"And your dad," said Keelan, face twisted in rage. "They're always conspiring, like thieves at a lock."
"They weren't looking for him, only Jesse. Something he did, or tried to do," said Zayn.
Keelan collapsed onto the forest floor, head in hands.
"Why! Why did we have to be born in Varna? Why couldn't it have been anywhere else? This place is killing us." Keelan looked up, and his eyes were bloodshot. "This town is gonna kill us one day. We can't escape. Why did we have to be born here? Why did we have to be born at all?"
"We don't have to stay," said Zayn.
"What are we going to do then? We can't leave, and she'll kill our families if we ever do anything," said Keelan, his voice choked with anguish.
It built in Zayn like a volcano. His face was hot, and steam rose from his head in the cool rain. He felt an unspeakable emotion well up, pushing against every cell, a pressure that threatened to burst him into ether.
When Zayn finally spoke, he felt something cleave in him, like the weak and useless parts had slid away. "I'm going to kill her."
"You? The Lady?" asked Keelan, part laughing, his muscles shaking with anger.
Zayn shook his head as he wiped away tears with his thumb, ignoring the rain dripping on his face.
"Yes, I swear it."
"But you can't," said Keelan. "And even if you could, everyone in Varna would die. You're talking crazy."
"I'm not," said Zayn, feeling more clearheaded than he'd ever been in his life. He felt like he was standing on a mountain so tall he was nearly in space and the universe was made visible in its completeness.
"How? You're just a kid. We're just kids," said Keelan.
"I don't know how. Today, anyway. But I'll keep my eye out, keep watch, look for opportunity," said Zayn, tugging at his chest as if he thought he might have a heart attack. He wanted to dunk himself in an ice-cold river. His skin was on fire.
"Opportunity for what?" asked Keelan.
"I wouldn't need too many things," said Zayn, seeing the path in his mind like a river with tributaries rushing in and combining with the head waters until they were a great foamy flood. "I would need to make myself valuable to her so she would trust me. Then I would need a weapon, I guess. Something to get through all the magics and protection. And something to protect myself from her and the Watchers, and a way to sneak up close without her seeing me."
"Even if you could get those things, which you can't," said Keelan, "you're forgetting the most important thing."
"What's that?"
"Not killing the whole town when she's dead," said Keelan.
"I can figure that out later," said Zayn. "One thing at a time."
Keelan, who looked like he didn't quite believe him, said, "You're talking five increasingly impossible things. I appreciate what you're saying, Zayn. I really do. But you'd only get us all killed."
"I might," said Zayn as soft as butterflies' wings. "But is what we're doing right now really living?"
Keelan shot him a look of accusation as he climbed to his feet. "We should go tell your parents. They'll know what to do. Maybe they know what's happened to my dad. They'll have a real plan, not some crazy talk like you. You couldn't even do the first thing, let alone the others. Five crazy impossible things."
As Keelan marched off, tear soaked and weary, Zayn looked back towards the center of town and spoke to himself.
"They're not impossible. And I only have to do the first one for now. I just need to do something valuable for the Lady or one of her friends, maybe find something for her, or eliminate one of her enemies. If I did that, then one thing would be done, and if I can get the first done, why not the rest?"
Chapter Forty-Six
Varna, May 2014
Learning the answer to a question
The promise that he'd made himself so many years ago resurfaced with his consciousness, along with the realization that he was trapped.
The Goon had kept mages as prisoners before. Zayn could tell because his fingers had been individually bound to the wall with clamps so he couldn't move them the width of a single hair. Clamps held his wrists, arms, thighs, ankles, and midsection. A ball gag had been placed in his mouth.
None of this was visible, as the room had no light. Zayn strained against the clamps, finding a secondary reason he would not be escaping. Each binding had a sharp point in the arc—possibly a screw set into the metal—so if he pushed against it, the tip would pierce his skin. It was an excruciating predicament.
