Or mom?
That rabbit hole had no bottom; if she started to think of her mother, she wouldn’t be able to dig herself out. She didn’t know whether the servants or the thoughts scared her more - probably equally, if she was gonna be honest with herself.
Kindle squirmed in the small chair set out for her outside the study. She felt for Coal at her side, the weapon a comfort in all this madness she felt. She thought of happier times with the pistol instead of the mess she found herself in. Odd that some of her favorite memories were tied to a weapon.
The Caldwells always gave a weapon to the young kids when they got old enough, not a second before. The women and men brought into the family through marriage didn’t quite get it at first. Kindle couldn’t even remember who started it, but she was grateful for them. Shooting gave her comfort, some control. She almost wished she’d left to find something to shoot rather than wait and wrestle with her own thoughts.
Over an hour passed. She had called over one of the servants, asked for a bowl, and finished the rest of her stew cold. The flavor remained the same; a sign of a good stew, as her pa would say. She placed the bowl to her side. Within seconds, the servants swept in and took it, even washed the returned the canteen. Kindle tried to speak with one of them and heard nothing but a humming sound similar to that of a bee. She didn’t try again. She waited some more.
By the second hour, Kindle had lost her patience. As much as she would have loved to channel her father’s unwavering self-restraint, she felt the inner workings of her anger flare again. Funny that you aren’t home when I need ya. Funny how you’re makin’ me wait. Somehow she knew that he was watching. Remy knew that she was here, waiting on his return. This was how Kindle figured a starved dog must’ve felt having a slab of meat dangled outside of their reach. She was ready to bite his throat out by the time he strode into his manor, twirling his cane and smiling with all pearly white teeth. The name the Crocodile made a lot more sense now.
He handed off his long wooden cane, his black tall hat, and plush violet coat - each taken with an artistic flare. Their eyes met from the across the room. Kindle already felt her brow furrowing hard on her face. He knew. She saw it in his eyes, the way he strode through every small detail before sauntering her way. She saw it in the way he smiled, the almost bored expression knowing what this conversation was going to be about.
Ignace’s words ran deep into her head: “There’s only one person that I hate more.” The smell of vanilla and cloves tingled in her nose.
“I honestly expected you to talk with Ignace sooner,” Remy said, voice mildly disappointed, like she stole a cookie before dinner. “What did he tell you?’
“Don’t ya know?”
“Fair enough.” Remy smiled. “Mind if we take this inside my office? If we’re gonna have a messy argument, we might as well not disturb the servants.”
Kindle stood up sharply from her chair, prepared to ask him her questions in front of the whole dang place if she had too. He ignored her and entered his office. She stomped in after him, slamming the door behind them.
The door rattling remained the only sound for a very long time. He didn’t turn to stare at her, didn’t go to sit. Instead, he kept walking towards the large window on the other side of the room and flung it open. The barj rolled over every chair, desk, bookshelf, and lamp in the room like drops of ink moving through pools of water. He stood in front of the door, palms on the pane of the window, standing tall. On another day, she would’ve found him intimidating, or even cool. Today she was too fed up to care.
“I will do anything to protect C’dar,” he began. “It’s my job as the Shadow. No matter how you react, the truth remains the same. You came here on your own to protect your family. I asked you to come for my own reasons. But if it helps you focus, I’ll give you two truths: one you know, and one that you don’t. Where do you want me to start so we can get this over with? Which one would you rather hear first?”
“Did my mom have to leave?”
“The truth you already know then,” he sighed. “Yes. The Shaman can live without the Flame to an extent; never for long periods of time, but it is possible. However, two Shamans can’t coexist in the same space. She had no choice but to leave. The Flame had chosen you. She felt it the moment that she gave birth to you. Given that she still held a lot of power within...she had no choice but to leave. It’s not easy to give the complete power over to one so young; it would’ve killed you. It tried to kill you.”
“Then why couldn’t she come and visit...talk to me at least.”
“Think about it. If she connected with you, she would’ve grown attached and stayed. For the betterment of your life and your development, she left. Can you say that if you and your father knew the truth that you wouldn’t take all your time to find a work around that doesn’t exist? In the end, it would’ve been a waste of time. That would’ve been pointless when the Flame needed to be stoked for the sake of C’dar. So, I convinced her to go. Simple as that.”
“As simple as that...”
“She loved you two, so left and stayed away. Perhaps you can ask her all the reasons. The fact remains she did it.”
Kindle’s mind swam at the thought. Knowing the truth sent her heart throbbing, her mind racing. She reached for the head of a chair and missed, crashing into the ground. There she lay for a sickening amount of time. Her stomach churned, vision turned and twisted. Choked breathing smashed hard against her chest. What else didn’t she know? What else could he possibly be hiding from her?
Kindle forced herself up from the cold ground of the study, the barj cresting over her like the wave of an ocean. There was only one other truth that made sense from here. Her mind dove from coldness to heat; blissful ignorance to stark understanding. She stood, finding her shaking legs.
“You wanted to tell me somethin’ else, ” she said, her voice foreign in her throat. Something she already knew now. “Go ’head. Tell me. I’m listenin’.” I want you to say it to my face. The truth she didn’t realize before became undeniably clear when he wouldn’t turn to face her. “Say it!”
