8. Chapter Eight
Chapter eight
T he Warden had as soft a spot for Koko’s enchanted chocolate balls as I do, so there’s every variety imaginable on the long white table in the grandroom. The kitchen staff organised them into colour blocks so a rainbow shimmies on the table cloth.
A number of the guests, including the concierges who also wished to celebrate the Warden’s life, have helped themselves already. For some it’s very obvious they’ve indulged and their lips match the colour of the treat they ate. Or soft bubbles emerge as they talk, drawing giggles from them and their companions – it’s impossible to talk about anything sad when bubbles sprout from your tongue. Others have sparkles erupting from their fingers as they wave them around.
But I love the ones that pop in my mouth and fill my nose, making me sneeze, and tears come to my eyes. It’s ridiculous, but so fun.
I don’t feel like one today.
Instead, I move to where the Warden would come and stand next to me to watch the proceedings and take a glass that fizzes with silver bubbles in rose gold liquid. I can only assume it’s another of Koko’s creations but I don’t care what’s in it, or what it’s called, today. Emeris spots me from across the quiet room of concierges, prisoners, and strangers, and nods. Everything is going to plan.
I look to the quartet who are about to begin their next arrangement and the violinist gives me a sad smile. I’m staring back at him when Traelen joins me.
‘You’ve done very well, getting us to this point and organising today, Luka,’ he says, hands behind his back and reminding me much of the Warden. But I don’t ask if he has a replacement. The prison has really run itself while Emeris and I prepared for today, but I find I’m not yet ready to hand over the responsibility to anyone else. If I look after it, I can pretend there won’t be a permanent change for just a little longer.
Pretend there’s not a countdown on Nix and River being here and not in Vana.
I look down for a moment before surveying the people who start to smile a little wider as the lights of the music wraps around them. There are more people here than normal and the room feels full but not bursting. Although it’s still a bit claustrophobic with Traelen’s security – the Hunters – lining the walls. Anyone who doesn’t live here will be escorted off the island together and provided with a palatable story about where they were and who they saw – the details of which only Traelen knows. But, even still, I can’t see the man from the clearing and something compels me to keep looking.
Just for a moment, I imagine myself slipping out with those who will return to the mainland tonight. How would that feel? But, despite the slight quickening in my chest, I know that single thought is as far as I will take it.
‘He will be missed from here, I can see,’ Traelen says, his voice heavy with something I can’t place. I can feel him looking at me, and I glance at him politely.
‘Yes, sir,’ I say. ‘He was an excellent boss … and an incredible man.’
He nods, smiling at one of the prisoners who makes her way past us, her hair towering over us all.
‘His replacement will be here soon.’
I look sharply at him.
‘I’d like you to assist him. At least for the first few weeks.’
‘Yes, sir, of course.’
‘I’d like joint check-ins from you, each week. And I expect our prisoners to be back to their normal schedule from tomorrow. Claudius and I didn’t get a chance to talk about the length of your extension, but we can do that with the new Warden once he’s comfortable.’
He doesn’t wait for my agreement before he walks away, my heart sinking a little at the inevitable removing me from running anything. Then the actual reality of what he’s saying hits me and I swallow thickly as I fold my fingers into fists. I’m good at what I do – something I need to maintain so Traelen doesn’t change my recommendation if there is to be any chance I will leave the island at his will and … not with the prisoner I will be releasing. If I could even bring myself to do that. If I can work out how to do that. But if the new Warden finds me so useful in the transition he doesn’t need me long, where does that leave me to do everything else I’m now personally committed to?
Eventually, long after Traelen has started mingling, I decide I can leave my post and I weave through the crowd. Most of them talk of things other than the Warden now, but I don’t begrudge them for it. While many of them didn’t know him like I did, there’s only so long we can talk about our own grief with others.
I look around again for the man from the forest but I only half-heartedly think I’ll find him now; the edges of the room are too dark as the light outside fades and I don’t want to investigate every nook. What need would I have to talk to him again anyway? Other than the little flurry behind my ribs that seems to start up when I think of him and the intensity with which he regarded me.
Something sours a little in my stomach at the knowledge I will never know who he truly was to Claudius, and I mentally add it to the things about my Warden that will now never be answered.
I’d picked up the flower the stranger gave me from the table in our living room and placed it beside my bed before I left tonight. My mind seemingly unable to stop trailing back to him since I left the clearing. I appreciated that he came to check on me, found me at a very low point, and didn’t judge. But he also struck me as someone who would grieve in private, and so I force him from my mind. Pressing my lips together as I scan the room instead, searching for something I could – should – do.
Nix reaches for me as I pass by him and River and I almost find myself wanting to be swept up by him, consequences be damned. It’s been so long since we’ve been together and the events of the last few days have happened so quickly, we’ve barely caught a breath between us. Instead, my pulse rate kicks up at the thought of those consequences – the fact that Traelen is in this very room and nothing can draw his attention to them. The only thing that could have done so more than them being inconspicuously in this room, would be their absence.
Treat them as you would any other s , he’d said.
So, I step aside gently so his hand falls away. He frowns slightly and then seems to remember we can’t be too familiar here. Traelen hasn’t spoken with me about them, even in the aftermath of the Warden’s death, and probably particularly not with a new Warden on the way. Perhaps it will be a secret he won’t share at all. But that’s a theory I don’t need to test.
‘You were great today, Luka,’ he says, his gold eyes pale and sad as they hold mine.
‘Not something I want to repeat. Ever, ideally,’ I say quietly.
‘We all die someday,’ River says, somewhat solemnly, and I look up at him. His face gives nothing away.
