Page 26

“Do you think they’ll support my decision?”

The door to the VanDoughten house closed behind us, the pool of light from the street lamp casting a warm glow on Lynette from the sidewalk.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly, still trying to wrap my head around the night’s events. Lynette was planning what essentially boiled down to a coup against our own mother, and a half hour was not the appropriate amount of time to digest the reality. “There were some who seemed enthusiastic, but most of them just looked scared.”

Lynette deflated with a sigh as she hit the sidewalk. “And you?”

“I… don’t know,” I repeated.

Lynette nodded, muttering something under her breath that I didn’t catch. She looked up at me then, reaching out for me to take her hand. “It’s so nice out tonight. Would you mind walking me home?”

I looked up at the cloudless sky. She was right. The weather was perfect, with only the slightest chill in the air. Lynette’s apartment wasn’t far from the VanDoughtens’, so I agreed, taking her hand in mine.

We moved in silence down the streets of the upper Magi City. Here, there was little foot traffic this time of night, so the only encounters we had were those of the pigeon or squirrel variety.

“Oh, look.” Lynette pointed to the iron gates across the street, the sign above reading ‘cemetery.’ “I forget that it’s so close, sometimes.”

“I haven’t visited Father in a long while,” I admitted, shoving my hands deeper into the pockets of my jacket as the wind kicked up. “Did you want to stop by?”

Lynette thought for a moment, then nodded, hooking her arm through mine as we crossed the street. Our father, a rather unremarkable man when compared to Mother, died shortly after we were born of an illness that claimed him far younger than the norm. Mother wasn’t the sentimental type, but once Lynette and I were old enough to learn about him, we’d made it a tradition to lay flowers on his grave at the change of the seasons.

A tradition that had become less important as the years marched on.

We followed the familiar path through rows of headstones, stopping on the second to last on the left. Father’s plot had always been well maintained, but there, in the middle of an autumn evening, we had to brush away the layer of leaves that hid his epitaph.

Here lies Tobias Greene, taken too soon from the scene.

Father, Husband, Adored.

May his spirit find rest in the Source.

“Hello, Father,” Lynette said, squatting down to run her hand along his name.

I had always felt awkward about sharing a name with my father, and I’d often wondered what his surname was before he took Mother’s. I hadn’t really known the man, and what little information I could find out about him didn’t leave me with strong feelings one way or another. He simply was. As he died shortly after our birth, the term ‘Junior’ never seemed appropriate, so it was easy to forget most days that someone had shared my name at all.

He was forgotten, just as I would be one day.

“Are you really going to give it up?” I asked after a moment of silence bloomed between me and my sister.

“Give what up?” she asked, straightening.

“Your position. Our family’s power. All those things you said back there. Are you really going to throw them away?”

Lynette stiffened, folding her arms over her navel. “I’m not throwing anything away, Tobi. I’m simply relinquishing it. Our family doesn’t deserve the power that Mother has amassed. It needs to be given to those better suited.”

“And who determines that?” I continued, my stream of consciousness flowing freely now. “A popular vote? Then, you’ll be handing the reins over to someone who can manipulate emotions better than the next Adored. That doesn’t exactly seem wise. So, what else can you look at? Maybe the Council will be able to hold a search for the right candidate. But they’re all in Mother’s pocket already, so it’s dubious whether or not we can trust the lot of them.”

“Then we’ll reform the Council. It’s unfairly balanced as it is. It’s supposed to be the Council of Magi, yet the Adored and Hallowed are the only ones appointed. We can bring in the Unseen.”

“Right,” I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest, “because that will ever happen. You hand over power to one of them, and you’ve got a war on your hands before they can hold a single gathering. The people would revolt, Lenny!”

She balked at me. “Where is this animosity coming from, Tobi? I thought you were sick of working for Mother’s agenda. What, did you get scared because you might have to give up your swanky bachelor pad on the upper side?”

“Oh, fuck you, Lenny. You know this isn’t about that.”

“Isn’t it?” she pushed, stepping toward me. “The only reason you’re asking me this is because you’re afraid that I’ll fly off the handle and rid our family of its wealth. Well, here’s a novel concept—maybe we should!”

Anger flared in my gut, spurring me on. “And that would make you feel less guilty, huh? Maybe if you give away enough money and resources, people will forget you’re Adoranda’s daughter? Never. You’re stuck with the name Greene just like I am.”

“Then let’s make it synonymous with hope!” Lynette retorted. “Let’s show the world that we’re not the monsters that everyone has made us out to be.”

“Exactly! And if you give away your most effective tool—power—how do you think you’ll accomplish any of it? The minute you vacate that seat, they’ll just replace you with someone worse, someone who will do whatever they want, and we’ll be right back where we started.”

Lynette stepped back, and I advanced another step toward her.

“Not to mention, Mother will still be there, waiting in the wings. If your plan to remove her fails, then there’s nothing stopping her from just taking over the Council again through whatever figurehead gets established.”

