The Unfinished World (The Armor of God Book 2) (22 page)

“What? Oh. Dr. Mustang, it’s you. Good to see you’re still alive. Are you taking the spare room? You might have heard, but the list of houseguests is growing thin.”

Vivian gritted her teeth and looked away from Lara, who for one second looked remorseful at her comment.

“Good to see you too, it’s been a while,” he said, and glanced behind her.

Jed was there, buttoning up a white shirt. His pitiful eyes were fixed on Vivian; he saw through her mask, he knew she was hurting. Vivian looked away and held her breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m interrupting. I thought the study was empty, your mother sent me here,” said Mustang. “I’ll go elsewhere.”

“No, we’re leaving,” said Lara, and looked down at Vivian. She felt Lara’s judgmental eyes more strongly than usual, as though she blamed her for what had happened. “You can have the room.”

Lara walked past them and began descending the staircase, not waiting for Jed to join her. She didn’t know what they had interrupted, but it didn’t seem very romantic.

“Vivian,” Jed whispered, and then his strong arms were around her in a brotherly hug. She could smell Jed’s medicine and Lara’s perfume on his shirt. Suddenly, she was hugging him back, and she was crying.

“You told me—,” she tried to say, but he interrupted her.

“I know I told you everything would be okay. I didn’t mean to lie. I’m sorry it happened and I’m sorry you saw her that way. I should’ve been quicker to protect you, and I’m sorry. Remember we’re all here for you. We love you.”

“Why does everyone talk to me like it was
my
loss?” she asked, still crying.

“Because it was,” he replied, and finally let go. She left tracks of tears on his shirt.

Vivian didn’t see him walk down the stairs; she had diverted her eyes immediately after his hug, not wanting him to see her cry. She had to be strong, because it felt like strength, however little, was the only thing she had left of her previous self.

She closed the door.

“I feel a little sorry for them. They should be able to bring life into the world, even if things are the way they are. It’s a hard price to pay for the Creux,” said Mustang after they walked in and closed the door.

“What do you mean?” said Vivian.

“Because he can’t have children, I mean,” he said, first confidently, then hesitant. “You know this.”

“I did
not
know this!” she said, and he flushed. She could see sweat beading on his forehead.

“No, of course you did,” he said and pulled a chair Lara and Jed had moved to the corner of the room. Vivian waited for him to continue so she wouldn’t make the wrong interpretation of his words. When he finally turned to see her, expecting elaboration, his eyes told her that he had made a big mistake. “This isn’t really the first time you’ve heard about this, right? About the C-Compatible blood? Alice Nolan wrote about it; it was my understanding that you had read her book.”

“Yes, I’ve read her book. I’ve read her book
twice
! She wrote that
she
was infertile, just like her patron. She
never
wrote anything about it having anything to do with being C-Compatible,” she said, almost yelling.

“Vivian, I’m sorry. I thought you already knew. I would have never told you this way. I’m such an idiot, I’m sorry.”

“Are you saying that pilots are infertile? All of us?”

He didn’t need to speak again to give an answer.

She sat down on the floor—or rather, her legs just gave in under her, as though she had grown ten times heavier from one second to the next. Being a mother had never been part of her imaginary future, but the sudden impossibility felt like being stabbed in the heart again. She was ready to bleed out.

“Listen, I—,” he said, sitting on a chair. “It’s not easy for anyone involved, and it’s not something we ever talk about. Some pilots are told, depending on their psychological profile; yours fit with someone they would tell. Maybe in your case, Director Blanchard chose to spare you the pain, because of what happened with Alice. Your role in preserving humanity is more important than perpetuating it.”

“That sounds like a rehearsed line. It’s not the first time someone has said it,” she replied. “Is that the lie they mask as tact?”

Mustang looked away from her and then nodded. “I know what you’re thinking. That we’re monsters. But you should know we didn’t do this to you,” he said. “I came back to this house specifically because I thought we might all die soon, and just like you I didn’t want to wait for it to happen. If I die, I’m not going to die a monster.”

“I can’t do this,” she said. It was the first time she’d admitted it. How could she have expected to survive out there with Erin and Garros if she could barely do it in Roue? “I can’t.”

“Not alone, no,” replied Mustang, and offered his hand to help her up. “Your life, as it exists, even now, is more valuable than you realize. And I’m not talking about your blood. You’d be big, even if Rose Xibalba didn’t exist.”

She took a deep breath.

“But she
does
exist, thankfully, and by tomorrow evening, we’re going to put you back in control of her.”

ф

Dying was a boring business.

Ezra had expected something great at the time of death—lights and colors, the voice of someone he loved—but there was nothing except pain.

It took an eternity to realize that either the afterlife involved hellish torture, or that he hadn’t died at all, and that the only hell he found himself in was the one in which he was born.

Something had covered his face and he couldn’t breathe. His skin hurt, especially in the back of his head. Then there was cold as a frozen air rushed to his face when its cover was removed. The ringing in his ears was replaced by an obnoxious repetition: “Eh-Ah! Eh-Ah!”

Words took shape.

“Ezra!”

His soul returned to his body with a deep, cold breath. He opened his eyes and coughed.

“Ezra!”

Ezra was back in the cave, not entirely dead after all. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, but the collection of horrible stimulus—the stink of burnt hair and dead Flecks—proved to be overwhelming, and he almost vomited.

He had almost died. Again.

“Ezra!” It was Erin, kneeling next to him. The blur that was Erin became focused. He wiped his eyes and saw that hers were red, streams of tears running down her cheeks. She smiled, almost choked, with relieved laughter that sent spittle flying from her mouth.

