by Mari Dietz
Her thoughts stopped as she entered the building behind Becks. The temperature dropped, and Nel stood in the same place Vic had seen her last.
“Don’t move around much?” Vic asked.
Nel barked out a laugh. “You’d be surprised at the paperwork I get stuck with now. I wish for the days when I ran around in the swamp.” Nel pushed aside a stack of papers. “I work out here just to see other people during mealtimes.” She sat back and put her dirt-covered boots up on the table. She smirked at Becks’s frown. “But you aren’t here to help me with paperwork. What’s the news? I haven’t seen anything about a scandal in the news reports.”
“That’s because GicCorp has been part of it all along.”
Nel raised her eyebrows but didn’t look surprised. “Ah.”
“You knew, yet you sent me to him?” She stepped closer, but Becks stepped in to stop her.
“Had you disappeared, I would’ve had my answer.”
“Oh, how kind of you to sacrifice me.” Vic glared at her and wanted to punch her in the face. Her knuckles still smarted from hitting Tristan. Apparently, this was how she solved problems now.
Nel blinked her gray eyes. “Sorry, green bean. I have an Order to protect. You joined the wrong team.” Her gaze traveled down to Vic’s collarbone. The bandage covered her new brand. “Looks like they kicked you out.”
Vic felt isolated in front of this woman. “Yes, I belong nowhere. I told you, now you know. Goodbye, then.”
Vic turned to walk out.
“Where’re you going, green bean?” Did Nel sound concerned? Vic did like the coarse woman, but it angered her that Nel wouldn’t do more.
“Over the wall.” Did it matter anymore? No one could do anything, and Vic didn’t want to become a radiant.
“In that dress?”
Vic opened the door. “What do you care?”
The door slammed shut before Vic could leave, and Becks stood in front of it.
Vic crossed her arms. “Tell your guard dog to move.”
Nel strode forward. “Eh, she isn’t very well trained.”
Becks glared at Nel. “Watch it or I’ll pee on you.”
Nel laughed and stood in front of Vic. “No relic and in a dress. I wish you would have chosen my order.” Was Nel impressed?
“It’s too late now. Let me go.” Vic had given her already-known information. She was done with this city.
Nel sighed. “Let me at least get you clothes, and I have something for you from your friend.”
From a friend? “Who?”
“Follow me.”
Where else did she have to go? She followed the leader into a room at the back of the hall. Piles of clothing and personal items littered the room. “It smells like a mog died in here.”
“Hush or I’ll keep this for myself.” Nel held out the relic. It gleamed in the dim light.
“How?” Nel didn’t respond. “Bomrosy?”
Nel handed it to her.
Vic gripped the scythe in her hands. “Oh, Bomrosy, you’ll get into trouble.” How had she known she’d end up here?
“Most likely. Her best bet will be to tell them that someone stole it. I don’t think Xiona will believe it, though, but she enjoys having the tech girl as a pet.” She handed Vic a glass figurine of a cat.
Vic willed her eyes to stay dry. She caught the cold figure in her palm.
Nel dug through a pile of clothes and handed Vic a pair of pants and a shirt.
Vic took the clothes with the tips of her fingers. “I don’t know if I want these.”
“Put the clothes on. You won’t die from the smell.”
“Are you sure about that?” Vic called out as Nel left and shut the door behind her.
She took a cautious sniff of the offered clothes. They smelled like mildew. She quickly undressed and pulled on the borrowed items. She grabbed a pair of boots sitting in the corner. They pinched the sides of her feet. She slid the glass figurine into her pocket. This was all she had left of her sister. She left the messy room behind her. Nel waited outside for her.
“So, green bean, what are you going to do now?”
“I want to see if there’s anything beyond the wall.” Not that she had much choice. It sounded better than giving up.
Nel smiled and walked out a side door, waving for Vic to follow. “Too bad your head got out of your ass too late. It would have been an honor to have you in my Order.”
Vic gripped her relic. “There isn’t any honor as long as the people of Verrin are dying.”
Nel gave Vic an odd look and walked with her outside. “Maybe so.”
19
Emilia
The moment Emilia turned away from her sister, she wished she could follow her, even out to the swamp. If the Nordics lost Emilia and Vic, they might go after them. She didn’t understand, but they wanted one of the Glass sisters. Her hair stuck to the paint on her neck. Tristan stood in the room, covering his bloody nose.
Emilia wanted to smile, but she furrowed her brow and placed her hand on his arm. “What can I do?”
He glanced down at her, and a strange look came over his face. “You would choose me over your sister?”
Did she really have a choice? Verrin would be overrun with mogs without the vitals. Why did he make this personal? Emilia hugged her waist to calm herself. She had only a few moments left of her normal life, then she would find out what it really meant to be one of the chosen. The wait was almost worse.
“I thought you might need help.” She didn’t know how to answer his question. She would only drag her sister down. Emilia had never trained in combat. Her sister couldn’t have been serious about living in the swamp. Her sister wouldn’t really leave her behind in the city, even if she lived in Haven. Emilia wanted to know that her sister was out there, living and finally happy. This was all she wanted. Vic would rather make up conspiracy theories than let her go. Emilia smiled to herself. She would miss her.