“But that won’t happen ? —”

“How can you be sure? How can you know for certain that what you’re proposing will work? What kind of assurance can you ? —”

“Because I’ve seen it!” Her voice filled the empty cemetery, reverberating off the rows of polished stone. “I’ve seen it all happen, Tobias. Flames will consume the world, and it happens because of her. She’ll be the death of everything good and beautiful if I don’t stop her. If I don’t….”

Lynette’s gaze trailed down to our father’s grave.

I halted my advance, her revelation throwing me off balance. “You’ve seen it?” I questioned. “Like the visions you used to have? How long have they been back?”

“They never left, Tobias.” Lynette’s shoulders sank, her voice cracking. “I merely stopped talking about them once I was old enough to understand that’s what Mother wanted.”

“But they can’t be real, Lenny. Don’t you see that? You can’t throw your life away because of a couple of bad dreams ? —”

“Do not mock me, Tobias. I know the difference. These are no dreams.”

“Then let me help you!” I pleaded with her. “Clue me in on what’s going on, and maybe I can help think it through. But giving up the power you’ll need to enact change isn’t the right move. You’ll only clip your wings ? —”

A sound from the bushes a few feet away silenced me. Movement out of the corner of my eye and someone ? —

* * *

If this was Paradise, I struggled to imagine what the opposite must look like.

The warehouse was vacant, except for a few cardboard boxes stacked against the wall that seemed to be melting into one another. Dark stains on the brown exteriors oozed some sort of mysterious liquid onto the floor, and I didn’t want to get closer to investigate exactly what it might be. Lights flickered overhead, throwing shadows that danced across the floors. Kaine followed us inside, just as he promised he would, closing the door behind him. Without the dying sunlight streaking through the doorway, the room was even more dim, and I squinted into the dark, searching for any reason as to why he brought us here.

“This way,” said Kaine, moving away from the entrance and further into the barren space.

“What are the chances we’re about to be murdered by this guy?” Bastien whispered as we begrudgingly followed at a distance.

“Definitely not zero,” I replied, clutching my fist over the stone embedded in my palm, even though it was most certainly drained of magic. Would Bastien be able to fight Kaine off if he turned coat? He’d probably never used his magic to defend himself before. I would have to show him the basics sometime. That was if we survived our trip to Paradise.

Kaine came to a stop near the center of the warehouse, four structural pillars surrounding us but nothing in between. He knelt, brushing aside some scraps of newspaper to reveal a small silver handle embedded into the concrete floor. As he pulled on the handle, the floor creaked and groaned but gave way, a panel of stone coming up in the shape of a hatched door.

“You must be joking,” I said, peering down into the darkness of the opening. The rungs of a ladder disappeared in the pitch a few feet down.

“You didn’t think we’d be hiding out in the open, did you?” Kaine asked, raising an aqua-colored brow.

He had a point. But it didn’t alleviate the twist of anxiety in my gut. If he meant us harm, there would be no better place to commit it than in a hole under an abandoned warehouse. But I had to remind myself that Azrael trusted this man. Enough that he called him a brother. That had to count for something.

Summoning my courage, I crossed over to the hatch, lowering myself down onto the first rung.

“Careful now, Greene. It would be a nasty fall. Even if you are already half dead.” He gave me a wink and I contemplated giving him a finger, but decided I needed all ten if I was going to survive my descent.

Once the light vanished from above, it felt like I was alone in the dark, even though I could hear Bastien and Kaine above me. The descent was slow going, as I had to grope around for each wrung before I could put my whole weight on it, and my shoulder still ached something terrible. When my foot finally collided with solid ground, it was such a shock that I stubbed my toe hard enough to provoke a yelp.

“Found the bottom, did you?” Kaine teased from above.

“What do I do now?” I asked, still clinging to the ladder. I could have been standing on the edge of the void and not know any better. “I can’t see a thing down here.”

“Back up a few steps and make room,” Kaine ordered with a grunt.

I did as he instructed, keeping one hand on the side of the ladder as I took two steps backward. My muscles stretched to keep me attached to the metal tube, but I wasn’t willing to let it go yet.

Once I heard Kaine hit the ground, he muttered something under his breath, and a deep violet light burned into existence in front of his face. The magical flame flickered, throwing wild-looking shadows against his face in a way that set me on edge.

Kaine stepped back from the ladder, eyeing my hand still clinging to the side, and chuckled. “Almost there,” he called up to Bastien, and we watched as he descended the final stretch of the ladder.

We’d climbed down into a tunnel, as far as I could tell from the strange purple light that stretched on further than I could see. The walls were a cool concrete, stained with time and untold layers of grime.

“What now?” I asked as Bastien’s feet hit the ground beside me.

“There’s only one way to go,” Kaine replied, pointing down the tunnel. “Now, let’s get a move on, or we’ll be late for dinner.”

I looked back at Bastien, who rolled his eyes. “Well, we can’t be late for dinner, can we, Bastien?”

The tunnel continued in one direction for what felt like half a mile before making an abrupt turn to the left, followed by a fork. Kaine showed no hesitation taking the path to the left and was just as confident at the next fork. Before I knew it, we’d taken half a dozen turns, and the tunnel still stretched ahead of us, seemingly endless.

