Chapter Fourteen
I'd pictured this moment many times. Joseph and I leaving town, smiles on our faces, my head looking back with longing at the place I'd grown to adore beyond words. Longing, a desperation to return, to escape the YOI known as West-End. But now, now that the dream had become a reality, I saw how greatly my expectations and reality could differ.
Our heads were cast down, out of both woe and from an attempt to escape the searing rays of the sun. We trudged, very nearly dragging our exhausted feet through the dirt, and our lips curled down in sagging frowns. Our heads did not dare look back at that place—not a single time, not for a single moment.
But I reflected on that image, on that thought of Joseph and I looking back at the town in longing. I wondered why I should fantasize about an emotion such as longing. To think of it is one thing, as thoughts seem to come and go as if they had minds of their own--but to fantasize about it? To actively desire that state? That place among all the other possibilities and fantasies?
I could have imagined myself content or happy or utterly exuberant. I could have pictured myself living in town. Ruling over town. Being a king, a monk, or even a god. Yet what I chose was to long. In that brief period of time, my mind chose desire over satisfaction. It chose to think of longing rather than happiness.
It seemed like madness to put to words, but in the form of thoughts, in the stream of the mind still unburdened by the bane of labels and preconceptions, it felt like desire, satisfaction, happiness, and longing were all different ways to say the same thing, to drive to the same point, yet a passion held deep in my gut screamed at me that they were all different, to the degree that they could not all be held together, and that to believe otherwise was to be deceived. But, deceived by what?
This final question faded away, leaving only apathy. A hovering sense of pointlessness.
Maybe, I thought, the answer to my question was hidden somewhere in this feeling that had come seemingly out of nowhere, this sense of emptiness, but I was too tired to probe deeper. Too tired to cared. Too ready to return to West-End and begin suffering anew.
Ready to suffer all over again.... I thought listlessly.
“Fancy runnin' into you here!”
Joseph and I turned around. Approaching us at a jogging pace was Blon, Ant, and Lucky.
I looked toward Joseph, to read his expression, to know how to feel. His eyes had widened a bit, partially in surprise, but there was another sensation there, a sort of alertness.
“Small, small, small world,” Blon said with a smile. “Never thought I'd see you comin' from town, Joseph. You know,” he leaned forward, and spoke like he were sharing a secret. “There are some people who don't like the Ploko all too much, you might wanna think about-”
“-Yeah, whatever.” Joseph cut him off and turned his head away.
Ant cackled like a maniac.
“E-Excuse me?” Blon said with a crooked look.
“I said go away.” Joseph responded, his head still turned.
“I think he's serious!” Ant said between breaths. “He's actually serious!”
Blon's jaw set and his face went deathly serious, looking strained and angry at all corners. “Listen,” he spit a bit in Josephs's face with the word, and then pulled away. “I was just saying it for the little kid's sake, you selfish idiot.”
What? For my sake?
Joseph turned to face him, his eyes as wide as they had been before, but now all the surprise was gone.
“Yeah, I'm talkin' about your lil' furry boyfriend over here, cock-breath. What? What? Something wrong you backdoor Ploko? Did I say something to offend you?”
Joseph's jaw shifted around in his mouth and his eyes gleamed.
My heart pounded heavily in my chest. Blon's lips were curled in an uncharacteristic frown, and his hands were balled into fists.
Of all the days, I thought. Of all the days for both of them to be in horrible moods....
“Are you mad about something? Maybe that I pointed out your lil' gay relationship with the lil' Koshy thing over there? You gross piece of dirt you think I don't know?”
Joseph's expression slowly turned to one of confusion. Ant's expression shimmered with amusement.
“Good Gaol.” Blon said with feigned shock. “A pedophile and a gay. What a shame it would be if I was forced by my better senses to tell everybody back at West-End the truth. The gross, disgusting truth!”
It was hard to say exactly when the transition occurred, but at some point, Joseph had gone from his alert, 'ready' expression, to looking like somebody had punched him directly in the chest. His mouth hung open, and his eyes gleamed in the sunlight. His chest pushed out from a deep breath he'd been holding in for some time, and he took in a sharp breath. Beyond the shock, there was something akin to terror in his expression now. The sort that drives a man to look to stare at the object of his horror with unflinching confidence and focus.
“Yeah, yeah,” Blond went on. “Quite the situ-”
“-Sh-Shut up!” I yelled. “Just shut up already!”
Blon looked over at me with wide eyes. “Well.” He said with a pause. “The midget can speak. Boys, it is a miracle. I've cured a mute! Praise be to Gaol!”
“Shut. UP!” I screamed. “If anybody's gay here, it's you!”
Blon's sardonic expression melted away.
Ant burst out laughing, so hard that he immediately collapsed to his knees, struggling for breath.
Blon looked at me as if he saw a ghost. A ghost he severely disliked and possibly wanted to exorcise.
“...Gaol is real boys! Gaol is real! Because only Gaol could create some sick nonsense like this!” Ant exclaimed in high humor.
“Shut up.” Blon barked back. He turned to me with a forced smile. “I'm sure you already know I can't let that go without punishment, right?”
I had thought no moment could surpass the sheer terror and exhilaration of the instant after I'd yelled my curse, but Blon's sudden approach proved me wrong. I stood locked to the spot, looking up at him as if he were death manifest come to take me away.
I remember a series of words going through my mind.
Joseph
No
Please
Gaol
But no sentences. No phrases or any real meaning. Just words. Words without any importance. How could anything have importance when I was moments away from being thrashed?
Blon came so close to me I could smell the rot of his breath. I took an instinctive step back, and as my body moved, his hand went forward and slapped me in the face with one quick, hard motion, more like an open-handed punch than a slap.
“You think it's funny to-”
And then I saw Joseph from the corner of my eyes. I was too afraid to look over at him, and even if I hadn't been, what happened next happened so quickly I'm not sure I could have caught it. Joseph launched forward like a wolf onto a rabbit, with a speed only he could manage on two legs, and he struck Blon right in the side of the head.
Blon fell to the ground like a stone. His limpness lasted just long enough for me to wonder if he'd gone unconscious, but he started scrambling to his feet a moment later.
Ant laughed even louder--if such a thing were possible.
Is this possible? Those words traveled through my head, but I wasn't sure what I was questioning the possibility of. Maybe it was Joseph's attack. Maybe it was that Blon's friend had actually laughed watching his friend get punched in the head. Maybe it was something impossible to put into words.
“Oh you are gonna regret that you yarbage scum!” Blon screeched, one hand on his head.
Joseph stood there, his chest heaving, his fists trembling. His tense expression told me little about how he was feeling, about how he felt, but his pursed lips made it seem as though he planned on carrying out this fight to completion.
