Maybe Fate: A Novel (New Adult Paranormal Romance)

by Brint, Cynthia

  “What's wrong with him?” I asked, not moving from where I stood.

  “It's just the lingering effects from being brought back into a new body. He'll be fine, just let him have his space. All that matters is if he's ready.”

  I wasn't sure if that was all that mattered.

  Turning away from his emotionless face, I followed after Ethlyn and entered the house that, even with all of us filling it, still felt ominously empty.

  ****

  “It's very simple in concept,” the Corpse King explained, gesturing with his hands in the air. He was seated across from Ethlyn and myself, the three of us surrounding the large dining room table. “We'll be able to shift into the twaelin realm, then move into her palace quickly. From there, we shouldn't have much blocking us from reaching the Queen herself.”

  Lifting my hand, as if I were still in school, I waited for Valenforth to look my way. “I'm probably missing something obvious. Why can't we just shift or whatever into the actual throne room? Wouldn't that be faster, and give us some element of stealth?”

  “If we could, we would do so. Now, we—”

  “Why can't we do so?” I asked again, cutting him off.

  His boggling stare was almost funny, in my mind. I wished Ethlyn was enjoying it as much as I was, but he had his head on his arms on top of the table, looking like he'd rather be asleep.

  Valenforth gave me a considerably long squint, but when I didn't even flinch, he simply sighed and shook his head. “You're too forward in your current state, Gale.”

  “Am I?” The idea was interesting, at best.

  “Yes.” His mouth twitched down at the corners. “The reason we can't just appear in her throne room is a matter of energy recognition. The Queen has built herself a small pocket, a place entirely made from her own power. The only things that can appear within it must be from her, the source of the tiny, private realm.”

  “I see,” I said, understanding it better than I predicted I would. “Alright. So what's next?”

  There was a chance I was pushing him too far. I could feel the waves of frustration aimed at me, yet I still didn't care. Maybe I was too numb, maybe I was just confident that he would do nothing to hurt me.

  I am his secret weapon, after all.

  Setting his palms on the table, Valenforth spoke crisply to Ethlyn. “Once we are there, if we face any obstacles, you'll have to take care of them. Do you understand?”

  Raising his head just enough to show he was involved in the conversation, Ethlyn nodded. His long hair was falling over his face, hiding some of his features, but the downtrodden cast to his eyes was plain as day.

  “When we face the Queen,” Valenforth said, pointing at me. “You must stay focused. She's deadly, as you know.”

  Touching my stomach, I felt a quiver of sickness recoil through my head. “Yeah. I've got that part.”

  Ethlyn looked my way, eyebrows wrinkling with such shame it penetrated my dulled wall of emotions.

  Again, why does he look so sad?

  “I will fight her if it's needed, as I expect it will be.” Valenforth went on, ignoring the private moment I had shared with Ethlyn. “The second she is down, incapacitated, you must strike, Gale.”

  Suddenly, my hands felt very heavy as I stared at them. “What if I don't remember how to do that?”

  “How to what?”

  “How to kill her, how to use this power I have?” Flexing my fingers, I once again stared at the grime under my nails. “I can't—my memory, it's so weird. I don't remember how I...”

  Before I went too far down my unsettled path, Valenforth leaned close to me, speaking soothingly. “Gale, calm down. It will be easy. All you have to do is touch her, touch her energy, and the rest will happen naturally.”

  Meeting his sympathetic eyes, I set my hands back in my lap. “You're sure?”

  “I have to be sure.”

  Watching him in silence, I remembered his words from when I'd first awoken earlier. If he wants all the twaelin dead, then... Shooting a glance at Ethlyn, my voice went flat. “And what happens next, after we destroy her?”

  “Then,” he mused, pulling away in one graceful motion, “like I told you, the twaelin will be gone.”

  I thought Ethlyn might react, but he didn't. He didn't move an inch.

