by Mari Dietz
The statue of Vic captured her motion and her passion. However, while the statue looked forward, she also reached back. The long, clear arm stretched toward her sister. Emilia had never made herself before, but unlike Vic, the statue of Emilia showed a calmness. Her eyes gazed at her sister, not in the direction they traveled, and she had a soft, sad smile on her lips. She reached for her sister, but with an artistic eye, you could see she’d already let go of Vic’s hand, letting her sister go. She understood what Vic wanted, but she couldn’t give it to her. Even if it meant she would never see her sister again, she would devote her life to keeping her safe. Her sister saw her as delicate, but Emilia would prove to her that she was strong.
An ache formed in Emilia’s chest. She slapped her cheeks.
“I need to get ready,” she told herself and glanced around her room. There wasn’t much to prepare. The glass windows made her room, filled with molded glass shapes of all colors, light and airy. Vic had sometimes teased that her room reminded her of an exploded rainbow. Thoughts of her sister hurt. She should have spent her last weeks with her, but Vic had made choices for both of them. Now there was no time left.
Emilia had always been the quiet one, but her art showed more emotion than she ever let out. I can’t let them out.
If Vic saw her hesitate, she would drag her somewhere and tie her up. Emilia sighed at her sister’s overprotective nature.
One wall held containers of different colored sand. She traced her fingers through the grains. The feel of sand always comforted her. Emilia stepped back. It would be better to leave it all behind. She didn’t know what she’d need, but her relic warmed her hand. That was probably all they wanted from her anyway.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.” She folded her hands over her stomach.
Her father entered. His eyes took in the glass sculpture, and he froze. Emilia saw the flicker of defeat in his eyes. Vic saw only an emotionless man because she couldn’t see what lay behind their father’s once happy eyes. Emilia had learned to see past the surface. This gave her art life. He’d had to give up his sister, her aunt, and now his daughter to protect the city. It wasn’t as easy for him as Vic believed.
He stood at the door, his posture as stiff as ever, every proper emotion in place. The corner of Emilia’s mouth turned up. Vic had never learned to play their game, the one where you nodded and played along with others more powerful than you. The game let you know when you had to be a dutiful daughter. The game also told you when you’d lost and needed to give in. All the founders played. They all had to lose at least once. To save the city, it was necessary.
“Are you ready? There’s time to say goodbye before Tristan arrives.” Her father blinked, and his wall of emotion crumbled.
Emilia smiled and placed her hands on his arm. “Yes, Father. I decided not to take anything with me. I’m sure the Nordics will have everything I need for my meditation.”
His cold hand grasped hers. They stood like that, daughter gazing up at her father.
“Emilia.” Desperation rushed through his face, and his arm shook under her hand. “You can r—”
“Do you like my last work?” Emilia swallowed the large lump in her throat. Tristan wasn’t here yet, but she didn’t want her eyes to be red. She couldn’t be tempted. If she left, the founders could take all the family’s relics. Then her family would become mogs. She could cut ties with them and only lose her relic. The founders gave up one of their children for the safety of the city, but Emilia was doing it for her family. That was the only reason she didn’t break down.
His eyes glanced away from hers, and a wistfulness came over his face. Her father relaxed, and her heart warmed at seeing her father again.
“You captured your sister.” He walked to the sculpture and raised his hand to Vic’s cheek. He lowered his hand and turned to the statue of Emilia. “She won’t understand.”
Emilia’s shoes clicked on the floor as she joined her father. “I know.” Emilia glanced at the door. “Where’s Mother?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, she can’t.”
Emilia tried not to let the hurt show on her face. “I understand.”
Her father sobbed in frustration. He stared at the ground, his shoulder’s rising and falling. Then one by one, his fingers on his left hand clenched into a fist. He wrapped his other hand around his left forearm. With a jerk, he straightened himself. The wall stood strong once more.
The musical notes of the doorbell rang through the house. They both stilled.
Emilia recovered first. “He’s here.”
Her father offered his arm. They walked together to her bedroom door. As they passed through the threshold, Emilia tugged on her father’s arm and stopped. She took one last look at her room and the glittering sculpture at its center. The handle felt cold in her hand as she gently shut the door on another person’s life.
They continued forward in silence. In the sitting room, Tristan already stood next to the drink cart.
“Do you have time for a drink?” her father asked.
Tristan shook his head. “I need to get back to my family. I came to get Emilia. The others are arriving today.” He smiled, showing his teeth.
Emilia admitted Tristan stood out amongst all the others. His brown hair fell softly across his forehead, and when he smiled, a dimple appeared in his right cheek. His shoulders were wide enough to give him a lovely stature. He would make an amazing model for her art. She gently bit her tongue. She didn’t want to immortalize him in her art. He was beautiful, but something behind those eyes didn’t sit right. They were older than normal.