The moment Joseph steadied himself and persed those serious, fighter's lips, Ant walked up from the side; so quickly and with such long strides from his freakishly long legs that I didn't even have time to warn Joseph he was coming. Before I could utter a word, the smiling giant kicked Joseph in the back of the knee.
Joseph's leg gave out like it was nothing, and he emitted a high-pitched, boyish, almost feminine sounding cry. That sound penetrated me to the core, reminding me very suddenly of the reality of the situation.
Joseph's head hit the ground and Ant put his foot forcibly against Joseph's neck, a smile still on his crooked lips. Joseph looked frazzled from the impact, but he recovered quickly. He pawed helplessly at Ant's ankles, but whenever he tried to punch or scratch—with the bloody stubs that were once claws—Ant pressed down harder.
“Stupid, dirty, Koshy, Ploko scum!” Blon said rubbing the side of his head. He meandered over and sat down on Joseph's belly, and then began punching him in the cheeks, switching fists after every hit.
I yelped with the first noise, and flinched with the subsequent ones, until my body became so tense I could no longer react.
After a few punches, Blon began to slap him and yell. “What? What's wrong? You want to hit me again? You want to hit me, eh? You want to hit me, yeah? Yeah? Yeah?? Yeah?!”
He slapped him with every yeah, hitting him like how he'd hit me, more like a punch than a slap, but with far more force.
“You are a stupid idiot who just will... not... learn...his...place!
Ant laughed out loud again.
“Aw, look Ant, he's crying. The stupid Ploko is crying. I guess he is a baby too!” He slapped him again. He paused, and then looked up. “Hey, what's wrong, Lucky? Don't you wanna get a few hits in?”
I looked over at Lucky and suddenly remembered he was still there.
“No, no, I'm good.”
“...You sure?” Blon asked with more than a little force. “You're not a bitch, are you?”
“N-No, No, nothin' like that. I'm just good. Don't wanna get my hands dirty or get any blood on my clothes....”
“Ugh!” Blon turned away. “Bitch. Speaking of bitches.... Don't you ever... put your dirty... Kosky... stubs ...on me again!” With the last smack, Blon brought his hand back and hit Joseph as hard as he could, this time eliciting the snapping sound I associated with slaps.
Blon got up and Ant removed his foot from Joseph's neck.
Joseph lurched forward, coughing harder than I'd ever seen a person cough. In his struggle for air, he turned to his side and started to dry-heave. He alternated between these things for awhile until the dry-heaving stopped, and then eventually the coughing. His fingers slipped around his sore neck and he fell back on his back, spittle running down his lips into the dirt, tears in his bloodshot eyes.
Thankfully, the three ignored me and left—all except Lucky, who shot me a wide-eyed expression that meant Gaol-knows-what before catching up to the other two. I rushed over to Joseph's side and sat there, behind him, rubbing him on his shoulder. I expected him to push me away, but he just lied there silently, his eyes closed, the tears on his cheeks glimmering in the bright light of the sun.
And then his eyes opened. He sat up, a look that had seemed terribly pained a moment ago suddenly looking foul.
“Come on,” he said. “Let's go.”
“...Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.” He started walking without looking back. “Let's just get out of here.”
“O-Oh. Okay.”
I followed him, each step in the hot sun taking an unreasonable effort. He limped a bit whenever he put pressure on the leg Ant kicked.
There was a lot I wanted to say, a lot I wanted to ask him about, but I was too afraid to speak.
The force he'd used to tell he was fine, the lethargic yet deliberate way he willed his body forward. He made me think of a man risen from the dead with some powerful intent. But what 'intent' could he possibly have?
Revenge seemed impossible. Escape seemed as unfathomable as it was pointless. Rushing back to West-End seemed like a bird trying to escape a storm by flying into a cactus.
Then again, maybe the cactus was just what Joseph wanted. The familiar sting of home.
I did my best to reflect on this as we walked, but the heat and the exhaustion and the pain and the depression and the hopelessness and every other poor and bitter thing I could use to describe my destitute conundrum culminated and left me feeling as if I were walking through a desert. As if I were a bird too, seeking my cactus nest.
One step after another. One foot in front of the other. Just do what Mrs. Shire told you... Just think about her.
One day I'd be free from this hellish prison. I'd be rich, and successful, and I wouldn't become like Ant or Blon or even Lucky. I'd be in a position where I could finally help Joseph, pay him back for all he'd done for me, and I'd meet up with Mrs. Shire again and show her all the good I'd done in my life and for other people.
I brought my head up and looked at Joseph. “Why do things have to be like this?” I asked suddenly
“I don't know,” He answered bruskly.
I spread my lips, as if I planned on saying more, but the words did not come.
When we got closer to West-End, to the point where Joseph's improvised trail had let us out, he came to a stop.
“Go back.” He said without looking at me.
“Huh?”
“Go back to West-End. I'll catch up later.” He moved toward where I assumed the trail opening was, his limp now completely faded away.
“B-But w-wait... where are you going? Why can't I co-?”
“-Just go back, yeah?” He answered harshly, but after a pause continued softly. “I just need to be alone for a little awhile.”
I looked down the trail, West-End still out of sight. I wondered which would be worse: the walking alone, or the arriving alone.
I swallowed. “O-Okay. I'll go alone...” I nearly whispered.
Without another word he disappeared into the woods.
I continued down the path, alone, my steps even slower than they had been before. Every few moments I stopped and turned around. My eyes went straight to the spot Joseph had disappeared, and when I got too far to see it any longer, my eyes still went to where I thought it was.
I can't, I said repeatedly. I could get lost.
I took a few more steps and stopped. I bit down on my lower lip.
Come on, stop being such a coward. He got beat up defending you; let him have his privacy... at least for a bit. You can't have him all the time. What would you do if something happened to him? Would you just lie there and die?
Without answering that question, I took a few more steps forward, but again, I stopped. I grinded my teeth together.
Damn it! I whipped around, facing the edge of the path. If I go back now, would I recognize it? I didn't recognize it on the way back from town, but surely I would this time...? I have to. I have to. I can't leave him alone like this.
Each step in the opposite direction filled me with a new emotion. At first, confusion, a question as to why and how I would dare distance myself further from my bed. My legs seemed to be the ones asking.
And then there was the question of my motivations. Is it because I am a coward? Or do I do it for Joseph? Out of a desire to not leave him alone? Or could it be both? This question came from deep in my chest.
And then there was a question that seemed to come from all points of my body, as well as from a place beyond which I could not pinpoint or truly fathom. Could I get lost? What would I do then? What would I do if I couldn't find him?
