Silent Night

by Emma Couette

  I stand in the doorway, mouth open and gaping. There is an underground club in the Resistance. I never saw this coming.

  “We’re in a club,” I say.

  “Yeah,” Bast replies, “not what you were expecting, is it?”

  “Not really. I thought you guys were more formal. If anything, I would expect a ballroom.”

  “Well, everybody has their wild side, Night, and this is where we let it all go.”

  No sooner does he say it than a man stumbles by, sloshing his drink all over the floor just inches from our feet.

  “That was a close one,” I mutter.

  “Terribly sorry, ma’am,” the man slurs, “didn’t see you there.”

  I gape again as I recognize one of the men from the council, who clearly is too drunk to recognize me.

  Assassins below. So much for being sophisticated.

  The man shuffles off, spilling more of his drink as he goes and I avert my gaze. I notice three red doors on the wall opposite the bar.

  “Where do those doors lead?” I ask Bast.

  “There’s a game room, a lounge, and a tattoo parlour,” he replies. “Why?”

  My eyes light up. “A tattoo parlour? You’re kidding.”

  “Nope, one hundred percent serious. You look excited.”

  “I am. Would you... Do you think you could excuse me for a moment? I need to um...touch up my ink.”

  That sounds believable, right?

  He raises an eyebrow. “Now? And wait, you have tattoos?”

  I give him a sly smirk as I walk away. “There’s a lot you guys don’t know about me. I’ll be right back.”

  I lose sight of him as I enter the dance floor, shoving my way through the throng of swaying bodies. I try not to think about what happened the last time I was in a crowd like this, try not to think about what that led to.

  Finally I emerge and steal into the parlour, guessing the right door on the first try. The room is decorated in gray wallpaper with white flowers instead of skulls.

  The tattoo artist looks up as I walk in. “How may I help you?”

  “I need something quick,” I tell her. “A name. I want it just above my ankle. Can you do that quickly? I don’t want it fancy or anything, just normal letters.”

  Slightly bewildered she replies, “I’ll see what I can do. Have a seat.” She gestures to the chair and I flop down onto it. “What colour?” she asks.

  “Black,” I answer.

  When she asks for the name, I whisper it. I sit there silent as a statue, feeling every prick of pain as she inks the thirteen letters into my skin.

  I re-enter the main club area twenty minutes later, after sitting through a lecture on the proper care of a tattoo. As if I don’t already know.

  Ugh, tattoo artists.

  I spend a few gut-wrenching moments scouring the club for Bast, fearing he got bored and left. Then I see him leaning against the bar talking to another familiar face.

  Guild, what is he doing here?

  I duck through the crowds of people and walk over to the pair. When I reach them, I stand on Bast’s other side, not wanting to get too close to Ajax. He notices me right away, and while he doesn’t exactly scowl, he doesn’t smile at me either.

  “I didn’t think you knew about this place,” he says. The dullness of his voice pains me.

  “I didn’t,” I reply. “Bast brought me down. I didn’t think you’d be here.”

  Bast looks uncomfortable caught between the two of us and scrapes his foot across the floor. “Come on guys, can we try to get along?”

  “Bast,” Jax says, hunching his shoulders, “please don’t.” He swirls the drink in front of him, half a glass of amber liquid. I never would’ve pegged him as a drinker.

  “Dude,” Bast replies, “it’s not the end of the world. We’re still the same people we were yesterday.”

  “But it’s not yesterday anymore, Seb. Things have…changed.”

  I swear I can feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, as if his eyes are tattooed on my cheek. I turn my head slightly to catch them. The contact lasts a second before he averts his gaze to the countertop, but it was enough to see the resentment and sorrow and somehow hope, all burning beneath the blue. I wrap my arms around my chest.

  Beside me, Bast is bristling at the name. “Don’t call me that,” he growls.

