Devil in the Device

by Lora Beth Johnson

  . . . bandaging her knee.

  Zhade shook his head. “Lilibet said they got you.”

  Dzeni smiled. “Mereish my knee.”

  Zhade let out a long sigh of relief.

  “And Skilla?” he asked, looking round. The sole other person nearish was a woman with dark skin and a scarf round her head handing Xana bandages.

  Xana shook her head.

  Something sour turned in Zhade’s stomach. He’d never full liked Skilla, but she hadn’t deserved to die.

  “Where’s Dehgo?” he asked.

  “With Doon, in the Schis—OW!” Dzeni swatted Xana’s hand away. “That’s too tight.”

  “It has to be tight, to hold it stable,” Xana said through gritted teeth, but there was something tender in her eyes.

  “Where’s Andra?” Dzeni asked.

  Zhade shook his head, heart plummeting. “Is she not here?”

  Lilibet twirled in a circle. “She must be somewhere, because she did it! She transformed the pocket into stardust and it healed so many, and it killed the gods.” She came to a stop. “Though it is full sad, since they used to be kind people before they wanted to murder us.”

  “And some of them used to be us,” Xana muttered.

  Dzeni wrapped her hand round Xana’s.

  Zhade didn’t comp what that meant, but he didn’t have time to ask. He had to find Andra. Make for certz she was evens.

  Suddenish, Lilibet screamed. He startled as she ran past him, faster than he imagined possible, and threw herself into Kiv’s arms.

  The big man twirled her round, tears streaming down his face.

  Something in Zhade broke.

  The imprint in his brain had kept him from caring, even imagining bout Kiv. He’d left one of his dearest friends apalace, after holding him there for over a moon without letting him see his promised. How could he have let this happen?

  Would he be spending the rest of his life making up for all the terrible things he’d done under the Crown’s influence?

  Kiv set Lilibet down and started convoing, signing faster than Zhade had ever seen him. Lilibet was practicalish shaking with joy. Kiv caught sight of Zhade and paused, his face going blank. Lilibet trailed off as she looked back at Zhade.

  For a tick, they sole stared. Then:

  “I’ll take you to her,” Kiv signed, and Zhade didn’t have to ask who he was referring to.

  The trip to the cavern was longer than Zhade would have liked, he and Kiv walking in silence. Zhade needed to apologize, needed to start to make things right with his friend, but all he could focus on amoment was Andra. She had to be alive. She had to be. Kiv would tell him if she wasn’t.

  When they reached the door to the cavern, Rashmi was waiting for him, clothes torn, covered in dust and blood.

  “There’s something you need to know,” she said. Her voice was strong and more certz than he’d ever heard it.

  Zhade swallowed. He didn’t reck if he could take this. He didn’t reck if he would survive.

  “Your mam is dead,” Rashmi said. “I’m so sorry.”

  Zhade stood stunned.

  That wasn’t . . . He hadn’t expected that.

  He didn’t reck what to feel. He’d watched his mam die, mourned her death for years, let himself be guided and manipulated into following a life, he now realized, he didn’t want. Then she’d showed up, said she didn’t love him, and now she was dead again? He couldn’t sort through the barrage of emotions that hit him.

  “And I did it,” Rashmi said, wincing.

  Zhade’s eyebrows went up. “Uhm . . . evens . . . how very dare?”

  “I’m so sorry, Zhade, but she was going to stop Andra, and . . .” Rashmi sighed. “She did so many terrible things to me. Both of us. All of us.”

  Zhade swallowed. “I don’t reck that was my mam you killed,” he said finalish. “My mam died four years ago. Whoever that was . . . I don’t reck much of my mam was left in her.”

  Rashmi nodded, tears brimming her eyes, but didn’t step aside.

  “And Andra?” Zhade prompted.

  Rashmi shook her head. “She hasn’t said anything since . . .”

  Zhade pushed past her, through the doorway. It opened up into the largest cavern Zhade had ever seen. Bigger than the full palace. Rubble covered the ground, and a huge tower stood in the center of the room, covered in shiny plating, its tip pointed. It was . . . awe-inspiring, but he sole had eyes for Andra.

