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Zero Sum

Page 44

by B. Justin Shier


  “Rei,” I said flushing, “I barely have any mana.”

  “Nonsense. Think of the tower. How on earth did you manage such a spell? That cast involved at least three different effects—wefting, middencraft, and manifestation—and you used the blood of a Nostophoros to power it. I don’t think that’s ever been attempted before. It takes all my focus just to move a bit of mana. For you, it is just a matter of setting your mind to it.” She looked over to me, her blurry eyes pleading. “And there is something else, something I cannot even begin to place my finger on. It has troubled me since the day I met you. There is this otherness to you.” A cold shiver ran down my spine. Hara. Rei was talking about Hara. “And your blood, Dieter. My God, do you have any conception of how it…” Rei covered her mouth and turned away from me. Her tears were flowing heavy now, but I didn’t know what to do. Was Rei angry with me? Did she hold me responsible? I didn’t understand where she was coming from. I didn’t understand the challenges she faced. I couldn’t fix this. I was the wrong tool for the job.

  She drew in a tense breath and looked out across the field. “They are coming,” she said quietly. “I mustn’t be seen with you. It is time for me to leave.”

  “For how long?” I asked—but I already knew. I was acting the fool. The stupid jokes. The useless conversation. I was avoiding reality at any cost.

  “I have been withdrawn, Dieter. My time at Elliot has come to an end.” Wiping the tears from her eyes, Rei flung her Elliot robe to the ground. A piece of chalk fell out of the duffle coat’s pocket and settled in the snow.

  “Rei…” I took a step forward. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “Yes, it does.” She raised her shoulders and firmed her features. “I am Bathory. I shall return to face my father. I will confess my wrongdoings and bear the punishment for my actions. This is my duty. I will fulfill it.” She looked at me with the same ragged determination I’d seen in the warehouse. “This is goodbye, Dieter.”

  “For good?” I croaked. “But, Rei…I thought we were partners. I thought…” I knew my words sounded pathetic, but a crack inside me was growing. I could hear the thuds of my heart against my chest. I could feel the pressure building behind my ears. It was stupid, really. I couldn’t be with Rei, but the thought of letting her go…

  “Dieter. I must.” Rei looked resigned. Like she was quitting.

  “Fine. Then I’ll follow you. I’ll testify on your behalf. I’ll convince them that you acted in the best interest of—”

  Rei answered my words with a bitter laugh. “Convince them? I have committed treason, and you, Dieter Resnick, the son of the most notorious alguacil of the modern era, intend to act as my sole character witness? Are you mad? Have you any idea how many of my kind your father has killed? Tortured?” Rei laughed again, but it sounded more like she was being strangled. “The gods love comedy, do they not?”

  I felt sick. “You’re saying that my being there—”

  “Would worsen my fate tenfold. Did you think that Anna had not thought of that? Do not act a child, Dieter. Anna is the daughter of Erzsébet. She would not have acted against me if she thought her scheme could be foiled.”

  It hit me like a bat—Rei was slipping away from me. There was only one last thing I could try. Desperate, I went to mouth the three words. But I couldn’t speak them. As they reached my tongue, they fell away like stones. I couldn’t will them into being. They were easy words. Simple words. Words you hear every day. They’re sung in near every song. They’re thrown about like spare change at the movies. But they can be the hardest words, the hardest words in any tongue, when saying them is what really matters. I wanted to shout them to the heavens. I wanted to scream them at the top of my lungs. Instead, what I said was, “Rei, I don’t want to feel that hole again.” I heard the words come out but couldn’t believe I was speaking them. “The way the link grates…I don’t think I can bear it.” I wanted to tell her to run. I wanted to say I’d stay with her always. “The books say we could go mad.” I felt like I was dying inside. I wanted to tell her I’d get her free of them. I wanted to swear it on my soul. “Don’t go, Rei. You have…friends here.” And I found myself a coward.

  Rei placed a solitary finger over the tips of my lips. “What did I tell you about making oaths?” Had she heard me? Did she know? Her eyes pleaded silence, begged me to stop. I realized then that Rei was stronger than me. She could leverage her will against the pain. “Grub. Listen, and listen well. You do not understand this game or its rules. You do not know what is after you or how it can get at you. You are outclassed, underpowered, and inept—and you are the bravest fool I’ve ever met.” Rei’s cheeks flushed red, and every muscle in my body tensed. “And you are my friend.” She cupped her hands around my cheeks. “And you are my partner. Forever.”

  With a hint of salt and a rush of lavender, her frozen lips met my own.

  And then Rei was gone.

  And I stood in a field alone.

  And I crumpled into the snow.

  And I screamed at the dark, empty sky.

  I clutched at Rei’s empty robe with my shivering hands. Groped for the warmth that wasn’t there. And I cried. Stars above, I cried. I cried, and I cried, and I cried. The tears came from a place that my memories could barely reach, from a time of such profound sadness that it lived only in the deepest mists of my mind. The time of her last touch. The time she walked away. I fell into a deep vat of dreadful muck. It crushed me, suffocated me. And that reminded me of Anna. Reminded me that she had done this. Ripples of her cruel laughter wafted over me. A final gift she’d slipped into my mind. And that’s what drove me mad.

