by Rowan Rook
Rickard seethed, swimming through her racing thoughts in search of an argument. "It was unnecessary—"
"Aw." Aydel made a face, her smile wider than ever. "You do care about your student, don't you? Your Amaranth. Too bad he's gone now. I've got my brother back. He's mine."
Rickard scoffed, but this time, no words would come. A face rose in her memories—the face of a young Lyrum on the Academy's front steps, his big brown eyes so full of hope and wonder and need, so ready to fall into the grip of the first hand held out for him. Her heart squeezed tighter. Aydel was wrong. That wasn't...he wasn't...
"Or maybe it's about your daughter? Maybe you don't care about her as much as whatever scheme is laid out in that head of yours. She was your voice in his ear, wasn't she?" Aydel stepped closer. "If I didn't know better, I'd say your reliance on her—and the insolence you show your fellow Overseer—suggests you might be up to no good. I'd almost wonder if you mean to keep your promises to your Human pet, after all? Maybe you're the threat here—a threat to my division. A traitor."
Rickard's heart tried and failed to pump. "Don't be foolish. What could I possibly have to gain from—"
Aydel closed the rest of the distance between them with the confidence of a predator cornering prey. Lord, Rickard hated that smug face, so unaware of her own foolishness, her over reliance on her fickle feelings. It looked so much like Amaranth's that it had made it hard to look at even him sometimes. She had been glad when Aydel started wearing the mask. She'd hoped her fellow Overseer would wear it longer.
"Oh," Aydel accused in that sing-song voice of hers, "I'd say you have plenty to gain. After all, we have a whole new world on the line."
Rickard glowered down Aydel, holding her ground. Her gaze got lost in Aydel's darker shade of green—a forest with shadows she couldn't penetrate.
"Then perhaps..." Rickard reminded herself to breathe, to hold in the spark she so desperately wanted to release. It would be so satisfying to watch it raze through Aydel. "Perhaps our distrust is mutual. I won't let you ruin my life's work. I'll save Auratessa."
Aydel grinned wider than ever. "At least we agree on one thing, then. I won't let you get away with whatever it is you're planning. I'll save my Auratessa."
The two Overseers stared in silence.
Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ
Anson watched wispy tendrils of smoke snake through the cabin. Despite the window, the cigar still tainted the room with its awful smell. The stink was too close to ash, to fire, but there wasn't enough of anything left in him to care. Instead, he only lay there as the minutes stretched by, listening to Jeriko's breaths and the throbbing tide. Both his body and mind craved the comforting abyss of sleep. His eyes closed. He'd nearly fallen into the black when the sound of the door creaking open pulled him back.
His heart skipped a beat. Shakaya? He spun to look.
His sister stood by the doorway. She no longer wore the winged mask—she no longer needed to. Her spiteful smile remained, but her cheeks were red and raw.
Anson surged up on his palms. "Delly, why?" He still didn't understand. If she'd gone to such lengths to keep her identity a secret, then why would she have suddenly chosen to throw that all away? "Why did you have to do this? Why like that, in front of everyone?"
Aydel answered as if it were obvious, "I saw you and that Human yesterday. You both seemed happy."
Fury boiled in Anson's stomach. His muscles ached, urging him to rise up off that bed. To rip that satisfied smile off the ghost of his sister. To hold her down and let her see how it felt while she lost control of her world. To scream at her until she took back the things she'd said. To...
He swallowed the venom. "You did this all out of petty spite?" When had his once proud sister become so shallow?
Aydel flushed, as if reading his thoughts. "What else was I supposed to do? You destroyed our family with your attempts at Humanity. How was I supposed to feel when I saw you with that Human? With her, of all people? You know who she is! You know the Johanne name! You, with a killer of our kin. With that false name of yours. You're a traitor to our people. It was sick. Pathetic."
His fury burned holes inside him, hollowing him out. The taste of ashes welled on his tongue. She was right about one thing: He had been happy. As selfish as it was, he'd been happy. And now, he might never be happy again. There wasn't enough time left.