  Inside of myself, I felt a twinge of... guilt? I couldn't tell, whatever it was made me raise my voice, slap my hands onto the table. “Hey,” I said at the moping young man. “Is that okay with you?”

  Lifting his sapphire blue eyes, Ethlyn watched me with lethargy. “Why wouldn't it be?”

  “He's said he wants all the twaelin dead. That means you, too.”

  In answer, he shrugged imperviously.

  The warm burn of righteous anger faded, put out by his lack of caring. Valenforth, when he spoke again, did so with a gentle voice. “It is how it should be. Death is the ultimate goal, and one we can finally achieve.”

  Holding my belly, I bit back my desire to point out the humor in him bringing me back to life, just so I could bring them all destruction. “Fine,” I muttered, unsure how to not feel some disgust at them both. “Then I guess it's settled. Tomorrow, you both get to enjoy what it's like to die. Aren't you lucky.”

  Pushing my chair out loudly, I stalked out of the room, not surprised they didn't call after me. I wasn't sure where I was even going.

  The house was huge, the size reminding me of the first time I had come there. Back then, I hadn't even known what Mr. Birch—Valenforth—really was. My feet took me down a hallway, into a back area that revealed itself to be a pantry.

  Lifting my brows, I turned in a circle to take in the sight of all the canned foods, cereals, and dried fruit. There was a sense of something being wrong.

  The twaelin don't need to eat... why would Valenforth keep all this food here?

  Touching a box of frosted corn flakes, I turned it over, looking for the expiration date. This doesn't make sense. Setting it back, I wandered the room some more until I found a small door.

  Pushing it open, I flicked on the switch, illuminating the place below. The cellar was well maintained, the stairs hardly creaking as I descended.

  At first, nothing seemed out of place. My skin was chilly with the rising sense of unease, but there was still no obvious reason.

  The walls were covered in wine racks, as well as coolers used to store perishables. It was the work of someone who liked to be prepared, it reminded me of my own mother's logic. She'd buy things on sale and shove them in our small freezer all the time.

  Wandering closer, I was amazed to feel my heart thumping. I hadn't felt any real, strong emotions since Valenforth had brought me back to life some hours ago. It wasn't as fully fleshed as normal, but I felt something.

  Standing over the coolers, I had a ghastly idea that I might find something terrible inside. My mind went wild, conjuring images of dead bodies kept on ice.

  I was relieved when my shaking fingers pulled the cover aside, finding nothing but bags of vegetables and a few whole chickens.

  Sighing, I closed it off and looked around again. The cellar struck me, once more, as immaculate and clean.

  In one corner, though, I spotted something that was out of place. Inching over, I saw in the dim lights the hard edges of square frames.

  Pictures? I wondered, brushing the edge of one with my finger tips. Who keeps their photos in a basement?

  Turning one around, I didn't find any dust on the glass. It was clear that the large wall hanging I was looking at, a photo of a smiling woman with perfect teeth, had been hanging somewhere until recently.

  Looking down into those faded eyes, flipping it around to stare at the next one behind it, I finally unders
tood. I knew why there were framed pictures in front of me, hidden away in the cellar.

  The food made sense, when you thought about this being a home belonging to a husband and wife.

  Valenforth wasn't masquerading as an English teacher all this time... He consumed Wallace Birch, and then just took over his life.

  Covering my mouth, I wondered if I would have become ill if I had felt truly like myself. If I hadn't been so distant, so detached, would I have been more unsettled?

  I'm pretty freaked out, even so. How could I have been so naive? The signs were there. An empty home, the blank spots on the walls where he took the photos down. Did he kill her, then? Where did she go?

  I clutched the sweater I had on, groaning at my clarity. This is hers, isn't it? I died, he needed clean clothes for me, clothes not stained in blood.

  I hadn't even know Mr. Birch was married, he just taught my English class...

  What will happen when people notice she's missing?

