Chapter five
“We can’t kill him.”
The statement surprises me so much that I actually stand from the settee in objection, and Jaegen raises a brow. So large and magnificent is he that I feel honest embarrassment for questioning him, instincts demanding I duck my head.
“You said that we…” I speak quietly, even apologetically. “You told me that we would end this and—”
“He cannot die,” snaps Jaegen, his stare so heated and heavy that it feels like I’ve been hit in the head. The hot air pushes at me.
I look away. I guess I asked for that; it’s not easy for any man to acknowledge he’s failed, much less a god.
“So, what’s your plan?” I ask wearily.
“If he can’t die, we end him in a different way.”
It sounds like a riddle. I shift my weight between my feet as I consider it, unable to come to a conclusion. “How?” I finally ask.
“We erase him. We make him forget.”
“Forget… what?”
“Everything.”
Forget?
The thought of Aris helpless and confused tugs at a part of me that I need to bury. I shovel some dirt on the image and try to weigh it down. Hide it away.
Think logically, Mary. Ruthlessly. The way that Aris would.
Take Aris’ memory… If it works, if it’s possible, would it be effective? Maybe Aris would forget himself and his current plans, but what would stop him from making a new, perhaps even more deranged, scheme?
“Aris isn’t evil. It’s just what he knows,” says Jaegen. “He is like an injured dog, biting because he’s bewildered and afraid.”
My mouth opens, shuts. Aris ? Afraid? I know that Jaegen is this infinitely intelligent and powerful being, but I don’t think he’s… right about that .
I wince and glance at him, waiting to see if he’ll strike out at the careless thought, but his face is clear. He will allow me one oopsy.
“So he would forget, and then what?” I ask. Would we put him in a hospital with the other amnesiacs?
“You would stay with him while I find a new prison to hold him.”
My brows furrow. A new prison? Does he mean a new person?
Jaegen doesn’t answer that thought either.
“He’s with the Following,” I say hesitantly, touching my necklace. “They’ll never let me wipe his mind. And they have magic. They might be able to reverse whatever we—”
“Simple. You will take him away from them.”
I rub at my temples. A headache is forming. Does this come from Jaegen, like staring at a source of great light? It might be stress. Imagining all of this in practice certainly isn’t calming.
“They won’t let that happen,” I say as slowly as I can, without it sounding like I’m talking down to him. “They won’t let us leave.”
“So you will escape.”
“With Aris? He isn’t exactly known to be cooperative,” I say. “Besides, what if a mind-wiped Aris kills me the second he lays eyes on me?”
“He won’t. You intrigue him.”
I look at him, and my head begins to pound harder. Maybe it is Jaegen, then. I glance away. “And he likes me because…?”
It’s an elusive question: Why does he like me? Because we were stuck together and, for the first time in his long, eternal life, he was forced to be vulnerable? Because he was unable to instantly kill someone who annoyed or challenged him and, for once, had to compromise? If he forgets himself, he forgets all of that. What would make me interesting, then?
“There is a reason he went into you, Mary.”
I whip toward him. Aris had a reason… It wasn’t random? He chose me, all those years ago?
Why ?
My head spins and continues to ache. The question pounds at me, but it’s something to consider later, when Jaegen’s sharp gaze isn’t burning into me.
“So we steal his memory,” I say after a pause. “How?”
“He is weak to magic; we must use a spell; I will put a rune on you that will slowly poison him.”
My mind catches on the word slowly . “How long would it take?”
What I mean is: How long would I be with Aris?
“That depends. I’ve been testing the rune, but humans aren’t comparable to a god. They forget themselves after hours of exposure. With Aris, it could take perhaps… weeks. Months.”
I hesitate. Testing? Who could deserve to have themselves erased like that?
Trying to hide how disturbed I feel, I ask, “So, for the time it takes to work, what would I have to do with Aris?”
“Keep him entertained.”
Entertain Aris. He says that like it’s easy. Stay subject to his whims and pleasures. Play along. Be his doll. For months ? I might not even make it that long. What if he gets bored or one of his crazy followers knifes me again?
And then, there is the quiet voice which raises the deepest fear: What if he finds a way to trick me again? What if I start to trust him again?
I clear my throat. “Can I see it?”
