Reykin’s face changes. He loses some of his anger. The struggle in his eyes is real. “Roselle . . . I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it. Your father was murdered last night.”
“I know. I saw him. I killed his murderers.” I think the shock of what happened last night is finally wearing off. My hands are trembling, and my throat aches with emotion I refuse to show. “He wanted to be buried in Virtues—beside his parents. He told me that. He said, ‘Don’t let them entomb me in that Sword whorehouse.’ We were at my grandfather’s funeral. He was drunk, of course, but he made me swear not to let his body rot in the Sword Mausoleum.”
“He was the Fated Sword. Your mother is expected to hold his body in state and inter him in that shrine.”
I grit my teeth. “He didn’t want to be there. It’s insanity to give his body to his murderers. Do you know what they did to him?”
“No.”
“They cut out his tongue. They literally made him hold his tongue.”
“You can’t stop what they’ll do with his body. You won’t even be allowed at his funeral.”
He’s right. Transitioned secondborns are rarely allowed to attend the funeral of a parent. In Swords, it’s usually because we die before our parents. But if that doesn’t happen, the surviving secondborn isn’t welcome at the funeral because it makes the rest of the family uncomfortable, and maybe a little afraid for the firstborn. “This is an insane world, Reykin.”
“I know.”
“I still need to see him. I need to say good-bye.”
“Your father was a cruel man.”
“Still.”
Reykin sighs. “I’ll see what I can do to find out where his body is.”
We fly in silence to the gorgeous city of Purity, though I hardly see any of it because I’m lost in thought. “Reykin?”
“Yes.”
“Can I ask you a question . . . about your family?” I glance at him. He nods. “After Census murdered them, did they allow you to bury them?”
He stiffens. “No,” he replies softly. “My mother and brother were dragged through the streets of our town, and then left in the square to rot. I wasn’t allowed to move them. My father was killed trying to defend them. They set his body on fire.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, holding back tears. I can’t cry. Not now.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s actually normal. After a battle, one or two fights between Sword soldiers usually break out. Someone will accuse someone else of being reckless or thoughtless. They’ll usually brawl. It’s a reaction to fear. Fear turns to anger, and they need to put it somewhere, or they’ll turn it inward. It’s probably healthier to vent it. You were afraid I was dead. When you found out I wasn’t, your fear turned to anger. You know what that means, right?”
“No,” Reykin replies.
“It means you care about me.”
He turns on me, his stare cold, devoid of emotion. “You’ve got it wrong. I care about no one. The only thing I want is revenge. You’re a means to an end, Roselle. I need you to help me topple a government. As soon as we accomplish that, I’ll have no more use for you.”
I’m not sure why his words destroy me like they do. The heat of embarrassment floods my cheeks. “You may not care about me, but you care about your brothers. I can see it on your face when you talk about them.”
“Not in the way you think. My heart is gone, Roselle.”
“I think it’s the opposite. I think you carry around all their hearts now.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growls. “Just do your job so I don’t have to kill you.”
His words are a punch in my stomach. “Now who’s the cruel man?”
“Did I hurt your feelings?” he asks with derision.
I refuse to answer him.
We’re stopped by security at the Halo Palace gates. The airship hovers by the barriers as we wait for clearance. Our arrival causes an uproar. Drone cameras and beat reporters who lurk near the grounds converge on the airship, beating on the glass and yelling questions that are too muffled to make out. The guards draw their weapons on the raucous crowd, pushing them back. Our vehicle is quickly scanned and searched. An Exo guard says, “You’re both required to report immediately to the Upper Halo pad 985. Do you need coordinates for the dock?”
“No,” Reykin replies. The airship flies forward and into the sprawling landscape of the Halo Palace grounds. We gain altitude, lifting toward the golden halo-shaped crown. The sea beside us is magnificent. White flags and pointed spires from Balmora’s Sea Fortress are visible as we climb higher, and the castle is surrounded by the crystal-blue high tide.
Reykin’s tone is gruff as he says, “I was hoping to avoid this until later.” He scrutinizes me. The frown on his face indicates I’m a disaster. “Just tell them what happened last night. You have nothing to hide.”
I don’t look at him, but I lift my arms and fight the urge to weave my hair into a thick plait. “So, you do believe that nothing happened between Hawthorne and me.”
“You can hardly breathe. Whatever happened last night, it wasn’t much fun.”
“How do I explain how you found me?”
“You had Hawthorne contact me on your behalf because you’re supposed to be my slave for the day.”
I snort with derision. “I’d never do that. I’d contact Dune first.”
“Then lie. Or maybe you can say that you asked Hawthorne to contact me because I care about you.”
My heart aches. “Don’t make me regret saving your life, Reykin.”
He lands the airship on a golden platform. Once it’s secure, a wide hangar opens. The platform moves, swinging sideways, bringing us inside the hangar. The doors close, and Dune emerges from an interior doorway ahead of us. His face is lined with fatigue.
Exiting the vehicle on my own, I walk to meet Dune. He watches me, his gaze missing nothing. His eyes shift to Reykin. “Thank you.” Dune’s deep voice resonates in the hangar. Reykin simply nods. “How bad is it?” Dune asks me. His concern is muted. Injury is part of secondborn Sword life. It’s unavoidable.
“No worse than most of our training days,” I reply with the same detachment.
“I’ll have my physician examine you,” Dune says.
“It’s unnecessary,” I reply.
Dune frowns. “You’re required to answer questions from The Virtue about last night.”
I want to lash out at Dune for not allowing me some time to recover before subjecting me to an inquiry. The lack of empathy for me after what I’ve been through is appalling, though I expected it. I nod and force my anger down.
Dune ushers me into the corridor. Reykin trails us. I’m led to the Grand Foyer near the air elevators. Security has doubled. Everyone is scanned, even Dune, which makes me want to laugh. He wouldn’t need a weapon to kill The Virtue.
The portraits of Fabian Bowie and his wife, Adora, stare at us as we ascend the stairs. I need to hold on to the railing, and my progress is slow. Reykin tries to take my elbow, but I snatch it away.