by Lucy Smoke
I get up and follow him into the hallway. When we reach the study, it's clear that we weren't the only ones to be called in. Everyone is here. Even Penelope, who sits on Vincent's lap. Today she has an unusually quiet disposition; so very different from the bubbly little spitfire I have come to know. Then again, no one has been in much of a lively mood since the funeral. Not even her. Aaron takes my hand as we enter the study, and though a part of me—the independent part—wants to snatch my hand back, I don't. I need the contact, crave it even. It makes me feel less alone. I've even taken to sleeping in Aaron's room lately. Or Haze's. Or Thayer's. None of them have turned me away; not after that first night after the funeral. I still remember it with a biting chill.
Darkness. Frozen fingers reaching for me, dragging me into a deep cavern of pitch and tar. I can feel ice racing along my flesh, eating at the living molecules in my skin. I gasp for breath and yet, feel nothing in my lungs. Is this death? Am I dead?
No, I can't be. Because if I was dead, then I'd be with Kida. I just know it. I know, deep down, that if I die right now, I will be with her. I want that more than anything else in this world. The world could swallow me whole, sweep ice into my arteries... anything. So long as I end up in Kida's arms at the end of it all. I'll take whatever the world dishes out and I’ll take it with a smile because soon, it wouldn't matter.
I can't wait to feel her cheek against mine. Her lips touching my face—my forehead, my nose, my own chapped, lifeless lips... lifeless? Yes, that's what I will be if I let death take me now. I'll be without life. I'll be like Kida. That's what I want.
But, is it what she would have wanted?
I gasp, not recognizing the voice. It’s deeper, foreign. I turn over, away from it, seeking the frost once more as a burning heat touches my spine and lights a path down my back.
Do you really want to die, Cassandra?
Yes, I answer. There’s nothing left for me here in this world. I don't have Kida and therefore, I have no hope. No family. No future.
That's not true, though, is it? the voice argues, becoming clearer. It isn't completely unfamiliar now. It is... new... but not unknown.
Please, I say, just go away. Let me die.
I can't do that, Cassandra. You were meant to live. Now, wake up.
What? But even as I question his command, my eyelids flutter open.
Noaz's dark eyes glitter down at me as I lie, alone, in my bed. Tears stain my cheeks and my pillow. A spot of blood drips onto the sheets and air shudders into my chest, tight and restrained. In my sleep, I had scratched myself until I bled. I look around, and the room reflects the state I’d been in when we had returned from the docks, from letting Kida's body return to Earth. The carnage reflects the turmoil of my emotions.
The dresser had been turned over in a fit of helpless raging grief. There is shattered glass on the floor, broken shards—from where I don't know. I hardly remember returning to this room or falling asleep at all.
Noaz doesn't say anything more as he helps me out of the bed and takes me to the bathroom to clean my scratches and quickly spray them with medicine that will enable faster healing.
When silent tears keep falling from my eyes, he doesn't berate me. He simply picks me up and, instead of taking me back to my room, takes me to Thayer's. Thayer answers the door looking haggard and tired. He’s dressed in nothing but low-hanging, hip-hugging, synthetic cotton sweats. One look at me, though, and Thayer straightens and casually accepts me from Noaz's arms. I am too far beyond the point of understanding, and I don’t think to ask where Noaz is going when he leaves me with Thayer. I only know that exhaustion is pulling me under and I’m afraid. I’m afraid to fall asleep for fear of what I’ll do to myself in my sleep. For fear of the dark dreams that will seek me out and attempt to pull me back under. I shudder in Thayer's arms.
It’s only later that I learn where Noaz went; back to my room to clean it up. He had swept the glass from the floor, righted the dresser, and stripped the blood and tear stained sheets from the bed. I haven't been back to that room since.
"Thank you all for coming," Noaz says, pulling my attention back to the present. I squeeze Aaron's hand as the door closes behind us.
"What's this about?" Haze asks, taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of Vincent's desk. He slumps down, looking just as tired as the rest of us. Thayer moves over to my side and takes my other hand.
