by Mari Dietz
William tried to reply, but Vic shook her head. He clamped his mouth shut and nodded. At least he could read her silent cues. There was hope for them yet. They might not be the best players in the game, but Vic would try for a while.
Vic went to the drink cart. “Would you like a drink, William dearest?”
“It’s best if I don’t.” Clean-pressed as ever, William let her mother guide him to sit across from Emilia. He looked out of place on the expensive furniture.
Vic selected one of the glittering glasses and poured herself a generous helping of whiskey. She took a deep drink and let it burn down her throat. “Are you sure?”
Just thinking about behaving made her thirsty.
“Water.” His jaw twitched, and he tried to relax on the plush sofa, but his posture remained rigid.
Vic flashed her teeth and poured herself another glass. “How very pure of you, dearest.”
Her mother giggled. “You two are getting along so well.” She clasped her hands in front of her, practically glowing.
Vic took another drink and pushed the water into William’s hands, spilling it a little. “We get along great. Whoever thought of a radiant and reaper together?” She tapped her head. “Brilliant. Just brilliant. The fact that he hates magic and I use it—you’d never think we’d be such a good match.” She sat next to him, the liquid in her glass tipping precariously as she put her arm through his. A clean linen scent filled her nose as she leaned into him. He smelled kind of nice. She cleared her throat. “I mean, look at us. Black and white. Nothing goes together better, right, Mother?”
Her mother’s smile flickered. Vic couldn’t help but try to crack through the facade. Everyone fell in line but Vic, and so she ended up throwing bitter barbs at them.
“Control yourself, Victoria.” Conrad Glass walked into the room.
The mood thickened. Behind him stood Tristan, the GicCorp heir, his sleek brown hair combed to the side. They both wore fitted suits. Tristan’s gray suit accented his light skin tone. His gaze went to Emilia, and he walked past their father to take Emilia’s hand.
“Lovely to see you.” His full lips pressed against her sister’s hand longer than necessary.
Every founder of age wanted to marry Tristan, not only because his family ran the city, but also because he was extremely handsome. Vic could painfully admit that she’d had a crush on him back when they’d had classes together. Even though he probably never lifted a finger, his muscles remained enticing under his fitted suits. Tall and with a broad frame, he always was polite and calm, but his presence commanded attention. Back when they were young, Tristan had drawn everyone to him. Vic didn’t know how much of that politeness was fake, but founders could put on a show, and Tristan was the headliner. Vic couldn’t put a finger on it, but he gave her a weird feeling, although everything these days bothered her. From Tristan, to Haven, to Nyx, her gut told her something was wrong, and she didn’t know how to explain it to anyone without making a fool out of herself.
Emilia blushed. “I’m so glad you could join us.”
Vic removed her arm from William, who glared at her. He must not have appreciated her earlier comments.
Her father’s cold gaze took in the couples. “Victoria, take note on how to act. Let’s not make a scene.” He strode across the room and tugged her glass out of her hand.
She dug her fingernails into her palms. “Sorry, Father. I wanted to acknowledge the genius behind this engagement.”
“Now that you have, you may be quiet.” The line of her father’s jaw grew white as he clenched his teeth.
“Oh, may I?” She slouched back and crossed her legs. An enormous feat in the fitted dress.
Emilia got off the sofa, her eyes wide, and Vic snickered. This gathering wouldn’t make it to the dinner table.
“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Victoria.” Tristan placed Emilia’s hand on his forearm. “What are you up to these days?”
Vic pointed to William as they both got up. “I’m marrying a radiant.”
Tristan eyed William in his white clothing, not betraying his thoughts. “I see.”
William sipped his water and placed it on the end table, his face impassive. Vic wondered what he thought of all this, but he was apparently staying out of it. Smart man.
Her mother clapped her hands. “Dinner is now ready. Why don’t we move to the dining hall?” She smiled at her husband and put her hand on his arm.
