by Rachel West
My heart flutters at his words. He has to come back. We need him. I need him. I meet his eyes, words of protest on my lips but the look he gives me freezes my tongue. Faith. Confidence. He trusts me to take on what he can’t. How can I let him down? How can I doubt myself when he has such faith in me?
“Not a problem,” I say with a cocky confidence that defies the tremble in my fingers.
CHAPTER 18
It takes over a week before Jaxon’s prepared to go to Crescent city. We spend the morning he leaves walking through the Hollows together. Discussing the plans we made for an attack on Westwick Manor while he’s gone. A distraction, he calls it. A way to keep the Praetors and the Millennials focused on the Westwick slums, leaving Jaxon able to move freely through Crescent City gathering the support he needs and rescuing his friend.
I embrace him inside the hidden greenhouse entrance to the Hollows. He’s transformed. In the short week of his preparations he somehow lost all the wildness that the Hollows has carved into him. In its place is the immaculate clothing and slicked back hair of the Millennial I met on a dark night in a dark alley the moment that everything changed.
Millennial. Prince. Son of the Great Uniter. It’s all back in his bearing. But when he smiles goodbye there’s a fierceness that wasn’t there before and I know that he will come back to me.
There are no words to be said. Our promises have been made. Our plans created and discussed and dissected until there is nothing left but action.
So I let him leave me. A small crew follows him. Antony and two of his boys to help smuggle Jaxon through the freebranches. And suddenly I am left with an emptiness in a place that I never knew had been filled.
I decide to seek out Annie. Family is what I need right now. I’ve hardly seen her since we took up residence in the Hollows. Each time I enter our room --what’s practically become her room– she finds some excuse to leave. A trip to the market. A visit to one of the friends she’s made here. Anything to keep from speaking with me and it’s time for it to stop. Whatever has come between us needs to be confronted.
I make my way through the Hollows with my hood pulled low. Even with the halfhearted disguise, I am recognized in the hallways that are overflowing with people that somehow find room to let me through. I pass through the market, stopping at one of the vendors to buy a smoked meat plate for Annie and I to share for lunch. As I dig through my pocket for two copper chips the old man shoves the plate at me. “No. No,” he pushes the food into my hands, his eyebrows waggling comically. “For you. Free. Best in the Hollows.” He lifts another long, thin slab of meat off the grill and drops it on top of the already overflowing plate.
“I couldn’t-- ”
“Free.” He repeats again with determination.
Flustered by the growing crowd around me I take the plate. “Thank you,” I repeat twice over, realizing I sound a fool. Next time I’ll make sure to leave a little extra money in his jar to make up for the generosity. The price of food has skyrocketed through the slums as the Great Uniter has tried to choke the flow of trade between districts.
I push through the crowd, carefully balancing the overflowing plate as I continue on to our small pod of rooms. Other vendors call out to me. Hawking beautiful metal-worked jewelry and far more practical weapons. I ignore their calls and allow the sounds of the market to fade to background noise as I head into the quieter, residential areas of the Hollows.
I pause in the small hallway that separates our three rooms. Muffled voices flow out from the bedroom Annie and I share. Red? No, this morning he stated he was going to try to and gather more recruits from the Coliseum. I lean forward and press my ear against the door. The aluminum is chilled, like ice against my skin as I spy on my own sister.
“..can’t tell anyone..” Annie’s voice says. The man mumbles something back but it is impossible to make the words out. What is my sister doing alone with a strange man? I think of all the things Jaxon and I get up to behind closed doors and a blush heats my cheeks. Impossible. My sister is only fifteen. She couldn’t be..?
I push open the door. I have to know. My sister sits alone on the bed, her legs crossed beneath her. Sitting on the floor at her feet is an unfamiliar man. He’s older than she is. A lot older. In his twenties at least, maybe late twenties. His dark hair curls down and around blue eyes. Good-looking, I guess. But old. Too old for Annie.
