“My esteemed colleagues will explain the rest to you. Finish up your bath. It is nearly time.”
Chapter Twenty Three
Decisions
Brier crept closer to the door. Garelle had led Khaya in a few moments earlier and no guards stood outside the room. He hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. They were about to deliver Khaya’s sentence.
And once she was dead, it would be his turn. He wasn’t worried about pain or dying. He felt like he did when he was a boy and it was the night before his birthday. They never had much money for extravagant presents, but somehow his mother had always managed to give him the best gift in the world.
He’d hoped the hearing would be in one of the ground floor rooms. With the perpetual heat, the windows were always left open and eavesdropping would have been a good deal easier.
Brier cupped his hand and placed his ear against the door. Muffled voices leached through the heavy wood. Meir’s low voice was all but a rumble. Try as he might, Brier could not make out what he said.
“Let him finish,” Garelle’s melodic voice said. “Listen carefully and consider your response prudently.”
Meir spoke again and Brier could once again not hear a word. He held his breath, closing his eyes and willing his heart to be quiet, but the only thing he heard was that Khaya’s life had created ripples through other people’s lives that weren’t meant to be.
Brier already knew that. Surely, everyone knew that – including Khaya. Why are they treading over the path that is already bare of grass? He realised his foot was tapping and he forced it to stop.
He wondered how they would kill her. Maybe they would ask him to do it. The Collectors' strict laws of conduct would most likely prohibit any of them to carry out the sentence. That was, as far as he knew, the reason for the elaborate set-up. If they could have got the lawmen or the Company to execute Khaya, their hands would remain pristine and unsoiled.
A ridiculous notion. If you held a man to sword point and forced him to swallow midnight blossom, you would be as responsible for his death as though you’d run the sword through his heart.
Meir was quiet and so was Garelle. He flattened himself against the door. Khaya was speaking. Brier grunted in frustration. He couldn’t hear. “That is not negotiable,” Garelle said.
What could possibly be negotiable? Khaya must be begging for her life. Trying to come to a compromise. Brier shook his head. She wouldn’t understand that there was no other way. She had to die. Finally, Derrin’s shameful actions would be rectified.
A hand clamped down on Brier’s shoulder and wrenched him backward, sending him sprawling to the ground. Heran loomed over him, face dark. “Get up.”
“I was just going to knock, I –”
“Get up.” He did not raise his voice, but his glare cut Brier off and he stood up.
Heran stared at Brier, his hazel eyes furious. “Come,” he said and strode away, not looking back.
Brier followed without hesitation. His heart hammered in his chest. Heran would be livid. He was not a Master of the Order, but he acted as though he was. What was the worst he could do? Death would be a release. He shuddered. Of course, there was much a man could live through. But would the Collectors resort to torture as a punishment? Surely not.
Heran led him to a small study and slammed the door behind them. “What am I to do with you?” he barked, as he paced up and down. “If you cannot follow orders now, as a lowly human, what will you be like when you are a Collector? When you see yourself as an equal?”
Brier barely stopped himself from sighing in relief. So, he was still to be a Collector. He doubted Heran had the authority to deny him.
“What did you overhear?” Heran asked, stopping in front of Brier and running a hand through his shoulder-length hair.
“Not much,” Brier said truthfully. “I think Khaya was begging for her life. It seemed she wanted to negotiate. Fool girl. Apart from that, I couldn’t hear what they were saying.”
“So, you were about to knock, were you?”
Brier cursed himself. He should have lied. “Yes, I couldn’t help but hear what was being said as I came up to the door.”
Heran snorted. “Stop it. You sound idiotic enough without adding more lies.” He resumed his pacing. The room was only big enough for him to take a few steps before turning, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I swear I didn’t hear anything else,” Brier said.
Heran’s furious eyes fixed Brier to the spot. The Collector studied him, peering at him as though he could see his soul. Maybe he could, Brier mused and was grateful that in this instance he was being honest.
“You'd best hope that I don’t find anything to the contrary,” Heran said. “And don’t think this is the end of the matter. You must be taught a lesson in obedience.” He flung open the door, knocking it against the wall, as he marched from the room.
Brier watched him until he disappeared from view when he turned down a side corridor. One thing he’d realised was that Heran didn’t do things by halves. He wanted to impress the Masters and he was willing to do anything he thought would garner their favour.
If only Brier knew how to kill a Collector.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Khaya stood in front of the two Collectors. Garelle sat in the armchair with her legs crossed and leaning back into the chair. Her face was unreadable, a mask of calm and serenity. Not once during the entire discussion, did that mask slip. For all the world, it would appear as though they were deciding what to have for dinner.
The man, Meir, was another matter. His short dark hair, sprinkled with grey, gave him a distinguished look. He made no effort to hide his loathing of Derrin. Khaya wasn’t sure what to make of their deal. She wasn’t altogether sure she had a choice.
No, that wasn’t true. She could turn them down. Refuse to bend to their will. That option would mean her life would end. Still, it was an option.
