by J. Stone
Petronila then began to transition between everyone Wynonna had gone to bed with, everyone she’d ever wanted to. With the soul eater inside their flesh, they all looked ugly and cruel. She stopped with Iris, the fortune teller from Courtland that had given her the branching prophecy which led to Corrigan’s death.
“You made the wrong choice,” the woman said, her face gaunt and shadowed.
“You’re not her,” Wynonna replied. “You’re not any of them.”
Petronila ignored her, continuing her facade of Iris. “I tried to warn you,” she said. “That night that we laid together--”
“I never did anything like that with you, soul eater!”
“--I thought I could get you to care about someone other than yourself.”
“I do! I did!”
“You killed your master. All to satisfy your own vengeance. No one benefited from your choice.”
“The Gentleman is dead, isn’t he?”
“And you stuck a blade in the chest of the man who saved your life. His greatest mistake was helping you. If he’d let you die, he’d yet live.”
“Fuck you!” Wynonna shouted. “Shut your damn mouth!”
Iris cackled in Petronila’s voice, before she vanished altogether.
“Wynonna?” a familiar voice asked from behind her.
The vespari pushed herself off the bed and stood up to see Rohan, the so-called oathbreaker coming toward her.
“We have to get you out of here,” he told her.
Feeling a malaise come over her mind, Wynonna somehow forgot the dream Petronila trapped her in, and she thought it all real again.
“What are you doing here?” Wynonna asked. “They’ll kill you if they see you.”
“You’re all that matters,” he said. “I came to save you.”
“I don’t need saving,” she said, shaking her head. “You have to go.”
“I can’t go without you. I need you. You’re all I can think about.”
His words not quite matching up to the man she remembered, Wynonna stumbled back toward a wall. “No, that’s--”
“Right now,” he continued. “I need you right now.” He slipped off his trench coat and dropped it to the ground as he approached her, bracing his palm against the wall behind her and leaning in toward her. “Just like last time,” he said. “I want inside you.”
“No!” she shouted, pushing him away. “This isn’t real! You’re not him!”
“You’re such a tease,” Rohan said with a distorted interpretation of the smirk she’d so appreciated on his. After a pause, he added, “I know.”
The body before her changed once again, and now it was Ernest Hildebrand standing before her.
“You just need a real man,” he said. “You need someone to take control. I’ll give you what you need.”
Ernest grabbed Wynonna by the throat and pushed her back against the wall. She struggled and tried to fight against him, but in this dreamscape, Petronila was in control. Wynonna had no power here no matter how much she railed against the illusions. The vespari clenched her eyes shut, screaming in powerless frustration.
“Release me from this prison!” Petronila hissed.
Wynonna opened her eyes to see the soul eater before her now. “I’d sooner die,” she replied.
Glaring, Petronila said, “Then, you better close those eyes again. You’re not going to like what happens next.”
***
Opening her eyes once more and hoping for it to be real this time, Wynonna saw Spencer leaning over her. He held a damp cloth, dabbing her injuries and clearing away the blood from her face. Seeing her wake, he stopped and gave her a timid smile.
“I see you’ve killed a vampire,” he said.
“Huh?” she muttered, blinking several times to try to get her bearings.
“Your wounds are already regenerating.”
“Oh, right.”
“That might be the only reason you’re still alive. They didn’t go easy on you.”
“They’re cowards,” she told him, trying to sit up.
“No, no,” he said, pushing her back down. “Regeneration or not, you need to rest.”
She pushed his hand off him and sat up regardless. “I’m fine.” Looking around, she didn’t recognize anything in the room. “Where am I?”
“The vespari quarters,” he replied, reminding Wynonna of Petronila’s cruel dream. She just hoped this wasn’t another trick. She couldn’t take another one so soon.
Wynonna stood, nearly falling, but bracing herself against a nearby wall, she held steady. The room was rather small, with only enough space for the bed, a trunk, the chair Spencer sat in, a nightstand beside the bed with a scrap of paper on it, and a single window. As she stood, so too did the librarian, and he grabbed the paper and walked around to the other side of the bed.
Holding his hand out to her, he said, “At least let me help.”
Wynonna ignored the hand he held out and instead looked to the other. “What do you have there?” she asked.
“Oh,” he replied, flipping the piece of paper up toward her. “Your sketch.”
“What? I thought you only drew sketches once they considered someone a real vespari.”
“Normally, yes, but Nicolae seems certain that you’ll become one of them. He insisted I take this time to draw you.” Holding it up for her to see, he asked, “What do you think?”
She hardly looked at it and pushed herself off the wall. “It’s fine, but I have to go.”
Spencer folded the paper sketch and slipped it into his pocket, once more insisting, “Let me help.”
Wynonna looked at his hand, up at him, frowned, and then finally grabbed hold, knowing she wasn’t going to make it on her own. “I’m supposed to see the elders,” she said, using him to get to the door. “How long was I out?”
“Just a couple hours,” he replied, opening the door and helping her outside. “They’re aware of the attack.”
“What are they going to do about it?” she asked, as they began down the hall.
“What do you mean?”
