Retribution, p.50
Retribution, page 50
He started to turn away, paused, then glanced back at me. “Although, there is one other question I should ask you.” His tone was light, curious, almost nonchalant. “Did you absorb any of Kiros’s mana when he tried to kill you?”
The probing tendrils were still in my mind, but I finally realized what was different than before: he was being reserved, limiting his use of mana.
Is it kindness or something else? I wondered. He’d told me before how dangerous his kind of mental magic could be, if not wielded carefully and by one with appropriate control and insight.
If not for that realization, I don't think I would have had the courage to do what I did.
“No, Agrona. You had forbidden it. Even though it almost cost me my life, I didn’t take any mana from the Sovereign.”
The thin line that formed between his brows was the only outward sign of his feelings. He nodded, setting the ornaments in his horns jangling. I thought he intended to leave, but instead he turned back to me, patting my shin with one hand. “You should focus on processing the phoenix’s lingering mana in your body. Your core is nearing Integration, I can sense it.” He bared his teeth in a hungry smile. “You will be the first in many, many generations of lessers to do so.”
I was silent. The tendrils of magic in my brain had subsided, and I couldn’t read Agrona’s intentions.
“Integration is a strange quirk of your lesser biology,” he mused, looking past me and through the wall into some distant vision only he could see. “For an asura, such a thing is unimaginable. As we grow in strength, our cores grow too. The longer an asura lives, the more they grow. Not in size, but potency and strength. And yet, strangely enough, we are still constrained.”
“In what way?” I asked, hesitating. Agrona was not usually prone to simple conversation, and I felt certain there was some deeper purpose behind his words.
“Integration, I believe, is the key to unlocking a new level of magical understanding. I have pursued it among my followers for decade upon decade, but it has proven quite elusive. Your role as Legacy, however, has put you on the cusp in only a fraction of the time I’ve invested. It is quite remarkable. You ask why the asura are constrained, and I will tell you.” The pressure of his hand on my shin tightened. “We have power, but we do not evolve. You lessers, you replicate like insects, and each generation changes, molting the shell of their forebears and becoming something new. In change there is opportunity, and in opportunity power.”
“Like…insects?” I asked, almost amused by the unflattering comparison.
Agrona waved his hand dismissively. “Once you have reached the Integration stage, then you will be able to fully come into your power as the Legacy. Until then, do not let minor setbacks disrupt your progress. Yesterday’s defeat becomes the lesson that informs tomorrow's victory.”
He straightened and smoothed the rich purple fabric of his shirt. “Beings like the two of us cannot afford to let slip even the smallest of lessons, Cecil. You must absorb it all, internalize every lesson, and then weaponize what you’ve learned. Do you understand?”
I bit the side of my cheek, uncertain if I really did understand, but after a moment I nodded.
“Rest, then, and consider my words,” he said, and then strode away. Only then did I realize I was alone, and that all the attendants and healers had left me.
I sank back into the bed and stared at the nondescript ceiling of my bedroom, forcing each breath in and out, deep and consistent. Despite everything Agrona had said about absorbing and internalizing and Integration, I found my thoughts drifting away from his unheeded advice and to Nico.
I had always known what Agrona was capable of. When he soothed my emotions or helped me bury her memories, I knew what we were doing. He’d even limited my access to my own previous life’s memories with my knowledge, waiting until I was strong enough before revealing certain things to me.
But this had been for my own protection, and often at my insistence. Or so I’d thought. Why Nico and Agrona had felt it necessary to change some of these memories, inserting Nico in place of Grey…I couldn’t wrap my head around. Much of my relationship with Nico—all the best parts, even—were real and true. But they had built him up, tried to make him more…heroic.
And they all but erased Grey from my life. Just to help me hate him?
That had been unnecessary. I hated him on Nico’s behalf alone—except, as I examined the emotion building in my chest, I had to acknowledge that it wasn’t hate I was feeling. I clamped firmly around the resolve I felt in killing him to free Nico of his rage. That, at least, was still true. I didn’t need to hate him to destroy him.
