20. It’s Strange How People Can Change
DESDEMONA
There are three main stories as to how the Fire Folk gained the Flame. The most compelling one is that Zola gifted it to them when she foresaw the extinction of the Arcanes.
— WARNING: FORBIDDEN TEXT
In class, I reach for Kai’s power who, for some reason, is sitting on the sidelines. I throw up the basic shield I learned to use last week and block myself from getting electrocuted.
One of the most annoying parts of my life is my power. The only reason I even try is because I know it will help me get to my mom, which would be the saddest part of my life.
“Ms. Marquees!” Ms. Abrams’ shout echoes through the room. “You need to work on the offensive as well as the defensive.”
The class looks at me with fear-stricken eyes. It’s the only look I ever get from these kids. I pretend to be too focused on their stares to notice when Calista’s eyes light yellow in my direction. When I fly across the room and into the hard, marble wall of the school, I wish pain wasn’t always my plan B. Ms. Abrams gives me an annoyed glare, but I’m just grateful I didn’t break my spine while I hobble to Kai and curse the intense pain in my shoulder.
“You know you’ve gotta stop sucking off of me,” he says to me once I’m sitting next to him.
“Oh.” I keep my face relaxed. Of course he knows. He’s a prince, a Contarini. There’s a reason they and the Aibeks are in power—and even the septic knows it. “My apologies, I just don’t really… trust my magic.”
I expect something more, a lecture, a lesson, but Kai just smiles at me. I guess I don’t know him well. “It’s not a big deal to me.” I return his smile before he looks at Ms. Abrams. “It is for her. I’m not sure she hasn’t already put it together.”
“Really?” I say, but I don’t actually care. I only care that these kids stay afraid and away.
“Yeah. Yeah. When you use my magic, the essence that follows it is of a Light Folk. She’ll fail you for that, which means you won’t likely get any fancy government positions.”
I never thought about a fancy government position. I also never thought about failing before. That isn’t how we did school back home. You either showed up or didn’t, participated or didn’t, and in the end it never affected the jobs the Folk got. Education was a privilege, and no one got to move up in position because of how they did in school. There was no moving up in position at all, really. You either welded, mined, packed, or did your very best to survive without the keepers killing you for surviving.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I’m sure doing no magic would be worse. If not for failing, then for the target I would put on my back. “So why are you sitting out?” I ask him after some time spent in silence.
“Calista and I have an event soon,” he says bitterly.
“And only you’re sitting out?”
“She fought to participate today,” he leans into me subtly and whispers, “I think when she accidentally blew Ms. Abrams halfway across the room was when she got her way.”
“That would make sense.” I reach for the back of my neck. “It’s no fun.”
“Magic rarely is,” he says.
“Tell me about it.” I think of the dreams, the fire, the metaphorical murders, and then the ones I’ve actually committed. I want to shudder, but I don’t let myself.
Kai scoffs and cracks his knuckles—which I notice have little bolts of silverish-purple energy sparking over them.
Emotion is power, so keep your wits about you.
“It’s the betrothal,” he says abruptly. “The event I’m sitting out for.”
“Betrothal?” I ask and hope it’s not a word I should know.
“An agreement to wed, bound by our magic,” he says.
I don’t know what to think about that. Yeah, it sucks to be forced to marry someone, but am I supposed to feel pity for someone who’s about to inherit more money and power than I could ever even dream of? There’s no way.
“All I can really think to say is that I’m sorry.” I play to my strengths and give him the consolation he wants from me. “No one deserves to go through that.” I force my eyes not to roll.
“I vaguely remember us having a conversation in this vein already,” he says, his voice a little less dreary than before.
“You were pretty droozed,” I tell him. Another reminder of all the good magic does me. “But I told you I was sorry and I believe you told me that people normally say congratulations.”
“Sounds about right,” he presses his lips together, “that is what they say. Not one person has even said ‘my apologies’ and here you are using the real thing.”
“I think it warrants it.” I nod with my words, putting on a convincing show.
“The only one.”
When I walk out from the classroom I see Lucian, waiting for me, and my heart plummets. The body’s resurfaced; they’ve found it and he’s here to tell me to run, I just know it. I walk to him, keeping the panic from my face and my eyes that would otherwise be fear-stricken.
“What is it?” I ask in an urgent whisper.
“We need to talk.”
It feels like someone just took a knife to my stomach and cut until there was nothing left. I’m empty, but I could also puke.
