Blood Scion, page 33
“The very first time I saw you was two years ago.” Across from me, Theodus presses a hand to the bag, his eyes closed as if recalling a distant memory. Something flickers across his face, a strange emotion I cannot place. With a sigh, he peels his eyes open. “You appeared like a swirl in the wind and disappeared just as quickly. Swift enough that I couldn’t grasp anything beyond your pain. Your desperation was true, though for what, I didn’t know. It didn’t matter how hard I attempted to understand. I simply couldn’t. So I tried to get you out of my head. Not all divinations are meant to be read, and perhaps this was one.”
Divination. A chill creeps over my skin, and my eyes snap up to his. “You’re . . . a Scion?”
He winces, but manages a quick, solemn nod. “A descendant of Orunmila.”
For a moment, confusion clouds my mind as I search the royal for traces of a lie, a dark humor of some sort. I flinch when I find nothing.
“That’s impossible,” I choke out.
“Is it?” His smile is dark, a twisted mask to hide the sadness beneath. “When my father, the late Lord General Elijah Sol, married a woman from a Nagean village years ago, he had no way of knowing she would be his downfall.” He speaks slowly, pacing as he does. “My father had married a Scion, and in doing so, endangered the rest of the royal bloodlines. When Ascellus later discovered this, he stripped the entire Sol line of their nobility.” His voice wavers as he comes to a stop in front of me. “I was four when I was made to watch my mother die.”
Though he tries to hide them, the tears in his eyes are hard to blink away. Even though I don’t want to believe anything Theodus says, the torment tugging at his face makes it all too real. Lucis or not, Scion or not, no child should ever have to suffer that kind of pain.
“The king wanted me dead, too,” he says with a hint of bitterness in his tone. “That is, until he learned of my magic. You see, Ascellus thought he could manipulate my gift for his own gain, so rather than kill me, he raised me as a prisoner in his court. For thirty-four years, I became the Lucis’ greatest weapon against the Shadow Rebels.”
As his last words sink in, a wave of terror crashes through me. I gasp as the revelation sears down my throat, leaving a burning ache in my chest.
“By gods, you’ve been helping them,” I whisper numbly.
The endless massacre on the Sahl, the never-ending Cleansing across Nagea . . . the horror slowly starts to make sense. The Lucis have found a way to fight magic with magic.
Now, images of Faas’s wretched lists flash across my vision, each one filled with too many names, Scions’ and Yorubas’ alike. The commander’s always known where to go, who to hunt. Every bleeding time, that bastard’s claimed victory over so many innocent lives. All along, I thought it was because of the pardon clause, but how much of it was aided by Theodus’s visions?
Mama. My chest tightens, and I can’t help but wonder whether Theodus was responsible for her capture as well.
“Did you know?” I whisper. “Did you know about her?”
“Your mother? I knew she, too, had her plans for the bloodlines,” he admits. “I saw this long before she set her mind to it. For a while, her triumph seemed certain. And just as well, I did everything I could to keep the attention away from her. Hid every divination concerning her from Ascellus. Believe me, Adelina’s capture came as a surprise. Even for me.”
I nod bitterly, trying to force down the pain. Gods, our magic was meant to save us, to protect us. Yet, it’s the very thing the Lucis have exploited, another piece of culture to be stolen and used as a weapon. With Theodus on their side, we never stood a chance.
Nausea churns in me as I glance back at the seer. This time, he refuses to hold my gaze, his jaw tightening as he stares straight ahead, looking at nothing and perhaps everything at once.
“You judge me,” he says after a moment of silence, “but you and I, we are alike in many ways.”
My first thought is to tell him that I’m nothing like him, that I could never turn my magic against my own kind. Then I remember the blood on my hands, the parade of ghosts that have become my nightly companions. No Scion or Yoruba has ever been burned by my fire, but I’ve certainly turned my bullets on some of them.
