“Welcome, daughter.”
I raise my head enough to see my father, flanked by at least ten enormous Halves. Behind the Halves are two filthy men with long, tangled hair. Each man carries a leather whip in one hand and a dagger in the other.
“It can’t be.” I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
I shake my head, trying to clear it. This man standing before me can’t be my father. “I saw you surrounded by Halves. You couldn’t have survived.”
Even with everything Dayne told me, I still can’t shake the image of Captain Harkibel, surrounded by an ever-tightening ring of Halves. Whatever else he might have been, my father cared about his people. He would have done anything to protect the Dwellers; he was willing to give his own life for them. He wouldn’t have imprisoned them. He wouldn’t have tortured them.
My father steps closer to where I can see him without raising my head. He looks the same, except his salt-and-pepper beard has grown long and tangled. He has traded his sand-colored cloak from Subterrane Harkibel for a gray cloak of the Duskers. The crease of his brow and tight-lipped smile, once so familiar, now seem to have an edge of malice.
A feeling of dread creeps down my spine.
I twist my body to loosen the chains. At a command from my father, the Halves leave his side and surround me before I can break loose. Each one grips me with a scaly hand.
“I need you to be calm, daughter,” my father says. “You and I need to talk.”
“It’s you.” My voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere farther away than from inside my own throat. “You’re the Dusker…the Master everyone is talking about.”
“Indeed, I am,” he agrees.
I’m too surprised, too overwhelmed, to feel anything else.
As the pain begins to ebb, my thoughts grow clearer. “How…how did you survive the attack on the Subterrane?”
My father shakes his head. “Think Hemera.” He says it the way he did when I was trying to puzzle out the riddles he told me as a child. He stands waiting for the look of recognition to light up my face.
When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “The Halves are under my command. Their attacks on the Subterrane territory weren’t random. I ordered each and every one of them.”
“But…why?” My voice sounds strangled.
“Because the Duskers were beginning to grow suspicious of my extended absences, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they tracked my activities to Tanguro. I needed more time. Fabricating my own death was the solution.” He cocks his head. “Although I do regret any pain that mistaken notion might have caused you.” He does look sorry for a moment, and then his face smooths back into an unreadable mask.
“Destinel.” My breathing has gone short and ragged. “She was my best friend. You couldn’t have. You wouldn’t.”
“I know she was your friend,” he says, “but the only way for you to move forward was to have a clean break from the past.”
The tears gathering in my throat are choking me, making me cough and splutter.
“It was your job to protect her—to protect all of them!”
“It is my job, first and foremost, to protect you.” With a careless wave of his hand, my father dismisses the lives of hundreds.
I don’t believe you, I want to say. You’re joking. But my father never jokes.
“Taniel,” I say as the missing pieces begin to fit together. “He escaped to warn us about—you?”
A strange smile plays on my father’s lips. “Taniel’s escape was made possible because I ordered it.”
At the look of sheer bewilderment on my face, my father says, “Think of Taniel as the unwitting breadcrumbs that led you here. If it hadn’t been for him, you wouldn’t have known your destination.”
“You tortured him,” I persist, ignoring all else his words imply.
“Torture implies punishment. No,” he shakes his head, “this was about progress. This was about you.”
My father cocks his head at me, like he’s waiting for understanding to dawn on my face.
“About me?”
Tears are still leaking out of my eyes. I want to wipe them away, but the Halves are keeping my arms pinned at my sides. I can’t stand being so vulnerable, especially when my father just revealed he’s the reason why Destinel, Sirrel, and so many others are dead.
“I’m not cruel, Hemera.” His voice is disapproving, like he’s trying to explain an important truth to a sullen child. “Destroying the Subterranes, all of them, is a necessary part of all of this.” He turns to look at his two guards, who nod back at him.
My father stares at me, like he’s expecting approval to dawn on my face. If it wasn’t for the pain in my head, I would think I was dreaming all of this.
When I don’t say anything, he comes closer, bending over me so I can see straight into his eyes. “I’m doing what is necessary for you.”
I shake my head until my vision begins to blur. “I never asked for any of this.”
“Once my work is completed, we’ll possess all the power, and the Duskers won’t be able to challenge us. You’ll never have to hide again. You’ll be free.”
Free?
My father taps the swirls on my hand with one of his fingers. “You’ve learned the truth about the Duskers. They are oppressors, murderers. They would keep you weak so they can stay strong.”
I try to snatch my hand away, but the Halves hold me still.
“Why do you wear the cloak of the Duskers if you hate them?”
My father looks down at the gray cloak. “I wear the cloak because I couldn’t risk having my true identity exposed before everything was in place.”
“You have your army.” I jerk my head in the direction of the Halves. “If all you wanted was to overthrow the Duskers, what are you waiting for?”
“I was waiting for you, daughter.”
I stare, uncomprehending, at him. My throat has gone too dry for me to swallow.
