by Theresa Kay
I shrug. “I have no idea.” I whistle, and Tiercel cocks his head to the side. “He’s always been a little odd. Maybe… I don’t know.”
Dad’s hand is still up, and he’s shaking his head. “I might.” His eyes meet mine, and he shoots me a half smile. “I need to have a brief chat with Karo, but I think I know how you all can get solid information regarding Jastren’s whereabouts.”
AS LIR AND I ENTER the corner office, Rym shoots me a concerned look and Trel tilts her head to the side inquisitively. Hell, even Vitrad is looking a little worried about me.
Heat rushes into my cheeks. “I… needed a minute?” I shrug.
Lir’s hand rubs circles on my lower back.
I clear my throat and turn to Gavin, who’s leaning against the wall. “My dad seems to have had some sort of breakthrough he’d like to discuss with everyone as soon as possible.”
Gavin jerks his chin up in acknowledgment. He straightens and tips an imaginary hat to Trel with an impish grin. “See you later.”
She smiles. It’s tiny, but it’s there. Still, all she does is nod.
Rym hops to his feet. “Don’t go falling for the first guy who’s good with babies now, sis,” he says, his voice laced with mock concern.
Her lips flatten, and she stares down at Kalla. “He is not simply ‘good with babies’ as you say. He saved her life. I believe he is entitled to a little gratitude.”
Saved her life? What exactly went on in here while I was napping?
“That looked like a lot more than gratitude. Are you denying you have a thing for him?” asks Rym in a teasing tone.
Trel’s face goes cold, and so does her voice. “I would never… not a human. Ever.” Her eyes flash, and she shoots him a hard look.
“Sorry I asked.” He rolls his eyes, throws up his hands, and walks out.
Trel studiously avoids all eye contact and focuses all her attention on the baby. “Jax, would you please send the blond human back in to attend me in case I need anything while my father is gone?”
“Sure…” I exchange a glance with Lir, who shrugs. “We’ll send Bree back in a minute.”
Trel gives me a tight-lipped nod.
Vitrad follows Lir and I out of the office. Rym falls in with us as we walk across to the opposite side of the factory, where Dad, Karo, and Matt are waiting. I motion for Bree to go in with Trel. Stu ambles over, and a couple of minutes later we’re joined by Gavin and his men.
Vitrad clears his throat. “Before you begin, Dr. Mitchell, I have something I would like to say.”
Dad nods for him to continue.
“An alliance of the sort we had hoped is clearly not possible at this point, so I wish to return to the city. It is safer there for my new grandchild. Although your… wife’s kitu can protect Kalla right now, I do not want to depend fully on that. So I would like to get my granddaughter within the city as soon as possible. I was able to contact Brin, and he assured me the city is now secure. As it appears we truly are all in this together, I would like to extend an offer of hospitality to those here. Our resources and our weapons will be at your disposal for the fight against Jastren.”
Wow. That’s quite an offer coming from him.
“That is very generous of you,” says Dad. “But I think everyone should hear what I have to say before we make any decisions. To start with, what would you say if I told you Jastren took the child because Ethan can counteract the shikiza that’s ripping Jastren’s mind apart?”
“I would say that it is not possible,” says Vitrad.
“Why not?”
“Because the Binell line ended before the Exodus. The liteka enhancement is as good as extinct.”
Dad turns to me. “Jax, how do you know about Ethan’s enhancement?”
My brow furrows; I don’t know where he’s going with any of this. I recognize the enhancement Vitrad referenced because Lir briefly mentioned it when he and I first discussed the shikiza. “Because he used it on me when I lost control.”
Vitrad jerks backward. “Not possible. The liteka enhancement is not carried in any line that came to Earth. Besides, the child’s colors are not—”
“His colors don’t matter. And that’s not what he called his enhancement.” I pull at the memories of one of my first conversations with Ethan. “He called it ‘drawing.’ But there was an E’rikon word for it too… something like ku-vee-tan or kaa-vaa-too.” The rest of that conversation filters back into my head, and my eyes widen. “And his mother had a different name for the shikiza, too. He knew it as ‘pushing,’ and he mentioned something else he called ‘dream maker’…”
“Mindata,” Kai says under his breath.
