by F. F. John
She did say she was here to win and according to Mom, the Seltans are ruthless. I touch my wound gingerly. Could she have shot me? And killed Erhart?
“Since when did you give a damn about Floran? Or about anyone, frankly?” She lets out something that’s supposed to pass for a laugh. She leans forward in her chair.
“It must be hard for you to understand but we men don’t hold grudges the way little girls like you do.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Unconcerned at his insult, she waves a hand in the air. “One thing you shouldn’t forget is that I’m a little girl who’s beating you in this competition.”
A dark smile stretches across his face. “Don’t worry. You’ll never win.” His voice is low and certain. His eyes burn across the room at her with conviction.
Having had enough, I stand. “You could have something to do with Erhart’s death.” I point at Mehrdad. “You practically threatened us after the last competition, saying you’d see how we fared in the Lesser Lands. There’s good enough reason to think you had something to do with this.”
His attention falls on me and we stare at each other. The room descends into strengthening murmurs.
“Enough!” Titan Reffour thunders. “Your petty squabbles do not interest me. My concern is the disrespect you have all shown to myself and to Nome Vesta by leaving behind its scion’s body.”
The castigation has little effect on Mehrdad’s scowl except it moves from me to Adela.
“You do appreciate that retrieving Scion Vesta’s body from the Lesser Lands is going to be a difficult task? We must produce the body.”
“Is that the problem, Nabo Reffour?” Mehrdad pivots away from Adela. “I’ll put in a call to have him procured. My family can afford to pay any ransom.”
The Titan doesn’t miss the intended slight and scrunches his face. Calling a Titan by his first name is taboo for someone as young as Mehrdad. Plus, stating his family can afford a ransom for Erhart’s body, suggests the Reffours can’t.
“This wouldn’t happen to be the same family that failed to protect you at a club tied to your nome?”
The taunt’s impact is to deepen Mehrdad’s sneer. “We still outrank you—and we always will.”
That rankles Titan Reffour, who takes two steps forward before Portan holds him back, whispering something in his ear. The tall woman from the second competition stands behind them and regards us with an unwavering gaze. During the back and forth between Mehrdad and Titan Reffour, she’d stood by passively. Still, I’m certain that if necessary, she would take out half the room before any harm came to her Titan.
“Fall back Nabo Reffour.” Mehrdad stands. “That’s always been your problem, you know? Father always said you never knew your place. You obviously still don’t.” He walks to the door. “It’s been a long day and I need rest. I will make the necessary arrangements for Erhart Vesta.”
With that, he stomps out of the lounge. The rest of us remain seated in shock. I’ve never seen such a brazen confrontation between a Scion and a Titan. And for the Titan to take such disrespect! I don’t know how to wrap my head around what I just saw, save to think that it must be good belonging to the highest ranked nome.
Still, from the lines etched on his face, Titan Reffour would happily lessen our numbers by one more. Nome-rank or no.
When he finally speaks, he says, “Scions and scioness. I apologize that you were forced to witness that … debacle.” He stands by a table and rubs his palm along its surface. “Given the loss of yet another participant, the next challenge will be postponed for twenty-four hours. During that time, I encourage us all to review the actions that led to the horrific results we now must face.
“Scion Erhart Vesta is dead. His mother is a friend of mine and he is …” He pauses and lets out a strangled sigh through taught lips. “Scion Vesta was her only child. In one night, the future of one of our fellow nomes has been drastically cut short. All because you couldn’t obey a simple instruction to remain on the grounds for eight days.”
With that, Titan Reffour leaves the room.
“You are all creating too much trouble.” Portan rubs the side of his head, one hand holding his walking stick. “And, I am way too young to get wrinkles.”
“Is it that you, young people are unaware of what’s going on?” he asks, tugging on the hem of his bed shirt. “Never mind. Our Head of Security, Landen Sohr.” He indicates the giant behind him, “will assign a personal guard to follow each of you for the rest of your stay here.”
My stomach coils in panic. Does this mean I can’t meet with Neith anymore? I fidget uncomfortably and I’m immediately reminded of the cut on my neck when it stings.
“You are all excused, except for you, Scion Talum. I need to speak to you.”
***
Adela, and I wait in the hallway for Seth. One of the guards stands a few feet behind us. Another one is a respectful distance away from James and Ika who whisper between themselves.
“Why are you two whispering like old ladies?” Adela asks them.
James gives her a hot glare. “If you must know, I’m wondering if you’re the one who killed Erhart.”
She doesn’t react to the accusation. I doubt I could remain so collected after being accused of murder.
“You arrived on the roof after he was shot and you stepped over the body as if you didn’t even notice it,” he continues.
Ika nods. “And everybody knows that you Seltans have always been a murderous lot, known for doing anything to get what they want.”