  She was sitting on a rock some paces away, her dark hair falling into her eyes. He approached at care, slowish, but full loud she could hear his footsteps. She didn’t turn as he approached.

  “Andra?” he asked.

  She didn’t respond.

  He had memory of her saying she didn’t reck who would come out of that room. That there were too many memories in her head and they could take over. Had they? Was he talking to someone else in Andra’s body?

  He knelt and placed a hand on hers. She didn’t flinch away.

  “Andra, is it you?”

  She looked up, tears in her eyes. “Who’s Andra?”

  Zhade’s stomach dropped.

  He turned Andra to face him. Her expression was wary, but she didn’t move away. He went to take both of her hands in his, but realized she was holding something.

  It was the Crown.

  “It did its job, in the end,” Rashmi said quietish from behind him. “It . . . destroyed the goddesses.”

  Zhade looked back and forth from Rashmi to Andra, his thoughts a jumble, his heart pounding.

  “How . . .” he started, but he didn’t reck what to ask.

  “She held all our memories,” Rashmi said. “And our memories . . . they’re us. And it destroyed them inside her. Mine, your mother’s . . . and hers.”

  “She doesn’t . . .” He swallowed. “She’s not . . . Does she have memory of . . . any of it?”

  Rashmi shook her head.

  Tears spilled down Zhade’s cheeks as he turned back to the girl he loved. She looked so lost and scared. Gentlish, he took the Crown from her hands. It felt . . . empty. It no longer held any power over him. Over anyone. Its job was done. It was mereish a hunk of metal now. He tossed it cross the cave. He never wanted to touch it again. It would stay in this cavern forever to sink into sand.

  Zhade carefulish took Andra’s hands in his and waited for her to look at him.

  “You’re Andra,” he said, when she did. “You’re Andra, and you are the most incredible person in the world. You slept for a thousand years and you woke and you were a goddess and you saved all of humanity. And you’re brill and charred and funny and perfect and I love you.”

  He placed his forehead to hers.

  “Remember who you are,” he pleaded.

  “Andra,” she whispered. “Andra.”

  Tears continued to flow down Zhade’s face. He felt the light puffs of her breath against his skin.

  “I think I’m her,” she finalish said. “But . . . I don’t know for sure. There’s so much missing.”

  Zhade wiped a tear from her cheek. “Then we’ll figure it together.”

  PART FIVE

  AFTERLIFE

  Six months later

  FORTY-NINE

  ZHADE

  The office Zhade occupied was much more comfortistic than either the throne room or the cathedzal. It was small and filled with plush furniture draped with blankets and pillows that Lilibet had made. There was magic all round him. Scrying boards and things that the gods called keyboards. They were a manual way to do spells. One of the newish-awakened gods had offered to fit Zhade with a new crown, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of wearing one again.

  Sides, his face had never full healed, and it was painful enough without ornamentation.

  He hadn’t felt the effects of the imprin
t since the day that Andra converted the pocket to healing magic and rid the colonists of the AI. Since Maret vanished and his mam died for the second time. Or thirtieth or however many times she’d died in however many bodies.

  Firstish, Rashmi imagined Andra’s healing magic had removed the imprint, but scrys showed Zhade still had a bud of magic in his brain. So either the Crown fulfilling its purpose had ended its influence, or Zhade had gotten better at ignoring it.

  The weird thing happened, after they pulled her from the rubble, scans showed that Meta had no bud of magic left. She’d stayed in Eerensed, but mostish held to herself. She’d never warmed to anyone but Zhade, but she was trying. She still wore Tsurina’s body. Zhade had offered to put her back, but she didn’t want to go through the pain again. Instead, she shaved the side of her hair and started wearing common Eerensedian clothes. Now, she looked more like herself than Tsurina. And though she still had her ’implant, she was free of the influence of the Crown.

