Chapter 3 #2
The point was, the leaf was not supposed to be an awful burnt brown and everything sucked.
“Oi, Esme, plan on brooding or do you plan on helping?”
I stood, flicking the leaf away and nodding at Sky to make himself happy chomping on any fresh leaves he could find. He wouldn’t go far, not with tensions still high and tears still stinging the back of my eyes. I tossed a treat in the air for good measure, which he caught with a loud crunch.
“Hand me something to work with and I plan on being helpful,” I snapped at Alec, an eighteen-year-old kid who had been drafted two years ago and looked far older than his years.
Alec laughed, leaning forward to hand me something that looked vaguely like a sledgehammer. Whatever its original purpose, I would be using it as a weapon against my emotions.
“So we’re just…” I trailed off, using the hammer to point at the mass of rubble under our boots.
“Breaking everything apart so it’s easier to shovel away, yes,” Alec responded. “Easier on the horses once we figure out some type of system to help them haul it away.”
I laughed under my breath, “So Freya is…”
“Currently ordering people around in a way that makes Peter look like a ray of sunshine,” Alec responded, a laugh in his voice.
That was enough cheer for the moment, I decided, as I looked down at the large rock in front of me and decided the carving lines reminded me of Ford’s jaw. A second later it was in pieces at my feet.
“Damn, okay,” Alec muttered.
That was all I saw for a while, focusing on smashing rocks and relishing in the burn in my muscles. My limbs shook and my cheeks warmed and sweat built on my brow. Old wounds, pushed so far down they were on the edge of forgotten awoke with a vengeance.
A high-pitched whistle was the only thing capable of cutting through my focus, making me stop to rake in heaving breaths.
Two figures were approaching in the dark, illuminated by the bright stars on a clear, cloudless night. As they approached, I realized that it was Peter and Ella, walking close together and speaking between themselves.
They were clearly walking towards me, and I had a moment of sheer, blinding panic.
The same panic that always arose when Peter forced me to discuss this.
Maybe three times over the course of five years, plus the stunted conversations he’d forced me into with a doctor who needed updates on the medication’s effectiveness.
I made myself take a breath. If I couldn’t handle this conversation, I was in for a rough ride.
"Ella, Peter,” I greeted as they approached, forcing a smile to my face. My cheery disposition was betrayed by the collection of shattered rocks at my feet, and the fact that everyone else working the wreckage was giving me a wide berth, scared away by the force of my strikes.
“Esme,” Ella said with a soft smile and nod of her head. She knew, of course she did. She wouldn’t admit it, or treat me any differently, and that was more of a gift than I could ask for. The pity was what scared me the most.
“Please let me do something,” I rushed out, looking for any sort of tangible update to help cut through the anxiety building in my chest.
Ella chuckled under her breath, her stark brown eyes softening, just the barest bit.
“I think you’re doing a good job of helping right now.
You’ve made some progress.” Her head nodded towards the center of the rubble, where someone had placed a pole marking where they thought the Bridge’s powerful core lied.
A little too much guesswork for my liking, seeing as someone could accidentally fall straight through back to Vir.
I smiled at Ella, but then turned to Peter, the only person I really needed to plead with. “Peter,” I said, letting my tone taking on a beggar’s note.
Peter shook his head from sheer disbelief, barely seeming to understand me. “I can’t tell if this was just to show us that they could destroy us if they wanted or something deeper.”
“A distraction,” I supplied. It would be smart, making us focus all our energy and resources on rebuilding so we’d miss something bigger forming in the background.
“Likely,” Ella said with a note of sarcasm in her voice.
I nodded quickly, my mind firing a million miles a minute trying to come up with a plan.
It felt like minutes had passed inside my own mind, but it was likely no longer than a second before Peter said, “Let’s not think that far ahead right now. I want you to take care of yourself before I send you two off.”
His use of you two was not lost on me. Ford and I had hardly spent a day apart in eight years, and we surely were not going to start now. The back of my mind tickled again, like a thought was trying to jump to the forefront. I shoved it away forcefully.
Old, hateful bitch.
“No,” I said, shocked at the fire in my own tone. “No special treatment. We have to act now, and fast. What do you need me to do?”