He knows what I mean. Jaegen opens his hand, and a flame appears, a series of swirls and sharp lines inside. The moment I notice the complex rune, the flame extinguishes.
“I will put it on you. Every time he touches or interacts with you, the magic will bleed out and impact him,” says Jaegen. “It’s so intricately woven that he won’t notice.”
I work through the knowledge, brows deeply furrowed, and I take a seat back on the settee. I want to ask: How does he know that Aris won’t notice? And what if Aris does discover it? But questioning gods isn’t prudent, and Jaegen is already in a mood.
Still, I can’t help my doubt, or the fear that strikes with every pound of my head. This plan is complicated. First, I’ll need to be around Aris for an extended period, keeping the sigil hidden from him and his followers. Secondly, once his mind is wiped, I have to get Aris away from them. Finally, if I manage to isolate Aris, it would be my responsibility to babysit him until Jaegen finds a way of containment. Assuming Aris doesn’t go on an immediate rampage, I’d be looking after an all-powerful psycho with no memory of who he is or what he’s capable of. Even if he’s still “interested” in me, who’s to say he won’t incinerate me by accident?
How long would I be doing that? What if Jaegen can’t find a suitable prison?
This is beyond a long shot.
“Do I need to remind you of the risks?” Jaegen snaps, and my head pangs again. Something warm trickles out of my nose. While I wipe below my nostrils, startled by the scarlet sight of blood, he continues, “Aris has begun already.”
Stressed by his temper, it takes a moment to comprehend him. “What?” I ask.
Jaegen waves impatiently, and the television turns on, automatically flipping to a news channel. What is displayed now is described as brEAKING.
A blonde English woman is in a helicopter, speaking urgently and loudly to be heard. “… casualties unknown!” she yells.
The helicopter’s camera pans to pandemonium below. There are overturned trains in the middle of the street, broken storefronts, raging fires with no end in sight, bodies crippled and ripped apart. In the center of it, standing on a mountain of concrete as helicopters and spotlights circle him, is Ryan.
To the credit of the newscasters, the camera has a fantastic shot of him. Ryan is as shirtless as Jaegen, with muscles so large they’re almost comedic: pectorals the size of tires, veins as wide and thick as a boa, neck like a fully grown spruce. He looks like a mutant. It would almost be a jump to call him human if not for his distinguishably sapien face. Then again, even that is different, given his missing ear.
I shift in discomfort at the memory. Aris took control of my body—our body, at the time—and ripped Ryan’s ear off for him speaking out of turn. And then, Aris turned him into a hulking monstrosity as a reward for Ryan’s worship .
When Aris and I left the Following, Ryan came after us, desperate to retrieve his master. Now, he must be on top of the world with Aris’ return. Following his orders.
The camera cuts to an anchorman safe in a studio, though he appears properly concerned for his colleagues in the aircraft. “Is there anything you can tell us from the scene?” he asks.
“Just that I’ve never seen anything like this—except for three years ago.” The woman shakes her head, and I walk closer to the television, hypnotized. The fear in her eyes reminds me of the look in Simon’s. His pain, feeling of powerlessness.
“What can you tell us about the creature on the ground? Do you believe it’s something made by the entity Aris? What is its purpose?”
“Destruction. Just utter destr—” Her voice cuts out as the microphone picks up something, and the helicopter trembles. The reporter looks out the window and shakes her head, face stark white. All professional calm, anything she might have learned or picked up through time as an on-site reporter has left, and she is abjectly horrified.
“It’s a monster,” she says.
The broadcast returns to the grim male anchor. “And on that front, we have eyes on Aris at his meeting with NATO leaders,” he says. He looks, and sounds, stressed. “Reports state that until parties reach an agreement, presumably surrender, the rampage in Berlin will continue.”
The television cuts to Aris in a suit. Dark-haired, clean-shaven and pale, he towers over most people, his broad shoulders and arrogant stance only making him look larger. With a smile that could rival the sun, he’s shaking hands with a group of politicians. At first, I’m surprised by the show of civility and the fact that Aris is actually touching these people, until I notice how terrified they look; it’s probably contributing to Aris’ massive grin.
