The little lemmings search in vain. There is no remedy for the wall, no earthly material that will repair the damage. Whatever magic was used to construct the Boundary has long since been extinguished. Power courses uncomfortably through my veins and for once I allow it to fill me. I have crumbled something timeless, infinite. Now the people of Similis will finally feel the agony of the Darkness, it’s sharp edges and unforgiving waves. They are no longer safe from its influence.
This was a necessary violence, but it is satisfying, nonetheless.
“Tonight, then?” My companion asks from his place next to me. Weapons line his chest and legs and a large bow peeks from over his shoulder. A warrior, just as I trained him to be. Who will not balk at what comes next and the blood it will most certainly reap.
I nod, quick and terse. Words aren’t needed.
Tonight, I will meld into the Darkness, dropping into its twisted depths until it is all I am, all I can feel. Tonight, blood will rain at my hands and I will get back what is mine.
ChapterFour
Mirren
“Mirren, are you dressed? Breakfast is getting cold.” Farrah’s harried shouts rouse me from a sleep that evaded me most of the night. I’d snatched the coin from Easton’s room and carried it back to mine like it were made of glass. After tucking it safely under my mattress, I’d laid in bed, but sleep wouldn’t come.
Images of my parents flooded my brain, of my father’s twinkling eyes and the wry set of my mother’s mouth. And Easton.
Long after I stopped speaking of my parents in public, I still spoke of them to my brother. I’d sneak into his bedroom after Farrah and Jakoby were asleep and tell him everything I remembered about them. Most of it was mundane, quiet as most things are here. It made me feel better to speak of them. To remember they were real. To make sure that neither of us would forget them, and by extension, forget what bound us together.
But when Easton was seven, he turned to me, his eyes rimmed with silver and asked me to stop talking about them. Remembering them hurt, he told me, and he didn’t want to hurt anymore. I was horrified, both at the fact that I’d caused Easton pain when he’d already gone through so much and at the thought of never being able to speak of my parents to anyone again. But I respected his wishes. That night was the last time I spoke their names out loud.
And the whole time, Easton had a way to find them.
Here, love.
“Mirren, you have five minutes until you need to leave for the Education Center,” Farrah calls from the kitchen. I pull myself out of bed. There’s no need to get dressed, because I never changed out of my khaki jumpsuit, so I settle with splashing some cold water on my face. I stare at my reflection, the mirror in the bathroom being the only one I’ll see for the rest of the day. Similians don’t give much thought to physical appearance, beyond the uniformity of it. My eyes are rimmed red and puffy from tears and lack of sleep. My face is pale, and my dark hair is a riot of curls and tangles.
I run my fingers through it and quickly braid it back.
It’ll have to do.
Going to the Education center feels ridiculous when my heart is still pounding from what I learned last night. But it isn’t possible to go barreling over the Boundary in broad daylight. And I haven’t told Easton my plans. Even if he’s unconscious, I can’t leave without saying goodbye.
I jog through the kitchen and toss my bag over my shoulder.
“What about breakfast?!” Farrah looks positively scandalized that I’d skip a meal.
“I’m not hungry.”
She opens her mouth to scold me, but I bolt out the door, straight into a solid, but very warm wall.
“Oh, I’m very sorry,” Harlan immediately apologizes, rubbing his chest where my nose just collided. “I didn’t think you’d be rushing out so quickly.”
I rub my nose irritably. I forgot Harlan said he was going to be here this morning. I don’t know how him walking me to school complicates my plans, but it feels like an unnecessary obstacle. Trying to make conversation with him. Trying to act like everything is normal when it definitely isn’t.
“It’s my fault,” I reply, picking up the bag I dropped on impact.
“Are you hurt?” Genuine concern lines his face. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“I’m fine,” I say, trying and failing to keep the bite out of my voice. “Let’s go.”
I begin walking before he has the chance to ask me anything else.
“How was your night?” A polite, usual question that no one is ever looking to actually hear answered.
My whole life changed, how was yours?
“Fine.”
