Shard, page 17
part #2 of Cruelly Made Series
Rot glances at the crumbling shed. Soberly, he says, “She was dead. And all. So. What do we do now?”
Blood’s concentrating on keeping the Mages restrained but not dying. The Aegis is sobbing into Crystal’s chest. She has given up trying to get a hold of the Aether and just comforts him instead. Her familiar is back in snake form, coiled around her upper arm. Her grief and despair sinks against him like she’s snuggled behind him.
He recoils. He shouldn’t feel that. He doesn’t want to feel her grieving. It pleads with all those locked, secret doors inside him he’d thrown away the keys to years ago.
Her snake lifts its head and flicks its tongue at him.
The snake gleams, each scale made of conjured crystal, and with beautiful, large blue eyes. The tip of its tail is a solid crystal shard. It has the slightly pointed snout, deep sensor pits, and distinctive checkerboard pattern on its underbelly of a highly venomous family of snakes that live out in the blighted marshes and lands of the Empire. The sort of snake that, if you get bitten, simply sit down and wait. It won’t be long.
She’s their Shard.
It’s the only explanation for all of this. The bonds have formed. Somehow, some way, she’s so outrageously powerful she really is a Shard, and the rest of the team needed it to happen, so they’d been open to it and had not resisted.
Could it… really be that?
If it is, Blood and Rot still don’t see it. Blood doesn’t want to, and Rot doesn’t believe him. But Shards don’t bind, although her emotional turmoil is rubbing his soul like you’d expect a splinter or pebble in a boot to do.
He senses the creepy, oily edges of the Blight around him. He thirsts to touch her Aether, caress her, sink into her, taste her like she is fresh, clear water.
Wanting things is dangerous. Wanting people is even worse. That kind of want is what let the Blight in. Hunger creates weakness because eventually you’ll put anything in your face when you get hungry enough.
He yanks his attention back to Rot. Smoke puts his hands on his hips and scuffs his toe on the stones. “The other Aether guards will be along soon. We’ll turn these Aethers over to them.”
Crystal’s voice trembles. “The Warden was right. I killed another Aether.”
Smoke tries to think of some piece of Scripture, or something, to tell her.
But he finds nothing: she is right.
She had killed another Aether.
23
Crystal
I’ve killed more Aethers. The Warden was right. Not just if, but when. When I killed another Aether.
This time I damaged a serving team.
Blood and Smoke and Rot had managed to get them out, and incapacitated them. Maybe it wouldn’t be too late.
But they will never be the same again, even if they do survive.
Their careers are over. Their lives might be over. Their souls might be over.
Why do I keep destroying Aethers?
I hadn’t been able to reach any of them. Not even a little bit. Not even a brush of wings, no matter how hard I had tried.
“It’s not your fault,” Blood is telling me for the millionth time as I stare at the wall of our cell.
“Yes, it is,” I say softly.
“How is it your fault that the Blight got ahead of Frost? They didn’t have to pick a fight with us,” Blood says, aggravated and shifting in my awareness. “They knew what we were doing, and they wanted to punish you. You did Frost a favor anyway.”
“The Warden won’t see it that way,” Smoke says from his usual corner. He’s been more cryptic and silent than usual. He hasn’t spoken in a while. His voice sounds strange to hear when I can sense how much he doesn’t want to speak.
“The Warden can fuck himself,” Rot mutters, but he’s uneasy and looks sideways at Blood.
Blood’s petal dragon flickers and slithers and the little dragon flutters in his face, then curls up in the palm of his hand. Blood strokes the creature with one finger. “The military is going to show up. We’re going to have to be prepared to claim she’s our Shard when that happens.”
Smoke grimaces. Rot looks uneasy.
“I know we aren’t ready,” Blood shoots Smoke a look I can’t read, “but we’ll have to fumble through. If Pebbles can convince them she’s an Aether Crystal Shard, they aren’t going to give a shit about an unimportant dead Frost.”
