by Dylan Steel
“Today is the beginning of a new Eprah. You’ve no doubt realized by now that your bracelets no longer function as they did—if you’re still wearing a bracelet at all. Some of you aren’t.
“The System of Worth has been dismantled, and all bracelets and Chances have been neutralized. I’m sure you are all eager to be free of your residual chains, and we will work as quickly as possible to remove the remaining bracelets, but we advise that you do not try to remove them yourselves. Hopefully it’s nothing more than an unnecessary precaution, but we ask for your cooperation in an effort to ensure your safety.”
Ethan paused. “I want to be very clear on this: Everyone’s life is valuable, and not simply because we as the Lawless have declared it so—but because you live. That is why we have used the ancient term Sacrisvita to represent our efforts for years—because life is sacred. If those you now know as the Lawless ever lose sight of this one fundamental truth, we will have lost the right to govern.”
A low murmur rippled among the crowd. Sage wasn’t sure if it was one of agreement. Maybe shock.
“This day is a solemn occasion. One in which we pay our respects to those—” he cleared his throat, blinking as he gathered his composure, “—to those who did not make it to see the fruits of their sacrificial efforts realized, and one in which we see that justice is done.”
Sage’s vision blurred. Kai. The choices he’d made could put him in either category. He’d done unspeakable things that demanded justice, but he’d also made the ultimate sacrifice—not only by buying everyone time to get to safety but by agreeing to infiltrate the Quorum—a decision he’d made when he was only a child.
Acid climbed into her throat, and she pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the comforting weight of her mother’s necklace beneath her shirt. After finding it at Kai’s apartment, she’d tried to give it back to her, but Isabelle wouldn’t hear of it. Sage hadn’t argued.
Pulling the necklace out from her collar, she let it settle across the thin fabric of her shirt. Concealing it had become a habit, but it was no longer necessary. She could display it proudly now.
“As most of you know, the Lawless have spent years being hunted for the belief that each person’s life is inherently valuable and that it is not within our rights to individually determine whether or not another should live or die. These beliefs were not only incongruous with Eprah’s laws, they were the grounds for many among us being hunted and killed.
“To that end, we were outcasts forced to seek asylum far away from the city and its surrounding estates, forced to go where Eprah no longer knew we existed: a nearby island.”
Sage’s heart swelled with gratitude as she met Eliza’s eyes. She was sitting in one of the first few rows, and she was the reason the Lawless had returned at all. Learning to sail, as Weston had said, had turned out to be a cover in more ways than one. Weston had sent her and Jonah to bring back the exiled Lawless. Reinforcements. Her parents.
Sage owed her life to her.
“For years, that island has been a refuge, a place of hiding for those seeking to escape the harsh laws of Eprah. But now it will serve a different purpose—one of mercy.” Ethan scanned the crowd. “The Lawless have long fought for the rights of all of Eprah’s citizens, but we understand that not everyone will want to embrace the changes that we are proposing.
“To that end, we have decided to transform our refuge into yours. For those who cannot bear the burden of this new society for whatever reason, we offer our island sanctuary as a new home to those who would willingly choose to remain as they have been. And to those who can not or will not conform to Eprah’s new laws, we offer it as an alternative to an imprisoned life here. We will provide transportation to the island over the next month, but please be aware, it is a one-way trip. None of our ships will return with passengers, nor will any vessels be left behind. It is the only manner we’ve determined able of both offering mercy and protecting this fledgling society. A balance struck in a difficult situation.”
Ethan motioned to someone offstage before turning back to the crowd. “Obviously, there are some citizens whose actions under Eprah’s old laws disqualify them from living a free life here. Their decisions were deemed lawful, but they were in no way right. They are among the worst offenders and often the most prominent public figures, taking human life for sport just as readily as for a supposed cause. The men and women we bring before you today have already been evaluated by the Lawless Council and deemed incompatible with the new Eprah. They are the first to be given a choice about how they would prefer to live out their days—as well as the opportunity for one last public appeal to have their sentence reversed. If anyone would speak for them, now is your chance.
“Allow me to be clear: If they or anyone here today want to speak in their defense and testify of their innocence despite the overwhelming evidence levied against them, this is the time to come forward. There will not be another opportunity once they have departed our shores.”
His expression grew even graver as the first man was brought onstage beside him, hands cuffed in front of him. “And to assure you that the Lawless are not the enemy, we will begin today’s proceedings with one of our own—” he glanced to the man at his side, “—one who has gone tragically astray in his zealous attempts to promote the Lawless cause. This is your opportunity to speak in your defense. Charles Bennick, you may now plead your case to the people.”
Charles wore a hard expression. “I will not partake in this farce. My actions are not in question, merely my motives. I chose freedom for the people of Eprah at any cost. Something you simply didn’t have the stomach to do. Had we taken such action years ago, we might have spared more lives than were lost the other day.”
“We are not speaking in hypotheticals. We are talking about very real lives that you took in the explosives you initiated across Eprah. I suggest you present your defense now as you will not have another opportunity.”
