If only you knew what role you are to play, Finn, my love. What Val won’t tell you. About the coming storm to Kalderim and your family. “I’m sorry, Finn. But I can’t just let her go. She’s my daughter. Cad is lost to me, probably for eternity. Brynn is the only family I have left.”
“You know that isn’t true.” The hurt in the elfir’s voice only exacerbated the problem.
“You’re both my family. You know what I meant.” Cad… I… please don’t forget why I did this to us. For all the trials he had faced and overcome, his heart broke for what his beloved must’ve undertaken, what she was forced to do under the pall of the Fallen. “Finn,” his voice quivered. “You know I trust you with my life.” He did mean it. Some things he had to keep to himself, no matter how much it hurt him. He couldn’t abide a second broken heart. “But this is bigger than both of us. You know what Brynn is. What she’s capable of. We need her. I need her.”
Finn reached for Emre’s trembling hands. “Gods above, I know, love.” The radiant smile that had captured Emre’s heart returned. “I accept your apology. You owe me, though. And I can think of a few things, some that might be nas… nah, I’ll not spoil the fun.”
Emre grinned despite himself. Despite his heart already rending.
“You two lovebirds done grousing over hurt feelings in here?” Wick asked from the hallway.
“In fact, we were just waiting for you to show up to begin our grousing,” Finn shot back.
“Pound slag, needle dick.”
Emre was thankful for the lapin’s intrusion, as it was getting harder for him to still the pain inside. He put on his blank face, the visage of the Gutter King. “It’s time, Finn. You must get in place long before us.”
“What, no joint shower as a make-up?” When Emre didn’t budge, Finn huffed in mock disappointment. “Fine, be that way. Those detonators won’t get to Gargantua on their own, eh?”
Finn and Wick retreated from the room while Val moved beside him in the mirror. She had put her goggles back in place and began to comb her fingers through her hair, but there was a melancholy about her.
“What else did you see, Val?” Her goggles were nothing but black tints, although a small crease formed between her brows, her hand stopping within the silver. “When you summoned Tevun from the Meadows. Did the Virtuous One give you any glimpse of Cad? Of her soul? Did Bliss speak to you?”
Void Form left residues of one’s soul in the Meadows because it harnessed Death itself, borne of Noctis in the Pit. Every rune drawn in blood created the link between the realm of the living and that of the dead. Fragments of a soul were but the recompense. And for a scourge lost in the sway of Void Form as his beloved Cadrianna, her soul was bound to the Meadows.
Cad…
“I’m not sure,” the bikrome answered in her whispery tone. “I saw only fleeting glimpses of her soul and that was only because of her withering links to Tevun’s. She is bound in darkness. Lies, I believe. They encase her like a tomb. But there is more, Em. Her soul isn’t just bound to Nocturne, but that of something greater. It won’t be easy to break that bond. It will have to come from her should she pass the bond.”
“They protect her, the lies. We’ve seen firsthand what the Fallen is capable of.” He fought down the urge to scratch his arms. “It will be the same unto her. The blade does complicate matters. Unforeseen, this is, but at least we now know the truth. The First Wife has claimed her.”
“She isn’t ready cede her comfort. The lies are wrapped so tightly around her; it is going to take more than what you have planned. There is but one path that will lead her astray and into redemption. The Godsblood will wake her and then will break her.”
“We won’t lose her this time, Val.”
“Always so confident. You didn’t see the fear inside of Cadrianna’s soul. You didn’t feel her pain. I felt it that day when she was taken by Lu Har and Solanine. I feel it every time I go into the Meadows to commune with Bliss.” The bikrome shivered, rubbing her bare arms.
Emre hugged her tightly. She was cold, her skin like the ice of Kanja. “I don’t have to see, I know it. She’s hurting. And I won’t leave her. Either of them.”
“I fear more for Brynn than for Cadrianna, though both hurt equally.” Val laid her head on his shoulder. They stood in silence for a while, just lost in their own thoughts before Val spoke again. “Will the strength of your conviction follow you into the Meadows? For that is the only way you can guide her.”
“I… I hope so.”
“Hey now, he’s mine, dear sister-friend,” Finn declared as he strolled into the room once more, giving Emre the latitude to not respond further, for he didn’t know if the belief was strong enough. It had to be; it just did.
Finn wore a form-fitting black and red overcoat with loose sleeves, a black buttoned shirt tucked into impossibly tight dark trousers that accentuated some of his… finer qualities. Leather boots flipped at the knee completed the ensemble. The bruise on his face from the scourge’s attack had been covered with a light dusting of rouge; the small cut in his eyebrow had been hidden by darkened kohl blended into the hairs, while also concealed by a strategic placement of a lock of his silver hair, the rest tied back in a tail.
The third child of the Golden Throne did a dramatic twirl, though groaned as he raised his injured shoulder. “And the best dressed servant award goes to… me!”
Emre recalled the first moment he laid eyes on the elfir moments after being brought back to life. His love would always remain with Cadrianna, but Emre fell hard for that elfir right then and there. His heart carried the love for both, and soon would break in twain.
And it hurt him in the process. He had to remember the reasons to stay the course.
“Don’t get cocky, needle dick,” Wick grumbled as he pushed Finn out of the way. The lapin was dressed far more simply, a similarly colored tunic and pant. The sleeves rolled at the elbow and his boots cut just above the ankle of his paws. An outfit more apt for one working in the kitchens as opposed to being in view at the party.
“You remember the plan?” Emre dug into his pocket and pulled forth a small container. Within was a new prototype in vision technology crafted by some of the rebellion’s finest aetheurgists. The ingeniators would soil themselves in learning they hadn’t created them first.
“Like I could forget? I planned this part, remember, love?” He opened the container and drew forth two small circular lenses. Taking stock in the mirror, the elfir put on the false lenses, leaving only blue eyes with no yellowed pupil. “Buggers, these are uncomfortable.”
“Just like our escape from the mines?”
“I seem to remember that working out just fine.” Finn pulled free a tiny vial from his pocket and dabbed a floral perfume on both his wrists, then pocketed a wallet of parch, somehow fitting it into the tight trousers without it being conspicuous.
They embraced, Emre clutching the bigger elfir, their foreheads pressed against another, taking in his scent, remembering. Finn leaned down and gave him a deep kiss before pulling away, the knowledge of everything going to slag palpable in the air.
“Be safe, Finn.”
“And you, love.” The elfir turned, but not before a fraction of indecision crossed his face. Or was it sadness?
Does he know what was to come? He can’t, Val wouldn’t have told him, he wouldn’t be this cheerful if she did. I love you, Finnus. Forever. Don’t forget me.
Finn grinned. “Come on, Wick. Time for pay back.”
Emre and Val stood motionless. It was like half of Emre’s soul being ripped from him. Everything was about to come to a head, all the planning, all the hours making sure everything fell into place, all the coin spent on information or the gravy paying off the guards. It all was about to start. Death and fire waiting.
And yet, it could all unravel at any moment because so much balanced upon Cadrianna and Brynn.
“I won’t tell him,” Val said softly. “He can’t know beforehand, Em. It’ll break him if he knows. Like…” The bikrome tensed as if she wanted to say more but didn’t. Instead, she muttered, “I’m going to get ready.”