I entered the woods, right where Joseph had. I did recognize the spot, but I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
The brush was just as thick as it had been the first time, except now, without Joseph to warn me about thick or spiny spots, or tree logs felled on the ground and covered in weeds, the going was much tougher. And then there was that lingering sensation which I kept as far behind me as I could. The feeling of immensity I'd felt once before when left alone in the woods. The feeling that it was encroaching in upon me, consuming me....
I did my best to not think about it, to not give it even a single foothold in my mind. I knew the moment I let it occupy my thoughts, I'd panic, and I had no idea what would happen then. I just had to take one foot after another, to keep going, to pray I stayed on his tentative path, to pray Joseph eventually came into sight.
And then, like a bright light on a dark night, I saw him, glimmering and gleaming in this voracious atmosphere of hidden hives and hard angles. My heart heaved as if I were a shudder away from sobbing, and my feet, pained and exhausted, moved quicker, quicker than my mind could spot pitfalls, making it so I could only hope I did not trip.
It took a moment for me to realize there was something wrong with the picture. Joseph was in his training spot, in the big circle where he'd cleared out the leaves. He was on his hands and knees, his face toward the dirt. I slowed my pace, not wanting to be discovered immediately, but he heard me and looked over, eyes wide, alert and angry.
“Leo?” He asked, moving his head around and sitting up on his knees. “Is that you? That's you, yeah?”
I tentatively emerged from the final bush separating us.
“Oh,” he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Gaol don't do that. You scared the hell out of me, yeah...?”
“Sorry. I... I just didn't wanna leave you out here all alone.”
He shook his head and closed his eyes. After a few moments of silence, he chuckled. “Don't apologize. It's not your fault, yeah? I'm the one who left you. I... just didn't think about it, about how you were gonna have to walk back into West-End alone.”
“I-It's okay! You don't have to be there for me all the time or anything.”
Joseph grimaced. “I know I'm really messed up. And that I'm an idiot....”
“...Huh?”
“I know I'm really stupid and worthless, yeah? But I'm sorry. I shoulda known better then that. I just... I just needed some time, yeah? I needed a few minutes to just... put it all in order again, yeah?”
“...What do you mean?” I moved toward him and then stopped mid-step. “J-Joseph...?”
He didn't respond.
“...Why is there blood on the tree?” The tree he used for 'bone training' had a small red circle, part of it seeping down like oil.
He remained silent. I swallowed and spoke again:
“...Why is there blood on the tr-?”
“-Why wouldn't there be blood on the tree?” He hissed, suddenly sounding enraged.
“What...?” I took a step back in fear and surprise. “W-W-Why's your lip bloody...? Blon didn't do that.... What're you doing out here?”
“Don't act so surprised. I'm just doing what everybody else does. Yeah?” His voice rose as he hissed the last word. “Just doing what everybody else does, Leo. Just doing what everybody else does, Leo. Just doing what everybody else does, Leo! Just doing what everybody else does just doing what everybody else just doing what everybody else just doing what everybody else does! He punched the ground with his bloody fist with the last, and continued punching as he went on. “Just, doing, what, every, body, else, doessssss!”
“J-Joseph!”
Still on his hands and knees, he leaned down and pressed forward into the dirt between his fists. He groaned with pain and shuttered. Mud was now caked on his scraped up hands.
I ran over and kneeled down next to him.
“It doesn't matter, Leo.” His body seemed wobbly, and his voice was growing quieter. “You know that, yeah? That it doesn't matter? That nothing matters? That we're all gonna die?”
“Why are you talking like this? We're not gonna die.” Tears formed in my eyes.
“We're gonna die someday, yeah? And I hope it's soon. Oh, Gaol I hope it's sooooooon.” He body shuttered again. “I can't take this anymore. I can't take it. I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it....”
My lips pursed together and tears overflowed from my eyes. The only response I could give to this was a tight sob that forced it's way from my chest.
“You're crying for me again.”
Sobs forced their way out. I slipped down on to my knees and leaned against him. I reached out, paused for a second,--can I? I thought--and then I went forward, laying myself against his side, wrapping both of my hands around him, one around the front, one around the back. “Please don't die....”
He turned his head a bit.
“P-Please don't die,” I went on. “Please. Please. You c-can't....” I shook my head. “You can't, you can't, can't!” I hugged him tighter, the tears coming full force now, the words coming out between choked sobs. “I-I don't wanna be alone. I don't w-w-want y-you to die. I don't w-want you to ever die! Please!”
“Leo,” he uttered, his voice quivering. “We all have to die, yeah? Isn't it a good thing?”
“No!” I cried. “No, no, no! It's awful. It's awful. I don't want you to die; I don't want you to be alone. I don't want to die; I don't want you to die; I don't want a-anyone to die e-ever, ever again!”
“Gaol...” He chuckled. “You cry a lot, yeah?”
I sobbed harder, my tears soaking the fur of his back. “P-Please d-don't die before me.” His body stiffened. “Please don't leave me. Oh, Gaol, oh Gaol, oh Gaol, I'm scared. I'm really scared. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, Gaol....”
He sat up and turned to face me, his eyes alert, pristine, and glaring into mine with such intensity I was momentarily taken aback.
I looked back into his eyes, sniffling compulsively, my lips quivering uncontrollably. “I-I-I'm s-sorry...”
Joseph extended his arms and I went forward, but I couldn't say which happened first. All I knew was that suddenly, my entire body was encompassed in warmth and the crippling hole in the core of my torso felt bearable. He held me tight against his chest, holding me up so I didn't collapse into the dirt like an infant.
“I won't...” He whispered, chin hanging above my shoulder. I felt his chest press into mine as he took heavy breaths.
I looked up.
“...I won't die first.”
“I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean-”
“-Don't apologize.” He spoke with a stern tone. “I have no plans of going anywhere.” It was a tone I'd never heard from him in the past. A tone I'd never heard from anybody. “If you want, I'll stay alive forever.”
“R-Really? F-F-Forever?”
“Forever-ever.” He hugged me tighter. “And if I do die, I won't die before you, unless.... No. I just won't. I won't. I won't leave you.” He sounded like an adult; he sounded the way I'd always imagined a real man would sound.
I still clung to him, but I no longer felt afraid—not of the past, future, or of the present. For an instant, hearing his sudden, powerful tone, I felt an urge to cry more, but a moment later, it felt pointless. The desire to cry, along with the pain that fueled it, drained out of me like I'd been uncorked. So suddenly I felt silly for having cried in the first place.
Sitting there in the middle of the woods, in the warm embrace of his arms, I felt at peace. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt like I was at home. I felt like I was safe. I felt like I was loved. I didn't have to worry about tomorrow or the day after that, because as long as I was there, tucked away in that glorious moment, tomorrow didn't exist.
