by RS McCoy
Helping Blossom was Eton’s punishment for being his father’s son.
Or maybe there was another reason. “Have you ever disobeyed an order?” She peered up at him from the pool, her legs kicking behind her. She fell still when she saw the shadow drawn across his too-pale face.
Never taking his eyes off his feet in the water, Eton offered her a single sullen nod.
Blossom had not a shred of doubt that the Syndicate—Mercer or her predecessor, Waller—had punished Eton just as creatively as she had Blossom. And like her, it had left its own sort of scar.
She wanted to ask what had happened—what had been worth defying the Syndicate—but she wasn’t sure she really wanted the answer. If it had been anything like the Hammonds, she knew ignorance was the better course.
Instead, she asked, “The Syndicate ordered you to modify my totem, didn’t she? So I’d be Aero?”
Eton’s eyes flashed up with something like shock. His mouth hung open a bit before he recovered. “Yes, she did.”
Blossom looked up at him and cringed. She’d known it, but the words impaled her with the force of a spear. “I’ll try not to hate you forever.” And she would—she would try her best not to hate Eton for following that particular order. But in her heart of hearts, a part of her would always resent what he’d done to her.
“I suppose that’s fair.” Eton studied her carefully as he asked, “You knew?”
Blossom shook her head. “Kaide told me she would.” And in her stubbornness, Blossom had gone to transformation anyway. Stupid, stupid girl.
Eton listed his head to the side and asked, “What happened with him?”
Blossom pulled herself onto the ledge to sit beside him. There was no way she could talk about Kaide and swim at the same time.
And, as much as it gutted her, she wanted to talk about him. It made him feel more real, even if it was only in her head.
She tucked her knees to her chest to ward off the chill, ignoring the water dripping into a shallow puddle around her. “He was wonderful,” she began, a description that was entirely true yet still a vast injustice to him. “He was sweet and kind and so strong,” she continued, remembering the time he’d carried her up a mountain.
“Really?” Eton asked, his eyes as round as saucers.
“Yeah, why?”
“He’s pretty much the jerk of politics. I mean, he’s charming and careful and obviously smart to pull off what he does, but everyone knows he’s just as calculating as anyone, and worse than most. He might not be cruel like Mercer, but he’s just as determined. It’s hard to imagine anyone thinking he was sweet.”
“Well, he is.” Opposed to the turn in the conversation, Blossom pushed to her feet and found her cloak, barely visible in the glow from the pool.
Eton appeared beside her, his eyes intent as he asked, “You liked him?”
Blossom didn’t know how to answer. There was a resounding Yes, that Kaide had made her feel better in their short time together than anyone in the world. But there was also a definitive No. Blossom liked climbing trees and swimming and reading. What she felt for Kaide was so much more than that.
“It’s hard to explain,” she said instead. She finished buttoning her cloak and waited for Eton to take her back to her apartment.
But he stood in front of her with those pale-blue eyes and said, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you’d be happy to get away from him—”
“No, not at all.” In fact, she’d give anything to be back in the manor with her beast. Not just for his books or his fine things or expensive dinners. Blossom wanted the blue-eyed man who understood her better than anyone. She wanted horseback rides to volcanoes and walks through the market. Blossom wanted her life with Kaide.
“Yes, I can see that now. I misunderstood.” He turned and put on his socks and shoes, rolling his pants down to his ankles so he looked put together as always. Only the slight wrinkles in the calves of his pants gave away his previous state. “Ready to go back?”
“Not really,” she admitted. If today was any indication of what her new life was going to be like, then she didn’t want any part of it.
“I’m doing what I can,” Eton said, like he blamed himself for all of it. Then again, he had changed her totem. In a way, he was entirely to blame. “It would help if you’d listen to me. The Aero branch is complex, and there are a lot of rules. I’m trying to help you—”
“I know.” Blossom was no stranger to being the problem. “I’ll try to do better,” she promised for the thousandth time. She hoped she’d be able to do it. She didn’t know if she had it in her to fail again. The image of Helena Hammond’s body flashed across her vision before she could stop it.