When she put her arms around him he knew that he had lost some of his clothes, and that his skin was burnt; it hurt to the touch. He groaned at the pain, and she drew back her arms. “That’s twice now. Twice.”

“What happened?”

“You covered me,” she said, and licked her dry lips. “You took Milos’ attack and covered me from it. You could’ve died protecting me, and you knew that and you did it anyway.”

He brought his hand to the back of his neck and then felt every tendon tense. “What—what happened to my—”

“I’m sorry,” she said, putting her hand on his mostly bald head. “It’ll grow back. Akiva’s attack killed the Flecks but burned away most of it.”

He clutched at his head desperately, clawing at the tender skin as though it would make the hair grow back. Except for the front of his head, only stray tufts of hair remained. Ezra panicked. He rose to his feet, hands still looking for his lost mane. He became dizzy again, and fell back against the wall.

“Ezra, calm down,” Erin said, putting her hands on his shoulder, almost ready to slap him out of his desperate stupor. “I understand how you feel but this is a
minor loss
. This is something you can recover from. Ezra? Do you understand what happened? What you did?”

He wanted to speak again, but he could only gag, and then his panic was interrupted by the loud, crashing sounds of battle flooding through the tunnel and resonating within the chamber. Erin removed her eyes from Ezra for the first time to follow the sound. Lights beamed in quick and violent motions from the other end of the tunnel, where they had left the Creux.

Following Erin as she ran towards the sounds of battle, Ezra’s hands were still on his head, stabbing the skin in acute pain with every frantic grasp.

“Stop!” Erin’s voice screamed from the end of the tunnel.

At first he could only see her silhouette against the blinding lights that flashed past the darkness, could barely hear her over the crashing noises that made the entire mountain tremble as if afraid of the monsters it held inside. Whatever Ares and Milos were fighting, it was big.

“Just 
stop
!” she yelled again.

It was then, when he could finally see over Erin’s shoulder, that he realized that the two monstrous Creuxen weren’t fighting Laani, but each other. In such close quarters, when the two giants could barely fit inside the rocky hall, it was Ares who had the upper hand. It shoved Milos Ravana away, sending it crashing against the wall.

In the midst of their fight, both Nandi and Phoenix had suffered some damage, and both lay tumbled over, motionless, like stringless puppets. It hurt to see Nandi on the floor—it looked dead.

Ares charged against Milos, yet somehow the Armor of God could stop it despite being half its size. They locked hands in a desperate struggle to overpower each other. Ares was stronger, if barely. Ezra could see, almost hear, pieces in Milos’ shoulders begin to twist and snap.

Milos Ravana let out a scream of pain. Something he had heard from Lazarus. Something horrifying that chilled Ezra to his very core.

There was an explosion of light, a deafening crash, and when Ezra could see again, Ares lay lifeless at the other end of the room. Behind him, cracks on the wall.

Erin covered her mouth after one last scream that brought the fight to an end.

Milos Ravana turned its terrifying gaze towards them and after one second, he kneeled, as if in a respectful bow. The Apse under its chest opened and Akiva crawled out. He seemed dizzy, unsure of where he was.

Ares rose to its great height and approached Milos. Should Garros choose to do it, he could squash Akiva like an insect. Ares’ mask looked down at Milos, like he was considering giving one final, cheap blow. It didn’t. Instead, it took a step back and finally saw Erin and Ezra standing by the mouth of the tunnel.

“Garros!” she yelled. “I know you can hear me! I am okay!”

It took Ares a moment to react. Looking up at the iron beast, Erin brought her fists together and bumped them twice before raising her thumbs. Once more, Ares repeated the motion before walking closer towards them.

As it had done earlier, Ares placed his open palm near the edge of the tunnel for them to hop on to. With too much confidence, Erin jumped on Quantum Ares’ palm and invited Ezra to follow. Ezra did so, staring up at its face. Its fearsome helmet stared down at him with angry red eyes. He always forgot how much power they could wield—power none of them had ever
earned
.

Ares brought them down to ground level carefully and they joined Akiva.

“Did I do that?” Akiva said when he could take a closer look at Ezra; he must look worse than he imagined. “I’m sorry, Ezra. I had to think fast or the Carriers would’ve destroyed you. I’m really sorry.”

“No, this is—,” he put his hand on his head again and tried to ignore the anger and revulsion in his stomach; he refused to be so vain. “This is something I can recover from.”

There was admiration in Erin’s eyes when he said these words.

“What the hell were you two doing?” she said, trying to impose herself in front of Akiva. “We have enough trouble with the Laani trying to kill us without us killing each other!”

“
He
attacked me!” Akiva protested. “I was horrified. For one second I thought I had lost control of the attack I sent into the tunnel; I really knew exactly what he was doing, but how could I tell Garros that?”

The man in question appeared behind Erin and hugged her again. He didn’t need to say anything; everyone around them knew exactly what he was thinking—they were words he had spoken too many times before:
I almost lost you again
.

“Garros, listen—”

Akiva couldn’t finish his sentence before Garros took a swing and connected a powerful punch against his cheek. Akiva fell to the floor just as Erin screamed out and ran to help him up.

“That was
too goddamn close
, Davenport,” Garros growled, shaking pain off his hand.

“
What the hell are you doing
?!” Erin yelled at Garros, but he ignored her. “Garros!
Let it go
!”

“I saved her life,” Akiva said, getting up and holding the spot where he took the punch—a punch that just days earlier had sent Ezra to sleep for hours. Akiva really was much stronger. “You don’t understand it now but I did.”

“He did!” Erin yelled. “He and Ezra.”

“Are you okay?” Garros said, looking at Ezra.