“Thank you....” I mumbled, my face buried in his fur.
“No. Thank you.” He answered back. “You've done things I could never do...yeah?”
I almost laughed.
...Yeah?
After all of that. After his sounding like an adult, and speaking with that special kind of sternness that one simply cannot imitate, in the end, he was still the same old Joseph.
But upon pulling free from the hug and looking in the eyes one more time, the look he returned to me made me wonder if he really was the same.
We headed back to West-End a few minutes later. Trudging down Joseph's usual path felt easy in comparison to the dense one that led to the road, but the exhaustion in my limbs had intensified. Each step made my stomach warble with nausea and my thighs scream with pain. Even with all the dread that surrounded West-End, the only thought I could maintain for longer than a step was the thought of my bed and my body collapsing into it.
When we arrived, we were greeted by the sight of one of the kids—one whom I could not name, but I recognized as a friend of Blon and Ant's--sitting outside smoking a stick. The moment he spotted us, he ran inside without a word. Strangely, he ran in with the stick in his mouth, presumably lit, something that I'd not seen anyone do since my arrival.
Before we made it to the door, Daughtry emerged, his arms crossed, a frown on his face, and his greasy hair glimmering angrily in the sun.
“Joseph,” he said sternly, making Joseph flinch.
While approaching him, Joseph muttered for me to just go inside and said he'd meet me there. I looked at him with curiosity and a whole lot of concern, but he didn't look back, and I took that as a sign to do what he said and ask about it later.
Joseph stepped before Daughtry and I tried to walk by, keeping my eyes awkwardly affixed to the ground.
“And where do you think you're going, Leon?”
I flinched, feeling a large swathe of confusing emotions all at once.
“He didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who hit Blon...sir.”
Daughtry looked me up and down and squinted his eyes. Then he spoke surprisingly softly. “Fine, then. I'll... deal with you later.”
I glanced back at Joseph, expecting to find him with the same expression, for us to silently share in at least this one minor victory, but I found his eyes wide and lips agape, a look of true, horrifying dread on his face.
I turned away immediately.
My chest heaved, mostly from the intensity of my second conversation with Daughtry, but now heavier than before, because of that look Joseph had given me.
Why? I thought. Why did he seem so horrified? I've never seen him look like that before.... Did he expect something different? Did he not want me to leave him alone? Did he have some sort of plan? Was I the one who'd ruined it?
Walking inside, I was surprised to find the normally empty hallway packed full of kids. I found Blon and Ant there, as well as the kid who'd ran inside, and even a few others who'd presumably come from the Bunker.
I walked past the group of kids all eavesdropping behind the entrance door, trying to ignore the sneers and mocking smiles from Blon and Ant, and the curious looks from the others kids who could only ponder my involvement in it all.
And then I stopped.
An instant after having passed the group, every eye shifted away from me, back to the door. The only people who could even tell I was there were the ones who'd turned their heads to the side to get their ears as close to the action as possible.
So I stayed there, and even moved in a bit closer to the group and the door; although I didn't have to get close to hear. Daughtry's voice boomed, and none of the other kids dared utter a word, lest they miss a crucial part of the show.
“What in the name of Fig Sol is wrong with you?” Daughtry began.
That name again. I thought. Fig Sol.
“After everything I've done for you here. After everything that I've given you. All the sacrifices and the love and the work....” Daughtry sighed loudly. “It's disgusting. It's disgusting somebody like you could be so selfish. The last person in the world who has any right to be selfish. But I'm the wrong one. Wrong for even pretending to be surprised at this sort of behavior from you. Are you incapable of learning? Incapable of thought? Do you have even a drop of faith to you? How big of an idiot are you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Shut up! I don't want to hear you speak unless you are spoken to!” He bellowed. “Now is it true? Do you admit to hitting Tobias on the side of the head? Did you hit my son you little barbarian?”
HIS SON????
“...Yes, sir.”
“Good. At least you can be honest. Now you realize this cannot go without punishment, correct?”
“Y-Yes....”
“Yes what?!”
“Yes-sir.”
“Good. Now what do you think that punishment's going to be?”
“I-I d-don't know, si-”
“-I said.” Daughtry kneeled down, grabbed Joseph by the collar of his shirt, and yanked him within an inch of his face. “What do you think that punishment is going to be, boy?”
“I don't know.” Joseph's chin was pulled down against his chest, his voice was almost too low to hear now.
“Good.” Daughtry let him go and stood up. Then, in one swift motion, he backhanded Joseph across the face with enough force to send him flying to the ground. Joseph stayed on the ground, a hand over his cheek.
My entire body jolted, almost with enough intensity to knock me to the ground.
“Now get inside you ungrateful worm. And if you ever lay another hand on my boy again, I promise you you'll regret it.”
Daughtry then turned around and walked inside, extending no effort whatsoever to verify if Joseph was okay or not. As he walked past me, he glanced at the other kids, not in surprise that they would eavesdrop, but with the casual concern taken to avoid bumping into them.
Upon reaching me, his eyes met mine and he did not look away until he passed, and then, he did not look back. I suspected that, whatever this was, it was not over.
“That's what you get, Koshy! Learn your place.” Blon yelled out of the door before turning around and following the rest of the kids to the Bunker. He smiled at me as he passed.
My hands balled into fists.
I wonder how bad it would be if I were to punch him in the side of the head....
And then I walked outside. Joseph was picking himself up off the ground. He still had the stern expression he'd had when we'd left the woods, but now his eyes were wider and he was breathing quicker.
The fervency worried me because he'd only just calmed down, and I wasn't sure what to expect from him.
“He's a real bastard,” he said.
“I... I didn't know he was so awful.”
“Of course you wouldn't know that. It's not like you ever see him, yeah? I love the parts about all the love and sacrifice. Like the government doesn't pay for all this....” Joseph's expression sank and he went quiet. Then he looked over at me and his eyes widened a bit. “Let's go eat.”
“O-Oh, um.... okay.”
“And make sure to eat it all, even if you're not hungry, alright? A-After today you're gonna need the energy, yeah?” He brushed off some of the dirt on his shorts and headed inside. I followed close behind.
“Um, yeah, I guess so.... Don't you want to relax a bit first?”
“We'll relax while we eat. And it'll just make your bed feel that much better tonight.... You should prob' go to bed early tonight, yeah? I can only imagine how worn out you are, and I don't want you to catch fever.”
“Yeah, okay....” We walked in silence for a few moments before I spoke up again. “H-Hey, Joseph? How come you didn't... explain at all?”
“What? You mean to Daughtry?”
