42. Doing What You Have To Isn’t Easy
DESDEMONA
Soma is the world with the fewest casualties and deaths of civilians, losing only 10,000 of their population of 300,000. In the few remaining tomes, we can see that the reason they came out nearly unscathed is because of the hands-off policy they adopted; the enemy didn’t attack, and they didn’t protect.
— THE TRUTH OF THE ARCANIAN WAR (UNPUBLISHED)
Lucian pulls my corset back over my chest—as if it will stay without being tied—and has his shirt in his hand at once when he whispers, “The window!”
Holding the top of my dress to me, I run for it, prying it open while soldiers rush into the room.
And I’m out of throwing knives.
It really ain’t over til the bones turn to ash. I scale my way down the building, desperately trying not to look down. It’s already hard enough with my dress half on and half in my hands. I look ahead of me, waiting for Lucian to come out, and when he does, he’s holding another coat.
No doubt for me, but it’s only going to slow him down. I’m about to tell him to discard it when he shouts, “Go!”
I descend faster, and when I’m a few feet from the floor, I jump, the thick, cold snow breaking my fall. Lucian jumps down next to me, grabs my free hand, and runs.
Tripping in the snow and unable to hold up my dress, I pull my hand from Lucian’s and pull the dress over my head, holding it under my arm as we run. I focus on the heat from the adrenaline and not the chilling cold of the snow as it falls on my bare shoulders.
I trip again, this time falling to my knees, and Lucian drops to me, urging me to get up, but my eyes are dead set on the soldiers. My mind dead set on the fire in my lungs as it travels out of me, onto the snow, and straight for them.
A rush like no other. It may be sinister to laugh, but I can’t stop it when I see the faces of the soldiers as they realize they won’t be taking my life. Not today.
Not tomorrow.
The fire spreads in front of them like a wall, and their shadows wrap around my flame, trying to subdue it. But it’s useless.
My power is inescapable.
I get to my feet; white-hot fire flows in place of my blood, and I run again, the remnants of my power keeping me going. The chilling snow is no longer cold at all.
We make it to where we portaled in from and I step into my dress. Without a word, Lucian steps behind me, tying the corset. Then I feel the tugging of my hair.
“Are you braiding my hair?” I ask, but I’d know this feeling anywhere, from the number of times my mom has done the same.
“Why?” he whispers. “Does that surprise you?”
I’m silent for a moment. “Yeah.”
“Well,” he says, pulling the braid over my shoulder. “It’s not very good, but seeing as I ruined your last one, I felt I owed it to you.”
When he’s in front of me again, I say, “Is that why you tied my corset too?”
He shrugs with a smile like we have all the time in the worlds. “I did untie it.”
Heat rushes my cheeks, and I can’t imagine he can see the redness in the dim light, but even after having his lips on my body, I still don’t want to risk it.
“To Lorucille?” I ask.
His face falls. “No. I have to go back to Visnatus. Lilac’s still there.”
So, this is where we part.
“Then I have to tell you something.” I didn’t want to tell anyone. Didn’t want them to be able to chalk it up to me murdering four people. But someone other than me needs to know. “Arcanes attacked me the night that Leiholan lost his leg.”
He steps back, his eyes going wide while he stares at me, and I fight the urge to cover my face.
“What?” I whisper.
“That’s why the corenths were attacking,” he says in a hushed tone. “They were breaking the wards for the Arcanes.”
The pieces put themselves in place.
“You think they’re going to attack the school?” I ask.
“Entirely,” he says.
“But why would they?” I just want to go home. And they want me, if the thing that Eleanora became was right. If my eyes are any consolation. “Like, what good would it do them anyway?”
“Good?”Lucian looks appalled. “These things aren’t good. Their actions don’t have to benefit them if they destroy us. That’s all they want. They’re harbingers of chaos.”
Funny, that’s exactly how I described myself to Leiholan after I killed Breck.
I step back, and the action doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “Whatever you choose,” he taps his temple, “I’m with you here.”
Looking at the ground, I say, “You know.”
“You’re going home,” he says.
“Yes.”
“We do what we have to do, even when it’s hard.” He pulls something from his pocket. Something silver and small—the thing I asked him about the night we drank and danced. He picks up my hand, and the small gesture sends my head up and my gaze to his. The chill from whatever he puts in my palm cuts through the fire in my blood.
“I’ll find you when this is over,” he whispers, his breath uneven. “I swear it.”
I nod, trying to find something to say and coming up utterly dry.
“Until then, keep your wits about you, Marquees.”
He lifts my hand to his mouth, kissing it once, and he doesn’t say another word when he turns and opens a portal.
Then he’s gone and I’m left staring at my open hand and a little silver wolf.
I open my portal home too.
My legs take me running to Damien’s house without my brain giving it a second thought. Pounding at his door, my heart races with excitement. I’m home. I got my life back. These last four months can be forgotten, and I can just be me again.
The me without Lucian, Leiholan, and even Aralia.
Suddenly, I’m not entirely sure what that looks like.
But when I see Damien, all that goes away. He opens the door and looks at me like I’m a ghost. Then his arms wrap around me and he lifts me off the ground, whirling us around. He sets me down, and when he meets my eyes, his are stricken by fear.
“What? What is it?” I ask in a rush.
He backs away and I take steps forward, following him. He falls, still trying to crawl backward. “Mom! They’re back!”
Elliae and Janice come to the door, standing behind him with their eyes on me. Elliae drops to her knees, clawing at Damien’s shirt, trying to pull him inside.
This is about my eyes.
“No, I’m—I’m not one of them, I swear,” I try to explain. “What do you mean, they’re back?”
Once Damien is beyond the barrier of the door, it slams in my face. They can’t seriously think this would keep an Arcane out.
That it would keep me out. I knock on the door again. “Please, Damien. Just talk to me. Elliae! I’m not an Arcane, I swear.” Knocking turns to pounding and pounding turns to pleading. “Do you know how hard I’ve fought to see you guys again? Please, just talk to me!”
This is everything I’ve wanted.
My back collapses against the door and my hands drag through my hair. Tears fall from my eyes and snot fills my nose.
“Please,” I whine. “You’re all I have left,” I cry. “My mom’s probably dead, and she never even cared about me. You guys are all I have. Please.”
Please, please, please.