by Posey, Jay
“Ideas?”
“It’ll be good for you too,” Kyth said. And then she got serious, serious in a way jCharles couldn’t remember ever having seen her. “I mean it, Twitch. I owe you.”
“Kyth–” he said, shaking his head, but she wouldn’t let him finish.
“No. I still owe you. I’ll owe you to the day I die and beyond. Bonefolder’s been a thorn in your side a long time, I know. Least I can do is pluck it out.”
jCharles didn’t know what to say in response. Kyth didn’t give him much time anyway.
“And maybe get rich in the process,” she said, and she drained her drink, got up off her seat, and kissed him on the cheek. “See you around, neighbor.”
“Yeah,” jCharles said. Kyth turned and walked towards the front door. “Hey, thanks for not destroying my whole town,” he called after her. She waved over her shoulder without turning back, and then disappeared through the door onto the street. jCharles shook his head. His life had become exceedingly strange indeed.
* * *
They’d made the decision on their own, though Wren had been the one to prompt it. Cass had been reluctant at first to leave Greenstone. They had friends there, friends so good they might as well have been family, but Wren had made some good points. They’d both changed so much, so quickly, he said, that he wanted to get away, just the two of them, and work things out together, the way they used to do. And he had someone he wanted her to meet. Someone he thought could help her.
The goodbyes had been easier this time around, since everyone fully expected to see each other again sometime soon. All of them except when she’d gone to see Mouse, and he’d pulled her aside, and laid his heart bare to her.
“Mouse,” she said, blinking back the tears that his gentle words had brought. “Mouse, I do love you. I do. And it might be cruel to say it, but if I made a list of qualities I wanted in a... relationship, like that, well. I think it’d pretty much just describe you. But my heart isn’t in a place where I can love you the way you deserve. Not right now.” She reached up and touched his face. “You deserve better than I can give.”
“Maybe you could let me be the judge of that,” he said. Cass smiled, took her hand away. Shook her head.
“I can’t ask you to wait for me,” she said. “Don’t wait for me.” He smiled sadly when she said it.
“I don’t reckon I have much say in that, Miss Cass,” Mouse said. “Been telling my heart not to love you for a long time. Hasn’t listened yet.”
She didn’t know what to say to him then, so she’d just hugged him, and thanked him for all he’d ever done, and then they’d said their goodbyes. They left in the morning, Wren leading the way northward, and eventually eastward. He wouldn’t explain much about where they were headed, but Cass didn’t need many clues. She knew enough about the high level that she didn’t need the details.
They took travel at an easy pace, and Cass was amazed at her son; how perceptive he’d become, how clever, how confident. Over their five days of travel, they talked through all of the experiences they’d been through while they’d been separated. Cass didn’t understand all of it, for either of them. But Wren was able to talk her through a lot of techniques and share insights she didn’t even know he possessed. With Asher gone, she didn’t seem to have to worry about any reintegration with the Weir, but Wren said the man they were going to see would be able to tell them for sure.
Asher was still in him, somehow. His consciousness. His personality. Trapped in some portion of Wren’s mind. But Wren was already learning to control that portion of his brother, or rather, of himself now. Asher still had some power, Wren suffered frequent tormenting nightmares. But even just over the course of the few days they traveled together, these too he began to tame. Even so, his hope was that the man they were going to see could help him too.
They reached their destination just before sunset, but instead of completing the journey, Wren had asked if they could spend one more night out in the open. They lay together there on the roof of a long-abandoned building, side by side, his head on her arm, with the Weir roaming the ground below. But neither of them were concerned. Neither of them had cause to fear the night. Not anymore. The stars above shone brilliant against the sky, a spray of diamonds on a velvet sky. They stayed up late into the night, talking about whatever came to mind. Enjoying each other’s company. Enjoying, for the first time maybe ever, true peace.
Cass smiled to herself.
“He promised me this,” she said. “Did you know that? Did I ever tell you?”
“Tell me what, Mama?”
“The night you went into the Vault, and you fell. When Jackson took you. Three carried me up to the maglev line. And when we got to the top, the sky was full of stars. Just like this. And I said I wished you could see them, and he said you would, one day. He promised.”
“Three was pretty great at keeping promises.”
“He was,” Cass said. They sat together in silence for a time.
“What happens now?” Cass asked.
Wren thought about it, seemed to be weighing his answer carefully. Then he said, “I think I’d just like to be a kid for a little while. If that’s OK.”
“Of course, baby,” Cass said, as the tears welled. “Of course that’s OK.”
“Just for a little while,” he said, and then added. “I still have a lot of work to do.”
“We all do, sweetheart. But there’s time. Time enough to make things right. To make things new.”
“Kind of like a new day,” he said.
She drew him close to her.
“Just like.”
Acknowledgments
As always, this book could not have appeared in your hands in its current form without the help and support of a great many people. I won’t give you the entire lineage, but here’s a pretty good subset of excellent folks that helped me throughout the writing process. My most sincere thanks to:
… Jesus, for your limitless grace and great faithfulness.
… my wife and children, for your constant love and encouragement, for your patient understanding, and for being my most favoritest thing in the whole wide world.
… Marc Gascoigne, Phil Jourdan, Mike Underwood, Caroline Lambe, and everyone else at Angry Robot for all their long-suffering patience, general excellence, and the coolest orbital platform in the known galaxy.
… Lee Harris, for suddenly deciding to take a chance on me.
… Dan S, Z, Legion, and Luke T for being seriously cool fans.
… and all the folks out there who stuck with me to the end of the trilogy.
About the Author
Jay Posey is a narrative designer, author, and screenwriter by trade. He started working in the video game industry in 1998, and has been writing professionally for over a decade. Currently employed as Senior Narrative Designer at Red Storm Entertainment, he’s spent around eight years writing and designing for Tom Clancy’s award-winning Ghost Recon and Rainbow Six franchises.
A contributing author to the book Professional Techniques for Video Game Writing, Jay has lectured at conferences, colleges, and universities, on topics ranging from basic creative writing skills to advanced material specific to the video game industry.
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jayposey.com • twitter.com/HiJayPosey
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An Angry Robot paperback original 2015
Copyright © Jay Posey 2015
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US ISBN 978 0 85766 421 1
EBook ISBN 978 0 85766 449 5
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