Adding to his discomfort was a migraine the size of Kansas. Knockout potions were notorious for post-waking headaches. Zayn could barely string two thoughts together without stabs of pain rushing through his brain.
But despite the circumstances, he found himself in a good mood. He recalled his vow from so many years ago, when Aunt Lydia lost her arm. If he could only get out of the bindings and the room without tearing his flesh apart, and expose the Goon's machinations to the Lady, he could finally achieve his first goal.
He'd been working towards this moment since that day. All those years of running the Goon's errands were paying off, though not in the way he'd expected. He'd thought by getting in good with the Goon, that would translate to the Lady, but now he saw that he'd picked the wrong horse. But he could amend that mistake. No one in Varna would miss the Goon when he was gone.
First out, he thought to himself.
He thought about the spells he knew that could free him—the Academy placed a premium on teaching methods of escape—but he needed both hands to remove the gag from his mouth and then for the spell. Clearly the Goon had done his homework.
Zayn reached to the imbuement and was rewarded with a surge of energy. He wanted to rip himself from the wall in one rage-filled effort, but that would shred his skin and he'd probably bleed out before he could reach the Goon.
Left or right? he thought.
He decided on the right, since he was better with his left hand.
Zayn focused his energy into his right hand. He knew he had to break free the first time, because the damage to his hand would only make it worse on subsequent attempts.
With a grunt, Zayn pulled his hand and arm from the wall. He strained, the razor-sharp screws pressing into his flesh, tearing skin straight to the bone. But the clamps weren't budging. He feared the Goon had reinforced them with runes, because of course he would know about the Academy imbuements. Zayn almost gave up, but he knew if he did, he wouldn't get out, so he kept going.
A muffled cry erupted from behind the gag as he yanked his arm from the wall. When it came free, he blacked out from the pain.
As soon as consciousness returned, the agony of his fingers, wrists, and biceps torn to shreds pounded him. His hand was wet with blood. The screw in the wrist had torn too deeply. He would bleed out if he couldn't get free enough to stop the bleeding.
Using his right hand, Zayn grabbed the clamp around his midsection and yanked. Pulling it away from the wall was easier than he thought. This gave him enough reach to get to his left arm, and it was free within another half minute.
The first thing he did was wrap his shirt around his wrist to stem the bleeding. The spells he knew wouldn't fix a wound that deep, and Zayn was afraid the Goon had magic detectors in the room.
Then he removed the gag from his mouth. It tasted like petroleum, so he spit a few times to clear it away.
To his surprise, the door was unlocked. He found himself in an unfamiliar hallway with framed pictures of basketball stars. In his years of working for the Goon, he'd never been allowed downstairs, so he didn't know the way out.
He went looking for an exit, freezing when he heard a low growl from behind him.
Zayn turned in time for Jordan and Barkley, the Goon's bluetick hounds, to tackle him to the floor and lick his face and wounds.
"Hey, you two," whispered Zayn. "I appreciate the greeting, but I need you to be quiet."
Jordan looked up at him with his black eyes and gave a whine of und
erstanding. The hounds sensed that something was wrong.
He led them back to a room at the end of the hall where they'd been sleeping. His stomach turned when he saw the stainless steel medical table and rows of sharp instruments. The table had leather clamps to keep someone tied to the table. The floor was concrete, and there was a drain in the corner along with a hose for washing fluids away.
Before he closed the door on the hounds, Zayn grabbed a scalpel. He found the stairs going up.
He didn't know how long he'd been out, but it appeared it was still nighttime. It sounded like the Goon and Levi were gathering supplies. He couldn't tell for sure where they were, so he stayed in the stairwell.
Zayn assumed they had guns and while he was quick with a spell, a bullet was faster. He was going to have to do this the slow and silent way.
Thankful that the Goon had built his house like a bunker, using concrete and reinforced flooring, Zayn confidently moved through the living room without fear of a squeaky board. He considered sneaking out the front door, but the Goon had cameras and would likely see him in the yard. Then he'd hunt him down with weapons before he could make it back to the Stack.