The man’s eyes go wide and I see recognition on his face. “Hello,” I say tersely. With the flow of people into the Hollows I no longer recognize even half the faces but they all somehow know mine.
“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking,” Annie ignores my greeting.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you had company in our room,” I say, stressing the ‘our’ even though I hadn’t spent a night here in over a week. I let the door fall shut behind me and step into the center of the small room. The older man scrambles back towards the bed, as if Annie’s presence is enough to protect him.
“I didn’t realize I needed permission to invite my friends over,” Annie says, uncowed by the anger I can’t manage to hide. If only she realized I was trying to protect her. Not control her. Not hurt her. I spent years in the Hollows and I know the type of men an innocent looking girl like my sister attracts.
The man scrambles to his feet, not oblivious to the underpinnings of the conversation. “I’ll see you later,” he mumbles to Annie. With one last look he darts past me, pulling the door shut too quickly behind him. I’m embarrassed by the fear my presence caused in him. The same fear I see others give to the Praetors. The Millennials. Like I’ve somehow become more than them.
“Who was that?” I ask Annie.
“My friend.”
“Don’t you think he’s a little…old?” I ask indelicately.
“No.”
“Oh.” I try to withhold my judgment. Annie has lived a life that I have no knowledge of. Her time at the camps is a secret that she holds tight even from me. Maybe what she needs is a friend. Someone she can trust. A confidant that she hasn’t been able to find in her own family. “That’s good,” I say softly.
“Can I help you with something?” Annie asks, “Or are you just planning on standing there all day.”
I set the steaming plate of smoked meats on the bedside table as a peace offering. “I thought we could have lunch together.”
“Oh Goodie. What’s the special occasion,” she asks sarcastically. “Is your Millennial too busy to pay attention to you?”
“Jaxon left,” I respond sharply then clamp my hand over my mouth.
“What?” Annie drops her arms, an expression of shock on her face and I realize that I never told her of Jaxon’s plans to go to Crescent City. It hits me suddenly, how great the distance between my sister and I has grown. Everything that’s happening all began with her and somehow I’ve pushed her completely out of it. “Good,” she says, “maybe now you can stop this stupid rebellion and things can go back to normal. Then we’ll finally be safe again.”
I turn to stare aghast at my sister, “Stop?” Does she think Jaxon is the only thing that pushes us forward? Doesn’t she see the desperation in the eyes of every person here in the Hollows? Of everyone out in Westwick Slums or those who have slowly begun trickling in from the other districts.
“Everyone is dying and nothing has changed,” Annie says simply. “If nothing is changing why do you keep fighting?”
“These things take time,” I argue back “You can’t just -- the world doesn’t change overnight.”
“Hasn’t it been long enough? Things are only getting worse.”
“Sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better.” Shouldn’t that be obvious? Everyone who has joined us understands that. “We are fighting three hundred years of stagnancy, we knew from the start it wouldn’t be easy. We always knew that are chances of success were small - -but look what we’ve done. We’ve grown from dozens of followers to thousands - and those are just the ones who declared themselves
, imagine the tens of thousands in Haven that probably pray every night for our success.”
“It’s stupid,” Annie says stubbornly, “You should never have gotten involved in the first place. Because of this - -because of Jaxon -- the Praetors will punish all of us!”
“It’s not like that Annie. They killed our mother -- for what? Because she tried to defend us? How many children have lost their parents to the Praetors? How many parents have watched their children die because they were too afraid to step forward? Living like that, afraid all the time, that’s not living at all. And we have the chance to change that. The chance to change all of that and it is all thanks to Jaxon. So don’t you dare speak of him like that.”
“Oh,” Annie responds sarcastically, “So now you can control what I can and can’t say? Sounds an awful lot like the Praetors to me. How do you know that Jaxon isn’t just using us to overthrow his father so he can take power?”
“He’s not like that,” I defend.