“Children of war are born from war, Sloane. And we are, both of us, a legacy of this ruined world.” Finally, Theodus’s stern gaze cuts to mine. “When Ascellus spared my life all those years ago, he not only kept me captive; he condemned me to a lifetime of guilt. To know you and you alone are responsible for the genocide of your people is a torment I could never escape. From the moment you set foot inside that city dome, you’ve borne the same pain and guilt.”
I swallow hard. He’s right. Guilt is a tyrant I cannot escape, caging me in a prison of my own making. It’s been almost a month since I was forced to take Teo’s life, and the memory of what happened inside that chamber still makes me horribly sick.
Theodus whirls, shuffling away slowly. Without thought, I follow. We reach the other end of the practice room, where a large mirror takes up the entire breadth of the concrete wall. Theodus stands before it, examining his own reflection for a moment. I watch him all the while, my breath echoing in the fallen silence. The man in the mirror is no longer the Lucis I saw when I first arrived on the base. His face is too drawn, his cheekbones too sunken, with dark shadows dulling his eyes and skin. He wears a noose instead of a crown. He is a Lucis royal in name only, a Scion by blood, and a prisoner in every sense.
“For so long, I believed the horror would never end,” he says, cutting through my thoughts. “Hope was a slave man’s key. I had none. Then you came along.” He studies me in the mirror, a subtle smile warming his gaunt features. “So forceful were you, I kept awake through the nights. But it wasn’t until the night of the fire, the night Archives Hall burned, that the divination truly formed. The truth you discovered inside that chamber wasn’t what you’d hoped for, but it was one that set you on a path of vengeance. Vengeance against those who took your mother from you.” He turns, and the look on his face sends a tremor through me. “I’ve seen your rage, Sloane. I know where it leads.”
My pulse quickens. Now that Theodus knows what I’m planning, will he hand me over to the Lucis? After all, he is still Olympia’s seer, one bound by duty to thwart any imminent attack on the royal bloodlines. Yet, when I force myself to stare up at him, I frown at the hope shining, unbridled, in his eyes.
“I know you think this is a fight for revenge.” His voice is low but firm. “Truly, it is a fight for freedom, Sloane. For our people. For every child who no longer has to face the doom of conscription. For the little girl who traded her freedom for family. For the friends you’ve lost, and the ones awaiting execution in the shadows of a prison cell.”
Jericho and Nazanin. My heart seizes, haunted by the guilt I’ve felt since the moment I abandoned them inside those tunnels. It’s the worst thing I could have done, a regret I’ll live with for the rest of my life. But if there’s even a sliver of a chance that I could still save them, a way to right my wrongs, I have to take it.
“You really think I can free them?” I ask, looking desperately at the seer.
Theodus leans close, and the expression on his face changes, replaced by grim determination. “Sloane, you can free us all.”
Fire burns in his eyes. Steel hardens his voice.
“There will be no peace as long as the Lucis continue to rule. So long as the monarchy still stands, we will always remain buried in the mud. It’s why I let Ascellus die when the Blades came for him. It is for the same reason I’ve chosen not to warn the bloodlines of your impending visit.”
Something in his gaze heats my blood, fanning the flame already burning inside me.
“What exactly are you saying?” My pulse pounds in my ears.
“Whether or not you find victory in your mission is a darkness I can’t see beyond,” he admits. “But if Olodumarè should shine favor upon you, if you should succeed where so many have failed, then you, my dear, could be the fire that sets this world ablaze.”
Àse crackles in my veins the more Theodus speaks. But it’s his final words that sear into my mind long after he leaves.
“When the legends of heroes are told,” he says, “they won’t just remember you, Sloane Folashadé. They will fear your name.”
The rest of the day goes by in a blur of simulation drills, close combat, and hours of strategy and tactics in desert warfare. With deployment only a week away, Faas shifts the focus of our training, so most of the day is spent honing our knowledge of advanced artillery, aircraft, and the harsh, changing terrain of the Sahl. Though I try my best to remain alert, vigilant, my mind wanders back to Theodus and the mission to King’s Isle.
That night, I lie awake in my bunk and wait for sleep to find me. It never does. Instead, I end up staring at the cracked ceiling of my quarters as Amiyah snores a few feet away.