  “Then stop being so damn optimistic,” Ajax retorts. He slides his glass down the counter, sloshing the contents on the wood, and turns to go. “I’ll be around, if you decide to start talking sense.” He stalks off without sparing me another glance and I can feel my heart crumbling in my chest.

  Assassins below, my damn walls will be the death of me.

  Bast watches Ajax go and then turns back to me. “So that went well.”

  “Are you kidding? That was a disaster. I know I broke his heart, but that doesn’t give him the right to be an asshole to you.”

  “I was being sarcastic,” Bast replies. “He still cares, you know.”

  “What?”

  “He still cares about you, and I don’t think he’s given up yet.”

  “Wonderful,” I sigh. “Look, Bast, I don’t want to talk about him. Can you drop it?”

  “Fine, but you can’t blame me for trying.”

  We fall silent for a moment, and I survey the club. There are so many people.

  “What’s the occasion?” I ask Bast.

  He shrugs, back to his normal self. “There isn’t one,” he replies. “The place is always like this.”

  “So it's like a regular club?”

  “Yeah, we can’t go into the city to have fun, not with the threat of an assassin attack looming over our heads.”

  I wince. “Sorry about that.”

  “Nah, it’s not your fault. Besides, this is way more fun.” He pauses. “Did you guys have anything like this?”

  “Not exactly,” I reply. “We had drunken parties in the Grand Cavern every once in a while, but they turned into drunken brawls pretty quickly. The last one was a couple of years ago.”

  “Then it’s high time you had some fun... some real fun,” Bast says. “Speaking of which...” He trails off and heads to the other end of the bar. He returns with a couple of glasses in hand, half-filled with what can only be alcohol.

  Warning bells go off in my head.

  He grins at me. “Care for a drink?”

  “Not at the moment,” I reply, heeding the orders my mind is giving me.

  “You sure?”

  “Positive, maybe later.”

  He shrugs. “Your loss,” he says and then he downs one glass in a single go.

  I narrow my eyes. "Aren't you a little young to be drinking?"

  As if I have the right to ask that question.

  Bast smiles. “According to the laws of the past, yes, but I live by the laws of the present, which are non-existent. I’m a free person and I do what I want.”

  Something in his voice makes me want to agree with him. Why can’t I have a drink? What harm will one do? What happened before won’t happen here. I’m safe and I can trust my friend to protect me. Besides, I could use the mild distraction. Guild knows I’ve dealt with a lot today.

  Before I can say anything, I notice Bast’s face go pale, his eyes fixed on something behind me. “Oh shit,” he says.

  “What?” I spin around and it doesn’t take me long to figure out what I’m supposed to be looking at. A familiar blonde is making her way through the crowd on the dance floor. She’s wearing a pale blue summer dress that sways around her as she walks.

  “She followed us down here,” I say to Bast, eyes still tracking her motions.

  “You think so?”

  “Of course. She’s been watching me for weeks. I swear if she…”

  I don’t finish the sentence because...because she finds him then. Ajax is facing away from her, but I’d recognize that stance and brown hair anywhere. She rises on tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek.

  He turns, b
ut so do I.

  My skin is burning, along with my eyes as I furiously blink back wretched tears.

  It’s all your fault, what happens.

  My blood pounds in my ears, drowning out the music, drowning out the screams of protest in the back of my mind as I say, “On second thought, Bast, I think I will.”

  He turns to me. “What?”

  “I’ll have that drink you offered.”

  He gives me a funny look. “Are you sure?”

  “Why not? This is a party isn’t it?” I fight to keep my tone neutral, to not give into the rage building in my bones.

  “Are you sure it’s not because of...you know?” He jerks his head in her direction.

  “Just give me the damn drink,” I snap.

  When he hesitates again, I reach out and rip the glass from his hand. Following his example, I down it all at once. I feel fiery.

  Bast laughs nervously. “That’s the spirit, I guess. What do you think of it?”

  “I think I’ll need another to give a solid opinion.”

  His laugh is more genuine as he heads off to get us some more.

  I keep my gaze fixed on the bar in front of me.