“You are a Bisecter, both human and Halve, yet stronger than both. The most powerful force in the world.” He taps a finger above each of my black eyes. “I have put all of my resources, everything I learned when I was a healer, into trying to replicate you here. But the final, necessary piece was to bring you here in the flesh. Only you have the necessary strength to help carry out my plan. With your abilities, and my leadership, we’ll rule men and Halves together.”
“None of this makes any sense,” I say, working around the pain that throbs in my temples and slows my thinking. “You didn’t bring me here. I came on my own. There was no way you could have known….”
My father gives me a knowing look before turning to his guards. “Bring him in.”
CHAPTER 45
The two guards disappear through a tunnel. In seconds, they have returned with a prisoner struggling between them. They throw him down at my father’s feet.
The gasp has left my mouth before the prisoner has raised his head. Brice.
My father looks down at Brice with evident distaste. “Would you like to tell this part of the story, or shall I?”
“Hemera, please. I didn’t know—”
“Oh, you knew,” my father interrupts. “You chose not to believe.”
“What’s going on?” I glare daggers at my father. “What have you done?”
My father raises an eyebrow. “I only offered what your lover most desired.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand. And then, more softly, “Brice?”
Tears track paths down Brice’s cheeks. “He promised if I helped get you here,” his voice breaks, “he’d make me Captain of the Subterrane.”
“What?” I stare dumbfounded at Brice, his words jumbling together into nonsense.
My father looks at me like he pities my ignorance. “Did you think I didn’t know my best scout went missing during his shifts, and that, coincidentally, you were reported missing from your work assignment at the same time? Did you think my spies didn’t inform about what was
between you?”
“Then why didn’t you say anything?” I can feel my face turning hot.
“I thought I could use your indiscretion to my advantage.” My father shrugs. “And, as it turns out, I could.”
Brice tries to stand, but the guards keep him pinned to his knees. “Hemera, I’m so sorry.”
“No. No, this doesn’t make any sense. The Halves captured you. They brought you here as a prisoner.”
“Hemera—”
“I don’t believe you!” I struggle against the Halves surrounding me, but they hold fast. “This is all just…some sick joke.”
Please just let this be a misunderstanding. Please let this be a dream.
Brice doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. The truth is written across his tormented face.
Images flash through my mind like the rush of a waterfall. Brice’s lips on mine. The way he looked at me when he told me he loved me. His hands moving across my bare skin in the darkness of our secret cave….
The Dwellers’ whispers, which had begun to feel like a distant memory, return in full force. What could he possibly see in her…?
“It was all a lie,” I say. The walls of the catacombs begin to close in around me. My lungs squeeze.
“It wasn’t, I swear.” Brice holds out his hands, pleading. “I loved you—I do love you. I fell for you long before your father made me…his offer.”
My eyes sting like they’re being pricked by a thousand tiny daggers, but something stronger keeps my tears in check.
A dozen things that hadn’t made sense…how my father knew about our cave behind the waterfall, the way Brice sometimes seemed far away even when we were inches apart, the look on Brice’s face when he deciphered the message on Taniel’s arm….
“You knew about Taniel,” I say. “You knew what my father did to him, and you still helped lure me here?”
It can’t be. It can’t—
“Please.” Brice tries to wrestle his way to me, but the men hold him back.
Anger clears my vision. “How could you?”
“I should have told you. I wanted to tell you. But it was real. Hemera, I swear it was real.”
“I trusted you.” Like a fool, I believed every word. Because I wanted to believe…had been so desperate to belong somewhere.
Brice holds his hands out to me. “Hemera, please. Being Captain would have given us the power to do what we always planned…hunt the Halves ourselves. It was the only way to give us both the revenge we always wanted.”
The revenge we always wanted. Is that what I wanted?
“I wanted you,” I choke on the words.
“You have me.” Brice’s voice breaks. “You always will.”
I round on my father, snarling. “And you told him exactly what to say to make me believe—” make me believe he needed me as much as I needed him. The unspoken words hang in the air.
My father knew, at least on some level, the guilt I carried for my mother’s death. He must have known exactly how I’d react if Brice was threatened with a similar fate—must have known I wouldn’t sit idly by a second time while the person I cared for most was at the Halves’ mercy.
“I never wished to hurt you, daughter,” he says.
A bizarre cackle comes out of my mouth.
“I did warn you Brice might not want you if he knew all of what you are,” my father says. “Coming here was the only way you would see both him and yourself for what you really are.”
My father’s words from what feels like a lifetime ago return to me now. If the scout knew what you can do…if he knew your differences were more than just your eyes…. A choked sound escapes my throat. I turn my head away from them both.
“Hemera, of all people, you have to understand why I did what I did.” Brice’s eyes plead with me.
“How dare you.” My heart beats a furious rhythm against my ribs.