“Exactly,” says my dad, gesturing at Kai. “But we’ll get to that later. I think I’ve figured out how you’re both right… in a way.”
He steps forward and sweeps an arm out to encompass the E’rikon. “The E’rikon here on Earth, for the most part, represent only one E’rikon… country. They’re kind of like the Americans of Rikonos, self-destructive habits and all. But Rikonos was more than just one city, one people, one government. And others escaped to Earth, ones outside of the one—I’m not quite sure what the best translation here is—maybe ‘clan’? Lyn and I met a few of them five or six years after the Collapse.”
Vitrad sputters. “Impossible. The other… clans were—”
“Not as helpless as the Council thought,” says Dad. “While you all hemmed and hawed and debated for however long, small groups were already headed here. It was your clan who created the kitus and your clan who destroyed Rikonos. The others weren’t planning on waiting around for you all to come to an agreement.”
“But the outside clans no longer had enhancements,” says Vitrad. “There is no possible way—”
My dad holds up a hand. “There is a way. Simply put, your predecessors could not possibly have stripped the enhancements from every single E’rikon they deemed inferior.” He pauses, as if debating. “In fact, without blood tests, I couldn’t even tell you for sure that Ethan’s not full-blooded, as opposed to a human hybrid.”
“A full-blooded E’rikon child could not survive outside the barrier without a kitu.”
My dad shrugs. “They could if their bodies adapted naturally rather than being dependent on the ‘designer’ gene sequences the Revas created. You can’t pick and choose what genes to allow without eventually crippling what nature designed—like what happened with your telepathy becoming dependent on the kitus. Who knows what other adaptations could have been made if you all weren’t completely dependent on those cuffs?”
Rym breaks in. “Wait a minute. I thought the kid came from one of those human Breeder colonies, that his mom was one of the ones who left when we arrived and was captured.”
“There aren’t all that many Breeder camps,” says Stu. “And they wouldn’t… not an E’rikon. Anyway, we found Ethan in a town that had been destroyed by an E’rikon ship. Someone must have known they were out there.”
Rym and Lir share a glance—then both look at Vitrad with widening eyes.
“You knew,” says Lir softly. “You knew… and you blew them up!” He advances on Vitrad, jamming a finger into his uncle’s chest. I can feel the fury radiating from him, the desperate anger at his uncle destroying what—now that I think about it—could have potentially helped Stella and the rest of the E’rikon children without kitus. “What possible reason could you have to justify killing our own people simply because they had the audacity to survive?”
But Vitrad only looks confused and affronted. “I have no idea what you are speaking of.”
Lir snorts under his breath.
Vitrad holds his hands up by his chest. “I admit my actions toward you were…” He pauses, pinching his lips together. “I thought… It does not matter what I thought. It was wrong. I admit that. But killing these other E’rikon? I do not know—”
“Liar! You ordered that attack and more,” Rym yells. It’s a harsh, near-guttural tone I’ve ne
ver heard from him. He closes his eyes and releases a loud exhale from his nose before also advancing toward his father and stopping shoulder to shoulder with Lir. His voice is flat, cold, and quiet. “What purpose does it serve to continue with your lies now? How long will it be before you grow tired of the games and the machinations on which you seem to thrive? When I am dead? When we all are dead? When our actions effectively destroy this planet like they did Rikonos? When? When will it be enough for you?”
Indignation and bewilderment battle it out on Vitrad’s features. “I ordered no attacks. Who…?”
Some of the fire leaves Rym’s posture, and he studies his father with narrowed eyes. “You ordered the attack that almost killed Lir, you’ve as much as admitted to it. And afterward, you ordered multiple attacks on various settlements in order to kill any hybrids—or, as we find out now, any E’rikon living outside the city.”
