,” Lafayette proposes, looking at them. “You and your boyfriend can go with the cat while I go with Mid.”
“What?” Annabelle says. “Why? How do you know Mid anyway?”
“We’re travel buddies,” Lafayette says, his smile growing just an extra millimeter.
“Midnight’s going to die at the hands of just a ‘travel buddy’?” Annabelle retorts.
Lafayette’s smile starts to look a little stretched.
“It’d be the same with you,” he comments. “In this situation, more is not merrier.”
Annabelle bristles.
“How do we know you won’t corrupt then? You’re cursed too, aren’t you? Plus, those disturbed people might still attack us. Don’t you need another fighter just in case?”
He sighs, but I can see him relent.
“Look, if you really want to tag along, you can. You could be a useful backup. But either way, I’m sticking with Midnight.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she says. “You’re that Lafayette guy, who couldn’t care about anything other than fulfilling his missions, right? The one who stepped over his own teammate’s bodies just to obtain his own goals.”
“Well, I’m glad you did your research,” Lafayette says, cutting her off before she can say any more. “But regardless of my history, that guy isn’t coming with me, and you still have to prove yourself useful. Wanting to help doesn’t equate helpfulness.”
You know, it won’t exactly be a walk in the park to bait Glorieux and live, Sucre comments. The boy’s not coming with me either.
“I guess I really am dead weight,” Artemis mutters from his place against the tree.
Annabelle and I both flinch at the dejected look on his face.
“That’s not true,” Annabelle inputs quickly. “You’re just… not useful here, that’s all.”
He shakes his head.
“No, no, I get it. You’re right,” he says. “I’ll just stay here. You guys can go do your brave hero thing. I’ll wait here…”
Annabelle bites her lip, and she’s twisted her hair so tightly around her finger that I’m starting to worry about her blood circulation. I’m sure Artemis must have complicated feelings about the Summer Palace. Here he is, in a place he might have lived in with his mother as our enemy.
Oh! Sucre says suddenly. I hadn’t told you beforehand—I had assumed we would enter the castle together—but since that’s not the case, I’ll tell you now. Since you have the means, Decompose or scratch off the face of the littler boy in the painting at the end of the hall. It’ll reveal a rune inscribed on a brick of the wall. Push it in, swing the painting open, and the stone door behind it should slide open. The rest… is up to you.
I nod, but the idea of the Stone sends shivers down my spine.
It’s amazing how little opposition Lafayette’s plan has received. From the start, we weren’t the best at planning, I guess, since he was the first and only person able to propose a doable infiltration plan that wasn’t just “prance right into the front doors.” Annabelle may not be too happy, but I suppose she sees the sense in it as well.
You sure you have it covered? Sucre turns his gaze to Lafayette.
Lafayette smiles his usual, but something about it worries me.
“Of course,” he says.
All right then. All of you should get some rest. We’ll go in an hour or so. I think… we all need time to gather our wits together.
I don’t miss how his eyes flick to me.
The old cat shuffles himself back into the forest to find the optimal arrangement of trees that can best accommodate his size, while Annabelle turns her attention back to Artemis, and they leave to have their own private talk. I’m left with only Lafayette and the rustle of the trees.
Lafayette sits back, his face relaxing from its tight smile. He runs a hand through his hair, but he doesn’t seem as upset as before. Instead, he seems to be lost in thought, his eyes absent-mindedly tracing the clouds.
After what feels like an hour, he looks at me again.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m sure.” How could I not be?
“You’re willing to give yourself up to save a bunch of people you don’t really know?”
“Well, I know you. And Black. And Glorieux. And… everyone’s lives have been negatively impacted by the curse. Glorieux… the root of the fire of Hanbury and the curse itself… well, you know how she’s been affected. Because of the curse, she killed the King… We don’t have a ruler anymore. And even you were affected by the curse outside of Glorieux. There’s no telling when Black will fully corrupt. And I mean, your soldiers went insane.”
“But so did I,” he says quietly to himself. Facing me again he continues. “But this isn’t about the reasons you should do it. I’m asking you about your actual reasons.”
I scrunch my hands, once again loosely placing them around my torso in a protective position.
“This… just leads back to my previous question,” I say, chuckling at him. “It’s because… Well, I mean… it’s because… It’s me versus everyone else. If the price to pay for saving a thousand people is just the life of one, wouldn’t you want to give it up too? I have a responsibility to do this, don’t you think?”
Lafayette goes quiet. He looks like he’s about to say more, but he shuts his mouth, looking away.