“I’m here for whatever you need. I’ll help you be Aero. And when you need a break, we can come back down here.” He motioned toward the subterranean lake.
Blossom searched his eyes for an explanation. “Why down here? Why didn’t you tell me any of this in the apartment?”
“There aren’t cameras down here. No sensors, no scanners. The Syndicate doesn’t monitor these caves.” Eton licked his lips for a moment before he added. “I don’t know whether or not she monitors the apartment, but I know the caves are safe. I won’t risk it if I don’t have to.”
And then, everything about him clicked into place. Eton’s coolness, his mood swings, his constant distance broken by quiet moments of worry, it all made sense. He thought he was being watched. And he thought his actions would be used to harm Blossom, just as Blossom’s actions had been used to harm the Hammonds.
Eton, like Kaide and Hale before him, had been watching out for her when she hadn’t even known it. Like a rockslide, everything she had ever believed about Eton shifted.
I can do this, Kaide reminded himself for the hundredth time.
In the splendor of the Aero Ascension Ceremony, with vibrant white décor, merry music, and a crowd triple the normal size, Kaide was overwhelmed. But standing before the wall-length window centered over the Sacred Mother, Kaide felt some small measure of peace. Her gnarled branches were fully covered in the luscious pink blossoms that marked the spring and summer seasons—and they reminded him of Blossom. Only weeks ago, he stood in this very spot with her, showing her the idol of their realm, the center of their religion, the ancient tree herself. That memory, paired with the general awe he always felt at the sight of the Mother, put him somewhat at ease.
He desperately needed it tonight. His proposal to the Alderai and branch Syndicates went unacknowledged. They would take no steps to address the Prentis. Kaide was less than enthused to spend an evening with those who so blatantly ignored his plan of action against a considerable threat within the realm.
It didn’t help that his mind was elsewhere—with the Mother, if she existed, and with Blossom, who had never really been his.
So Kaide chose to sip the bitter rice mead and keep to himself. Any other time, he would have kept moving. Like a wolf on the hunt, he would seek out each target and discern what he needed from them.
But not tonight.
He had no energy for it. Blossom was gone, and she’d left a hollow man in his place.
“A lovely event, don’t you think, Landel?” Kaide lifted his eyes from his glass and saw the sickly features of Lota Castor. His walnut-brown hair was slicked back, and his moss-green cloak was even finer than usual, but there was no mistaking his vileness.
“Yes, charming,” Kaide replied automatically.
“I was expecting to see Ms. Frane here tonight. Have you seen her?” Lota’s brow had creased in a look that might be genuine concern, but Kaide knew that to be impossible. Lota had only gotten better at hiding his disgusting grin.
“I’d rather not discuss it.” Kaide was hardly eager to air his heartbreak publicly, even to his secret ally. They might share an ultimate goal to see the branch system dissolved, but that hardly made them friends.
Lota shrugged and resumed his usual smirk. “Very well. Have you had a chan
ce to look over the list I sent you?”
Kaide shook his head. Of all the Vice Syndicate candidates Castor had recommended for the Terra branch, Kaide had no particular leanings toward one or another. Castor had offered to let Kaide hold some measure of sway over the position that would soon be vacated by the retiring Vice Syndicate Bartel, but Kaide wasn’t interested in any of them. Another ally in the Terra branch would be a major asset to their cause, but Kaide couldn’t identify a single one who was suited to the position.
Castor hid his disappointment well. “I’ll keep working on it.” That was the last thing Kaide heard from him. When next he looked up, Castor was gone.
That suited Kaide well enough. He was satisfied in his silence. If Mora hadn’t mandated his attendance, he’d be back in Pyrona in his totem form, ending the life of some criminal. Instead, he was stuck at a festival—an Aero festival at that—and all he could think about was how much he missed Blossom.
