The City of Dreams
Page 7
The world slowed. Ariella felt the blood pulsing in her veins, saw how it would play out: the mayor, with his bullying hands on Jesna again. She knew all to well what it felt like, the incoherent rage and hurt. The shameful bruises.
She was sick of it. Sick of bullies who believed they had a right to hurt others in order to shape the world to their will. And she wanted it to stop. The rage was beating in her blood, throbbing in her head and heart. She started to move towards Jesna, to protect her.
A glass pane shattered as moonflower vines rushed in. They grabbed Endorian as he reached for Jesna, yanking him backwards from her. His strangled cry was cut off as the vines wrapped around his throat.
Ariella started back in shock.
“Is that you?” whispered Jesna, as he struggled with the vines, screaming incoherently through this green gag.
Ariella shook her head. “I— I think so, but not on purpose.” She clenched her fists and the vines tightened in response. She spread them open as quickly as she could, barely even a second later, but not in time to stop the soft crack that echoed through the room. The vines unfurled from around Endorian in response to Ariella’s open hands, and his body dropped to the floor, soft and quiet.
Dread was a heavy weight in her belly, but she fought it as she stepped slowly toward the mayor, disbelieving. The vines rustled as she moved forward, like a dog waiting for a command. She couldn’t look at them—couldn’t look away from Endorian’s body, where his head was flopped over to the side, too far for a normal neck to turn.
It was broken.
She had broken it.
Her breathing hitched. She had killed someone. A bully, yes, but still a person. Shame, and guilt and fear flooded through her body. With the crack, the world as she knew it had ended.
She gave a little scream as a hand landed on her shoulder. Prell. He wrapped an arm around her. “It was an accident,” he said softly, gently turning her chin until she was looking at him. His large hazel eyes were guileless, and they held nothing but understanding and compassion. “You were defending yourself.”
“And me,” said a soft voice behind her. Jesna was looking down at Endorian’s body with dispassionate interest. “You were defending me.”
“I killed him,” Ariella whispered, still in shock.
Jesna’s lip curled, and for a second Ariella thought she’d spit on the body. Instead, she just said, “He deserved it.”
Her voice was so cold, so hard, that Ariella wondered if that ill-fitting grey dress hid even more bruises.
She swallowed and looked from Jesna to Prell. “What do we do now?” Her question was a whisper. Suddenly the thought of being discovered with the body was the worst thing that she could think of.
The loren, forgotten in the chaos, peeked out from under the long tablecloth. Ariella held out her hand to it. “It’s safe now,” she said, and realised that it was true. The world had shifted on its axis. She didn’t yet understand how she controlled the plants, didn’t understand what she’d done with the vines, but it was clear that she did have power. And the ability to use it.
And that she would never allow herself or anyone else to be abused again. She breathed out.
The vines were there, waiting for her. They rustled at her thought, and moved to wrap around the mayor’s body. They snaked backwards, dragging the body through the gaping shattered hole in the glass wall. Then they loosened again, dropping the remains.
A wet thud sounded a few seconds later.
They looked at each other, all three holding their breath. Then Jesna broke the silence. “Sad how clumsy the mayor gets when he drinks,” she said archly, using Endorian’s earlier words against him. “It’s well known in the house that he stumbles when he’s had too much whiskey.”
“What a pity that he stumbled right off the balcony,” said Prell softly, nodding slowly at Jesna.
Ariella looked from one to the other, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. Prell went on, “And what a pity that the Synod thought it would be safe here for the Grace. We’re lucky she wasn’t harmed by such a violent, careless man.”
Jesna nodded, her mouth twitching up as they resolved the story between them, keeping Ariella’s hands clean of blood.
Ariella cleared her throat, looking at Jesna, “Things might be—disrupted—here for a little while, but Yora always needs more help at the Gardens.”
Prell nodded fiercely in agreement. “Yes. She does, and we have more than enough space for another boarder.” He grinned at Ariella then turned to Jesna. Her eyes were wide as she looked from one to another.
Ariella looked at her seriously. “And there is no clumsiness at Yora’s house.”
Jesna nodded carefully. “It might be best if we weren’t here when the body is discovered.”
Prell shared a glance with Ariella. “And we should warn Yora about his clumsiness.”
The loren led the way through the dark, quiet passages of the mayor’s large home, its overly large ears attuned to the slightest sound of discovery. Jesna disappeared on the way down, but was waiting for them in the foyer, a small bag slung over her shoulder. They shrugged into their coats and let themselves out into the night.
Ariella could see the shape of the Endorian’s slumped form on the lawn and shuddered. Jesna took her hand, squeezing slightly. Prell took the other one, and together they made their way away from the Rose Quarter, and its hidden cruelties.
It wasn’t over yet—she knew that their absence couldn’t absolve them of guilt—but it could give them a head start. The warm safety of the Poet’s Quarter waited for them, and together they would weather whatever storm came.
Ariella didn’t look back.
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