by Ella M. Lee
“I think you should stay in the soubou,” he said, and I couldn’t believe he issued the words with so little emotion or reaction.
He hadn’t treated me so coldly since the day we first met. Nicolas wasn’t always the most open person, not even with me, but even in our worst moments he’d had kind and encouraging words for me. He’d given me weak smiles. His eyes had still smoldered for me. But right now? Nothing.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Are you…” Say the words. Force them out. “Are you breaking up with me?”
He studied me impassively for a few terrible moments. “I think it would be best to focus on Daniel for now.”
That wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either.
I couldn’t keep the tears away. They spilled into my eyes, blurring my sight. “Nicolas, please, I’m sorry,” I said desperately.
“I hate to say it, Fiona,” he spat, “but I don’t care if you are sorry. Your actions hurt yourself, they hurt me, and they may or may not have a long-term impact on our clan. It was stupid and reckless to do that without consulting anyone, while disregarding my advice, the person who knows more about Stephan than anyone in the world.”
My eyes darted to his hands. They shook as they rested on the table. I’d seen a lot of Nicolas’s flat, cold, calculated reactions. This was different. This was anger, and sadness, and visceral fear.
“I know you believe your decisions to be logical and sound,” Nicolas said, shaking his head, “but it’s already hard enough for me to use my visions to see Lightning and you. This throws a further wrench in that already-difficult balance. Even tangentially involved, Stephan nullifies my abilities. Now that you’ve tied yourself to him, who knows if I’ll ever be able to see you again.”
“We’ll be fine,” I said. “You are brilliant without your visions. Clans succeed without abilities like yours.” I reached across the desk for his hands, but he pulled back quickly, twitching. I frowned. “Can I please just explain? Can I say some things to you?”
“I already heard your explanation,” he said stiffly. “And I can read your mind. I don’t need you to say anything at all.”
His dismissive, condescending tone startled me. Nicolas loved data. He loved explanations. He frequently engaged me just so that he could understand my opinions and emotions, and he always did so positively, drawing out the things he needed to know skillfully. He had a compassionate way of handling me that had slowly built me up and given me more confidence to confront myself and others. But the crushing anxiety blooming in my chest told me he could just as easily knock me back down to nothing if he wanted.
“If you have nothing relevant to the clan to discuss,” he added, “I’ll ask you to leave.” His eyes drifted away from me and onto his laptop.
This couldn’t be happening, could it? Nicolas had never treated me like this.
I reached out again, barely brushing my fingertips across his knuckles. He jerked his hand away, anger blazing in his gold eyes as they fell on me.
I shot up out of my seat and hastily backed toward the door, letting it bang shut behind me. I fled across the garden back to the soubou, throwing myself up the stairs toward my room.
I didn’t make it there.
Instead, I veered into the bathroom on the second floor, flinging the toilet seat open and throwing up into the bowl. I hugged it, retching several times. All that came up was bile. I spit, trying to clear the burning, sticky sensation from my mouth.
Tears stung my eyes and sweat beaded on my hairline, but it was mostly my body’s reaction to vomiting. Nicolas’s words still hadn’t sunk in quite far enough.
He didn’t break up with me. He didn’t not break up with me. He just doesn’t want to see me. He’s helping me with Daniel anyhow. My brain couldn’t come to terms with these mixed signals. When I thought too hard about the fact that I had truly fucked my relationship well and good, I couldn’t breathe.
“Commander?”
I whipped my head toward the door. Teng stood there, wearing one of the oversized black hoodies he frequently sported in his cold server room. In one arm, he held Miki, my little cat.
“I’m fine,” I rasped out. He didn’t look like he believed me. “Just magic,” I added. This wouldn’t be the first time magic had made me sick.
I stood quickly, my head spinning. When I stepped toward the door, Teng held out Miki. I took her, unable to meet his eyes, cuddling her close. Teng would pick me apart if I lingered. He was as perceptive as I was, as perceptive as Daniel, with a keen eye that I loved as long as it wasn’t trained on me. I hastily stepped around him and continued upstairs.
When I finally got to my room, I flung myself down on my futon, wrapped my arms around my pillow, and wept.
Chapter 20
The next week was the most torturous expanse of time I’d ever experienced. Not even my mother’s sudden death had left me feeling so lonely or hurt. My father’s murder and my brother’s disappearance hadn’t confused me this much. Losing my friends and my life in Flame hadn’t destroyed me as thoroughly as this. Not even Daniel’s sacrifice had truly broken me.
But I felt broken now.
I’d never been so afraid, not even the several times when my life had been in imminent danger, not even when I’d nearly drowned.
Not only would Nicolas not talk to me, he wouldn’t even look at me. I’d run into him in the lab several times, only to find that he would leave abruptly when I showed up. He ended conversations when I joined them. I knocked on his door with offerings of tea and food, but he wouldn’t answer. And later, the bags or trays would still be on the ground where I had left them.
I texted him often. I started with apologies and explanations, hoping even if he told me he didn’t want them, that he would read them anyway. I confessed love and affection. I sent quotes and poems. I offered encouragement and support and understanding. I told him how much I needed him and missed him.
