True Storm

by L. E. Sterling

  Not that it saved them.

  “So where are we?”

  Jared doesn’t answer, just holds a finger to his lips and peers around a corner. I watch his reflection through a dusty mirror hanging on the hallway wall opposite the door, a large gilt-framed affair that reminds me of my old home. Who were they, the family who once lived here? Were they like us?

  But as I peer around, I reckon they were a regular family living a happy, regular life until the Plague hit. A tidy wooden piano perches in one corner, hooded with dust. A red-striped rug covers the floor, inviting bare feet, and next to it, a sofa that looks warm and inviting. The curtains are drawn, keeping out most of the light, but here and there a finger pokes through, casting the living room in a nostalgic air, as though all its inhabitants are just a hairsbreadth away.

  By the time Jared has scouted the small house, I’ve gotten acquainted with the photos on the wall—a smiling gray-haired couple and three adorable bronze-skinned children missing teeth—and rifled through a menagerie of animal knickknacks. There are pouncing leopards; a long-legged ostrich, its neck comically bent; a lion with a huge mane; a doe-eyed deer; a seagull; a huge, ugly frog.

  One in particular catches my attention: sitting high up on a glass-and-metal shelf gone white with dust is a hand-size golden elephant. I pick it up and nearly drop it. It’s much heavier than I’d imagined. But its golden skin shines in the light, its body sleek and cool in my hands. The elephant has a trunk raised in perpetual greeting, its tiny tail swishing. It has weight and substance and magic. Like Storm. Like the True Borns, I think to myself as a smiling Jared Prince saunters up to me.

  “You find some treasure, Lu?” Jared teases. His nose crinkles delightfully.

  I give the True Born a measured look, wanting him to see my double meaning. “Yes.”

  It isn’t until the word is out and I wish I could take it back that I realize it is also true. What would I have done without them? Without Storm’s support? Without Jared’s warmth—and for a second it’s as though the room spins as I contemplate how close I have been to shutting down my heart entirely.

  And how much I owe Storm, a small voice reminds me. It niggles at me, the thought that I am beholden to my guardian. I need to take his suit seriously, and not just for that reason. If Storm and I make an alliance, we have a shot at building a council, with True Borns and Lasters at the table. At the very least, the Splicers would have to listen politely. It’s worth contemplating. It’s the kind of match our parents might have made for me as the axis of power shifts.

  But there’s the blond-haired True Born before me to think about, too.

  “Jared, I—”

  But Jared covers my lips with his fingers. “You know what, Princess? Let’s not do that right now. Let’s just enjoy the relative peace for a few hours, okay?” He doesn’t seem angry or even tense. Just watchful. My heart clenches like a fist.

  Hands in the pockets of his dress pants, the man I’d once thought of as careless studies me from beneath a flip of hair. Then, quick as lightning, he brings his lips down for a short, hard kiss. His hand grabs my shoulder in a light, impersonal squeeze before he releases it.

  “Why don’t we forage for something to eat? I hate cranky princesses.”

  “Okay,” I toss back breezily, though inwardly I’m shaky and bruised.

  As Jared leads the way to the small kitchen, tossing over his shoulder a measured grin, my sinking gut makes it clear that somehow something has shifted between us. And that maybe, just maybe, I’ve messed things up beyond comprehension.

  …

  We’ve whiled away more than a dozen hours when a fist raps on the front door. It’s a driving, staccato rhythm that pulls me out of a doze where I’ve curled up on the couch.

  Jared gets to the living room in seconds. He swears lightly under his breath.

  “What is it?” I hate the shakiness in my voice as I call out. Worse is the liquid weakness filling my limbs as I lift a hand to my hot forehead and watch the room briefly spin.

  Jared just closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, which is thickening with an unexpected change. Can it be that bad?

  But then the knocking comes again, more insistent. Then two sets of hands: one lighter, the other heavier, muffled, accompanied by the low, full sound of a woman’s voice. “I know you’re in there,” it calls in a singsong voice.

  Then a heavy voice, raspy with smoke, sounds. “You gonna make us wait outside here all day?”