Peter sighed, pinching the skin between his brows. “I’m leary to send you into Pax right now, but I think that is what’s necessary.”
“See if people are moving out?” I asked, supplying the information he was likely going to share anyway. It wasn’t a far leap to make. The surrounding Muli camps, the ones that housed their own soldiers, while keeping Pax neutral, had been surreptitiously abandoned in the past day.
Mere hours before our camp was blown to smithereens.
And as we’d intended, through years of careful planning for a similar situation, our presence in Pax would not ring alarm bells. We’d just be doing business, checking in to make sure our trade lines weren’t going to disappear with the retreat of Muli troops.
Peter paused, the barest, imperceptible pause, before he nodded. “Yes, that is what I’d like you to do.” His words were stunted, a little awkward, as if he had to force himself to say them.
Ella, the ever perceptive woman she was, stepped off to the side to check on the others standing around the Bridge. Also, very likely, to make sure they couldn’t hear our conversation.
When we were alone, I felt that nervousness creep up again, threatening to steal my breath away. It didn’t help that Peter sighed heavily, visibly shedding the formal personality he was forced to embody.
“I don’t want this for you, Esme,” he said softly.
Tears sprang to my eyes too fast to stop them. I shook my head, trying and failing to dispel them. The first loss of control of many to come.
The single tear that slipped down my cheek was almost menacing, taunting me with a threat of what could be unleashed.
“I will let you handle this as you see fit,” Peter continued, looking down at the ground between us, not quite able to meet my eyes. “But I will not entertain a reality where you are as close to death as you once came.”
I dropped my gaze to the floor alongside him, equally uncomfortable with this conversation. “Okay,” I said, my voice hoarse and broken. With everything happening, I couldn’t truly promise that. I didn’t know the next time I would be put in danger. Or Ford would.
Peter smoothed his hand down my hair, a comforting, paternal gesture. After all these years, he might as well be my father. I know I played a complimentary role for him, filling a void carved out by a life of service. “Take care of yourself. Please.”
I looked up at him with a smile, letting a laugh through.
“Was that hard for you?” Peter never said please.
Peter shook his head while a wry grin softened his face. “I’m glad to see your humor is still alive.”
“Always is,” I said, scrambling for those pieces of sanity that felt so far away at the moment.
Peter seemed unconvinced by my laugh, but he stepped away with a few quick nods. A soothing motion, something the body did when it was trying to convince itself of something. I didn’t press it—wouldn’t press it.
If you saw someone in the throes of insanity, it would take you a second to believe that they were capable of normalcy again.
All things considered, only two or three days had passed between my last bout of madness and this moment.
Those five years in between meant nothing when they were clouded by that medication.
“I’m glad you’re helping,” Peter said, wincing as his eyes surveyed the destruction before him. “But try to get some sleep. Everyone is eager to help, and most people don’t have to be sharp tomorrow.”
I nodded, rather than tell him I had better chances at getting sleep if I exhausted myself with physical activity rather than head back now. Especially considering I was sure a shared tent was in my future.
I could see if there were a couple single person tents, but…well, that was the shitty thing about Muli. In order to get over here, you needed a Match. Intentional or not, every system we’d set up on this side of the Bridge favored pairs.
Peter and Ella headed back to the main house, something I guessed at more so than saw. It was still standing, which was honestly shocking. Rather than dwell, again, on how awful it was that we were here, I focused my energy on the rocks in front of me.
Sweat was just starting to build again, fresh, warm beads of exertion that chased away the cool drips of water that had chilled my skin while I paused to talk to Peter, when I heard someone say, “Need help?”
It was a trick of my own mind, pretending it took a second to place that voice. My body locked up before I even registered it, my next swing down onto a thick boulder sloppy and making my bones rattle more than normal.
“If only so that you can watch the show,” Alec called out, his voice thick with laughter. I looked up, curious what I was missing, until I realized that everyone was looking at me.
Oh. I was the show.
Missing the underlying tension swirling around us, Alec pressed on. “She’s been going at it like a banshee. I mean shit, we’re mad too, but Esme must be imagining the Prince’s face on those rocks.”