Edge of the Falls (After the Fall) (25 page)

She wrinkles her nose. "Mid-day. You need a bath before you go wandering the house."

I stick my tongue out at her, surprising a giggle from her. It makes me smile, albeit weakly. She hugs me, hard. "I'm sorry, Sabah."

I pat her back, fresh tears stinging my eyes. I feel like I have done nothing but cry for days.

Maybe because I haven't.

**

Water cascades around me, and my thoughts—as always—are tugged to Arjun. What, I wonder, would he do if he knew I was like this? That I was this depressed?

I can almost see the disappointment filling his golden eyes--the incredulous disbelief in Merc's. Even the disdain in Rook's.

It makes me flush. They thought better of me. They sent me home, in search of a cure they had been unable to gain on their own. My shoulders twitch, straighten. I had done what the oh-so-strong pack could not.

If I could face the Mistress and defy her, survive Outside, couldn't I do this? What was surviving heartbreak and the Commission, in comparison?

I straighten, my muscles loosening deliciously under the hot spray. My heart still hurts, and when I lick my lips, I can taste him—a phantom kiss—lingering there. I close my eyes; shake my head. Those thoughts won't help me.

Merc swims in my memory for a moment, lazy and mocking,
You promised to think
.

I shut off the water angrily, wishing it would shut off his words.

Kaida is sitting in the hallway with Cedric. She smiles at me, a pleased smile. A familiar bag sits in Cedric's lap.

"I thought you'd want it," he says, toying with the broken strap.

I feel a pang. Does he realize that it holds no memories for me? The one memento I have is on my wrist, a supple bracelet shackling me to my memories.

"Where is everyone?" I ask, taking the bag as Kaida hops to her feet. She helps Cedric stand, hands him a cane—he will never fully recover from the shattered leg that is his legacy from the Mistress' obsession.

"The older girls are in the library. The rest are in the greenhouse. Berg and Spiro are hunting, and the Mistress is in her quarters."

I grin at Kaida's recitation. "And how did you two manage to wiggle out of chores?" I ask.

Cedric snorts. "No one else wanted to drag you out of your room."

Kaida gives him a dirty look, but I appreciate his honesty. It’s refreshing in this house of secrets.

“What do you suppose the Mistress wants?” Kaida asks, tilting her head.

I shrug, but I know. It can be only one of two things—to announce finding the garden, or to tell the children that Berg and I are leaving.

I stare at Kaida and Cedric, the way they seem to lean toward each other, supporting each other without touching. I’ve seen them act the same when Guin is around, effortlessly working him into their self-contained world.

“What happened, when I was Outside?” I ask.

Kaida exchanges a long look with Cedric. “It’s not important,” she says, her voice suddenly steely.

I meet her glare—she’s good at it, but she learned it from me. Cedric sighs. “Berg shut down. He quit hunting, quit reading, quit sleeping. He stayed in your garret all hours of the day. Even the Mistress couldn’t get through to him. And she was depressed, too. Alba stepped in, but she…” he trails off.

“She can’t do what you did,” Kaida says flatly. “The twins were being neglected, the house was in chaos—lessons stopped completely. So we,” she nods to indicate Cedric and I know Guin is also included, “stepped up. Helped Gwen and Cook. I took care of the twins, Guin started lessons for all of us, or tried. Alba, Dayila, and Lilith stayed away as much as possible.” She shrugs, as if their behavior was acceptable.

I stare at them—children. That I left them alone now seems inexcusable. They deserved better than this. Kaida should not have to grow up this fast. None of them should.

Kaida touches my shoulder, and smiles at me, a knowing smile. “We did what we had to,” she says. “And now you’re home.”

I nod, feeling so guilty, I am surprised I can stand. How long, I wonder, until I abandon them again? It’s the price I willingly offered for the cure—the cure the man who abandoned me needed.

What does that say about me?

Cedric and Kaida go in search of Guin, and I take the bag to my room. I let it spill open on the bed, and wonder what to do with this mess—pack it all up? Throw it away? Most of it belongs to Berg. There is a scrap of paper, neatly folded. It rests on top of my water pure, and it more than anything catches my attention. I do not remember it.

