A Matter of Forever (Fate #4)

by Heather Lyons

  But ... “But we’re talking. People aren’t sentient in memories.”

  “I said we would walk my memories,” he clarifies. “I never said you’d live them.”

  “What is it you want to tell us?” Jonah asks.

  Bios’ smile flees. “I have tried my best to tell you what the Dingir’s situation is like nowadays. The truth is, so much of my family is so grateful to be out of purgatory they are going along with Enlilkian’s plans, no questions asked. The few who have dared to voice their concerns have been consumed.” He tents his fingers in front of him. “I can see the wisdom of his logic, of using the Creator here to rebuild our corporeal selves. He is unable to do it himself, bound by Rudshivar’s lingering curse. This one,”—he points at me—“however, has no curses holding her back. It’s part of why Enlilkian wants her so much. Let us just say that Cailleache was not thrilled with the prospect of her becoming the savior of our kind. Probably less so when you were obliterating her.”

  “This is ridiculous. He thinks I’m going to help him, what? Make you all whole? Have a bunch of babies with him?”

  “I do not know his exact plans, little Creator. He could impregnate you, yes, but he could just as easily rip your essence out of you. Then he could be the mother and father of our kind all at once.”

  “I will kill him.” My words are hot and loud in the serene tree house we sit in.

  “Whether or not that is the case,” Bios says, “your acquiescence is what Enlilkian wishes and, until the war between father and son, what he wished for was reality. Now, he is bound and not in possession of his full arsenal of power, often needing to be recharged before he enacts his will. ”

  “Recharged?” I ask, even though I fear I know the answer.

  “The attacks over the years have nourished us,” Bios says bluntly. “In others’ deaths, we find survival and strength. Magic always has a price, even with your evolved kind.”

  I’m instantly sent back a year and a half before, to the cave Kellan and I were trapped in, and how an overuse of his powers left him weak and in a coma.

  I grip Jonah’s hand. “Doesn’t it bother you to kill people?”

  Bios shrugs. “It is the way things are. But, I am not here to discuss morality. I want you to realize that when we get above ground, and,” he looks at Jonah, “yes, Empath, we must emerge sooner rather than later before Enlilkian’s fury is taken out on innocents, but I need to you realize that when the orders change, I will be forced to withdraw my protection and very well may be tasked with either abduction or death.”

  I go still. I mean, I knew Bios wasn’t an entirely good guy, but ...

  And then, his eyes turn impossibly sad. “I will not have a choice,” he says. “Resisting compulsion is futile. But I do offer you this consideration once the order is given. Obliterate me before I can carry through like a good soldier.”

  Did I just hear that right? “Excuse me?”

  “Chloe,” he says, using my name, not my craft, for the first time in the weeks I’ve known him, “I am tired. I have been ordered to do many things over the years, some I agree with, many I don’t. I would ask you to do me this small favor.”

  “Having Chloe kill you is a favor?” Jonah asks skeptically.

  “To kill me, no—that would be no favor. Enlilkian would simply reanimate me. I would be even more of a puppet to him. Obliterate me, as you did with Cailleache and Nuun and the others. Even Enlilkian cannot reanimate that which no longer exists at molecular form.”

  So many thoughts swirl through my mind, and yet, all I can ask is, “Why?”

  “I am a weapon to him, and little else.” Bios stares out of the window. “The things that I covet, the people who worshipped me ... they are gone. No Magic, not even yours, could bring what I crave back. I do not wish something new. Perhaps Rudshivar had the right idea.” He fixes his swirling eyes on Jonah, who, after a moment, nods. Just once. Small and tight.

  “Do you mean Rudshivar and his revolution?” I prod.

  Bios smiles, just a little. “There are others like me, who wish for the same thing. Know that they cannot tell you about it, unless you walk in their memories. You would do many a great favor if you simply did to them as you did our mother. I know of your tendency to show mercy, Chloe. You hesitated when I first appeared in your hiding space when you should have obliterated me quickly as Jonah here wished you to do. It’s what I would have done—any of the Dingir would have done. But what you think of as mercy is ultimately another form of torture.”

