Chapter 12 #3
“You’re not crazy.” He shakes his head and silently comes to sit at my side. It takes him a few moments to find his words, but he recovers. “You’re saying that if the dagger leaves the body, history will repeat itself?”
“If we use it with ill intent!” No one here had good intentions for the dagger. No, people were here for the gain of power, wealth, and status. To do an evil deed in the name of good is still an evil deed.
A small, disheartened breath comes from Ben’s corner.
He steps forward; observation complete, it seems. He stops right in front of me.
“Your mother thought that you both were connected to this thing in some way. Mr. Morgan, Ademir, and Mr. Bennett have hinted at it too. What happens if you’re the one to remove the dagger? ”
His question strips me raw and leaves me bare out in the open. The answer has always been there, but I can hardly staunch the bleeding now. It was always the plan. It was M?e’s plan and then Mr. Morgan’s and now the rest of them.
Diederick swallows and leaves my side.
“What do you know, Diederick?” I ask, my temper rising slightly.
“I know what your mother intended on doing the first time.”
I think I know the answer, so I look to the floor. Am I expected to do the same? Was this some plan by some mastermind to get me to be the sacrificial lamb? To wield the dagger on behalf of Britain?
“No. No, you can’t be serious,” Ben says, his voice rising with each word.
When I look up, I find his words, as with his eyes, are absolutely directed towards me.
I know he wants me to make my own way; that he viewed Isadora’s theories as dangerous toward the end.
But I can’t ignore the path M?e set me upon.
Tears line Diederick’s eyes as he comes clean. “Isadora never told me the details, only that the dagger could never fall into the hands of man. She intended on taking care of it on the Bach Expedition.” He swallows again. “The outcome was not what we intended.”
“And what’s the intended outcome this time?” Ben asks, furious.
Diederick falls to his knees in front of me. He tries to gather my hands in his, but I can hardly deem it acceptable to let him touch me. “To see if we can figure out a solution together.”
“And if we fail?” I ask timidly, already knowing what will be said.
“To let you choose.”
Wield it. Destroy it. Sacrifice myself for it.
Ben lets a list of expletives fly.
“What the hell are we doing?” Ben’s voice grows as he grabs Diederick by the collar and drags him to his feet. “We need to end this expedition right now!”
“Ben,” I chide, coming to my own feet and ignoring the dizziness that accompanies the movement. “There’s still Ivo and my father.”
Ben’s grip loosens but only slightly. He won’t release him.
“This is what my m?e wanted for me?” I ask through loose tears.
Diederick nods. “She said it had to be you if it couldn’t be her. She said it’s your bloodline.”
My hand goes to the necklace still slightly vibrating at my chest. It’s suddenly heavier than it’s ever been.
No one had once stopped to ask me what I might want to do.
Instead, they had kept the cold-hearted truth from me for my entire life.
But that isn’t fully true either, I think I’ve always known that it would come to this; the whispers had only confirmed it.
At the very thought of the whispers, I hear the hiss.
A sacrifice must be made before a new dawn, it reminds me with a terrible laugh.
When I don’t speak, Ben practically throws Diederick away from him. “Who knows the truth?”
“Only me,” Diederick says, throwing his arms up in surrender.
“Mr. Morgan knows a different version of the truth, but his hands are tied with the government. He wants only what’s best for you.
” He pauses to catch his breath. “Mr. Bennett knows to let Lillian be the one to excavate and ultimately get the dagger, but he doesn’t know why. ”
My heart snaps. “What about Ademir?” I whisper.
Diederick’s eyes grow glassy. “That I do not know, I apologize. Your mother’s relationship with him was extremely private.”
“What if no one gets to the dagger?” Ben asks, completely ignoring Diederick answering his last question.
“Then things return to what they once were.”
It’s a false statement. Now that the truth of the Pico da Neblina has been discovered, it will not go quietly back into the night. It will be hunted and searched for the rest of time if a single person from either of the groups in pursuit fails but lives to tell the tale.
“Well then,” Ben answers. “We need to make sure no one gets there.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him that I think that ship has sailed.
I don’t tell him that despite the unknown—the aching devouring feeling of dread inside of me—I want to get there.
I want to do what must be done and fulfill what M?e had envisioned for herself.
If it is my fate to make a world altering choice, then I’ll be glad that I will at least have one to make.
As if in response to my darkened divination, the necklace thrums at my chest and I reach for its comfort.