by Dylan Steel
Without a word, Weston wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. She inhaled deeply as she tried to switch her focus from Carnabel’s strange apology. They hadn't been back to the estate since explosives had rocked the city, and his normal sweet woodsy scent was still masked by smoke. It was there, muted, but still reassuringly familiar.
“Was that—”
“Weird? Yeah.”
“Better now?” he murmured into her hair. She could hear a trace of amusement in his voice.
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “But it helps that you’re here.”
As they waited for the meeting to start, she felt her muscles begin to loosen a bit under his warmth and weight of his presence.
The room was getting crowded fast. Standing room only. Sage could’ve sworn she saw a few familiar faces at the back of the room, but she couldn’t be sure. There would be time for reunions after the meeting.
After a few more minutes of other Lawless filing in, her parents entered the room and took their positions at the head of the table. Sage couldn’t help but stare. She’d spent so long believing they were dead, it was hard to accept that they were actually here.
She rolled her shoulders in an attempt to dissolve some of the tension she was carrying. Her emotions were all over the place with all the recent family revelations.
Ethan shot her a private smile and then stood, pressing his fingers against the top of the table as he leaned forward and addressed the room. “Thank you all for coming. I know this is a difficult time for all of us, losing family and friends and having others still unaccounted for.”
Weston squeezed Sage’s knee beneath the table. She couldn’t pry her eyes off her father as he continued his speech.
“I appreciate you taking the time to be with us today as we go over the details of the transition. We rose up in the shadows, but we must move forward in the light of day. Very shortly, we’ll hold a public hearing to explain in greater detail the dissolution of Eprah’s government and what can be expected to happen from here. The Lawless Council has been preparing for this day for years. We have proposed an initial set of legislature and leadership, all of which we’ve made available to you and can be reviewed at the close of the meeting today.” He nodded toward the databooks placed around the table.
“Feel free to contact me or any Council member with any questions you have, but please do keep in mind that we have a lot of responsibilities in a tight timeline. The outlined proposals are intended only to be for a period of transition. While we have additional proposals for permanent governance, we cannot ratify any of those into law yet as we intend to consider Eprah’s people and their ideas.”
Sage picked up her tablet. It opened to a file describing the proposed changes, and she immediately started scanning over it. She paused when her father started speaking again.
“It’s a great deal of detail to go over, and as such, I believe our time together now would best be served in other ways. Rest assured that we have not come to these changes lightly, but in fact have spent many years debating the best course of action for this transition. We may have been forced to live in secret, but we used the time and resources we were given. That said, we recognize that we may have some oversights and still invite all your thoughts.
“In the meantime, we have an internal matter to discuss, one which I would never have thought we’d need to.” Ethan motioned toward the door. One of the guards opened it, and a young man Sage didn’t recognize walked through, gripping Charles Bennick by the arm.
Sage’s body went rigid. She pressed closer to Weston unconsciously. Ordinarily, he would have held her hand or made some other reassuring move, but he remained completely still. To anyone else, his stoic demeanor would indicate he was unaffected, but Sage could tell his father’s presence had unsettled him a little too.
Ethan stepped to the side, allowing the former benefactor to stand next to him. Charles’ hands were shackled together in front of him. As he stepped to the head of the table, he looked at the group of Lawless with his lips pressed together thinly. He didn’t show any evidence of familiarity with anyone. No emotion, not even to acknowledge his son.
“Most of you know who Charles Bennick is,” Ethan began. “While he was a benefactor in Eprah for many years, he has been a member of the Lawless for equally long. Which is why it is with such heavy hearts we are here today to discuss his crimes—” he spared a side glance at Charles, “—and their consequences.”
Sage’s heartbeat kicked up, thumping faster in her chest. She barely managed to keep herself from looking at Weston.
“If there is anything we have learned in our years of oppression, it is that everyone is corruptible. And Charles Bennick is no exception. He has not denied setting or initiating the sequence of charges which de—”
“Of course, I do not deny it,” Charles interrupted. Fire burned behind his eyes. “If not for a great many of my actions, we would not be here today. After everything I’ve done for our cause, I should not have to explain myself.”
“That is not the determination of the Lawless Council. Your actions were not only unapproved but expressly forbidden and resulted in many unnecessary deaths.” Ethan worked his jaw back and forth, fighting to maintain his composure. “We made excuses for you for years. We thought it was losing Sophia that caused the change in you, but—”
“How dare you bring up Sophia,” Charles snarled.
“It wasn’t just the loss of your wife. We all mourned her. But you were on this path long before that. Kidnapping my daughter—”
“She agreed to do whatever it took to—”
“You promised to protect her!” Isabelle cried. Her impassive facade crumbled in an instant. “We trusted you, Charles.”
Sage's stomach turned, her cheeks reddening as she felt all the eyes of the room shift to her.
“Even so.” Ethan put a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder but never took his attention off of Mr. Bennick. “Despite the excuses we’ve tried to make for you, those explosives weren't all set after you took Sage. The amount of time it would've taken to coordinate something on that level…” he trailed off, shaking his head.