“I don’t know, Blood,” Rot says. “It’s more than just a dead Frost. It’s a ruined Aether team too.”
“The military and Academy has everyone up their ass about Pebbles. But if she can make them think that a Crystal Aether can be a Fell Shard? They won’t let this get in the way of that.”
“And you promise I’ll never have to use my magic again.” I huddle up into a little ball, arms tucked between my drawn-up knees.
“You just have to do enough to convince everyone you’re a Shard. Once we’re out of here, pick up your sword and let’s go find where they stashed your horses and armor. Pinky swear that you never have to use your magic again.” Blood raises one pinky. His dragon is curled around it, then scampers up into Blood’s hair, where it grabs handfuls of hair, kneading it like a cat and making purring noises.
Blood puts his fingers under my chin, gently, artfully. “You might be dangerously powerful, Crystal, but you’re the bravest, stupidest, most pure-hearted Mage I’ve ever had the misfortune of dealing with.”
“Thanks, I think?”
“Can you fake being our Shard for us long enough to get us out of here?”
“What about ScatheFire?” I whisper.
Rot curses under his breath, and Smoke looks somewhere else.
“I know he’s alive, Blood,” I say. “We can’t just leave him here.”
“I know you don’t want his life on your ledger,” Blood says as gently as he’s ever said anything. “But you’ve destroyed or killed five Aethers. How many more are there? Honestly?”
I close my eyes.
“How many have you killed?” Blood whispers, moving so close his hair becomes a curtain for just the two of us. “Tell me.”
“Are we sharing secrets now?” I whisper.
“If I look in your service record, will it be there?”
“No.”
“What did you do?” he asks.
The agony twists out of the closed door in my mind. “The Warden’s right. I just keep…”
“Crystal. What did you do? How much do we have to cover for you?”
I shake my head. “Three more on the front. Their Aegis had died and they got infected… nobody knows I did it.”
I’d never felt guilty about it until today. I’d just felt terrible about it. I’d done for them what we’re trained to do: don’t let an Aether get turned.
“The Warden’s right,” I whisper. “I find a way to kill my own kind.”
“We are going to get out of here, and we are going to go far away, where they will never send any other Aether,” Blood promises. “And we will keep you safe.”
Rot kneels on my other side. He doesn’t speak. He touches my leg.
I have to let ScatheFire go. I can return three Fells to the front at the cost of one Fell. I can restore order to the court. I can be useful, and maybe figure out the way I am so the next time a Crystal student shows up like me the Academy will know what to do.
I’ve never had a problem doing what I’ve got to do, except this one time, when everything is telling me he’s alive.
“Promise me one thing,” I say softly to Blood. “And I know it’s going to be hard for you.”
Blood kisses me lightly.
Warmth zips along my aching soul. He presses closer. What is he doing? I already hurt so much. But this doesn’t feel like he’s toying with me. I hesitate, pulling my tongue back and going still out of habit as my heart pounds. If he wants sex after everything, I won’t fight him.
He pulls away. His throat moves as if to speak, but he doesn’t say anything.
Why was he kissing me? I don’t dare ask, because I don’t think he knows, and it caught him off guard too. I’m not exactly the most kissable or fuckable person.
And I had just killed someone.
“If I’m too dangerous, you have to kill me,” I say. “Give me your word you’ll put me down like a dangerous horse.”
His little petal dragon purrs anxiously and kneads the handfuls of hair its holding. Blood’s expression doesn’t change. His eyes are such a dark red. I want to touch his face and get closer, peer into their depths, but don’t let myself.
I’m dangerous. I’m a monster. I don’t want to be, I don’t try to be, but I am. I didn’t hesitate to shove my sword into Frost. I can tell myself I needed to do it to save her soul, but I did it, and I don’t even have the decency to feel bad about it.
The Warden’s right: I’m a monster. It’s not if I will kill another Aether, it’s when.
I’ve killed four, and destroyed four more.
Blood doesn’t respond.
