Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
EMMA
Eleven a.m.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since Caden and Sean left for Slava. Not like I missed them or anything, but considering my less-than-popular status, I had been rather reluctant to leave my room since their departure. As a result, I’d spent most of my time reading in bed.
Summoning items across Collective borders could be tricky, but thankfully, I’d encountered no issues when I summoned my books from Cyclos. I’d been too lazy to translate any shelves or bookcases, so, as usual, my prized possessions were scattered haphazardly across the floor.
I hadn’t been invited to join the others in the dining room last night.
Instead, a sweet and handsome young boy, no older than sixteen, had approached me with a polite inquiry about what I’d like to eat.
I initially assured him I was perfectly capable of translating my own meal, but after his gentle insistence, I had to admit he was a far better cook than I was.
At least they had sent someone who made exceptionally tasty food.
Jesse, as it turned his name was, came by about ten minutes ago to tell me Caden and Sean had come back already and would brief us later on today.
As I prepared to get ready, I pulled out some fresh clothes. After a quick shower, I sat on my bed, fully dressed, waiting.
A morbid curiosity took hold of me as I stared down at my arm, compelling me to peel away my Skindo tattoo.
Beneath it, the angry red scars glared back, vivid reminders of the horrors from last year.
The irony wasn’t lost on me—I was preparing for a meeting with the very people who had carved these scars into my flesh.
I tried to ignore the pang near my heart, tried not to relive the memory of James bursting through those doors at Coastal, ready to save me, only to find me at the center of devastation. Fake devastation, as it turned out.
Fuck. Thinking of James was too painful.
I shouldn’t have stripped away the tattoo, yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop staring at the scars.
They were hideous. I had visited countless Healers, desperate to find a solution, but the tattoo was the only thing that could cover them.
A tear slipped down my cheek, which I wiped away quickly.
Dammit. Everything hurt. The memories of Caden, the doubts about Sean, about Enya. And most of all…
James.
James’s betrayal. How was I ever supposed to get over any of it?
"Ahem," someone cleared their throat near my door.
My eyes shot up, and I frowned when I saw Caden standing there, his gaze fixed on my arm.
No emotions.
“Come to admire your work?” I asked, my tone impatient and cutting.
For a brief moment, I could have sworn I saw something like shame or remorse flicker across his face. But when he spoke, the mask was back in place—neutral, unreadable. “There is something we need to talk about.”
I snorted. “You want to talk about what you did to me back at Coastal?”
“Not really,” he replied, his voice flat.
"Well, I’m not exactly feeling too inclined to open up to you either,” I shot back.
He looked at me for a long second, unreadable and still.
“We need you in the command center,” he announced formally before turning to leave.
“You never asked,” I blurted out, unable to stop myself.
He paused, then turned back with confusion etched on his features. “I never asked what?”
“You never asked me to simply join. Why didn’t you…ask? You could’ve told me about the Trackers, about the future. You could’ve simply asked me to help you figure out my translation.”
He remained still, calm as ever. “Yes,” he said at last. “We could’ve done that.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“The stakes were too high. You were practically human. Chances were…” his words trailed off.
“You thought I would side with them,” I finished for him, sharper than I intended.
Caden nodded slowly. “That was one concern, yes.”
“You guys really thought I would side against my own son?” My voice wavered, as disbelief crept in.
His jaw tightened. “Some of us believed knowing about Alek would secure your help, but others weren’t convinced. In the end, as I said, the stakes were too high to risk it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have sided with them. Even if Alek wasn’t my son, I would’ve never sided with people—any people—trying to suppress others.”
Caden didn’t reply.
I sighed. “I’ll be down in a second,” I dismissed him, turning my attention to the clothes Cyclos had sent me through a standing portal between Collectives.
“It’s the future of every maga and magus. Not only those we know in the present, but those we don’t. Their children. Their children’s children. If Walker doesn’t succeed in destroying every single prism, figuring out how to make our translation untraceable is our only hope to save our people.”
My eyes met his. “The consequences to this maga be damned,” I whispered, nodding in reluctant understanding.