“About what Annabelle said,” I start. “What was she talking about?”
I expect him to hesitate again. Or instantly dodge the question like he does whenever I ask difficult questions. But he answers without batting an eye.
“Oh, that was from the war in Dvitreland. I enlisted when I was eighteen and was assigned to squadrons in charge of covert operations. Long story short, most of the squads I joined ended
up completely dead with the exception of me, but at the same time, we would usually, if not always, succeed with our missions. Some people celebrate me as a hero for pushing through the most successful covert missions in the entire war. Others… Well, others think like that redheaded girl over there.”
“Do you… feel responsible for them? Your squadrons.”
“Hmm… I think I did, at first. But after going through so many faces and groups, I think I eventually figured that it was better if I just focused on the missions. We were losing then—partly because of the curse, I think. When the war ended, nothing seemed to change. The world moved on, yet I was stuck. What’s a machine to do once its task is over?”
“I don’t think you’re a machine. You’re still a strange person, though.”
“You think?” he says, laughing. But the smile falls as quickly as it came. “Then… can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?” I lean forward trying to see his face.
“Do you think a person like me could learn to live again one day?”
I almost burst out laughing.
“Of course,” I say. “I daresay you might be doing it right now, you know.”
“Well yes, I know I’m living and breathing right now… But I’m talking about—”
“I know what you’re talking about,” I interrupt, smiling. “You’re making decisions without someone telling you to. Just a moment ago, you laughed, didn’t you? Maybe that’s not all there is to living… but it’s a part of it.”
“Well… rather naïve of you, but I’ll take it.”
I teasingly ruffle his hair.
“See? A change already. For you, I’m sure there’s still a way to break out of your loop.”
From here, I can see his cheek lift in a somber smile.
“But what about you?” he asks. “Have you broken out of your loop yet?”
I tilt my head.
“In a way. But I do at least hope you can break out of yours. Once and for all.”
“Yes…” He says, trailing off. “I just… wish there was another way. To break the curse.”
My mouth twists wistfully.
“Yeah. Me, too.”
But it’s okay. I can take all the blame now and die with it. I’ll bring all the blame and all the fault with me. Then… won’t he, Glorieux, and everyone will be free? Just like they want.
The trees rumble again as a fluffy pink mass moves among them.
A grumbly voice surges through all of our minds.
Let’s get started, shall we?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sucre
Sucre shivers as bitter wind slices through his fur. It’s been a while since he even left the perimeter of the Palace, but the warmth of Berningdale still sits in his pelt.
His own palace lays in partial ruin because of his miscalculation.
These humans were the ones to accept him, and even though he never admits it, he cares for them.
He even cared for Glorieux. When she cast that curse accidentally, and the rumbling began, he had tasted that pungent aroma of the “Rrel” rune and immediately jumped in to save her and the rest of them.
He realizes now that from the beginning the curse was one that would have destroyed Galviton no matter what—whether it be from immediate destruction or a long and painful death from the inside of people’s minds. It was a catastrophic enchantment put into place by a naïve user—something that even the evilest magicians back in the day wouldn’t have even dreamed of casting.
Sucre even knew that Glorieux couldn’t hold out for long. Three years with eight other souls in her body is impressive in and of itself, but he couldn’t bring himself to kill her in cold blood. He had assumed that the country would be fine. That the country would wait for him.
An entire city has been burned to smithereens. The Royal family has died or lost their mind. The military has fallen apart from the inside out, leaving Galviton defenseless from invaders. This seemingly arbitrary curse has ripped the entire country apart.
And yet, as it ran its course, he didn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything.
It’s his fault for being so ignorant.
It’s his fault for being so lazy.
But this is his chance to redeem himself.
She will not ruin the country he and Tiqi had worked so hard to build. She will not disrespect the dying cries of the headstrong people who died to make this little space of land an independent country. This country is Sucre’s country. When it’s suffering, he suffers.
It’s been 341 years of life and progress for this country. He had promised Tiqi a thousand years when they first created the country. And Sucre’s not one to break promises. He cannot let something as simple as a curse beat it down.
His eyes see in magic—the equivalent of Midnight having her eyes activated twenty-four-seven except with more colors than just fuchsia. Trees glow green, stone looks almost invisible to him, and humans are all an array of vibrant colors that swirl about them.
It’s how he can track almost anyone he wants to—just by smelling out their magic. But with Glorieux, her scent has become so unrecognizable that it threw him off when she first entered the Summer Palace that night to burn him alive. Even when he looks at her, the curse has made her so dark that it conceals her original magic completely.