“How do you know that? How much do you really know him?”
I stare hard at Annie for a moment. I knew she didn’t like Jaxon. I knew she didn’t trust him. But this rage? I thought she was over it. Or maybe I never truly saw it. Ever since that first night in the workcamps where she set eyes on him it must have been churning inside of her. How much of it is directed at Jaxon and how much is reserved for me? I take a deep, shuddering breath. Trying to calm my own anger. Trying to remind myself that she spent nearly half her life imprisoned and I can’t just expect her to be okay the moment she is set free.
“You can never trust anyone,” she says into my silence.
I turn from the room, knowing that the tremble in my fingers is a sign of anger I won’t be able to contain. Let her think I believe her words. Let her think she’s right. Even overwhelmed by frustration all I want is to protect her. To make it right.
I let the door fall shut with a crash behind me and take deep breaths in the middle of the hallway. Someone brushes their hand against my shoulder. I startle against the unexpected touch and whip around to see Red towering about me, an inexplicable expression on his face. Was he outside? Did he overhear everything? A blush burns in my cheeks. Of everyone, Red knows me best. He’d know what my sister’s rejection would mean to me.
“Evie…” he begins to say.
“No,” I raise a hand to cut him off. I can’t stand hearing it from him too. It’s bad enough hearing the words from my sister. He’s a Millennial. Can’t trust him. I can’t bear to hear it from my best friend. Not right now. Not when I have battles to plan and plans to hold down. Not when Jaxon’s departure is so raw and I am somehow expected to hold all of it together by myself.
“Listen,” he grabs my shoulders, shaking me lightly to get my attention.
“What?” I sigh with defeat. Maybe if I give him a few moments to get his jabs in he’ll leave me alone. I just need a few minutes of quiet. A few minutes of peace. Then I can face it all again.
“You’re right.” The deep growl of his words strengthens my spine.
“W-what?”
His shoulders stiffen at the look of surprise on my face. “You’re right,” he repeats as if I hadn’t heard him the first time. “Annie spent so much of her life at the work-prison, she never saw what it was here. She was too young when she left to understand the things she might have seen. “
I plead with my eyes, begging him to continue. Begging his words to be true because right now I need someone on my side. I need someone to agree with me at this moment because everything feels wrong and I am all alone and I just need someone to look at me and tell me everything is going to be okay in the end.
“We’re doing the right thing -- no matter how hard it gets, always remember that we are doing the right thing.”
“I know,” I whisper, “I wish I could make her see that.”
“She’ll see it eventually,” he claps me on the back and suddenly the seriousness of the moment is gone. “Now, we have a coup to plan. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 19
“It’s a rather secured bit of architecture,” Antony, leader of the Foxes, says.
“I get that, but can you get in? That’s all I need to know.”
“I have, once before gained entrance,” Antony taps three gloved fingers against his chin, “A lovely place, it was. Fit for a King,” his eyes narrow in on me, “or a Millennial Queen.”
“If we rid the city of Garbrand Westwick, the district will be ours,” Red says.
“Yeah, but he’s got hundreds of Praetors guarding him. He knows he’s next on the list,” Kalia says.
“Which is of course, where I may be of some use,” Antony interrupts. “My Foxes and I will maneuver ourselves into a position of assault and with the proper distraction--”
“-- just say you’re going to break in when my bombs go off,” Kaila cuts him off with exasperation.
“Yes, as the feral one has so rudely stated: My Foxes and I will break in. Once within, we will disengage --“
“--break the lock on--“
“Yes,” Antony glares viciously at Kalia, “We will open the main gate for your men.”
“--and women,” Kalia cuts in once more.
“Enough!” Ezzor growls.
Kalia ducks her head, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Sorry,” she mumbles, but the grin that pulls at her lips tells me she’s not. I can’t help but respond with a grin of my own. Tensions are running high as the five of us crouch together on the roof of one of the cities tall apartment buildings. Westwick Manor -- compound is more like -- is visible in the distance. Thickly intricate iron gates surround the area. The manor, the central location, is surrounded by half a dozen outbuildings. Even from this distance the Praetors training in the yard are visible.