  I don’t understand.

  “There are family members once more trapped in darkness, crying out for salvation,” he says gently. “I would ask of you to obliterate them as well, if you are victorious against Enlilkian.”

  Jonah says, “You’re talking about the Elders we have trapped under the streets of Annar.”

  Bios nods, slinging a leg over the side of his chair.

  “Are you really asking me to destroy your siblings,” I ask slowly. “Your children?”

  “Are you not ready to do this anyway?”

  Enlilkian, oh yes. I am ready to take that asshole out, no questions asked. But, if Bios is telling the truth about the rest ...

  “I did not bring you here to encourage you to try to save those who will, if ordered, strike at you in every way possible,” he says, like he’s digging in my thoughts. “I am selfish, Chloe. So are my siblings. We who secretly go against the grain want to use you, as well.”

  I don’t even know what to say.

  “I would ask this favor of you. Please consider it. And now, because your brother is ready to destroy me since I have taken five seconds longer than promised,” he says to Jonah, “we must return. There is no more time for uncensored talk.”

  “Breathe, godsdammit, breathe!” comes a voice from above. Kellan’s fingers are fumbling against my neck, checking for a pulse. Air rushes into my lungs and I gasp loudly, my eyes flying open.

  “Sjharn!” Zthane is shouting. “Karl! For gods’ sakes! Somebody get their ass in here and help us!”

  “No need,” Jonah wheezes nearby. And then, “Get off me, Zthane. I think you just cracked a rib.”

  “Thank gods,” Kellan says, leaning his forehead down against mine. “I thought ...”

  “I’m fine,” I say, even though exhaustion clings to my bones. “Remember? He said we’d look lifeless?”

  Kellan pulls away, rocking back on his heels. “Look. He said look. He conveniently left out how you’d actually stop breathing and your heart would stop, too.”

  To this, Bios says nothing. He’s wide awake, sitting in the chair we left him in, once more wearing my father’s face.

  “Nor,” Zthane adds harshly, “did he add that he would stay cognizant the entire time and chat us up while you two dropped like dead weights to the ground.”

  I turn to Bios, incredulous; he merely shrugs.

  “We’re fine,” Jonah says, standing up. Kellan helps me up, his eyes filled with concern.

  I study Bios as Kellan and Zthane bombard Jonah with questions. His eyes are on me, not them. No—not his eyes. Noel Lilywhite’s eyes. The same orbs I grew up with only to watch the life get squeezed out of them.

  Now that I know what his real eyes look like, I cannot tolerate my father’s body being used like this anymore. I may not have been close to my father, but I owe him this at least. And even though I’ve never done something like this before, it feels right. I wish oh so much that I had the power of reanimation so I could bring Noel Lilywhite back to life, but I can’t. I simply have to let him finally be at peace.

  “You can’t stay in my father’s body,” I tell Bios. “You, who once ruled life and death, know that the two shouldn’t mix.”

  He says nothing. So I take a deep breath, ignoring the arguing going on behind me, and shove my hand against his chest as hard as possible, punching through the softening skin straight past the ribs. Black smoke splatters out of every pore.

  “What are you doin
g, Chloe?” Zthane shouts. He attempts to grab me, but Jonah blocks him.

  As my father’s body slumps against the metal bench, I will another body to appear next to it, one that appears exactly as he showed me he looked, right down to every single strand of hair. It’s not a living body, not like mine, but it’s good enough to put his life essences into.

  Zthane and Kellan don’t say a word, they’re so taken aback by what I’ve done.

  Bios doesn’t need an invitation; the black smoke slams into the new body so hard it convulses. While I wait for the twitching to stop, I bend down next to my father’s body.

  “You can rest now, Dad,” I whisper, and then I will it out of existence.

  “Just what the hell did he tell you two?” Kellan asks Jonah. “What could he have said that would ever warrant either of you to condone such a thing?”

  Bios continues to twitch, as if in pain. But when the spasms slow, I say loudly, “If you think you’re going to run around here in that see-through diaper, you can think again. You’re going to have to wear clothes just like every other person, even if I have to make those for you, too.”