Tristan looked himself over in the mirror, wiped the blood from his face, and took out a comb from the inside pocket of his suit coat to fix his hair. The swollen nose was the only sign that something had happened. “Let’s get back to the others.”
Hope rose in Emilia. This would give Vic a starting chance. She didn’t know why Vic had faked being a radiant, but she had a feeling it involved Tristan. “Okay.”
She forced herself to place a hand on his arm and plastered a pleasant expression on her face as she went out into the room full of founders.
She caught her father’s gaze a few times, and he wore his mask well. She wanted to tell him that Vic was okay, but she stayed next to Tristan. Why did he stay so close to her? This was the easy part. After this, she would move to the back of the manor and never see these faces again. Mr. Stone stood next to the bar and laughed, his face red as always. Vic had never liked these parties, but she’d claimed Stone made them worth it, even though he was a jerk. Maddox Stone, his daughter, frowned at her father. She and Vic used to be close friends. Emilia didn’t know if they spoke anymore. The Branch founders bowed their heads as they approached. They never said much and were quite dull. The gossips, those looking for advancement, matches, and deals—Emilia found herself missing this strange life of posturing. The other vitals, also dressed in white, wandered like ghosts. It was like they were dead and trying to accept the fact they wouldn’t exist in this life anymore.
The party wore on to the early hours of the morning. Ethan Nordic called it when Stone passed out, and six imbs carried him out to his vehicle.
“Everyone, say your final goodbyes. Remember, they are with us still.”
“Shall we?” Tristan asked.
Emilia nodded and followed him. He finally took her to her parents. She hugged her mother, and she shook in Emilia’s arms. Emilia didn’t know what to say to her mother to make it easier. She let go, then hugged her father.
She took a chance and whispered, “She’s not.”
She wouldn’t know if her father under
stood, but she’d tried.
She stepped back to Tristan. “Goodbye, Mother. Father. I-I’m honored to be your daughter.”
“There is no need for worries. You’re still with us.” Tristan’s hand tightened around hers.
Emilia forced back the tears that wanted to fall. It was best to go with her head held high.
One more exchange of pleasant expressions and Emilia left with Tristan, her heart behind her.
She let him lead her and the others to the back of the manor. The Nordic house was connected to the commune of the vitals. Two giant onyx doors stood at the end of the hall. It seemed as though they were walking into a tunnel of nothingness. Tristan pushed on the doors, and they swung open with ease. A breeze rustled her hair, and the usual musty scent of Verrin filled her nose. Even with magic, they couldn’t get rid of the mildew and mold that clung to Verrin.
The doors shut silently behind her and the others. This was it. She’d gone through the ceremony. Now she would see what happened beyond the onyx doors. Some stayed silent, and others sobbed in the darkness, their minds filled with goodbyes. What the relic did with their magic, no one knew. Emilia didn’t know if she wanted to find out. They stepped outside to the walled section of the city. Two guards flanked another set of onyx doors. They followed Tristan. Their white clothing glowed like the radiant.
Tristan paused at the doors. “I can only go in so far with you. Once you cross over the second threshold, you will connect with the relic. The others will meet you at the gate and show you to your homes. Thank you for this honor.” His old eyes singled out Emilia.
Shivering, she broke eye contact and waited as the doors opened. They went inside, and the doors shut with a deafening thud. They shuffled forward to the next gate, and Tristan paused while the gate opened. He gestured them forward.
The iron gates clanged shut behind them, and they all huddled in a group, staring into the dim light around them.
“What do we do now?” someone asked.
Emilia turned to look behind her, but Tristan wasn’t there. She stood in the dark. Then figures came out from the darkness, holding lights.
Emilia didn’t recognize anyone. It also didn’t help that masks covered the lower half of their faces.
A man appeared at the front of the group. “Ah, another group of fools.”
With that, he threw what looked like powder in the air. It floated down over them, and the vitals fell to their knees.
The words sunk in as the group grabbed the front line of vitals as they passed out.
Emilia backed into the iron gate as screams filled the air from those fighting to stay awake.
I’m sorry, Sister.
20
Vic
Vic cracked her neck. How kind of Nel to show her the door to the swamp and let the imbs lift the iron gate to let her pass.
The smell of rot filled her nose, and the water bubbled to the surface. In the distance, something splashed. Daylight still shone down from the blight, so she didn’t need to worry about mogs. Yet. She stood on the stone path and gripped her scythe. When she’d made this brilliant plan in two seconds, it had seemed like the better option. Faced with endless swamp, she thought maybe she should go back to pretending to be a radiant.
Vic laughed, and the sound filled the surrounding emptiness. Pointless. If they caught her, they would make sure she became a radiant this time. Out here, she would become a mog. She sat on the stone path to enjoy the bleak scenery of the swamp.
“My sister chose them,” Vic told the empty swamp.
The swamp didn’t answer. After all, a swamp didn’t have answers. Her sister had done what was expected of her to save the city. That was the understanding the founders had with the city. People accepted that the rich sacrificed their children to save them all. Did they know that they were being sacrificed too?