I nod my head, keeping the muscles of my face restrained in the ways I’ve trained. “Okay.” It’s funny, my voice sounds so casual and lighthearted, but my heart is thumping in a way that could constitute death if it went just a beat faster.
Lucian begins walking, and I follow him. I think of something to say to fill this silence, but I have nothing. All I can focus on is my worry.
We get to the lake and he says, “I know where your mother is.”
I shake my head a little and try to meet his gaze, but his eyes are everywhere but on mine. I want—need—him to look at me. What does he mean he knows where my mom is?
Has something happened?
My mind races to the worst—she was kidnapped by his parents and now she’s dead. She’s dead.
She’s not dead. I choke the thought; I can’t let it grow.
“Is this some kind of a joke?” I find my voice.
“It wouldn’t be a very funny one,” he says while he looks into the iridescent water.
“Okay.” I press my lips together and keep my twisted tongue from twisting anymore. No body was found and Lucian found my mom. Is that right? “Where is she?”
He still won’t meet my eyes, even when he says, “The void.” I can’t stop the laugh from slipping out of my throat. Now he looks at me. “This isn’t funny.”
The way he’s looking at me isn’t the way I’m used to—like I’m something worth being looked at. Now he’s looking at me like I’ve done something wrong here when he’s the one playing some kind of sick joke on me, using my mom as the butt.
“You’re saying that my mom is in a world where the bad boys and girls go when they don’t follow rules. It kind of is.” The void, the Arcanes, and everything that goes with it is a story, taught to children so that they behave or else you’ll be stolen in the middle of the night, any memory of your existence taken with you.
It’s bullshit.
“It’s not a world, it’s a universe.” I’m definitely not used to this look in his eyes. He whispers, “The first time we tracked her, you almost stepped into my projection.”
Suddenly, I’m looking at him differently too. He really believes my mom is in the void. “So you’ve known where she was and have been lying to me this whole time?” I ask.
He won’t meet my eyes when he says, “Yes.”
I lose all the control over my face that has kept me protected this entire time. Every muscle drops, and suddenly tears are prickling in my eyes against my will. “What do you mean I almost stepped into your projection? Do you mean I could be there right now?”
Everything is cracking, crashing, crumbling into a million pieces.
“Your mind, possibly. Your body, probably not.”
“Then we’re doing this again, right now. I’m going to find my mom right now!” I start to tear my shirt from my body so I have something dry to get into when this is over.
Then I stop. He took me to the lake. This is what he wants.
When his mom was looking at me with murder in her eyes, he was the one who told me I’d be safe. When I killed a man with the seal of Soma, he was the one who came to my rescue.
The boy who knows too much is certainly taking claim to the weapon he’s wielded with such information.
“Okay,” he says and I step back, reaching for the dagger tucked in my waistband.
“I mean, I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me this whole time!” I continue to inch my way away from him, just far enough to give me a head start before I run back to the school. If I could just get to Aralia, or even Leiholan, then I’d have someone to hide behind.
Another step back.
“You know I trusted you, right?” I shout. “I’ve already trusted you, and now I find out you’re lying!”
Another step back.
“Marquees?” he says.
“What?”
He looks at me like I’m his prey. “I know what you’re doing.”
I stop. “What am I doing?”
“There are two ways this is going to end. You’ll run and I’ll catch you, or you’ll get in the water and do this without the needless games you’re so fond of.”
It’s all been a lie. Every glance we shared, every touch that did make me catch my breath, every word from his mouth that I believed. Every time he looked at me like I was something more than what I am.
A lie.
How can I really be surprised? His family, Kai’s family, both of them are the reason I’ve lost my family.
I have my hand on the hilt of the dagger Aralia gave me when he says, “Please don’t make this bloodier than it has to be.” He sounds actually pained. Like he’s the one seeing what I really am instead of the other way around.
I run as fast as I can. One foot in front of the other in front of the other until his hands are on my body again and I’m doing anything but catching my breath. I’m screaming.
“Get off me!”
“Please, Desdemona,” he says, and I’m cursing myself because I’ve waited so long to hear my name roll off his tongue.
But I never imagined it like this.
“Help!” I scream.
“Let me explain,” he’s saying, but I’m screaming.
“Someone help me!”
“Your mother tried to kill the Arcanes!” he says, whispering into my ear, and I grow quickly silent. “She made a weapon, and when Lorucille found out she faked her death.”