As I considered this and a great many other things, my eyes grew increasingly heavy, and I drifted off to sleep.
It felt as if I’d only closed my eyes for an instant, however, when a small knock at the door woke me again.
“Cecilia?”
A sleepy smile spread over my face. “Come in.”
The latch clicked, and Nico stepped into the room. He eased the door shut again behind him, then moved to the foot of the bed, looking at everything everywhere except me. He sat down stiffly, supporting himself on one arm but carefully not touching me. The silence between us built until it was awkward.
“Were they unkind to you?” I asked when I couldn’t take it anymore. “If they were I’ll—”
“No,” he answered belatedly, his voice soft. “Do you…how are you feeling?”
I watched the side of his face as he stared down at his lap. He was pale—well, more pale than usual—and he had a withdrawn expression. His fingers fidgeted nervously against the side of his leg. Despite the way his body seemed draped in on itself, it was also tense. Something was clearly wrong.
“I’m fine, honestly. Except, well…” I swallowed heavily. “I lied to him, Nico. You made me do that. You were letting him out, but I don’t understand why. Please, tell me why we did this.”
Nico glanced at me, but only for the barest instant. “I’m sorry, Cecilia.” He went quiet, and I could see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. The silence went on long enough that I didn’t think he was going to answer me, but then he started to speak again. “I’m really glad you’re okay. I didn’t think that—should have guessed Kiros would do something like that. I didn’t want you to get hurt, just thought, well, he could—I don’t even know, really—that if you…um…” He trailed off, cleared his throat, and then looked at me for real.
I sat up, pulled my legs under me so I was sitting cross-legged, and leaned toward him. “You’re lucky Draneeve saw fit to come tell me. If he hadn’t you—you’d be…” As I mentioned Draneeve, Nico’s fist balled up in the fabric of my blanket. “Don’t you go taking this out on him, Nico Sever. It’s because of Draneeve that you’re alive.”
“No, it’s because of you that I’m alive,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Draneeve is a traitor. You have no idea what he’s done.”
“Is it any worse than what you’ve done? What I’ve done?” I asked waspishly, then immediately regretted allowing myself to become frustrated as Nico shrank in on himself. “Let’s just…not fight, okay? I’m sorry.”
He nodded quickly. “I know. Me too.” He searched my eyes for a long time before speaking again. “Are you sure you feel okay? Is anything…different? Y’know, with the basilisk mana,” he added quickly.
Aside from feeling myself unravel one memory at a time? I wanted to say, but I held back. I had no way of knowing how much Nico understood about what Agrona had done, the kinds of changes he had made, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask.
Then, with the uncomfortable recognition of my own stupidity, I suffered the chilling realization that Nico’s mind may have been manipulated just like mine. Only, without any way to break through Agrona’s magic, he would still be trapped in those false memories. My hesitance to speak about it suddenly seemed almost prescient, as drawing attention to the dual memories without first establishing some kind of framework might trigger any kind of reaction from Nico. He could fly into a rage, or rush straight to Agrona in some kind of preprogrammed response, or have a complete mental breakdown.
Did Agrona replace Grey in your mind too, to make you enemies? I wondered. Or did he only take the hatred you already felt and fuel it, trimming out the good times and leaving only the bad? Agrona was like a surgeon with a scalpel, careful in his nicking and cutting. But I had no doubt he could wield his power like an ax if it suited him.
“Cecilia?” Nico asked.
I blinked several times, realizing I had been drawn deep down into my own thoughts. “I was just…inspecting myself, I guess. But no…I don’t sense any major changes within me. Perhaps it will make it easier to manipulate the shield around Sehz-Clar, though? I mean, certainly if the phoenix mana would have helped, then basilisk mana has to be even better, right?”
