Forged Absolution (Fates of the Bound Book 4)

by Wren Weston

  Almost.

  “Tell us about your mission.”

  “Which one?”

  Lila and Mòr glanced at one another. Lila had thought the Italians only had one mission in New Bristol, but perhaps Olivier had been given other tasks.

  “Tell us about all of them,” Connell ordered.

  “Our primary mission was to learn about the oracles. Camille, Achille, and I were sent to infiltrate this compound, to find out if the oracles could actually foretell the future. Camille and Achille found out the old myths were true, but command didn’t believe us. We were given orders to extract a few of your young as proof.”

  “How did Camille and Achille feel about that?”

  “They disagreed.” He slouched in the metal chair, laying his head on his shoulder like a tired, rambling drunk. “They helped you retrieve your children, didn’t they?”

  “No. We didn’t need their help,” Connell said. “What of your other missions?”

  “I was to report back on the poorer classes. King Felipe believes they can be turned against the government and the aristocracy.”

  “We have no aristocracy,” Lila countered.

  “Of course you don’t, Chief Randolph, heir to a family that earns several billion credits a year.” He chuckled as everyone turned to Lila, their expressions locked in concern. “I’m sure the Randolphs keep all that money and power through talent and hard work.”

  “If the people wish for a family to fail, they can stop buying their products.”

  “The Randolphs don’t sell oil and gas to janitors and teachers, not without lowborn traders in the way. It’s how the highborn stay in power. They’re busy shaking hands with one another, pretending they’ve extended one to the masses, but they don’t have another to spare.”

  “What’s your point?” Lila asked.

  “My point is that it’s easy to sow unrest in such an atmosphere. Some of your people have already begun doing so. Two organizations, in fact. One is a crowd of discontents far too organized to be declared a mob. I saw them at the warehouse. The other calls themselves the Red Phoenix Army. It’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

  “They’re the assholes with the red armbands, aren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve seen them around the last few months. I meant to look into them further, but…” Lila stopped herself from making excuses. She’d had spies under her control when she first saw the mob at the Wilson estate, some marking themselves with the red fabric. She could have sent someone to investigate then.

  She just didn’t.

  “Are they organized too?”

  “Gloriously so. At least at the top. Most of them don’t understand they’re being led by a new master while they rally against the old.”

  “A few discontents do not make a revolution.”

  “A few discontents can easily turn into more. Your country does a good job of preventing it, though. It’s a brilliant system. A man eats so long as he works. If he steals because he doesn’t have a job, he becomes a slave. That’s unfortunate, but he gets food and a small amount of pocket money to buy what he wishes. You’ve solved political unrest with bread and circuses, just like my forefathers.”

  Lila had heard of the concept before, though she’d never phrased it as such. She’d used money herself to curb domestic violence on the compound while she’d reigned as chief, specifically among the workborn and slaves. If crime and abuse statistics pushed too high, she knew the worker’s salaries and the slave’s stipends hadn’t been going as far as they should. She’d begin the long process of negotiating with her mother for an increase, even though it was a fight every time. The Randolphs already paid better than most other families.

  She’d always thought herself right for doing so.

  Now, she wasn’t so sure.

  She wasn’t sure about other things. She and her father had always kept highborn crimes quiet in an attempt to prevent anarchy and chaos.

  But Tristan’s words had eaten at her over the last few days.

  How much longer did the workborn have to wait?

  They saw highborn after highborn charged with lesser crimes, escaping a hangman’s noose while those of their station did not. The same crime she’d keep within the family for a Randolph—so long as it happened on a Randolph property—she’d send along to Bullstow as an arrest if a workborn had done it.

  It had seemed right at the time.

  “As long as the poor aren’t starving, as long as they have just enough to buy a few trinkets to take their minds off the inequality around them, most of them will never think too deeply or complain too much,” Olivier said. “They have the next game to buy, the next movie to see, the next book to read. But some of your workborn are struggling to pay the circus’s admission. You’re beginning to lose more of them. The puppeteer has turned on the music, and he jiggles the strings and watches his little army dance.”

  “Who is the puppeteer?”

  “No idea, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re in a position of power. Someone has created a release valve. They spin the nozzle and wait for the discontents to blow off a little steam. All controlled, just like everything in these people’s lives.”

  “So are you a fan or a member?”

  “Both.” He laughed. “I joined the Red Phoenix Army and the ones who wear the brown coats.”

  Dixon pulled off the wall and scribbled on his notepad. Never seen him before. He’s lying.

  “What have you done as a member of the Red Phoenix Army?” Lila asked.

  “I’ve attended a few meetings and protests. I protested outside your trial, and I protested when Bullstow set you free. It stirred up the group, but they don’t seem to be doing anything about it. Not yet, anyway.”

  “And the other group?”

  “I heard only rumors at first. I had to get a job at the Holguín winery before they’d take me on. A favor here, a favor there. I guess that’s how—”

  “You let them in for a robbery.”

  Olivier grinned.

  “That wasn’t the only robbery you let them in for. The nitro?”

