“You’re looking a lot livelier.”
“It helps that your partner stopped me from actively dying.”I wave vaguely at my face. “Brings the color back into a person’s cheeks.”
That softens his expression a little—not my deadpan sense of humor so much as the mention of Liren. “They’re good at that.”
Orion walks me to the bottom of the staircase. “I was just taking Val upstairs to rest.”
“I’ll help them.” Atlas steps down level with us and takes my free arm. Orion opens his mouth to protest, but his brother cuts him off with a shake of his head. “You are tired and worn out, and you badly need a steam shower. Go take care of yourself for a few minutes. We’ll survive.”
Orion wavers, looking between me and Atlas, and I finally spot the shadows beneath his eyes. And then mentally kick myself for only noticing it now and not when I first woke up. He’s tired—really tired—but he’s still hesitating.
I pull myself out of his grasp, transferring my weight to Atlas. “I’m good. You go.”
Another moment, and then Orion finally nods and heads off for the steam showers.
Atlas wraps an arm securely around my shoulders. “Shall we?”
At the top of the stairs, the hallway branches off in either direction, punctuated by doors with little oxidized green numbers hung on them. A lot of dram shops double as inns or magdalena houses or occasionally all three, depending on the place. Atlas ushers me to the right and past several closed doors, finally shouldering open the very last one. Inside is a shabby room that only has a saggy bed with a cheerful old quilt, an end table, and an adjoining washroom.
He guides me to the bed, and I sink gratefully onto it, trying to hold myself together as exhaustion tugs me down. There’s a dull pinch growing in my muscles, and the walls and the floor and the ceiling swim out of focus.
And then, all at once, the room is gone and I’m somewhere else. Someplace drenched in green, in plants that look nothing like the ones that line the central greenhouses. Plants that tower and twist and bloom with bright colors. Water beads across my skin. I’m surrounded by faces I don’t know but somehow love, and the air is filled with voices calling, calling out, calling my name—
An elbow nudges me in the ribs, not entirely gentle. “You still with us, Bruinn?”
I blink and look around, but it’s just me and Atlas again, no one else. I straighten a little, gripping the edge of the mattress. “Sorry. Must still be a little out of it.”
Atlas hums, skeptical, and then sits down next to me, his hands loosely folded in his lap. “I’m going to be honest, Val. I kind of hoped my brother and I would never see you again.”
I go still, my eyes fixed on the worn, tarnished floor. The words hit like a blow, knocking the wind out of me. I was never as close with Atlas when I was a kid, but I’d still known him, grown up alongside him. He’d always been soft-spoken and kind and never given me any idea that he might not like me.
Then again, that was all before Orion and I shattered apart.
“That sounded harsh.” Atlas heaves a long sigh. “But I’ve always appreciated knowing where I stand with folks, for better or worse, and I respect you enough to grant you the same in return.”
I clear my throat, feeling like I should say something in my own defense. “I wasn’t—I didn’t plan on it. Not until…”
I can’t finish the sentence, but that’s okay because he does it for me. “Your sisters,” he says, nodding solemnly. “Orion mentioned as much while Liren was patching you up.” He puts a hand gently on my shoulder. “I am sorry about that.”
Everything about his calm, sympathetic tone rankles, and I shrug him off with a snarl. “You don’t have to say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like they’re already heading for the Depths.” I twist my head to glare at him. “I’m going to get them back.Alive.”
He meets my glare without flinching. Just cool, solid energy. Nothing to burn against. “I have no doubt you will. I just wish you’d left my brother out of it. You hurt him plenty the first time around.”
That shuts me up again, and I look away. I’ve pretty deliberately never thought about how much I might’ve hurt Orion.
“You know, I figured out you were the Butcher years ago.” My eyes snap over to his face, and he smiles a little. “Don’t look so surprised. Just because you and Orion were off in your own little world, oblivious, doesn’t mean I wasn’t watching. I saw how you changed, when you changed, and I put the pieces together.” He shakes his head, staring off into some middle distance, remembering. “It seemed impossible at first. Valene Bruinn as the Butcher of Covenant. You were, what, fourteen years old? It was scary as shit to watch you turn into that, do you know that?”
I don’t. But I know what it felt like tobecomeit. How quickly and easily I slid down the slope after my first job. How little effort it took to pull on the mask and put blood on my blades. To throwout every good thing my parents ever taught me until the only moral code I had left was paper.
But I can’t admit that out loud. The words taste too bitter on my tongue. So I roll my eyes and push up off the bed, using the momentum to make it over to the window and sink against the sill. “I did what I needed to do to keep me and my sisters safe.”
“I understand that. I’m the same way, believe it or not.” Atlas gets to his feet, tucking his hands into his pockets as he turns to face me head-on. Everything about his stance is loose, relaxed, but his face is as dead serious as I’ve ever seen it. “So I need you to hear me right now, Valene Bruinn. The Butcher. Whoever you are. I am not a violent man. I’ve never shot a gun at anyone my entire life. But the moment you hurt my brother—or your mess gets him hurt—is the moment I break that streak, you understand?”
A flood of emotions sears through my body—anger, guilt, self-loathing—so bright and hot it almost blinds me from the inside out. My skin crawls with it, and I want to peel it off my body. But I can’t do that. So instead I swallow it all down, tighten my jaw against all the retorts and comebacks, and jerk my head in a quick nod.