Garbrand Westwick, the Millennial placed in charge of the Westwick district by the Great Uniter over a hundred years ago has had no interest in engaging with the population he oversees. In my lifetime, I’ve only seen him venture into the streets twice to speak to those he deems beneath him. The rest of his time is spent secured behind the tall walls of his compound while his family stays in their more lavish villa on Crescent City.
With the unrest in the city it’s clear that he’s bulked up his protection. According to Jaxon’s intelligence a contingent of Praetors has descended from the Westwick Presidio and taken up position in Garbrand’s mansion. From our viewpoint I can see a dozen men patrolling the walls and four times as many training on the expansive lawn that surrounds the manor. Even the great gates of the manor can’t fully keep out the taint of the slums. Muddy ash covers the lawn with only the barest hint of green struggling free.
“We’ll need hundreds to volunteer,” Red muses half to himself. “A thousand even.”
A humming overhead draws our attention to the sky. A war zeppelin, thinner and more maneuverable than the bloated, pot-bellied zeppelins typically seen, shines a bright spotlight into the city beneath it. The five of us duck in closer to the wall as a half-dozen h-bikes zip through the air like fruit flies around a half-rotten apple. I pull my hood close as the spotlight shines on the rooftop where we hide but we remain unseen as the airship goes bobbing past.
We sit in tense silence until the last of the Praetor guided h-bikes disappears and the buzz that announced their arrival fades into the distance.
“We have the numbers,” I continue our conversation. “But will they follow us without Jaxon?”
Antony watches me with a speculative look in his eye. “My dear, they follow you as much as that Millennial you so adore. You’ll have no trouble gathering your army.
Ezzor grunts something that sounds suspiciously like “told you so” which I politely choose to ignore.
I glare at Antony, sure that his words are somehow mocking, but as he adjusts the bowtie at his neck his look is guileless. “Maybe,” I say. I don’t believe a word of it. “Tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow,” Red agrees as everyone around us stands a bit straight
er. Even the usually dour Ezzor is unable to hide his excitement.
***
The manor looms up before us. I watch as Antony slips away and into the darkness. It happens in an instant, one moment my eyes can follow him, the next he is gone like he was never there at all. I shuffle impatiently in place. The warehouse is heavy with the breathing of hundreds. Low, keening sounds of fear as men prepare to face their deaths.
A hand on my shoulder makes me stiffen, but it is only Red. “We got this,” he says.
I know he is trying to reassure me, but all I can think is that if Jaxon were here, he would stand tall in front of us, tell us how he had no doubt we would win today. His words would inspire the kind of battle that only loyalty can lead to.
“Yeah,” I say then have to clamp my lips shut because I feel like my teeth are about to start chattering out of my mouth. I look for anything to distract myself. Kalia runs from person to person, handing out bright blue armbands to distinguish us from the Praetors. The uniforms we have been slowly gathering from the Praetors have been stripped, looking nothing like they did before and impossible to mistake, but even still, the armbands have become something of a tradition.
A blast like gunfire in the distance makes me jump. I listen closely to see if any further sounds follow; a pattering of bullets, a sound that could be a man screaming or a cat in heat. I glance at Red and his eyes are narrowed at the eastern sky. “It seems this is not tonight’s only battle.”
“I’ve sent some of the men to distract the Praetors throughout the city.” Ezzor comes up behind us. “Busier they are, less likely we’ll get interrupted.”
I nod as if I knew all along and I see Red glance at me through the corner of his eye. Ezzor is right; it’s smart and the fact that I didn’t think of it myself stings like a shallow knife wound. I’m supposed to lead these people and so far it feels like all I’ve done is stumble behind in the shadow of others.