“No,” Mr. Bennick agreed. “They were not. But it is no secret we have had differing solutions to Eprah’s problems for a long time.”
“Your so-called solutions are the very same type of evil we've been fighting against.”
“Sometimes it takes drastic measures to win an impossible war.”
“But it had already been won.” Ethan shook his head. “Had you just trusted us to—”
“To what?” Mr. Bennick said, a coldness in his eyes that sent chills down Sage’s spine. “To delay again? And how many others would die until we were finally ready to act? The continued loss of life from our inaction far outweighs anything I have done. I was ready to act, to leave nothing to chance. Not anymore.”
“My mother never would have approved.” Weston’s voice was quiet, but it filled the room.
Charles’ composure cracked in anger. “But your mother wasn’t here to object, was she? No. Because of her,” he glared at Sage, “and because of the Quorum and Lyle Gaztok. And that is exactly why I did it. To know beyond all doubt that they would never come back, never be able to rise to power again, never be able to take away anyone else we love.”
Sage froze. The man was beyond reason.
“Charles.” Ethan’s shoulders rose and fell as he tried to calm himself. “The explosives you set killed thousands—and that’s after evacuations were underway. The damage would have been immeasurably worse if not for the efforts of many brave men and women, particularly those who risked their own lives to rescue children trapped in the Institution.”
“Those charges were set deliberately and with a lot of forethought. It may seem terrible at first glance, and you may make me out to be a monster because of it, but they were as necessary as all the others. Our goal in this rebellion was always to take out Eprah’s leadership to pave th
e way for the Lawless to take over. Things don’t always go according to plan or ideals, but you never want to acknowledge that. It wasn’t an easy decision, but someone needed to make it. I was the only one with enough backbone to do it. My actions were necessary, and you’re a fool if you think Gaztok wouldn’t have hidden himself among children to save his own skin,” Charles snapped.
“So we’d have found another way to get to him—”
“—I provided the means to destroy him and the Quorum under any circumstances.”
“We don’t kill children!” Ethan’s eyes blazed red in anger.
The room went silent. Sage held her breath, afraid to interrupt even with the quiet rise and fall of her chest.
“I’m sorry you and yours got caught in the middle of all this,” Charles said, only slightly more gently this time. The attempt at compassion made Sage’s skin crawl. “But some of us are willing to do whatever it takes, Ethan. Even if you don’t agree with my methods, you can’t deny their effectiveness.”
“It wasn’t necessary.” His face pinched with sorrow as he looked at his old friend. “And the cost was too high. My son paid the price for your arrogance, and yours nearly did too.”
“And my wife paid the price of your daughter’s selfishness,” Charles returned in a low voice.
Sage sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes darting between the two men. Guilt threatened to overwhelm her. She was responsible for Sophia Bennick’s death. And now everyone in the room knew.
“She was a child, and you offered her no explanation in a terrifying situation. The circumstances couldn’t be more different. And she’s not the one we’re demanding answers from.” Ethan shook his head. “There’s no place for these types of decisions here anymore, Charles.”
“It must be hard being perfect,” Charles bit out, glaring at him.
Ethan’s cool mask disintegrated as he shot him a look of wordless contempt, which Charles easily matched.
“We’ve all made sacrifices, but they were the result of our own choices. You took that decision out of everyone else’s hands when you issued a blanket death sentence. We cannot allow that to stand.”
“What is your plan then, Ethan? Do you intend to kill me? To make an example out of my disobedience to your new regime?” An undercurrent of challenge filled his voice.
“It’s not my regime, Charles,” Ethan said, resigned. He raised his voice, addressing the room, “I recommend to the Council that Charles Bennick be given the same choice of punishment as the others.”
“And an opportunity to defend himself to the people of Eprah,” Isabelle added.
Ethan’s eyes flicked to hers. “Agreed. All in favor?”
Sage watched every hand in the room raise. Including Weston’s. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Opposed?”
No one moved.
“Very well. Charles, you will wait for official defense and sentencing. I am sorry, old friend.”
22. ACCOUNTABLE
“I wasn’t sure you’d show.”
Sage whipped her head around at the familiar voice, a grin creeping over her face. Lita wore an expression that fell somewhere between happy-to-see-her and pity. Both of their smiles quickly fell flat, overshadowed by the somberness of the occasion.
She lifted her shoulders. “And I wasn’t sure you were real.”
“We’ve been over this. I let you pinch me and everything,” Lita teased.
“You’re supposed to pinch yourself when you’re dreaming,” Sage murmured.
Lita’s eyebrow quirked up.
“There was no way I’d miss this,” Sage added quickly. She glanced over her shoulder, surveying the gathering crowd. The bored expressions typical of Eprah’s required meetings was notably absent from their faces today.
“I don’t blame you.” Lita’s mouth hardened into a line. “We’ve all been waiting for too long. Messed up as it is, this is home.”
“And I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me too.” The edges of Lita’s lips softened. She jerked her head toward the cluster of chairs at the far end of the stage. “I should get to my seat.”