  I look around the cell, at the plain walls and metal bed. Within seconds, we’re standing in the room Jonah and I’d inhabited earlier, complete with a window that looks out into a valley so scenic it hurts to gaze too long at it. When the twitching subsides, Bios gets up and goes to stand by it. And I can’t be sure, but I could swear a tear falls from one of his kaleidoscope eyes.

  “You want to explain to me why that killer suddenly gets a body and cush living quarters after everything it’s done to our kind? The Métis? Shit, J, for all we know, it could have been the one who killed Joey! And yet you just stood back and let its murderous ass have whatever it wants?”

  We’re back in our room, having been dragged there by a livid Kellan. Thankfully, he slammed the door behind us, but I have a sneaky suspicion everyone can hear each one of his shouted words just fine.

  “I—” But Jonah cuts me off. “If I thought he was the one who killed Joey, he would not still be standing, Kel.”

  “Well, how reassuring.” Kellan’s silent for a long moment before exploding with, “What kind of excuse is that?”

  “Um,” I try, but they are off and arguing immediately in that maddening way they do, where half their words are out loud, half inside. I eventually sit down because it’s too exhausting try to figure out what it is they’re actually talking about.

  Kellan yells, “All bets are off then, right?”

  Jonah levels him a long look, which only serves to infuriate him some more. “Pardon me,” he snaps. “By all means, if it’s only out to snatch her, then we ought to roll out the red carpet for the bastard.”

  Jonah says angrily, “This is rich, coming from you. I wanted it taken out immediately. You’re the one who insisted we keep it around.”

  “To interrogate! Not welcome into the fold!”

  Okay. This has gone on for long enough. I hate when they argue, even more so when I know it’s because of me. “Can’t you just surge, Kellan?” I snap. They turn in surprise toward me. “Get Jonah’s memories so you can see why we made the decisions we did?”

  “If I could, I would,” he throws back.

  It’s my turn to be surprised.

  “How nice of it to make sure that whatever hallucinations you two experienced are for you and you alone,” Kellan says between gritted teeth.

  Fantastic. “Fine. Then sit down and listen while I tell you what we learned from Bios.” Jonah opens his mouth, so I point at him, too, and say, “You sit down as well.”

  “No matter what it told you, how are you sure you can trust the information?” Kellan sits, but he’s practically bouncing out of his seat, he’s so antsy. “I mean, for one, it said you two would simply look lifeless. It didn’t clarify that you two would actually die.”

  “Hibernate,” I correct, offering the term Bios had thrown out before we’d left his room. “When animals hibernate, their heart rates go way down.”

  Scientific explanations apparently mean nothing to Kellan right now.

  “Look,” Jonah says. “I get why you’re upset, and if I’d been in your place, I’d be at the front of the line with my anger. Frankly, I’m not thrilled with finding out I’d been without a pulse, either—”

  “Reduced pulse!” I pipe in with.

  He ignores me. “But at least hear us out with what he’s requested.”

  “Let me guess. Silk sheets? Caviar? Water from a spring found in the Elvin Southern Hemisphere? Oh, wait. It’s already requested those things.”

  I can’t help myself. “What! Are you serious?”

  “You didn’t know?” Kellan asks me. “Oh, yeah. Your pet Elder has requested plenty of ridiculous things at an escalating pace. Just last night, it asked me if I could fetch three virgins over the age of sixty for it to enjoy.”

  Okay. Both Jonah and I kind of laugh at that one.

  “Funny for you two,” Kellan scowls, “but not the rest of us who have to put up with its shit during Q&A time on a daily basis. Bios handles Chloe here with kid gloves. The rest of us are barely scum on the bottom of its metaphorically pricey shoes.”

  “Well,” Jonah says, “rest easy, Kel, because he’s put in a request for Chloe to obliterate him and the rest of his family as soon as we get aboveground or when his orders change. And I’ve been tasked to ensure she follows through, if she weakens at the last moment.”

