The Lost Voice

by V. St. Clair

  “Shellina says you’re escorting her to my wedding,” she said without knowing where the words came from or why they were the first thing out of her mouth.

  Topher’s face registered surprised, his lips parting slightly as he looked at her.

  “Is it a problem?” he asked at last. “I did agree to accompany her to the event, since I am required to attend the ceremony anyway, but if you would prefer she be seen with someone other than myself—”

  He’s only going to my wedding because he’s required to be there? Jessamine wanted to cry. What happened to the days of him telling me he’d be there to support me and to murder my groom if necessary?

  “It’s not a problem,” she cut him off abruptly. “I’m happy for her—for you both. I was just curious.”

  A long moment of silence stretched between them, sinking its claws into her and making her wish she had never come here tonight. She stood up.

  “This was a mistake. I’m sorry to take your time tonight when you obviously need rest and have no desire to speak to me. I hope your talk with your mother went well.”

  “I do want to speak to you,” Topher said quietly, and Jessamine stopped halfway to the door and spun around to face him, frustrated and angry and miserable.

  “If you wanted to talk to me, you wouldn’t tell me to take a hike every time I ask you for a word alone, or avoid me like the plague whenever we’re in meetings together. Damn it, Topher, all I wanted was for you to not make me appear weak in public, not for you to shut me out of your life altogether, but you don’t do anything by half-measures. I know I’m not the ruler you signed up to serve—I can never be my father—but I’m trying as hard as I can, and if you’re disgusted with me now because I’m Gifted, I guess I can’t blame you for that. But I thought our collective history together would have meant more to you than something I can’t control or change about myself. If you’re only going to be at my wedding because your position requires you to, then I officially exempt you from any obligation to attend. If you think you saved the wrong Viceregal a few weeks ago, then you’re probably right, and if you want to resign then I’ll let you go—”

  “I’m having a mental breakdown,” Topher cut her off, saying the words so matter-of-factly that it took Jessamine a moment to understand them.

  “You—what?” she asked, confused.

  “I’ve been losing myself since the night of the attack, Jessa—since before then, perhaps. I’m sorry as hell if you’ve been thinking any of this was your fault, or some baroque attempt to punish you. It’s me, Jessa. I’m the problem right now, not you.”

  The anger and pain began to recede as Jessamine took a step closer to him, then another, until she stood directly in front of him. He remained sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Please explain,” she said at last.

  “Jessa, your father was like a father to me as well—I think you’ve known that for a long time. I’ve already watched one father die, and now the second one is gone, too. Even worse, if I had had the foresight to consider the attack would threaten more than just you, I could have arranged to prevent it and he would still be alive. I failed him, Jessa. The only time it actually mattered, and I failed.”

  She had been so consumed by her own grief all this time that it hadn’t even occurred to her how badly Topher and others might be hurting as well.

  “You didn’t fail. He told you to protect me, and you did.”

  “There are conspirators still working within the Augenspire—hopefully at the lower levels, but until we find them, you are still in danger. On top of that, my mother—the one parent I have left to me—is the woman I’ve spent the last ten years hunting down for trying to overthrow your government. She has spent the last decade hating me and fighting against everything I stand for, with one of my childhood friends working alongside her.”

  Jessamine’s eyebrows lifted at this and she said, “Risa? I wondered why she seemed so angry around me all the time.”

  Topher nodded wearily.

  “There’s a voice in my head I still can’t trace the source of or communicate with—by the way, my mother’s people aren’t hacking me, so that leaves me with mystical-voice-of-unknown-origin or insanity as my two remaining options. Even after everything, the damn voice is still telling me ‘it is falling,’ which means the nightmare isn’t over for us yet, but you keep prodding at your enemies as hard as possible to drive them into the open.”

  “I can’t let them win—”

  “I know you can’t, and I applaud your strategy and your courage, but it makes it hard as hell for me to get a decent night’s sleep when I consider that my chief responsibility is to keep you safe and you’re determined to rile the people who want you dead. I’ve been wearing Block for weeks just so I can function—”

  “You have?!” Jessamine exclaimed in shock. Suddenly his apathy and avoidance all made sense. “Topher, that’s dangerous! You shouldn’t block out all of your emotions for such a long time, or you’ll never work through them properly and your brain will get used to being wired a different way and struggle to come back to normal.”

  “Reya said as much to me this evening.” He sighed. “I haven’t had time to work through my own issues, because I’ve either been running the government for your sister—who, thankfully, is finally improving—or working sixteen-hour days trying to keep up with everything and ensure your safety. It only takes one mistake for your enemies to get you, so there isn’t time for me to worry about myself. You telling me to back off in public wasn’t the issue—you were right to do so—but it was the last thing on a heap of other things, the collective weight of which is crushing me.”

  Jessamine saw through the mask, to the pain and confusion and sadness beneath. He stared up at her from the bed, willing her to understand. And she did.

  “Oh, Topher.” She sat down beside him at last. “I’m such an ass. I was only thinking about myself in all of this, and how it affects me. I didn’t even think about what was happening with you, or what it must be costing you to spend yourself so hard for me every day.”