Finally, I sent something as close to begging as I could manage.
I made a mistake. Please don’t punish me for it.
After, I added something I thought he’d understand.
“Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”
There was no way Nicolas hadn’t read Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. And there was no way he wouldn’t understand what I was getting at: I take full responsibility for what I did, I am owning my difficult decision, and I did it because I felt it was the right thing to do at the right time.
But my messages went unanswered. Worse, they went unread.
The clan was so busy that my misery went unnoticed by almost everyone. Ryan was the only one who shot me concerned glances, who encouraged me to eat, who made me lattes that went untouched.
I sometimes saw him with Nicolas, but I had no idea what they discussed. I doubted it was anything about me.
I checked the folders that Nicolas used to catalog his research and ideas hourly, but I didn’t understand a word of what he noted down. Ryan, Teng, Irina, and Cameron also commented occasionally or added material, but I didn’t understand any of that, either.
Some magician I was.
I couldn’t even tell if they were making progress regarding Daniel’s predicament.
I hoped against hope that they were, because I was clinging to the idea of Daniel harder than I’d ever clung to anything in my life.
Daniel would come back. Daniel would talk to Nicolas. Daniel would help me sort out my problems with Stephan. Daniel would fix everything.
It was unfair to put this all on the mere concept of my best friend, but I couldn’t think of what else to do.
And the dark, hurtful part of myself constantly reminded me that if we didn’t get Daniel back, I’d broken Nicolas’s trust for nothing at all. When that vicious thought rose up, it was all I could do to stave off a full-blown panic attack.
I asked Chandra for some Xanax
because I was too afraid that Irina would tell Nicolas, and even just having the tiny little pills in my hand eased my roiling stomach and tight chest.
I frequently sat alone by the gates of the property, staring out at nothing, wondering if maybe it would be better to leave this all behind.
Maybe it would make Nicolas happier.
Maybe it would make me happier.
“Do you think there’s an end to the ocean?” I asked Daniel, pointing into the distance.
The two of us were in the sanctum, lying on the grass at the beach’s edge, looking out.
“Magical theory says that sanctums exist in a finite space,” he replied, twisting the long blades of grass around his fingers. “A sanctum is like a really, really powerful magician. A million times more powerful. But it’s still limited.”
“It can’t act on its own, though,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but only because its container is inert.” Daniel flopped onto his back. “Our sanctum is attached to a spelled piece of glass. If it lived in a human who could think, that would be different. Like a commander.”
“Mm,” I agreed, closing my eyes.
Being with Daniel in the sanctum was the only time I was happy. He didn’t force me to talk about Nicolas or our progress on getting him out. He didn’t even inquire about my bleak moods or shadowy red eyes. He simply held my hand and cheered me up by chattering about all sorts of things.
“Are you happy, Dan?” I asked after several minutes of our silence.
“Happy?” he repeated, his dark eyes falling on me curiously.
“Here,” I clarified. “Are you happy with this… existence?”
“It’s not the worst,” he said, shrugging. “Beautiful place. And I don’t wake up often without one of you being here. So… it’s not bad.”
“But?” I asked. I could hear his unspoken hesitation.
“It’s not real. I know that. Whatever this is. It’s… waiting.”
I shook my head, trying to help him find the right word. “Limbo?”
“Yeah, that,” he said. “I’m stuck. And I’m not even sure what I am. You guys say I’m Daniel, but… I don’t have a body. How is that possible? Maybe whatever this is… it’s just a mistake.”
“A lot of famous philosophers believe that the mind is separate from the body,” I said. “Nicolas agrees with them, according to my limited understanding of his research, anyhow. He thinks your mind is here, intact and thoroughly you. We just need to get it out.”
“But you’re worried you can’t,” Daniel said. “You’re worried that you can’t get me out, and that I also can’t stay here.”
“You know I worry about everything.”
He smiled slightly. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Um, sorry, but I’m your lieutenant,” I said. “It’s my job.”
He laughed and smacked my shoulder. “You’re a commander now. If I get out of here, I think I should work for you.”
“No way. I can’t wait to shuck this pinnacle member thing.” I shifted, my heart turning heavy. “I’m sick of leading. I’m sick of making decisions, especially when they end up being wrong. I wanted to help you and Nicolas, but I never wanted to do all this.” I waved my hand around at nothing.
“My delicate flower,” Dan teased, but his smile dropped when he caught my expression. “You need a break, Fi. You’re letting all of this overwhelm you.”
“It wouldn’t, not if I had Nicolas,” I said.
Dan frowned, throwing an arm around me. “Don’t give up on him.”
I sniffled. “What if he gives up on me?”
“Then he’s a fucking moron,” Dan said. He peered at me closely. “Did he break up with you?”
“It feels like it. I haven’t had a lot of breakups in my life, but when your boyfriend calls you stupid and reckless and then won’t talk to you or look at you, that seems pretty final.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Dan said.
“No. Don’t.” I shook my head vehemently. “I don’t want him to think I’m being pushy. I’m trying to give him space, even if it’s killing me. Just… we’ll see.”