She’d never mentioned this to her parents. When her father had told her that she was to be a vital, she hadn’t understood what that meant. In school, they’d made it out like a grand adventure. Emilia took a breath of the sweet air in her home. She wasn’t Vic. She understood the meaning behind the actions of those in her life. Even though she didn’t understand Tristan yet, she had a strange feeling she didn’t want to. His old eyes frightened her.
Her hand didn’t leave her father’s arm. In a moment of weakness, she gripped her fingers into his flesh. He didn’t react, but she knew he felt it. Protect me too, Father.
She let go, the moment gone. She smiled at Tristan. “Shall we, then?”
Tristan nodded. “My mother’s so excited to help everyone prepare for their meditations before the ceremony.” He scanned the room. “Are your things packed?”
“There’s nothing I need from here.”
If he found that odd, he said nothing. He offered her his arm, and she slipped her hand on top of it.
Tristan nodded to her father. “We will see you at the vital ceremony.” He patted Emilia’s hand. “There is nothing to worry about. I know this must be hard on you, but I assure you that Emilia will be well taken care of in our home.”
Something flickered in her father’s eyes. “I have no doubt.”
Good job, Father.
Tristan escorted her to the front door, her father following.
Emilia stopped.
“Is something wrong?” Tristan asked.
Her lips parted. “I’m sorry, but I would like to give my father another hug.”
Tristan smiled understandingly.
She stepped unsteadily toward her father, then wrapped her arms around him. Just a moment. I just need this one moment, please. Her father tightened his arms around her.
“Protect her,” Emilia whispered.
He gripped her tighter, but they both knew they needed to release each other. With another slight exhale, she dropped her hold. Her father’s arms fell to his sides. She turned away and put her hand back on Tristan’s arm.
They walked past the doorway to Tristan’s waiting car. The imb driver waited outside and opened the door for them. She slid inside, and Tristan followed her.
With a hum, the vehicle started, and they drove away from her home. Emilia stared out the window. The city of Verri
n was all stone and water. Part of the center of the city was kept polished and bright. She thought it lacked in color.
“Forgive me. I don’t think I understand why I can’t see my family.”
Tristan shifted next to her and tapped his long fingers on the armrest. “They explain this in our history. The magic you will use connects you to the device in the corporation. If you leave, you will lose that connection and your life. We keep trying different things, but it doesn’t work to purify the blight. What we use is an ancient relic made before our time.”
Emilia nodded, pretending like she understood. “Couldn’t families visit?”
She shouldn’t press, but there was something he wasn’t telling her. Now that she was stuck, maybe he would tell her. Apparently, if imbs came in contact, they would also attach to the relic. It was never clear.
“Are you doubting your purpose?”
She had pushed too much. “No, I guess things weren’t really explained.” She smiled brightly. “I have no doubts.”
They made Haven vague on purpose, and that very vagueness didn’t work for Vic, though it comforted most families left behind. Vitals were heroes going in to fight something, but no one knew how.
He nodded and didn’t respond. He never did. His old eyes saw too much.
The ache in her chest grew the farther they drove, filling her ribs and making it hard to breathe. She rubbed her fingers together, wishing she had a pouched of sand with her.
The dark stone walls of GicCorp rose in front of them. They passed through the first gate. Many workers milled about the main area, where they brought in the corrupted magic and turned it into the purified magic for the population of Verrin to charge their orbs. Different stone buildings all connected to the charge lines out in the city. She remembered this much from a school trip.
They drove farther into the Nordic estate. In the first area, they hosted social gatherings among the founders.
They pulled up to the main entrance and stopped. Tristan held out his hand, and she took it, letting him help her out of the vehicle. Her heels clicked on the stone.
The main entrance loomed over them. The white, smooth pillars were familiar. They walked through the main entrance, and the large stained-glass dome made their skin different colors.
Tristan noticed where her eyes rested. “Maybe you can make another window for the home.”
“Perhaps.” She wasn’t here to make glass. They both knew it. She’d rather he didn’t bother faking it.
He led her down several identical hallways and opened a door into a white, airy room. From the floors to the curtains, everything gleamed white.
“This is where you can stay until the vital ceremony. Afterward, you will be taken to Haven with everyone else.” He paused as she walked farther into the room. “There’s clothing for you. Did you need anything else?”
A new life? She placed her hand on a plain white end table. “Everything is wonderful. What will my duties be while I’m here?”
“My mother will be by to greet you and tell you what they need. You’ll spend your last days in meditation, preparing to leave this world behind.” He stepped forward and reached out to brush back a strand of her hair. “You’re exquisite.”
She forced herself to remain still. She felt no excitement at his touch. She lowered her eyes in fake bashfulness. “Thank you.” What did he want? He saw something she didn’t. What did he mean?
“I’ll leave you to get settled.” He shut the door, and his footsteps disappeared down the hall.
Emilia went to her closest and ran her hand over the clothing. Jewel tones and expensive fabrics. She stepped back and took in her white room. Would her new family appreciate a rainbow explosion? She regretted leaving her sands behind. Wouldn’t it have been kinder to let her spend her last hours with her family than here, sitting with her thoughts?