  “It isn’t your job to worry about me.”

  “Yes it is, and don’t ever say otherwise again.” She touched the back of his hand. “I took for granted that you were invincible, and would just always be there, performing at peak condition no matter what was going on around you. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry. Please don’t wear that horrid Block Talent anymore.”

  “I’ve already promised Reya I wouldn’t,” Topher sighed. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?” he choked on a humorless laugh.

  “A bit, yes.” Jessamine smiled, relieved. “Let’s hope our enemies never figure it out, or we’ll be in trouble.”

  “Sometimes I don’t see how we can win against them. What if there are hundreds—thousands of them? They only have to get lucky once, and we have to be perfect every time.”

  “We’ll win the same way we always do. Together,” Jessamine explained easily.

  Miraculously, this seemed to comfort him, and he twisted his hand around to interlock their fingers.

  For a moment she wanted to blurt out her plan to lock Parl in their top-level prisons until he told them who his co-conspirators were, but the words caught in her throat. She couldn’t bring herself to add another burden to Topher right now, not when things were finally getting back to normal between them. She also had no idea how he would feel about her plan to torment one of his former peers in the place all Majors feared.

  Later, she promised herself. I’ll tell him later.

  “I don’t think badly of you for being Gifted,” he said after a long moment of silence. “It’s a part of who you are, and you are still the person I’ve served since the age of thirteen—well, one of them.”

  Jessamine exhaled in relief, resting her head on his shoulder sleepily.

  “I’m glad to hear it. Some of your peers would be a lot less open-minded about it. Darius would probably void our marriage contract over it.”

&nb
sp; “Then I encourage you to tell him as soon as possible,” Topher said with such deadpan seriousness that Jessamine burst into laughter, squeezing his hand and eliciting a genuine smile from him.

  Serious again, Topher said, “If you don’t mind my asking…what is your Gift, anyway? I didn’t think it worked on Fox that night, but you said it did.”

  Jessamine couldn’t meet his eyes when she said, “Well, I’m an illusionist. If I’ve got my emblem, when people look at me, I can make them see someone they love.” She glanced briefly up at him, but his features were neutral and impossible to read. “It was very hard to practice, because only my father knew about my Gift, and whenever I tried using it with him, he still saw me as I am.”

  “Ah—yes,” Topher understood immediately.

  “But it apparently worked on Fox, because he called me Marissa.” The rest of it seemed to follow silently.

  But you said you only saw me…

  ‘Love’ was a tricky thing to pin down though, and since Jessamine hadn’t been able to test her Gift extensively on a wide sample set, it was impossible to know what the qualifying parameters were. Love obviously didn’t have to be romantic, since her father still saw her as herself, so any close bond would probably produce similar results. She also didn’t know if her Gift revealed the person the target loved the most, or simply chose to reflect any person that qualified as “loved” at random. Jessamine’s father always said he saw her, but with enough different trials would he eventually see her mother or her sister instead?

  At least I know Topher cares about me enough to be able to see through my Gift, whether it’s in the way I want him to or not.

  “So how did your talk with your mother go?” Jessamine changed the subject abruptly, because the silence was growing uncomfortable.

  Topher seemed relieved for the new topic and said, “About as well as expected.” He stared up at the ceiling over the door. “I was unaware of her close ties to Ash and his friends, but he was apparently a mentor to her before he passed, and she picked up where he left off to honor his memory.”

  “So she said while I was there. It’s a horrible coincidence.”

  Topher raised his eyebrows briefly in acknowledgement of this.

  “In some ways it made things easier—easier to understand, at least. I couldn’t figure out why she hated me so much that she was willing to pick up an entire revolution just to undermine me. The loss of a father figure and mentor is something I can understand.”

  “Does she understand your involvement in Halstead?”

  “Yes. It’s why she hates me, despite knowing my reasoning was sound. I was following orders and acting in accordance with my principles, and she was doing the same. Our principles simply do not align.”

  “Wherein lies the issue,” Jessamine sighed. “You two are a lot alike, you know.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Topher made a face at her.

  “Well, do you at least feel better for having gotten it out in the open?”

  He paused to consider for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I think I do, though it was hard to hear her say she hates me. I believe we can work together for the good of your reign, at least.”

  “Well, it’s a start,” Jessamine allowed, not sure how anyone could hate Topher. “It’s getting late. I should let you get some sleep, or we’ll both be useless tomorrow.”

  Topher nodded and watched her go to the door.

  “I hope our misunderstanding was resolved,” he said as she reached the threshold. “No matter what happens, please know I’ll always support you.”

  Jessamine smiled.

  “I do. Promise me one thing though.”

  “Anything,” he said without hesitation.

  “Save a dance for me at my wedding.”

  “I promise.”

  “I won’t forget.” She smiled, thinking at least five minutes of her wedding would be enjoyable. “Now I really do need to get to bed.”

  “Then goodnight, Jessa.”

  “Goodnight, Topher.”

