44. An Ode To You
DESDEMONA
Ihave nothing. I have Lucian.
I always had nothing. I never had Lucian.
Did he ever know me? Did Damien? Did anyone?
I thought I knew what it was to have nothing. But I think I was wrong. Because realizing that no one, in any world, knows who you are makes you question if even you do.
If knowledge is a weapon, then people knowing you is one too. But if I’m left in just as much pain as if I’d given someone the knife, what does that mean?
No one stabbed me in the back, but I stabbed myself, at least in the foot.
I’m alone by my own doing. I pushed everyone away because of my mom’s words. The words of a woman who never loved me. Was it deliberate sabotage? Or is she just as screwed up as I’ve become?
“Damien,” I cry again, with another weak-hearted knock.
“Girl,” someone calls. “What are you doing out here past curfew?”
Curfew?I turn to the voice, a keeper. I can’t help but think of Leiholan’s words when I see his eyes. With that Nepenthe in mind, it’s hard to hate this one.
“Family fight,” I mumble. If there’s a curfew in place, what do the homeless do? I try to think of my run here, and I can’t remember seeing anyone out. Standing up, I look at the door solemnly. Am I just giving up this easily? “I was just leaving.”
He pulls a long piece of metal from his belt. “What’s your name?”
“Catarina.” He steps closer again and then stops in his tracks before backing up. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I say, following after him. “Just… what have the Arcanes been doing here?” He’s turning away from me, and I take the last step between us, closing my hand around his wrist. “Don’t. Run.”
He lets out a small groan, and I let go, seeing a red mark the size of my hand. I think I burnt him. “Please. What’s happening?” I ask.
He practically wheezes when he says, “They’ve been rummaging the area. Looking for a Desdemona.”
“How long?”
Groaning again, he says, “A few months, maybe. They stopped not that long ago.”
“Thank you,” I push the words out. “The woman who lives here can help with the burn.” Then I run.
I remember being in such a similar position four months ago. Running from Damien’s house and knowing that I have to go while not wanting to. They’re looking for me, undoubtedly. Any hope that Eleanora was wrong is gone.
Can I stop them? I don’t know, probably not. But I think of Leiholan lying hopelessly in the hospital without his leg. Aralia, smoking a joint unknowingly when some red-eyed Folk comes into the room looking for me.
And Lucian going back, knowing what he faces and choosing to face it anyway.
For me, the truth is different. I have two options: stay here, or go back and fight. But there’s nothing for me here anymore. So when I make it to the portal, I make the same decision I made months ago.
I go back, heading first for Lucian’s suite but stopping when I see a body on the floor covered by his jacket. Walking over and kneeling down, I pull the jacket back and see Wendy.
What number is she?
She doesn’t breathe, but there’s no sign of grave injury so I lean down, put my lips on hers, and try to breathe life into her. Then I press her chest.
Seventeen times before she sits up, gulping for the air that she’s lost. She holds onto her throat while she wheezes and something wet trickles down the side of my neck. When I pull my fingers away, they come back black.
“What did you do?” Wendy asks weakly.
“Saved your life,” I say, a little annoyed at the instant accusation. She scoots away from me without taking her eyes off mine.
Great, this again.
I grab Lucian’s jacket and wipe away the liquid coming from my ear, and then I look at Wendy. “I’m gonna find Lucian, you can come or you can mope. Your choice.”
I stand, and Wendy does too. She follows after me, limping, and I put my arm around her torso and half-carry her. “Thank you,” she mumbles, touching her forehead.
I push open the door to Lucian’s suite and call his name, but it’s Kai who appears. “Where’s Lucian?”
“You’re one of them,” he says. I’m getting really tired of people taking steps away from me, as if that would save them.
“Great, so you chose the nonhelpful option. Thanks.” I slam the door behind me when I leave.
“Calista can find him,” Wendy says, putting what must be more than half her weight in my hands.
“Calista?”
“They’re betrothed. They share a little of the other’s power.”
Right. Lucian is quite literally magically promised to another, and there I was kissing him and thinking he could be mine. “That’s good.”
