by HP Mallory
“Well, I think it’s a really great goal to have, but I’m just not sure how feasible it really is. Maybe, if we could get Luce and Nairn out of the picture entirely…”
“We will do that, Bryn,” Dureau said, and he believed it. I could tell by his expression. Then he smiled consolingly. “How are you, by the way? With everything I told you earlier.”
I was quiet for a few seconds as I pondered his question. How was I? I felt numb, mostly, but of course it was just a matter of time before the numbness wore off and then I wasn’t sure how I’d feel. “Honestly, Dureau, I’m shocked. I’m not even sure I’ve fully grasped it all, yet. You’re telling me that everything I know about the history of the Tribe is wrong, that I’m not even the species I thought I was, and that I was dumb enough to believe a story that now seems pretty obviously false up until seven minutes ago, when you finished telling me the truth.”
He shook his head emphatically. “I never said you were dumb.”
“I know. But I feel dumb.”
“Why?”
“Because I never should have trusted a word that came out of Luce’s mouth.”
“That’s not your fault.”
I exhaled. “True, but it’s still a lot to handle. I think I’m still pretty numb at the moment,” I admitted. “But I guess all of that will have to wait until we win this battle, right?”
There was no way I’d be worth anything in battle if I had to spend even a second dealing with the pile of feelings that was barreling towards me, instead of focusing on winning the fight. Yeah, I was shocked at this news. It would be shocking for anyone to learn that their entire heritage was a lie, but to be informed you weren’t even the species you thought you were?
Besides that, what was I even supposed to do with this information? Was I supposed to go to the Tribe members and just casually let them know that Luce had been lying to all of us all along, for centuries on end? And, supposing they even believed me, what would happen then? They’d become members of the Underworld and we’d all sit around singing “Kumbaya” in unison around a campfire?
I mean, it sounded completely preposterous. And, even if it weren’t, I wasn’t crazy about the idea. Uniting the good people of the Underworld—my sister’s people, the people that had taught me what love and friendship meant—with the Tribe members who had turned against me and violated my body and other women’s bodies over and over again, all simply because Luce said so and Luce’s word was law… No, I wasn’t sure I wanted those people to be part of my sister’s Kingdom. Of course, I felt differently about the women of the tribe—they’d been forced to become breeders, so they probably hated Luce as much as I did.
“You sure you’re good?” Dureau asked, inspecting me thoughtfully.
“Why?”
“You’re just really quiet.”
I exhaled deeply. “I just can’t seem to get past the fact that I believed Luce blindly for so many years, even after I’d defected to Kinloch Kirk. I’d just taken Luce’s word for it and believed his ludicrous story—and now, it just seems so stupidly obvious that it was a load of shit! How could I have believed that the tribe started because some humans attacked witches and vampires? How would humans ever have overpowered vampires and witches, anyway?”
“Right.”
“I could never understand that part,” I continued. “But rather than asking Luce how that was possible, I just figured it had to have happened that way. I never even questioned him!”
Dureau studied me for a moment or two. Then I heard his voice in my head.
Bryn, you can’t blame yourself for trusting Luce. You must realize that. He brainwashed you to believe whatever it was he wanted you to believe. That isn’t your fault.
I’d forgotten, briefly, that we’d learned to speak telepathically some months ago, while we’d worked on training involving the Flame. But I didn’t answer him and the intensity of his expression deepened.
“Bryn,” Dureau repeated, this time choosing to say my name out loud. He reached his hand to my chin, reminding me of the intimate moment we’d just spent kissing each other gently and softly before he’d dumped all of this information on me.
There was a gentle tugging feeling in my mind and it took me a second or so to realize it was Dureau entering my thoughts.
Look at me, he thought.
I forced my eyes up but could barely hold his. I just felt so… ashamed of my own idiocy.
“Bryn, listen to me,” Dureau said, a sense of urgency penetrating every last word. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. You spent your entire childhood and a large part of your adulthood living with the Tribe, believing everything you were taught, being indoctrinated into Luce’s lies. You were basically part of a cult.”
I felt my eyes widen. “Yeah, I basically was…”
He nodded. “In your case, you didn’t even join the cult—you never had the chance to decide for yourself. You were born into it, without any opportunity to see that there was an alternative way of life, or that what went on in the Tribe absolutely was not healthy and not normal. Tribe life was your only frame of reference. You’re not an idiot, Bryn, you’re a survivor.”
Dureau ended his feel-good talk by squeezing my arm gently.
“But—I fought for Luce. People died in those battles, Dureau,” I protested, having a difficult time finding the self-respect I needed to listen to his kind words and begin to forgive myself.
“It doesn’t matter,” he insisted. “You’re a smart, kind person, and your actions over the past few years prove that beyond all doubt. As soon as you learned the error of your ways, and as soon as you had the opportunity to do better once you knew better, you did.”
“Thank you,” I responded in a small voice.
We were both quiet for a few seconds as we stood there. He smiled down at me, but it was a sad smile—or maybe more consoling? I wasn’t sure what to make of it, I just knew it made me uncomfortable.