Aydel sighed, exhaling some of her anger. "I wanted it to hurt. I wanted to see you cry. I couldn't watch you try to be Human anymore." Her eyes softened. "But now that it's done, we can start anew. You have us. You have your purpose. You can be my brother again. Anson Anwell. Not some Human you made up."
Anson didn't say anything. He closed his eyes, not able to look at her.
Her warmth dispersed with an incredulous snort. "After everything... After knowing what you know now, you're still lovesick. You still grieve for something you never really had, that you never really were. Did you really think she'd never find out?"
"Ten years, and she hadn't. I was careful. She never had to know. Especially if..." Especially if his and the Butterfly's own plans came to pass. Especially if, in the end, she wouldn't even remember him. "Hell, she was working with the Butterfly. We could have stayed together. Everything could have stayed the same, until the end."
Aydel closed in on him. "You would rather pretend to be Human beside a false lover? You would rather die like that than beside your family, your sister, as who you really are? Why, Anny?" Her voice broke, "I'm the one who should be asking that question. Why? None of this had to happen. Even if Lyn was gone, you could have had me and Mom and Dad. You could have had eternity with us and Lyn in Heaven. We could still be happy in Riksharre, living out our last months with families of our own, with children to succeed us. One of us may have even become a Councilor in our father's legacy. You took all of that away. Why was that never enough for you? Why did you have to try to be Human?"
Anson didn't answer for a while. He looked away, toward the window, but barely saw the glass. The invisible threads that were tangled up inside him, stitched over old wounds, pulled him inward. "It...was never about being a Lyrum or being Human. It was about simply being who I was. It was about doing what I could to help my sister. It's not my fault that Riksharre couldn't accept that. It's not my fault!" His nails dug into his palms. "I wanted to save Lyn! I could've! I'm still trying to save everyone. That's all I've ever tried to do. Because inside, we are all the same. It's this world that has it wrong!"
Perhaps that awareness made his behavior in the labs—and the bullets he'd fired—even more despicable, but in the end, the world he wanted to create was one that was better for everyone, Humans and Lyrum alike. He'd seen the worst of both, so he knew more than anyone how much the two species were alike.
Aydel scoffed, "Do you really believe that, Anny? Do you really believe you were ever one of them? She stayed with you, she protected you, because her Overseer told her to. She was doing her fucking job!" Her eyes seethed with emerald acid. "Now it's time you do yours."
On the other side of the window, the waves swelled higher, as if the ocean itself were taking a deep breath.
"The only one you've ever tried to save is yourself, but stay with us, and you might still do what you say you've always wanted. You might even finally save Lyn." Some of his sister's warmth returned. It was familiar, he thought, the way she could switch from winter to summer in a matter of seconds. "Please, Anny. Help us. Help me."
He stared at the sheets. She didn't understand. He swallowed down the hurt, the frustration he'd harbored since childhood. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe it didn't matter. Either way, they both shared the same goal. "I will," he assured. "I want this, too."
"I want this, too," Shakaya said, the tear on her cheek catching the light.
Anson blinked water away from his eyes.
"I suppose that's all that matters, then." Aydel finally looked away.
A silence stretched between them. They may have reached an agreement, bu
t it hadn't healed anything. Anson closed his eyes. He should have been ecstatic that one of his sisters was still alive—that he wasn't the only Anwell to survive the fire. But every time he heard the enmity and disgust spilling from her voice, any sense of joy was stripped away. In its place was only remorse. She wasn't his long lost sister. She was a bitter ghost who'd come back to haunt him.
Still... Living out their last months in Riksharre, with families of their own to survive them. The wishes Aydel had spoken of were simple ones—their impossibility wasn't fair. If he was going to die alone, she would pass just as hollowly. And for that, he was sorry, but no amount of apologizing in the world would change it. He looked at her and forced a smile. "Even if... Everything else aside, I really am glad to see that you survived, Delly." That, at least, was true. "If I'd known... If only I'd known..."
Aydel's face softened, but only for an instant. "I knew. I knew you were alive, but I didn't want to face you. I chose to join the Butterfly instead." She hesitated. "Do you know why I survived?"