“You have to believe me.” Brice’s voice is even more desperate now. “I never knew how far he meant to go—”
“Stop it.” I try to clap my hands over my ears, wanting nothing more than to block out the lies and betrayal and sound of my heart shattering. But the Halves keep my arms pinned by my sides. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”
“Get him out of here.” My father waves a hand.
The two filthy men wrench Brice to his feet. One of them shoves Brice while the other gives him a swift kick in the gut. Brice doubles over.
“Don’t be too hard on him,” my father says in the silence that follows. “Ambition is a powerful drug.” He frowns. “For what it’s worth, I believe he did love you.” He cocks his head to the side, thinking. “At least, he loved the person you were when you were trying to be like the rest of them.” His mouth twists in disgust.
A muffled cry comes from Brice as the guards drag him away.
“He was never your prisoner.” My voice breaks. “He was working for you the whole time.”
“He was working for me until he saw the full extent of my work here,” he corrects. “When his weakness overcame his ambition, Brice was no longer any use to me. He didn’t have the stomach to oversee my experiments, and so I confined him with my other slaves.”
“How could you do this…to me?” I choke out. “I’m your child.”
Betrayal. The word thrums in my chest.
“To you?” My father shakes his head. “I did all of this for you.”
My father begins to pace back and forth in front of me. “I knew after you found out he had been taken you would go back to your cave behind the waterfall.”
A wave of sickness passes through me at the reminder. My father knew about our special place. He knew everything about us. Because Brice traded it all….
“I left the map so you wouldn’t waste time wandering aimlessly,” my father explains.
“You left the map?”
For a moment, I imagine lunging at my father and wrapping my hands around his throat.
“Can you imagine another who knows these lands so well?” he counters.
“And it was you who gave Brice’s drawing to the Halves, wasn’t it?” I say through gritted teeth.
My father nods. “In spite of your strength, you were yet untrained. I sent some of my more obedient Halves to make sure you arrived unharmed.”
“Why not just save yourself the trouble and make the Halves bring me here by force?” I ask bitterly.
My father shakes his head. “If I had brought you by force, you never would have learned your true strengths. Making the journey on your own was the only way to prepare you.”
I raise my head, ignoring the wave of dizziness. “Let me go,” I snarl at the Halves.
The Halves’ eyes flick from me to each other. Even through the haze of my fury, I see an intelligent gleam in their black eyes I hadn’t noticed before. It’s familiar in a way I can’t quite place.
A few of them begin to loosen their hold, but at a nod from my father, the two guards stride forward. They lash out at the Halves with their daggers and whips. The Halves cower.
“You cannot stop the wheel of change, Hemera,” my father says. “You can either climb aboard or be crushed beneath its weight.”
I’m choking on fury and betrayal. I can’t speak.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Would you like to hear my plan?”
He doesn’t wait for me to say anything. My father clasps his hands behind his back in the same way he always did in the Subterrane when he was giving a speech.
“The Duskers would have annihilated the Halves. But I saw their potential. For years, I have been experimenting with blood sharing between Halves and humans.”
“Blood sharing?!”
“To recreate what happened to you in the womb.” He says it like it’s obvious. “Think about it…an army of Bisecters.” He stares down at the puddles of blood on the floor. “I have managed to enhance the potency of some of the Halves’ blood,” he waves a hand at the ones holding me.
Now I know what it is about the
se Halves that’s familiar. They have a look about them—both more intelligent and more alert—that reminds me of Ekil. I remember when I asked Ekil why he was different from the other Halves, he mentioned something about his blood being changed. I hadn’t understood it at the time, but now it’s starting to make sense. My father has been experimenting on them…enhancing their blood….
“But Halve blood alone is not enough,” my father continues. “My human subjects are too weak.”
If I wasn’t seeing it all for myself, I never would have believed this man standing before me is the same one who defended his Subterrane from the Halves. I would never believe it was my father killing people and enslaving Halves. I’m too angry to feel hurt or betrayed or a thousand other emotions I know I should be feeling.
My father is a murderer.
I think about Destinel, my best friend in Subterrane Harkibel. I remember how she was there for me after my mother died. I remember how, after that, she was always the first one to defend me when the others called me a freak. I remember her face, streaked with blood.
A sick feeling grips my insides.
“How many people have died in your insane experiments?” I ask. “When does it all end?”
He walks over to one of the cauldrons. I follow the direction of his gaze and suck in a breath. The tube dripping brown blood into the cauldron is connected to my forearm.
It’s my blood being drawn into the cauldron. I stare up at my father, wild-eyed.
My father motions to one of his filthy guards. “We have what we need.” A yelp escapes me as he pulls the tube out of my arm. “Preserve the blood, and guard it with your life.”
The guard scuttles out of the main chamber, hugging a small vial to his chest like it’s a baby.
“I still don’t understand—”
“Your blood is the answer to everything!” My father sweeps his hand up in an arc. “We can make more of you. You will no longer be the only one of your kind.”
“More…Bisecters?” The full weight of what he’s doing finally hits me.
Bisecter Page 26