I still against him. I feel conflicted because too much of my attention is on the way his hands feel around my waist, how his chest feels against my back—the way every drop of my energy rushes to the surface just to get a glimpse of his skin on mine—instead of the very realistic explanation he’s just given me.
I gulp, loudly. “Why are you telling me now?” I ask, all while getting ready to smash my head back and hopefully break his nose.
“Because things have gotten more difficult.”
“You’ve been using me this whole time then?” I whisper, turning my head just to make out his eyes. Not that they’ll tell me anything. Apparently, he’s just as good a liar as I am.
His voice is low when he says, “Yes.”
It’s ridiculous, really, the way I feel very palpable pain in my chest.
Defeat drips from my heart and into my bloodstream. My body falls apart, and I can’t stop my muscles from momentarily failing as I fall into Lucian a little more. I close my eyes and force myself to pull me back together again. This is okay—it’s more than okay, it’s good. I found my mom. I found a reason to untangle from the prince.
I force myself out of Lucian’s grasp and turn to him, masking every bit of emotion I’m feeling. Either he’s doing the same, or he’s really feeling nothing.
“And I’m not going to like die or something if I do this?” I’m shocked and delighted at the steadiness of my voice. “I don’t think I’ll be able to swim with my shoulder.”
“I won’t let you die,” he says, almost sounding like the person I thought he was.
“And I’ll get to see my mom?” I ask.
“If all goes right, you’ll get to talk to her.” Well, that’s more than I could’ve imagined. “If you do, I need you to ask what the weapon was made to do.”
So, that’s what this is all about. “Anything else?” I ask sarcastically.
“The original power source,” he offers, and I roll my eyes. “If you find this out, we’re one step closer to taking out the creatures that have her.”
Right, the not-so-mythical Arcanes. “Fine,” I say and walk toward the lake.
But Lucian grabs my shoulder and turns me back to face him. For a moment there’s more than nothing in his eyes, then that semblance of something disappears.
“Keep your wits about you,” he says like Lucian. In the tone I’m used to.
I won’t be played again.
I jump in the water without looking at him. I don’t take my clothes off either, dry clothes be damned. I’ve already put too much skin into this game.
I watch from below the surface, and when he opens his arms just as he did the first day, I close my eyes and picture my mom. Moments later, the images become a portrait of her sitting in a dark, dirty cell, just as before.
“Mom?” I call. She looks up, directly at me, then around me. Her face is covered in dirt, bruises, and cuts. I run closer to her, but she still doesn’t see me. “Mom, I’m here.”
“Desdemona?” she whispers. “You can’t be here.”
I’m sitting in front of her, reaching for her hand. The sight of her battered makes me nauseous. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I haven’t done enough. I should’ve gotten to you sooner.”
Her voice is stern. “No. I told you, you wait for me to find you.”
“Are you in the void?” I have to know. She looks at the hand that I’m holding. “Can you feel me?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “Yes to both.”
“The Arcanes are real?” my voice cracks.
“You can’t come for me,” she says.
“Is this what we were running from?” I ask, my entire childhood flashing before my eyes. Every time we ran, leaving our entire lives behind just to do it all over again. I cough quickly, then say, “I was supposed to ask you about a weapon you made.”
She looks up fast. It’s almost like she could be looking at me. “Who’s asking?”
“The prince of Soma.”
“What does he know?” she asks softly.
“I’m not actually sure,” I say, coughing again. Mom looks away, eyebrows scrunched down, lips turned around. “Mom? What does the weapon do?”
She blinks like she is in pain. “If we had powered it properly, we predicted it would be able to shred the fabric of whatever universe we used it against.” She looks up, almost at me. So close to my eyes. “But it wasn’t, and it never will be.”
I cough again, and this time it’s hard to catch my breath. “That’s why we always ran?”
“Yes.” Her head jerks up. “Desdemona, go back. Now.”
I clutch onto her hand tighter, only to realize that I can’t feel it anymore. “I miss you,” I say. Our time is running out. “I miss you so much.”
“And I miss you,” she says. “But you can’t come looking for me.”
“Mom—”
“Promise me!”
My hand slips through hers entirely and water gurgles up my throat, dribbling out my mouth and over my chin. “Mom?” I try to say, but the words are muffled.
“Aibek!” Liquid keeps coming from my mouth, and I keep coughing until I can’t breathe and my lungs burn. “Aibek?” I try to call for him, but it sounds like I’m talking underwater.
Because I am underwater.