  Shaking my head, I forced my legs to carry me out of that basement. Everything felt wobbly, my knees acting on instinct as they bent to remove me from that scene.

  I was outside, through the back sliding doors and sitting on the grass, before I knew it.

  Hugging my knees, I put my forehead on top of them. I'd missed everything, been tricked entirely.

  And what does it even matter, now? Valenforth killed at least two people, pretended to be one of them... and now he wants me to kill him, anyway.

  So why does it matter, knowing this now? Wouldn't I crave for a chance to destroy him, any other time? It's in my hands, the ability, and he WANTS me to do it.

  I'm getting the opportunity to rid the world of two insanely dangerous murderers.

  Why do I still feel so helpless?

  The cool air on my skin felt good, not at all like the icy fingers of coming winter. I didn't hear the footsteps, but I felt the presence seconds before he sat down beside me.

  “Hey,” Ethlyn whispered.

  “Hey.” The response was automatic.

  We sat there together, neither of us making a sound. My pants felt rough on my forehead, I noticed I was pushing my face into my legs as hard as I could. Inhaling through my nose, I forced myself to lift my head, to look over at the twaelin beside me. “I found the pictures in the basement.”

  He met my eyes, nodding without any surprise. “I'm sorry you had to find out at all.”

  “Are you?” I asked, crinkling the bridge of my nose. “You were content to let it be, then. When did it happen, when did he kill them?”

  His blue orbs flicked to the grass, like the fresh dew was the most interesting thing. “The night I dropped a sign on you.”

  The spark that shot through my brain continued on, down to my belly. “Before that, he was still just Mr. Birch?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sliding a palm over my face, I tugged at my thick hair. “So he and his wife, they're dead because of me.”

  Ethlyn jerked his gaze back to me, reaching out like he wanted to grab my shoulder. Instead, he left his hand hanging awkwardly, like I couldn't be touched. “No! No, it isn't your fault. He's the one who chose to kill them. I told him he didn't need to do it, he could just have me keep watching, and...”

  My mouth straightened. “Did you tell him that before or after you consumed Ethan?”

  There, that sadness. It came back full force, his hand falling down from the air. “You're wrong about that, you don't know the situation.”

  Turning on the grass, I gripped the ground tight by my legs. “Then tell me,” I demanded. “Explain it, because right now, I'm having trouble finding one redeeming thing about you monsters.”

  He didn't blink when he lifted his eyes to meet mine. “There is nothing redeeming about us. We deserve to be destroyed, we're nothing but terrible blights on the world. But you're still wrong about what happened between Ethan, and me.”

  Leveling my eyebrows, I watched him closely, daring him to continue.

  Ethlyn took a slow, calming breath. Then, he began to speak. “Before you came around, I did little in this world besides sit. I would sit, and I would watch everything, and I would seethe.

  “I knew little joy, because the world is cruel. Humans are born, and then you die, and in between you do little but suffer. You're weak and helpless,” he said it so matter-of-factually. I wanted to interrupt him. To tell him he was wrong, except...

  Except I wasn't so sure, anymore.

  Closing his eyes, he hesitated. “Then one day, sitting in a park, I saw something. There was a group of children, and they were all picking on this one other kid. He wasn't tinier, or weaker, than any of them.” Looking up, he stared at the sky above, the blue fading away as day approached. “Even so, though I could see no difference, they beat on him. Finally, I overheard what they were saying. They were calling him weird, stupid, useless... and all because he was the only child among them without a family.”

  Glancing at me, he saw the way I flinched. “No family?”

  “Right. They said he came from the orphanage, and they were cruel to him just for having no parents, no one. It was... strange. I guess I must have related to him, in my own way.” Laughing bitterly, he brushed his long hair behind an ear. “I watched him, after that. For years, I just watched him grow up. I was rooting for him, wishing he'd prove them all wrong. That even without a home, without loved ones, he could find a purpose... find happiness.”