“If that’s the criteria for determining who a murderer is,” Adela says coolly, “then we should consider Mehrdad for the death of your good friend, Loic. He did complain about sharing a suite during the orientation and less than a day later, that roommate of his was dead.”
Ika opens his mouth to speak but says nothing, while James calls the elevator and walks in once the door opens. Ika steps in as does the bodyguard. Mehrdad did complain about having a suitemate at orientation, but would that be enough to murder someone? I look from Adela to James and Ika. Could one of my fellow participants be involved in Erhart’s death? My stomach drops at the possibility and alarm bells buzz in my head. She did warn me not to trust anybody.
“He’s right, you know,” I say. “You could have killed Erhart. There was nobody else on the rooftop when he died.”
“Are you sure?” She stares at me as if waiting for a response. Then, she groans in exasperation. “What reason would I have to kill him? Erhart was no threat to me and besides, killing him so publicly would have been unwise. The punishment for killing a fellow member of the Twenty is death. You should know that death isn’t something I’m anxious for.”
The pain at my neck grows and I no longer want to wrestle with the thought of who killed Erhart. I’m sure we’ll find out eventually. In an effort to distract myself from my pain, I ask, “Tell me, why is it nobody cares that Erhart is dead? Same with Loic.”
“Listen Floran, none of entered this competition to build lasting friendships. We are all here for one reason—to advance our nomes. This Pursual … it’s not personal, it’s about profit.” She shrugs. “Besides, we all knew the risk of going to the Lesser Lands.”
“Huh? No one told me a trip to the Lesser Lands would put my life at risk.”
“I did mention that it was a dangerous place and you should have known that already.”
“Sure, but Mehrdad was so confident we’d be safe. And as for you, all you did was mention pickpockets and rapists, for goodness sake.”
She glances at the lounge door as if willing Seth to walk out. “Well, now you know.”
All at once, I remember something about her exchange with Mehrdad earlier. This seems like a night for revelations and so I decide to seek out another one. And, who better to learn from than a Seltan.
“What did Mehrdad mean when he said that his father doesn’t like Titan Reffour?”
Staring at me as if seeing me for the first time, she asks,
“You really know little about politics and gossip?”
Erhart said something similar only hours ago. Not too long before he lay spread out on a dirty rooftop. Dead.
Pushing away the raw memory, I say, “I tend to mind my business. It’s always worked for me.”
She gives me an indecipherable smile. Her lips barely move but I’m certain I saw a twitch. “As far as I understand, Mehrdad’s father, Loic’s father and James’s father made life terrible for Titan Reffour when he was younger.” She smooths back her white hair. “There’s been bad blood ever since.”
“That’s it?”
“They bullied him,” she replies.
“Oh, come on, Adela.” My patience thins. “There has to be more to the story than that.”
She frowns, considering whether to tell me more. “Fine.” She comes closer so we can speak without the soldier eavesdropping. “Allegedly, when his wife was dying, his enemies blocked him from testing a new remedy that might have saved her.”
“Why would they prevent him from saving his wife?”
“You do know the Pact prevents certain medical practices including cloning, right?”
“Yes.” I’ve read about how scientists took technology too far many years ago. The Pact allowed the Council to arrest those involved. Some were killed and such punishments deterred others from the practice.
“Well the remedy concocted by the Reffours and Mezans included banned techniques and substances—”
“Like what?”
She grimaces. “Do I look like a restorer? I don’t know. Whatever it was, Titan Cyra twisted enough arms to get the majority of the Council on his side.” she whispers. “Titan Reffour’s wife died during childbirth.”
If this is true, how could Neith’s father remain so calm in the face of Mehrdad’s rudeness? Especially when he mentioned his father’s dislike for the Titan. Neith must not know any of this. While we don’t talk about her mom much, she would have surely brought this up by now if she was aware of the circumstances surrounding her mother’s death.
But then, I remember the underhanded way in which I ended up in this competition in the first place. No. Struggling to dismiss a growing suspicion, I remind myself that Neith did that out of desperation to be with me. Not to prevent the Cyras, Saint Esprits and Carres from eventually having an interest in her family’s business.
As I think about it, I can’t blame her for not wanting to be with any of them. Listening to Mehrdad’s callous attitude towards Erhart’s death and the rude way he spoke to Titan Reffour, I can’t see a future for her with him. Nor could I imagine her with anyone else in the competition. None of them love her. Even Seth, though I like him, is only here to appease his family.
The door to the lounge slides open and Seth walks out of the lounge. His face is long and there’s no sign of his usual jovial demeanor.
“What is it?” Adela and I ask in unison.
“My mom.”
Chapter Thirty
Invier
My personal guard jogs at a polite distance behind me as heavy clouds hang low overhead.