Khaya looked from Garelle’s quiet, but dangerous eyes, to the steely gaze of Meir. Her throat tightened. What was she to do? She rose and walked to the window. Crossing her arms across her chest, she stared out. Such a beautiful place where such terrible decisions had to be made.
Neither choice was good. She turned to face them, her mind made up. She didn’t want to die. Not this day. “Agreed.”
Meir grinned. “I knew you would do the smart thing.”
Garelle rose. Was that disappointment in the set of her mouth? “You will be taken back to Arroe. Yarissa will be accompanying you.” She motioned with her hand and Yarissa, who had been standing quietly at the door, led Khaya from the room and out to the awaiting carriage.
Khaya looked back at the mansion as they drove away. One way or another, everything was about to change. She’d made her bed, now she was going to have to lie on it and hope the bugs didn’t come out to bite before she got up.
Chapter Twenty Four
A Gamble
Derrin watched in disbelief as Khaya climbed into the carriage in front of the Echelon’s mansion. She was still alive. It didn’t make any sense. And who was the young girl with her? She looked more frightened than Khaya. In fact, Khaya didn’t look afraid at all.
He’d searched everywhere for her, waiting at Phalio’s house until he eventually stumbled in just after dawn. He’d looked ragged. As Derrin had suspected she would, Khaya had questioned him, then taken off with his carriage.
Up to that point, it had made sense. Phalio had been reluctant, but Derrin managed to persuade him to return to the place Khaya had taken him. The tracks of the carriage wheels were still visible and beside them, blood. Even without having any proof, Derrin was certain that it was Khaya’s blood.
If they had ambushed her, yet kept her alive, there was only one place they would have taken her: To see the Echelon. He was becoming increasingly convinced that the Collectors were in charge of the Company. Somehow. It didn’t make any sense, but none of this did. It was, however, the only explanation for there being a Collector at the mansi
on taken up by the leaders of the Company.
How did their servants see them? What had become of their law of no interference?
A hundred questions ran through Derrin’s mind as he followed the carriage. It was soon apparent that it was heading for Arroe. If they were planning to hand her over to the lawmen for execution, she was sure to be watched closely this time. It would be difficult to extract her.
But he would.
He didn’t come this far, fought this hard, to let the hangman’s noose have her.
As they drew nearer the town, though, he realised the carriage was not heading towards the lawmen’s offices. Derrin followed, readying himself for a fight. Perhaps they were taking her to the Company to be executed there.
Astonished, he watched as the carriage pulled up in front of Khaya’s home. She got out and said something to whoever was still in the carriage – another Collector? – and strode into her house.
The carriage drove away, leaving Khaya alive and well and unguarded, as far as he could see. He resisted the urge to immediately Leap into her house. This could be a trap. Perhaps they had set her free, hoping she would lead them to him.
He would bide his time. He Leapt to a flat roof further down the road. It afforded a good vantage point on the house and the road in front of it. Derrin hunkered down and waited.
Night fell without any sign of activity outside Khaya's house. Wispy smoke came from the chimney.
When it was past the midnight hour, Derrin Leapt into the house. He appeared in the kitchen and stood in the deepest shadows, listening for any movement. It was quiet enough to hear a mouse skitter across the floor.
He prowled through the house, searching each room, expecting a foe around every corner. Finally, he stood outside her closed bedroom door. He deliberated with himself whether to open the door or Leap inside.
He Leapt, appearing in the far left corner of the bedroom, his back to the wall and ready to attack.
Khaya launched from the bed, shrieking. She used her Insight to seize control of Derrin’s body while repeatedly slamming a pillow against his head.
“Khaya! Stop! It’s me.”
She landed several more blows before, breath racing, she stepped back from him. She dropped the pillow, her hands flying to her mouth and she released his body from its unseen bonds. “Derrin, I’m so sorry. I thought they'd sent someone… I thought they'd changed their minds.” She stopped speaking when he burst out laughing. After a moment, she joined in, doubling over and holding her sides as her built-up tension exploded in gales of laughter.
When she straightened back up, she wiped tears of mirth from her face. He put his arms around her, drawing her into a tight hug. “I was so worried.” He held her at arm’s length, running his eyes over her. “Did they hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Their eyes met, her amber gaze holding his. He hadn't realised how worried he’d been until that moment. What would he have done if he’d lost her?
She dropped her eyes away from his and pulled back, her smile evaporating. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
She sat on the edge of her bed, not looking at him. “You never told me.”
“Told you what?” he asked, resisting the urge to sit next to her.
“About my accident.” She ran a finger across the scar above her eye. “The truth.” Her eyes came back up. They held sadness.
He scrubbed a hand through his unruly dark mop of hair. “They told you.”
“They told me.”
“I would have told you. I just felt so… guilty.”
“Mmm.”
