by Dylan Steel
She rolled her shoulders, wondering again why she’d volunteered to go through Kai’s things. It wasn’t like she had any special insight into him. Brother or not, he was a stranger.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced back tears. She wasn’t even sure why she was upset. Kai was no saint. He may have been Lawless, but he’d lived a pretty cushy life in comparison to most everyone she knew—cushier than she had. And he obviously didn’t share the same concerns about losing Chances. Only a handful of people in Eprah hadn’t feared him. He could do anything he wanted whenever he wanted.
She uncurled her fingers, ignoring the pain from where her nails had dug into her palm. It wasn’t that simple. She knew that. But somehow, it didn’t matter. She'd looked up to him, then hated him—wanted to kill him herself. But now that he was gone, she didn't know what to think.
Now, she was standing in the remains of his life, unsure exactly what she was hoping to find. The Lawless thought he might have kept something valuable—information or relics, maybe. It was only a slim chance that he’d risk exposure by hanging on to something that could implicate him, but they wanted to be thorough. Besides, even if there was nothing life-changing, her—their—parents might feel sentimental and want a keepsake to remind them of him.
“It’s hard to imagine you had anything personal,” Sage mumbled under her breath, scrunching her nose. “That implies you had feelings.”
A fresh wave of guilt crashed over her at the thought. Kai had done a lot of messed up things, but he’d saved her life. Several times. She just wasn’t sure if it counted for anything after all the other things he’d done. Like murder.
Her gaze flitted down, landing on a canvas that had been knocked off the wall. She crouched and turned it over, wiping a layer of dust from the front of the painting with her sleeve. Her brow furrowed as she caught a glimpse of the image, and she quickly swept her hand back and forth over it, bringing the rest of the picture to the surface.
At first glance, it was just an abstract painting, something only someone with too much money and not enough taste would buy. But there was something familiar about it. Maybe the colors. They were eerily similar to the colors of the founders’ journals.
Understanding dawned on her as she studied it more closely. Solids and silhouettes, the shapes echoed the journals’ corresponding gems. Not perfectly, but close enough that she caught the parallel.
This piece wasn’t purchased. And considering how short a time the Lawless had had all the stones, it had to have been painted recently, probably by Kai.
Her heart sped up.
She could hear Weston rummaging through Kai's things in the other room, but she didn't call for him. She didn't know why.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that she was still alone. She turned back to the painting and studied it carefully, then turned it over and examined the back. Nothing. Frowning, she poked a finger between the canvas and the frame, feeling her way all around the inner edge. Her breath caught in her throat as something rough snagged against her nail.
Impatient, she pushed against the canvas, wedging two fingers under the frame until she managed to wiggle a corner of something out. Paper.
A sort of franticness overtook her as she pinched and tugged at the paper until the rest of it slid free. She suppressed a gasp as her mother’s onyx necklace tumbled out with it. Hands trembling, she pocketed the necklace and unfolded the paper hastily, her eyes falling on the message inside. She bit the inside of her cheek as she began to read.
Sage, leaving you a note like this is dangerous, but I couldn't stand the idea of you hating me forever. And if you're reading this, it's probably only because I died or was discovered—and if that's the case, I'm as good as dead anyways, and little I tell you now will matter.
There’s no easy way to say this, so even though I’m sure you won’t like it, I’m just going to be blunt: I’m your brother. And I’m Lawless.
I know it’s going to be hard for you to believe either one of those things is true, but they are. I’d offer proof, but it would only endanger you and others if this note fell into the wrong hands. I know I’m asking for your trust, and that’s something you won’t think I’ve earned, but I don’t have another choice. There’s no reason I would lie about this, but I can think of a number of reasons to keep it from you. I only hope you believe me enough to seek out the truth for yourself.
I’ve spent most of my life trying to get close to men like Mr. Gaztok and the members of the Quorum. I’ve always planned to earn a seat on the Quorum… I imagine the rest is pretty obvious if you believe me. I’d be able to make real changes in Eprah—propose and vote for good changes, use my influence and vote to stop more horrible laws from coming to light.
This was only one plan of many that the Lawless have had in motion. It was never meant to be a quick fix. Even if I made it to the Quorum, which would take years, I wouldn’t be able to make a real impact for a long time.
It’s been… frustratingly slow. I always knew it would be, but I think I was too interested in playing the hero to really realize it when I volunteered for this assignment. I was just a kid, same as you when you came to the Institution. I didn’t understand the cost. I don’t think anyone did, even Mom and Dad, even though they did try to tell me what I’d be facing. They tried to talk me out of it, but honestly, I doubt they would’ve let me do it if they’d really realized… not that I would’ve given them a choice. I knew what I needed to do to get noticed and fast-tracked to a place of influence, and I think I would’ve done it one way or another once I was able. I can be stubborn that way. Family trait, I guess.