She slipped off her heels and let the cool stone floor soothe her feet as she padded to the window. Sitting down in the alcove, she grabbed her wand and felt the comfortable heat of magic flowing through it. She’d figured she’d used up all her magic finishing the statue.
A tiny amount of magic trickled down her wand, and she swirled a pattern in the clear window of her new room.
She wondered how Vic’s first day as a reaper had gone. Maybe her mother would finally smile for real again. Would her father survive the choice he’d made? Emilia laughed. Did they have a choice? They all could have died together. She knew that her father regretted that she needed to leave.
“I’m the dutiful daughter.” I’m also a fool for not asking more questions.
She molded the glass until her magic ran out. The wand’s warmth turned cold. She stared out at the city of Verrin. The glass that used to be her friend now separated her from everything she loved.
“But if you’re happy, I can survive this.” She rested her forehead against the cool glass and waited for her new duty in her too-white room.
13
Vic
Vic helped Kai escort the four reapers to the holding cells in the basement of Nyx.
“Commander, you need to understand that it’s in your best interest to let us go. We won’t even mention this.” Freckles tried to plead with him one last time with her hands on the bars of the cell.
Vic wondered if they were acting too rashly by turning in the reapers.
They left the basement and walked toward Xiona’s office.
“What do you think they’re doing?” Vic asked.
“Warning me that someone powerful gave them the order.” He quieted as other reapers returned from their routes and filled the halls. “What I don’t know is if it’s Xiona or someone higher up.”
In Nyx, there wasn’t anyone higher than Xiona. Could it be someone outside the Order? “If we tell Xiona and she’s in on this, we could end up like them?” Vic pointed back to where they’d left the other reapers.
“Maybe.”
“Comforting.” Nothing like an exciting first day at work. Despite everything, she might end up where she’d started: starving in a smelly room.
At the end of the first floor, they went to Xiona’s room and knocked on the wooden door. They both listened, but there was no answer. Kai pulled her to him. “It might be better if you weren’t there when I talk to her.”
“Oh?” In all fairness, she was the one who’d dragged him into this. If it all went south, she should be there. She couldn’t stay quiet now that she’d confirmed with Kai that reapers were killing people.
His grip tightened. “If it’s something we’re not supposed to know, I’ll be more protected than you. You’re an unknown, and she might not risk you knowing.”
“She’ll kill me?”
He released her arms. “No, she wouldn’t kill you. Just maybe kick you out.” Weary, he leaned back against the stone hallway.
Vic smiled wryly. “And my brand’s just healing too.” She touched his bare arm. “I think I need to be there and tell her what I saw the other night.” It felt wrong to leave Kai on his own. After all, he’d just given her a lesson on teamwork. She might be ignoring the part about listening to orders again, though.
Kai pushed away from the wall, and they left the door to Xiona’s office behind. “It isn’t necessary. I’ll tell her all she needs to know.”
“Will you, now? I guess I’ll meet with her on my own.” She didn’t need his protection.
“You’re going to be stubborn.” Worry crossed his face. “Is there any way I can convince you that this is a bad idea?”
Vic stayed out of politics, and she’d actually run away from them when she’d thought she’d have to marry Tristan. “It’ll be fine.”
If she could only believe those words, that would be great.
“Let’s grab something to eat while we wait for Xiona to get in from her patrol.” Other officers padded to their rooms and nodded to Kai.
“Now that’s a great idea.” Vic wanted to sleep too. It was getting harder to stay upright.
Vic, for once, didn’t feel very hungry, so she piled fruit onto a plate and sat next to Kai.
He eyed the amount of food on her plate. “That’s all you’re eating, Sparks?”
“I thought I was hungrier than I was.” He didn’t have much either.
With his fork, he stole a strawberry from her plate and popped it in his mouth. “Delicious.”
“Excuse me?” She grabbed his roll, took a bite out of it, and put it back on his plate.
He stared at the mutilated roll. “That’s just cruel.”
She nudged him. “You started it.”
He settled on the wooden bench and pushed his food around on the plate. “My sister always stole my strawberries.”
Vic crunched down on a grape and juices filled her mouth. “So it’s my job to supply you with them?”
He smiled whenever he mentioned his sister. Vic liked that talking about his family made him relax.
“Didn’t you know that’s the newbie’s job? To feed her commander?” His eyelids lowered, and his gaze heated her.
“Is it?” She moved closer, their thighs touching under the table. “You fed me first.”
“I was afraid you’d starve to death before the trials happened.” He took her hand and slowly rubbed his thumb over her palm.
Food forgotten, she pushed the silverware to the side. “I thought you would pile food at my door.”
He leaned down, his face inches from hers. “Would you have taken it?”
“Probably not.” Her heart thudded.
“Are you two eating each other for breakfast?” They jerked apart. Bomrosy stood over them. She quirked her eyebrow. “Xiona’s back. Someone told me you were at her office earlier and may need to see her, but I could leave you to throw Kai on the table and have your way with him.”