Anson let the silence answer for him. He didn't. When he'd....when he'd watched the house burn, the screams had blurred together. He'd simply assumed that Aydel was inside, as well. Why wouldn't she have been? Dread churned the meager contents of his stomach.
His sister's lips moved slowly, as if savoring the taste of her words. It was a habit she'd used to intimidate even as a young girl. "I was the one who reported you."
His heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he felt as though he hadn't understood. He couldn't have. "What?"
"I was the one who reported your acts of heresy to the Council." Aydel crossed her arms across her chest, so tightly her fingernails dug into her skin. "I told Mother and Father about you first. They knew, but they refused to do anything. I had no other choice left. I couldn't stand it any longer. I waited for an evening when Father wasn't at the Council and snuck out before dinner. Because I was the one who went forward, the rest of the Council secretly spared me. I wasn't there when they set the house on fire."
Anson's mouth hung open. Any warmth he'd held toward her, any civility, died. "Aydel, you...!" It...couldn't be. "You...!"
He'd trusted her. He'd trusted her to care about Lyn as he had, and just as he'd believed in her, he'd trusted her to believe in him.
"How could you?" His voice barely made it through his tight throat before it all at once ripped free, "How could you? You betrayed Lyn and I both! You condemned the entire family!" He'd never known who had reported his heresy. It had been the missing piece of the puzzle that destroyed the Anwells. "You swore you wouldn't say anything! If you hadn't gone to the Council we could've had everything you wanted, Delly! You know I never wanted to hurt anyone, but you must have! What else did you think the Council was going to do?" Everything inside him boiled like lava, churning like it was about to erupt from his mouth, about to blow him apart from the inside out. "How can you blame me, when you—"
"I did what I had to as a citizen of Riksharre. I didn't know what they were going to do! I didn't know they were going to set the whole damn house on fire!" She leaned in closer, her breath hot on his face. "But none of it was my decision to make. The Council took the action it felt was appropriate based upon your behavior. The entire family was tainted. I was only spared because I did the right thing by coming forward." Sorrow spilled into her spiteful eyes. "You forced Lyn into heresy, too! You ruined her! How dare you try to blame this on me!"
"She wanted my help!" Anson's palms squeezed tighter, blood welling beneath his nails. "You know that as well as I do!"
"She was scared, Anny. She wasn't strong enough to say no!" Aydel's own fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "She trusted you and your fake hope! She trusted you..."
Anson looked away. She had. Aydel wasn't the only one who'd broken promises. "I was foolish! I failed. I know that, but..." But he'd had only good intentions. He'd...never...
Aydel's eyes glistened with tears. "I was afraid that both you and Lyn would be condemned to Hell! You wanted to save her. I wanted to save you both. Maybe by forcing you to suffer your punishments in this life, I did." She searched for his gaze. "That's what the Council told me. They said the whole family was damned by your heresy, but if you paid for your sins with blood, if you were cleansed by fire, then you'd still be able to go to Heaven. They said it was the only way."
Anson's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. What could he say? Her tone suggested her words were genuine, but they were also mad, in a different way than his had ever been.
"You were the sinner, not me!" Aydel spat.
"Lord, you're both fucking losing it!"
The siblings startled at Jeriko's voice. Amidst the fire and ice, they'd nearly forgotten the Human was there. Anson flushed, looking at the floor. What a show they'd put on.
"Watching you two fight would change the mind of anyone who believes Lyrum live only on instinct. Emotionless, my ass," Jeriko stifled a strained chuckle. "That's enough now, don't you think? You both said what you had to." He rubbed out his cigar. "For what it's worth, I'd call you both idiots. You meant well in your own ways, but failed to grasp what the consequences might be. You were simply children."
The siblings were silent.
"But!" Jeriko moved to the next topic, as if oblivious to the tension tainting the air. "We have a more present matter to attend to. Getting the Inkwells from the Monarchy won't be an easy task. In fact, it'll be downright suicidal if we don't think this over." He looked at Anson. "We had decided over dinner that Tayla and I were to accompany you and Ms. Johanne to Velvire but...now I fear we're a bit shorthanded." His pointed stare shifted to Aydel.