“Uh huh. You didn't really tell him what happened. Blon was the one being mean. You were just defending yourself—actually... you were defending me.”
“It wouldn't have made a difference, yeah? I've tried explaining things to that scummy bastard in the past and he is just like his slimy little brat of a child. He doesn't listen and he doesn't care about anybody other than himself, yeah? Anybody, Leo.”
“Is he really that bad...?”
“Worse.” Joseph said, suddenly grave. “Far worse than you could ever imagine.”
And with that, we walked into the cafeteria.
I found Joseph's calmness surprising. He seemed to have taken Daughtry's abuse in stride, as if he were used to it, but I couldn't help but wonder how well adjusted a person could become to treatment like that. But maybe there was more to it.
Joseph's words since we'd talked in the woods seemed more directed than usual. They seemed to be spoken with explicit purpose, and possibly for that reason, he spoke from that point on only when I spoke first.
I watched him during dinner and when we went back to the Bunker. He looked back at Blon's and Ant's glaring mockery with not a shred of fear or embarrassment and he kept staring off into the distance, as if he were preoccupied with something of immense importance.
Again I was forced to wonder how 'back to normal' Joseph really was.
Chapter Fifteen
I was in town. The cobblestone of the market street was now dirt; a fierce yellow color, like sand. The people strolled around, but they did not see me. And I knew they did not, since they did not stare at me.
Strolling along side the Fair were other Fen. Some of them tall and narrow, others a bit shorter and stockier—in actuality, not much different from the Fair, save the fur and the blurry tails that sat in perfect stillness on the periphery of my vision. They didn't appear to be slaves, though they wore shoddy clothes, and most were underdressed.
Why isn't anybody staring at them?
Why isn't anybody staring at me?
These two questions appeared to me one time. That is to say, a single time in the tumultuous thing called thoughts. But they did not leave me. They sat there, still, just like the tails of the Fen and the yellow, sandy dirt that had replaced the cobblestone of the road. Like leeches they clung to every thought, yet never announced their presence.
Specters that told me no more than 'I am haunting you,' and then never providing a drop more detail. All I knew was that they were there, but I could not attempt to answer them.
I began sweating.
My surroundings radiated heat, and the heat increased with every second.
Everything grew muddy and smeared. First the tails and the sand and the back-of-mind thoughts, but the muddiness kept encroaching. Not from the sides, but it came from the center of my vision and followed me around like the dot of color that forms after staring into a bright light. It grew increasingly immense, moment by moment, covering more and more of my vision.
What is this?
Where am I?
I want to go home....
I began to move, to rush headlong in one direction.
I tried to crane my head in any direction other than the one I was going, but it wouldn't move. I didn't know why, I didn't even have the fortitude to ask; all I knew was that I didn't want to look straight anymore. The longer I stared, the muddier it got, the more what lied there repulsed me.
Maybe I do know why.
But I don't know now.
The words faded a moment after they appeared, but the contradiction they posed remained. It racked my body with anxiety and confusion. How can two mutually exclusive things happen in tandem? How can two related thing be both a contradiction and not a contradiction?
I asked these questions without words, without sensations.
No answer.
I kept running. I kept staring. The people started to blur more, contorting to face me, to move toward me, but all without looking or moving. And then they blended together. They were many people, then a few people, then two people, and then one. One wretched essence spiraling around me.
This essence, this being that had been nothing but empty figures was now alive.
Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was not thinking or sentient, but was a mindless beast acting on instinct.
...But wasn't I that?
I heard something muttered over the dense, cacophony of silence.
My entire being began to quiver, as did everything I saw.
The essence that tracked me, that surrounded me, that hungered for me. I felt it move in closer. I felt it on my flesh, touching me all over, in small, pin-point areas separated by uneven distances. I heard a strange muttering for a moment, all around me, coming from a source unknown, but it faded soon after, leaving a sense of horror in my entire self.
I had to get away, but I could only go straight, and I knew it wanted me to go there. I wanted to stop, but I was too scared. I wanted to turn, but my panic kept the thought—the thought that I could switch directions--from fully forming. And if I couldn't fully form this thought, how could I feel it? If I couldn't feel it, how could I act upon it?
Help me.
I heard the muttering again.
Everything was so hot. Everything was falling away and there was nothing I could do about it. I reached out but it burnt; it burnt to reach out, to move, to stand still, to be there.
I wanted out. I cried out in my thoughts
Home.
I wanted to go home.
But how could two mutually exclusive things happen in tandem?
Where was home?
Where was Gaol?
Where was Mom?
Where was Mrs. Shire?
The muttering again, a shaking, intense nausea.
How could two mutually exclusive things-
“Hey... are you awake? Leo, hey....”
Whispering....
“Psst, hey, get up already, we don't have much time!”
Joseph?
“Hey!”
My eyes snapped open and I pulled a deep breath of air into my lungs. My body tensed up as I became aware of the awful feeling extending from my legs to my head--some strange, hybrid feeling between pain and the need to vomit.
“Finally....” He sighed. “Listen, I don't have a lot of time. I'm leaving, alright? I'm getting out of here.”
Joseph carried a bulging bag over his shoulder, though I had no idea where he'd gotten it from. His blue eyes glimmered faintly, wide and alert. In this darkness, he looked a lot like a child.
He's fifteen... and I'm twelve.
“Did you hear me? I'm leaving, Leo. You can come with me if you want—I packed everything I could; there's enough food for us both for a few days, but.... You can come. You should come. I... don't know what'll happen to you if you don't, but... I'm sorry, I j-just can't stay here any longer. Not another night, Leo. Not another minute... yeah?”
'Yeah?'
The sudden relief I felt from hearing his vocal tic made me realize how desperately I'd been awaiting it. I blinked a few times, knowing I was awake for sure now.
“So... are you coming?” His voice tensed with worry. “Y-You don't have to. I can't force you to do anything, but, but you don't want to stay here. N-Not alone.... Right?”
“Joseph...I... I don't understand. Where are you going? Where are we supposed to be going?”
“Out, Leo. Out. We're leaving, yeah? Anywhere other than here. Anywhere.”
“But... doesn't there have to be a... a somewhere? Some other place for us to go?”
“L-Look,” he went on, his face tight. “I know it sounds weird, but I'd rather be out there than in here. I can't do it anymore.” His voice strained. “I just can't. I ne-I need to go. You can come if you want. But I... I gotta leave, yeah? I just gotta--There's... there's gotta be something out there. Anything.... Somewhere. Anywhere, yeah? --I'm sorry, but I have to. I don't have much time.” He kept looking back and then back at me. His panic grew with each movement, as if people were encroaching in on him, but nobody in the room stirred.