“Thirsty?” Pruda nearly startled Kaide’s drink from his hand. His provocative Pyro Vice Syndicate compatriot laughed and held out a fresh glass of wine, this one a lovely pink color.
Kaide gladly exchanged his half-empty rice mead for a full glass of strawberry wine. “Thank you,” he said after several large gulps.
“This rice mead is vile. I don’t know how they drink it.” Pruda cocked her eyebrow at him and sipped her drink, as coy and devious as her viper totem.
Kaide couldn’t help but chuckle. It was such a sorry thing to laugh at, and the sensation of humor felt strange after weeks of agony, but Kaide found a sad smile on his lips and his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“It is disgusting,” he admitted.
Pruda smiled in return. The plunging neckline of her too-tight crimson dress accentuated her figure in the best of ways, but it was her smile that caught him.
Like most of their political colleagues, Pruda was well-versed in keeping her emotions in check. Her fake smile came more easily than her real one.
Kaide wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her real smile until now.
But it was gone a moment later. Her deep, dark eyes narrowed, and she winced slightly as she said, “I was very sorry to hear about your bride, Kaide. I can’t imagine—”
Kaide shook the thought away.
“Could I trouble you for a dance?” Pruda set her glass on a nearby table and held her hand out to him, flaunting the flawless tattoo that trailed from shoulder to wrist.
Kaide grudgingly accepted. He was supposed to be showing Syndicate Mora he could still do his job. What better way than to parade about at a festival of his enemies?
Once on the dance floor, Pruda faced him and slid into the formal position—one hand on his shoulder, one hand held in his—but Kaide was struck with the memory of Blossom. How gut-wrenchingly gorgeous she looked. How adorable she was, all stumbles and nerves. How he’d kissed her in this very spot.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Kaide stepped away, crushed.
Pruda grabbed his forearm and held tight. “She’s watching.”
Those two words were enough to make Kaide turn back and retake his position. He refused to let his eyes scan for Mora, but he knew Pruda was right: she was watching them. She was always watching, observing—even when it didn’t look like she was. The woman was far too crafty.
That was half the reason she was so dangerous.
Music filled the cavernous festival space from invisible speakers. All modern songs, all Seraphinian of course. Aero didn’t even have the decency to play live music. Instead, it was all recorded tunes, sounding hollow as they echoed over the dancing crowd.
Kaide forced his feet into motion. He knew the steps well enough, but his heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be dancing. He didn’t want Pruda in his arms instead of Blossom.
But Kaide could do nothing to change any of it. In all likelihood, he would feel this way forever, and the idea terrified him. What if he never recovered from this?
He’d known that first day in the Alderwood. At first sight—at first scent—he knew Blossom would change everything. And she had, only not in the way he expected. Not in the way he hoped.
She hadn’t even gone home. Olin would have detected her had she hid in the Alderwood. His lynx nose was too keen to miss Blossom’s scent. She had simply gone off into the world on a new adventure and hadn’t bothered to so much as tell him she was going.
“What are you thinking about?” Pruda’s question hit him like an arrow, rushing his thoughts back to the present, to the dance.
“Nothing,” he replied, refusing to discuss it—unable to discuss it.
“Your eyes give you away, you know. They used to be a lovely peacock blue. Now, they’re almost black. Anyone who’s paying attention can see you’re not yourself.” Pruda didn’t miss a step as she stabbed him deep in the heart with her words.
“It’s a trick of the light,” he lied. The white lights Aero so favored would have made his eyes look brighter, if anything. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but Kaide couldn’t deny a darkness had grown inside him.
Pruda offered him a knowing smile, and, when the time came to turn her about, she spun elegantly, the black train of her gown sailing around her in a perfect arc. Then, he pulled her back, and she floated into his arms, as she’d been a moment before.
In the last three years, Pruda hadn’t been anywhere near the top of his list of targets. She was Pyro, and when he ascended to Syndicate, she’d be under his control, at least publicly. There was no reason for him to go out of his way to charm her as he did so many others.