  11

  Maxton Mercuria

  Max was doing push-ups in Hera’s living room when the comm rang. He knew without looking that it was not for him; the last few months had broken him of the reflex to check his comm when he heard one buzzing. He missed being able to communicate with the outside world, of being able to look online at funny videos or news articles at his leisure, but he’d been forced to give his comm to Hera’s team to be destroyed, the only way to avoid being tracked by it after fleeing the Augenspire.

  Sure enough, Hera rose from her seat around the coffee table and went to take the call in the kitchen. Max had no idea what she had spent all morning working on at the coffee table; despite being in the same room with her, he hadn’t asked. Though they lived together, Hera still kept a lot of her work private, and Maxton had gotten good at knowing when it was acceptable to ask questions and when it wasn’t.

  A moment later, Hera returned with a strange look on her face. Her lips were pursed slightly in confusion when she said, “Max, you have a call.”

  He was just as surprised as she was.

  “I have a call? On your comm?” he asked, trying to think of anyone he knew who would call him at Hera’s number.

  Maybe one of the scientists or informants I usually talk to on her behalf?

  But that didn’t make sense. He only borrowed Hera’s comm to keep up with their network of informants and technologists when she was unavailable during the day. None of those people were calling to talk to him, they were just relaying information through him to get to her.

  But if they called her and she answered, then why would they want to talk to me?

  “Are you going to answer it, or should I stand here holding the comm out for a while longer?” Hera asked, narrowing her eyes, and Max suddenly realized he had left her there with her hand outstretched while he was lost in thought.

  “Sorry. Who is it?” he mouthed as he took the device from her, though he needn’t have bothered since the screen was set to video mode and he saw the answer to his question instantly. “Vicereine?” he fumbled with the comm and almost dropped it after seeing her face in the display. Jessamine was wearing her light armor and sitting against a plain backdrop.

  “Hi, Maxton. How are you?” the leader of the entire planet asked him casually.

  “Uh, fine—I think. Unless you’re about to tell me otherwise…” he trailed off, much more nervous than he’d thought. “Um, how are you?”

  Jessamine smiled faintly and said, “Tired. Busy. Same as usual. I wanted to let you know I’ve had your name cleared from our Wanted lists, and the warrants for your arrest have been erased as well. Your records were expunged as of an hour ago, so other than the written warning you received for painting a mustache on a statue of my grandmother at the age of fourteen, you have a clean record.”

  This was such a shock that Max almost dropped the comm again.

  “Wait, you mean—does this mean I’m free to leave the house without being arrested or killed?”

  “Yes, you’re free to return to the Academy—well, I say ‘free,’ but please realize your presence there is still compulsory for the time being,” Jessamine explained in a tone of faint displeasure. “But for all intents and purposes, you are as free as every other Gifted.”

  “Wow, that’s…” he began, a million things racing through his mind at once. “Thanks!” he said at last.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t think to do it earlier. I hope this settles your unfair treatment while here at the Augenspire.”

  “It’s fine—you’re the busiest person on the planet right now. I didn’t expect you to think of me at all or waste time helping me—wait, that makes it sound like an insult. I’m doing a bad job of this, but what I mean to say is I have no hard feelings towards you. Thank you for taking time out of your impossible schedule to help me.”

  Jessamine’s smile seemed more genuine this time, though it made her look exhausted.

  “Of
course. Is Hera still in the room with you?”

  Max looked up to see the older woman still framed in the doorway leading to the kitchen, leaning against the frame and watching the conversation with a neutral look on her face.

  “Yes, Vicereine.”

  “Good. Can you hand her the comm?”

  Maxton nodded and passed the comm to Hera, though she remained beside him so he could hear the conversation as it continued.

  “Excellency?” Hera said. Max had been trying to figure out how the two women really felt about each other for weeks, and he still had no idea if they liked each other, respected each other, hated each other, or some weird combination of the three.

  “A new problem has arisen from my lifting of curfew on the Gifted.”

  “Oh?”

  “A Gifted was found dead in an alley on your end of town two weeks ago. Asphyxiation. The autopsy determined cause of death to be strangulation by another party.”

  Max said, “You had a government autopsy done on a Gifted?” at the same time Hera asked, “You think this involves me because of the location?”

  Hera silenced Max with a look, and Jessamine frowned and said, “No, I’m not suggesting this involves your people; I was merely mentioning the location of the incident. And yes, Maxton, I had an autopsy done. I’m particularly edgy about signs of backlash from my recent decisions, especially until I am certain the Augenspire is free of traitors. I have the Minors watching for suspicious deaths, so this was brought to my attention.”

  “Ah, good thinking,” Max allowed, admiring her foresight.

  “Just as I was meeting with the General Assembly to discuss whether the incident is a hate crime, a personal vendetta, or an attack against my regime, we received word of another murder downtown.”

  “Another Gifted?” Hera asked with interest.

  “Yes. This one was stabbed.”

  Maxton frowned thoughtfully and said, “Where? They couldn’t be resuscitated? Any of the hospitals in the area should be able to patch or replace any organ in ten minutes.”