Victor (The Eden East Novels Book 2)

by Sacha Black

  The shadowy figures around me stop fighting and circle us: Trey and me in Victor’s body. Panic flickers in my eyes. Trey’s hand grips my throat tighter, and in response, Victor grips the knife harder. The rest of the courtyard is silent and empty. Even the blood on sheet-white snow has gone. The real me is flung outside the circle. Excluded.

  This is all wrong. Victor stands in the center, in my place, and Trey stands where Victor was. No one is in the right place. Panic drives me forward; I know how this ends, and Trey isn’t supposed to die. I pull at the bodies, desperate to get inside and stop the Victor version of me from killing Trey. But the bodies are immovable and solid like ancient statues fossilized in the ground. Tears streak my cheeks. Trey’s words echo around me again, and just like the first time this happened, the last shred of my Binding disintegrates from my arm and evaporates into the air. I watch Victor take my last breath. He rips Trey’s hand from his throat and plunges the knife straight into his heart. Trey’s body twitches then slumps to the ground. Gone.

  I scream and blink. I’m standing over Trey; blood covers my hands and drips rhythmically to the stone. Victor has vanished.

  Trey is dead, and I killed him.

  I wake, sweat pooling on my forehead, heart pumping. Every time I’ve fallen asleep since Trey and I were Bound, I’ve had nightmares. Mostly of me, or Victor, killing him. But other dreams are of bizarre twisted versions of Trutinor. Sometimes the land is bleached of color, other times it’s ravaged by war and any life left is decaying or broken, and the faces in my dreams are hollow and shadowy like their souls are lost.

  “Are you okay?” Trey asks, brushing sweaty curls away from my face.

  I shudder as the dream fades and lie on Trey’s chest; his arms wrap around me, safe, warm, protected. My hand slides up and over his heart. A silly ritual that makes me feel better. I wait. His heart beats: once, twice, three times, then I know I’m awake, and he’s safe.

  “I am now,” I say.

  Each dream is different, but they all end the same way: Trey dead and Trutinor in ruins. I don't know what it means, or why they keep happening. But what I do know, is that I'd give up my life for both of them.

  Four

  ‘From chaos comes Balance.’

  Teachings of the Last Fallon.

  We arrived in the Ancient Forest late in the evening. All four of us spent the rest of the night on the train, discussing State politics, the Northern border, and my homecoming ball that Nyx has somehow decided is happening.

  As we finish breakfast the next morning, my CogTracker pings an alert from Hermia. I pick it up and walk to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Hermia is the First Fallon’s messenger, but she also runs a tracker business and she’s a personal friend of Trey’s.

  From: Hermilda.Endlesquire@TrackerServices.com

  Subject: Lost & Found??

  To: Eden.East@FallonCogMail.com

  Good news and bad news.

  * * *

  I’ve not found either Lani or Victor, yet. But I am making progress, with Victor at least. However, Eden, I must insist that you tell Trey what you’re doing. Given my history with him and the severity of who you’re asking me to find, I don’t think it’s fair you’re putting me in this position. Have you considered just asking Cassian where Lani is? I am sure he would gladly take you to her place.

  * * *

  I have, at least, worked out why I am having problems tracking her. I can’t say over CogMail though. I want you to come to the shop as soon as you can – Kato says he can modify all our CogTrackers so they’re encrypted. I won’t disclose details over CogMail until he has. We don’t know who’s listening, especially after Victor’s little public appearance.

  * * *

  Tell Trey.

  * * *

  That’s all.

  * * *

  I’m off for a drink.

  * * *

  P.S. T.E.L.L T.R.E.Y.

  * * *

  H x

  I close my CogTracker and return to the breakfast table, distracted and wondering how I should tell Trey what I’ve done.