The way things have been going lately, I’m not sure any of this can happen. I don’t think Mr. Gaztok has any intention of installing anyone in the vacant Quorum seats, which is why I’m risking this note now. I’m trying to use my position the best I can right now, mostly dropping some intel that I would be expected to pass on to him, but I don’t know how much longer I can continue even doing that undetected. He knows I’m not incompetent, and I can only make so many “mistakes.” Mr. Gaztok is paranoid, and the men under my command are ruthless and ambitious. If I don’t bring things to Mr. Gaztok’s attention, they will, and then I’ll be under suspicion. I don’t think I need to spell out what would happen to me if I was in that position. Mr. Gaztok isn’t exactly the type to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. Or offer forgiveness.
I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other the way we should have, like a real brother and sister. As much as you must despise me for everything I’ve done, you have to know that everything changed for me the day you walked through the Institution’s doors. That was never supposed to happen. It killed me that you were stuck in Eprah without our parents, and it was the first time I considered abandoning my mission. But I knew staying the course would put me in a better position to help you if you ever needed it—and you did. A lot, little sister.
You probably think I’m going to say I’m sorry for the things I’ve done, the lives I’ve taken, but I can’t do that. You have every right to hate me. I do too most days. I live with more nightmares than I can count, more than you’ll ever know, but protecting you has never been one of those. I put your safety in front of my mission, and I would do it again a thousand times. And the awful, unspeakable things I did, I did for the possibility of a better future for all of us. I couldn’t do any of it if I allowed myself to wish things could be different.
So I’m not sorry. I don’t regret any of it, and I don’t want you to either.
I wish I could tell you more about Mom and Dad, but I didn’t have any more time to get to know them than you did. I think you might hate me more if I told you what I had to do to set our plan in motion, so that’s one secret I’ll keep, but I will say that I knew they’d have to go into hiding when I entered the Institution. But I know how much they loved me, and I have no doubt that they loved you just as much. If they were still here, you would’ve known a much better life than the one
you’ve endured, and I wish I could have changed that for you.
If you’re reading this, if I’m gone, I’m sure things have gotten even worse. So as the only protection I have left to offer you, I want you to find the leader of the Lawless and ask for a safe extraction. I know you’re stubborn and probably won’t want to, but it’s what Mom and Dad would’ve wanted for you. Please consider it, for them if not for yourself.
Kai
“He would have done anything for you.” Weston’s voice came softly over her shoulder.
“He did.” She blinked back tears. If Kai hadn’t stayed behind, they never would have made it to safety in time.
“You can’t blame yourself that he’s not here. He didn’t buy time just for you. It was for everyone.”
Sage stared at the shadow Weston cast on the letter. She couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge what he’d said. Because, on some level, she did blame herself, and the unexpected guilt was driving her crazy.
“Did he know you were the leader of the Lawless?” she murmured. “He told me to find you and have you get me to safety.”
“He knew. He knew you knew too.” Weston squeezed her shoulder. “But he wouldn’t have wanted to say anything that would make Mr. Gaztok think otherwise. Best not to give him a reason to interrogate you should someone other than you have found the note.”
She nodded numbly.
“He asked me to send you away, you know.” Tension filled Weston’s tone. “I should have. I was too selfish. I wanted you with me, and you were helping the cause again and…” He cleared his throat. “I told myself that it was your choice. I’d like to think I would have if you’d chosen not to help, but I was never truly faced with the decision.”
Sage tilted her head back, leaning against him as she traced a mindless pattern along her leg. “It was the right choice.”
Neither of them moved right away. She breathed slowly, letting his comforting scent fill her senses. After a few moments, she shifted her weight, forcing herself to her feet facing him. “Find anything else?”
“No,” Weston shook his head, looking pointedly at the letter still clutched in her hand, “and I don’t expect to either. I think we found all he meant to be found.”
Sage cast one more glance over the apartment. Something told her Weston was right. Everything Kai did was measured. Deliberate. He’d left a note. Anything else seemed unnecessary.
Weston held out a hand. “It’s time.”
She slipped her hand into his, saying nothing as they left the apartment and the remnants of Kai’s charade behind.
***
Memories assaulted Sage as they walked onto the dance floor. So much had changed in so little time. Razz was one of the few buildings left completely intact. Whether it was because it was completely contained underground or because no one thought it was worth destroying, she wasn’t sure. Probably a little bit of both.
Her steps faltered.
“Are you alright?” Concern was etched on Weston’s face.
Her eyes flicked around the space. “It’s… There are more than I thought.”
A small grin played at the corners of his mouth. “I told you there were a lot of us—more now that the others have been able to come out of hiding—but this isn’t everyone.”
Glancing up at him in surprise, she turned back to the Lawless gathering in front of her. There were so many. Sage's vision blurred. All the times she’d felt so alone, she’d been wrong. Others had been working toward the same goal from the shadows.
She clamped her jaw shut and pushed back her tears again. In the days since the city had been turned to rubble, she'd been doing entirely too much crying. Her eyes were puffy and her throat was raw. She was done.
No sooner had she reached that decision than she spotted a face among the crowd that stopped her cold.
Carnabel met her gaze, an unfamiliar look flashing behind her eyes as she shifted her weight. She bit her lip and broke eye contact, glancing at her sister beside her.
“Why is she here?” Sage hissed under her breath.
Weston’s eyebrow lifted. “You know Clarette is part of this.”