  How did they find us? I mouth at Jared, who frowns as though he’d like to eat the people at the door.

  I reckon I don’t blame him.

  “I see you.” The high-pitched woman’s voice comes through the door. “C’mon, Lu, Jared. We have a lot to talk about. I promise we’re alone and we weren’t followed.”

  Jared rushes to the back windows, obvious relief etched on his face. Then they’re telling the truth. Soldiers don’t surround us. Yet.

  But we’d be fools to trust the people at the door. Because these visitors aren’t just anyone—they’re traitors. It’s Serena and Carl.

  26

  “Well? We’re going to attract attention standing out here.”

  “Let us in, True Born.” Carl’s deep voice vibrates the heavy wood of the door.

  Jared freezes, turning to look at me. A hundred expressions float across his face. Anger, a burning desire to rip them to shreds, a ghost of regret, and an expression I’d as soon call helpless. He doesn’t know whether to let them in, I realize.

  But if there’s one thing I’ve learned being the daughter of Lukas and Antonia Fox, it’s how to receive visitors. I slip my feet onto the floor, toes together, straighten, and pull back my shoulders. The rat’s nest of my hair I smooth down with my fingers, rub at my eyes, and pinch my cheeks and lips to give me color—a trick Margot and I learned from the girls at school. I straighten the skirt of my mourning dress, wrinkled beyond recognition at this point. Never mind, I tell myself, looking up in time to catch Jared, with a shock of blond falling artlessly over one eye, staring at me in amusement.

  I grace him with my blandest, most ice-princess expression. “Please let them in.”

  Silence stretches out between us for a moment as he considers whether I’ve lost my mind. Then, finally, Jared reaches over to kiss the top of my hair.

  “Your wish is my command, your imperious pain in the ass.”

  Outside, Carl’s low, ticking chuckle fills the air. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as Jared saunters over to slowly, carefully, open the door.

  “Finally,” Serena says as she wipes her perfect pale forehead and steps into the small house. “I thought we were going to have to resort to show tunes.”

  “And you’re tone deaf,” Carl tosses out, chucking the butt of a cigar onto the weedy sidewalk outside. “That would be painful for everyone.”

  “Says the cat who thinks yowling is an art form.” Serena halts just inside the small foyer. Carl comes up behind her and discreetly arranges her hand above his elbow, then guides her to the large black chair beside the couch. She sinks gratefully into its deep pocket, sighing, and gets comfortable. Carl leans on his elbow to stretch across its back.

  “Nice place you’ve got here,” Serena says breezily.

  Jared looks fit to explode, so I cut in with a noisy clearing of my throat. “To what do we owe this…unexpected visit, Serena?”

  I’m not certain how I think she’ll reply , but it isn’t to throw her head back and laugh, long and loud. Even Carl can’t help but be moved by its infectiousness. He makes a ticking purr of a sound deep in the back of his throat.

  “I beg your pardon.” My words are ice. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your amusement.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I just— It’s amazing,” she tells me, wiping tears from her eyes.

  I bite out my words. “What is amazing?”

  She meets my gaze with her unearthly one, all hint of humor evaporated. “How utterly ignorant
you are.”

  I’m stunned to silence, while Jared, who’d been leaning against the door as though he hadn’t a care in the world, bares his teeth and steps forward.

  “Jared.” I say his name under my breath, certain he can hear the panic in its tone. I don’t want a bloodbath in such close quarters.

  Serena wears the same black leather pants as earlier, in the scrum, but she’s dressed now in a black halter top. A bruise slides along one shoulder. Her right cheek is decorated with a red welt. I decide to change tacks.

  “They hurt you?”

  Serena makes a dismissive noise. Her hair falls along her back like a white curtain. Carl’s claws flex almost by instinct on the upholstery. “They wish.”

  “But you’re bruised.”

  She puts a light hand to her face. “Oh, this? They got lucky. It won’t happen again,” she says as Carl touches his bullet belt.

  “If I’m so ignorant, perhaps you would be so kind as to enlighten me.”

  Serena focuses on a spot at my neck. I don’t like her concentrated attention on the flow of my blood.