  We leave Nyx and Titus on the train to wait for us and walk across the Ancient Forest’s main platform. A mesh of thick branches and leaves weave a tunnel over the tracks, blocking out most of the morning light. I shiver and pull on an oversized sweater I found in the train’s wardrobe; it used to be my father’s. If I lift the collar of his sweater up, I can still smell his aftershave. My chest twinges as the scent of autumn rain fills my nose; it’s fresh and warm, all in the same breath, just like his essence - water. I hesitate but take another sniff because today the memory of him feels more like a comfort than the devastating pain of weeks gone by. Trey slips his hand into mine, and we walk through the canopied darkness of the Ancient Forest.

  The center of Trutinor isn’t much further, but I slow my pace anyway; I’m enjoying the alone time with Trey too much. I glance up at him, just to reassure myself he’s real and still mine.

  As we near the center of the forest, rays of light spear through the canopy and shower us with warmth. I hold him back.

  “Everything alright?” he says, turning to me.

  I grin, wrap my arms around his neck, and pull him down so I can slide my lips over his. Pushing a kiss deep into his mouth, he picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He staggers toward a tree trunk and leans me against it. I break the kiss and stroke his bristly cheek. “I love you,” I say.

  “I love you too,” he says, leaning in and kissing my neck. His familiar frankincense smell washes over me, as does his breath, and with it, a throb of magic. He keeps his Siren powers under such strict control, sometimes I wonder if he’s afraid of them.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, scanning my face.

  “I’m fine,” I say, brushing my lips against his, “I’m happy. Right here, with you. In this moment. I don’t want any of this to change.”

  He places the softest kiss on my lips as if savoring the taste and then puts me down on the floor, “Nothing’s going to change, Eden. We’re Bound. No more Eve, no more Victor.”

  My stomach twists. I hate when he calls her Eve instead of Evelyn.

  “I know that,” I say, and trail off trying to decide what it is I’m feeling. I guess when you finally get the thing you’ve wanted for so long, you realize how fragile happiness can be. It teeters, like the trapeze artist on the thinnest of wires, and even the lightest of breezes could send her tumbling into oblivion.

  We continue toward the center of the forest. Within a minute, the tree line breaks, and we step into a circular clearing. Hot summer rays blare down on us, a warm contrast to the shade under the forest covering. Dozens of Keepers, Council members, and school children mill around, some doing business, others using it as a meeting point, and the children, I assume, on school visits. In the middle of the clearing, the five wooden root-towers of Trutinor Council soar into the air. Each tower is bent and gnarled like a witch’s finger, prehistoric roots that entwine hundreds of feet in the air and then burst apart again to form points. Where the roots meet the earth, archways maw open in their bases: five arches for the five States.

  Trey pulls me around, swinging me into his arms, “I’ll see you in two. I’m going in through the Siren entrance. Don’t forget me.”

  “Don’t take my memories then.”

  “Ouch,” he says, sucking the air, “one-nil to Eden.”

  I laugh and blow a cocky kiss at him, then head toward the East State’s door. I might be joking about him taking my memories now, but when I discovered what he’d done, it nearly tore us apart. On the night of my sixteenth birthday - almost two years ago - I was going to break it off with him. We’d been meeting in secret because we were meant to be Bound to other people, or so we thought. Victor was going to be named my Potential the following day, and Trey was already Bound to Evelyn. I guess Trey thought he was protecting me by taking my memories of him away. In his mind, that way, being apart from each other
wouldn’t hurt. It did, of course, and when I found out what he’d done, I was furious.

  Like all the arches, the East State entrance is door-less. It’s meant to be a symbol of the openness and connectivity of all Keepers: united in our mission to bring Balance to the realms. For the first few feet, the tunnel is dark, but as I pass through a layer of hanging vines representing the earth element, the tunnel gets lighter. Two types of lantern hang from the wall, one pulsating electricity representing the air element, the other, fire: two more of the elements we control. Together they throw a strange orangey-violet hue over the earthy corridor. It takes about five minutes to walk the length of the tunnel, deep enough into the belly of Trutinor that my ears pop when I reach the end. I pass through a watery door, a mirage representing the final element, and down a set of steps into Trutinor’s Council foyer.