‘Ever the optimist,’ I say slowly, a sharp sting of regret about my actual father flashing across my torso.
‘The realist you’ll find, Lu,’ he says.
Nix remains silent.
‘I need to sneak out for a moment,’ I say. ‘I’ll be back. Try the plain chocolate balls, they’re my favourite.’
I duck down the stone hallway to the nearest concierge bathroom. It’s not the closest one to the grandroom but we’re not supposed to use the prisoners’. The now night sky sparkles over the internal courtyard as I wander down its long side, the music fading the further I go.
The bathroom is empty when I arrive and, after relieving myself, I take in my appearance to check everything’s in place before I return, taking the isolation of the bathroom as it is – the only reprieve from the needs of others I will get in a long time. A moment just to be on my own. The ivory dress I wore for the ceremony still looks fresh and I absently thank the crease-resistant fabric. Strands of my platinum blonde hair fall around my face. They weren’t designed that way but I think I prefer the softness they create when my hair is pulled partially back off my face.
Digging through the layers of the skirt on my dress, I find the tube of soft pink lipstick and reapply what wore off as I drank my silver drink. Taking one last look, the toes of my golden sandals poking out beneath the dress, I sigh. This is as good as it’s going to get, and as long as I’m going to get – I should go back, make sure I am seen in the room, supporting the prisoners, supporting the staff. And soon to be supporting the new Warden.
But, instead of going back where I should be, I drop forward and brace myself on the sink, the weight of saying goodbye to Claudius too heavy, too close to the things inside that make me work – make me breathe. My lungs feel tight. I can’t fall apart now.
My phone bumps against my thigh gently as I stand and stare myself down in the mirror, deciding on my next action. Steeling myself to go back into that room.
Reluctantly, I take my phone out of my pocket as well – it’s been too long since I told Zale and Akira I wasn’t collected and they will be worried for both Nix and me.
Luka: I received word that my duty has been extended which explains Nix’s absence. I’ll let you know when I do about my new end date.
I don’t look at myself in the mirror as I lie. The phone buzzes in my hand.
Zale: Oh wow. I’m not sure what to make of that, but I’m relieved it means Nix is okay – we alerted the Hunters to his being unaccounted for but we haven’t heard any more from them. That will be why. Teddy was ready to join that bloody vigilante group she’s heard of to try and find him – they call their leader the Rebel Prince, can you believe it? To say I’m relieved I talked her down from that is an understatement!
Teddy – Zale’s wife who I barely got to know before I was sent here. The weight of my phone as I slide it back into my pocket mirrors the heaviness that’s taking up residence between my ribs. But I agree with her, having Teddy running off chasing some ‘rebel prince’ sounds ridiculous in the extreme.
Making my way back to the grandroom, the music no longer plays and the quiet is loud. My pace picks up a little, reflecting the skittering in my stomach.
Traelen’s voice filters down the hallway.
I can’t quite make out what he’s saying but I know what it will be – he never makes speeches at these events, and he already addressed the Warden’s passing at the service.
He’s introducing the new Warden. ‘Soon’ obviously meant ‘now’.
Shit .
I scurry along the hallway, trying not to get too winded and pause at the door to the grandroom to collect myself and smooth my hair, steadying my nervous breathing. The room is strangely silent, reverent almost – at least from this side.
Placing a hand on the door, the room breaks into a gentle applause.
I missed it.
Fuck.
Gently pushing the doors open and slipping inside, I find the guests starting to mingle once more. As they part, I find my vision blocked by something else and a small gasp escapes me.
A large pair of storm-grey wings, utterly still, fill the space. The back they come from is broad and covered in dark clothing, but I can’t drag my attention from the wings.
There is only one person that it can be.
We have a winged Warden – a Karaylia.
Not that it matters, I suppose, feeling my brow furrow at myself. It’s just not often I see wings like that up close. Despite endless family history lessons from my father about the different abilities in our line, wings were just one more interest outside of me that occupied him. For River, though, his wings were a source of pure joy and entertainment he shared with Nix and me as they were coming in.
I clear my throat, steeling my reserve to introduce myself and walk properly into the room.
Less than three paces away, Nix grabs my wrist.
I spin into him.
‘What are you doing?’ I whisper urgently.
‘Don’t go near him,’ he says, his voice dangerously low and rough.
‘What?’ I pull back where he holds me.
‘I don’t want you anywhere near him,’ he says. I blink in confusion, but the conviction on Nix’s face is clear.
I take my other hand and use it to push his off, glancing around at the other prisoners. ‘It’s fine, Nix,’ I whisper. ‘I’ve been here a long time and I still have a job to do. What am I going to do, ignore my new boss?’ I give him a pointed look and turn back to the wings I can nearly touch, thankful the music will have drowned out my hurried conversation with Nix.
Nix makes one last, sort of subtle grab at me and I skip a little as I get out of his reach.
Only to collide with the wings.
A sharp sting cuts out along my stomach where I come into contact with them. Staring stupidly, I realise the wings are no longer storm-grey feathers, but thousands of blades. Changed in less than a blink of an eye into something deadly.
A warmth spreads along the top of my underwear and down the front of my right thigh.
I glance down.
Oh.
Red petals bloom from my centre and down the front of my dress. My head feels fuzzy, like it’s suddenly full of my dress fabric, and the room starts to spin. The winged man turns towards me, the tattoo on his neck sparkling but blurry. The people around me talk on, their voices droning in my ears.
The grandroom starts to go black at the edges and the last thing I see is Nix’s face.
Almost stormier than the wings.