by Rachel Aaron
He was still telling himself that, working up the courage to pick up his phone again and make another try at reading Bob’s messages, when a cold hand landed on his shoulder.
Julius jumped up with a yelp, almost knocking the recliner backward as he leaped to his feet and spun around to find Chelsie standing right behind him.
“Don’t do that!”
“Sorry,” she said, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “I made a noise.”
“Would it kill you to say something?” Julius gasped, clutching his pounding chest as he sank back down into the chair. “What are you even doing here? You’re supposed to be free.”
Instead of answering, Chelsie turned to grab a folding chair out of the pile of junk in the corner, shaking it open and setting it down in front of him. “I couldn’t leave yet,” she said as she sat down. “When I jumped off that balcony, I left something behind.”
Julius frowned. “You mean your sword?” If that was her problem, it was an easy fix. Chelsie’s Fang was still lying right where she’d dropped it, on the balcony upstairs. But his sister was shaking her head.
“I’m never touching that thing again. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think it would let me. All the Fangs of the Heartstriker serve a purpose. For mine, the Defender’s Blade, that’s the defense of the clan. With the exception of you and the Fs, though, I can’t think of a single Heartstriker I’d lift a finger to save if they were dying in front of me, so I don’t think the Defender’s Fang will be welcoming me back anytime soon.”
“Glad to know I’m in the ‘wouldn’t let die’ category,” Julius said with a nervous smile. “But if you’re not talking about your Fang, then what—”
“My egg,” Chelsie growled, her green eyes flashing dangerously in the dark. “It was in my room this morning, and now it’s gone. Normally, I’d blame Bethesda, but this was one secret I did manage to keep from Mother. You, Fredrick, and Bob were the only ones who knew.”
“I didn’t take it,” Julius said frantically. “I’d never—”
“I know,” she said. “Fredrick wouldn’t either. Even if he would touch it without my permission, he hasn’t had a chance. He’s been out flying with his brothers and sisters from the moment you broke Bethesda’s seal and set them free.”
Even with all the tragedies, that was enough to make Julius smile. Good for Fredrick. He and the other Fs deserved some joy after everything they’d been through. But if Fredrick hadn’t touched Chelsie’s egg, and Julius hadn’t either, that left only one suspect. “You think Bob took your egg?”
“There’s no one else,” Chelsie said bitterly. “And it wouldn’t be the worst thing he’s done today.”
Julius dropped his eyes as the crushing sadness came back with a vengeance. “You’ve heard about Amelia.”
Chelsie nodded, and Julius took a deep breath. “Do you…do you know why? You knew Bob better than most. Can you explain what could have motivated him to do something like this? I thought Amelia was his favorite sister.”
“She was more than that,” Chelsie said, leaning back on the chair as she searched for the words. “Amelia’s looked out for Bob since the very beginning. He was the runt of his clutch, just like you. Before his visions started, Bethesda had already written him off. She would have eaten him if Amelia hadn’t gotten there first. She stole Bob and ran away, which was the only reason he lived long enough to discover he was a seer. Bethesda welcomed him back with open arms after that, but for the first few decades of his life, Amelia raised him.”
“That only makes everything even sadder,” he said. “You make it sound like she was practically a mother to him.”
“She was in every way that mattered,” Chelsie said with a shrug. “She was the one who raised and protected him. She even taught him magic. He wields the Mage’s Fang, never forget. That sword should have been Amelia’s, but Bethesda never trusted her enough to let her get near the Quetzalcoatl’s skull. She trusted Bob, though. Despite his loyalty to the Planeswalker, Bethesda would never let a seer slip through her claws. From the moment she realized he was the real deal, she’s followed his advice to the letter. I think the only reason she accepted your coup with such grace was because she knew Bob was behind it.”
