by Nina Walker
Clearly, I didn’t know what I wanted.
“I think we need to stay focused on the mission, you know? Overthrow the monarchy. Start a new life.”
“Agreed.”
Tristan’s eyes flashed before he looked away, and he stood and headed to his kitchenette. He opened a cupboard, pulled out two glasses and filled them with water. Handing me one, he cleared his throat. We both gulped the water, as if trying to keep ourselves from saying anything stupid. From the strained look on his face, I would guess he was as uncomfortable as I was, but I wasn’t sure. He was harder to read than most men.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his left eyebrow rising in a familiar gesture. Just one of the many things I loved about him.
“Yeah, why?”
“You look like you’re trying to do a math problem.”
I hated math. Yup, I am obviously over-thinking everything.
“Hey, I wanted to wish you Happy Birthday.” He smiled.
Oh, here we go. My birthday. I didn’t celebrate.
“Thanks.”
“I got you something.” He slipped into his room and came out with a box-shaped gift wrapped in brown paper. I was never good with stuff like this. Presents. Birthdays. Holidays. Being abandoned by a family did that to a person like me. But Tristan was the opposite. He’d always found a way to make everything special. And his homemade gifts were the best. They were the one thing about my birthdays I looked forward to.
I unwrapped the gift carefully to find a tin filled with brownies. The smell of chocolate made my mouth water instantly. “How did you pull this off?” I gasped. Cocoa was nearly impossible to get out here. We traded with the closest Canadian town, but they were just under a hundred miles west. Not a very convenient trip; plus, we didn’t like people thinking about us too much.
“I traded with one of the new families. Helped them with their plumbing. They smuggled it in from New Colony, and then I convinced Mrs. Riley to bake them for you. I helped clean out her garden.”
My eyes burned, and I pushed back the tears. He had done all that for me. He was always doing nice things for me. I didn’t deserve him. I felt my eyes brim with tears.
“This is so nice.” I smiled up at him as we stood close, the tin between us. “Thank you. Here, you have the first one.”
We both plopped a square of the chocolate cake into our mouths. I moaned. I caught him staring down at my mouth, and I blushed again. I swallowed, licking the chocolate from my lips. He moved an inch closer.
“You’ve got something…” He reached up and brushed my lips with the pad of his thumb. Then his hand stopped, traveling to cup my cheek.
I decided to be brave and met his eyes. There was so much there. So much unsaid, burning in the darkness. Longing and torment…and love.
I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid or less afraid by what I saw.
“I don’t think I can do this right now,” I whispered. He let out a breath and stepped back.
A heavy knock sounded at the door, and I jumped. He held my gaze for a heated moment and then left me to open the door.
Mastin stood in the doorway. They stared at each other for a beat and then turned to look at me. Agitation crossed Mastin’s brow. Tristan had shut down again. Nobody moved.
“Hey, guys,” Mastin finally said. He sounded a bit winded. He also appeared a bit flustered. “We’re having an important meeting down by the fire pit at eight o’clock tonight. Everyone’s invited. Spread the word. You both need to be there.”
“Is this about what I think it’s about?” Tristan asked.
Mastin nodded slowly. “It’s time.”
“We all have an important decision to make,” Cole said. “Consider your options carefully. The choice you make will determine your future.”
About a hundred and fifty men and women stood around the large fire, crowding the area. It crackled as the night settled over us. Almost every adult and teenager who had defected from New Colony at some point were in attendance, a handful were alchemists like myself. Some were ex-officers like Tristan and Hank. But most were just regular, everyday people who’d caught word of us and fled here for one reason or another. The flickering of the fire danced off their faces, their eyes shining in the darkness.
“New Colony has attacked America. This is what we were worried about. King Richard has accused us of not only the death of Queen Natasha, but for aiding in a recent terror attack. His claims are completely false, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him. We believe he’s been preparing for this opportunity for a long time now.”
“How many dead?” someone shouted from the crowd.
“We don’t know an exact number yet. He struck a military base as well as the surrounding town. The reports coming back are…disturbing.”
Which was to be expected with anything that man touched.
“His strongest alchemists and military leaders are out of the palace at the moment. We’ve decided to strike while the iron is hot. West America has helicopters on their way now to pick us up, armed with many of our own soldiers. Anyone who wants to fight is invited to fight with us. We’ll be dropping in on the palace tomorrow after nightfall. But we’re vulnerable to the alchemists, and we’re asking for any alchemist who is willing to join us.”
“But we’re barely trained,” someone protested.
“Don’t take the children,” another person yelled. I agreed, of course the kids had to stay behind. Lacey popped into my mind and my breath caught.
“I have an executive order straight from our president herself. To our alchemists sixteen and older, if you come with us, no matter what happens to you, your family back home will be excluded from the military draft, should we need to use it.” The crowd was silent, apparantly considering. A draft meant they would force people to fight this war. No one wanted that. “And once this is all over, should West America be the victor, all your crimes will be pardoned.” He then looked over the audience, catching my eye. “And to those of you who aren’t citizens of West America, if you help us win this war, we will grant you citizenship and a good life. You will be free to enjoy our prosperous society.”
