Legacy: The Girl in the Box #8 (33 page)

“To tell the truth,” Winter said finally.

“Which you could have told her at any point previously, if you’d been of a mind to,” Sovereign said. “No, now you’re here because you’re scared. Because a system that you helped prop up, that made you wealthy and gave you power, is about to crumble. That scares you, scares you enough that you’d scar a teenage girl for life in hopes that she’d protect you—your position, your power—from the change that’s coming.” He shook his head at Winter. “Your legacy is going to be that you did it all for naught.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” I said. By now I was just cocking off, still hesitating. I didn’t want to attack him, and I didn’t know why. He was just being so damned ... polite.

“Don’t you realize what’s going on here?” Sovereign turned on the passion, and I could feel it exude from him. “He’s got you fighting for a world where the people who were supposed to show you the most care betrayed you, hurt you, left you. You’re lined up to defend a world that has made you lonely, bitter and mournful. I know you don’t want to hear it, and this whole ... this extinction, you call it ... this isn’t how I would want to get to where we’re going. But there aren’t any other viable options. The old world has to be torn down to bring about a new one.” I could hear the remorse in his voice, and I knew— somehow
knew
—that he actually felt the pain; he wasn’t just putting me on. “I don’t want to do what we have to do. It took a long time to convince myself that it was right. I don’t expect you’ll come around until you see the result, I really don’t. You’ve been beaten down, broken, shattered by people you trusted. I don’t think you’ll look at me and see someone who’s trustworthy for a long time, not with what I’m doing, how we’re going about this. But I know that when we’re done, you’ll be able to look out on what we’ve built, and it’ll be a shining world, something new and bright without the rough edges and cruelty you’ve come to know from this one.”

“And who’s going to live in this world of yours?” I asked, practically choking up. “The five people who haven’t ever done anything bad, haven’t ever hurt a soul?” I glared at him.

“Everyone could have a place in that world, that’s the point,” Sovereign said. “It won’t take as much as you think.”

“I don’t think I have a place there,” I said. “I don’t think I could live in your world.” I put my hands up one last time. “I’m going to fight you now.”

“I won’t fight you, Sienna,” he said, shaking his head. “I won’t. I’m not here to harm you. I’m here to save you.”

I felt a curious swell of emotion, some great sadness and longing that I didn’t want to feel, but it was there anyway. “Well, I’m here to save the world, so I don’t think you’re going to have a choice.”

I launched myself at him, a little slow, halfhearted, and he dodged by hovering right out of my path. I landed and turned, and he hung a couple feet off the ground behind me, watching me with sad eyes. “I told you I don’t want to fight you.”

“I don’t feel the same,” I said and pulled my gun. I ran through the magazine, sixteen rounds, and he stood there all the while, never moving. When the smoke from the chamber cleared and the action was open, he still hovered, and I heard a faint clinking. I looked down to see the bullets falling off of him, hitting the concrete floor of the construction site one by one.

“You can’t hurt me,” he said, shaking his head. “And I won’t hurt you.” He swept to my right, hovering just behind Winter. “But I’ll tell you what ... here’s a gift for you. Take Winter. Do what you want to him.”

Winter’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

“You think I give a damn about Winter now?” I shook my head at him, incredulous. “You’re a pretty lousy mind reader if you think I’m going to waste my effort on him while you’re still hovering over there, ready to destroy everything—everything I hold dear.”

“Sweetheart ... all the things you hold dear are things you shouldn’t,” he said, looking down on me with sadness. “The things that have hurt you.”

“Sure, tell me how to feel, that’ll fix everything.” I nodded at Winter. “What I see is this—another guy who just has plans to make the world over in whatever image he wants, not really caring that everyone else might not want to share his vision. Sure, yours is grander than his, but your intentions are exactly the same. Remake your corner of the sky to your exacting specifications, and to hell with the consequences for the people who don’t fit into your plan.” I almost spat at his feet. “You want to talk about legacy? Yours is a mass grave.”