If the violence of the last week was Bethesda accepting him with “grace,” Julius couldn’t imagine the alternative. Still, what Chelsie said helped to explain Bethesda’s uncharacteristic despondence when she’d realized Bob had betrayed the clan. Their mother was many things, most of them terrible, but she wasn’t a quitter. The Heartstriker was as famous for her dauntless tenacity as she was for her egg laying, which was why her sudden willingness to just give up and run had seemed so odd. Now, though, Julius understood. It wasn’t facing seemingly insurmountable odds that had Bethesda down—it was the fact that she was having to do it without her seer.
“Do you think he’s really betrayed us?”
Chelsie frowned, thinking the question over. “No,” she said at last. “But only because the word ‘betrayal’ implies that he was on our side to begin with, and the only side Bob’s ever been on is his own. There’s no tragedy that strikes this clan that Bob didn’t see coming and work to his advantage. He knew what would happen to me before I’d even left for China, and I’m sure he foresaw your mortal’s death well before Mother kicked you out. A good brother, one who actually cared about his clan, would have warned us when he saw these disasters coming. You would have warned us, but Bob didn’t. He didn’t lift a finger to save us, because Bob isn’t nice or good. He’s a dragon, and dragons look out for themselves.”
Julius closed his eyes. He wanted to deny it all—especially the part about Marci—but it was hard to argue when Bob had taken every opportunity to tell Julius the exact same thing. He’d always said that Julius was all the nice Heartstriker had, and now that the truth of that smacked them all in the face, Julius had to wonder why he’d been foolish enough to let himself think otherwise.
Even so.
“I still can’t believe he killed Amelia,” he said stubbornly. “Even if he really is a terrible, selfish dragon, it just doesn’t make any sense. Why would he invest so much in helping me change our clan if he was going to turn around and bring it all crashing down the same day we finally get the Heartstriker Council together?”
“I agree,” Chelsie said. “It doesn’t make sense, but that’s the problem: seers don’t. They don’t follow normal logic. All their plans are based on observations the rest of us won’t see for decades. There’s probably something coming that will make Amelia’s death look like a brilliant move in hindsight, but until that actually happens, we have to accept that we can’t know.”
“So that’s it?” Julius said angrily. “You want me to just accept that bad things happen and do nothing?”
“I never said ‘do nothing,’” she snapped. “Why do you think I’m here? Just because I’ve accepted that I may never understand why Bob took my egg doesn’t mean I’m going to let him keep it!”
The way she said that made him more nervous than ever. “You don’t think he’d hurt it, do you?”
“I’ve learned never to put anything past the Seer of the Heartstrikers,” Chelsie growled. “He knows I’ll protect that egg at all costs, which means so long as he has it, he has me by the throat.”
He hadn’t considered that angle, but as soon as Chelsie pointed it out, Julius’s mind flashed back to the confrontation in the elevator when Bob had ordered him not to free Chelsie. He’d done it anyway, of course, but he hadn’t considered the fact that that apparent failure might have been in Bob’s plan, too. After all, Bob saw everything. He might not have known for sure if Julius was going to refuse, but so long as it was a possibility, he would have had a backup plan. Something that would make sure Chelsie stayed under his control no matter what Julius did. Something she couldn’t walk away from.
“Oh no,” he whispered, putting his head in his hands. “No, no, no. He took it hostage.”
“He did,” C
helsie said, her eyes angry. “I’m sorry, Julius. I wish we were as good as you want us to be, but the truth is Bob’s not so different from Mother. Just like her, he can be charismatic and charming when it suits him, but when it comes to getting what he wants, he’s as ruthless as any other dragon. Including me, which is why I’m here.”
Julius looked at her in confusion. “What?”
“You’re his linchpin,” she said, staring at him like a predator in the dark. “I don’t know why, but all of his recent plots have revolved around you. I’m betting this latest one does, too, which is why, until my egg is safely back in my possession, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
He stared at her in horror. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to keep being Bob’s tool after this.”