  “It’s happened,” she whispers. Reaching out for Carl’s paw excitedly, Serena sits forward to examine me more closely.

  “What’s happened? What are you talking about?”

  “The miracle we’ve been waiting for.”

  “Serena,” Jared breaks in, “you’ve got about ten seconds to explain before I lose my patience and toss you both out of here.”

  Carl snorts and scratches at his neck. “You wish.”

  Jared’s eyes flash. The air grows heavy with the scent of bloodlust. I jump up and wedge my body between them as Carl paces a step forward.

  “Not here. There’s been enough bloodshed today. We’re calling this neutral territory. Okay?” I turn around to face Jared, then Carl. “Okay?”

  Carl hisses but steps back. Serena drawls, “Sit down, Carl, would you? You’re blocking my view.” She raises her arms in a feline stretch as she yawns, a bored expression on her face. “Listen, it’s been a long, long couple of days and we have a lot of material to get through and not much time to do so. So why don’t you get your pretty-boy butt into the kitchen, Jared, and make us all some coffee, and we can get to it. Hmm?”

  …

  An hour later, coffee mugs litter the small glass-topped side tables. An empty pot leaves brown lunar rings across its surface. Carl licks at his paw and scowls as I pull up my feet and hug my knees to my chest. Jared leans back and puts his arm around me. His warmth seeps in, taking the chill from my bones, just as we hear a copter’s roar rip over the house. It’s close enough to make me flinch.

  Sweat pools on my lower back and under my arms from all the coffee. My heart has gone jittery, my mouth dry. And a raging tide of panic threatens to drown me. I fist my hands in my lap and stare at them, wishing I could undo what I’ve heard.

  Because, in the space of an hour, my worldview has been shattered.

  All this time. All this time, and I never suspected that the Salvagers were different for a reason. They used to talk about people like Serena, the Salvagers whose special gift it is to sniff out other True Borns. A senator friend of our father’s had once famously suggested putting a Salvager or two on payroll. Keep a bird in hand so we know how many are in the bushes, as one laughingly said.

  But I’ve never heard of one, not on payroll, not anywhere, who would work for the Upper Circle. Now I know why. Because the Salvagers are followers of Cernunnos, the Horned One. They’re the Order’s holy people.

  And their one occupation?

  To find me. To find Margot and me.

  And to read what is written in our mingled blood. If Serena’s right.

  …

  “There’s a name for you.” Serena had traced the scar across my neck. “Salvagers call you aingeal. It’s our story, the tale of our people, told through centuries and passed down from generation to generation. The one,” she told me happily, “we have been waiting for. Aingeal: the memory of the gods.

  “You know what DNA really is, Lucy? It’s a memory chip of eons past, switching things on and off like a computer program.”

  “What about our DNA? Doc Raines says it doesn’t act human. More like nanotech.”

  “That’s because it’s not fully human. What I read in you… What I see in you…” Serena looked over my limbs as though they were word-filled pages. She lifted a long, slim hand to trace down my cheek. “It’s the most awful thing, losing your sister. But she lives on in you. That day…” I almost don’t hear Serena’s next words through the pounding of blood in my ears. I can’t even think about that moment, when the knife came down. “Her blood mixed with yours. And the truth was revealed.”

  “What truth is that, Serena?”

  “You are Cernunnos’s child.”

  Jared jumped in. “Now hold on. Lucy doesn’t need more of your tall tales.”

  But the sightless woman just shook her head. “It’s true. I know it sounds fantastic—” Jared snorts. Ignoring him, Serena continues. “I know it sounds crazy.”

  Wanting nothing more than to hide, I pulled myself as far back onto the couch as I could. “How do you know I am…what you think I am?” I rasped.

  She looked me over, her eyes flitting across my neck. “How do I know? Because I see it. It’s there in your veins. Like sap in a tree. It’s rising. It’s changing.”

  “You think somehow my father and his partners got ahold of your god’s DNA and Spliced us with it.” It’s not a question. And Serena doesn’t seem to take it as one.