“Ernest attacked me. Aren’t they going to do something about it?”
Spencer looked at her and shook his head. “By all accounts, you started the fight. Is it true?”
“He started it; I just threw the first punch.”
“I’m afraid that’s all that the elders will care about.”
Wynonna vented her frustration with a puff of air out of her nose.
“This might make your confirmation more difficult too.”
“Then, they haven’t simply decided to throw me out?”
“I don’t believe so. Nicolae still sponsors you.” He paused for a moment and looked over at her. “In all this, I nearly forgot. Did you accomplish the first task? Is Rohan dead?”
Wynonna nodded.
“I suppose that’s good for you. It means you’ve proven your loyalty to the elders. It’s unfortunate though.”
“Why?” she asked. “He was an oathbreaker, right?”
“That’s what they say, but it means that the Dowd name will likely die with Ambrose.”
Seeing an opportunity to learn more about the elder that Rohan suspected of working with the cultists, Wynonna asked, “What do you think about him? Ambrose.”
Arriving at the stairs, Spencer took each step before her, helping her slowly descend them. “He’s a good man. Tough. Strict. A bit distant. I think he wants what’s best for the order though.”
“Hm,” she muttered, gripping her aching stomach with one hand.
The pair was quiet the rest of the way down the stairs, and when they arrived at the third floor, Spencer guided her to the elders’ chamber. He knocked on the door, while she let go of his hand and leaned against the wall, and they both waited for a moment in silence. The door soon creaked open, and Nicolae stood before them.
“Ah, Wynonna,” he said. “It is good to see you on your feet again.” The elder turned to the librarian. “Thank you, S
pencer. We will take it from here.”
Spencer nodded, turned, and left, heading back toward the stairs.
“Come,” Nicolae said, gesturing for Wynonna to enter.
The injured vespari nodded and pushed off the wall, managing to balance herself without help, and she walked forward into the elders’ chamber. Both Ambrose and Bowater were already there, and this time, they sat at their round table at the center of the room.
“You just can’t seem to control your temper,” Bowater said before Nicolae had even closed the door.
Wynonna stumbled forward, ignoring his comment.
“Well, nothing to say for yourself?”
She glared at him. “Ernest started it.”
“You threw the first punch.”
“He should learn some manners.”
“And you should learn some discipline!”
Ambrose waved a hand at his fellow elder, while Nicolae walked past Wynonna and sat down. “Enough, Albert,” he said.
“It isn’t,” Bowater replied. “The girl is causing a fracture in the brotherhood. She doesn’t belong here, and this incident only proves it.”
Ambrose sighed and looked at Wynonna. “It does seem like it might be in your best interest to forget all of this,” the elder told her. “The vespari, as a whole, don’t take well to change. Perhaps you should just quit this and go back to your old life while you still can.”
“I’m not quitting,” she said, almost to the point of snarling. “I don’t care what the others think of me.”
“The vespari are a collective,” Nicolae said. “As much promise as you may have, you will need to find a way to work alongside everyone here.”
“Tell them that,” she muttered.
“Let’s move on,” Ambrose said. “We gave you a challenge. Albert said that you reported it accomplished. Is that correct?”
Rather than say anything, Wynonna reached inside her duster and pulled Rohan’s revolver from under her belt. After placing it down on the table in front of her, she grabbed his vespari medallion as well and set it next to the revolver.
“Then, it’s done,” Nicolae said. Turning to his fellow elder, he added, “I’m sorry, Ambrose. He was a good student.”
“He was an oathbreaker,” Bowater interjected.
Ambrose cut his eyes across the table at him but said nothing.
“Then, that is all,” Nicolae said. “We can mark an end to this concern.”
“Wait,” Ambrose said. Looking at Wynonna and narrowing his eyes, he asked, “Did he say anything to you?”
Wynonna stared at him for a moment, unsure whether his inquisitiveness was due to his potential role as the cultist or simply because he had been Rohan’s master. “About what?” she asked.
“Anything. Did he say anything about why he ran? Why he fired upon us? About why he broke his oaths?”
“No.” Wynonna lied, shaking her head. “We didn’t talk. I just did what I had to.”
“Did he suffer?” Nicolae asked. “I know it had to be done, but I hope he didn’t suffer needlessly.”
“No. I made it quick.”
Wynonna then watched each of their faces, trying to discern anything she could from their expressions. Bowater was predictably unconcerned by her report of Rohan’s death. She wasn’t certain whether that was because he didn’t care about the oathbreaker or if he simply disguised his intentions with indifference.
Ambrose proved harder to read. His face remained still and expressionless. Wynonna thought that when she’d first reported Rohan’s death that she saw a hint of sadness on his face, but he didn’t allow it to linger. She supposed it made sense for him to have a regret whether he was the traitor in their midst or not. After all, Rohan had been Ambrose’s apprentice. They shared the Dowd name. They had a strong connection, and she suspected that even if he was the one that had spoken with the cultist in the elders’ chamber, he still had feelings for his apprentice.
