They both turned to Emily.
“Don’t look at me that way! I deal with cartels out of necessity, not preference,” Emily said, laughing. “I’m as much a revolutionary as you are. I haven’t forgotten the plan we made, Vivik, and I still intend to make the Far Shores a sanctuary for refugees from the cartels.”
“I think that it’s a good idea, too,” Eerie said. “Shall we vote? All in favor?”
All three raised their hands.
“Then it’s settled. We’ll be the good guys,” Emily said. “Personally, I always thought that we were, but I don’t mind making it official.”
“That’s a big mandate,” Vivik said. “Where do we start?”
“At the Academy,” Eerie answered promptly. “We don’t want what happened to us to happen to anyone else, do we? It has to start with the kids.”
“Works for me,” Emily said. “Assuming they’ll let me in. I think they’ve decided I’m a bad influence.”
“They will let you in,” Eerie said. “I’ll make them.”
“I believe you,” Emily said. “Anything else?”
Eerie thought it over.
“I would like to go to an amusement park,” she said. “Also, the beach. The real beach, with waves and an ocean with water and stuff. Maybe Venice? Venice looks cool. Alex thinks he visited there, once. He never did, actually, but he likes to think that.”
“I would go to the beach,” Vivik said quickly. “No problem.”
“You just want to see us in our swimsuits,” Emily said, grinning at Vivik. “So, we are saving the world, starting with the Academy, going on rollercoasters, and taking a trip to the beach. How exciting!”
“There’s one more thing,” Eerie said. “There is something Alex wanted us to do.”
“Really?” Vivik looked curious. “What’s that?”
“He wants us to change the club name. He says it’s embarrassing for him.”
“I can understand that,” Vivik said. “It is a little…”
“I think it’s sweet,” Emily said, “but I can see why he would want that.”
“Right,” Eerie said. “Shall we vote? All in favor?”
No one raised their hands.
“As club president, I have veto,” Eerie said. “I’m also vetoing the name change. Just to be sure.”
“The Rescue Alex from the Outer Dark Club it remains, then,” Emily said, linking arms with them. “Shall we go to the party?”
***
“Our tenure in Central hasn’t been long enough to create a lot of traditions, but this one goes back to the days of the Founder – after we weather a crisis, we take time to bury our dead and to mourn them. Once that is done, we take some time for ourselves, to celebrate all the things that our friends gave their lives to protect. We have a party, in other words.”
Michael glanced at the assembled crowd. The setting of the ruined library and the dim lighting had him thinking about A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and fairies.
“We have funerals because we need to say goodbye. We have parties because we want the world to be a better place, if only for a little while.”
He could hear the tinkle of glasses and the collective noise of the crowd moving and breathing and drinking, and beyond that the woodland sounds at the edge of the Academy campus, but there was not a whisper or a laugh, and that made him more nervous than any true silence could have.
“We’ve done this too many times,” Michael said. “The responsibility for this speech has shifted, for bad reasons and for worse, and we’ve lost far too many friends. We have struggled, right here at this very spot, and we have suffered. It would be wrong, however, to think that we have nothing to show for all of it.”
“We survived, after all. Despite everything, we survived.”
“Central remains because Central is not a place, it is a community,” Michael said, meeting as many eyes as was possible. “Our community may be contentious, but it has persevered through difficult times, outside threats, and betrayals. Do you know why? I think it is because we have decided, collectively and individually, that there is something of value to all of this, even if the reality sometimes falls short of our expectations. We have chosen Central, all of us, those who have fallen and those who remain.”
“We have a peace that has been hard earned.”
Michael sought out two specific people in the crowd – first, Henry North, then Anastasia Martynova.
The Chief Administrator affected an air of amused indulgence, having chosen not to give the speech himself, while the Mistress of the Black Sun watched with an expression of boredom that bordered on contempt.
“This is an opportunity we must seize as a community, to honor the sacrifices that have been made,” Michael continued, glaring at each of them in turn. “We must decide that this peace is worth defending, as the Auditors and the Operators and the students and the civilians who were lost in this conflict decided. We must decide that those who would be enemies of this peace are the enemies of us all.”
He paused here for dramatic effect, but neither member of his intended audience would give him the satisfaction of reaction.
“A celebration is a temporary respite,” Michael said. “As you enjoy yourself this evening, I invite you to consider – why must it be temporary? Why can we not always be as we are tonight?”
The crowd hesitated, eager to applaud and move on, unsure if he was finished.
“Thank you for joining us,” Michael said, to instant applause. “Have a wonderful evening.”
He attempted to hurry to the bar, but Rebecca met him halfway with a beer in either hand.
“God bless you,” he said, taking the glass from her left hand. “You read my mind.”
“That was my other beer, actually,” Rebecca said. “But sure, fine, have at it.”
“Did that speech go as badly as it felt like it did?”
“They always feel worse than they are,” Rebecca said. “You were brief, which is all anyone wants out of a speech before a party.”