“You think I would murder children? Families? What kind of monster…” Vitrad’s words peter out as he glances back and forth between Lir and Rym. His whole demeanor deflates, and he staggers backward and rests a hand on the wall behind him. “I suppose you are justified in your thinking.”
He straightens. “But I never intended for anything to happen to Lir in the attack on the research facility. I did not defend myself against the accusation because…”—his eyes slide to me—“… because I did intend for Jax and her brother to die in the research facility. Along with their grandfather.”
I inhale sharply.
Vitrad rubs his forehead. “You have to understand… I had recently figured out Jastren had been manipulating me, that he had somehow reinstated his enhancement and it was—is—exponentially stronger than his original one, making him dangerous and unstable. As far as I know, he did not do anything more than ‘push’ me in one direction or another rather than outright forcing me to do things, but I have no idea how long it was going on and I cannot determine exactly which of my decisions were not fully my own.
“He told me enough about the ‘hybrid children’ we had conveniently stumbled across for me to know he thought of them as some type of weapon. And I also knew he needed them for something, though I was not sure of the details. When I could not determine exactly what Jax and her brother were to Jastren, I decided they needed to be destroyed along with him. My plan was to blow up the research facility with them inside and blame it on the humans. I will admit my prejudices against Jace, and humans in general, colored my behavior and my conclusions, but I assure you, I thought I was doing what was best for the E’rikon.”
He turns sad eyes to Lir. “I knew it would look suspicious if I suddenly had Lir released after that disastrous Council meeting. And I knew my son would not take direction from me. So I spoke with my sister, asked her to contact Rym and have him get you out of there. Soft-hearted as she is—was… your mother sent him after Jax as well. I think you know the rest of it from there…”
“But why…” Lir whispers.
“Why treat you as I did afterward? That truly was something of a parting gift from Jastren. He twisted things inside my head just enough to make me believe it was you who released Jastren’s ‘weapons,’ therefore putting Trel in imminent danger. He is a master at playing people’s greatest fears against them—and any threat to Trel’s safety is mine. So much so that I believe his presence nearby earlier was enough to trigger some of those long-planted manipulations of his, making me that fearful mess I was when Trel went into labor.”
His mouth twists into a grim smile. “After all I did… I cannot explain how or why the realization I had gone too far came about, but it did. That is why I never tried to take you back when Rym rescued you… and before that, why I did not interfere when Vi’Zirekai went to Rym to tell him all I had done.”
“As… illuminating as all this is, can we please get back to the point?” Rym says, his arms crossed over his chest and a conflicted look on his face.
Vitrad nods. “The point is, the attacks on the settlements outside the city were not ordered by me. Who told you they were?”
“Brin,” says Rym, as if that explains everything.
“Brin?” I say. “One of the few Council members to survive Jastren’s attack? The one we pretty much left in charge of the city? The one who just told you how ‘safe and secure’ the city was? That guy?”
“Yes,” say Rym and Vitrad at the same time.
“Of course. Because we definitely needed another person we can’t trust,” I say, throwing my hands up. I drag a hand over my face. “He lied about the attacks, which means he’s probably the one who ordered them. He’s probably lying about the safety of the city, and for all we know he’s working with Jastren.”
Rym shakes his head. “But it was only by chance that he survived Jastren’s attack on the Council, so it couldn’t be a long-standing partnership.” His brow furrows. “But given all we know about him, he could have been ‘recruited to the cause’ at some point afterward.”
“That’s what I thought.” I sigh. “Gavin, any ideas how we can determine if the city is safe?”
Gavin rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “Not without someone on the inside.”
“You don’t need someone on the inside,” says Dad. “Jax can provide you with the needed reconnaissance.”
“Reconnaissance?” Gavin and I ask at the same time. In the woods, sure, but in the city? I’m not exactly known for my stealth in populated areas, and I know close to nothing about the layout of the city.