A hush ran through the crowd, coupled with the buzz of excitement. The news infuriated me. What? These poor people. Alchemists punished for being themselves. Crimes pardoned only if they agreed to fight. Ridiculous!
The draft was new information. How many people were in their military? And how many more would be joining? Was it possible we could win this thing? I couldn’t stop the images from popping up. The thought of having a better life ahead caused a ripple of excitement to burst.
“Sign me up!” someone called.
“We’re in,” a couple said, stepping forward. A man, holding a toddler in his arms, placed his son in his wife’s arms and spoke in a calm voice, “So long as I can act on behalf of my family as well, then I’m ready to fight.”
Cole nodded.
After a few minutes, about half the crowd had agreed to the mission. If we had a hundred volunteers from this camp, plus special-ops soldiers coming in, maybe we could do it. Maybe we could end this war right now. It was wishful thinking, but the hope bubbled inside just the same.
“For those of you who are in, meet us back here at first light tomorrow. We have a lot to go over in preparation. One last thing,” Cole continued. “Thank you. Thank you for stepping up. We won’t let you down.”
It was a promise. But not one he could keep. We all knew the risk, but did the people around me really know how difficult this was going to be? Did these people have any idea what the alchemists at the palace were capable of? And forget about the officers. They might shoot first and ask questions later. Plus, there were the palace guards—not quite officers, but they still knew how to fight. And they were crawling all over the palace…
Not everyone is going to make it.
I peered around at the stoic faces glowing in the firelight and realized the truth. These people weren’t stupid. They knew they might die. But they wer
e willing to take the risk anyway for something they believed in. That was true bravery. I looked at Tristan standing to my left. He caught my eye and nodded.
“You’re coming with us?” Mastin asked, joining Tristan and me as we observed the frenzy of conversation.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said, my words dripping in sarcasm.
A head of blond curls squeezed through the crowd. Lacey. She shot through the people and dashed over to me. “You’re going?” she asked. I nodded, and she hugged my legs. “You’re going to kick their butts!” I reached down to rest my hand on her head. “Please be careful,” she added, quietly. She sounded so grown up, so afraid. This stupid situation was stealing her childhood and there was nothing I could about it. She deserved so much better.
“Kind of a crappy way to end your birthday, huh?” Mastin said, frowning.
“The worst,” I agreed. But hey, it wasn’t like I expected much.
“It’s your birthday?” a woman’s shaky voice asked, moving in behind me. It was Lara. Oh no…
“Yup, our girl is twenty today,” Mastin said, oblivious. But Tristan reached out to squeeze my hand. He knew my secret was dangerously close to being revealed.
“You’re twenty. Today… Oh my God,” Lara breathed. She was technically my mother, but I didn’t consider her as anything other than a passing acquaintance these days. I wasn’t ready for some happy reunion.
“Christopher,” she called, her voice unnaturally high. “Come here.”
Oh no. Double no!
“What is it, honey?” he asked, the shadows of the fire extenuating the lines on his face. His hair was graying and he looked…defeated. Tired. He was a completely different man from the one I remembered. But his smell…it was the same. It was leather and grass clippings and everything that broke my heart.
“Sasha,” she said, drawing out my name, “is twenty years old. Today.”
He blinked, his gaze moving from me to Lacey and back again. “I thought it might be. The resemblance… But I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” he whispered.
“All right, well, you two have a good night,” I said, stepping back farther. I needed to get out of here immediately.
“Wait,” Lara said. “Please. Don’t go, Francesca.”
I stilled, my whole body numb.
“Frankie, please,” Christopher added. “We’ve been waiting for this moment for years.”
“What are they talking about?” Mastin glanced to Tristan, who only shook his head imperceptibly. “Who’s Francesca?”
“She is,” Lara said, pointing to me, her hand shaking. “She’s not Sasha. That’s not her real name.” Tears formed in her wide eyes. “She’s Francesca, our daughter.”
“Frankie,” Christopher gasped, rushing and pulling me into a hug. Frozen, trepidation filled every cell in my body. What do I say? What was I supposed to feel? I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t angry. I was just…nothing.
“All these years, we prayed to find you again,” Christopher whispered into my hair. His voice cracked. “We didn’t think we would ever see you again.”
“And all this time you’ve been here?” Lara asked.
At some point, she had also started hugging me. I was in the middle of two people grabbing onto me for dear life. Fight or flight response was firing through me. I need out.
“Why don’t you let her go now?” Tristan said, resting a hand on each of their backs. His tone wasn’t asking; he was telling them what to do. They caught the meaning and stepped away from me. Everything went hot and cold and hot again. I watched the ground, unable to look anyone in the eye.
“But…” Lara sputtered, turning to Tristan. “You don’t understand. They took her away from us when she was only a child. We had no choice.”