“She should be in our suite.”
“That’s good.” We walk in relative silence, and I make a mental list of the weapons I’ll gather. I could grab my spatha sword, but it’d be easier to carry a few throwing knives. There are only two of the ones Leiholan gave me left in the suite. “So why weren’t you afraid of my eyes?”
Compared to the boy who’s known me for years, this reaction from a girl who hasn’t is discomforting.
She takes a while to say, “Calista and I stole your necklace.” White-hot fury rises in me. “We thought we could get ahead of the prophecy.”
Time fractures with the stone.
“Really?” I try to keep the anger from my voice, and I fail. “Cause it seems like you just made it happen. And I don’t see what this has to do with my eyes.”
“Your memories were inside it,” she says softly, like a confession. I’m ready to throw her on the ground and leave her there. What a gross invasion of my privacy. I’m scared of the things she saw me do. “I saw your mom, Isa. I grew up seeing that face in photographs. She was my mom’s best friend, so…”
“Got it,” I say. I don’t want to talk any more about Isa than I have to.
Once we’re in our suite, Wendy knocks on Calista’s door and I go into my room.
“Des!” Aralia sits up. “You’re alright.”
“Fine.” I pull my spatha from the wall. “Do you have any more little knives?”
“A few,” she says like she’s unsure.
“I could use them.” I strap the sheathe to my back and slide the sword in.
“You’re going to fight?” Her eyebrows knit together in worry.
I think about giving her a quippy response, but I decide time is of the essence and settle for, “I need the knives.”
Aralia pulls things from the desk between our beds and I pull myself out of the dress, opting for something more suitable for battle.
Battle. What am I doing? As if I could even fight a classmate, let alone some ominous magical evil thing. I’m in over my head.
Well... maybe not. I’m quite the killer.
“Here.” She hands me three silver daggers. I guess they’ll have to be enough. Then she does exactly what I did: puts on clothes more suitable for battle.
“What are you?—”
“I’m not leaving you hanging this time. We’re fighting the Arcane? Perfect, maybe we can win. We have one on our side.”
“Who?”
Aralia turns to me, rolling up her shirt sleeves. “You.”
I smile like she’s told a joke, but she doesn’t. “Me?” I ask in disbelief. “I’m a Fire Folk.”
“Tell that to your eyes.” She walks past me, leaving me momentarily stunned. “Are we going or what?”
“Wait,” I grab her arm, stopping her, “so, you couldn’t accept that I’m septic but you can accept that I’m an Arcane?”
“It’s like I said, I had an idea of what Folk from the septic were, and I realized that was wrong. That didn’t change because your title did.”
And my title is Arcane. That can’t be true, it isn’t right. I would know if I was one of them. I can’t even do what they can—they literally stopped my feet from moving. I’m not that, but of course people think I am.
Lately, they’ve enjoyed assuming the worst.
“Aralia?”
“What?”
“That’s insane,” I say.
“Alright,” she says with a small smile and an annoyingly lavish voice.
I missed it.
Calista and Wendy are already in the common area when we exit our room.
“He’s certainly still in the academy,” Calista says to me, but not without glaring. Whatever.
“Then let’s go.”
Calista navigates us through the hallways, carrying Wendy with her until we find Lilac standing outside Lucian’s suite. “Lilac?” Calista walks to her and touches the sword that she holds. “You’re fighting?”
But Lilac’s eyes are on me when she whispers, “No.” Then she looks at Calista. “Yes, I’m fighting. Get Desdemona out of here. Now.”
“No—” I’m cut off when Lucian walks out, his eyes landing on me immediately.
Before he even seems to register that it’s me, he takes one long stride to me, holding onto my face like I’m a falsity.
“My darling Desdemona,” he says, and I expected more… I don’t know, elation from him. He sounds regretful. “You’re ruining me.” I feel something cold prickle up my back, grabbing my hands and pulling them behind me so hard that my back arches.
“Lucian!” Lilac shouts.
Lucian’s eyes close and his face contorts like he is in pain. The shadows drop from my wrists, and he gets out one measly word: “Run.”