But something deep in my bones, the same thing that was exhausted by magic and Lightning Clan, told me that my instincts were right.
The opening that Nicolas had given me to love him and integrate myself into his life had been closed up, walled off, forced shut.
And I was alone again.
I was in the gym, trying to exhaust myself so that I could sleep, when Athena popped her head in.
“Fiona!” she called, loudly enough to be heard over the sound of the elliptical machine.
I grabbed the handrails, slowing myself, my feet coming heavily to a stop. “Yeah?”
“Nicolas wants us all,” she said. “He says he figured it out.”
No need to specify the “it” we were talking about. And not a moment too soon—I’d been up in the middle of the night attempting to soothe another surge from the sanctum that blew out all of Ryan’s fine-tuned instruments. He’d have to spend months rebuilding some of them.
So of course I was eager to hear Nicolas’s results. I shot up off the bench, snagged my water bottle, and jogged to the door.
When I made to go through it, she thrust an arm out. I started back, my eyes finding her greenish-brown ones.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’m tired,” I said quickly. “I was up all night.”
She shook her head, glancing back toward the soubou. “That’s not what I mean.” She raised an eyebrow at me.
“He’s under a lot of stress,” I said. I hated the words, hated that I was somehow covering for him, for us.
“Wouldn’t that mean he needs you more?” Athena asked, squinting at me. “You’ve been staying in your room.”
I opened my mouth. I wanted to tell her. I did. I wanted to pour my soul out to someone who was actually real and present in my life, but I couldn’t. All the people here had been handpicked by Nicolas. They were all loyal to him. He’d practically saved Athena’s life back when she was struggling to tame her own prophetic dreams, back when she’d discovered she was allergic to them and needed help managing her symptoms. They still talked frequently, running together and eating lunch, as they’d done for years.
It was hard to believe she’d take my side if she knew Nicolas’s current problems with me.
So when my words finally came out, they were mechanical and forced and completely fake. “You know Nicolas. He’s weird.” I shrugged stiffly, ducking under her arm and heading toward the soubou, ignoring her slight sigh as she followed me.
We were the last ones to arrive in the meeting room, and I crammed myself on the couch between Chandra and Keisha. Nicolas noted my entrance, but his eyes didn’t linger on me for more than a moment before he turned back to the whiteboard.
I studied his movements, noting his stress. Stubble coated his jaw, his hair was unstyled, the muscles of his arms were taut and tense below his rumpled, rolled-up sleeves—all small signs that he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than his work.
Was he simply absorbed by this problem? Or was he, like me, throwing himself into things in order to smother his misery?
“I’ve put my notes and strategy outline in the shared folder,” he said without preamble. “But here is the brief description of what we’ll need to do.”
He held a dry erase marker elegantly between two fingers and sketched out a bulleted list along with a rough diagram.
“When Daniel created Lightning, he poured himself into the magical inversion that generated the sanctum. The magic accepted his life along with his magic because, in that particular case, his life felt like magic to the inversion. Daniel’s life and magic were so close in their nature that the inversion essentially made a mistake, recognizing them both as the same thing. It’s continuing to make that mistake—Daniel remains in the sanctum because his life force is indistinguishable from magic.”
Nicolas spread his hands.
“That is the essence of binding life to magic: understanding how to modify their fundamental building blocks to be as similar as possible. It’s about taking life’s shape, so to speak, and fitting it into magic in a way that allows magic to accept it.”
His eyes traveled over each of us, and he seemed at a loss for how to go on. Finally, he cleared his throat. “As close as Daniel’s life force and our clan’s magic seem to be, they aren’t the exact same. Unfortunately, their differences are causing the instabilities we’re seeing in the sanctum.”
“All right,” Ryan said. “So that explains how this happened. How do we undo it?”
Nicolas smiled, although not broadly. “We force the magic to reject Daniel’s life force. Right now, they are bound together because the magic wants to hold on to it, and the life force has nowhere else to go. We do two things: we get the magic to reject Daniel, and we give Daniel someplace to go.”
“Um,” Keisha said, looking around the room at all of our blank and confused stares, “you’re going to have to explain for the stupid people in the room, please.”
Nicolas laughed dryly. “None of you are stupid.”
I frowned. Except me, the person you called “stupid” several times.
Nicolas flinched slightly but went on without glancing at me. “It’s not about being stupid or smart. This sort of work with magic is… very complex and very hard to conceptualize. It’s not physical, it’s metaphysical. In some ways, it defies the realities that we experience with magic, because magic on that level can act completely differently. Think of quantum physics—how atomic and subatomic particles don’t work the same as the world on a macro scale. The magic we’re talking about is essentially subatomic, and it requires a different perspective and different handling.”
Keisha rolled her hand as though saying, Well, get on with it.
“Stephan’s research provided me with the keys I was missing for how to force life and magic to bind or unbind. Now that I have that, we simply need to execute a plan. We essentially need to alter the connections between Daniel and our sanctum’s magic enough that the magic rejects him altogether. And once he’s been rejected, we need to pull his life force back to us, using a type of net, bringing him here and settling him in the real world.”