A DJ started up nearby, the electronic beat forcing the crowd to raise their voices. As the crowd made its way through the lines at the bar, the first dancers filtered toward the pavilion that housed the temporary dancefloor.
“You were kinda preachy, though,” Rebecca added. “Some people will not have enjoyed that.”
“Only some people?” Michael grinned. “I can handle that. Where’s Mitsuru?”
“She disappeared two minutes after we showed up. Guess she ditched me.”
“She never did like crowds.”
“My beer is empty,” Rebecca said, holding a half-full glass.
“No, it’s not.”
“It will be,” Rebecca said, pushing toward the bar. “Be right back.”
Michael glanced at the triple line, each queue a score deep, and concluded that she would not be back anytime soon.
No one seemed eager to talk to the new Director of the Academy on the night of a party, so he found a spot in a dark corner of the pavilion and sipped his beer as he surveyed the crowd.
Nearly everyone who had survived and remained in Central was in attendance.
The Hegemony had turned out in force, most congregating around Lord North and his family, but more than a few bunching together in an independent grouping centered around Serafina Ricci and Darby Weathers, both of whom had recently become the sole members of their respective families.
Michael thought that he could feel the tension between the two groups, even from across the party, but that could have just been him.
He worried a great deal about the issue, and how he might protect his students from it, if that frosty relationship turned hot.
The Black Sun was not as well represented, given their limited numbers in Central, but once Anastasia Martynova had RSVP’d, most of the cartel hierarchy had turned out. Lady Gao and Shijun Jiang stood at the edge of the party, waited on by servants who toted champagne bottles and trays of hors d’oeuvres.
Renton Hall danced with one nervous girl after another, charming them all, while Daniel Gao was the object of even greater attention. Anastasia greeted guests with chilly civility nearby, her staff practically walling her off from the party.
No one was brave enough to ask her to dance.
In the spirit of reconciliation, Michael had given clearance for the rebellious crew at the Far Shores to attend, despite the unsettled issue of their occupancy. Emily Muir had arrived with Vivik and Eerie and had immediately gone to exchange an icy greeting with Anastasia. She then worked her way through North’s camp – demurely acknowledging her presumed future fiancé, Kevin Morales-North – and was now sharing a drink with Serafina Ricci and giggling about something.
Emily’s recent popularity was something else to worry about.
Given the importance of the occasion, Michael had allowed the Academy students to attend, even the younger ones. They were grouped and under the supervision of the Academy staff, much to the staff’s dismay. Most of the students were hovering nervously near the dancefloor, in pairs and small groups, but a few were attempting to bluff their way to the bar.
“Let it slide,” Rebecca advised, joining him with two fresh beers. “If they get away with it, they’ll learn a valuable lesson about…something. Hangovers? I don’t know.”
Michael laughed.
“Have you talked to Anastasia lately? I haven’t seen her back in Central in a while,” he said. “Since the thing here, actually.”
“I paid her a visit, not too long after. It didn’t seem to go very well,” Rebecca said, grudgingly giving up one of the glasses. “She’s super creepy lately.”
“Hasn’t she always been a little…?”
“A little, yes, but not like this,” Rebecca said. “Something is very wrong with that girl.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know yet,” Rebecca said, wiping foam from her mouth. “I’ll find out, though. Promise.”
“What about the North family?” Michael glanced over at him as he spoke. “Kevin and Sofia look pissed. I wonder what that’s about?”
Rebecca pointed at the dancefloor.
Nathan Drava was dancing with Madison Morales-Thule in the middle of the dancefloor, swaying beneath the twinkling bulbs that lined the inside of the pavilion. They were pressed together, slow dancing though the music was fast paced, ignoring the other dancers as they twirled and giggled.
Kevin’s face was flushed with rage, and his mother, who looked no happier, had to stop him from marching onto the dancefloor. Henry watched with a small grin as he puffed at a cigar.
“I think that’s the problem,” Rebecca said. “Madison has gone a little wild lately, don’t you think?”
“I guess Nathan has something to do with it.”
“Him and teenage hormones.”
“Kids are like that,” Michael said. “One day they are your innocent students, cute and idealistic and curious, and the next…”
“Puberty,” Rebecca said sourly. “They start fucking everybody.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite like that.”
“You aren’t an empath,” Rebecca said, finishing one of her glasses. “You have no idea how gross it gets.”
“I suppose not,” Michael said. “This doesn’t feel much like a party, does it?”
“That’s because Alice isn’t here,” Rebecca said. “We aren’t complete people, you and I, are we? Not without her. She was impossible, and she made everything work.”
“Yeah,” Michael said. “I can’t get over her. I keep trying to move on, and I just…”
“I know. I can’t either.”
“Alice could have, though,” Michael said. “She would have just forgotten it.”
“Yeah. Sometimes that made me jealous.”
“She made me jealous all the time. Brought out the best and the worst in me. We drove each other nuts,” Michael said. “I even miss that, now.”
Rebecca didn’t say anything.