“Your intentions are none of my concern,” she said, standing up. “But you are his tool, and that makes you mine as well, because for all their knowledge of the future, seers aren’t gods. The only way they make things happen is by manipulating others, and since all of Bob’s strings seem to run through you, that makes you his weakness. Tell him off all you like, but sooner or later, he’s going to appear and shove you in a direction. When that happens, I’ll be there. I will find him, and I will take my egg back by whatever means necessary.”
The way she said that sent chills down Julius’s spine. He’d never seen his sister so deadly, and that was saying something. Julius wasn’t sure what had been the final straw—threatening her egg or taking away her hard-won freedom before she’d even tasted it—but Bob had clearly crossed a line, and Chelsie was going to make him pay for it in blood.
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?”
“Not unless he makes me,” Chelsie said coldly. “But I’m done being a pawn on his board. He and Bethesda have had me by the throat for almost my entire life. Now, thanks to you, I’m free, and as a free dragon, I will not tolerate the things I love being put in danger ever again.”
Every word she spoke sent Julius sinking deeper into his chair. And here he’d thought this day couldn’t get any worse. As angry as he was at Bob for all of this, though, he didn’t want his brother to die. Especially not by Chelsie. There’d been too much death already, too many tragedies. The whole point of making a Council in the first place was so family wouldn’t kill family anymore. That said, though, now was not the time to put himself in Chelsie’s way. She had every right to be angry over this, and as much as he wanted to talk her away from the violence he could feel radiating off her like heat, the instincts that had kept Julius alive through many bouts of dragon fury told him his best bet was to just let it go. So that was what he did, lowering his head meekly before his sister.
As always, the submissive play worked like a charm. The moment it was clear he wasn’t going to fight about it, Chelsie’s fury blew over, leaving her…not calm, exactly, but no longer on the edge of bloodshed, which was good enough. “Glad to know we have an understanding,” she said stiffly, sitting down again.
“You’re my sister,” Julius replied with a sincere smile. “I’ll always help you any way I can. That said, I promise I’ll call the moment Bob contacts me, so you don’t have to stay here and keep watch. I appreciate your company, but you’re free now. You should be off enjoying that, not babysitting me.”
It might have been his imagination, but for a moment there, Chelsie actually looked touched. The soft emotion vanished as soon as he spotted it, though, leaving only the usual hard, ruthless dragon glaring down at him as she shook her head. “I can’t. Not until my egg is safe. I appreciate the offer, though, which reminds me. I have a present for you.”
He blinked in confusion, but Chelsie was already navigating her way back through the maze of Bob’s hoarded room to the door. “It’s not much,” she said as she reached down to grab something off the floor of the hallway outside. “Just something I picked up to thank you for sticking it out and setting me free even after I told you not to and…well, everything really.”
Her voice was flawlessly casual, but the words still made Julius’s chest swell. “Thank you” wasn’t something that came easily to any dragon’s lips, especially one as proud and prickly as Chelsie. He was struggling to think up a reply that his jaded sister wouldn’t brush off as a mere platitude when Chelsie turned around to reveal the battered canvas shoulder bag she was holding in her hands. A very familiar canvas shoulder bag.
Marci’s bag.
“Where did you get that?”
“In the DFZ,” Chelsie said, walking back to him. “I went back there the morning after we ran. I’d hoped to retrieve her body, but Reclamation Land was seething like a kicked-over anthill. In the end, this was all I could grab. I was planning to use it as leverage to make you get out of bed, but you managed that on your own. I thought about not giving it to you at all after that. I wasn’t sure if it would be too painful, but I knew I’d want it if I was in your position, so…”
She trailed off with a shrug, holding out the bag. After almost a minute of staring, Julius took it with shaking hands, closing his eyes as his fingers slid over the familiar beige canvas stained burgundy at the bottom where blood had seeped in. Marci’s blood, filled with Marci’s scent.
After that, all attempts at decorum vanished. He clutched the bag to his chest with a sob, curling himself around it into a ball in Bob’s battered armchair. He was so lost, he didn’t even notice Chelsie moving closer until her hand landed on his back.