“Run, now!” Lilac shouts when I hesitate.
And so I run, and no one follows. I turn around and they’re all fighting to hold Lucian back, even Kai. My entire body shakes with confusion so strong that it errs on the side of fear.
I’ve always had nothing, I never had Lucian.
Even while I run, I feel like a mess of emotions and nothing more. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do anymore. My mom doesn’t care for me, Damien and his family are scared of me, and who knows what’s going through Lucian’s mind.
I keep running like it will save me, but all I’ve ever done besides kill is run, and it’s seemed to have gotten me absolutely nowhere.
I turn into the ballroom and find the ground has stains of blood, but I find a clean enough corner and tuck my knees into my chest and my head to my knees. I try not to hyperventilate, but that’s exactly what I do.
You can’t go home again and you can’t go to school either, I guess. There is no place for me, and maybe there never has been. And what, I’m an Arcane now? I think of Lucian calling them harbingers of chaos, and I think that’s all I am too.
But what does that mean? I go and live in the void with these creatures and my mom who hates me? No thanks! I have so few options, and I hate them all.
Actually, I think I have no options.
The scariest question of them all arises: would I be better off if I’d just been honest? If I didn’t hide who I was like a disease—if I’d told Damien about the dreams and the cut, would he have been scared of me then, or would he have understood me now?
If I’d told my mom, could she have protected me? Clearly, she’d already known everything. Could she have stopped this?
Could she have stopped me?
And Lucian… he’s probably learned that I killed more than just one person. That I killed eight in the time we knew each other and now he sees me as a monster, because that’s what I might be. Telling him that I had a sad childhood doesn’t make up for that. Obviously. I was stupid for thinking it could. He’s probably sure he’s doing the right thing by taking me out, and all the others telling me to run and trying to stop him just don’t know what he knows.
Footsteps echo from the entrance, and I curl into myself a little more, as if I could disappear.
“You can’t hide from me, darling,” Lucian’s voice echoes. It doesn’t sound menacing, even though I think it’s a threat. “I feel you everywhere I go.”
I stand, clutching onto one of the daggers Aralia gave me and I aim for his heart.
I try to let go of the blade. It’s perfectly aimed for the most important organ. He’d be on the floor in seconds, dead in minutes.
But I can’t. Not with him. And those words I thought not long ago ring through my mind like an incessant bell.
When did I become so weak?
“They want me to bring you to them,” his voice croaks. “I’m trying to fight it.”
The Arcanes.
I have no other option, do I?
“You’re trying to fight it?” I whisper like I don’t believe it. Why would he try to fight it? I’m probably no better than them. I don’t even know how much blood coats my soul.
I’m scared to see the hideous thing.
“Okay.” I step closer and closer until I am in his arm’s reach. “It’s okay.”
If I can’t kill him, then I have no other option.
“No,” he steps back, and it looks like it pains him.
“I mean, it was always going to end this way, wasn’t it?” I try to smile. “Septic scum and future king. Lucent and Arcane.” His head shoots up. “Like Amun and Eira,” I croak when the words fall from my burning throat.
“I won’t do it,” he pushes the words out, but the shadows that spread from him to me say otherwise. His jaw clenches so tightly that I want to ease the tension. “But you need to run.” He tries to catch his breath. “You need to fight me! Because I will strike, and I won’t miss.”
I stand, staring, trying to collect my thoughts in a meaningful way. Trying to think of something to say other than, you’re doing the right thing, stopping me. You’re doing what everyone else should have done.
In the silence between the words I think and the words I want to say he breathes one that helps me collect my own.
“Run.”
I step closer to him, the darkness swirling beside me with every step. “I’m done running.” I pick up his cheek and force his gaze to mine. “I’ve been running my entire life,” I whisper. “It was never worth it.” His face falls deeper into my palm and his hand holds my wrist. At first, it’s tender, but I can feel his fight to keep his grip from tightening. “I’ll go,” I say, “just let me go.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
Lucian raises his head. Veins pop in his forehead and a sheen of sweat covers them. He’s trying to inch away from my touch and give into it all the same.