The plan that that male human proposed wasn’t bad. But it means Sucre has to be a diversion of sorts, and Glorieux isn’t going to go down without a fight. Which only makes him shiver more. As he makes his landing in front of the gates of the castle, the skies seem duller and colder than ever before. The air tastes like death already.
She’s perched near the top of the Palace, away from the others, making his job easier. Although those bi-souled survivors might be magically volatile, Glorieux is the only one of them who can fly.
Swooping around her, he knows he caught her attention. Pushing himself through the skies, it takes him a moment to realize that she hasn’t followed him yet.
The hair on the back of his neck prickles and a low growl resonates in his throat. Time to poke the beast a second time…
But the moment he turns back around to taunt her, she stands up and jumps off the roof of the castle, picking up speed in his direction. He struggles to make another one-eighty with his clumsy body, cursing the skies.
In a blink, she appears just inches from his face, one hand outstretched to hold him in place and the other hand poised to burn him.
Her magic power is comparable to his now, if not stronger. Though, of course, due to breaking the first half of the curse two years ago, he still isn’t at his one hundred percent.
Resolve flows over him, and his tail lashes violently in the air—turning him and satisfyingly making contact with the soft stomach of his opponent.
He twists his body in the air, gliding out like an otter, briefly escaping her grasp.
But in the air, he’s a large passenger plane, while Glorieux is a compact fighter jet. She throws fiery punches at him, Telekinetically tries to hinder his movements, and slowly scorches his pelt off. Pushing his engines as hard as he can and propelling himself forward as fast as possible, he’ll just have to rely on being able to keep up this speed while taking all the hits.
Glorieux comes from the right, and a needle-like fist knocks his breath out. He drifts to the side, his mouth agape for an entire second.
A growl rumbles in his throat.
Do you not even have any sort of conscience anymore? He hisses.
She doesn’t listen.
Another fist slams into his ribs.
He moves his paws, causing his balance to falter, but it’s enough to bat her away momentarily.
A fist for a paw. A kick for another paw.
He flounders in the air. Every time he tries to bite at her, she moves just out of his reach. When he tries to kick her with his hind legs, she grabs his fur and sends plumes of fire up his haunches.
He manages to push through the air, just high enoug
h to free himself from her onslaughts.
She’s beyond saving, he concludes. Yes, if the price for fixing this whole ordeal is losing Midnight Thunder and Glorieux Frost, he’s willing to pay it.
“Sucre,” Glorieux yells behind him. “You won’t stop me! YOU WON’T CHAIN ME AGAIN!”
Woman, he growls at her. You’ve brought this upon yourself.
“Ha! I did? What about you? Don’t deny the hand you played in all of it.”
Who am I even talking to? He hisses, his fur still standing up.
“Does it matter?” she snarls back.
Yes, it does matter, because only Glorieux can tell me what she was going through.
“HELL, THAT’S WHAT!” she yells. “Chains, chains, chains, everywhere! It’s not like you understand—you, who’s never been chained up in your entire life, just pampered and lavished with no one caring what you did!”
What do you know? I’ve walked alongside the country its entire life. I’ve regulated its magic for years keeping the entire place prosperous and magically sufficient. Through thick and thin, I’ve been here watching generation after generation pass. In comparison, what did you do?
Now he’s angry. So angry, he doesn’t consider the words that just flowed out of his mind. He swivels around, finding his opportunity, and ferociously smacks her down from the air with his paw. She falls fast but not far, stopping herself with sheer fire and Telekinetic ability, her entire face exploding with rage.
“So?!” she screams. “Does that make you better than me? You did what you did because you wanted to! But every day, I suffered through my monotonous world of being nothing but a trophy on display, or forced to toil away working on things I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about! I’m sick of it! I’m sick of this world, I’m sick of myself… I’m sick of being sick of everything!”
Trust me, he hisses. You’re only making everything sicker and sicker to look at. I understand you’re angry. But this is no way to let it out. You must control yourself.
“Every morning,” she says, tears now pouring out of her still disoriented eyes, “I woke up facing the day, knowing I would forget it. Every morning, I wondered what would happen if I just didn’t wake up. If I just slept forever. I hated every day with every fiber of my being. I WOKE UP JUST TO WASTE ANOTHER DAY OF MY LIFE. You can’t look at me and tell me you understand me! As if it’s so easy not to be angry!”