I was fully awake at this point. “W-Wait! I... I'm not sure. I...”
I thought about what it would be like waking up and opening my eyes. About looking over to his bed and finding it empty. I thought about heading to first meal and then to second meal and then sitting down to eat alone both times. I thought about the countless hours I'd have to occupy. How I'd have to hide from Blon and Ant, how I'd have to hide from everybody and bury myself in books, and pray I survived. Pray I didn't starve. Pray I didn't lose my sanity like it seemed everybody around me had.
I'd have nobody and nothing.
I'd be utterly alone. Just as I had been the first time I walked in West-End, and Mrs. Shire had walked out.
“I know it's sudden, but if you need more time I can try and come ba-”
“-I'll go.”
He looked taken aback, but a moment later all the worry in his child-like face melted away into a grin. “Yeah...? Okay! I knew I could count on you. Okay, hurry, hurry, I've already taken too long. If someone wakes up we're screwed, yeah?” He pulled the covers off me and helped me out of bed. He pushed my shoes over to me and looked around anxiously as I rushed to put them on.
I got to my feet.
“Alright, quick, over here. We're gonna go out the window....”
We hurried over to his bed where he'd already opened his window and we stopped.
“What happens if we get caught?”
He looked over at me, confused at first. “Good idea taking the blanket, yeah? We'll need everything we can get.”
I had the thin blue West-End comforter wrapped around my body like a robe made for someone twice my size.
“And don't worry about that,” he continued. “We're not gonna get caught.” He ushered me over to the window and held the blanket as I climbed out.
The frigid air hit me the moment I got a portion of my body outside the window. I thanked myself for having grabbed it.
Joseph slid out with speed and grace and fluidity. He handed me my blanket back, which I gratefully accepted and promptly re-wrapped around my body, adjusting it so it draped down my shoulders a bit, but allowed my legs full range of motion.
Then we ran.
Joseph plowed his way through the tall, unkempt grass surrounding the back of West-End, no doubt checking his speed so I could remain in tow. He headed straight for the unexplored woods, and upon reaching the line that marked the entrance into wilderness, he disappeared into the thick brush and led me through the blackness presumably toward his trail.
My chest heaved and I did my best to keep my eyes on Joseph's back, and occasionally on the ground. In my attempts to remain as close to him as possible, I'd bumped into him a couple times, and he'd hit me with his wide swinging feet, and more than a few times with his tail. But, thankfully, he didn't seem to mind.
“J-Joseph.”
“Yeah?” He whispered back, slowing down his pace a bit.
I did my best to speak between rapid breaths. “How far are we going...?”
“We're heading to my trail, yeah? When we get there, we'll take it all the way to my training spot, and then we will take my other trail that leads us to the Road.”
“To the Road...?”
“Sometimes people walk the Road at night. Not usually all the way to town, though. If we stick to the woods we shouldn't have anything to worry about, yeah? Nobody should see us if we head that far down”
“Oh. What about after that? Do you have a place in town for us to stay...?”
He didn't respond, but remained at his slowed down pace.
“Joseph...?”
“No, I don't.” He paused for a few moments, and then went on. “The plan is to get close to town, and then head back into the woods... and then... we'll just have to spend the night out here, yeah?”
I looked around, taking in the all-too relieving sight of near pure blackness. What was not entirely shrouded in black was the blackened silhouette of some spiny, bushy, many-sided piece of life back-lit by the rays of the moon.
Even in the few moments we'd been walking, I'd heard no shortage of noises, ranging from animals to insects to the most malevolent sounding sticks cracking underfoot. I swallowed, only capable of imagining how loud the forest cacophony would get the moment we stopped.
“We're... sleeping outside? Out here?”
“Yes... I'm sorry....” His voice dropped in volume as he continued. “It's not too late to turn around. You... you don't have to follow me.”
I didn't respond, and he did not turn around. I hated the idea of going back to West-End alone, but somehow, in that moment, the thought Joseph might stay out in these woods alone, the idea he might have to be savagely reminded of his own loneliness by my own cowardice. It hurt more. And the tone in his voice; he'd sounded as if he might cry making his offer to take me back.
I didn't respond.
When we reached his trail, we did just as he'd said. We followed it to the training spot, and then took the next, less developed trail to the Road. We followed the Road a few miles and then, when Joseph felt we were getting 'unsafely close' to town, we went back into the woods, again forcing our way through untrodden brush just as we had earlier in the night.
Except now we were not a crow's throw away from West-End. We were not a crow's throw away from anybody, or anything. It took every bit of my strength not to collapse to the ground in tears from terror and exhaustion, and had it not been for Joseph and his back, the part of him to which I'd affixed my gaze for comfort, I would have for sure.
I could only imagine how Joseph felt, having nobody's back to look at, knowing that nobody could protect him from the chilling immensity that surrounded us both. His courage was ten-fold as great as mine, but even he had slowed down, afraid to walk headlong into that blackness, and even he occasionally stopped to listen to the noises of the night, or flinched at the particularly loud sounds that came out of nowhere.
After what felt like an eternity, we stopped in a small clearing under a thick tree and he tossed away the stick he'd used to protect himself against spider webs. He'd said it was 'as good as any other spot' and started clearing the leaves out of the way so we had a nice, comfy patch of gray dirt to sleep on.
I stood there, shivering, yet wet with sweat. I clutched my blanket and watched him, guilt over my current uselessness, but thankful he didn't ask me to be useful.
After that, he sat down against the tree and invited me over. I sat down next to him. We were between two large roots. The area was cozy, but the unpadded dirt was hard.
“Tomorrow is gonna be a long day, yeah? We should get some sleep.”
I looked around the forest warily. “...Sleep?”
“I know, yeah? It's scary. But once you close your eyes, y-you'll drift off.... And you don't have to worry about anything, y-yeah? You have me out here to protect you.” He spoke confidently, hopefully, as if this were the beginning of greater things.
Is he actually happy out here...? I wondered
“You're shivering,” I said, loosening my grip on the blanket. “Here.” I tried to extend part of the blanket to him, but he scooted away, pressing himself into the tree's root.
“No, no,” he said, uncrossing his hands to dismiss me. “I'm fine. You use it, y-yeah?”
“I can tell your cold. Just take it.”
“No, I'd be a lot m-more comfortable if you used the whole thing. I can tell you're c-colder than me, yeah?”
“But... it'll be warmer with both of us under it. Please?”
I couldn't make out his face in the dark, but I could tell by the suddenness of his silence and by the fact he was still facing me that he was deeply conflicted.
“I'm sorry.... I.... I just can't. C-Come on, let's just get some sleep.”
He slid downward, letting the slope formed by the tree and the ground act as a pillow for his neck.