  Roster found me at daybreak. He didn’t speak a single word. He just propped me and helped me home. I recall someone warming up water to treat my frostbitten toes, but my mind was in utter shambles. I hadn’t realized what a weft-link really was until ours had broken. I understood now what John Riley felt as he stared into the dead eyes of his partner. It felt as though I might dissolve—as though my mind might give way and crumble.

  With only madness waiting inside, I turned my attention outward. I focused on Jules’ humming, Roster’s laughter, and Dante’s strumming. The waves of withdrawal came and went, but my friends were always beside me. Ichijo’s words helped me steady my breathing. Jules’ old teachings helped me find my center. The pain didn’t lessen, but over time it became more familiar. I accepted the gut twisting emptiness as my new normal, and I reminded myself that she was facing it too. I reminded myself that she had no friends to guide her, but that she too was still fighting. Her bravery steeled me. It became my footing as I pieced what was left of me together.

  “Forever,” she had said.

  “Forever,” from a creature that could say such a crazy thing and mean it.

  Her last word made me feel warm. It calmed and soothed me. It gave me a sense of determination I’d never known before. If I was outclassed, I’d train harder. If I was underpowered, I’d get stronger. If I was inept, I’d study longer. Forever. Forever was something I’d never had before. Forever was a fountain of hope. We would meet again. We had all the time in the world. That belief…it made me want to stand. It filled my limbs with fight.

  END OF BOOK 2

  Acknowledgments

  The surgeon slid the thin piece of steel into the patient’s skin for the last time. The line of sutures was perfect. The patient would have to squint to see the scar. The surgeon gave me a nod, and I extended my shaky fingers. Snip went my scissors, leaving two stubs of 3-0 vicryl behind.

  “Nice close,” I said through my sweat-soaked mask.

  “Mmm,” she muttered. Even during the trauma cases, I’d never seen her raise an eyebrow.

  I went to remove my gown. After sixteen hours in the OR, all I wanted was a date with a urinal.

  “One last question, Mr. Shier.”

  I froze. Not again. This surgeon had been pelting me with questions through the entire bloody surgery. I’d known the abdominal
vessels front and backwards, and she’d still managed to stump me.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  The nurses paused in their work, eager to watch the medical student squirm.

  The surgeon removed her mask, and her steely eyes met mine.

  Perfusion to the stomach is provided by the left and right gastric arteries, the left and right gastro-omental arteries, and the short gastric artery. The left gastric comes directly off the celiac trunk, but the others…

  “When’s the next book coming out?”

  I blinked. “Sorry?”

  “The sequel. I just finished the first one on my Kindle.”

  “Oh.” I gulped. “Um…soon?”

  “Oh, great. I really liked Rei.” Her brow furrowed. “Don’t you dare kill her off.”

  I shivered. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll try not to.”

  I write because I love the rush of unwrapping a story in my mind. It’s my way of decompressing. The way I deal with the hard realities of my job. But I also write for readers. Readers who are waiting for the next volume. Readers who are invested in my characters. That knowledge weighs heavy on me. I don’t want to let them down. But I should be grateful for the added stress. It’s forcing me to become a better writer, just like all those tough questions in the operating room help build the next batch of doctors.

  Much of the good in this book can be attributed to my dear friend and editor, Jon Steller. We might both be in medical school, but we still spend our nights dreaming of dragons. Jon is not afraid to tell me when something I write sucks, and he’s big enough to ‘encourage’ me to change it. There are no good books without good editors (that’s a dirty little secret that every author knows), but it is also true that editors can only fix so much. Jon did his best. Any remaining crud I must own.

  I’m in Jordan Kimura’s debt for her hard work on Zero Sum’s cover. Countless readers have taken a chance on my writing because of her engaging designs. I’m confident this brand new cover will deliver bushels more.

  I want to send out a big I’m-not-worthy to my beta readers: Sheela Damle, Karen Shier, Nicole Steller, Rombod Rahimian, Trevor Pelton, Stephanie Lago, Stephanie Kong, and Stefanie Mooney. Next time, I’ll try to remember the difference between ‘breath’ and ‘breathe’.

  Finally, to Mrs. Meera Shier: Dear boss, thank you for tolerating all my hijinx. And, yes, you did inspire a certain character…although you have a much better sense of fashion.

  About the Author

  Brian Justin Shier was born in the New Jersey and spent his childhood in Las Vegas, Nevada. He went to college at Washington University in St. Louis, where he studied psychology and marketing. Degree in hand, he moved to Los Angeles to seek his fortune. There, he worked in business for a few years before deciding he needed a career change. He is currently pursuing his MD somewhere in Southern California.

  For news about the author or the Zero Sight Series, check out (www.bjustinshier.com). There he blathers on about random things.

  Want to know exactly when the next book is going to be released? Sign up for the B. Justin Shier New Releases Email List at http://www.bjustinshier.com/p/email-list.html.

  If you enjoyed the trip, please let other folks know about this guy’s novels. Indie authors sink or swim by your advocacy. It’s up to you to tell us what you like.

 

 

 


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