He found the workshop empty. There were no guns lying around, so Zayn slipped behind the curtain over the firing range. He waited with the scalpel in hand like a trap-door spider ready to lunge out.
"We'll hit the trailer first," said the Goon in another room. "Need to make sure we've got the other boy before we hit the Stack. He's the one we have to worry about now."
"We gonna take him captive like the others?" asked Levi from what sounded like the living room. He could hear gear being stacked in a pile.
"No," said the Goon. "I don't want to take chances with him. With a year of Academy training those boys are dangerous enough, and Keelan's not going to hesitate to fight back. We're going to burn the trailer down with the both of them in it. I'll flood it with knockout gas first."
Zayn squeezed the blade of the scalpel harder. He wanted to plunge it into the Goon's eye.
"What was that?" Levi called out.
"You hear something?"
"Something in the back of the house, sounded like something got knocked over," said Levi.
"You check it out," said the Goon. "I'm gonna make sure Zayn's where I left him."
Zayn froze. No one knew he was here, which meant if someone was sneaking into the compound, it was probably the Watchers. This complicated things as it would have been better if he'd stayed captured below. Maybe he could sneak out in the chaos, though that was doubtful given the Watchers were all Academy trained and enhanced by whatever magics the Lady employed.
He peeked from behind the curtain at the same time he heard a shout from below.
"He's gone! Search the compound, shoot on sight," echoed the Goon's voice from below.
From the living room, Zayn heard something being picked up. He slipped behind the curtain as Levi came into the room. Zayn listened for the sound of Levi's steps to near the gun range.
Levi stopped about five feet from the curtain, to his right, so Zayn couldn't reach directly out.
Zayn took a steadying breath and prepared to burst through the curtain. Before he could make his move, a gun went off. In the small space, the shot startled Zayn into indecision. Levi was running out of the room as Zayn slipped from behind the curtain.
Two more gunshots went off in the next room over. Zayn rushed to the corner. If he was caught across the room, they could fire on him with impunity.
When he peeked around the corner, he was shocked to see Keelan standing in the hallway.
Zayn waved at him, but Keelan ignored him and kept creeping towards the stairs that went below.
"Keelan," hissed Zayn, trying to stop him from running right into the Goon.
When he heard Levi coming around from the back, trapping Keelan, Zayn ran back around and into the living room.
Levi saw him first. The blast ripped a hole in the wall, right where Zayn had been standing before he dove. From the kneeling position, Zayn fired a force bolt that glanced off Levi, knocking his arm into the air.
Zayn rushed Levi before he could get his gun back down, stabbing him right in the neck and driving him back against the wall. Levi went limp in his arms, his eyes rolling back in his head as he dropped the gun.
The bloody scalpel slipped out of Zayn's hand as he stared at the motionless body. He'd killed a man. Every bit of him screamed that Levi had deserved it. He'd strangled Katie in her flat, an experience so horrifying it'd scarred her spirit.
His heart thumped in his ears. His face went numb. Priyanka had warned them on their first day that eventually they would have to kill someone. He hadn't expected it to happen in his first year. What right did he have to take someone else's life? Even if it was someone horrible.
"Don't you move," said the Goon from the hallway between the stairs and the arcade room. He'd lost his straw hat. His gun was pointed at Zayn as his eyes flitted to the fallen Levi.
"I never really did like him," said the Goon.
"He killed my friend," said Zayn.
"And you got your revenge. At least you got that much before your end." The Goon turned his head and shouted. "I got your cousin dead to rights. Come out, Keelan, or I'll put a bullet in his brain."
Zayn couldn't hear Keelan, but he knew he had to be creeping around somewhere near.
"You know I really never liked you," said Zayn, hoping to distract the Goon. "I always planned on betraying you to the Lady."
Minus his straw hat, the Goon looked like he was in his eighties.