“Clarette, yes. Not her,” Sage said pointedly, shooting him a challenging glare.
“They’re sisters.”
“Yeah, I found that out when Clarette deserted me while I was trying to get you out,” she said wryly, eyeing her former classmate with suspicion.
Carnabel’s fingers twitched into a fist at her side, then opened again. She ran her palms over her dress to smooth it, not taking her eyes off her. Clarette elbowed her sister and then walked away, earning her a scowl before Carnabel turned her attention back to Sage.
“Looks like she wants to talk to you.” Weston squeezed her hand. “Maybe you should hear what she has to say.”
Sage stiffened. “I don’t—”
“The meeting’s just in there. I’ll save you a seat inside,” Weston said quickly. His hand pressed against the small of her back, nudging her forward.
Traitor. Sage glared at the back of his head as he disappeared into the next room.
Rolling her eyes, she closed the distance between them and crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”
Carnabel’s brows lifted, her mouth falling slightly open for a moment before she snapped it closed. “I—”
“Yeah?” Sage said impatiently, barely reigning in her anger.
“—I hated you the first time I saw you.” Her words came out in a rush.
Sage’s face reddened as she stared at her, dumbfounded. “Wow. Thanks. Glad I came over here for that.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “You know, the feeling was pretty much mutual. But thanks for—”
“That’s not what I meant.” Carnabel’s brows drew together. “I mean, yeah, I did, but—”
“But you just needed to tell me, get it off your chest? In case I hadn’t figured it out for myself.” Sage snorted. “Well, I did. You must think I’m really—”
“—I blamed you,” Carnabel blurted out.
Sage’s eyes narrowed. “For breathing?”
“My parents had just been taken, and I was in the Institution and so were you, and I was so sure I recognized you,” she said in a rush.
“We never met before.”
“I know. We didn’t.” Carnabel rubbed her round belly, looking especially uncomfortable. “My parents were meeting with yours—Lawless business—and they thought I was asleep on the trailer, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t supposed to see you, but I heard voices and peeked out and saw them—and you.”
“So you hated me because you knew our parents were friends?” Sage snorted. “That makes sense.”
“I knew they were Lawless,” Carnabel corrected her, “and my parents disappeared not long after.”
“Oh.” Sage pressed her lips into a thin line. Anger built behind her words. “So you blamed me.”
Carnabel hesitated.
“I’d just lost my parents too.”
“I didn’t know that. For all I knew, only you’d been caught, and I honestly didn’t care.” Carnabel winced at her admission. “I just knew I didn’t have my parents anymore because they were Lawless, and if I didn’t hate someone for it, I was going to go crazy in there.”
Sage’s jaw worked back and forth. “I know the feeling,” she ground out.
“Anyways, I—I’m sorry.” Carnabel’s face soured like she’d choked on the words. She glanced in the direction her sister had disappeared and then looked back at Sage. “I know it doesn’t fix anything, but it’s all I can do.”
“You ruined my assignments by going to the headmaster.”
“Yeah.”
“You stripped one of my Chances.”
“I know.” She clenched her teeth.
“And you stood in my way when I tried to get to Weston.”
“Ok, yes, I did. I know I—”
“No.”
Carnabel blinked. “No?”
“No,” Sage practically snarled. �
�No, you don’t get to say you’re sorry and have everything be fine. You don’t get to—”
“Look, I know it doesn’t fix anything. I’m not even saying I want us to be friends now or anything. I’m just…” She blew out a breath and crossed her arms. “I can’t go back and change what I did. And the thing with Mr. Bennick—they threatened to take my baby straight to the Institution if I didn’t fully cooperate. I’m not apologizing for that. I’d absolutely do it again.”
Sage’s mouth dropped open a little. Rox. Threatening to separate her from her unborn child was an especially low blow. But that didn’t excuse the other years of torment, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to let it go so easily. “This is probably the worst apology I’ve ever heard,” she finally said.
Carnabel shrugged. “Not like it was my idea,” she muttered, casting another quick glance in Clarette’s direction. “But,” she added, a little louder, “I just thought you should know I’m not going to do anything else. As far as I’m concerned, what’s been between us is done.”
Raising an eyebrow, Sage stared at her for a moment in silence. “We’re not friends,” she said through a tight jaw.
“Duh.”
There really wasn’t anything else to say. Nothing she wanted to, at least. Sure, she could list every wrong Carnabel had ever dealt her, but what was the point? Nothing would change, and she doubted it would even bring an ounce of remorse—if she’d had any to begin with.
She ran her hand through her hair. She was tired of fighting, whether it was the Quorum or Mr. Gaztok or Carnabel. If this was a real peace offering, no matter how pitiful, she was going to take it.
Sage nodded slowly. “Are you gonna be in there?” She jerked her head toward the almost-full room.
Carnabel’s eyes flashed with confusion. “No, I—um, I wasn’t really… Clarette’s the one that helped,” she stammered.
“Well, I should go then.”
Sage attempted a smile that probably looked more like a grimace, then turned and made her way to the other room. She found her benefactor on the far end of the table and didn’t wait any longer to join him, slipping into the chair next to him.