The conversation with the seer is still a lingering buzz in my head. While I’ve only just met him, I believe everything Theodus told me. After all, he’s just like me. Another Scion trapped beneath the weight of a monarchy, abused and chained, a pawn to prolong its reign. The bloodlines thought they could mold him, turn everything they hate into a weapon only they can wield. It’s the worst kind of savagery, but I expect nothing less from these bastards. Too bad the gods have other plans.
You can free us all. Those were Theodus’s words, born from the divinations Orunmila himself has shown to him. Long ago, I asked Mama if the gods would ever return, to fight for us, take back everything the Lucis stole. Now I know the gods are truly here. They guide my path. With them at my side, freedom will be ours in a week.
It’s past midnight when a knock comes on my door. Amiyah stirs in her sleep, but not enough to wake as I edge closer toward the door, unaware of what awaits me on the other side.
An army of guards? The commanders? My hand quivers as I turn the handle a little, cracking the door open an inch.
Instead, I’m staring up at a familiar silhouette, keen green eyes alight in the shadows of the hallway.
“Dane?” My heart knocks against my ribs at the sight of him. On instinct, I turn my gaze on the corridor, peering uneasily into the darkness. Still, there are no soldiers or commanders at the ready. Breathing low, I glance up at him, my brows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”
In the week since I last saw the squad leader, he’s grown a faint stubble, the sparse cluster of hair dotting his jawline. When he looks down at me, a strange shadow stirs behind his expression. Whatever he’s been through this past week has left a visible strain on him.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he murmurs, his dark features searching mine.
I frown, silently aware of my thudding pulse. “It’s past curfew.”
“So?”
I hold his gaze, unsure. Yet, something in his eyes tugs at my curiosity, beckoning to me. After one week of his absence, even beneath all of my hatred, I’m ashamed of how much I desire his presence. At the thought, my chest gives a slight lurch, a traitorous admission I’m quick to dismiss. Besides, I know I won’t fall asleep tonight, not with Theodus’s words still parading in the depths of my mind. My nerves are a twitching mess, and I’ve already run through everything the seer said too many times to count. Perhaps I could use this distraction, even if it comes in the form of Dane.
I draw a shaky breath and grab my uniform jacket. “Lead the way.”
Thirty-Five
“The cliffs?”
Moonbeams fall upon the jagged rocks, casting bright stripes across the dull gray stones. On the other side, ocean waves slap against the high bluffs, the salty breeze cool on my bare skin. The last time I was up on these hills, I traversed a chasm with nothing but a thick cord of rope gripped between my fingers. Even though it was almost a month ago, the memory of the first Physical still sets my teeth on edge.
“It’s my favorite spot on the base,” Dane says softly.
He brushes past me and starts up the slope. I gulp down a few breaths before climbing up after him, my legs trembling the farther up we go, until we’re standing seventy feet above the churning waters. Starlight shimmers off the waves. From this height, they look like fireflies in the night, sprinkled silvers to illuminate the vast ocean beyond.
“I can see why,” I murmur. Now that I’m not dangling helplessly in the air, seconds away from plummeting to my death, I look on in mesmerized wonder.
Dane settles down on the ledge and rubs his hands along his thin fatigues. “When I’m up here, I feel like I’m worlds away from everything happening down there.”
His words hang in the space between us, thick and heavy with meaning. With a sigh, I lower myself beside him, my palms flat against the cool surface. Together, we turn our gazes outward, staring at nothingness with a calmness unlike any I’ve felt in a long time.
Next to me, Dane’s chest rises and falls at a steady pace, small wisps of breath pushing past his lips. Whatever shadows lurked behind his gaze back in the squad quarters are long gone, replaced by a peaceful stare that thaws his cold features. In the week since he’s been away, I’ve amassed more than a dozen questions in my head. Now that he’s here, mere inches from me, I can’t bring myself to ask any of them. My nerves keep me mute, and I wait for him to speak instead.
