“Attempting to take the virginity of the Propheros seemed like a pretty good reason,” he said in a bored tone. If he didn’t have the knife stuck in my back, I was sure he’d be cleaning underneath his fingernails with its razor tip.
“Do you really think I’d take something so sacred for myself? Do you think I would just turn on the Light like that?”
Gatsby didn’t respond. There was something about his pause that I didn’t understand but felt I should have.
“Temptation is real brother, yet the Chevalier must be cleansed of it.” His words were tight, and I could tell he was hiding something, but I didn’t have time to probe for what.
“Yes well, when have you known me to succumb to temptation, brother? Ever?”
He didn’t respond.
“Admittedly, Emma is unique and I have had to fight baser instincts I’d never known before, but do you know why I finally turned against the Luxis, brother? It wasn’t because temptation had overcome me.”
Again, that static hum around his silence. He wanted to ask. His curiosity wriggled and prodded him to ask. I couldn’t speak it until I knew he was ready. I had to rely on his knowledge of my previous devoutness. How could he forget when it disgusted him so all these years?
“I think you knew,” I added in a low voice. “On some level, I think part of you had always known the truth, which is why you had to suffer the most.” I closed my own eyes against the pain of my blindness.
The pressure of his blade lessened ever so slightly off my ribs. “What truth?”
Though I inwardly crowed in victory over that chink in his armor causing him to ask, my jaw tightened and my chest constricted as I explained.
“We were never soulless. They told us that so we would bend to their will. Our only objective was to exhibit absolute obedience, and they worked out a brilliant plot to demand just that. Convince us to work toward a redemption we never needed in the first place.”
Gatsby gave a slight snort, and I couldn’t tell if he was amazed at how well the Order’s ploy worked or if it was because he could never truly conform to the obedience they demanded. I counted on it being the latter. That way he would come to the truth sooner.
“We’ve been lied to and used.” Though I was speaking to Gatsby, I kept my eyes trained on Emma who rocked back and forth between each foot. Her glasses hung off the neck of her dress now. She held each arm, and though she wasn’t pacing, she was clearly agitated. Though no one could blame her, waiting for her death. I wasn’t sure if Master Wu could sense the change of Emma’s mind. Even if he hadn’t been present, the number of order members would easily prevent her escape if she decided to leave before the darkness came.
“Which is why we must act now.” I kept my voice low enough that I couldn’t be overheard.
The forest stilled of every bug chirp and twittering bird. It happened so abruptly, even Master Wu’s words died off his lips. Perhaps I was too late. Perhaps the darkness had come and I couldn’t save Emma. Energy pulsed through me, begging to be released but I held my ground. If I was going to fight, I needed to know I could win. Between Gatsby and Master Wu, I wouldn’t get two moves into a spell without them both stopping me. Maybe my new-found power was strong enough I wouldn’t have to use a spell though.
As I debated whether to try to use the brute force of my magic, figures emerged a quarter mile out past the fissure. Green light illuminated two familiar faces. Phillip and Regina stepped from the woods and into the clearing. Both wielded katanas. The long thin blades caught the light of the green moon, causing the weapons to glint with menace.
The Luxis pulled blades from their robes as if sharing the same breath, all except for Travis who fumbled to pull his out. In contrast to the Veritas, our order members carried claymore swords, the original medieval articles made in Scotland. The handle scooped downward over the blade.
Master Wu seemed irritated, but not alarmed. He knew the two agents would be easily overtaken and he wouldn’t even have to bother to lift a finger.
Fifty more agents stepped out from the trees to join my biological parents. Master Wu’s irritation now pulled his lips down into a disgusted sneer.
The house of Veritas erupted in a battle cry and charged across the clearing toward the chasm separating them from their enemies.
The agents had to round to either side of the chasm where it was narrowed in places enough to jump the crack. The Luxis order members fanned out in both directions. It wasn’t long before the clang of blades reverberated in the night. Emma instinctively took several steps back, away from the melee. Blood spattered the ground near her from an agent of Veritas who was dead before hitting the ground, Emma turned to face me, ready to run into my arms.
Master Wu stepped in between us. I couldn’t wait any longer. I launched forward, but Gatsby grabbed my arm and used my momentum against me to throw me to the ground so I landed on my back facing up toward him.
“Please Gatsby, we need to protect her,” I pleaded, propping myself up on my elbows.
Tucking away his needle point knife, Gatsby grinned down at me. “I am,” he said before throwing a hard punch to the side of my face.
I kicked at his stomach with both feet, but Gatsby was quick to draw back. My face stung, already swelling from the blow. Jerking my lower half, I jack-knifed into a standing position. “Gatsby, didn’t you hear me? You can’t defend the people who have lied to us our whole lives.”
Gatsby wasn’t listening. He didn’t want to kill me, but he was ready to express a lifetime of resentment and anger to me. He threw several more punches at me that I quickly dodged, though my head swam with hot prickles from his earlier blow.
With a quick glance behind me, I saw Master Wu gripping Emma’s arm as she tried to twist back and away from the battle behind them. Claymore against Katana, the swords clanked, punctuated every once in a while with the groans from the wounded or dying. The agents of Veritas had bottle-necked on either side of the chasm. The servants of Luxis held them at bay, but soon the numbers of Veritas would overcome them.
As I rolled to avoid Gatsby’s punch, his boot caught my gut, causing vomit to jettison up my throat. I had to still the urge to vomit from the sudden, unexpected hit. Instead, I rolled away before he could get me again.
“Gatsby,” I rasped, bile still stinging my throat. “You have to stop. Listen to me.”