“So, what now? Now that I know all of this, what do we do?” I asked. “Does this change our approach to the coming war?”
“I don’t know—” he started.
“Neither do I,” I interrupted. “Yes, my former tribesmen acted according to Luce’s will, but it doesn’t change the fact that what they did to Rachel, to Dayna, to me, and what they’re continuing to do to all those women is wrong.”
Dureau leaned forward and wrapped me in his strong arms, and I didn’t pull away. I just stood there and let him hold me. I didn’t know why it was happening now, but tears began to well up in my eyes and I dropped my head so I could bat them away without Dureau noticing. But, of course, he did. With his fingers, he tipped my chin up, and gently smiled down at me.
“It’s okay to cry, Bryn,” he told me softly.
I took a deep breath and the tears broke through, pouring down my cheeks in a hot stream. “I just,” I started, then paused. “I just can’t believe I’m actually considering this,” I whispered.
“Considering what?”
“Even the thought of allowing any male member of Luce’s tribe to become part of the Underworld…” I explained. “It’s not easy to even think about.”
“So we don’t let them in.”
“But, I thought? Didn’t you say it was your dream to unite Luce’s people and ours?”
Dureau nodded. “Yes, to a point. I agree with you that violent men shouldn’t be among those we’d consider.” He smiled more broadly and pulled me closer to his chest. “This is just a conversation anyway, Bryn. We haven’t made any decisions, and we aren’t even sure that Jolie and the panel would agree.”
Tears flowed down my face as I realized how horrible it would be to have to serve as Princess over new members of the Underworld court who had once been members of the Tribe, members who had abandoned me to my gruesome fate and done nothing because Luce had mandated it so.
“Dureau,” I said, voice trembling as I continued to battle my inner demons, “I think the rest of the Tribe needs
to know the truth about Luce.” I realized my entire body was shaking as fast as my voice trembled. “No matter what they did, they deserve the right to know that what they did, and what they’re doing, is wrong.” I took a breath. “The only way they will ever be able to make their own decisions is if they know the truth.” My voice broke, as I was once again overcome with emotion.
“What are you saying?” Dureau asked, eying me carefully.
“We won’t be able to truly judge any of the Tribe members as individuals until we give them the opportunity to build their own value system and make their own choices, because that’s the only way we can really evaluate who any of the individual Tribe members are as people, on their own merits.” I was quiet as I processed what I was saying—that I felt my former Tribespeople needed to be given a chance. “I had that opportunity, I suppose. And they deserve it, too.”
“Bryn, this is all just talk right now.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t become more,” I argued. “Every movement started as just talk.”
He nodded and was quiet for a few seconds. “I can’t even comprehend how we would inform Luce’s people of the truth, or if they’d even be willing to listen.”
“We can only try, right?” I fell silent as my mind raced. “Luce gets his power from the willingness of the Tribe, as a whole, to follow him without question. He benefits from the soldiers who serve him blindly. Luce wouldn’t be half as powerful without their unconditional support. They have made him this strong—and they still do.”
Dureau nodded and immediately understood the direction in which my argument was headed. “And so we cut off Luce’s source of power by removing any motivation for the Tribe members to follow him,” he nearly whispered, obviously considering the logistics of such an endeavor.
“Yes,” I whispered as I pulled away from him and shivered in spite of myself. “The key to dissolving the tribe’s motivation to follow Luce is in explaining to them the truth behind their beginnings, revealing Luce as a power-hungry, failed insurrectionist.”
Destroying the loyalty of the Tribe was our best chance at a military victory against Luce in the upcoming war—and the best way to destroy that loyalty was by ripping the foundation out from underneath it. And that foundation was built on a story that was nothing more than a lie. Maybe, if Elementals and Daywalkers understood that they were brothers and sisters to vampires and witches, it would change their perspective.
“You know, this is going to be dangerous,” Dureau warned, shoving his hands deeply into the pockets of his brown bomber jacket.
“I know,” I replied stoically.
Dureau turned to face me. “I think you’re right—we need to somehow make Luce’s people understand the truth about him, no matter how dangerous that errand is,” he finished, reaching out to clutch my hands.
The significance of this moment weighed heavily on my shoulders—so much had changed in the last few hours.
Chapter Fifteen
Bryn
Dureau and I walked back to Kinloch Kirk far past sunset and well into the beginning of the evening. Dinner was over, but the kitchen staff would be willing to make me something if I asked. Though I probably wouldn’t—I’d just make myself a peanut butter sandwich, instead.
I ran through the long hallway to the base of the stairs and took them two at a time, heading for Jolie’s bedroom. It was late enough that I figured she’d retired for the night. I jogged down the hall and then knocked on the door.
Not getting an immediate answer, I knocked again. Harder this time.
“What is it?” Jolie asked as she opened the door.
“Sorry to bother you,” I started. “I know it’s late.”
“Bryn? What’s going on?” she continued, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind her. “Rand is asleep with the baby.”
“I’m sorry for bothering you so late,” I repeated. “We can talk about this later if—”
“What’s going on?” Jolie asked again, firmly but with compassion.