They watched as the general migration to the dancefloor continued, the crowd swelling as alcohol and youthful exuberance slowly overcame nervous embarrassment.
He caught sight of Eerie’s blue hair before she was halfway across the pavilion.
“Have you been to check on Alex yet?” Michael lowered his voice so the approaching Changeling would not hear. “I worry about the kids, alone out there.”
“Not yet,” Rebecca said. “Soon.”
Michael watched the students dance and tried not to let his mind turn back to worry, at least for the evening.
His success was mixed.
“It’s you and me against the world again, isn’t it, Becca?”
“It always was,” Rebecca said solemnly, polishing off her beer.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Eerie said. “But I wanted to say goodbye.”
“You’re leaving already?” Rebecca hugged her. “Are you sure you don’t want to dance?”
“No, thank you,” Eerie said. “I don’t really want to dance alone.”
***
Mitsuru coughed politely as she stepped out of a dark alcove on the edge of campus, to avoid startling Eerie, and then fell in beside her.
They did not say anything on the way to the Administrative building. It wasn’t until they were in view of that massive rectangle of old stone and recent concrete that Mitsuru finally spoke.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes,” Eerie said. “He is.”
“Will he wake up soon?”
“No,” Eerie said, wiping her eyes. “Not soon.”
“I see.” Mitsuru paused in the dark, just beyond the reach of the building’s lights, and Eerie felt that she should, as well. “That’s too bad.”
“Yes.”
“He matters to me.”
“I know.”
“I want it to work out.”
“Me too.”
“When I think about it, I might still owe you,” Mitsuru said, looking up at the starless night sky. “You said you would change things. That was what you did, right?”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Eerie said. “I don’t like to see people trapped.”
“You said something about chances,” Mitsuru said. “About making space for new possibilities. Those possibilities weren’t just for you, were they? You opened doors for a few other people.”
Eerie looked away.
“That’s what I think,” Mitsuru said, stepping from the lighted path to the Administrative building and back into the dark. “Remember that, if you ever need my help.”
Eerie watched her leave, and then continued to stare out into the night, until she could no longer hear Mitsuru’s sandals on the pavement, until the only noise was the crickets and the wind in the leaves.
The apport station was crowded with people leaving the party, all headed to different destinations, so she was late getting home. Most of the lights were out across the Far Shores, and she hurried across the deserted campus, back to the townhouse.
Eerie pulled off her shoes and sweatshirt, and then tossed her basket on the table. She climbed the stairs and hurried to the bedroom. She hesitated at the door, then turned off the lights and threw herself on the bed, curling up against Alex and pulling his arms around her.
She closed her eyes and listened to his steady breathing and the subdued beat of his heart.
The night deepened, and the Far Shores quieted about them, but Eerie could not sleep.
She sighed and then went downstairs, fumbling in the dark for the hoodie she had stolen from Alex’s closet. She found it and took a lollipop from the pocket, and then went back to the bedroom.
She crawled back into bed and unwrapped the lollipop. She put it in her mouth and swirled it around until the candy was wet and sticky. Then, feeling selfish and a little naughty, she turned to Alex, gently prized his mouth open, and carefully inserted the lollipop.
Eerie waited, watching closely to make sure he did not choke.
He rolled
to his back, coughed, and then cleared his throat.
She hurried to pull the candy from his mouth.
Alex touched her hand and smiled at her blearily.
“You changed your hair,” he whispered. “I like it.”
She dove into his arms and rested her head against his chest.
“Is everything okay?” He wiped his eyes and glanced around the room, not really appearing to register his surroundings. “Is it time for me to get up?”
“No,” she said, embracing him. “It’s not yet, but I was lonely.”
“You know doing this only makes it worse.”
She snuggled as close to him as was possible.
“I know.”
“You’re just making it harder on yourself,” Alex said, yawning. “How much longer do I have to sleep, anyway?”
“Not long,” Eerie said, pressing her face against his chest so that he could not see her cry. “It’ll be over soon, I just…I couldn’t wait. I had to talk to you. I miss you so much.”
“I understand,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’d say that it’s the same for me, but you’re always there, somehow, when I’m dreaming. Even this sort of feels…you know. How long do we have before I…?”
“Just a minute,” Eerie said, kissing him tenderly. “Will you hold me, please?”
He wrapped his arms tight around her and held her, until his arms went slack and he began to snore. The first rays of the sun clawed through the featureless grey sky over the Far Shores, where there are no birds to announce the dawn, and no waves crash on the beach. She cried just briefly, in that final hour of the night which is also the first of the morning, and then, lulled by her lover’s steady breathing and the stillness beyond, Eerie finally fell asleep.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Zachary Rawlins lives with his lovely and amazing wife, Chloe, and their genius Corgi, Ein, in a 90-year-old Tudor in Oakland, California. During the day, he works in the environmental industry. In his free time, he enjoys gardening, organizing his books by genre and his comics by publisher, and writing books like this one.
The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5) Page 95