Several emotions seemed to flash across Nico’s face at once before he reigned them in. “Yeah, of course. Silver linings, right?” He tried to smile, but it was weak and pained. “Why didn’t you tell Agrona?” he asked suddenly, catching me off guard.
“I-I’m not sure…” I stammered, leaning back and letting my head rest against the wall.
Nico resituated himself, sitting more fully on the bed and facing me directly. “And you don’t think he knew? He can sense lies…practically read minds, I think.”
I shook my head, certain in my earlier observations. “He was holding back for some reason. I think he was afraid to hurt me.”
Nico scoffed, but I quickly reached out and took hold of his wrist. “No, listen. I know you’ve suffered at his hands, Nico, and I’m so, so sorry for that. But he does care about us, and about this world, and his own world beyond it. There is a passion and kindness and loneliness deeply rooted inside him that he keeps wrapped up, but I know it’s there. Just like I know he can do what he says…give us a life together, a real life, in our own bodies, on our own world.”
Despite everything, I knew this to be the truth. Agrona had an inhuman mind, and he did things others might consider immoral, but it wasn’t fair to judge him on the morality of lesser beings. My mind was my own, unaltered by any foreign magic, with no outside influence insisting on my loyalty or care, and my feelings about Agrona and this world hadn’t changed.
I wished Nico and Agrona hadn’t thought it necessary to alter my memories, to hide those things from me, but nothing I saw in these false memories made any difference. My feelings for Grey, perhaps, were more complicated than I had realized; the ghost of his presence in my altered memories had been easier to deal with, simpler, and I could understand why that had been preferable for all of us, even me. But Grey wasn’t my priority.
I opened my mouth to continue speaking but choked on the words. A new memory surfaced, but I struggled to make sense of it as two voices spoke out as one, two people playing through the same role, one clear and the other a faded halo, just like in my dream. It was the last memory that Agrona had unlocked for me, and as I relived it—now holding both the fake and real memory together, one laid over the other—my eyes grew slowly wider, my breath shallow and weak.
“Cecilia? Cecil! What’s wrong?”
Hands on my shoulders, a gentle shake, warm breath on my face…
“N-nothing,” I stammered, struggling to collect myself, unable to hold the present and both memories in my mind simultaneously. “Everything just…caught up with me all of a sudden I guess.”
Nico jumped off the bed, running a hand through his black hair nervously. “Of course, I didn’t mean to…I’ll leave. You need your rest.”
As I struggled to keep my eyes open and tear-free, I registered Nico searching my face one last time. Then, without even a farewell, he spun on his heel and bolted from the room.
I slumped over onto my side and curled up into a ball, squeezing my eyes shut tight to block out the visual present, allowing the split-memory to continue playing behind my eyelids.
In it, underneath the false version crafted by Agrona, I listened to myself say all those bitter, vile things to Grey. I taunted and insulted him, toyed with him…all the things I’d thought he had done to me. Except, in the end, after his sword plunged through my body, there was more. Only the false memory snuffed out, allowing what was layered behind it to come into focus.
As his blade pierced through my chest, my blood ran down his hands and arms. My full weight pressed down on him, the hilt of his sword between us, and I wrapped my arms around him, almost like an embrace.
“I’m sorry, Grey. This… was the… only way,” I said, blood bubbling in my lungs and staining my lips.
He released the sword, and my body sagged against him. “W-what—why?”
“As long as… I live… Nico will be… imprisoned—used against me.”
He stumbled back, and I fell atop him, driving his blade even deeper into me. I let out a gasp of pain, but I barely felt it. Most of my body was already cold.
“No… no, this can’t be…” Grey sputtered.
He held me in his arms, trembling until the memory faded to black.
414
SCHOOL IN SESSION
ELEANOR LEYWIN
“This would be much easier if we just flew,” Mica said grumpily as she wiped a glob of blackish-greenish sludge from her face, all that remained of yet another beast that had attacked us.