“But....” I turned away from him, dejected.
But you can't sleep like that, I thought. You're freezing.... I'm freezing. Even now I can see you shivering....
I slid down and tried to relax like he had, but I couldn't get comfortable. It wasn't just the hard ground or the uneven dirt, or even the darkness and the noises—though those things were wildly unpleasant—but it was knowing that he was next to me, uncovered, with nothing more than his clothes to keep him warm. Even with the blanket I was shivering. I could only imagine how he felt.
And then I shot up, my eyes staring in the direction of some bushes. “What was that?” I asked in a hushed tone.
“Nothing. Probably just some animal or something. D-Don't worry about it, y-yeah?”
I sat there for a few moments, spine erect, and then slowly eased myself back down. Every sound I heard amplified my anxiety a bit, but now that we were in one place, and in a sense exposed, the true seriousness of the situation and of those sounds began to dawn on me.
The moment my head touched the tree, I heard it again and sat up, involuntarily.
“You heard it that time, right?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said sounding a bit afraid himself now too. “B-But, I heard it the first time, yeah? It's still probably just an animal. It is more afraid of us than we are of it, yeah? Just try to ignore it.”
I exhaled a heavy, quivering breath. I bit down on my lip and curled myself into a tight ball. I didn't relax again, though. I couldn't be sure that what I'd heard was an animal. And if it was, I couldn't be sure it was a safe animal to sleep near. I couldn't be sure that even if that noise had been caused by a safe animal, that there weren't other people, other things, horrible, nasty, malevolent things lurking in every other corner.
I could make out the silhouettes of bushes and trees and moss and branches and all manners of things hanging and sagging and forming the most grotesque imagery I could fathom in that pale moonlight.
How had I even laid down to begin with? How had I even made it this far? Now that I was no longer in motion, there was no more escape. Now that I was still, there was no more hope, no more chances of stumbling upon luck or safety.
I swallowed and gently rocked back and forth, every second the true nonsense of this world and this situation encroaching in further, like some kind of specter. Like some kind of monster waiting just over my shoulder.
I looked over my shoulder, I even turned to look past the tree, and the moment I saw the wretched forms the brush took there, the moment I saw all the hiding places and crevices, I immediately regretted it. I turned back around and clenched my jaw.
However, it was no use.
I couldn't handle this. I could barely handle the forest during the day. But in the middle of the night? Lying here? On the ground? Tears streamed down my face, and despite how I tightened my jaw and my face and my chest, sobs forced there way out of my nose in the form of stifled exhalations and sharp inhalations.
Again that word played in my head:
Home.
Why was I obsessed with it all the sudden? Why did town trigger this word in me? Why did town make it important? Why did it suddenly prey in my dreams and follow around every thought, like some promise of happiness that existed more as an obstacle than anything else?
Mrs. Shire.
I missed her so much. Words did not describe how much I wanted her to hug me. How much I wanted her to take Joseph and me away. I thought for a moment about how much easier things would have been if she'd just taken me to live with her, but I terminated these thoughts as quickly as I could. I felt to even think them was a betrayal of Joseph.
...But did that contradict the truth behind them?
How much easier would it have all been? How much easier would it be now...?
“Leo?” Joseph turned back to face me. “Are you okay?”
I sniffed. “No...”
He sighed and sat up. He looked down at his lap and then over at me. “I'm s-sorry. This was a huge mistake, yeah?”
“How come you did it?” I asked with a broken voice. “Why tonight? Why all the sudden? Couldn't we have talked about it first?”
“I meant bringing you, yeah? Because, no, no, it had to be tonight. There was no choice there. It had to be, okay? But... I guess I couldn't have left you either, yeah? But I should have done something. Anything to have prepared you for this....”
“Are you prepared?” I asked coarsely. “Were you ready for this? For the cold and for the woods and f-f-for sleeping on the ground? Was this what you wanted?”
“This was not what I wanted, Leo.... And no, I wasn't prepared for this. And I am not comfortable, and I am not happy, and I'm really scared and I don't know what to do or-” He stopped talking suddenly. Then his voice grew lower. “I couldn't do it anymore. I had to leave. I'm sorry I dragged you along, yeah?”
We sat in silence. The longer we sat there, the worse I felt.
“Sorry,” I nearly whispered. “I just... I-I'm... scared.”
“...Yeah,” he whispered back. “Me too.”
A few moments after that, I scooted up closer to him, and this time he didn't scoot away. I scooted again, pressing my side into his.
I pulled off a portion of the blanket and he lifted it up and slid under, pressing into me as he did it. Then, after a few more moments of adjustment, he put his arm around my shoulder and I fell into him, resting against his chest.
“We're gonna be alright.”
That was the last thing either of us said that night.
I don't know for how long I sat there drifting in and out of sleep, looking around and looking up to find Joseph either sitting with his eyes half open, or temporarily closed, but at some point, I drifted off into a real slumber.
I didn't know what I would wake up to. I didn't even know if I would wake up. All I knew was that there was no more safety net. There was nothing to catch us if we fell.
Judging by how Joseph had spoken about it, West-End was now a thing of the past. There was no turning back.
But then again, why turn back? Why go back to that place to rot away and die?
Even if what stood before us turned out to be a million times more terrible, at least in the murky silhouettes of the bushes in vines, beyond the dancing shapes of monstrous specters and crackling leaves and chirping woodland creatures, there was a slight glimmer of light. There was the the chance for change, the chance for escape, a hope for Gaol.
Chapter Sixteen
Amoux
“Bring in Matin!” Amoux called.
The flaps of the Tout Savoir's tent flipped open. Searing orange light filled the large enclosure, making everybody squint except for the Tout Savoir himself. Two guards brought Matin forward, one on each side, their hands clasped gruffly around his arms. Matin's hands were bound, his right eye was swollen from a blow, and his fur, mainly the fur on his face, was covered in dried blood.
Like Samuel who stood to the Tout Savoir's right, Matin was a Fen.
“Hmm, it is a shame.” Amoux tightened his eyes. “I had high hopes for you.”
“Please....” Matin said, his voice cracking for want of water. “It's a mistake.... You... you can't. It's a-”
“Enough.” Amoux put up a hand to silence him. “You've lived among us long enough, Matin. Surely you know how this goes by now?”
Matin's desperate expression morphed into terror. His eyes glimmered with tears of fear.
“Tell me,” Amoux began, his words meticulous, a stark contrast to Matin's fervent begging. “You've done the deed yourself, have you not? You've killed betrayers with your own dirk at the Tout Savoir's word, yes? I recall you doing it loyally—even eagerly.”