Noaz's eyes flutter over the three of us before he turns back to the majority. "The Architect is dead."
I don't blink. I don't even move. What is one more death to me now? But I'm the only one that has that reaction. I guess I'm the only one who feels this hollow—like a pinpricked, rare chicken egg with the yolk all dribbled out through that small hole in my fragile shell. That shell is all that remains, and I gaze out of it, watching as Haze's eyes widen and Thayer pulls away to move towards the desk. Even Levi looks shocked and worried. Vincent looks pensive, thoughtful even, but unsurprised. He already knew, I deduce.
"What does that mean?" Levi asks as he steps up next to Aaron.
I know I should worry about the two of them—knowing how Aaron feels about him... knowing how Levi feels about... us? I don't even have a clue why I'm trying to think of that right now.
"It means," Noaz announces, "that we have our work cut out for us."
"He was murdered—an intended assassination hit."
"Because of what he knew about the cities failing." I say this so quietly, even I'm a little shocked that the words actually left my lips. I guess even in the midst of bone-wearying grief, I have to feel useful.
Vincent nods, though, cementing my belief that he knew beforehand of Archie's death. "Someone's trying to cover it up." Vincent's hand moves over Penelope's as it rests on her ever-expanding stomach.
"Who would do that?" Thayer asks.
"Someone who obviously knew what he knew," Noaz answers.
"So, what are we going to do about it?" Haze asks.
Noaz looks over the group of us—from Aaron and me, to Thayer, Levi, and Haze. "We're going to Corvallis," he says.
There's a beat of silence from everyone in the room. Even I'm a little shocked. I expected something grand, but not a trip to another city—somewhere I would have leaped at the chance to go a mere few weeks ago. Now, it’s like my dreams are coming true, and the one person I planned those dreams with won't be with me. I direct my gaze to the floor, even as Noaz continues talking.
"Vincent and I have discussed this at length, and it would be wise of us to travel to each of the cities—Corvallis, Basra, Bath, and Dendera—as ambassadors."
"Not Arawn?" Levi asks suspiciously.
Noaz shakes his head. "Not yet," he replies sternly. "We're purely on a fact-finding mission. Vincent has been kind enough to garner meetings with each governor of the cities, but not all of us will be attending. When the Architect died, he had a message geared up to send to Vincent. The information is a bit dated. It seems he had it set up more than several months ago, and every week—unless he checked in and typed in a passcode—it was ready to send. If he missed a passcode check in, it would automatically send. We only discovered it a few days ago."
"How long has he been dead?" I find myself asking and lift my head to meet Noaz's gaze.
Strong, but unreadable eyes meet mine. Noaz remains unwavering. "I'm sorry, Cassandra, but the coroner's report suggests that he was killed not long after you last saw him." Another blow to my chest. I'm shocked that I'm not bleeding out over Vincent's luxurious study. "We'll be leaving for Basra in a month when the next official airship docks."
"Until then," Vincent says, "you will be in training. I know this has been a difficult time." It doesn't take a genius to figure out that when he looks across the room and his eyes linger on me that he knows I'm the one having the most difficulty. "But, I want all of you in top shape. The other cities are vastly different from Tartarus. I know some of you are familiar with a few of them, but none of you—aside from Noaz—is familia
r with all of them. As such, starting tomorrow, you will go into training with Noaz as your guide."
Thayer groans loud and grievously, for which Haze casts him a raised eyebrow. Vincent ignores him, but Penelope's passive expression comes to life just a little bit when her lips twitch. Thayer's groan can only mean that I'll have more than enough reason to sleep like the dead at the end of every day for the next month. I physically flinch at the poor wording of my own thoughts. Aaron notices and looks down at me curiously, but I avoid his gaze easily enough, dropping his hand and stepping closer to Vincent's desk. I cross my arms, barely resisting the urge to rub away the chill from my skin, despite the high-tech heating and cooling system that Vincent has installed.
"The training is for more than keeping our bodies in shape, isn't it?" I ask.