“I buried her,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t do much, just a shallow grave. I know that’s cold comfort, but at least you can rest knowing she’s not lying out in the open.”
His sister was right. It wasn’t a comfort. “Marci deserved better.”
“She did,” Chelsie agreed. “They always do, but…this is how mortals end, Julius. No matter what we do, how hard we try, they always die. All we can do is remember them, and I thought if you had something physical to hold on to, it would help.”
Julius didn’t see how this pain could ever be helped, but he wasn’t about to let the bag go. “Thank you,” he whispered, curling himself tighter.
She pressed her palm down against his back. Then, like the shade she was named for, Chelsie was gone, leaving him alone. This time, though, Julius was glad of it. Awful as it was not to have something to distract him from the pain, he needed to be alone with the bag that smelled of Marci. Needed to be where no one could see him, and he didn’t have to be anything but empty.
That was where he stayed, curled up in Bob’s abandoned armchair in their soon-to-be-abandoned mountain, holding tight to the memory of a person who was never coming back.
Chapter 2
“So let me make sure I’ve got this right,” Marci said slowly. “I’m dead.”
“Correct,” her father said.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she muttered, tilting her head back to look up at the endless dark.
She had no idea how long they’d been here. It felt as if she’d been crying forever, but eventually the tears had dried up. Now she and her dad were just standing next to each other in the infinite blackness, which, while not uncomfortable, definitely wasn’t where Marci wanted to be.
“So where are we, exactly?” she asked, arching her neck all around as she tried to find an edge or marker, something that would prove they weren’t actually standing in an endless void. “Is this some kind of limbo or—”
Hell was her next guess, because she absolutely refused to believe this cold, dark nothing was heaven, but her father beat her to the punch. “We are inside your death.”
She turned back to him. “And what does that mean? You say ‘my death’ like it’s a place. Is death another dimension or something?”
Aldo Novalli laughed. “I have no idea. Theoretical magic was your area of expertise, carina. This old man only knows what he’s seen.”
That answer was so like her dad, Marci couldn’t help laughing with him, though hers was more the nervous, “we’re screwed” sort. “
If I’m the expert, we’re in trouble, because I can’t see a thing.”
“That’s only because you haven’t opened your eyes yet,” Aldo said encouragingly. “Try again.”
That didn’t make any sense. If her eyes were closed, how was she seeing her father? But waking up inside your death was the sort of experience that demanded an open mind, so Marci swallowed all her reasons why this couldn’t possibly be and just gave it a shot, blinking her eyes rapidly in an attempt to open what should already be open.
The effect was immediate.
“Wow,” she whispered, stumbling backward.
Marci wasn’t sure what had happened, but at some point during all her blinking, the formless void had rolled back like a curtain to reveal a weirdly familiar scene. She was standing on the gravel driveway leading up to the three-story house hidden beneath the Skyway on-ramps where she and Julius had lived in the DFZ. Even as she stared in wonder, Marci knew this couldn’t be their real house. For one thing, the porch and front door were still intact, not chopped in two by Conrad’s sword, and second, she was dead. But that didn’t stop the house from feeling real. More than real, like a picture that had been digitally enhanced to look even more beautiful than real life, and as she stared at it, Marci realized why.
This wasn’t their house. It was her memory of it. The rosy recollection of their home as she’d loved it best, right down to her dad’s freshly repaired car parked in its usual spot out front. Likewise, the spiral of cement on-ramps overhead was empty and quiet, something that had never happened in the actual DFZ, where cars were always racing from the Underground to the Skyways at all hours. Here, though, everything was still. No sirens or headlights flashing through cracks or flickering orange street lamps humming in the dark. No sound or movement at all. Just the house standing quietly in the cement shelter of the tangled overpasses, its windows lit up cheerily to welcome her home.
“Okay,” Marci said at last, turning back to her dad. “Did I make all of this up just now, or was it always here?”