  The chamber is a vast underground cavern with walls made of the same twisted tree roots that stretch into the sky overground. Around the edges are several doors and tunnels leading off to chambers, offices, and Council areas. The five tunnel archways leading from the State entrances are spread evenly around the perimeter of the room. Except for the South and West, where there’s a gap.

  Although there was never a door in the wall, if you squint at the floor, you can just make out the shadow of an arch – the remains of the sixth State none of us talk about. That tunnel leads to the sea and Aurora’s Mermaids. Across the rest of the floor, carved in gold, are our State symbols.

  Trey smiles and waves as he enters through the South State entrance on the opposite side of the cavern.

  “I don’t see why we need to give evidence again,” I say as I reach him. We walk through the foyer to the main Council Chamber. “I’m hoping we won’t have to given Victor’s rather public appearance yesterday.”

  Trey snorts, “Give over, this is Cecilia we’re talking about. Torturing us is sport.”

  “I just wish the Council was awake enough to see what’s going on.”

  “They’ll see. Eventually. But we need to pick our battles like Arden says.” He lowers his voice, “The Libra Legion informal meet and greet is in a few days. Hopefully, we’ll know more then. But for now, we just need to stick to the plan and survive the trial.”

  The Libra Legion is the army that Arden founded when he discovered mine and Trey’s prophecy cog. My parents were part of it, and I’m going to attend a few meetings out of respect for them. In my heart, I know they’d want me to join.

  “Mmm,” I say, “I know the Legion is trying to do the right thing, and I really do love Arden, but it feels like we’re rolling over and letting her get away with poisoning Trutinor.”

  “I get that, but no one ever said war was easy to end. Especially not when there’s an immortal, all-powerful being on either side of the battle.”

  “I guess,” I say, and change the subject. “So it’s been weeks…”

  “I already dislike where this is going.”

  I ignore him because Hermia’s right, I do need to tell him I commissioned her to track his mother down. “So, umm…We still haven’t agreed about your mother.”

  Trey halts. “Eden, I told you. What difference does it make if she is alive? I don’t want to know her. She left me to fend for myself and my little brother when I was twelve…” he cocks his head and pinches his mouth, pretending to think. “Yeah. I’m good without knowing that mother, thanks.”

  I take him by the shoulders, “You can’t avoid this forever. I won’t let you. And you’re missing the point. What if she did those things for a reason? What if there’s something bigger we’re missing? We’re still part of a prophecy, Trey. Don’t you think you should at least give her the chance to explain?”

  “Explain why she inflicted the torture of Inheritance on her flesh and blood for no reason?” His voice drops to a growl, “Did I mention that she left a kid in charge of an entire Trutinor State? Or that she gave up her Fallon magic, and for what? To look after Maddison’s Unbound baby? No, Eden. No, I really don’t care why she did it.” A flicker of red flashes across his blue eyes.

  “Fine. I’ll drop it,” I say, “but only because this isn’t the place, and you need to control yourself unless you want to create a crack in the vault...” and because I know you’re lying, and the fact you’re angry tells me you do need to deal with this, which is exactly why I asked Hermia to track her down in the first place. But I don’t add that aloud because cracking his vault is just as bad as cracking mine.

  The vault is a by-product of the Inheritance we both experienced. When our parents died, we Inherited their power, making both of us Imbalanced. Something the Council thinks we got rid of when we were Bound to our Potentials. We didn’t. We just learned to hide it better by stowing it away in a kind of mental prison that we call the vault; it’s better locked shut because when it opens, bad things happen.

  “Consider it dropped.” For now.

  “Thank you,” he says, cupping my neck and placing a stiff kiss on my mouth.

  I wrap my arms around his back, and slide them into his skinny jeans pockets, pulling him into my body. He grins at me, his body relaxing.