“Once we’re out of here, I mean,” I add. “If you promise me that, and promise you’ll keep people safe from me, I’ll clean your saddles, you can fuck me whenever you want, I’ll marry one or all of you, have your babies, whatever you want. But promise me.”
Smoke makes an acrid sound.
Blood’s schooled face bends in a frown. He’s fighting the frown, but the skin at the corner of his dark eyes folds, and his breath is more shallow. He pushes away from me and storms into the center of the cell. “You didn’t murder Frost. You put her down because her own damn team was too weak to do it. It’s not your fault. You didn’t turn her.”
“She was down there because of me.”
“She tried to get between you and your right to have a familiar,” Blood snaps. “We have a right to a familiar. It’s the one thing any of us are allowed to say is ours. That Frost wasn’t down there rounding up a prisoner. She was down there grinding out punishment on your bones, and that’s why the Blight ate her, and you saved her. Don’t let the Warden twist your mind.”
“He was right. I killed another Aether.”
“You think the Aethers that are assigned here are the good Aethers? They’re one step from ending up here permanently.”
“Promise me,” I insist.
Blood looks at Rot and Smoke. Then he says, “Fine. We’ll promise to kill you if you start to go crazy. But we’re not going to promise to stop you from killing things that need to die.”
“But—”
“It’s not your fault,” Blood growls. “Don’t you understand you were treated badly? Fells know about bad treatment. You’re just the scapegoat for everyone else’s fuck-ups.”
“Because I deserve it.”
Smoke’s got his arms crossed, leaning one shoulder on the wall, and one toe resting on the stones. His eyes are smokey and dark. “You want us to promise to do for you what you did for Frost.”
“Thank you,” Blood tells Smoke.
Smoke’s expression practically smolders. “That we will promise.”
I open my mouth to argue for more.
Smoke’s gaze darkens another notch. “Nothing else.”
“Fine,” I say after a moment to weigh my options. As usual, I have no real options. “But if you’re just using me to breed little noble brats on the other side of this, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Oh, we’re going to do that,” Blood says with a smirk. He grasps my face in both of his hands, and kisses me lightly. “Maybe one of us, maybe all of us, who knows? But first we’ve got to get there.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were starting to like me.” My voice trembles. Or maybe he just likes fucking with me. I can never tell with him.
“Well, I like you,” Rot says, shooting Blood a hell of a glare. Blood glares back and releases my face. Rot’s glare intensifies, but he asks Smoke, “So you have an idea for the next play? Since Blood’s blood is all in his cock, but he won’t admit it.”
Blood looks down at himself. “I beg to differ.”
“How much magic is causing that begging? Admit it, she’s under your skin.”
“I admit nothing.” Blood practically tosses his hair.
Because of course he doesn’t. That’d be trading secrets, and Blood will never share secrets with me, nor will Smoke. But Blood will just pretend he doesn’t have any, while Smoke will never let me share his.
And yet, somehow, they’re peeling my secrets away from me.
I rub the old scar on my arm.
“The Warden will come soon to rant over his dead Aether Mage,” Smoke says, eyes narrowed and hooded. “The military will hear about it. They’ll come here. When they show up to interrogate us, we say she was consecrating her familiar and we’re ready for her to demonstrate how she is our Shard. We’ll tell them that they were correct: a sufficiently powerful and well-trained Crystal Mage paired with sufficiently powerful and well-trained Fells can become a Shard. We’ll get thrown into the ring to demonstrate it, which we will, and they’ll let us out. The Warden can then proceed to suck his own dick.”
24
Crystal
I’m not sure about Smoke’s plan, but Blood and Rot seem to think it’s solid.
Rot and I sit cross-legged on his bunk. We’re playing a hand-tapping game that children play, but a mess of the different ones all mixed together.
“Your hands are so much bigger than mine.” With my palm pressed flat into his, it’s obvious how much bigger his hand is. “Hell, Rot. Were you the runt that got fed at Academy, or did you come out this big?”
He smiles, a little shyly. “Always been big.”