  Shivering, I crushed my legs tighter. This story was striking too close for me. It was obvious, too, that Ethlyn felt a similar pain. Did the twaelin truly feel like they had no homes, no family? Or was it just him?

  “Anyway,” he sighed, gathering his words. “Over time, he grew up, and while some things got easier... most things didn't. He was never adopted, I don't know why. He lived in that orphanage until he ran away one day, when he was seventeen. No one looked for him, no one cared. Just me, I was the only one.”

  Ethlyn went quiet, a long moment that made me tense with worry. I thought whatever came next, it couldn't have been good.

  The thousand yard stare in his eyes, as he finally looked my way and whispered, told me enough. “One day, years later, he fell for a young woman. When that happened, he seemed so full of life. So ecstatic. I was excited for him, it was ridiculous. When she didn't respond to his advances, I suppose that was his breaking point.

  “He was handsome, he worked hard, but it didn't matter to her. Nothing mattered.

  “Seeing him under that bridge, swallowing all those pills... I'd never sat and watched someone committing suicide. Not in my hundreds of years.”

  Hundreds of years...

  My chest hurt, every muscle like an elastic. I hadn't blinked for some time, my dry eyes fixed on Ethlyn in horror.

  “I decided to show myself to him. I appeared, and he looked at me, and thought I was actually an angel.” His chuckle was so gritty, so raw with barely held together despair. “He asked me if he could finally feel what it was like to be happy, now. He asked me why the world was cruel. I didn't know what to say... he was dying, after everything, just giving up.”

  Wrenching his head away, he held his forehead tight. “I didn't know what to do. So I asked him, if he could do it all over again... do it and be strong, powerful, get everything he wanted out of life... would he want to try?”

  My lungs ached for air.

  “You can guess what he said.” Lifting his palms, he spread his fingers. “He told me, 'of course.' If it meant he could do it right, he wanted to leave the world with a better memory. Better than finding him under a cold bridge, dead at the age of twenty-one. So I held his hand, and I told him I would do that. I would do that, for him.”

  The smile that spread ov
er his face was on the verge of shattering. “You know what I did. You know how we work, Gale. I sucked him up, every bit of him... I became him. I swore I would become the Ethan that he couldn't be. I'd be a better human, how could I fail at that? How could that even be a challenge?”

  I felt the tears on my cheeks, but didn't remember when I'd started crying.

  There was a hint of something in his face, an oddly familiar dementia; wild, unstable. “But you're right, I'm still a monster.”

  “No,” I breathed, shaking so hard it was a challenge to reach out to hug him. “No, you're not! He was already dead, Ethlyn, he was...” I understand now, I get why he—that day, the cafeteria, he was trying so hard, for so long, to just be human. To live the life of someone else, FOR someone else.

  He let me embrace him, but he didn't return it. I felt my warm wetness stain his shoulder, before he gently forced me away. “You're wrong. I'm a monster, and a murderer. But tomorrow, that will all be done with. This wretched life I've tried to live will be gone. I'm not Ethan anymore, and I was a fool to think I could ever really be human. All I want to be, now, is nothing.”

  I wanted to say more, to argue with him, but in a flicker the twaelin had vanished.

  Sitting there in the yard, I stared at the place he had sat beside me.

  Finally, the world felt as cold to me on the inside as I thought it should on the outside.

  Chapter 23.

  Nethiun

  I'd been circling the city for hours, trying to get a read on Ethlyn. It was like he simply didn't exist, making we wonder if, perhaps, Valenforth had never revived him at all.

  There was no need for rest, no desire for it. If Ethlyn was out there, I would find him through sheer determination.

  If Valenforth was my only thread on the path to confirming my suspicion, I'd defy all logic and track him down instead.

  I knew the Corpse King had taken up residence in the city, I'd seen him on the campus. But even knowing that much, having a general idea of where he had made his quarters on this realm, it did little to aid me.