Nicolae, meanwhile, did not attempt to hide his emotions. He seemed to wear his feelings on his face and in his body language. Upon her report of Rohan’s death, the elder genuinely seemed sad, and when she told them that the oathbreaker hadn’t suffered, Nicolae acted relieved. Wynonna had already largely ruled out Nicolae due to his weight, but this further cemented her belief that he wasn’t the elder responsible.
“She killed an oathbreaker,” Bowater eventually replied. “She’s proved nothing but her cold blood.”
“Then, we must decide on a new challenge,” Ambrose said, laying his hands flat against the table. Turning to Nicolae, “Assuming you wish to continue your sponsorship.”
The portly elder nodded. “I do, but it is getting late. Perhaps, we should think on a challenge over the night and reconvene tomorrow.”
“I’m ready now,” Wynonna told him.
He smiled at her. “You can barely stand. You need your rest. Besides, I’m sure you are still hungry. As I understand it, you didn’t get a proper meal before your confrontation with Hildebrand.”
Wynonna sighed but knew that he was right. “Okay.”
“You can use the same room as before after you eat. And, I have informed the others not to bother you further. Come see me if there is an issue rather than confront them.”
“I can handle myself,” she replied.
“No,” he told her. “If there are any further outbursts, I will have no choice but to end my sponsorship. I believe you have potential, Wynonna, but you must prove you can control your temper.”
Wynonna said nothing, staring into the grain of the round table before her.
“Is that clear?” Nicolae asked.
She didn’t answer immediately, but after taking a heavy breath, she finally said, “I understand.”
“Good. We will talk further tomorrow.”
Wynonna nodded and then turned around, leaving the elders’ chamber. When she walked outside and closed the door behind her, the vespari saw both Autumn and Spencer waiting in the hall. Seeing her emerge, the quartermaster rolled forward.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
Wynonna smiled. “I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
“Spencer told me you were awake. I was… I was just worried.”
“I’m much better now.”
“That’s good. I’m glad.”
The two women stared at one another for a moment in silence, but that’s when Spencer stepped forward.
“Well?” he asked. “What did they say?”
“The elders?”
“Of course the elders. Did they give you another challenge?”
Wynonna shook her head. “No.”
He frowned. “Then, that’s it? It’s over?”
“Oh, no. Nicolae is still sponsoring me. They’re going to give me another challenge tomorrow.”
The librarian sighed with relief. “That’s good to hear. I was worried your fight would be the end of it.”
“One more incident, and it will be.”
“Then, you’ve got to be more careful,” Autumn told her. “Ignore them.”
Wynonna smiled at the quartermaster and nodded. “I’ll try.”
“You must be hungry,” she added. “We should get you something to eat.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Well… I thought… I mean, you shouldn’t be alone… not with what happened last time.”
“That’s good thinking,” Spencer said. “You should stay with her.”
Wynonna smiled at Autumn. “I’d like that.”
“Good,” the librarian said. “You two do that. I’ve got some work to do. If you need anything, Wynonna, just let me know.”
“I will. Thank you, Spencer.”
He nodded and began down the stairs, while Wynonna turned to Autumn.
The quartermaster said, “I suppose I will meet you down there.”
Wynonna nodded, as Autumn rolled down the hall, presumably toward the shaft with pulleys that she’d mentioned. Alone again, the vespari sighed, f
eeling exhausted by her experiences since coming to Alexandria. After a moment, she readied herself and began down the stairs.
***
Arriving downstairs at the mess hall, Wynonna found that Autumn had actually beaten her there and now waited outside for her. She smiled at the vespari with her hands folded in her lap, watching her approach. Intensely attracted to the enthusiastic, intelligent, and kindness of the quartermaster, Wynonna couldn’t help but smile at her and feel better. The pain from her wounds seemed to vanish in Autumn’s presence, and she wanted nothing more than to simply spend time with her.
“It’ll be better this time,” Autumn told her, as she approached.
“You going to protect me?” Wynonna asked with a smirk.
“Absolutely! No one will dare lay a finger on you while I’m around.”
“Good to hear.”
“Come on,” Autumn said, turning her chair and rolling into the mess hall. “Let’s see what they cooked up tonight.”
“Let’s,” Wynonna replied. “That one spoonful of soup didn’t really hit the spot.”
Walking in after Autumn, the vespari found eyes once more focusing on her. While before, their undesired attention had heavily unsettled her, in the quartermaster’s presence, she hardly even noticed them. Wynonna just walked alongside Autumn, arriving at the table where the food had been set out.
The table had more variety than it did during the lunch meal. There was mutton, though the remaining cuts left something to be desired, boiled potatoes, and a couple loafs of bread that the other vespari had already reduced to less than half their original size.
“This’ll work,” Wynonna told Autumn.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Looks good to me.”
Both women shoveled portions of the food onto their plates, and when they were ready to sit down, Wynonna took Autumn’s plate for her rather than allowing it to rattle around in her lap. They found a table unoccupied and Wynonna set both plates down across from one another. Autumn pushed the chair in her way to one side and rolled up to the table, while Wynonna sat opposite her.
As the vespari wasted no time and started to eat, Autumn was more hesitant. The quartermaster looked around the room for a moment before leaning forward.