When leaving the suite, Seth warned me to get back before the weather turned. Despite his sadness from earlier, he joked about me not getting rained on lest I turn the Pursual into a wet t-shirt competition. My laughter cut off when I opened our door to find two muscular soldiers.
The stockier of the two escorted me out of the building and now, I wonder how I’m going to give him the slip. I’ve got to get to the hidden oasis and see Neith. We have lots to discuss.
My thoughts return to my suitemate. He told me he was the reason our truancy was discovered. His father tried to comm him repeatedly, but failed then reached out to Titan Reffour directly. The Titan rushed back home to Ekebati when a quick scan of our trackers revealed that none of us were in the Participant’s building.
Seth’s father commed him because his mother’s condition worsened and he wanted him to speak to her. Unfortunately, she ended up in a coma. I’d sat with my suitemate as he cried in the early hours of the morning, pained that his trip to the Lesser Lands might have prevented him from ever hearing his mother’s voice again.
Even then, I never mentioned the pass. Two people have died in this competition and I don’t want to be the third, so as far as I’m concerned, that pass is my lifeline. When I finally saw a restorer last night, he told me the bullet missed certain serious arteries by inches. He’d slapped a flexband on my injury, advised me to keep my neck still for two to three hours and told me to avoid the Lesser Lands.
At the time, all I could think of was how close I came to losing my life. I could have been the third dead Participant. My resolve to have that pass is solidified. I don’t care whether Neith’s reasons for getting me into this competition were valid or not. This Pursual has proven more dangerous than its worth.
Thunder rumbles overhead. It pushes me faster and I ignore the persistent throb at my neck. My increased speed allows me to leave the soldier far behind. At the grass wall entrance to Neith’s hidden oasis, I take a quick glimpse but my bodyguard hasn't caught up. I slide behind the wall and hope he’ll rush right by.
Geese wobble at her feet, their beaks pecking at white spots around them. Neith spins around and her features are a canvas of worry. “Are you okay?” She races to me and the gaggle of geese pursue her. “It's all over the news that Erhart is dead and that another participant was injured in Ghitu.”
Her hands search for my injury and when she presses on my neck, I wince. Despite the flexband, the area is still tender. Additionally, given how I feel, I don’t want her hands on me right now.
“Stop touching me!”
Surprise widens her eyes and her lips. Even the geese sense the tension and flee. I myself and shocked at my forcefulness.
“We have a lot to talk about and have little time.” I glance over my shoulder, expecting my guard to show at any moment.
“Yes, we most certainly do.” She punches me feebly in the chest. I flinch, fearing that pain will flare at my neck. Luckily, it doesn’t. “What made you think it was a good idea to go to the Lesser Lands? It's a dangerous place and the rebels—”
“Rebels? What have they got to do with anything?”
“The rebels learned there were scions in Ghitu and saw an opportunity to send the nomes a message.” Her eyes narrow but she soon looks upward as the sky grumbles once again.
Rubbing my forehead, the memories of bloodied walls and wigs cause my pulse to increase. The rebels have been in the news a lot lately even though they are yet to make any explicit demands.
“Are you okay, Invier?” The tone flows with concern and she's by my side, tenderly placing a hand on my chest.
“What did the rebels want?” All the questions I previously had in mind melt to oblivion.
She walks back to the water’s edge and sprinkles a slice of bread onto its surface. I join her and watch the geese gobble away, waiting patiently for an answer.
“Some think they were going to kidnap and kill each of you publicly.” Her voice warbles slightly. “As far as I’m concerned, what they truly want is chaos.”
Such public executions were once a mainstay of terrorists centuries ago. For adjudicator class, we once had to watch a grainy video and discuss what role our current laws could’ve have played back then.
She dusts her hands against each other. “They left hundreds of their kind dead and this was the first attack on a location that wasn’t owned by a nome.” She shakes her head in disgust. “Everyone thought nothing could be worse that what happened at the Mwadui mine. Remember that?”
“Yes, I remember. We were talking via visual comm when it happened.” That was a few months ago; the rebels set off an explosion at the Vesta’s Mwadui mine bringing production to a halt. They destroyed the mine but were careful not to kill any of the workers and there have only been small numbers of victims at any of their attacks.
So why the sudden change in tactics? Why kill so many at Fenix? Was
it that important to get their hands on a couple of scions? Perhaps if we hadn’t gone we could have prevented the slaughter. A whole bunch of nome members showing up at a club with ties to Nome Cyra was probably too much to ignore. I mention the connection between Mehrdad’s family and Fenix owner to her and she rubs her chin in reflection.
“I’m just happy you’re okay.” She gazes off at the water, two lines forming between her brows. “Bel didn't return last night and she won’t answer my call.”
I quint in confusion, trying to figure out who she's talking about.
She catches what must be an absent look on my face and scoffs. “Bel. As in my best friend and lady-in-waiting?”