"I suspected as much," said the Goon. "I should have known when you betrayed me the first chance you got and killed you right there. Your body would be rotting in the city landfill and I wouldn't be in this mess."
"Even if that had happened, you'd still screw up eventually and the Lady would come for you. Sooner or later," said Zayn.
"You sound like you like her," said the Goon, chuckling.
"Not in the least bit. Her day will come," said Zayn.
"But not by you," replied the Goon. "Come out, Keelan. You got five seconds before I ace your cousin. One. Two. Three. Four."
As the Goon's lips started to form the last number, Keelan rushed up the stairs. The Goon spun, firing point-blank into his chest. There was no way he'd survive.
As the Goon's bullet ripped through his cousin, Zayn fired a force bolt into his back, knocking him forward.
With a cry on his lips, Zayn leapt up to finish off the Goon, when he realized Keelan was no longer on the stairs. His surprise was doubled when his cousin burst from the arcade room and jammed a bowie knife into the Goon's chest, pinning him to the floor.
Then standing over him, Keelan spit on the Goon's face as he rasped, blood bubbling from his lips. Keelan had used an illusion to fool the Goon.
"I thought you were dead," said Zayn.
"You should have told me," said Keelan, eyes dark with killing.
"Told you what?"
"That you weren't really working for the Goon," said Keelan.
"I did, sort of, years ago," said Zayn.
Keelan shook his head. "I guess I didn't believe you."
"Thanks for having my back. You followed me when I left the Stack," said Zayn.
"You move like an elephant carrying a carnival," said Keelan with a wry smile. "What now?"
"We call the sheriff. Let the Lady and her ilk sort this out," said Zayn.
Keelan had a strange look in his eyes, but he nodded. Zayn called 911. It took a half hour before all the cars showed up.
Sheriff Clovis was the first to arrive since he lived the closest. He ducked through the front door with a look of disappointment on his face when he saw them sitting on the couch.
"What have you two gotten yourselves into?" said the sheriff.
After a deputy wrapped a bandage around Zayn's wounds, he patiently explained what had happened, including the drug and its connection to the Lady. The sheriff asked a few qu
estions, but otherwise nodded along.
"You should have called me first," said the sheriff.
"They would have killed him before you got here," said Keelan, nodding towards Zayn.
The sheriff shook his head and paced away. "While I appreciate you boys knocking the shine from his treachery, I'm sure the Lady would have preferred to kill him herself, at her leisure. Who was the one to do the deed? She'll want to personally thank you."
"It was me," said Keelan, before Zayn could say otherwise.
"That true?" asked the sheriff.
Zayn nodded, though he wasn't happy about the credit going to Keelan. He needed it to get close to the Lady. "Yes."
The sheriff had a deputy take them back to the Stack, which came as the sun crested the horizon. They were subjected to another round of questioning from his parents, to whom they gave the minimum of answers to keep them from knowing too much.
When they finally let him retire to his room, despite the bone-weary exhaustion, Zayn lay awake for hours because every time he tried to close his eyes, he saw Levi's look of shock as the scalpel went into his neck.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Varna, June 2014
Visiting an empty grave
Zayn had never been bothered by walking through the Varna Cemetery, but as he made his way across the manicured lawns, he kept expecting a hand to grab his ankle in retribution for what he'd done. It didn't matter that Levi wasn't from Varna, and it was unlikely his death had created a ghost, but Zayn felt uneasy just the same.
It was as if he'd crossed a line that allowed the dead to reach him. He'd always wondered why killers often confessed their crimes, even when they'd gotten away cleanly, but knowing that Levi—however flawed a person he was—no longer existed because of him weighed him with guilt.
He found Keelan by his father's grave, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. Zayn cleared his throat as he approached to let his cousin know he was there. Keelan hastily wiped his eyes before Zayn made it to the grave.
Zayn took one look at his cousin and knew what he was thinking.
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