  He laughed. “I had a job at the Weberly compound before the winery. I made myself valuable to their interests.”

  Who’s your captain?

  “Frank Tully. He’s doesn’t trust me yet. He didn’t even contact me about the warehouse job. My friends died because of that oaf. I’ll kill him for it one day.”

  Dixon and Lila breathed easier. “Somehow I doubt you’ll get your chance,” Lila said. “Did Camille know of this other mission?”

  “Why would she? She and Achille had one task. I had the others.”

  “Tell me about the rest.”

  “I was also sent to observe Fort Rose and get a feel for how well armed the capital is.”

  “What did you find?” prompted Connell.

  “That you train the starving to be killers, that you buy their loyalty with better prospects and the illusion of hope. Our army is better and far less civilized. If we had the same numbers as the Allied Lands, we could have taken you ages ago, regardless of what your oracles see. Our error was in letting you ally. Our error was in allowing you to colonize.”

  “You didn’t have a choice. You failed to stop us.”

  “Proxy wars,” Olivier spat. “American colonists lobbing rocks against our empire in the south.”

  “We pushed deep into that empire. Mexico won their independence with our help. It’s quite a nice buffer zone between… Oh wait, South America broke from you as well, didn’t they?”

  “We are allies.”

  “Hardly.”

  “We share a pope.”

  “A pope who counsels peace.”

  “When the emperor wishes it.”

  “What else have you been tasked to do?” Lila asked.


  “Observe the highborn at their games. You do have so many of them.”

  “Any I would be interested in?”

  “I’m guessing you’d be interested in all of them. Your kind always are.”

  Lila narrowed her eyes. He was probably correct, but they didn’t have time to go through all of them that afternoon. “Where’s Achille?”

  “Dead. He tried to sweet-talk me after the prison break went awry, but I knew his true purpose. Achille never could lie well, just like that heretic bitch.”

  “Camille?”

  “I planned to execute her myself before we returned to Italy. I saw it back home, you know. The long glances, the mooning over her girlfriends. I didn’t know how much further this place could corrupt her until after we arrived. Listening to her go on about your gods was bad enough, but watching her fall in love with the enemy, and a female enemy at that? It went too far. I tried to beat it out of her, but it didn’t help. I don’t know why I bothered. It never worked for her parents. Even they knew she had the devil in her.”

  Kenna stiffened. “There never was a boyfriend, was there? It was you all along.”

  “Don’t make it sound like something it wasn’t. I tried to spare her from an eternity of hellfire. Besides, I know my own strength.”

  “That strength put her in the hospital!”

  “She put herself in the hospital.”

  “You’re blaming her?”

  “You’re damn right I am. She jumped from the roof of Achille’s apartment building. She even left a note. She knew she was a sinner, and an unrepentant one at that. Said she didn’t have the energy to deal with it anymore. She told us to turn back from our mission because your gods would conquer us in the end and that we should convert. But God saved her because he knew our cause was just. I told her so, but she tried to do it again. Pills. Twice. We had to find a back-alley doctor to fix that up. Achille never left her alone after that. He told me in the end that she only stopped to save her friend and the prophets. Maybe I should have shot her after I killed Achille, but I thought she still might make herself useful. It doesn’t matter, though. The bitch will die the second I get free. I bet she won’t even fight back. I bet she’ll beg for it.”

  Lila saw a blur of pale skin and heard a sharp whack.

  A red fist print lingered on Olivier’s cheek.

  “Call her a bitch again,” Kenna said, rubbing her hand. “Call her a traitor.”

  Olivier rubbed his cheek upon his shoulder. “You’re soft on her, aren’t you? Don’t bother trying to help her. Without Achille and me to look after her, she’ll murder herself within the week. God will send her to hell for that sin and for the sins of her heart, and Lucifer will burn the flesh from her body for all eternity, just as she deserves. She’s always known how her afterlife would play out. If I were her, I wouldn’t be in such a rush to meet the devil, but what can you expect from a stupid, traitorous, demon whore?”

  Kenna stood up, grasped Olivier’s armrests, and bent over him. “I’m going to put the poison into you myself. Soon. But before I do, I want you understand that Camille will never harm herself again, do you hear me? If she accepts our gods, then she’ll have to accept her quirks for what they are. And she’ll see that she’s been put exactly where she needs to be.”

  “Where is that?”

  “Home, you ignorant piece of shit. And by my daughter’s side.”

  Chapter 30

  Lila shuffled away from the guest cabin, one button of her borrowed purplecoat unbuttoned, her hand jammed inside to rest below her gunshot wound. In the last few days, she’d grown less sore, and Dr. McCrae seemed pleased with her progress. On the doctor’s advice, she’d even begun trudging around the track. Once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and twice in the evening, avoiding the rest of the compound as they worked out in their little groups.

  She might have walked more if Dr. McCrae had not explicitly warned her against it.