An unfamiliar hand has scribbled on the outside of the paper:

When you’re ready, when you’ve listened to what he
said
. Not until then
.

It can only be Merc. It sounds like him.

I begin to open it when I remember the hurt look in his eyes, the night of the acidstorm. Whatever this is, he trusts me to wait until I am ready. And I know that I am not.

I wonder if I ever will be.

**

Berg looks tired. I notice it as we sit, the children unnaturally quiet, waiting for the Mistress. Cook is humming softly as she and Gwen carry food to the table.

The Mistress comes in quietly, murmurs to Cook, and takes her seat at the head of the table. All eyes are drawn to her, and I am somewhat surprised by this woman. After everything I have learned, all the secrets that have shaken our lives in the past weeks, I still admire her and her strength that never seems to fail. She gestures for Cook to wait and leans forward.

“As you are all aware, Sabah reached Majority while she was away,” Mistress says. A feeling of finality settles on me as I realize what announcement she is making. I suppress a sigh. “I know there has been speculation as to what would happen then.”

Alba straightens in her seat—she will reach Majority next, almost seven months from now.

“Some of you have gathered that despite my Exile, the Commission humors me on occasion. Before Longest Night, I had Berg tested at the University.”

I glance at him—he’s staring at his empty plate.

“The Commission has agreed to give him Citizenship, based on the level he achieved.” There is a distinct note of pride in Mistress’ voice as she says this. A gasp runs the table, a soft murmur of excitement, before she adds, “And Sabah will be going with him, as his Insurance.”

Her words are met with silence, and I glance down the table. Kaida’s eyes are huge and confused. Alba is furious, Dayila looking between the two of us fearfully. I feel a pang of sympathy for the poor girl—Alba will be hellish over the next few days, I’m sure.

“What about the rest of us?” Lilith asks, her voice shrill.

Mistress sighs. “I will, of course, do my best to see you all settled and safe. I can’t promise Citizenship—but for most of you, we have years yet.”

“When are you leaving?” Guin asks, quietly. The question is directed at Berg and me, and I glance at Berg. I have no idea, and from the blank expression on his face, he doesn’t either. I stifle a sigh—has it even occurred to him that Citizenship would entail leaving the Manor and the Mistress?

“Within the week,” Mistress says. I exchange a wild look with Berg, and look at her.

“That soon?” I demand. “Is that necessary?”

Mistress’ eyes are unflinching when she looks at me. They’re hard, brown stones, and it makes me pale. When she looks this cold, this remote, it is terrifying. “Berg is to report to the University in two weeks,” she says, icily. “I would think you’d both appreciate time to settle in before then.”

That makes sense. I can’t look at Kaida— at any of them. I can’t face the hurt in their eyes.

“Tomorrow, your sponsor will be by to discuss the move.”

A sponsor? I try to hide my confusion, looking at my plate. Without saying anything else, Mistress motions for Cook to bring the food to the table.

Silence descends, broken only by the soft clatter of plates and slurps of soup. I concentrate on my food. On anything other than Kaida sniffling between Guin and Cedric, or Alba glaring at me.

As Cook and Gwen clear the bowls of stew and bring in a platter of roasted potatoes, Kaida jerks to her feet. She says something, but I can’t understand it she’s so incoherent. Guin starts to stand, and the Mistress levels a glare at him. “Sit down,” she snaps.

“I’ll go,” I say, standing.

I don’t wait for her to nod, just hurry after Kaida.

She’s collapsed on the couch in the library, and ignores me as I sink down to the floor next to her. I rub her shoulders, sharp under the thin dress she wears in the house. I’ll need to speak to Lilith about getting Kaida a new dress, before I leave.

“It’s not that bad,” I murmur, brushing her hair away from her face. “You have the boys, you know.”

“You’re both leaving,” she whimpers into the cushion.

There is that—it won’t just be me vanishing into the City. Berg will, too.

“Who will tell me stories?” she asks, her voice pathetically small. I flinch. That isn’t a question I can answer—I don’t want to answer. It is too much. Too sharp a reminder that she is still only a child.

“You’ll tell each other stories,” I force myself to say. “They love you, Kaida. And the love from a good friend—that can get you through some amazing and impossible things.”