“I get where you were coming from, Caden, however misguided it was. But instead of talking to your teammate James to find out why I am the way I am, instead of asking me to cooperate and taking a chance on me, you chose to hurt me, maim me, and traumatize me. So forgive me if I’m not exactly eager to share my secrets or offer you my friendship. ”
“Then why the fuck are you here? If what we did is so awful, why come here at all?” Caden snapped, his frustration breaking through.
“Because I had nowhere else to go!” I shouted, the emotion I’d been holding back finally spilling over.
“And I panicked, okay?” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “Stephen and James were the two people I thought I could trust in this world, and they turned out to be…” I struggled to find the right words, the hurt still raw.
“James lied to me about everything—he broke my fucking heart. Stephen lied to me about everything, too. And as much pain as you caused me, at least that one was only physical!”
I let out a deep breath. “At least with you, I knew from the start I couldn’t trust you. You being the face of their horrors made you the only one showing his true colors.”
Sinking down onto my bed, I retreated, pulling back all emotion, hiding behind my mask once more. I swallowed a breath, willing myself to stay in control, regretting my outburst. “I had…have nowhere else to go.”
Caden stilled for a moment. Then said in a slightly softer tone, “You’re fighting with us now. You don’t want innocent people to get hurt, and neither do I. You’re fighting our fight, my fight. As long as that’s the case, you’ll always have a place here to stay.”
He took a step close and flexed his jaw. “But you can’t keep shit like this from us anymore. Not when it affects us or the missions we’re sending our people on. If I’m counting on you to translate, it’s because I need you to. You can’t withhold tactical intel from me.”
He ran a hand over his face, clearly exasperated. “Jeez, Emma, I fucking left you alone at that camp. You really think I would’ve done so if I didn’t believe you were going to translate?”
“I didn’t want to set off any LiaPrisms,” I replied, lowering my eyes and letting my voice drop to a near whisper.
His voice grew more intense. “You have the Elder’s power inside you. Let me make this very clear: choosing not to use your power is never the right choice. Got it?”
“But what if it—”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about you being traceable in here. Being untraceable is a great asset, yes, but it’s never your greatest. Your power is! It’s the strongest weapon we have against the Radicals, and, in time, it might be what saves us against humans—if war turns out to be inevitable.”
He stepped closer, urgency pouring off him. “Don’t you see? It’s you we need. But if you keep secrets from me and force me to make bad decisions based on faulty intel, I can’t trust you. And if I can’t trust you, you can’t be here.”
I swallowed hard, trying to process his words. He sounded kind of…reasonable.
I gave a curt nod, and he did the same, a small moment of silent truce passing between us, before he turned and left the room.
The command center buzzed with low chatter. I leaned against the wall, my arms crossed, trying to collect the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind. Caden stood at the head of the table, his features drawn tight with frustration.
Noticing my absence from the table, his eyes swept the room until they locked with mine. With a curt nod toward an empty chair, he silently beckoned me. Reluctantly, I moved to take the seat, aware of the room’s collective gaze now on me.
Caden cleared his throat, the subtle sound cutting through the air and commanding immediate attention. “All right, everyone, it’s time to get up to speed on Petru’s involvement in the Resistance.”
“Or, more accurately, his lack thereof,” he added.
A murmur of confusion rippled through the team. “Huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you saying he won’t stand with us?”
Caden raised his hand to quell the rising tide of questions. “I approached him with what we know: the Radicals, their Amplifier, the future war against the humans—told him almost everything.”
“But he flat out refused to stand with us,” Caden continued, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe it.
A murmur of discontent spread through the team. I could feel my own frustration simmering beneath the surface, but I forced myself to maintain a neutral expression, trying to gauge the reactions of those around me.
Caden’s shoulders tensed as he spoke, “It’s a tricky situation.
We want him to retract his consensus, but we also don’t want the Radicals to gain power while he does.
Explaining to him to fight with us and to withdraw his consensus, without it seeming like a direct response to the assholes holding a nuclear weapon—who want the same thing—made me sound like a fucking lunatic. ”