Kaide wondered if he’d ever danced with her before. If he had, he couldn’t remember. But now, he was struck with the smoothness of her motions, how naturally she stepped and spun and followed his lead. Despite the fractures in his heart, it felt good to dance with her.
But soon enough, the song ended, and the speakers boomed out, “Good evening!” Kaide and Pruda both winced at the volume of the announcement, and when the voice continued, it wasn’t quite so loud. “Welcome to the Ascension Ceremony for the Aero Branch. Please give your attention to our esteemed Alderai Hamilton.”
Kaide groaned and turned to face the middle of the dance floor. At the apex of the Syndicate Building, the Alderai stood tall despite his advanced age, lovingly accepting the deep bows of the realms elite. Rennel Hamilton was at least seventy, maybe eighty. Kaide couldn’t remember. His skin was a sagging monstrosity that made him look like he’d already lived thousands of years—part of the reason he was so respected. There were rumors in Terra that he was immortal—that he had eternal life granted to him by the Alder Mother, a gift for his devotion.
But Kaide knew better. The Alderai, the most powerful man in the realm and supposedly the direct contact between the Mother and her followers, was a happy recipient of Aero’s leading medical technology. And during his unnaturally long life, he’d done little to prevent the abduction, molestation, and rape of children that ran rampant amongst the leaders of the Terra branch. Kaide guessed the Alderai was directly involved, and that his inaction was a defense to prevent interference.
As the Alderai was the single-most powerful and influential individual in the realm, Kaide couldn’t exactly go around accusing him of anything, particularly such sick and depraved crimes. Alderai Hamilton was a sad old man who’d kept his position too long, and when Kaide was Syndicate, retiring him would be high on his list of changes to make.
Sadly, no one else seemed to mind him. In fact, his flawless moss-green cloaked hemmed in gold and embroidered with delicate alder blossoms hung off his proud shoulders as politicians from every branch looked on in awed reverence around him, hanging on every word that slipped from his ancient mouth.
“Today, we honor the blessed Mother and the ascension of one Audra Mercer into the Aero Syndicate,” the Alderai began. “From this day forth, this daughter will stand with the Syndicates in representation of her branch and her realm in honor of the Mother.
> “As Syndicate, her duties are to her people, her branch, her totem, and above all others, the Mother. She will select three Vice Syndicates to facilitate her decrees across the realm. May I present to you, esteemed guests of the Mother, your newest Syndicate, Audra Mercer of Aero.”
Kaide clapped with as much fervor as the event demanded, and beside him, Pruda did the same. She pushed up onto her toes, leaning closer to him as she whispered, “I wonder how many times that old bag has given this speech.”
Together, they hid their snickers in the noise of the crowd.
Ignoring the speech, Pruda continued, “You know, he was once an apprentice for the Terra branch. Or rumor says, anyway. Then, the last Alderai selected him, though no one really knows why. To think we could have had Bartel for an Alderai. Or Castor.”
Kaide couldn’t hide his cringe. Castor as the most powerful man in the realm? The idea made him want to spew his wine across the dance floor.
But the selection of a new Alderai was one he hadn’t considered before. What if Hamilton retired—by some miracle—and selected someone opposed to Kaide’s plan to destroy the branch system? It could mean serious conflict if it wasn’t handled properly.
His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the new Aero Syndicate as she was ushered to the Alderai’s side to receive his kisses and blessing. Audra Mercer, the person he hated above all others. The person who had personally destroyed Kaide’s totem and left him with this blood-thirsty beast. The person who actively tried to eliminate him from his position, but in doing so, had earned him as her enemy.
And now, she was the Syndicate of her branch. Kaide licked his lips. He would so enjoy destroying Aero. He would relish the look on her face when she watched him incinerate everything and everyone she’d ever loved—if she was even capable of love, that is.
Kaide would have blamed her for Blossom, too, except Blossom had never arrived for her transformation. He knew if given the opportunity to alter Blossom’s totem, Mercer would have done it in a heartbeat. He hated her no less.