“Desdemona you don’t understand?—”
“That no one will remember me?” He looks shocked, for a moment. Then he just looks pained. “I understand. But there’s too much misery because of me. Too much pain.”
Do you enjoy pain? From here it seems it.
“That’s not true?—”
Maybe the truth is easier than another lie.
Suddenly I have no more to spew. No more weapons to wield.
“I’ve killed eight people since I’ve been here,” I say. “Even more as a child, but I can’t even remember them all. Whatever this is, I deserve it. And you—you don’t have to bleed until we’re even. It was never going to be a fair playing field with me in the game.”
He points at his chest but the gesture is weak. “And I lied to you. I got close to you to use your power for myself. I kidnapped and tortured your father!” I watch the tears well in Lucian’s eyes while the shadows around the room begin to swirl again. “I killed my best friend… Whatever you did to think you deserve this, I’ve done worse. And I won’t doom you, too,” he strains. “I can’t.” His hand reaches out to me, but it shakes. Like he wants to touch me but his body—whatever spell has him—won’t let him.
I pick it up for him and the second I do, the shadows wrap around my legs. Good.
“Well then we’ve both done terrible things,” I say. My lip quivers and it’s beyond my control. “But I’m yet to pay for mine.”
The cold wraps around my throat and my eyes well until I can’t breathe. Lucian’s hand shakes and he screams out my name. But as the light of the room goes out, so does his voice.
Until a slow clap fills my ears.
“You should have run,” Lucian whispers.
“Good, son.” My eyes land on the most horrifying sight I’ve ever seen. A burnt figure with ashen skin and orange disgustingly shiny blisters covering its body.
Like my hand and forearm that everyone can see now, since the glamour has worn out.
“Lucian,” I wheeze, clawing at the immaterial shadows. I couldn’t use my weapons against him, but I’ll use them against that.
This is what people think I am?
“Let,” I breathe, “me go.”
I fall to my knees, where I stay to catch my breath. Lucian turns to the creature. There’s only one measly guy, Lucian and I can take him.
But Lucian isn’t fighting him.
“Lucian,” the Arcane says.
Lucian’s hands are clenched so tightly that I see every one of the veins in his arms. His face is red as blood. “No,” he chokes out.
“You’ll have to forgive my son,” it says to me, stepping closer. When a long, burnt finger comes close to my face, I catch its wrist. I stare into its eyes. Red like mine. I hope I look dangerous. I hope I look scary.
I hope he doesn’t see how afraid I am.
I hope Lucian does.
But the thing smiles. “He is going to be so happy to finally meet you.” Then it jerks its wrist from my hold and turns to Lucian. “Lucian Aibek, I relieve you of your favor.”
His hands unclench, his body stops shaking, and with one strong movement of his arm, the Arcane is wrapped in shadows.
“You are her ruin,” it says, peeling the shadows away like they are tangible. “Not mine.”
Aralia and the others all run in before I’ve even managed to comprehend those words.
You are her ruin.
Now the Arcane is looking at me. “You will choose your friends’ lives over your own?” It smiles, the teeth ugly and yellow and decayed. “When you are what we’ve been waiting for.”
Still on the floor, I throw my knife at its throat and it pulls it out as if I’ve done no significant damage at all. The blood wipes clean off the blade and moves through the air and back into the wound. Then it closes with a sizzle.
Kind of like mine.
“Very well,” it says.
Two more of these ugly creatures come in, and Yuki wields his sword and says, “Oh this is insulting, man! Three to eight?”
Three against eight could be an easy fight, if my knife trick worked.
The first creature turns to him and Yuki falls to the floor, clutching to his chest.
And when the same thing happens to Aralia, I run in front of her before I can think of it. Immediately, my vision dims as the screams of pain pass my lips. I hear Lucian call my name and an unfamiliar voice say, “Oh, ease up on her.”
Another says, “She killed Ciella.”