Everyone looks at Vincent and Noaz expectantly. Noaz is the first to speak. "Things are shifting," he says. "There is something on the horizon that we must be aware of. Powerful players are putting pawns on a chessboard. The training is to get everyone focused on the future rather than the past. The Tanks were only a small part of what we're looking at. They were backed by someone much more influential. They, too, were merely pawns in this game that has already begun."
A red flashing sign may as well be strung up over his head, screaming Danger! Danger! I can see it just as clearly as if it were actually there. Archie's death and, subsequently, Kida's are mere events in response to a game of chess that has already started. I look at Vincent and, for the first time in several days, I feel something rush to the surface. I feel a purpose. Even if I have to become a pawn myself—Vincent Diamond's pawn—I will. It will be vengeance meted out in the best of ways. But more than that, I have a feeling that what we will be doing will be crucial to the way the world will shift.
I nod to both Noaz and Vincent, assenting to their request, then turn and leave the study. I make my way through the hallways of Vincent and Penelope Diamond's penthouse, not quite sure where I'm heading until I find myself there.
It’s my room—or at least the room that has been designated for me. I haven’t been back for more than changing my clothes since the night after Kida’s funeral. I’m hesitant to enter, knowing that I’ll force myself to stay this time—force myself to endure more nightmares, because it seems that only when I’m wrapped up in someone else’s arms can I forget all the pain, destruction and loss.
I don’t even feel like I resemble myself anymore. Gone is the girl who climbed the outside of a building. Gone is the girl who risked it all to find Kida. Gone is the woman Kida had made me into. I don’t know that person anymore. I’m just… nothing now. I feel nothing. I am devoid of the sharpness and steel that Kida had managed to forge within me. I’m empty, hollow, and I let that sensation consume me as I tumble into the waiting bed, ready for unconsciousness to take me. Because it’s not sleeping. Sleep would be too kind. No. What I experience in my guilty nightmares is pure, undiluted torture.
Kida’s Goodbye
“Is it really that bad to see me again?” I open my eyes and realize that it has already started.
My heart aches at the mere sight of her. She doesn’t look how she last did. She’s neither drenched in blood nor pale and wan. No, this is my real Kida. The one that looks like the strong, independent, warrior that I fell in love with.
“It is,” I answer her honestly, “especially since I know when I wake up you won’t be there.”
Kida tilts her head to the side, scowling as she folds her arms across her chest. The fabric of her tight black top stretches over her healthy skin. She looks like she did before the Tanks, before the rest. “Who says I won’t be there?”
I sigh. “Kida,” I begin, “you’re dead.”
“Says who?”
“Says the universe.”
She scoffs. “You know you can’t trust that,” she replies with a wave of her hand.
I shake my head and take a step towards her. “I don’t want to fight,” I say, “I just want to be with you while I can.”
When I reach out to her, Kida frowns and takes a step back. A tiny fissure forms in the already damaged organ that is my heart. “Oh no,” she says in true Kida form, “we’re gonna talk about this.”
“Please, I just need to hold you,” I practically beg, moving closer still. Kida’s eyes flash—the golden-brown color, a melting pot of irritation—and her arms shoot out, hands grabbing onto me. She twists her upper body, keeping her legs planted and then I’m airborne, flying. I land with a jarring thump on the cold hard ground of my dream’s reality. The pain that ricochets up my spine feels so real.
Anger flashes through me and I’m back on my feet in an instant. “What the hell was that for?!” I snap.
Kida refolds her arms. “You need to wake the fuck up.” My mouth gapes as she glares at me. Her eyes, so slender and illuminating—long and thin in the paper clay color of her skin—are harsh as they meet mine. “You think I’m not there?” she snaps. “That I what? Just left you? You’re a fucking idiot, Cassie. I expected better from you.”
“Well, I’m sorry, then, that I’m such a raging disappointment to you.” Despite my ire, or maybe because of it, hot, scalding tears rush to the forefront of my eyes and fall down my cheeks. “I’m doing the best I can right now. I’m lost, don’t you see that?! You were it for me! We were a fucking team. We were partners! And now you’re gone. What am I supposed to do?”