  Perhaps she hadn’t worn it full bars long. Or perhaps Zhade was mereish unlucky. Either way, he no longer felt the anger and hate the imprint had placed in his mind. It didn’t change all the damage Zhade had done as guv, but it did purpose he could start making things right. And that was what he was working on now.

  A message popped up on his scry from Xana, asking him to come to her apartment in Southwarden for the Solstice celebration. Xana was now governor. They used the older colonial title for a leader, because the position had changed. She wasn’t an absolute ruler. She had assistance from Ophele, the colonist who had helped Xana wrap Dzeni’s wounds. They acted as joint heads of state—the Eerensedians and the colonists working in tandem—and governed with the help of a council, and every few turns, the people would vote on major decisions.

  Zhade loved going over to Xana’s house. Dzeni and Dehgo were always there. It was full obvi to Zhade that Xana was smitten with Dzeni. It was also full obvi that Dzeni was still grieving. But Xana was patient, and Zhade oft caught Dzeni watching her with the expression she used to reserve for Wead. If she was ever prepped to move forward with Xana, both Dehgo and Doon approved.

  Doon was finalish having a kidhood, and it suited her well. She still practiced with her swords, but now she fought against wooden dummies and taught the other kids self-defense. Dehgo was skooling signed language from Kiv, and Lilibet always brought fabric animals for the kids. Doon pretended she was too old for them, but she kept every one of them in a chest in her room. Dzeni shared with Zhade that she even slept with one hugged to her chest.

  Zhade stood and put on his coat. It was made of something called wool shorn from the sheep in the ranching district. He’d never worn a coat before, but the weather had grown chill over the last moon. It had startled the Eerensedians firstish, but the colonists convoed it was a good thing. Nature was healing. Rashmi said the changes in weather were called seasons, and that they would cycle through them each year. It would get colder, but the cold wouldn’t last forever. Nothing did.

  Zhade gathered up some gifts he had been planning to bring to Doon and Dehgo for Solstice. And one extra gift he had tucked in his pocket. He tapped it nervousish, checking that it was still there. He let his office door slide shut behind him, locking it by pressing his thumb to a panel on the wall. This was no blood magic. Instead, the panel looked at minute grooves in his finger that were unique to him.

  The streets were quiet. It was early moren, and with the chill in the air, most people chose to sleep long. The rubble had been cleared, the streets paved with a substance similar to what Zhade had found in the belowground. Many of the old buildings had been torn down, new ones rebuilt in their place. The design wasn’t quite Eerensedian. But it wasn’t quite colonial either. It was something new the two groups had created together.

  The tunnels belowground had been filled in to make the earth more stable. There was no palace, no silver tower. They no longer needed a gods’ dome. Since that day six moons ago, it was easy for Andra to enter what Rashmi called her “AI state” and convert any pockets that came their way to stardust.

  Zhade finalish reached Xana’s apartment. He took a moment at the door to preppify himself. Though he was in a good mood, grief hit him at weird times. He arranged his face in the charming grin he used to throw round. It tugged at the scar tissue at his temple, but he held it in place as he rapped on the door.

  It slid open and there was Dzeni, warm smile, warm hug. She pulled him into the front room, and Dehgo quickish attached himself to Zhade’s leg. He had to strain to carry himself forward, but he didn’t tell the boy to get off. He was giggling and happy. Doon was sitting in the corner and stood when Zhade entered. She didn’t say anything, but mereish walked up to him, saluting him in a way that made it crystal she was now an inch taller.

  Rashmi sat by the fire, her white hair pulled back from her face, her eyes clear and steady. She full time avoided Zhade’s gaze, but he didn’t blame her for his mother’s death. As a fact, he was full grateful she’d saved Andra. And though Zhade recked there were things in Rashmi’s past that were terrible, those memories had been destroyed with Andra’s. She was starting a new life. A human life. She hadn’t discovered what she wanted to do with that life yet, but that was evens. She was deciding her own fate now.

  Next to her were Kiv and Lilibet, who lived next door. Lilibet jumped off Kiv’s lap to hug Zhade. With Kiv’s lap free, Dehgo ran over to Kiv, crawled up, and stuck his fingers in Kiv’s nose.