  “When did he say that?” I ask. And then, “Also, thank you guys for using some complete sentences here. Can we continue the rest of this conversation this way?”

  They’re both a little sheepish. Jonah eventually says, “I don’t know how to explain it, but he froze the moment in the memory walk and asked me to do it.”

  “And you believe it?” Kellan asks incredulously.

  “Actually, yeah, I do,” Jonah says. “Because he was absolutely sincere. He’s wanted to cease existing for some time now. Besides, I told him that if he steps one toe out of line the rest of the time down here, I’d encourage her to go ahead and do it sooner rather than later.”

  Kellan crosses his arms. “Why?”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Jonah says. “Bios is no saint. Far from it. But the Elders are different than we are. They don’t conceptualize right or wrong the way we do. They simply were and now are. He’s taking a huge risk right now by talking to us, because he’s pretty much signed his death warrant. In his mind, though, he’d prefer to go out by Chloe’s hand rather than Enlilkian’s.”

  Kellan throws himself down in a chair. “Fine. If you say it’s sincere, I’ll believe you. What else did it tell you of consequence?”

  “Kel, he’s been telling us everything we need to know for weeks now,” Jonah says quietly. “He’s let us know that the Elders are not a cohesive unit, at least ideologically. They’re held together by fear of punishment. Without Enlilkian, they pose no real threat to us. And if Enlilkian loses some of his biggest weapons, i.e. Bios, then he’s going to be hampered in his efforts.”

  “You think a death wish is for the common good?” Kellan asks skeptically.

  “I’m not sure,” Jonah admits. “I just know it’s real. And Bios seems to feel that, if he’s out of the picture, it’d be a blow to whatever his father’s mission is.”

  When Bios strolls into the dining room for breakfast, the entire table goes silent. He’s wearing a very tight t-shirt and jeans that show just about everything, but at least I’m grateful he followed through on dressing. His long hair is tied back into a messy ponytail, and other than resembling a statue of Adonis, he looks like he ought to be on a beach.

  I turn to Zthane, shocked. He let Bios out of his cell?

  For his part, though, the head of the Guard is just watching Bios carefully.

  “Oh my gods,” Iolani whispers to me. “This is what the guy looks like?”

  Bios drops down into the chair on the other side of Kellan, right across from me and Jo
nah. Kellan doesn’t bother disguising his revulsion, but Bios doesn’t mind. In fact, I’d even go as far to say that he rather enjoys needling Kellan.

  This cannot end well. Even though I know he’s on his best behavior, none of this feels like it will end well.

  “Do you eat?” I’m acutely aware that I’m the only one speaking at the moment. Every other person is watching Bios in fascination.

  “Occasionally.” Bios’ eyes drift over the communal plates on the table. “If the food is delectable enough. But it’s not necessary, not like it is for your kind.”

  “Oh, so sorry we couldn’t get that random fish you ordered,” Kellan mocks.

  Bios doesn’t sense the sarcasm. “I informed you where you could fetch it for me.”

  Kellan then gives me a look that basically screams, Are you kidding me by humoring it?

  To me, Bios says, “The lodgings you modified are much more tolerable now.”

  “Well. What a relief.” Kellan’s scorn is practically tangible. “We wouldn’t want somebody who’s gone out of their way to murder our kind the last few decades to be uncomfortable.”

  “Murder and survival are two very different creatures, are they not?” Bios lazes back in his chair. “From what I can tell, your kind murders beings all the time in order to consume them.”

  “Animals,” Kellan stresses. “Not people.”

  “Interesting distinction,” Bios shoots back. “Are you saying that because they cannot speak, their lives are somehow less important than yours?”

  Zthane asks mildly, “Do you not see the difference?”

  Bios studies him carefully. There’s still a lot of contempt there, although maybe muted just a hair with this small taste of freedom. “As a matter of fact, I do not.”

  “I’m sure those you have stripped of their souls and essences might disagree,” Kellan says. He has long since stopped eating.

  “Perhaps,” Bios agrees. “But, would you say that any one of the animals you eat might not feel the same?”