“Everything I did, I did to ensure Eprah had a future apart from despots like Lyle Gaztok and other members of the Quorum of Five.”
“And in so doing, you destroyed countless people’s lives,” Ethan said, anger simmering dangerously close to the surface of his outwardly calm demeanor.
“And I would make the same decision again given what I knew.” Charles slammed his fists down in front of himself, pulling against his restraints. “Gaztok had to be stopped by any means necessary, and I could not trust you to get the job done after years of inaction.”
“Our presence here today is evidence of our actions and our success. If you will not defend yourself, then I must put the question to you: Prison or exile?” Ethan finally managed. “Make your choice, Mr. Bennick.”
“I could never be a prisoner in your world.”
Tearing his gaze away, Ethan cleared his throat, projecting so he could be heard above the crowd. “Charles Bennick, based on your actions leading up to the overthrow of Eprah’s Quorum, the Lawless Council has agreed that you cannot be welcome here. You will have a place on the first ship to the island.”
One of the Lawless guards stepped forward, escorting the former benefactor off the stage as another guard brought the next prisoner to take his place.
“Serefina Chartreaux. The Lawless Council has determined your crimes inexcusable, but this is your opportunity to appeal to—”
“No need,” she said quickly, interrupting. She lifted her chin higher. “I don’t expect anyone to speak for me, and I already know I would prefer not to live out my days in a cell. I just want to make sure the ship will have generous quarters. I’d like to be able to take as many of my things with me as possible. You know, to ensure that my new life is as comfortable as possible.”
Sage blinked. Was she serious?
Ethan shot her a thin smile. “You’re welcome to take anything you’ve actually earned with you. But anything stolen or handed to you or produced on the backs of your workers who were given no choice—that’s no longer your property.” He h
eld up a hand, stopping her protest before it could start. “Nonnegotiable.”
Serefina’s cheeks reddened. She pursed her lips. “Well,” she said huffily, “it would seem you’ve quite made up your minds.”
“If you really have no desire to defend your actions…”
She glared at him.
“Very well.” Ethan motioned to the guard. “Then, let’s continue with the next defendant…”
***
The sea air nipped at Sage’s neck, and she shivered, pulling her collar up higher as she looked out over the familiar estate. No place in Eprah had ever felt like home before. But now, with Weston and her family, she was starting to feel something she hadn’t in a long time: Belonging.
The Lawless trials were over. They’d finished a week ago. The entire process had only taken a few days, which was a surprisingly short time for the number of people that had been found guilty of unpardonable acts. It seemed as if the accused knew there was little chance of changing anyone’s mind about them. Most of them didn’t even bother trying. And not surprisingly, none of them decided to stay imprisoned in Eprah.
She sucked in a breath as the trailers circled in front of the beach, pulling as close to the docks as they could. From where she stood, she couldn't tell which were filled with the convicted and which were filled with voluntary exiles. Which one held the man who'd murdered the brother she'd never really known and which one held the survivors of the blasts he’d set.
Not that it mattered, she reminded herself. Despite her personal feelings, Charles Bennick and the rest of the murderers were no longer her concern.
As for the volunteers, she figured that anyone crazy enough to willingly leave the new, better Eprah deserved to have despicable neighbors. It was their own choice, after all.
Her posture stiffened as the guards lowered the ramps and started unloading passengers.
Weston looked down, squeezing her hand. “I’m glad you’re here, but you know you didn’t have to come. There’s still time to leave if you want.”
Sage steeled her expression as she returned the squeeze, keeping her eyes trained ahead of her. “I want—I need to be here.”
He nodded, not saying another word.
She appreciated that he didn’t push her. He might consider it a show of support, but her presence at the ship’s departure wasn’t entirely selfless. This was something she needed to do. She needed to see justice done. Besides, she didn’t know if she’d really be able to believe that Eprah would truly change otherwise—that there wouldn’t be some lingering influential citizens who would try to return things to the way they’d been.
Grabbing the few belongings they’d been allowed to bring, voluntary and forced exiles alike headed for the ship, forming a line to board. The number of forced exiles greatly surpassed the voluntary ones, but she was surprised by how many were willing to leave the new Eprah without giving it a chance.
Sage’s jaw dropped as she watched Nic step off what must have been one of the volunteers’ trailers and head toward the line.
Before she realized what she was doing, she’d rushed forward, leaving Weston's side.
Her notoriety meant that none of the guards stopped her as she stumbled onto the dock. Fighting her way through the crowd, she set a hand on his shoulder before he could step onto the ramp.
“Nic?”
His body tensed. He turned around slowly, reluctantly meeting her eyes.
Her brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”
“I—” He licked his lips, looking out over the crowd for a moment before refocusing on her.
“You do realize this is a one way trip,” she said sharply. “We made it pretty clear... But you haven't left yet, so you can get back in the trailer, and they'll take you back to the city. If they give you any trouble about it, I'm sure I can talk to—”
“I can’t stay here, Sage,” he cut in quickly.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll just tell them you—”
“This is the world you wanted, not me.”