“I-I have! I m-mean I did! I did so loyally! I did so for the sake of the Tout Savoir and for the country! I-”
“-You did it...” Amoux went on, “because you wanted to get close to the Tout Savior. Or maybe it is more apt to say you wanted to get inside the ranks of the rebellion? In any case, what you wanted was to aid the rebellion, to contribute to this... attrition. You wanted to aid Kendralli.”
“N-No. No, I... I didn't-”
“Did you really think it would be so easy?” Amoux's beady eyes grew tighter. “Did you think you'd get away with this?”
“I s-s-swear! I d-didn't mean for it to happen this way! I-I was just... I was just gathering information! I did it t-to help! It's a-”
“-Oh?” Amoux pressed. “You did it to help us?”
“Y-Yes! I-I-I... I wanted to get insider information, so I pr...” He paused for a moment and coughed. He began again a moment later, his voice even more cracked than before. “I w-wanted to pretend to join their ranks. So I c-could... give you their secrets.”
Amoux laughed. “A fool will say anything to stay alive, but unfortunately for you, it's your tendency to say anything that is going to get you killed. But surely someone clever enough to double cross is clever enough to come up with a better excuse than that...? You conspire with a faux One Movement agent, and then you have the audacity to say you do so for our own good?”
“I-I didn't, I meant... I m-meant I... that I wanted to get-”
“-Yes, you wanted to get information—you said that already, did you not? Yes, yes, information, and let me say, you offered a pretty fair price for that information. Information about us.”
“I s-swear I-”
“-You? You what? You were going to kill the spy before he tossed you to the ground like a child's doll? You were going to get better information? Something better than what you gave him? Or were you were going to go across the sea and personally slaughter Kendralli yourself?”
Matin went silent. He stared at Amoux, his eyes wide with terror. He looked over at the Tout Savior, and then looked away. The Tout Savior watched him the entire time, his hood the color of sand, pulled down low so that only a portion of his ebony skin could be seen beyond it.
“Matin.” Amoux said softly, but not gently. “You are going to die in this tent.”
Matin's eyes widened until each looked like its own moon. “N-N-No! Ple-”
“-To betray us for something as measly as this.” Amoux pulled a coin of deep red out of the pocket of his robe. He flicked it in the air and caught it between his fingers. “A single coin of blood. Fine. If you want a blood coin so desperately, take it Matin. See if you can spend in YOI.” Amoux flicked the coin toward Matin.
The Tout Savoir launched forward. In an instant, he went from sitting, to kneeling in front of Matin, his sword drawn and plunged into the Fen's belly. Matin lurched, coughed blood, and stared back into the Tout Savior's wide, yellow eyes. The coin plunked on to the stone floor.
“Betrayal,” the Tout Savior said lowly as he pulled the blood downward through Matin's intestines. “Will not be tolerated.” He freed the blade. Matin clutched his open stomach and fell to the ground groaning and gurgling.
The Tout Savoir....” Amoux thought. Ronaldo, Son of Lightening. The fastest swordsman on Izyadro.
The most powerful man alive.
Ronaldo returned to his chair.
“Remove him!” Amoux called out. The flaps of the tent opened once again. The same two guards entered and lifted Matin's groaning form and dragged him away, leaving a trail of smeared blood on the ground.
The pain is leaving him now. Amoux thought. And sleep takes its place.
When the tent had been cleared, Amoux called for the next to see the Tout Savoir.
“Enter: Lord Celestyna! Guardian of the Border! Queen of Snakes!”
The flap of the tent flipped open again. Sunlight filled the pale enclosure with yellow and orange. A shadow was cast on the Tout Savoir, in the shape of a woman, with a small line extending up from the shoulder.
“Ronaldo. It has been too long.”
Ronaldo stared back at Celestyna, unmoving and unspeaking. She smiled at him and took small, regal steps toward his seat, one half of her sea green dress extending down to her ankle, the other half cutting vertically across her legs, up to her thigh. A sparkling silver necklace of interwoven, multi-shaped loops covered the upper part of her chest, and a green snake with black stripes sat on her shoulder, half of its body draped down the side of her torso.
“Is he dead?” Ronaldo asked, his voice low and gruff.
Her smile dimmed a bit. “Things... did not go as expected.”
Amoux looked at Ronaldo, but he saw no reaction.
“We've not heard back from my assassin,” she went on. “It is to my understanding that he is dead.”
The room went silent and stayed that way for several moments.
“Do you have any information on Kendralli? Was your assassin of any use at all?” Amoux asked.
Celestyna narrowed her eyes. “We know where Kendralli is. At least, we know the general location of his headquarters.”
“So you know where Kendralli is, but you do not know where he is?” Amoux pressed.
“We do know where he is. But no, I could not tell you his exact location right this second from the other side of the ocean. If you'd like to know with such specificity, why do you not go see Kendralli yourself, Amoux? Give him my regards, could you?”
“You seem to think this is a wise time for jokes, Guardian, but I should remind you it was your assassin that failed. It is your fault that Kendralli-”
“-Enough.” Ronaldo said, looking up, his yellow eyes glowing in the pale, ambient light. “It was folly to send another after Kendralli.”
Celestyna bowed her head. Amoux watched Ronaldo and waited for him to go on. Samuel, the Fen priest who stood up on the opposite of Ronaldo, broke the silence.
“It was folly to send another after Kendralli. He is clever, and even if they manage to outsmart him and get him alone, that means little and less if they can't kill him—and I know of few people who can do that.” Samuel looked over at Ronaldo. “Your brother has proved to be quite the obstacle.”
“As I knew he would be.” Ronaldo said, his eyes low, seemingly in contemplation.
“I apologize, my Lord.” Celestyna began. “Ranaan was the best assassin that I had. For him to fail... it is unheard of.”
Ronaldo sat in silence for several long moments before he responded. “...Samuel is right. Sending another after Kendralli is folly. There is only one who can kill him.” Ronaldo stood from his seat. “Celestyna, return to the border. Amoux, I want Deliverance ready to sail at once. Lord Florent will be in command until I return.” He headed for the tent flap.
“Yes, milord.” Celestyna bowed.
“But Savoir!” Amoux began. “Are... are you sure this is wise?”
“I am the only one who can kill him.” Ronaldo replied grimly. “Nobody else can be trusted with this task. That is clear to me now.”
“But we are in the middle of a war. Your country needs you here.”
“You do not need to remind me we are in a war, Amoux. I am reminded each and every day by the state of this country. But there is more than just Germanus on the horizon. I will not stand by idly while my country is destroyed from the inside by an army of cowards and fools. Germanus can be kept out of our country for as long as need be, but betrayal permeates all barriers. And betrayal will not be tolerated.”
The Tout Savoir exited the tent without another word.