“Right. Go. Be important.” Sage offered a half-hearted grin as she shooed her old friend away.
Lita laughed. She turned, then hesitated, putting a hand on Sage’s arm. “No one would blame you, you know. If you didn’t want to stay for this.”
Her shoulders tensed. “It’s not about what I want.”
Pursing her lips, Lita nodded in understanding. She left without another word, slipping in between a couple Lawless men who Sage had only met a few days earlier.
Sage’s eyes flitted back over the other Lawless Council members—that’s what they called themselves. She couldn’t suppress the surge of pride that swelled up at seeing Lita sitting among them. She belonged there.
Though she’d been assured long ago that her old friend was, in fact, alive, she never expected to see her again. Their reunion had been one more bright spot in the recent tumultuous days. Sage was never sure anymore if she was supposed to be celebrating or mourning—too much had happened.
Lita wasn’t the only one on the Council, but she was one of the only ones Sage trusted.
She’d been introduced to most of them before the dust had finished settling.
Ethan and Isabelle’s daughter. A hero, just like her brother.
What did any of them really know about it? Did they know true sacrifice? Did they know how it felt to be responsible for another person’s last breath? Did they know how it felt to watch a man’s life leave his eyes?
She exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing heart.
Despite everyone’s reassurances, she still had her reservations about the Lawless Council. After all, it had sounded like just a new, larger Quorum at first.
When Sage had initially heard about the new governing body, she’d resisted the idea—to put it lightly. More accurately, she’d started planning a second coup. Weston had to talk her out of it.
She wasn’t sure she was entirely convinced of the Lawless Council’s merit. After all, simply having a larger Quorum did nothing to solve the problems Eprah had allowed to fester.
But she was beginning to realize that the Lawless Council wasn’t the same as the Quorum at all. The Lawless had been successfully using the model during their years in hiding, and it had garnered a lot of support. Its members had to be voted in regularly, and no one was allowed a lifetime pass of power. And there were severe consequences if they violated certain rules.
“Sorry to leave you alone.” Weston’s deep voice brushed her ear as he came alongside her. “Had to take care of a few last-minute details with your father. Ready?”
She closed her eyes for a second, then looked at him and nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”
“Good.” He slipped his large hand around hers as he led her toward their chairs. Despite the outward composure she forced herself to display, his touch sent a surge of joy bubbling through her stomach, threatening to undo every ounce of her control.
As one of the core members of the Lawless, she had the privilege of joining the others on stage today—a literal front row seat to what remained from the devastation several weeks earlier.
Sage’s knees bounced up and down as she looked out over the rubble in the Grand Hall. The formerly impressive building had been reduced to little more than an open air stadium, a semi-organized pile of crumbled bricks.
Apparently, Charles hadn’t planted the charges precisely enough to bring it down—or at least, not quite as thoroughly as he’d intended. It was only partially standing after all the explosions, but they’d managed to clear out enough of the space to use it for today’s proceedings.
Her stomach lurched. Again, she found herself wishing that he’d set the explosives wrong in the tunnels beneath the Peace too.
Weston set his hand over hers, applying a gentle pressure in an attempt to calm her fidgeting. A reassuring warmth bloomed beneath his touch, spreading through
her body. She blew out the shallow breath she’d just inhaled, feeling a twinge of guilt over her nerves. After all, it was his father’s fate being decided today, not hers.
Oddly enough, the partially destroyed building had worked out fairly well for use in Eprah’s current state. Most of the government tech had been destroyed in the blasts—including the comms network—and with city cleanup efforts still underway, there hadn’t really been any time to spend on repairing any of it. The new Lawless order had been left with no other real way to communicate with the entire city at once.
Fortunately, a handful of camera drones had somehow survived, so they’d be used to project today’s proceedings locally. As it turned out, it was the only way to reach everyone without pounding on every door still standing—and they’d had to do a bit of that anyway to drum up the crowd gathering among the ruins now.
A lump formed in Sage’s throat as she watched her father step onto the stage. She still couldn’t believe that he was alive after all these years. Or that he was one of the Lawless instrumental in bringing down Mr. Gaztok and the Quorum of Five—or, perhaps more accurately, the Quorum of One.
Ethan nodded toward the Lawless Council, and her eyes swept over their faces for the hundredth time. Only a few of them were familiar—Lita and her mother among them.
Her attention shifted a few seats over to her father. Ethan stood and made his way to the center of the stage. He paused, looking out over the crowd. These people, these ruins—this was what remained of Eprah.
The citizens grew quiet without prompting, waiting expectantly for what he had to say. Licking his lips, he raised a hand in gratitude and began speaking slowly but clearly.
“People of Eprah, it is good to be with you again. It has been a long time—too long—and I am grateful you’ve all taken the time to be here with us today as we begin making strides toward a government that represents each one of you and truly cares for your lives.
“I know many of you have suffered the loss of loved ones in recent days, and the lives you had established are now sitting in unfamiliar pieces. This is not an easy time for any of us,” he said, swallowing hard.