  We down our seconds in unison and my brain’s protest dies out as the song in the club changes to something I recognize. “I love this song,” I exclaim.

  Bast raises an eyebrow at me. “You like Skrillex?” he says.

  “Of course,” I reply. “They might be old, but they sure know how to have fun. Come on, let’s go dance.”

  He shakes his head at me. “I wouldn’t have marked you as a dubstep kind of person.”

  Ignoring his words, I grab his arm and pull him onto the dance floor.

  …

  We dance and talk and laugh for what seems like hours. I’ve never felt so alive and free. I lose track of the number of drinks I have after my third and it isn’t long before my swaying isn’t in any way related to the music.

  Ajax rejoins us sometime later in the afternoon, alone somehow, but I mostly ignore him and chat with Bast instead. We play this game he likes to call Who Would They Be? It’s where you pick a person and based on their appearance and body language, you decide who they’d be if Haven wasn’t the way it is, if war hadn’t torn us apart for almost a hundred years.

  I’m actually managing to enjoy myself, until a random girl comes around and drags Bast back onto the dance floor.

  A memory tugs at my mind, but it feels...negative, so I ignore it.

  Ajax speaks as soon as he leaves. It’s the first thing he’s said in hours. “We should go, Silent,” he suggests. “Don’t you think this is enough party for one day?”

  “Oh, come on, it’s never enough party. Don’t be such a Debbie Downer.” I finish my current glass of alcohol and leave my spot on the dance floor just long enough to order another.

  It takes me a bit longer to reach the bar this time. I don’t seem to be walking straight.

  The bartender slides the glass over to me.

  I reach for it, but a hand grabs my wrist. I jump.

  “Don’t,” Ajax says, his voice coming from behind me. He must have followed me over. “You’ve had quite enough.”

  I turn to him, pouting. “Can’t a girl have some fun?”

  “Fun? You call this fun? Silent, I doubt you even remember where you are right now. We need to go.”

  “Don’t be like that. Look, I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.” I rise onto my tiptoes and try to kiss him, but he pulls away, clearly pained. I vaguely remember a similar situation, but the details are faded.

  “No, Silent,” Ajax says. “You’re drunk.”

  “What does it matter? I love you and I want you forever. Don’t you want me?” I’m not even aware of what I’m saying now. My head feels all fuzzy.

  “Not like this. This isn’t real.” He pushes me away gently, but I can’t find my balance. He catches me before I hit the ground.

  A wave of nausea wracks through me. Ajax’s face is blurred and the music is fading.

  Who is doing that? Turn it up, this is a party!

  I hear Ajax’s voice as if I’m underwater. He’s saying something about silence and killing a bast. I’m tired though and don’t want to focus on it.

  When my feet leave the floor and the music fades away to nothing, I’m too far gone to notice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  When I wake, it hurts to open my eyes. Lights blind me and it feels like someone is jabbing a knife into my temple repeatedly. I wince against the pain, but that makes it worse.

  My stomach roils and I groan at the nausea that surfaces in the waves.

  Guild, what did I do to myself?

  I sit up, despite my body’s protests, and immediately lean over the side of what I assume to be the bed. I’ve closed my eyes again against the glare.

  I heave for a few minutes, but nothing is forthcoming, despite my stomach telling me that everything needs to go.

  “Easy, Night,” someone says, “don’t move so fast. The world will wait.”

  A hand touches my shoulder and I realize how much I’m shaking.

  Guild, what did I do?

  Why am I hung-over…?

  And then it hits me.

  Assassins below, I am such an idiot. Have I forgotten what happened the last time I gave in to drink?

  Cursing my stupidity, I lean back in the bed and open my eyes.

  My stomach rumbles under my clammy skin and I shudder at the discomfort.

  Blake’s brown eyes stare back at me. “You’re okay,” she says, “just breathe, and stay still. It’ll help with the dizziness. Here, try to drink this.” She hands me a bottle of water and I reach for it slowly. “Take sips only. It’s not going to taste all that great at first, but it’ll help. If you keep that down, you can have some of the toast.” She nods to the plate on my bedside table.