William offered Vic his arm, and seeing no reason to be rude, she let him escort her out of the sitting room. She’d never understood why women needed a guide to a different room. Were men afraid they would get lost between the sitting room and the dining room?
Vic blinked. She regretted drinking; it made her feel numb. That was nice, but with her father studying her with his sharp glare, she feared she might slip. After all, she should be quiet. How nice.
They all sat down, her mother and father across from each other and Vic next to her assigned man. The maid placed food on her plate. After going hungry for so long in the last few months, Vic thought she would want to eat whenever given the opportunity. Now that she sat back in her place, she wanted to vomit at the rich display of food. The founders could afford not to finish their meals.
“William, what do you do?” their mother asked.
William’s fingers rested on the silverware, and he turned his head. “I take part in the purification ceremonies and help those who don’t wish to change into a corrupted soul or mog.”
“How nice. Is your business going well, Tristan?”
Vic shoved a piece of food around on her plate. “Guess she’s done talking to you.”
William picked up a knife. “Most who use magic would rather not talk about losing it.” He cut into the chicken. “I don’t blame them.”
He bit down on the food, and Vic thought she saw his mouth turn up. As a radiant, he might not get meat other than fish very often. The true show of riches would have been beef.
Vic put her elbows on the table and leaned toward him. “I guess this must be weird for you. Don’t you live without magic? What do you think of this glass house?”
William eyed the large floor-to-ceiling windows at the end of the dining room. The night sky glimmered beyond. “It’s a nice home.”
A thud on the table silenced them. Vic saw her father’s fist on the table. “Victoria. Enough.”
“I’m just making conversation with my betrothed. Am I not allowed to get to know him? Or should we marry right here and now? I guess I know his name and occupation. That’s enough, right?” She pushed her plate away, knocking over her wineglass. The drink stained the tablecloth, bleeding out in a wide patch.
Her father pushed back from the table. “Excuse us, please.”
William glance between them, and Tristan remained still.
Her father left the room, leaving her behind. Every bone in her body told her not to go, but it would be worse if she didn’t. She followed him down the brightly lit hall to his office.
He opened the door and paused at the large black window. They did a trick with the glass so no one could see in, but they could see out. Perfect for keeping things hidden in this room. He poured himself a drink from the glass bar next to the window.
He took a slow drink from the glass. Vic didn’t know if she should sit or stand. She decided that remaining by the door was safest. Her heart ached as she watched her father. After turning down Tristan, she’d dreaded her visits with her father. She closed her eyes and saw the ghost of a young girl who would run into her father’s arms. He’d hold her up in the air while she’d giggle and laugh. Reality had found her, and she couldn’t stay young forever.
“Do you like your little life?” His tone dripped with disdain. He faced her. “Do you like being a reaper?”
“I do.”
He set his glass down on the bar with a clink. “When you didn’t meld with one of our family’s wands, it disappointed me. I made a misjudgment in giving you the scyt
he. As my eldest, who isn’t an imb, the only thing you are good for is marrying off.” He folded his hands. “However, I let you play with your relic. It has given you ideas you shouldn’t have.”
But you weren’t disappointed. Your face was happy when you handed me the scythe. You were proud.
Vic didn’t know what to do. What had happened to him? What had happened to turn his expression so blank? Why wasn’t he fighting for Em? Why would he let them take her away so soon? He was her father. Shouldn’t Haven bother him too?
“If you want me to marry the radiant, I’ll marry him. But I will not live here. Just leave me out of whatever you’re doing.”
It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t leave her alone until he got what he wanted.
He gently pushed the glass toward the edge of the bar until it fell, shattering on the ground. He stared down at the broken pieces. “Victoria, you’ve had an easier life than most. It’s time to face your responsibilities. You’ll not write yourself out of this family.” With measured steps, he crushed the broken glass under his heel. “I am the head of this house, and I know what’s best for you. As founders, it’s our honor to protect Verrin. My sister did her duty, and now your sister will too. They aren’t going to their deaths. They’ll only be separated from us.”