The camera cuts back to the anchor. “Negotiations began twelve hours ago, and will likely continue into the night. As of this moment, the United Kingdom has sent troops to provide stability and support to Germany. The United States and France have also pledged military support, and there are discussions of drone strikes. Most troubling is the lack of confirmation of evacuation of Berlin and the surrounding municipalities, leaving the question of civilian casualties. We turn now to our senior news correspondent—”
The television goes black; apparently, I’ve seen all that I’m supposed to. I turn from the screen, interest slow to abandon.
I shake my head. “Why is he doing this?”
“It is how he is now—spoiled, infected,” says Jaegen. “You understand what is at risk. We must act now.”
“ Now ?”
“The sooner the better, wouldn’t you agree?” he asks tightly, noting my hesitation. He doesn’t like coddling; it is beneath him.
“Fine,” I say after a moment, and the pressure in my head relents slightly. I don’t think I’m ready to begin this insane plan that probably won’t even work, but he’s right—the sooner the better. People are dying. And I can do something about that. Potentially.
He smiles, dipping his head. “There are a few more things to discuss before we leave,” he says. “Before you make him forget, Aris will have gathered that you were with me.”
My eyes pop open. That detail evaded my notice, and it’s undoubtedly true. Aris is smart; he’ll catch on to what I’m doing, and his suspicion will make things infinitely harder.
Jaegen acknowledges my thoughts with an inclination of his head. “Yes. He will sense that something is afoot and attempt to turn you against me, but you cannot falter.”
Falter? They are hurting innocent people; I won’t be swayed to their side. Still… my curiosity is piqued.
“What kind of things will he say?” I ask.
Jaegen pauses. “What has he told you about me?” he says at length.
I lift my shoulder.
“Nothing? Now, that can’t be true.” Jaegen studies me, reading my mind perhaps. Finally, he says, “He might tell you that I spin… webs with your people.”
Webs?
“Is that true?” I ask, hoping he’ll reveal more.
Though he brought it up, he lets out a sharp breath to be addressing it—irritated, like checking all the boxes on a form. “I have influenced a few things out of curiosity,” he admits. “Technology, politics, religion, and so on.”
“Giving immortality to Aris’ followers,” I say slowly.
Jaegen smiles. “Yes, that.”
“Why?”
“As I said, curiosity. How do I explain this in a way you might understand… Hm. Imagine one day, you’re walking with a friend, and, abruptly, your friend leaves. You follow where he goes, and find him interacting with an anthill. Strangely, the ants are speaking back to your friend. They know his name and are asking him for things. How peculiar—you didn’t know ants knew how to do that! Your friend walks from the hill, now disinterested, and you approach. Not to intervene… at first, merely wondering how simple insects were able to talk to your friend.
“You watch their cycles: collecting food, delegating tasks, protecting their queen. You observe patterns: what they dislike, what they don’t. Maybe you first thought that they would like the rain, since they drink water, but they actually avoid it. How unexpected. You watch further, until they begin to make sense.
“Finally, you make slight changes to this anthill to see what will happen. You kill the current queen to see if they will accept another. You crush half of the colony—will they unify again or become two separate anthills? You learn. You test.”
“Aren’t there other things you could be doing instead of torturing this anthill?” I ask tightly.
“It’s only a metaphor,” he says, a playful light in his eyes. “But I see that it might have offended you.”
That’s putting it lightly.
He just called us all bugs—ants, nothing . Science experiments. I bite my lip, jaw jutting as I try to control my desire to snap. He’s no better than Aris.
“Careful, Mary.” The amusement in his expression is suddenly gone. My head pulses, like my brain is stretching against my skull. “That is what he will try to convince you, but consider him as the alternative. I meddle; he destroys.”
“Crushing the anthill,” I say quietly.
Jaegen nods. “Has Earth been my playground? Have I indulged? Yes, but what do you think a human would do if he were placed under these circumstances if he had true and absolute power? Do you think arbitrary rules would be followed? That one would follow , not lead?”
I turn away.
I can acknowledge that mankind is inherently selfish. What’s more, there are bad people, either born or made, who think only of themselves. We have killers, rapists, bullies and bigots. If those kind of people had true power, undoubtedly they would hurt others—but these are the perverse. Aberrations.