He gave me a haunted smile, a kind of half-hearted expression that didn’t even look like he was remotely happy. “The people who change the world? They almost always have a mass grave under their feet. Most of the time that doesn’t end up being their legacy, though.” He stared me down. “What about you? You’re digging a pretty large gravesite at this point. You don’t want to at least examine the reason why it’s happening?”

“I ...” I started to answer, then found I couldn’t. I didn’t really have one. Everything that had happened, everything I’d done, I had no words to reason for it, not now. I just stood there, blinking, not sure what to say to the surprisingly warm brown eyes that were staring at me expectantly, as if I should know the reason why I’d killed so many people.

And then Old Man Winter was flung through the air into Sovereign’s back, knocking him over, and the need to craft an answer became completely irrelevant.

Hildegarde rose to her feet, her hair whipping back behind her, retracting from where she’d thrown Winter into Sovereign’s exposed back. She took one look at me, then at her crony, and bolted, running full out around the corner of the wall segment that Sovereign had appeared from behind. I stood there, a little confused, not really sure if I should be doing something or if continuing to do nothing was the appropriate play. After only a moment’s pause, her Hercules followed suit, running off in the opposite direction, dodging behind a corner and out of view.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Sovereign said, and rose into the air as Winter fell off his back. Sovereign shook his head then flashed into flight around the corner where Hildegarde had just vanished. I was left staring at Erich Winter, whose hunched frame was slowly getting up off the ground.

“He will destroy you, you know,” Winter said. “Whatever he says is lies.”

I blinked, as though I could clear my head of the surreal imagery I had just seen merely by doing that. “I guess you two have that in common, then.”

“I never lied to you,” he said, easing to his feet, shoulders still stooped. “I may not have always told you everything, but I did it to try to protect you—”

“Spare me the warmed over, empty air that you’re flinging in my direction,” I said. “Your excuses are doing nothing but adding carbon dioxide to the atmosphere.” He quieted, and a long, piercing scream came from somewhere in the distance. It was male, and it cut off after a moment. “I guess we just found out who’s stronger than Hercules.”

“He will kill everyone,” Winter said. “You heard him admit as much yourself.”

“I did,” I said. “I also watched you order your goons to force me to drain Bjorn, then my boyfriend, in order to piss me off and make me kill people.”

“You needed to prepare,” he said. “You needed to lose your hesitation.” Another scream followed his words, this one from a woman, and only slightly farther away, judging by the sound. “He is coming.”

“Yeah,” I said. “If he doesn’t kill you, by the way, you’re under arrest.” Winter cocked his head at me, most curiously. “Senator Foreman sends his regards. He’s a little miffed that you fled the country rather than making at least some report to him.”

“I had important work to attend to,” Winter said.

“Yeah, I bet fleeing my impending wrath was crucial to your strategy of saving your own ass to work another day.”

“Sorry about that,” Sovereign said as he flew back around the corner, sweeping low to avoid the rebar ceiling. “I, uh ...” He met my gaze. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had to kill those two. I don’t normally go for killing if I can avoid it—witness this guy here,” he waved at Winter, “but in this case, I mean, their time was pretty limited anyway, and hitting me in the back of the head with a Norseman? I can only handle so much insult from someone who’s already killed my people while trying to impress me.” He looked from me to Winter. “Sorry, did I interrupt? I can wait. Really. If you two have business to hash out, you go right ahead.”

I let out an impatient exhalation. “I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to fight. This is how it always ends—talk, fight, done. It’s a cycle. Don’t mess with the process.”

“Sorry,” Sovereign said. “I’m not going to fight you. I’m sure Weissman will, when you stick your nose in his end of the operation again, but not me.” He didn’t look like a fifteen-year-old, not anymore, and he had sadness aplenty that differentiated him from someone that young. “I’ve warned him about killing you, though.” His jaw tightened. “I thought he knew better before, but ... I had to teach him a lesson after Andromeda. That never should have happened. And for that, as well, you have my apologies.” He bowed his head in contrition.

“Oh, for the love of—” I said, groaning. “You’re here to apologize me to death?”

“No, I came here to save you,” he said. “From Hildegarde. Like I said, she was planning to betray you, to capture you, and turn you over to us. She figured it was her way in.”

