Chapter 33
Alex’s arrival back in Domus was met with absolute silence. As it had been so many weeks ago when he’d first been led through the city, people lined the road to watch him pass, their looks inscrutable. Alex met their stares for as long as he was able, but eventually the weight of their condemnation became too much to bear and he was forced to lower his eyes.
He didn’t blame them. How could he? The arrival of Alex and his father in the Under had heralded the beginning of the end. Simply by coming here and bringing the means by which any Nocuous could get to the surface, they had unwittingly put the entire society of Domus in jeopardy. And then, in a desperate attempt to undo the damage he’d done, Alex had promised salvation in the form of weapons, weapons that he’d failed to deliver. Not only had he failed to bring them, but had also brought along a man who might very well be more dangerous than any foe that previously existed in the Under.
Alex could not have made things any worse for the people of Domus if he’d been trying.
Tabitha remained steadfast, walking by his side with one arm locked around his waist. The two of them hadn’t spoken more than a few words, not yet. There hadn’t been time and besides, Alex was so tired he was barely able to string two coherent sentences together. In the stunned silence that had followed Silas’s flight from the Antechamber, Jonathan had been the first to regain his composure and make the decision that the Core guard would end its tour early and return to the city. Alex had been only too glad to comply.
But for the first time in the history of its people, the Core had been left unguarded—yet another thing for which the blame could be laid directly at Alex’s feet.
All these thoughts tumbled through Alex’s sleep-deprived mind as the small contingent approached Sanctuary. Winston stood on the top step, awaiting their arrival with cool, piercing eyes. Alex saw the Marshall’s gaze sweep over the group and he knew that Winston was hoping for a glimpse of the weapons he’d been promised. It only took a few moments for Winston to see that Alex had come back empty-handed. Winston made no move, he did not so much as blink, but Alex was close enough to notice the disappointed clench of Winston’s jaw just before he lifted his eyes back to face his people.
Alex stumbled, his tired legs giving way. It was too much. He should have stayed on the surface until he had what he’d gone there for. How could he have allowed Silas to return with him? Tabitha tightened her grip around his waist and kept him upright, helping to salvage what little dignity he might still possess. Behind him, the roadway had swelled with all those he’d passed, people who still hoped for their future.
Jonathan called a halt at the base of the steps and the six members of the Core guard lifted their blades in salute to Winston. Alex followed suit with the blade that Silas had given him.
Winston paused briefly, eyeing the steel blade, and then saluted back solemnly. Wordlessly, he held out a hand to Alex, palm up.
Alex swallowed back a rush of emotions; guilt, worry, fear, humility, all of it mixed in with a terrible, mind-numbing fatigue. How long had it been since he’d slept?
He squeezed Tabitha’s hand once and disengaged from her grip, swaying slightly as he was forced to find his own center of balance. Putting one foot carefully in front of the next, he climbed the steps like an old man. He knew he was tired, but he hadn’t realized how near he was to collapse, nor how heavily he must have been leaning on Tabitha.
Winston waited patiently, his hand still extended. Alex looked at it as if he didn’t understand, and really—he didn’t. He didn’t deserve to take such a great man’s hand. Did Winston even know how dreadfully he had failed in his mission? When Alex looked back up, Winston nodded once, encouragement for Alex to accept his support.
Alex lowered his eyes and reached out shamefully, feeling like a fraud as he slipped his small hand into Winston’s giant one. The big warrior shifted his stance, taking on some of Alex’s weight.
“I have you, son,” Winston spoke quietly. “You’re alright. You’re home.”
Alex blinked blearily. I have you, son?
Carefully, Winston pulled Alex to stand next to him on the top step and wrapped him in an embrace. Quietly, but with great conviction, he told Alex, “You came back. That is what matters most.”
Winston turned Alex to face the crowd.
“He has returned,” Winston’s voice boomed. “As promised, he has come to aid us in our most desperate hour!”
There was no cheering. The crowd’s only reaction was a few low murmurs and shuffled feet. Every citizen of Domus could see that Alex had indeed come back, but without the weapons he’d promised. Alex looked morosely out over the crowd, seeing in the eyes of the people gathered that they were terrified, that they’d hoped against hope for him to come back with the means to save them, but knew as surely as his hands were empty, his promises had been too.
Woozily, Alex mumbled, “I failed. I didn’t get the swords.” He blinked up at Winston. “I didn’t get the swords, Winston.”
And then the world went black.
Shimmer Page 37