Vic sat helplessly, finally free from her family obligations. Free from any obligations. On her own. Being alone out in a swamp wasn’t what she’d had in mind.
“So this is my life now.” She meandered down the path. “I can steal a boat and go farther, or I can wander on the path until the Dei reapers come through every night.” Maybe she could beg them for food or sneak in and out to empty her gicgauge. If GicCorp closely monitored the charging station or credits, they would know she was around collecting blight.
She flicked open her scythe. “Well, swamp, I might as well go down fighting.”
No matter what she did, it led to crap. Maybe some kind reaper would find her scythe and use it well. Or maybe it would sink to the bottom of the swamp. The last scythe of the Glass house.
She pressed her forehead to the warm handle. “Give me one more battle.”
Her scythe didn’t answer either. All these inanimate objects didn’t communicate very well.
Vic faced the swamp, her feet planted on the stone and her knees relaxed. The sun set, leaving violet swirls of blight above her. The tall magic lanterns came to life, signaled by the growing darkness, and cast a dim glow on the path. Part of her mind screamed at her that she was a fool, but Vic found it hard to care about anything at the moment. Rage burned through her. Rage at herself for not being enough for her sister to leave her duty. Rage for not being born an imb so she could take her sister’s place. Her body went numb as she thought of everything she’d messed up, including judging William for not wanting Samuel to become a mog.
A loud splash sounded in front of her. A dark shape rose out of the water. The waves hit the stone path as it sloshed toward her.
What did she know? Nothing. She knew how to kill mogs, so that was what she would do.
Its large form drew closer. It had a massive head with multiple gleaming eyes that blinked in unison. Two, four, six arms drew themselves out of the water. At the end of each arm, two-fingered hands with long claws protruded. The mog’s thick skin drooped from a life spent under water. As always, the smell of a rotted mog overcame the musty swamp. The stench of dead flesh and bone. Vic placed the blade of the scythe between them.
It paused and smacked its large mouth, filled with small teeth good for shredding. Its eyes focused on Vic, like it wondered why there was only one reaper standing there.
“Well, hot stuff, don’t let me hold you back. Let’s go,” Vic taunted the mog. This would be fun.
It clapped its long arms together, trying to grab her. Vic spun around the arms and cut into the mog. Her scythe burned in her hands as it collected blight. Vic let out a laugh. There was no way that her gicgauge could hold enough blight to end this mog. Did it matter?
The mog pushed itself onto the path and blocked her way. It had long legs, and its upper weight caused it to hunch over. With a burst of strange speed, it flung itself forward, using its arms to propel itself.
Vic balked in surprise. The thing had slogged so slowly in the water. She turned and ran back down the path, though the iron gate would trap her and the guards might already be on the lookout for the woman with the black square brand.
Its feet slapped the stone behind her, and then it yanked on her hair, flinging her backward. She skidded on her back, her hair tangled in the mog’s fingers.
It swung its arms and her body followed, ripping the hair out of her head.
Vic screamed as she fell, her landing softened by the swamp. The cold, dirty water felt good on her sore scalp, but her legs sloshed as she tried to back away from the mog. It wanted to stay on the path where it could attack faster.
Her back was to the swamp where she didn’t want it to be in case another mog appeared.
She gripped her scythe. The situation wasn’t ideal. She couldn’t get back onto the path without the mog grabbing her.
Footsteps thudded in the distance. Vic tried to see the figure.
“Sparks, what in the blight are you doing?”
Kai’s voice broke through the swamp like a beam of hope. He dove toward the mog, blade flashing, and the mog turned away from Vic to face the new threat. Vic sloshed out of the swam
p, pulled herself onto the path, and rolled on the ground. She thrust her scythe at the mog’s long legs.
A large gash showed up on its inky skin, and her scythe filled with blight. The mog drooped as she and Kai slashed into it. Finally, a pile of misshapen bones tumbled to the ground.
Vic took in a deep breath. Her clothes dripped water. Her skin would become permanently pruney at this rate.
“Looking good, Sparks.” Kai held her in his arms. She let the smell of cedar fill her. “I thought … I thought you were a radiant.”
Vic buried her face in his neck. “I might as well be.”
He pushed her shoulders back. “What’s this, some weird sacrifice?” He shook her. “What do you think this will prove?” His fingers tightened against her skin.
Vic hugged herself. “What’s the point? There isn’t much I can do. I lost my sister. I lost my family. I have nothing.”
“We aren’t done yet.” His grip tightened around her arms.
“Oh, are we going to raid GicCorp?”
Kai dropped his arms. “Why not?”
“What?” Was he crazy? Did he think the two of them could take down the organization that ran everything in Verrin?
“I don’t think that’s what we should do first. But why not?” His gaze grew distant. “I think we both know there’s something wrong with GicCorp, but we need to be smart.” He glared at her. “Going out into the swamp isn’t smart.”
Vic snorted. “I wasn’t claiming I was. What’s this big plan?”
“What if we started with taking over Nyx?”
Vic found herself once again showering at Kai’s apartment. This place wouldn’t be safe forever, but maybe long enough to make a plan.