Kida’s face doesn’t soften, but I see it—in her eyes—where my words have hit her. When she speaks, her tone is only slightly gentler, just enough that I know she hears me. “We were more than partners, Cassie.”
“I loved you.” The tears feel like liquid fire on my skin.
“You did,” she emphasizes, and I realize what I’ve said.
I shake my head. “No, I still love you.”
After a beat, Kida sighs. “I knew we were too close,” she says quietly. “I knew I should have pushed you more to make friends. A part of me, I think, wanted to monopolize you. I loved having you near. I loved being with you. I loved… you.”
My breath catches as she unfolds her arms and moves closer to me. Her hand reaches out. Soft like a whisper on the breeze, Kida brushes away stray tears. When I cry, it’s not pretty. I know my face is blotchy. My eyes burn. The tears have made their paths over my cheeks, dripping from my jaw to my neck and my shirt. Kida doesn’t care. She cups my cheeks in her hands and I find my fingers gripping her arms as more tears spring forth.
“It’s not healthy for you, Cassie. You have to let go.” I start to shake my head, but she stops me with her firm hands. “No, you listen to me,” she demands, “I will always be with you. You’re not alone, never that, my sweet girl.” I hiccup even as I try to hold my breath and keep it in. “You’re so strong and brave, Cassie. I know it hurts to be weak in these moments.”
“I was only strong because of you,” I argue.
“That’s not true.” Kida’s hands drop to my shoulders and she shakes me. “You have absolutely no idea, do you?” she asks. “I fell in love with you because of your strength. That fire in you has always been there. You could have ended up taking a thousand different paths in your life. But you took the one that led to me. No one made you fight. In fact, so many tried to make it impossible.”
I step back, breaking her hold. “No,” I say. Despite my pain, a small smile touches my lips as I look at her in all of her righteous and incensed glory—so like my Kida. All bite and morality. Who knew someone so strong could be mortal? “You’re trying to make my choices into something grandiose and they weren’t. I was just a kid trying to survive until you found me. Don’t make me into anything special, because I wasn’t. I’m still not.”
“You think not?” Kida’s lips pull into a thin line. “You’re wrong, Cassie, but I won’t have to prove it to you. They will.”
I don’t have to ask who she’s talking about; I know she means the guys. I almost flinch, and my smile drops away just as one appears on her
face. “Let them help you, sweet girl,” she orders. Always with the orders.
“I love you, Kida, that’s all there is to it. Without you, nothing can help me.”
She rolls her delicate looking, but impenetrable eyes. “Oh, stop with the angsty bullshit already.”
I laugh. I can't help it. Even in death, she's still a bitch.
Her mouth opens again, likely preparing to hurl another insult when the world around us quakes. The seemingly endless ground and sky of smoke and white clouds shifts, and the clouds turn dark gray. Kida's eyes grow worried, and instead of insulting me as I'm sure she was about to, she reaches out instead.
"Don't–" she tries to warn me, but before she can make out another syllable, I'm launched backward as if someone has sucker punched me in the chest. Gasping from the frissons of pain that splinter through my body, I land somewhere in a cavern. The very moment I hear the familiar timbre of my brother's voice, taunting me from the shadows, I know the true torture is about to begin.
"Cass! Cassie! Dammit. Come on, Angel face, open those gorgeous eyes for us." Is that... Haze? My whole body feels like it's been hit by a flying zipcar. There are aches on top of aches. But when I do finally manage to open my eyes and look down, there isn't a bruise in sight. What is in sight are Penny and Haze, both looking down at me in my bed with equally concerned expressions.
"What is it?" My voice, when it escapes, comes out on a rasp. My throat feels raw.
"You were screaming in your sleep," Penny informs me.
I want to feel embarrassed. I know I probably should be, or I would be if I could feel much of anything at all. Somehow, though, there's this blanket of apathy surrounding me. I can feel my emotions just on the other side of the curtain. I can't seem to find my way around it, though. Perhaps I'm just not trying hard enough, but instead of trying harder, I just stop. Why even bother? I think.
"Cass?" Haze's voice jars me out of my internal thoughts.