Remy sighed and shrugged. “I brought the Major here and I suspect you know why I did that.”
Everything made sense - the sudden appearance of the Major, their ability to find them and know where they were gonna strike, the constant communications to an unknown person. He led them here, sending everything into motion. What was the best way to get Kindle feeling helpless? Make a situation where she couldn’t back down. Create a moment where she wouldn’t want to feel again. Her cousin was dead ’cause of him. She’d watched him die, surprise on his face and empty red hole in his chest.
A fury like no other filled her. Her hand moved without thought to Coal. Her fingers didn’t quake, her arm never swayed. She fired, the warmth of the gun against her skin and flash of the nozzle cutting through the dark. She wanted to see him crumple over in pain, in death, in shock.
What she got was a laugh.
Remy turned to face her, plucking the bullet from the ribbons of darkness. The inky barj spat out any stray metal or torn cloth from the witch doctor’s clothes. The bastard had the nerve to smile.
“I knew you were going to react like this.” His voice teetered on the edge of woeful disappointment and a complete expectation of the inevitable. “That might’ve killed me, but Old Luke’s obsession to keep the Old World guns relevant robbed you of that chance.” He took a seat at his desk, fingers crossed. “I had no choice. I’m sorry that you had to see your cousin die like that, but it only served to strengthen your abilities. Abilities that the Flame needs to thrive. There are things that you have to do whether you like them or not; that’s the simple fact of growing up. My people have only known this planet. It’s much more than how your family view it - a lucky rock that your family and later your people happened to land on. We’ve done our best to preserve what the original natives intended before the First Civilizatio
n. This was no different.”
“It is,” Kindle shouted, Coal still poised. “You could’ve asked. You didn’t have to put me through the most stressful test you could - ”
“And you wouldn’t have been as strong as you are now.”
“It’s not about that.”
“You won’t say that later,” he laughed. “When this is all over, you’ll be thanking me for the - ”
A sound of crunching wood and bone filled the air.
He stopped talking. Cold.
A smell of vanilla and cloves hit Kindle...followed close behind the coppery smell of blood.
Remy looked down. A spear poked through his chest, its tip glistening in the torch lights. He touched the tip with his fingers, coughing. The barj rippled as though it, too, was in pain.
The dark-skinned man craned his head, blood dribbling down the corners of his mouth.
“What are you doing?” The Shadow’s voice strained against the pain that was evident in his eyes. “Why?” He coughed blood onto his chest and his nice desk. “Why, Ignace? Why now, of all times?” Remy laughed. “What do you get out of this?”
Ignace, standing on the window pane, yanked the spear form his father’s back and tossed it out of the window. The orange robes he wore fluttered inward as he stood, watching his father slowly die.
“You never did get it, did you?” he said. “I made a promise to Ina when she left. We promised not to speak of it. You didn’t even know we still talked, did you? You thought forcing her to give me this,” he pointed to the ugly spiderwebbed scar, “was enough. That pain might’ve been enough to get her spark, but it wasn’t enough to break us apart. I might’ve not liked Woodrow, but the kid was gonna be mine to protect. Doing what you did not only put her in danger, but our entire village. I couldn’t stand by and watch. To admit it even in closed company was your biggest mistake. It gave me a reason, one that I should’ve used a long time ago. You’re a monster, even if it’s for the sake of C’dar.”
“The world needs both a Shadow and a Flame.”
“I’ll gladly take the mantle of Shadow if it means having this moment forever. Now die.”
Kindle stepped back, watching the last threads of Remy Breaux’s life leave him. She heard footsteps outside now. The servants pounded at the door, no doubt hearing the gunshot. She became suddenly aware that she wasn’t supposed to even have Coal. Her throat tightened into a dry rope. She didn’t know what to do. What would happen if everyone thought that she murdered the Shadow? She almost did. She would have, given the chance. What am I doing here? she thought, tears of panic on her face. All her anger and the energy that came with it had left her, leaving a scared girl with no plan. She almost turned but Ignace shook his head.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said, walking over to the body. “You stay here. You need to be here for what happens next.”
Emotions duller than an overused knife, Kindle stood there as the door swung open. Servants rushed in a river of black clothes and white masks. The huddled around the body, making that terrible buzzing sound. Some of the villagers, elders most likely, came streaming in next. Shocked faces filled this dark, cramped space. Kindle tried her hardest to melt into the background and fall into the crowd
They didn’t give her that luxury. They saw the weapon in her hand and a body on the floor. The hole in his chest didn’t match, but in the darkness they couldn’t have known. They’re gonna blame it on me, she couldn’t help but think. It wasn’t the death that bothered her. The feeling of the world falling apart at the seams was doing it for her.
“Don’t worry, I killed him, not the Flame,” Ignace began. He wasted no time sitting in the chair. The hole in the back of the chair or the blood on the cushions didn’t deter him. “He has betrayed us. Raised his hand against the Flame and her family. He left me no choice.” A lie. He hadn’t touched her, hadn’t harmed her physically or threatened her life outside of the trials. “This was an act of self-defense, but also justice against a betrayal to everything they stand for. Remy Breaux has broken one of the sacred laws of our world. He has told an outsider of the Terracore.”