We break hands apart, and I hold up mine, one higher than the other. Tap, tap, miss, tap, cross, tap, swipe, toss, miss, miss, miss.
I block his hand with my wrist, then shoot forward with my other and tap him on the head. “Tag.”
“Damnit. How do you do that?” He rubs his forehead.
“Stop watching my tits,” I suggest.
“I can’t help it,” he admits. “They’re just so nice.”
“I guess they are pretty with all that Aether in them.”
“The Aether just makes them nicer.” His voice warms.
“Your turn.” I offer him my hands. “Gentleman’s choice of what he want game he wants to play.”
Blood chokes on laughter.
Rot blushes like a schoolboy.
“Has he always been this bashful?” I ask Blood.
Mirth oozes from Blood’s tone. “Only for you, pretty Aether. I don’t think he knows what to do with a woman who should be sweet and dainty, but has such a dirty penchant for cock and spankings. Come over here, we can give him a demonstration.”
“No,” I tell Blood primly. “Your ego is quite large enough, thank you.”
Blood rolls his eyes towards Smoke. “You do win any way this ends, don’t you.”
Smoke smirks.
The first gate grinds open.
Blood groans. “Grand. Cock-blocked by the Blight. Again.”
The Warden comes to our cell with a Priest, and the other team of Aether Guards. The Aether Guards carry restraints.
“Crystal,” the Warden says, voice edged with a growl. “Step forward.”
“She’s our Shard,” Blood holds out his arm to stop me from moving, “you can’t take her from us.”
“So you think she’s your Shard?” the Warden’s lips twist in a grin. “I think not.”
“I don’t think your opinion matters. We both know as soon as you tell the military about the dead Frost they’re going to come looking for her.” I’ve never heard Blood’s voice so very, very cold.
“I’m sure they will. I just haven’t told them yet.”
“You haven’t reported an Aether death?” I ask. “And that a whole Aether team got compromised?”
The Warden’s smile is almost as cold as Blood’s voice. “The mail takes time. There’s no rush, is there?”
Technically, there is. The other Aether team looks at me like they want to kill me. And they probably do. I turn towards the Fells, and whisper, softly, as my familiar transforms into snake form and slithers up my neck to be like a scarf, “Let it happen.”
“No,” Rot whispers. “Fuck this guy and—“
“Don’t,” I tell him softly. “Please don’t.”
“Take one of us.” Blood steps forward. “We haven’t had the tour of your fine establishment. The way to break her may be to break one of us, since she doesn’t give a shit about herself.”
The Warden’s smile is so cold. “Punish innocent residents? I think not. This Mage here has a nasty tendency to butcher her own kind in the worst ways. It requires punishment. I will not deny the Mages the pleasure of knowing she is being punished for killing Frost. And I remind you, Fells, that one wrong step and the military will leave you all here.”
The threat hits home with all three of them: the Fells cling to we will get out.
I throw my shoulders back. The Warden wants to play some more games? Fine. I’ll endure it. I have to get the Fells out of here. The military will come soon. Maybe not this week. Or next. But they will come.
I just have to carry everyone until then.
I tell the Warden, “I will go quietly to whatever tea party you have planned.”
“No,” Blood hisses.
I grab his shirt collar and twist. “The Warden can’t return me to the military in bad condition. It’ll be fine. Let him do whatever he’s going to do. It won’t be that bad.”
“Solitary was pretty damn bad.” Blood leans into my fist.
Rot says, “We’ll fight them. We won’t let them take you.”
“And then what? We escape and become fugitives? That’s not what you guys want. What happens if I kill again? You’re all innocent and haven’t committed any crimes. I have. I can handle it. I have my familiar with me this time too.”
I shudder thinking about the little mutated puppy he’d let lick me.
He might do that again. He might use me to create some powerful Blightlings. He will torment me. He will make me pay for killing Frost, and when the military shows up demanding to see me, he’s going to have some more explaining to do, especially if my Aether is damaged.