  La Roux’s baby still remained as strong and healthy as ever. Flickers of its life had begun invading her daydreams, but she still wasn’t sure if she wished to spend the next eight months paying the price for them to come true. Besides, even the unborn required money to survive, and her mother still had not returned hers. The deadline Lila had given the chairwoman had long passed.

  Lila’s bluster had also passed. After all, did she really want to get involved with her mother again, pleading with her to return something she didn’t necessarily need? What if she found her own money, her own path, her own way from now on? The only thing standing in her way was the principle of the thing. Her mother had stolen from her. Lila didn’t give a damn about the dividends, but to take her chief’s salary and her pay from the hospital? She’d traded away her youth for both jobs. It felt like a slap in the face. Perhaps it was meant to.

  Perhaps she’d give a slap back.

  But she had better uses of her time, didn’t she? She still had La Roux’s network to untangle and the oracles to secure. Mòr and her people needed her, and it seemed like a nice way to live for a while. No one exploiting another’s secrets to get ahead. No one squeezing a few credits from broken bones or from broken men. The oracle’s compound ran on cooperation. Staying with them had been a nice change of pace.

  Dixon seemed to agree. He had not yet returned to his old life either. He’d declared himself her nurse: cooking when she needed something to eat, fetching new books from the library after she’d finished the old, and managing the fireplace whether she wanted it managed or not. Blair visited in the morning and evenings, returning overnight to her tower. It was a good thing she didn’t stay then too. Dixon might be mute, but Blair more than made up for it.

  At least their headboard didn’t thump against the wall.

  When he wasn’t nursing Lila or spending time with Blair, Dixon worked. He’d helped Connell organize a brief evacuation of the compound so that the bombs underneath it could be disconnected, moved, and destroyed. He helped Lila search the oracle’s cabin for bugs, destroying at least one in each room. He’d also fetched a map so that Lila could work out how the compound’s security cameras might be used more effectively. She’d had quickly drawn up a list of equipment needed to fill the holes.

  Connell had accepted her help gratefully, intent on securing his lover’s safety and the safety of his compound. He had trouble admitting that he’d let so much happen on his watch, but Mòr had not allowed him to resign.

  Dixon also retrieved the radios from the two gatehouses on the property. Lila had unscrewed the casing and spent a long evening searching for Olivier’s tricks. When she found nothing, she’d trudged to the gatehouse herself and searched it with her snoop programs. Two chips had been hidden inside: a bug and a primitive jammer. After she removed the two devices, the static had lessened. It lessened further when she located another set in the south gatehouse and in the compound’s monitoring room. From the amount of static that remained, she could only assume that Olivier had hidden three more in the compound.

  Lila offered to run her programs throughout the entire compound, but Connell had promised to ask Olivier instead. According to the chief, he remained in the basement, calling for his own death. The aftereffects of the truth serum flowed through his body, gushing from him in waves of vomit, piss, shit, and pain.

  In the end, Connell didn’t need to give him the serum again. Olivier marked the bugs and jammers on the map as soon as Connell threatened him with another dose. Olivier knew there was no point in lying. He’d talk against his will anyway, and he’d have to endure the serum’s side effects.

  After removing the bugs, the static had cleared completely.

  The oracle had been so grateful that she’d given Lila a fine sum, the same fee that she’d earmarked for a company to troubleshoot the radios. Lila had been tempted to turn down the money out of pride, but she knew she couldn’t afford to any longer,
not if she decided to live the life of an exile. Besides, Dixon had assured her the money would be enough to pay her bills for at least a year, so long as she did not live extravagantly.

  Lila had taken the money. She needed it, regardless of whether or not she kept the baby, and Dixon had helped her begin the search for an apartment.

  If Helen had made the change, why couldn’t she?

  A contract now sat on her bedside table, breaking down every single security concern Mòr had for her compound. The oracle would pay Lila well for addressing each item, adding a bonus if she could finish the list within the next three months. A similar contract from the La Verde oracle sat beside it, and Mòr hinted that other oracles might send requests soon.

  Lila would not want for money, food, or shelter if she stayed with the oracles.

  But Mòr had been right. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the gods were watching her. She didn’t want to stay with the oracle children, but if she did have the baby, it might be the safest place for her, a place where she could receive help.

  At least for a little while.

  Lila pushed open the door to the admin building, the place she always ended up after her walks. The lobby looked as it had the first time she’d seen it. An entire militia shift had scrubbed the blood from the stones, and the ruined rugs and couches had been replaced.

  It didn’t seem as inviting, not after seeing Nico and Delilah struggle in their last moments on earth. She couldn’t help but recall Nico’s words the very morning of his death, that she was god-chosen, that death followed people like her, and that he didn’t want to die.

  Lila sat heavily on one of the couches, the same couch she’d sat on after her first long walk through the compound. That night, one of the admins had settled beside her on the couch, telling her of Nico’s last words. He’d joked about his migas recipe at first, saying he’d left it on his kitchen counter. He’d wanted the woman to put it away for him, so no one would steal it while he recuperated. But when Nico realized that he wouldn’t make it to the clinic in time, he’d asked the woman to tell his parents and his siblings that he’d loved them very much.