“He did what??” the villagers cried out.
The what?
“In his way, he was protecting us by forcing the hand of the new Flame - Cassandra Caldwell - to get stronger. That core must never get in the wrong hands, but he was willing to risk that for the sake of the planet. He betrayed us. And for that he died.” Another lie. “This young lady tried to confront him and she had no choice but to defend herself. When she couldn’t, I stepped in. Simple as that.”
The room went silent. A few of the servants had recovered enough to take the body away, but the room still smelled of blood. Kindle expected questions; the elders and the villagers asked none. Not all of that story was true, but Kindle reckoned that it was enough. She kept quiet, mouth sour from all the lies. Given the truths she knew, she found the strength to keep quiet. Nothing was different. Given the chance she would have killed him out of the anger she felt from what she learned. Only the hand that killed him changed.
“If what you’re saying is true,” one of the Elders said, “where’s your proof?”
Ignace pulled his pipe from his robes and sucked in the smoke from the White Noise. The barj followed too, slowly inhaled through his nose and mouth bit by bit. He snapped his fingers. The white screen with the weird alphabet flickered above them, raining letters vertically onto the screen. Kindle couldn’t read the words. Whatever it was, it was proof enough the people needed. A few muttered what sounded like some curses. Other than those few, the room fell deathly silent.
“It’s a lot to take in given the craziness of today, but as your new Shadow supported by your new Flame, we have no choice but to act.” Ignace bowed. “We can’t let the Bluecoats and their CEO masterminds touch one of the most sacred things we have left on this planet. We have to aid the Caldwells in their fight. Won’t you agree, Cassie?”
And just like that, Ignace Breaux murdered his father and received only praise for it.
Chapter 15
Gluttony Incarnate
Appetite
“Been gone so long that I forgot how crazy you bastards are.” -- Scott “Tiger” Caldwell
Yup. They took the bait.
Appetite watched from over one of the many hills tearing through the Old City; Tiger let him borrow his fancy binoculars from his ship, the Hua. Working as a smuggler and a bounty hunter in the Dusk Orbit and Early Lights planets, Tiger had picked up more than his share of odds and ends. Weapons were hard to come by, but he shared what he could. It was nice having him back. Sometimes, all it took was time away from the planet. Appetite knew this way too well. A sharp longing to do that all over again struck him hard in the chest.
First things first, we gotta get out of this mess we got ourselves in. The tank zoomed over rolling hills and through the dead and crumbling monuments of a city, ridiculously high-calorie protein bars in his free hand as he rode from the open top. Among the swirls of dust and debris, he watched the men and women of the Civilization comb through the Old City. The Bluecoats followed them like mice catching the smell of peanut butter.
Tiger, Vermin, and Jo strolled up from the bottom of the hill to meet him on the summit. Tiger wiped the sweat from his brow and swatted a bug away from his leather eye patch, gritting his teeth as he strained up the hill. Appetite heard their chatter as they ascended.
“Don’t tell me that the life in the city done made ya soft. Hikin’ giving the old boy trouble,” Vermin teased, ignoring that he too was sweating like a pig running a marathon - maybe even more so. “Betcha have a fancy apartment somewhere, livin’ it up.”
“Y’know that ain’t true, bud,” Tiger muttered, his deeper voice still a pleasant surprise. “It ain’t easy out there. Getting harder and harder to do what I do.”
“Heard you’re getting quite the name for yourself. I wanna meet your cre
w.” Jo patted him on the back.
“We’re making it. The crew didn’t want to come home with me though. Something ’bout backwater planets givin’ them the creeps. They might’ve heard about y’all. Hua can handle herself without a crew. Mulan handles most of the functions anyway.”
“Mulan?” Everyone made a face at him.
“My AI on the ship.”
“An AI ship?” Vermin squawked. “How’d you get one of those?”
“Eh, Mulan had a complicated relationship with her previous captain so I uh...well...removed ’em.”
“You killed the captain, didn’t you?” Appetite asked, finally chiming in.
Tiger rolled his one good eye. “Killed’s such a strong word. And it’s not stealing if the ship wanted to leave.”
“It’s good to have you back, Scott. I really mean that. I wish - ”
Appetite swallowed his words. Kindle would’ve loved to hear about one of her favorite cousin’s adventures. He shook off the feeling. She’s fine. She’s fine, he told himself.
Tiger must’ve seen the the words and worry on his face, ’cause his changed too. The chocolate-dark eye shined with a strong empathy, an inheritance from his father Moses. He sat down beside Appetite, putting a firm hand on his shoulder. Strange how that made him feel better.
“She’s alright, cuz. I know she’s alright. I’ll tell her all ’bout it when she gets back. Right now,” he said as he looked off into the horizon, “we’re gonna have to do somethin’ about all those people on our lawn.” He emphasized his point with a slap on the back. “Eyes on the prize. She’ll come back when she’ll come back. Let’s make sure she has something to come back to.”
Dusk Mountain Blues Page 19