Vic clutched the sides of her gown. “I know what they say will happen, and it doesn’t mean I have to be happy about not seeing her again! What more do you want? You win. I already said I’ll marry him, and Em will go away. Are you still mad about Tristan?”
She refused to be part of what GicCorp did. They took people away to Haven to purify the magic, but they’d never explained how. Didn’t anyone else care about the hole in the story, or were they too scared to lose their places as founders?
Her father picked up a shard of glass from the ground. It cut his fingers, but he didn’t flinch. “Dear daughter, you do not understand what you are messing with. Fine, live with the reapers. Just fall in line when you need to.”
Fall in line with what? Vic held the question back. “Yes, Father.” She felt trapped. The city had become too small. She thought her sister bowed too much to their father, but she did the same, only with a louder mouth. Her loud mouth accomplished nothing. Her loud mouth didn’t change the fact they needed purified magic to live in this city. It didn’t change the fact that every founder needed to sacrifice a child.
“Let’s go back and behave in front of the heir of GicCorp, shall we? He’s doing us a kindness. Other families do not get this attention. Every founder family loses a loved one. Mourn in your way, but do it quietly.” Her father leveled his gaze on her and crunched through the glass. “Next time, wear appropriate shoes.”
“I don’t give a damn about my shoes,” she shot back.
His eyes darkened, but he didn’t reply.
They went back to the table in silence. Emilia’s gaze followed her, but Vic didn’t look her way. When she sat, she mechanically ate the cold, tasteless food on her plate.
“Is everything fine?” William whispered.
Vic copied her mother’s plastered-on smile. “Perfect.”
Her father and Tristan talked, with her mother simpering at everyone. The food became a lump in her stomach. She peered at her sister. Emilia smiled at Tristan whenever he looked her way, but when out of his line of sight, she stared off into the distance.
Vic couldn’t help it. She opened her mouth. “Tristan, do you know that my sister’s an artist?”
He wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin and placed it beside his plate. “I’m lucky enough to have a work by her.” He took her hand and squeezed. “Her talents will be appreciated.”
“Is glass-making handy when purifying magic, then?” His home, built of stone, was a dark place unlike theirs. “Emilia, do you want this?” Had anyone ever asked the vitals what they wanted? Or did they assume they wanted to be shut away in GicCorp for the rest of their days?
“Victoria—”
Vic stood, placed her hands on the table, and looked at her sister. “If you don’t, you can come with me. I have a place at Nyx, and I can support you.”
Her mother signaled frantically for the maids to leave the dining room. “This isn’t the time for such things.”
Their mother actually looked shocked. The whole city would rise against them if they didn’t provide a vital.
Her father pushed back his chair, and it crashed to the floor with his abrupt movement. “This dinner is over. William, would you take her home?”
William put down his silverware and got up from the table, but Vic didn’t move.
“Em, do you want this?” She desperately searched her sister’s face. Any hint that she wanted Vic’s help and she would get her out of this house.
Emilia folded her hands under the table and looked away. “Victoria, please leave. It’s an honor to serve my city. I’ll save many lives.” Her gaze moved up. “Including yours. Don’t dishonor me anymore. I gave you my answer months ago. Do you think I’m so weak that I can’t make up my own mind?”
Vic would have rather been slapped. “I won’t be coming back.” Her gown swished behind her as she stomped out of the dining room and into the foyer. She shoved the front door open, and it banged against the wall before slamming shut behind her.
Once outside the gate, Vic screamed into the night. It ripped from her throat and cut off with a frustrated sob. A confused couple rushed by her and the man shielded his date from the madwoman.
William appeared behind her, a white form in the dark night. “This is the worse time to say this, but that was not the best time to ask that of your sister. Are they allowed such a choice?”