“But I don’t…” She frowned. “It’s a better world.”
“Not in every way,” he muttered.
Her shoulders sagged. “I know it’s going to take a lot of work before it—”
“We didn’t all hate Eprah.” An edge of bitterness laced his voice.
Her brows knit together. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
“Besides, I can’t. I can’t just ignore everything I’ve believed in my whole life. And I can’t be here every day, watching you with…” he trailed off, his eyes flicking to Weston for only an instant. “It’s too hard. You can’t ask that of me.”
“Nic, I—” she reached toward him but stopped as he edged away. Her fingers closed into a fist, dropping to her side. “I’m sorry. I hope you can be happy,” she said softly.
He gave her a dubious look. "Me too."
His last words lacked conviction, but he turned around, unquestionably putting a wall between them.
Sage's face fell. She opened her mouth to protest some more and then closed it. Nic could make his own decisions. After all, she certainly had.
Shooting one last uncertain glance in his direction, she turned away, leaving him to his mistake, knowing that short conversation was the closest thing to a goodbye they'd ever have.
Weston slipped his arm around her in silent acknowledgment when she returned to his side. Words could never convey the depth and range of emotions they were both feeling, and she was grateful they were comfortable enough with each other to know that they didn't need to force it.
After a few moments, Sage felt him stiffen beside her. Tearing her eyes off of Nic, she watched as Weston's father stepped out of the last trailer and made his way toward the ship with the others.
"Do you want to go talk to him?" she asked gently.
He wrapped his arm around her a little tighter and shook his head. "We already said our goodbyes. I have nothing left to say to him."
Her heart twisted. The icy glint in his eyes was one she knew too well. There was no changing his mind. She wasn't sure if she could ever forgive Charles for all the ways he'd hurt her, but it didn't stop the ache in her chest as she mourned for Weston. He’d lost the relationship with his father a second time. She knew how it felt to lose someone—whether it was physically or emotionally didn't make much difference.
It was surreal, watching people board a ship that would remove them from Eprah for good. She was disappointed that so many had chosen to leave, but she wasn’t sorry. These were the people who would only have resisted their new freedoms if they’d stayed—resisted their new rights to live their own lives without a daily fear of dying.
She almost couldn’t believe Weston had been right: Some people fought change—even when it was for the better.
There was no fanfare, no formal farewell as the final passenger boarded and the ship cast off the dock. It just left, taking centuries of baggage and oppression with it. Somehow, she’d expected more from this moment. But it simply was, and somehow, it was perfect.
The other Lawless remaining with them on the beach watched somberly as the ship faded into the distance, no one uttering a word until it had shrunk on the horizon. One by one they turned to leave, but Sage felt as though her feet might never leave their place on the shore.
When they were the last ones left on the beach, Weston leaned over, his breath brushing her ear.
“Sage Indarra.” He paused.
She tilted her head back, looking into his eyes questioningly as she waited for him to continue.
“You’re free.”
“So are you.” A hint of a smile tugged at her lips as the tension built up from years of secrets began to drain from her shoulders. “So is everyone.”
Weston nodded and stepped back. She slipped her hand in his when he held it out for her to take. “And now, I think it’s time we live our lives.”
EPILOGUE
One Year Later…
Sage’s horse
snorted his displeasure at being shut back up in his stall. She didn't get to ride strictly for pleasure much anymore, but she'd needed to clear her head this morning.
“Sorry, boy. I have to talk to Weston.”
She rubbed his nose apologetically and then ran her fingers through her ponytail, trying to untangle the mess she’d made of her hair during her ride.
Pointless.
Wincing, she dropped her hand. She was officially giving up until she could get in front of a mirror, but that would have to wait for now.
As she made her way down the path to the main house, she spotted Eliza, Pippa, and Carnabel chatting nearby in the field, keeping a close eye on their recent tiny additions as they scooted around unsteadily in the dirt and flowers.
“Oh, no-no-no, don’t eat that!”
A grin spread across Sage’s face as she watched Pippa snatch something green and drool-drenched out of her baby’s fist.
After Grayson’s death, Pippa’s relocation made perfect sense. There had barely even been a discussion about it. Carnabel, on the other hand… Clarette had had to fight for Carnabel to stay on the estate. Sage had strongly opposed the idea but eventually relented for the sake of her baby. It was no real surprise that Carnabel had created a lot of enemies over the years, and living in the middle of the city would have been dangerous for both her and her child.
A lot had shifted since the Lawless had been in charge, but every once in a while citizens still took it upon themselves to enact their own versions of justice—with or without Chances and bracelets. And while those wayward citizens were usually discovered and punished, irreversible damage had already been done.
The child Sage had lost hadn’t been much more than a thought, but she remembered all too clearly how much it had hurt. She would never wish that kind of pain upon another person, no matter how terribly they’d treated her.
Carnabel looked up at that moment, locking eyes with Sage. She held her gaze with a small smile, another peace offering which Sage returned. The glance they exchanged was a little more than civil—not exactly warm, but it was far from the frosty ones they’d always used before.