  “Dehgo!” Dzeni snapped, but Kiv was laughing.

  “Pick your own nose,” he signed.

  Dehgo signed back, “Mom says it’s not nice to pick your nose.”

  Zhade laughed at that, but his laugh faded as he saw who else was present.

  Andra’s fam.

  Which purposed Andra was somewhere nearish.

  The gift in his pocket felt heavy. His palms started to sweat.

  Oz ran at Zhade and threw his arms round him. He was getting too big to do things like that. Zhade tried to hold back a cry of pain, but an oof escaped his lips.

  “Sorries,” Oz said, stepping back. “I’m so excited you’re here! I built you a ’drone so you can race me.”

  “For true?” Zhade said. “If I had recked you would be here, I would have brought your Solstice present. All I have for you now is my charming smile and winning personality.”

  Oz shrugged. “That’s okay, I guess.”

  Acadia, Andra’s sister, was setting the table, a tradition from Andra’s time. She looked up at Zhade.

  “She’s at Dad’s grave,” Acadia said, quietish. “She’ll be back soon.”

  Zhade nodded. “Has she had memory of anything bout him?”

  Acadia shook her head, the movement stiff. “But we tell her about him. I think . . . I think sometimes . . . but—” She shook her head again, and cleared her throat. “Dinner’s ready,” she said more loudish.

  Lilibet dragged Kiv over. Dzeni and Xana started bringing dishes of warm food out of the kitchen. Zhade set Doon and Dehgo’s Solstice presents by the fire and took his seat at the table.

  “I don’t like that you have a fire in here,” Zhade said.

  “It’s evens,” Xana said. “You build stone round it, like akitchens, and you don’t leave it on full time. Andra says it’ll import when it gets colder.”

  “Colder?” Zhade grimaced.

  “Maybe one day it’ll snow again!” Oz crowed. “We used to have the best snow fights, didn’t we, Andra?”

  Zhade looked up.

  Andra stood in the doorway.

  She was dressed in what she called jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair was longer than it had ever been and was tied away from her face. She’d gained back the weight she had lost and her skin glowed. The expression on her face was nearish one he was familiar with. Sometimes, he would see little hints of the Andra he’d recked peeking through.

  She
sat at the table, cross from him. She met his eyes and smiled, and something fluttered in his chest.

  “Food first, or presents?” Dzeni asked.

  “Presents!” Oz screamed.

  Andra flinched. “That’s really loud, Oz.”

  Oz shrugged. “What? I’m excited.”

  They passed out presents, their dinner cooling on the table afront of them. Zhade got something called mittens from Rashmi. Dzeni gave him some of Wead’s old baking supplies. He watched as Dehgo opened the toy Zhade had sorcered for him. It was in the shape of a dog this time, not an angel.

  “I have something for you too,” Andra said.

  Zhade’s eyes snapped to hers. “For true?” he asked, almost feeling shy.

  “Yeah,” she said. Her voice was too quiet, so she cleared her throat. “It’s actually . . . a trip. I know you said you still don’t believe that oceans exist, and I was looking through some of my data and found that I’d traveled to a lake up north. I mapped it out and have a hover ready, and we can . . . you know, go whenever.” She looked down, blushing.

  “I’d love that.” Zhade felt his heartrate pick up. This was the first time she’d suggested spending any time alone with him since that day six moons ago. They had been dancing round each other, awkward, shy, for twice as long as he’d recked her before she lost her memory. But circumstances since hadn’t forced them together as it had then, and Andra passed much of her time getting to reck her fam again. And Rashmi and Lilibet. Zhade also, but he didn’t want to push anything. He cleared his throat. “I got something for you too.”

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small cylindrical conduit. He held it out to Andra, and when she took it, their fingers touched.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “It’s . . .” He cleared his throat again, acutish aware that everyone at the table was watching him. “Rashmi skooled me how to download my memories. I reck they aren’t your memories, but they are my memories of . . . well, you.”

  He held his breath.

  Andra’s eyes began to fill with tears.