Vic laughed and tugged down her hair, letting the waves fall down her bare back. “I know that, but I won’t see her again.”
“How do you know that?”
A tear forced its way down Vic’s cheek and turned cold in the night air. “I don’t know.” She hugged her middle. “Do you ever get the feeling we’re bugs caught in a web?”
“All the time,” he replied. Vic couldn’t tell what he was feeling.
Vic scuffed her boots on the stone. “You don’t need to walk me home.”
“You’re at the Nyx Order now?”
“Yeah.”
As she walked, the breeze calmed her hot skin. William remained next to her as they followed the path along the canal. He was a staunch magic hater, but his presence comforted her.
“According to my parents, our marriage is already on the books. Do you get any say?” Vic asked.
“I can’t say you’re my first choice.” He sighed. “If it will help the radiant, I will marry you.”
“Geez, thanks.” The blight swirled a soft lavender that reminded Vic of her mother’s dress. It looked peaceful. “Even if you don’t know why?”
“I guess I have to trust my father. Do you trust yours?”
“I used to.” Vic bit her cheeks and tugged on her hair. “Why does it feel like my sister’s a sacrifice?” She blinked up at William. “Why does it feel like by running away, I’m sacrificing her?”
“Aren’t we all sacrifices? Yes, the vitals go into GicCorp. They use all their magic. Rumors say their magic use is so intense they collapse from it every day. They never return. I don’t think she will suffer.” He turned down the road that led to Nyx. “Will she be happy?” His lips softened. “Is anyone?”
“I guess not.” People rushed back to their homes since it was too late to be out, and Vic strolled with her future husband, whom she barely knew. She’d reached her goal of joining an Order, yet she remained stuck. Those months of starvation had proved to be a childish rebellion. As a reaper, she was useless to save her sister. In Haven, they only wanted imbs.
The gates of Nyx were only a few feet in front of them, and Vic turned to William. “Should we hug or something?”
“No, thank you.”
Vic chuckled. “Way to hurt a girl’s pride.”
He quirked his eyebrows. “Do you need a hu
g?”
“Goodnight, William.”
“Goodnight, Victoria.”
Back in her dorm, Vic tore off her dress, leaving it on the floor, and put on her familiar clothing. Scraps rubbed up against her legs. She picked him up and buried her face in his fur. “I messed up.”
Vic placed Scraps on the bed and crawled under the covers. She rested and tried to sleep, but the faces of her family flashed in front of her. Then the image of Tristan stayed in her mind. She couldn’t be the only one who wondered what happened to the vitals. How could she even find out?
10
Vic
Vic put on her harness, folded her scythe, and hooked it on her back. With a deft twist, she tied her hair back. Dusk approached, and she’d spent the whole day trying to rest but had given up. Even though she was injured, she hoped to find her name on the board downstairs. Her trial wounds had scabbed over and her neck barely hurt. Spending another night thinking about her sister would drive her mad.
After petting Scraps, she left her room without looking at the glass figurine on her nightstand. Following the smell of food, she bounded down the stairs. Vic stopped in front of the boards and searched for her name. It was only her and Kai. She frowned.
“Newbies get one-on-one training.” The warm voice came from behind her, making her jump. “And we don’t go after mogs. Although you might not have a problem with them, Sparks.”
“When will I join a group?”
Kai grinned and leaned in with catlike grace. “You’re in my group.”
“Oh.” Vic didn’t know where to put her hands. Something about hunting alone with Kai excited her. Bomrosy had been right: good thoughts had done the trick.
Other reapers milled around the area to see where they were hunting. They remained in the middle like two statues. The smell of cedar filled her nose.
“Don’t you want to be under my command?” His low voice soothed her.
“I mean, you already put me in handcuffs. Do you often go out and catch your own members? I have to say, your strategy is strange.” She backed away from him and almost ran into another reaper. Why did it feel so awkward around him now?