That’s when I finally got my mouth to work again. “I remember it. I saw it all, okay? You didn’t even fight. That was a choice.” Indignation filled every word. Anger. Regret.
My head popped up, letting her see all the pain my eyes had held onto for years.
Tears began to cascade down my mother’s face. “We made a mistake. We were in shock. Total shock until it was too late. And you were just…gone.” Her voice broke and she sobbed.
I shook my head. Something wet caught my attention, and I wiped at the sensation moving down my cheeks. I was crying too.
“Please,” Christopher begged. He was shaking. “Please forgive us. Please, let us be a family again. We’ve missed you more than you could ever imagine.”
I glanced at Tristan, not knowing what to do. He was my family. My rock. He would know what to do, what to say. I willed him to do something. Get me out of here! He caught my sense of panic and grabbed my hand, squeezing it before nodding.
“I think this is a lot for all of you to process right now. Why don’t you let Sasha go to her cabin and you can all talk about this later?”
“After the mission,” I said. I can deal with it then. Just, not now.
“You can’t possibly go on that now!” Lara continued. She had Jessa’s hair, dark and wild, and it danced around her face in the firelight, causing something painful to rise in my chest. I didn’t want her concern. I didn’t know what to do with something like that.
“It’s too dangerous,” Christopher agreed.
“But we need her. She will save a lot of lives if she goes,” Mastin said, the light of the fire igniting his features, making his cropped hair shine. Apparently, he’d caught up on the situation, but his mind was focused on the mission ahead, as it should be. As mine should be.
“I’m going,” I said, finally feeling a moment of confidence and grabbing on for dear life. “I’ll be fine. I’m really good at what I do.”
“It’s true,” Tristan confirmed. “She’s the best alchemist we have.”
“Then I’ll go too,” Christopher said calmly. His back straightened.
What? No way!
I shook my head. “No, we promised Jessa we’d keep you three safe.”
“Please don’t go,” Lara tried again.
Lacey had been standing on the edge of the conversation. She didn’t seem to get everything that was being said, but she was smart enough to understand her father had just volunteered to go and fight. She crawled into his arms and hugged him tightly around the neck. Her little body trembled with fear and confusion, but she didn’t say a word.
“I’m going,” Christopher said again. “And I’m getting you and Jessa out of that horrible place.” He turned to his wife. “And then we’re all going to finally be together.”
I cursed inwardly. There was already enough riding on this mission, and now I had to keep my estranged father safe as well. As much as I told myself I hated my parents, deep down, I wanted to forgive them. I wanted the hole in my heart to be filled. I wanted to be loved by a mom and a dad and siblings, just as any normal girl was. And if I was ever going to get the chance, I had to keep him alive. A man with no military training, no magic, and no advantage except an overpowering will to reunite his family. He was a liability, but from the conviction in his voice there would be no convincing him otherwise. I didn’t want him to die.
Why can’t I just say that? A small part of me longed to reach out and wrap my arms around him just like Lacey had. I squashed that part.
“It’s a bad idea,” I said, giving them both a pointed look. “You will probably die.”
“I have to try,” he shrugged. “Frankie, please understand, we love you.”
I smiled half-heartedly, attempting to placate them, but I couldn’t do it any longer. “It’s Sasha,” I said. They only blinked at me, confused. “Like I said, it’s a bad idea. You can’t come. We can talk about what’s next when I get back.” Then I pushed through the crowd and took off running. I ran like the devil was chasing me, and then I ran faster.
14
Lucas
“She’s what?” I exclaimed, clenching my fists at my sides.
“She’s moving in,” my father said.
I practically growled as I stared up at the ceiling. “You can’t be serious.”
He’d called me into his private home office, a place he didn’t spend too much time in. Except lately. He worried about there being a spy somewhere in the network of the officers and had started to keep his plans even closer to his chest. Some I knew he even kept from me.
“I don’t see what the problem is,” he continued. “You barely know her, and she’s going to be your wife soon. This is a great opportunity for you both.”
I didn’t know how to argue with that. He was right, but it still didn’t want Celia anywhere near me.
“Besides, you two have wedding plans to make,” he shrugged.
I stilled. “We have enough to worry about right now without adding a wedding.”
“You’re not trying to get out of this, are you?”
Obviously…
He stood, pressing his palms into his desk. “Lucas, we made a deal. Thomas was executed even though he was our only reliable source of red alchemy.”
“At the moment,” I spat. “Don’t pretend like you won’t pounce on Jessa the second she’s initiated. I know why you’re pushing her through.”
“You’re too protective of her.”
“Someone needs to be!”
“It’s not your place to be her protector!” He stalked toward me, his face losing its usual calm demeanor. “You are not her boyfriend. You are engaged to Celia. She is the daughter of an influential family, a duke and a duchess, charming, beautiful, and more importantly, she’s a suitable bride.” His voice quieted. “Jessa is and will always be an alchemist under our rule. She will get in line, just like everybody else. Just like you, Lucas.”