“I have… news,” I told her.
“Okay, let’s talk in the sitting room,” invited Jolie as she started down the hallway and I followed behind her. She led me into her sitting room, and I remembered seeing her in here a few times before. She liked to sit in one of the huge floral chairs on either side of the bay window while she practiced her knitting. I promptly sat down at her request and noticed it was already ten p.m., according to the clock on the wall. I hadn’t realized it was so late.
I took a deep breath. “Dureau revealed something to me earlier—something that’s going to have an impact on the way we think about Luce’s Tribe.”
“What did he tell you?” Jolie asked as she sat down beside me and picked up her needles. I loved watching her knit, because it soothed my usually congested mind. Tonight was no different. I focused on the task at hand and released the deep breath I’d taken a second earlier. Then, I started to speak slowly, forcing myself to enunciate. Jolie needed to hear this and we didn’t have time to waste with my bad habit of nervous rambling.
“Luce has been lying about the origin of the Tribe for years, Jolie.”
“The origin of the Tribe?” she parroted, frowning and looking up at me.
“The story he told all of us about where Elementals and Daywalkers came from.”
Her frown deepened. “The massacre, you mean?”
“Apparently, you were brought up to believe the same thing.”
“That’s not true?”
“No. Not according to Dureau.” I scratched my head. “But then, I’m not sure how it was that you were made to believe it was the truth, as well.”
She shrugged. “Lies have a way of spreading near and far, and if no one was ever there to challenge Luce’s lies, then I guess it makes sense that they would have spread. Even to us.”
I nodded, figuring it was the only answer that made any sort of logical sense. Then I told Jolie the truth about what really happened and how Luce came to find himself in power.
“According to Dureau, everything Luce said about how the tribe came to be is a complete lie. But, of course, all the Tribe members believe Luce. They believe that Elementals and Daywalkers are different creatures to vampires and witches. They don’t think we share the same DNA, but we do. Yes, we each have different abilities, but that’s just because Luce decided to breed them in or out accordingly.”
“Wow, I always believed we were so different,” Jolie said as she shook her head.
“If the Tribespeople knew the truth—that Luce wasn’t the start of a new race of magic, and that he just hungered for power and was using them to get that power—I wonder how that would change their loyalty?” I asked, impressed with myself for managing to deliver this information without becoming visibly emotional.
“I wonder if it would change them at all,” my sister responded, somewhat nervously. “His people have been so brainwashed by him.”
“Yes, but don’t you think they deserve to know the truth?”
She cocked her head to the side and seemed to be considering my question.
“We’re all the same species, with the same DNA,” I continued. “The idea that Tribe members are a separate species than the rest of the world’s witches and vampires… it’s just a lie Luce told to stop them from thinking they had anything in common with us! But imagine if they knew the truth? Maybe, if they understood that we are one and the same, they wouldn’t be so intent to kill us.”
“Well, are we really one and the same now, though?” Jolie asked with a shrug as she continued to work on whatever it was she was knitting. It looked like a sweater for Emma. “All these hybrids—” she started, but I cut her off.
“Are just hybrids between weres and Elementals and fae and Daywalkers. It would be the same if Dayna married Dureau and had children!” I said, then immediately disliked the words coming out of my mouth because the picture of Dayna and Dureau left me cold. And that was something I didn’t wan
t to ponder, so I left it alone.
Jolie was quiet for a while.
“This changes everything we thought we knew about the members of the Tribe who serve Luce, their so-called Supreme Leader,” I pointed out. “If Luce lied to his members to provide these people with an entirely false worldview, I’m not sure if we can blame them for following him without question.” I cleared my throat. “Well, the women, anyway,” I clarified, still disgusted at the very idea that I might have to find it within me to to forgive the men for what they’d done.
Jolie nodded. “The male members of the Tribe did and are doing unspeakable things,” she nearly whispered.
“I’m well aware, but…”
“But?”
I nodded and took a deep breath, which I exhaled just as deeply. “But I don’t know how guilty or culpable each person is. Yes, there are those who no doubt enjoyed what they were doing, but I remember the Tribe well enough to know that not all of the men in it were rotten. Some of them were gentle, and some of them were forced into situations they never would have willingly entered.”
“Are you saying you think some of them deserve to be forgiven?” Jolie asked, putting her knitting down and fixing me with wide eyes.
“Maybe.” I sighed heavily. “There are two parts to this.”
“What do you mean?”
“First, if we were able to enlighten the Tribespeople, maybe they would stage a mutiny and it would be that much easier to take Luce down. If they know he’s been lying to them all along, it might make them less inclined to want to fight and die for him?”
“Maybe,” Jolie agreed cautiously. “And the second part?”
“The second part is that we’re facing a moral quandary.”
“A moral quandary?”
I nodded. “I talked about this at length with Dureau, and we both feel that if the people we thought were Elementals and Daywalkers are actually witches and vampires, then they are the same as you and me. And that would mean they have a right to become members of the Underworld court,” I finished.