That isn’t all of us.
There are scholars and architects, writers and poets. Sculptures made from every kind of stone, thousands of inventions, and ever-changing languages. There are people much smarter and kinder than me, those who help the poor, who give their lives away like it’s nothing, those who are special and represent the best of us. And that isn’t all of us, but those people exist. And if they had power, they would never hurt anyone, because it would not even occur to them.
There is good in the world, in us . In people . According to him, he has watched us for a while now. How is it possible that he spent all of that time and learned, essentially, nothing?
The temperature rises, a bead of sweat falling down my scalp, and my rage is flushed by fear. Mary, I remind myself, he can hear your thoughts. And he does not like what you’re thinking.
My heart beats loudly as he stares down at me. There is the sense that I am beneath a lion’s claws, unable to predict what he will do next, helpless to stop what he decides.
Will he kill me? No, he needs me. Hit me, then? Strike me down? Maybe. Maybe.
Sweat rolls down my back, the beads chilling me. I wait for my punishment and try to mask my resentment. I don’t want to fuel the fire, but I hate knowing that he might act against me for just thinking . And not for thinking cruel, mean things either, but just for having an appreciation for mankind and life.
Jaegen takes a step forward, and a fresh blast of heat hits me, as well as his earthy, citrusy scent. “All I want is your loyalty,” he says, eyes like two suns. “I do have that, don’t I, Mary? We made a bargain. There are consequences for breaking those.”
A threat ?
“Take it how you will.” Jaegen’s sneer twists his handsome face. “So long as you understand what needs to be done.”
I try to swallow, but my throat is dry. “I understand, Jaegen.”
He studies me for a moment, like he doesn’t believe me. Then, he nods. “We will begin now. Remove your shirt.”
I’m already terrified and on thin ice, but I can’t help but shake my head in surprise. “ What ?” I say, baffled.
Maybe I misheard…?
He raises his hand, a flame appearing in his palm. The fire is so hot that it’s blue and, in the middle of it, are two, sprawling symbols. “I will place them on you now,” he says. “One will keep him from your mind, and the second will erase his memory.”
Oh.
I relax slightly and turn to strip, exposing my vulnerable flesh. Last time, I tattooed the rune on myself. How will it be done this time? Surely, he has different methods. Maybe—
With a blood-curdling yell, the most excruciating pain of my life strikes from behind. It starts on my back, but it’s so sharp that it permeates throughout the rest of me. Metastasizing, pulsing. I try to flail, but my body is pinned in place by an invisible force, and the feeling of helplessness is almost as terrible as the pain.
It’s just like in my dream. Just like the needles.
What is this? What’s happening?
Am I awake? Has Aris possessed me again? Is he controlling my body?
The smell of burning flesh rushes over me, and nausea strikes like a blow. Logical thought leaves altogether. I would be bending over, puking my guts out if I could. But I’m forced upright as my vision blurs and whites out. The only part of me I can control is my mouth, which is forced so wide from screaming that my jaw is locking.
“Almost done,” says Jaegen.
Done? Is he doing this—causing this? I can barely put the thoughts together. I feel stupid and half-conscious.
Abruptly, it ends, my body my own again. Released from whatever hold he kept me in, I tumble to the ground, throwing up my dinner from the bar. I’m able to support my weight on all fours for only seconds before a searing aftershock, likely more imagined than physical, knocks me to the ground.
Whatever is wrong with me is coming from my back. Jostling the muscles there is enough to send me to the grave.
Jaegen sighs. “Will you get up now so I can put the next one on you?”
His words activate my fight-or-flight. The next one?
He wants to do it again ?
“I can’t,” I say—begging, pleading. I try to lift my head to look at him, but it’s too much and I wouldn’t be able to see him, anyway, my vision blurry from either tears or fatigue.
“Burning is the most effective way to place a sigil.” He says this like I am being ridiculous and sighs again, the sound short and irritated. “Get up. I will heal you after.”
There’s a black spot in my memory, the pain overwhelming my visuals, but one moment I am on the ground and in another I am standing.
“Sit,” he says, motioning to the settee.
I sit. I can’t tell if I’m doing it on my own volition or not. My limbs don’t feel like my own.
Jaegen puts the second rune on me.