“You can’t simply bypass the rigors of the Relictombs,” Lyra pointed out, sounding exactly like a school teacher. “The point is to ascend through them, defeating their challenges, not circumventing them. Otherwise, you gain nothing. Besides, flight is mana intensive, and you’ll need to learn to conserve your strength.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mica scoffed. “I didn’t realize this was a day trip to kooky school.”
Something flopped in the muck to our right, and my head twitched nervously in that direction. The light in the zone was diffused and hazy, making visibility weird. The green murk hid the distant walls and ceiling, giving the uncomfortably impression that the place just went on forever and ever. It also swallowed sound, making it difficult for me to tell whether it came from right beside us or halfway across the zone.
The smell was the worst, though. Like boiling rotten eggs layered over moldy manure and decomposing animals…
“This might be the first time I don’t appreciate having your enhanced senses, big guy,” I muttered, patting Boo on the back. He rumbled his agreement.
My bond with Boo made me the best scout and lookout, and so I was sitting on top of him and watching for signs of geysers exploding or terror leeches—a name I’d invented myself—attacking from beneath the acidic pools, while also scanning the horizon for any sign of an exit.
“I wouldn’t need to conserve mana if Arthur would just show us the way through this place,” Mica went on, her knuckles creaking audibly around the haft of her hammer.
“Think of it as your first test,” Arthur answered humorlessly.
Catching sight of a dim glimmer through the gloom, I pointed it out to the others. “I think that shiny thing over there might be a portal.”
Mica floated up off the ground and squinted in that direction. “Mica doesn’t—I don’t see anything.”
Regis chortled in amusement. “Then that means we made the right choice in making Eagle
Eyes here our scout.”
“Oh, L-Lyra!” I burst out, catching sight of a crimson ball of slime oozing its way up the back of her boot.
Her head snapped around, and she quickly followed the line of my wide-eyed gaze to the blood slug. Her hand scythed down, and a blade of wind sliced the thing off her. With a sharp stomp, she crushed it. A circle of blood sprayed around her foot like a gory halo.
“You’re all getting distracted,” Arthur said, his arms crossed and one brow raised judgmentally. “Focus.”
Lyra nodded deeply, almost like a shallow bow. “Of course, Regent Leywin. You are correct. During an ascent, one member of the team should always be given leadership authority, even among freshly forged groups. I would suggest—”
Mica scoffed for about the hundredth time and spun toward Lyra, but before she could speak, a massive tentacle snapped out of the pool of acid she was hovering above. I gasped and fumbled with my bow as the tentacle wrapped around her leg.
“Oh, rock and root, get off me!” she cursed, swinging her conjured hammer into the slimy appendage.
Instead of bursting, the tentacle seemed to stretch, absorbing the impact. As it stretched, it sort of melted, coming apart in sticky strands that very obviously defied the normal laws of nature, then solidified again in a loop around the hammer, trapping it while still holding Mica. Tendrils of smoke were rising from wherever the acidic tentacle touched her.
I drew the string of my bow and mana formed into a white beam of light nocked against the string. With the twang of release, the arrow drew a bright line through the murky air and struck the tentacle with a wet thump.
Mica pulled against the tentacle, attempting to fly upward and break its grip, but it somehow resisted even the strength of a Lance.
Stone spikes thrust up from under the surface of the water, each one pointing in a slightly different direction, many piercing the not-quite-real-looking tentacle, but still it held onto her.
The air began to vibrate. The noise this made was so low I doubted anyone but me could hear it. For a second, I wondered what kind of new monstrosity was attacking us, but then I sensed the mana pouring out of Lyra and into the tentacle. I held my breath for a second as I waited for something to happen, then the tentacle burst apart into a shower of inky, slithering snot blobs.
Boo lurched beneath me, dodging a splattering of the stuff.
“Gross,” Mica said, shaking like a wet dog as she brushed the hissing slime and bits of tentacle off her.
“See, Lance?” Lyra said with a poorly suppressed smirk. “It all comes down to knowledge and your ability to act on said knowledge without panicking. I was able to save you because—”