“What are these?” I asked as we rounded another curve of concrete. “They’re not sewer channels.”

“They’re left over from the mortal wars,” Kaine answered, still leading the way by flickering violet light. “A network runs under Brierwood above and goes for miles. Not really sure what they used them for, and a couple of branches have collapsed from age, but don’t worry your pretty little heads. You’re safe as long as you stick with me.”

Somehow, his words didn’t make me feel that way.

“How did the Rebellion find this place?”

Kaine didn’t answer, as we’d come across another branch. He stared at the diverging paths, hesitating for a moment.

“Everything okay?” I asked him.

“Yeah, it’s just difficult to see this one. You’ve got to really know what you’re looking for.”

“What are you looking for?”

Kaine walked forward, nearly colliding with the wall of the tunnel, but his head never made contact with the sloped surface as his form moved through the wall of stone and disappeared. The glow of his violet light illuminated the space around us still, shining through the cracks in the concrete.

“It’s a Veil,” Bastien breathed, moving up to the glowing section of stone and placing a hand against it. He reached his other hand back, beckoning me to join him. “A really good one. I swear, I can feel the texture of the concrete. Even Granny’s weren’t this convincing.”

“How do we get through?” I asked.

“By knowing it’s not real.” He moved his hand over a few inches, his arm disappearing through the wall up to his elbow. Then he closed his eyes and walked through the wall, vanishing from my view.

I braced a hand against the tunnel. It felt solid to me. The grit against my palm dug into my skin enough to be uncomfortable. This was so much more than a normal glamour. They were only illusions. Illusions couldn’t feel this real.

I closed my eyes and stepped forward, bracing for an impact that never came. When I opened them, my lungs deflated with a sputtering exhale.

We stood on the side of a cliff path that wound down and away from us. The ceiling of brown stone expanded high above our heads, forming a dome shape hundreds of feet above. Under the domed roof, an expanse of short buildings spread over the cavern floor, forming a grid pattern with pathways in between. Lush patches of earth sprang up among the structures, with neat rows of crops lining the outer rim, encircling the structures. Above, along the sloped roof, massive glowing crystals illuminated the space, shining down as if the sun itself were presiding over the underground town.

At the center of the buried oasis, a large fountain shot geysers of water into the air, refracting that artificial light into an arch of rainbow hues.

It was breathtaking.

“Paradise,” Bastien muttered.

Kaine had already begun down the winding path to our left, and we quickly hurried to catch up with him.

“What is this place?” I asked as we went. From above, the space hadn’t appeared more than a mile or so wide, but the further we descended from the apex, the bigger the buildings became and the steeper the walls around us grew.

“A settlement,” answered Kaine. “Refugees fled here in search of a better life. They’ve been kind enough to allow us to stay with them for the time being.”

Once we reached the bottom of the path, I stopped and looked up at the blinding lights on the domed roof. It felt as though we stood beneath a hollow mountain.

“Come on,” Kaine urged us forward. “I wasn’t kidding about dinner. I’m starving.”

Bastien seemed just as awed, his eyes wide as we took in the rows of corn and wheat that lined the flat path that led into the town. Now that we were on the ground floor, I could tell that the buildings were not dwarfed as I originally thought. In fact, some of them were two or three stories tall.

As we moved through the rows of crops, a flicker of movement caught my eye and a child carrying a woven basket crossed our path up ahead. Their skin was pale, and their grey hair was pulled back into a braid that hung down their back. Their dark eyes widened as they saw us, but it wasn’t fear I saw in them. It was excitement. They dropped their basket to the ground, waving with both arms over their head.

Bastien made a choking sound beside me.

I looked back at the child, wondering what could have caused such a reaction that he would—then I saw them. Markings of intricate black ink woven up the child’s arms to their exposed shoulders. They looked familiar.

They looked like Bastien’s markings.

“Reviled,” Bastien exhaled the word, and it hung like a miasma over his head.

Another figure appeared from the rows of plants, this one much older than the child with a stooped posture and a basket strapped to their back. Their skin was less pale than the young one, their face wrinkled and worn, but a pleasant smile parted their lips. They, too, bore the markings of a Reviled, the ink faded with age.

“Good day,” Kaine called to the duo, waving from our approach.

The child ran up to us, bowing once they reached a few paces away. “Hello again, Mr. Kaine!”

“Hello again, Thessa.” Kaine motioned at the two of us, “These are my friends, Tobias and Bastien.”

The child gave us a wave, eyes lingering on Bastien longer than expected. “Are you staying with us, too?”

“Yes,” I replied, Bastien still stunned into silence beside me. “At least, for a little while.”

The older figure—a woman with long grey braids tied back from her creased face—had caught up with the child now, setting down their basket of harvested greens. “Welcome to Paradise. Kaine, Wilhelm was asking about you. She’s in the community hall now, so you should probably catch her before she starts making the rounds.”

Kaine nodded. “Let me get these two settled in, and I’ll head right over.”

“You look frightened, child.” The woman was looking at Bastien now, her warm, umber eyes trained on him. “You needn’t be. You can rest here.”

Bastien opened his mouth but didn’t speak.