  The pretty young Salvager turned and faced the window. “The DNA was separated. And a strand was put in each of you girls. You reassembled the strands. The DNA was made right again. It brings back what we lost so long ago.”

  Two circles, conjoined. Margot and me. Sisters of two bloods.

  My head reeled as I considered the implications. “How could something like that even happen? It sounds like a fairy tale.”

  Serena shrugged. She reached out a hand again and traced the scar across my neck. Her touch burned like cold fire. “Was her blood on the blade that bit your neck?”

  …

  “I don’t know if I can believe any of this,” I tell her now as I turn my attention to the Salvager and her sidekick. Carl picks at a matted clump of fur on his belly. Serena taps her long, thin fingers on the armrest of her chair.

  “Can’t blame you. But there it is.” Her fingers turn over, empty, as though proof of her honesty.

  “But what for? What’s it good for?”

  “Don’t you see?” White-blond hair floats around Serena’s face, making her seem like a young girl. “If Cernunnos’s people come back, then we’ll all be free.”

  “But aren’t Cernunnos’s people the True Borns? They are back. So why does everybody need my blood?”

  “You still don’t understand.”

  Our conversation is cut short as the air becomes charged. Jared and Carl jump up. Jared rushes to the back of the house where the kitchen windows look out onto a weedy backyard. Carl pounces over to the front, his tail twitching furiously.

  “What is it?” I croak.

  They say nothing. Serena strains as she glances blindly around the room.

  “They hear something.” She shakes her blond mane. “We thought we weren’t followed, but it’s probably best if we go now.”

  I grab her thin wrist just as she’s rising. “No! There’s more I need to know.”

  “You’re right.” Serena squeezes my hand and looks to Jared and Carl. “Lucy needs to know what she’s capable of.”

  “And yet I’m wondering why I should trust anything you’ve said. You were with them.” I nod my head to the door, in the direction of where I expect soldiers and Senator Nash to appear at any second.

  Serena takes up both my hands in hers. “Listen closely, Lucy. You and your sister were sown with Cernunnos’s seed. Do you understand what that means? You were both made perfect but incomplete. But when
the two lines, born together, rejoin… My mother said a new race would be born. The strong children of Cernunnos, children from the ancient times. And then we’d all be free.” Her white eyes gleam with the light of the fervent. Just like the preacher men, I think cynically. I try to ignore the twinge of my conscience reminding me that, until today, I thought of Serena as a friend.

  “But you betrayed us,” I admit, confused. “And you betrayed the True Borns.”

  “No.” Serena shakes her beautiful head just as Carl does a little jump. “It was necessary to make them believe we were helping them.”

  The orange cat man leans his head back to regard us. “We got some people at the gate. Time to skedaddle.”

  “You were with them,” I hiss, ignoring Carl’s warning. “You helped them. They’ve outlawed the True Borns.”

  Serena turns her unerring eyes on me, a tendril of a smile blooming on her beautiful face. She holds a soft hand to my cheek. “You’ll see. There really are no sides to choose. This is just one piece moving across a vast game board. And everything, everything, sweet Lucy, is accomplishing the will of Cernunnos.”

  “What are you taking about? How could any of this—”

  Before I can get my answers, Serena is up and moving toward the front door. Carl is already there, throat rumbling, as something hard taps on the front door. A gun, my mind supplies.

  Then Jared is there, hauling me to my feet with burning eyes. He nods slightly to Carl, who nods back. Jared leads me to the back door and we’re out, pushing our bodies through head-high weeds that tug and grab at us. Out front are raised voices, shouting. A burst of gunfire sounds like the staccato beat of a drum. And then, above the fray, Carl’s high-pitched yowl.

  “RUN!”

  27

  We run like our hair is on fire through the wreckage of Dominion’s tin-can neighborhoods. Block after block blurs by before Jared lets us slow to a fast walk. It’s early enough still that there aren’t many Lasters on the streets, save a few pushing carts or those handful of humped bodies, wrapped in blankets. Finally we get off the sidewalks and streets. Threading me through a small apartment complex as he surveys dilapidated balconies piled high with junk, Jared just stops and tucks me against a wall so I’m not exposed.