“I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn’t think beyond the moment. I watched you playing so high up in that tree. You seemed so vibrant, so free. So alive. When you fell, I –” He broke off, words failing him. How could he explain to her what he’d felt? What an injustice it seemed for an innocent child to die in that way. “I acted out of instinct. I'm not sure how I did it. You hit your head so hard.” He stepped closer to her. “Your whole being started to shine, your soul’s light emanating from your body. I laid my hand on your head.” He traced her scar. “Somehow, you clung on to life.”
“You make it sound as though you didn’t do it.”
“No, you misunderstand. I know I did something, but what happened was a miracle. I didn’t know it was possible. No one knew it was possible. I always believed that there was divine intervention. I believe you were never meant to die that day.”
She sat in silence, her hands in her lap, picking at her nails.
“What did they tell you? You are worthy of life, Khaya. Don’t let them convince you otherwise. As much as any other person, you deserve to live.” When she didn’t speak, Derrin continued. “Why did they let you live?”
“I had to make a bargain with them.”
Derrin took a deep breath, steeling himself. “What did you agree to?”
Khaya swallowed, her jaw working. “I am to become a Collector.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
“What?” Derrin asked. “What exactly was the bargain? When are you to become a Collector?”
Khaya pushed her guilt to one side. “When I die – without their intervention – I will become a Collector.”
“So, they let you go? To live a normal life?”
“Yes, on condition that I stay with the Company.” Of course, she couldn’t tell him of the other stipulation.
He sank down on the bed beside her. “That doesn’t make sense. They spend all this time and energy trying to find you, to kill you, and then when they have you, they let you go?”
“Derrin, tell me about your life. Before you became a Collector.”
He looked away. “Why do you ask? That’s not relevant.”
“I think it is. Please, tell me.” She resisted the urge to put her hand on his. She reminded herself of what was at stake and what she might have to do.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and rubbed his neck. “I had a wife. We never had children. She lost two babes before birth. She died during the second miscarriage.”
Khaya put a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
He shrugged. “It was a long time ago now.”
“What else,” she prompted.
“I was a doctor.” He paused, standing up and walking to the window. He stood with his back to her. “Everything was perfect in my life until the day she died. I couldn’t save her.” He turned to face Khaya, his eyes pools of sorrow. “So many times, I saved people. People who had already seen another doctor, been told there was nothing more that could be done, yet they came to me and I saved them.
“But when it came to my own wife, I failed.” He turned back to the window.
“Then I am certain there was nothing anyone could have done. You cannot blame yourself.”
“I know. Now. When I was alive, I didn't cope so well with her loss. I derailed. Stopped practising medicine, I drank too much. I lost everything. Ended up on the street. I became a beggar, stealing when people wouldn’t freely give me coin or food.”
“Oh, Derrin,” she said, her heart breaking for him.
“Did they tell you why they allow some people to become Collectors when they die?” he continued before she could say any more. “It's a second chance. To right wrongs you did in life. One man that I mugged, I hit him. I didn’t realise how hard, but a few days later, I learned that he'd died. I was a murderer.
“So, you see why I deserved damnation when I died and why it was a mercy to be made a Collector. The same cannot be said for you. You don’t deserve damnation. You’ve not done any wrong.
“So, why have they asked you to become one of them?” he added.
“What you say is true,” Khaya said. “But that’s not the only criterion for becoming a Collector.”
He turned to face her again, his face haunted. “What do you mean?”
“Every single person who becomes a Collector is like me. They have an ability.”
“
That cannot be. I never had any such gift.”
“You did. You might not have realised it, but you did.”
“What? What ability could I possibly have had?”
“Healing,” Khaya said simply. “You said yourself that people came to you – those who had no hope, whom other doctors had told would die. Yet you were able to restore them to health.”
He shook his head. “I would have known if I’d had an ability. Surely, that is not something that would go unnoticed by the person affected. The idea is ludicrous.”
“I’ve been thinking about it, Derrin. The other Collectors didn’t say this, but I think that is why you were able to save me. Apparently, any ability you have in life is amplified when you are made a Collector. Your healing touch was what saved me!”
“I don’t have a healing touch,” he grumbled, shaking his head.
“Think about it. For you to have become a Collector, they must have seen an ability in you – even if you were unaware of it. It fits. It’s the only explanation that does.”
He still didn’t look convinced, but he probably needed a bit of time to get used to the idea. She well remembered the shock she suffered when she first found out about her Foretelling.
“And what this all means,” Derrin said, “is that you can just continue your life as if none of this has happened?”
“Maybe,” she said and quickly continued before he could respond. “What of Brier, though?”
“What of him?”
“What is his motivation? Why is he so passionate about helping the Collectors?”
“Maybe he wants to become one.”
Khaya shook her head. “He doesn’t have an ability.”
“We can’t know that. If I didn’t even know that I had an ability, how can we be sure about anyone else out there?”
“I suppose you have a point.”
“I guess you don’t need me around anymore,” Derrin said, his face unreadable.
“Would you mind staying close? For a while at least, I mean, I am a little unsure –”
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