“I don’t think I needed saving from some over-muscled louse or some lady with really bad hair extensions.”

“But you’re not going to turn it down, right?” He raised his arms at each side, like he was questioning. “In fairness, there were a couple other reasons to come visit. One was to ... introduce myself. Formally. Now that some of the cards are on the table and things are in motion.” He turned to Winter. “There is one more, though.”

Winter stood off against him, lowering his frame to a defensive stance. “No. You won’t—”

Sovereign moved against him in a flash, grasping him by the front of his shirt and lifting him up. “Yeah. I think we established a long time ago who has the power between you and me, Erich.” He turned to me. “Anything you want to say to Old Man Winter before I finish him off?”

“Ummm ...” I stuttered a little, not really sure what I could say. It came to me after about a second. “Don’t kill him,” I said quietly. “He’s not worth it. I’ll put him in a jail cell and he can sit the rest of this fight out.”

I saw him think about it for a second or two, a grimace plastered all over his youthful face. “No. I’m sorry, no. I think the world needs to know something, and he’s going to be my messenger, my example.” He turned and looked Winter in the eye. “If you inflict pain on Sienna Nealon, I will visit it one thousand fold back upon you.” He reached out with his free hand and touched Winter in the chest, just touched him, delicately, as if he were administering the slightest of pokes.

Winter grunted, then moaned, and fire sprang from the spot on his chest where Sovereign had touched him, fanning out in an explosive burst across his clothing and his body. His screams rose over the sound of the crackling flames as they raced over him, consuming his flesh.

I dodged away, my hands over my face, turning from the light of the burning pyre as it consumed him, burned him, and the screaming didn’t cease until I heard the thud of a body hitting the ground, followed by muffled moans from the scorched and blackened form of Erich Winter. The smell was horrific, like someone had char-roasted something under my nose, and it smelled nothing like chicken.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sovereign said, sighing. “I could have flown him off, I guess, before I did it, but I figured you two might have some last words to exchange afterward.” He hovered closer to me, but not so close I felt like I could take a swipe at him. After what I’d seen, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to. “I like that you wanted to spare him. I think it shows that ... whatever he did to you, it didn’t really work. It didn’t change your heart.” He started to reach out, and I stayed right where I was, frozen in place, as he came closer, as he brushed my cheek then let his hand hover there. “Whatever you’ve done, there’s still an abundance of good in you.”

I looked up at him, felt the gentle touch of his hand on my cheek, and I stared into those deep, brown eyes. “Are you sure?” I asked.

“I’m sure,” he said so soothingly it was like the most heartfelt reassurance I’ve ever heard. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. There’s so much good in you.”

“Really?” I tried to keep my voice level and reached up for his hand, brushing it, holding it against my cheek. “You think there’s good in me?” I reached up with my other hand and anchored his open palm to my face as I pulled his face close to mine. My voice turned low and harsh. “Why don’t you come inside and find out for yourself?”

I forced his hand against my skin, hard, pressing it to me as he stood there, dumbstruck, and I counted the seconds, waiting for something to happen. I expected him to flee, to fight back, to run, and I waited for my power to work over the sound of the wind blowing sporadically through the construction site, counting the moments and waiting for it to do something, anything.

After a minute passed, he gently tugged his hand away. “I know you didn’t intend for that to be meaningful ... but for me it kind of was.”

“How did you do that?” I asked, staring at him, my last desperate gambit blown.

“You’ve met someone else before that your touch didn’t effect, didn’t you?” He was a little coy, acting mysterious, but I could see just the hint of hurt behind his eyes.

“Andromeda?” I asked, feeling my bare fingers brush against my palm and remembering the touch of the girl who had died almost without a friend. And now, I knew, completely in vain.

He nodded slowly. “She must have made a hell of an impression. I should be going. Thank you for reminding me, though, Sienna.”

“Reminding you about what?” I asked, my voice hoarse. It was the middle of the damned night, and I was completely drained. I hadn’t fought, but I felt like I’d been through twelve rounds with him.