Then all the sound ceases to exist and I’m writhing on the ground in sheer agony. This pain, it’s in my chest and it’s going to kill?—
“Desdemona!”Lucian shouts. I see him running to me, swinging his sword wherever he can. He severs a hand. Then he falls to the floor.
It’s a shame it’s taken me so long to get here, to decide I’m finally ready to tear back every mask and burn every fear. Because it seems I’m out of time.
Because now, there’s nothing.
A flicker of light.
A fire so hot I swear it’s melting me.
A layer of soot, a gasp of air, and Lucian across the floor from me, looking at me in sheer shock while he clutches onto his own chest.
“No,” I manage to say, trying to sit up, but there are pounds of ash holding me down. They’re doing to him what they did to me.
And I’d expected my heart to stop beating.
“No!”
Yuki and Kai lie unconscious, but I see they’re still breathing. An Arcane holds a knife to Aralia’s chest, and she barely moves. Calista and Lilac are frozen everywhere but their eyes. Wendy lies on the floor with a blade in her thigh, but there’s no blood.
“We didn’t kill them,” the one who called Lucian “son” says. “For you. We have no qualms with murder, if it will encourage you.”
“Lucian.” I pry my way out from below the ash and crawl my way to him. He’s sweating like he’s being burnt and clutching his heart like it’s going to explode. “Stop it!” I think they just had me almost dead on the floor, and still, they’re trying to encourage me to go with them.
It only stands to reason that they can’t make me go against my will—otherwise, they would’ve taken me in the school hallways or my old dwelling. They had a number of opportunities to simply kidnap me, but they wanted to encourage me.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “I’ll go with you. But only if you let me say goodbye.”
“No—” Lucian chokes.
“Let him go, Aisling.”
Lucian’s grip on his shirt, over his heart, loosens. He grabs my hand like it’s his life force and says, “Don’t go.” His weak, trembling hand reaches for my cheek and he whispers like a vow of love, “I can’t forget you.”
Right. Because if I feared losing my life ever before, that was a child’s game. What I’m about to do is worse than death.
I glance around the room, at how easily these three creatures have taken down the eight of us. I don’t even have an inkling of hope that we’d stand a chance if we had a do-over.
“It’ll be okay.” I hold tightly onto his hand. “You’ll go on,” my voice chips.
And I’ll give up my life to save him, Aralia, Wendy, Yuki, Kai, and Lilac. Even Calista.
Suddenly, what I’d considered nothing doesn’t feel like nothing. What I have here feels like everything.
Lucian, Leiholan, Aralia, they’ve become the people who know me best and the ones who care for me most.
And I’m about to give it all up.
“May we meet again?” I whisper.
Lucian shakes his head, hard, his lips trembling while a tear rolls down his already sweat-dampened face. “No. I’m not doing this again.”
Was Mom wrong? Was I wrong? Is someone seeing me really a weakness?
Or is it a strength?
Because there is no world in which he would fight for me if he didn’t know me.
And I thought getting to know him would show me his weakness, but it’s only made losing him harder.
We fight for one another because we care. And there is no caring if there is no knowing. I guess I see that now.
I know what I didn’t before.
“May we meet again.” I lean down and kiss his shaking forehead.
“No.” His other hand rips from mine and grabs my face. “If I do anything, I will find you. I will hunt to the ends of this universe and the next to remember you again.”
I want to be worthy of this devotion.
“Maybe you should write that down,” I say, tears breaking through my front, wetting my cheeks and making it hard to speak. “So you don’t forget.” I hold onto his hand and gently put it over his chest, sliding the little wolf back into his palm.
I could’ve had it. I could’ve put my trust in someone other than myself. I could’ve had everything I’ve ever wanted, before I knew I wanted it.
I could have opened my heart.
But he puts his hand on top of mine and slides the wolf right back. He whispers, so quietly it’s almost inaudible, “Keep it close.”
There’s a look in his eyes, written on his sweaty and tired face, that convinces me to take it. I nod once and stand, walking to one of the Arcanes. I can’t tell them apart. But when it says, “Are you ready?” I know it’s the one who called Lucian “son.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
My left hand balled into a fist.