She looks at me, her face streaked with tears. “They aren’t you.”

I gather her in my arms, and kiss her hair. There is no false assurance I can offer. So I say instead, “Let me tell you a story.

“There was a girl. She lived in a beautiful, ancient castle that was very dangerous. It was filled with secrets and stories she never imagined. But despite that, she was happy there. She had a family she loved. A beautiful queen—even a handsome prince.” I smile. “But something happened.”

“What?” Kaida’s voice is curious.

“She grew up,” I say simply. “She began to see the secrets that lay hidden in plain sight. And they disturbed her. She worried—for herself, for the children who filled the castle with laughter, for her prince, and the queen.

“One day, she was thinking while she took a walk. And she somehow lost the castle. She wandered in the woods, until she found a beast. He was angry, furious. He wanted her to go back to her castle. But she was intrigued by him. And she did not know, anymore, where home was. So she stayed with the beast. She found herself less and less scared of him. And somehow, somewhere between learning about the curse that had made him so angry and befriending his family, she fell in love with him. With all of them.”

Kaida’s tears have dried, and she stares at me, rapt with attention.

“But there was the handsome prince. And the children. They tugged at her, despite her love of the beast. One day, there was a terrible fire—it destroyed half of the woods, and left one of the beast’s brothers maimed. And the beast was so angry. He sent the girl away. It made him sad, and it broke her heart, but she went, because he didn’t love her. They said their goodbyes and she went to live with her prince.”

“And the beast?” she demands.

I smile. “He went back to the woods. Guarded his family. Forgot there was ever a girl in a castle who loved him.”

She looks at me, her nose wrinkled. “Sabah, that story is awful.”

I laugh, and tickle her. “That’s why I let Berg tell them.”

She squirms away from me, and leans back on the couch. For a long time, we’re quiet, listening to the clatter from the kitchen and the soft crackle of the fire. The thump of feet on the stairs.

“We know,” she says presently, “about the secrets.”

Alarm fills me and I look at her sharply. She adds, “Not what they are, but we know the Mistress is hiding something.”

Relief fills me. “Don’t forget that, sweetheart. Trust the boys—and yourself.”

She nods, then asks, “Will we see you again?”

I think of the way Berg watches the Mistress. The love of knowledge that lies between them, an unbreakable cord. I try to imagine Berg without his head bent over a book, the Mistress watching from a few steps away. It’s impossible.

“Yes.”

Kaida sighs, satisfied, resting her head on my shoulder.

The boys find us, eventually. They approach cautiously, giving either of us time to send them away. Cedric drops into a chair, his eyes darting over us, as Guin clears his throat. “Berg is looking for you.”

I shrug. “He’ll find me.” Guin and Cedric exchange a look and lapse into a comfortable silence.

“She was wrong,” Kaida says at last.

“Who was?” Cedric asks, confused.

“The girl in the story. She thought he didn’t love her. That he’d forget,” she looks at me, her eyes bright, challenging. “But he wanted her safe. He did love her—enough to send her where he thought she would be safest.”

Sharp edges stab my palm as I sit and stare at the fire. Merc’s words taunt me, as much as Kaida’s pronouncement from last night. Deep inside, I can feel hope taking root, despite my best efforts. My hand clenches on the tiny note, and for a moment, I want to throw it into the flames.

Merc had insisted that if I listened to what was actually said, I would know. But know what, exactly? And how much clearer could Arjun have been?

You have to go back.

You have to stay there.

Even now, I want to scream to block the words that have been an echoing refrain all through the long night, want to scream that this wasn’t my choice.
He
had sent me back to the City.

A knock startles me, and I shove the folded paper under my pillow. Berg pokes his head into the room and I smooth the front of my new yellow dress. “Is he here?”

He shakes his head. “He’s not coming.”

“Why not?” I demand, standing.

“The Mistress needs to speak to both of us.”

He avoids my eyes, and I stifle the urge to yell at him. Instead I follow him through the Manor, up to my garret. I am surprised that she chose this for our meeting.

She’s holding a miniature tablet in her lap. I can see a hovertransport outside.

If our sponsor is not coming, why is there a hovertransport?