"I will be traveling in her place, of course. I would not have created a mess I didn't intend to clean." A smirk returned to Aydel's face. "I am much more competent. This is for the best."
Anson tightened with a twinge of irritation. "Shakaya is good at what she does."
"Yes, she is a skilled killer. She is not, however, a skilled soldier. They are not the same thing."
Anson said nothing else. It would do no good. Aydel had always been the unfortunate combination of stubborn and arrogant. His quivering fingers crinkled the sheets. This meant he was going to have to endure working with her for who knew how long. Quite possibly for the rest of their lives.
Jeriko raised an eyebrow, as if having the same doubts, but didn't object. "Then all we have left to do is prepare. The ship is nearing the dock as we speak." He walked over to the cabin's closet and tossed the bag hanging from the doorknob toward Anson's bed. It landed with a creak of the mattress springs.
Anson instinctively pulled it closer. There was something comforting about its familiar weight...even if he would likely never wear the Academy uniform packed inside again.
Jeriko yanked open the closet doors.
Anson gaped, in spite of himself. He'd never bothered to check inside, but stacked behind the unassuming doors were rows of supplies and guns. He could only wonder how the Butterflies had managed to sneak it all aboard.
Jeriko pulled a rifle off the rack and slung it over his shoulder, before choosing another and tossing it toward the bed. "Take that one. It's much more powerful than that toy you've been using."
"It's a Human weapon..." Anson observed, unsure.
This time, Jeriko didn't hold back his laughter. "That didn't stop you from blowing holes through the heads of two Councilors."
But he'd been Amaranth, then. In a way, he had been Human.
...He truly was a hypocrite, wasn't he? A simple weapon was nothing compared to the Human treatments he'd performed as a child. He picked up the gun—much larger and heavier than any he'd used before—before his sister could make any such comment.
The ship's horn roared.
Anson spared a final glance around the cabin. At the sister he'd thought lost. At the man he barely knew. Without Shakaya, this mad endeavour felt strangely empty, but at least he wasn't alone. He would stay with the Butterflies, and with his sis
ter, for as long as his heart still beat. His goal remained even without his resolve. It wasn't the same, but it was all he had.
One journey had ended, and another was about to begin.
Chapter Eighteen: Arrival
Shakaya raced through the corridor. Her footsteps pierced the hustle and bustle of passengers preparing to disembark, echoing like drum beats on the metal floor.
When she reached the far end of the passenger hall—where most Butterflies stayed—she banged unlocked doors open as she went, stealing glances into rooms before hurrying away. She paused and listened at each locked door, identifying the voices behind it before moving on. She ignored the stares—most passengers were too busy to pay her much notice.
Rickard had to be there. She had to be! There was no way in Hell she hadn't boarded the ship with the others. Everything was building toward the climax she'd wanted for so long. She wouldn't have missed this for the world.
She stopped in front of another locked door, leaning in close to listen.
"Hurry up. We need to beat the crowd. We don't want too many people recognizing us and causing trouble."
"Just give me a few moments to gather my balance and belongings! Have some patience, will you?"
"Jeriko, carry him."
"What? No! I—"
"Calm down, Del. It's not like the ship will be taking off again anytime soon, and your audience was more afraid than anything. Let's wait for Tayla before we leave."
Shakaya's heart panged. She was listening to the Anwells and Jeriko. That's right; she hadn't noticed in her haste, but this was definitely the Editor's room. She spun on her heel. Rickard wasn't there.
Throughout the rest of the corridor, she didn't find her.
The soldier paused when she reached the stairwell leading to the captain's quarters. Could there be other rooms up there? Perhaps it was foolish to assume that Rickard, of all people, would dwell among the rest of them. After all, the Overseer surely had enough Rune to buy whatever suite she wished, and she certainly wouldn't have wanted to encounter the Editor during the crossing. She would've wanted secrets to stay secrets.