  It takes me forever to unscrew the lid on the damn bottle and the water tastes like chemicals on my tongue when I finally take a sip.

  My stomach protests wildly and I squeeze my eyes shut as I wait for it to pass.

  “I’m glad to see you’re awake. Jax can stop pacing the halls now in his brooding silence.”

  I cringe and take another swig of water. “I’m sorry. Did he...send you here to look after me?”

  “Yeah,” she sighs, “he thought it would be best if he wasn’t here when you woke up.”

  “I didn’t think he still cared.”

  “Oh, he cares, Night,” Blake says, “make no mistake. He probably cares more than he’d like to admit. He’ll come around in time and then you’ll have your friend back. We all will.”

  But what if I don’t want to be friends?

  I shut that thought down quick and say, “Is he mad at me?”

  “A bit,” she replies, “but it’s mostly Bast he’s angry with. He’s not talking to him and if Bast comes in here, don’t ask about his black eye. He’s really sorry.”

  My eyes widen. “Ajax and Bast fought?”

  Blake shrugs. “It was a spur of the moment thing. Jax was angry and sent a right hook into Bast’s face. Jax blames him for what happened, but I think he also blames himself.”

  I want to sink under the sheets. “Was it really that bad?”

  She nods. “You were mumbling apparently, couldn’t even walk straight. You were trying to have your eighth glass when you passed out and Ajax had to carry you here.”

  “Sadly,” I sigh, “that wasn’t the first time, but we won’t talk about my past with alcohol.”

  I look down at my hands and that’s when I see what I’m wearing.

  “Whose clothes are these?” I ask, frowning at the yellow fleece.

  Blake tries to hide a smile. “They’re mine. Don’t judge them.”

  “But why am I -”

  She gives me a look.

  “Oh. Well, that’s great. How many people saw me? Wait. Don’t answer that. At least I didn’t ruin one of my better outfits…”

  She laughs. �
�Relax, Night. I’m sure your blood pressure is already high enough. How’s that water sitting?”

  I shrug. “Okay, I guess?”

  “Let’s try some food then. It’ll get the alcohol out of your system faster.”

  “If I can keep it down.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Just trust me, would you?” She hands me the plate and I grab a piece of toast. I nibble on it as we continue our conversation.

  “What time is it?”

  “Around nine p.m.,” she replies. “Ajax dragged you out of the Den around four this afternoon and I got back around eight.”

  Well, it could’ve been worse.

  “Have I missed anything?”

  “Not really. You missed what I wish I could’ve been away for. I came back from my shift to find a frantic Ajax sitting at the end of your bed and a drunken Bast trying to reason with him.” She shakes her head. “But that’s enough of that. The point is you’re fine, the plan hasn’t changed, and you’ll be back to normal in no time, and don’t worry about Jax, Night. What will be will be. Focus on yourself and let things happen as they will. If Jax loves you as he says he does, he’ll understand.” She smiles at me.

  I smile back; I like her ability to forget the past and focus on the present.

  “Thank you,” I tell her.

  “For what?”

  “For everything, I guess. For being a friend. I haven’t had many in my life and I appreciate it.”

  She laughs. “Night, you don’t have to thank someone for being your friend. It happens naturally, and I’m glad to be yours. If you need anything, just ask. I need to go get some rest now though, if you think you’re going to be okay. The worst of it should be over. Finish that toast and have some more water. You should try to sleep after. It’ll be better in the morning. I’ll let Jax know you’re okay.”

  “That’s fine and I guess I can try to sleep.” I don’t feel as shaky now. Sustenance seems to be helping.

  She stands up.

  “Wait, Blake,” I say. “There is something I’ve been wondering if you could do for me.”

  “Shoot,” she replies.

  “Do you think you could teach me how to wield an axe better?”