Dad smiles and lifts a finger into the air. “Ethan had it wrong when he said ‘dream maker.’ What he should have called that particular enhancement is—and this is a very poor translation—‘dream walker.’ Or mindata to the E’rikon. In a way, it’s like the other side of the pulling enhancement, the shuvata. Instead of you bringing others to your head, you can go to the minds of others. Like your hawk out there.”
His expression turns wistful. “Your mother had the same enhancement, and she also had a special affinity for birds—raptors in particular.” He pulls on the chain of my necklace until the silver bird hanging from it is visible. “I made that for her because she liked birds so much.”
“What does all that mean?” I ask. I’ve always felt… connected to Tiercel in a way, but it never felt like I was using an ability or anything like that. It just was.
Dad shrugs and drops the necklace. “I’m not sure, but I’m fairly certain you have abilities you haven’t tapped into yet, and I think the hawk is part of one. Theoretically, if you can link to the hawk, you can see what he sees.” He shoots me a small smile. “Aerial reconnaissance.”
AS SOON AS WE FIGURED out the basics, like who was going, we set out for the city. Vitrad insisted Trel stay behind until we knew more, and he ordered Miri to stay with her. Apparently he felt Gavin’s men who were staying behind weren’t enough protection.
We’ve been on the road for a couple hours now. The only ship we had was still on the base, and we still don’t know what the situation there is, so we’re relying on two old trucks Gavin had stored near the factory’s loading dock. By Gavin’s best estimate, we have at least another ten hours to the city—and that’s if the roads we take are all clear and drivable. The fact that this trip is taking place almost entirely at night adds more uncertainty, but we don’t have time to wait until morning.
I don’t have high hopes for the so-called “safety” of the city. None of us do, but it’s the next logical place to go, because if Brin is telling the truth, we’ll have access to ships and weapons and who knows what else that might help us against Jastren.
There’s a lot depending on my little trick with Tiercel, the one my dad is convinced is possible. I’m not so sure. I suppose our plan doesn’t entirely hinge on the information I gain with Tiercel, but it’d certainly be helpful to know the status of the city before going in. For now, I’ve just told Tiercel to follow us. I only hope he understood—and can keep up.
There are twelve of us total, six to a truck, and I’m
in the back seat of the one Gavin’s driving, squished between Lir and Stu. I suppose it could be worse—we could be stuck in one of those “two-seater” ships like the one Rym used to pick me up from Peter’s. That feels like a lifetime ago.
For some… it was.
Flint.
Jace.
Peter.
Emily.
I turn to Stu. “We didn’t have a lot of time to talk earlier, and I didn’t have a chance to tell you how sorry I am about Emily. She was… one of my first real friends, and I know you and she…” I shrug.
He gives me a pained smile. “Emily and I were… a possibility. We didn’t get a chance to be much more than that to each other, but we would’ve been.” He drags a hand over his face. “It hurts, but I can’t even think about it right now. Not with Ethan out there.”
“We’ll get him back,” I say.
The corner of his mouth twitches, and he turns to the window. “Or die trying,” he whispers under his breath.
I swallow, trying to shove back the lump in my throat, and curl closer to Lir. My eyes close and my fingers dig into his shirt as if I can hold on to him tightly enough right now to keep him safe through what’s to come. In the past twenty-four hours I’ve lost three people, and I’m fully aware that more will probably die. But I don’t know how much more loss I can take—and his would be the loss that breaks me.
For now, for this last bit of… not peace exactly, but definitely calm… I will stay as close to Lir as possible, drowning myself in our connection, in his touch and his smell and everything that makes him him… just in case these are the last memories with him I have a chance to make.
I let myself wallow in selfishness for a moment, telling myself we don’t have to do this, that this isn’t our responsibility, that we could just… leave. It’s tempting, but I’m not the same girl who said to hell with anyone else and jaunted off to rescue her brother. I’m not the same girl who thought it could be just me and Jace forever, that I’d never have to let other people in—and liked it that way.