  “You’re infuriating, you know that?” he says.

  “A special, lovable kind of infuriating, you mean.”

  He rolls his eyes and leans in, millimeters from my lips. He must lower the barrier on his Siren powers because my eyes shut, and I suck in a breath as tingles and heat blend together. His mouth moves over mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth.

  “Ahem,” a strained cough from behind makes us jump apart. “You’re late,” Nivvy Pushton says, brushing her untamable blond hair behind her ears. She flattens her green tunic and floor-length skirt, then moves behind us hustling us through a corridor toward the Council Chamber. Nivvy is a Sorcerer and the Council’s secretary; she’s also a ball of nervous energy.

  We walk through another corridor moving deeper underground where the scent of wood and wet earth grows stronger. The tunnel eventually opens into the Council Chamber, another hollow cavern with the same root-walls as the foyer. There’s a long table at the front of the chamber with two dozen throne-like chairs behind it. Some are alight with fire or electricity; others are made of tree or animal furs, each one representing a part of Trutinor. A little way behind the Council table are five colored drapes hanging from the ceiling with our State symbols emblazoned on them. In front of the drapes, on a raised platform, is a pure white throne, the back of which is carved into white flames. A cold chill runs down my spine as my eyes meet Cecilia’s. The First Fallon’s milk-white skin and lilac eyes stiffen, and she sits a little higher in her throne, her lips tightening into a smile as she watches us, her pray, enter the chamber.

  Trey and I bow to her as we pass, her face blank except for her eyes following us through the room, like a haunted painting. It makes me shiver, so I drag my gaze away. Curved around the other side of the room are rows of knitted roots protruding from the earth to form benched seating areas for Council members.

  Israel Dark, the deputy head of the Council, nods to me as I enter. He’s been acting as head of the Council since my father died and will do for the next couple of months until my eighteenth birthday when, much to both of our annoyances, I will take over. Israel is far more suited to Council life than me; I’d rather be in the trenches of the front line, fixing Imbalances and protecting Trutinor. But thanks to an ancient law, neither of us are going to get our way.

  Once Trey and I have taken seats at the top table, the room fills fast, and the last Council members take their seats, each one stopping to bow to the First Fallon.

  Israel, already at the Council table, stands. The black leather from his uniform creaks as he rises. He pushes his fur cape behind his shoulder and signals for silence, “Welcome, your Majesty, Keepers, Fallons, and Council members. Given recent ahh, events… Today’s agenda is a lengthy one, so I ask for your patience as we make our way through the items of business.”

  Arden, my father’s
best friend, is sat opposite me, his green-robed rotund belly resting on the edge of the table. He rubs his hand over his gray handlebar beard and smiles at me. He looks tired: rich plum colored bags hang from his eyes, and as I scan him, I notice an air of the disheveled about him. Nothing’s quite as pressed and neat as it should be. I wonder if all the additional Libra Legion work is taking its toll or if he’s just been drinking too much again.

  Israel, the First Fallon, and a few of the older Council members start talking about rebels and attacks in the forest, so I tune out.

  I open my CogTracker and flip across the tabs to my CogMail messages. There are already half a dozen from Nyx. How she can have sent that many since I left the train I don’t know. I open the first one, read the first line:

  Don’t even think about ignoring this Eden…

  And promptly close it. The next one is from Bo. I skim it; there’s no news from Kato yet, he’s not managed to trace the source of Victor’s network hack yet, and she’s having a clothing dilemma deciding what to wear on Monday for the first day of lessons. I’m not dealing with any of that now. I reach to close my CogTracker, but another mail pings in from Trey. I glance up at him, and his lips twitch.

  From: Trey.Luchelli@FallonCogMail.com

  Subject: Urgent

  To: Eden.East@FallonCogMail.com

  How can I possibly be angry with you when you’re sat there all lilac eyed with your gorgeous curls… It makes me want to rip your clothes off and ravish you on the Council table…