“When I was growing up, my parents traveled a lot.” His voice is low as he stares out at the horizon. “Every time they returned home with stories of their adventures, I remember thinking: One day, I’m going to do the same. See the world beyond these walls.”
“Where would you go?” I ask, glancing sidelong at him.
“There’s a faraway island my parents often spoke of,” he says. “Satafri. They came across it during one of their expeditions, just below the southern ruins of the continent. My father said it was unlike anything he’d ever seen. The mountains, waterfalls, and coastlines. He said the sunsets of Satafri were like a festival of colors that went on every night.”
There’s warmth in his words as he speaks, enough to draw me in, filling my imagination of the distant land with light and wonder and freedom. A far cry from the darkness and ruin that is Fort Regulus.
“Sounds like a dream,” I whisper when he finishes.
He nods once, his jaw working slightly.
“Perhaps it’s not too late.” Truth is, if Dane wanted, he could leave Avalon behind. Unlike many of us, he could pick up and begin a different life someplace anew.
He tucks his knees up to his chest and shrugs. “In another life, maybe.”
Though his tone remains casual, his face is heavy with sadness so achingly familiar it gives me pause. Especially because growing up, I felt the same, knowing what I dreamed as a child would never be my future.
My fingers close around a smooth pebble. I toss it off the cliff into the waiting darkness. “When I was little, all I wanted was to become a wooden-wheeler champion.”
“What?” Dane tilts his head and looks at me fully. A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. In spite of myself, I linger on the curve of his lips a little too long. When he notices me staring, I glance away, teasing another pebble between my fingers.
“I had it all planned out,” I continue. “When I turned eighteen, I’d compete in the continental games and be the first female to win the wooden trophy.”
“Are you that good?” I meet his gaze again, only to find him still watching, waiting.
I nod with all the conviction I feel whenever I get a chance to speak about wooden wheeling. “I’m the best.”
His smile turns into a full grin that splits his face, and easy laughter escapes him. Even I can’t help but chuckle, releasing a bit of the tension in my body. Moonlight dances across his brown skin, and for a moment, we regard one another, a strange energy surging between us. It crackles in the air, clawing at the heat flaring through my body. My chest lurches in response, made worse by the fire ablaze in Dane’s eyes. If I stare any longer, I fear it might consume me. So I turn to the ocean, glance at my hands, all so I won’t have to look at his face. After what feels like an eternity, I clear my throat and return my attention to him.
“Uh, I heard you were sent on a mission to the Sahl,” I say too quickly. “How was it?”
Though he tries to mask it, his expression hardens. Now it’s his turn to pick at the pebbles around him, scratching each one against the rocky surface beneath us.
“They wanted me to help train a new crop of prisoners from the free nations,” he mutters, keeping his head bowed.
My brows pull into a frown. “I had no idea the Draft extended to the free nations.”
“Not officially.” Reluctantly, Dane lifts his chin and looks up at me, his features tightening. “Most of the prisoners are Nageans who were caught fleeing into their territories. The free nations are bound by treaty to turn them over to the army. They’re then sent to the Sahl to serve for life.”
“I see.” A bitter knowledge sweeps through me when I think about Teo and the freedom he believed he could have in Naine. If what Dane tells me is true, then there’s a chance Teo would have ended up back on the Sahl anyway, fighting the same war he tried to run from. If only I’d known what I know now before he fled. Perhaps we could have done so many things differently.
Beside me, Dane stirs. His eyes narrow, and a long silence passes between us as he traces faint strokes in the ground. He repeats the lines over and over, as if trying to lose himself in the distraction of it. Beneath his fatigues, muscles strain in his arms, cut by a row of fresh scars, all of them most likely earned while he was away. The swollen red ridges stand out starkly against his skin, oddly familiar in their pattern. Even in the darkness, I realize then what it is I’m looking at.
Burns.
At first, I don’t understand—until he starts to speak.
“The night I arrived on the Sahl, I was leading a small unit on a routine patrol when we were ambushed by insurgents. Scions.”
A sudden chill settles into my bones. The Shadow Rebels did that to him?
