Legend Trilogy Boxed Set, Page 59

  Goose bumps rise on my arms. A memory flashes through my mind of the night Metias died, when Commander Jameson escorted me to where his body lay. “Too bad that didn’t work out, isn’t it?” I snap. This time I can’t keep the venom out of my words. I hope they execute you as unceremoniously as they did Razor.

  Commander Jameson only laughs at me. Her eyes dilate. “Better be careful, Iparis,” she whispers. “You might turn out just like me.”

  The words chill me to the bone, and I finally have to turn away and break my stare away from hers. The soldiers guarding her cell don’t look at me; they just keep staring forward. I continue walking. Behind me, I can still hear her soft, low chuckle. My heart pounds against my ribs.

  Thomas is being held inside a rectangular cell with thick glass walls, thick enough that I can’t hear anything of what’s happening inside. I wait outside, steadying myself after my encounter with Commander Jameson. For an instant I wonder whether I should have stayed away and turned down his final request; maybe that would have been for the best.

  Still, if I leave now, I’ll have to face Commander Jameson again. I might need a little more time to prepare myself for that. So I take a deep breath and step toward the steel bars lining Thomas’s cell door. A guard opens it, lets two additional guards in after me, and then closes it behind us. Our footsteps echo in the small, empty chamber.

  Thomas gets up with a clank of his chains. He looks more disheveled than I’ve ever seen him, and I know that if his hands were completely free, he’d go about ironing his rumpled uniform and combing his unruly hair right away. But instead, Thomas clicks his heels together. Not until I tell him to relax his stance does he look at me.

  “It’s good to see you, Princeps-Elect,” he says. Is there a hint of sadness in his serious, stern face? “Thank you for indulging my final request. It won’t be long now before you’re rid of me entirely.”

  I shake my head, angry with myself, irritated that in spite of everything he has done, Thomas’s unshakable loyalty to the Republic still stirs a drop of sympathy from me. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable,” I tell him. He doesn’t hesitate for a second—in a uniform motion, we both kneel down onto the cold cell floor, him leaning against the cell wall, me folding my legs underneath me. We stay like that for a moment, letting the awkward silence between us linger.

  I speak up first. “You don’t need to be so loyal to the Republic anymore,” I reply. “You can let go, you know.”

  Thomas only shakes his head. “It’s the duty of a Republic soldier to be loyal to the end, and I’m still a soldier. I will be one until I die.”

  I don’t know why the thought of him dying tugs on my heartstrings in so many strange ways. I’m happy, relieved, angry, sad. “Why did you want to see me?” I finally ask.

  “Ms. Iparis, before tomorrow comes . . .” Thomas trails off for a second before continuing. “I want to tell you the full details of everything that happened to Metias that night at the hospital. I just feel . . . I feel like I owe it to you. If anyone should know, it’s you.”

  My heart begins to pound. Am I ready to relive all of that again—do I need to know this? Metias is gone; knowing the details of what happened will not bring him back. But I find myself meeting Thomas’s gaze with a calm, level look. He does owe it to me. More importantly, I owe it to my brother. After Thomas is executed, someone should carry on the memory of my brother’s death, of what really happened.

  Slowly, I steady my heartbeat. When I open my mouth, my voice cracks a little. “Fine,” I reply.

  His voice grows quieter. “I remember everything about that night. Every last detail.”

  “Tell me, then.”

  Like the obedient soldier he is, Thomas begins his story. “On the night of your brother’s death, I took a call from Commander Jameson. We were waiting with the jeeps outside the hospital’s entrance. Metias was chatting with a nurse in front of the main sliding doors. I stood behind the jeeps some distance away. Then the call came.”

  As Thomas speaks, the prison around us melts away and is replaced by the scene of that fateful night, the hospital and the military jeep and the soldiers, the streets as if I were walking right beside Thomas, seeing all that he saw. Reliving the events.

  “I whispered a greeting to Commander Jameson over my earpiece,” Thomas continues. “She didn’t bother greeting me back.

  “‘It has to be done tonight,’ she told me. ‘If we don’t act now, your captain may plan an act of treason against the Republic, or even against the Elector. I’m giving you a direct order, Lieutenant Bryant. Find a way to get Captain Iparis to a private spot tonight. I don’t care how you do it.’”

  Thomas looks me in the eye now and repeats, “An act of treason against the Republic. I tightened my jaw. I’d been dreading this inevitable call, ever since I’d first learned about Metias’s hacking into the deceased civilians’ databases. Keeping secrets from Commander Jameson was damn near impossible. My eyes darted to your brother at the entrance. ‘Yes, Commander,’ I whispered.

  “‘Good,’ she said. ‘Tell me when you’re ready—I’ll send in separate orders to the rest of your patrol to be at a different location during that time. Make it quick and clean.’

  “That’s when my hand began to shake. I tried to argue with the Commander, but her voice only turned colder. ‘If you don’t do it, I will. Believe me, I will be messier about it—and no one’s going to be happy that way. Understood?’

  “I didn’t answer her right away. Instead I watched your brother as he shook hands with the nurse. He turned around, searching for me, and then spotted me by the jeeps. He waved me over, and I nodded, careful to keep my face blank. ‘Understood, Commander,’ I finally answered.

  “‘You can do it, Bryant,’ she told me. ‘And if you’re successful, consider yourself promoted to captain.’ The call cut off.

  “I joined Metias and another soldier at the hospital entrance. Metias smiled at me. ‘Another long night, eh? I swear, if we’re stuck here until dawn again, I’ll whine to Commander Jameson like there’s no tomorrow.’

  “I forced myself to laugh along. ‘Let’s hope for an uneventful night, then.’ The lie felt so smooth.

  “‘Yes, let’s hope for that,’ Metias said. ‘At least I have you for company.’

  “‘Likewise,’ I told him. Metias glanced back at me, his eyes hovering for a beat, then looked away again.

  “The first minutes passed without incident. But then, moments later, a ragged slum-sector boy dragged himself up to the entrance and stopped to talk to a nurse. He was a mess—mud, dirt, and blood smeared across his cheeks, dirty dark hair pulled away from his face, and a nasty limp. ‘Can I be admitted, cousin?’ he asked the nurse. ‘Is there still room tonight? I can pay.’

  “The nurse just continued scribbling on her notepad. ‘What happened?’ she finally asked.

  “‘Was in a fight,’ the boy replied. ‘I think I got stabbed.’

  “The nurse glanced over at your brother, and Metias nodded to two of his soldiers. They walked over to pat down the boy. After a while, they pocketed something and waved the boy inside. As he staggered past, I leaned closer to Metias and whispered, ‘Don’t like the look of that one. He doesn’t walk like someone who’s been stabbed, does he?’

  “Your brother and the boy exchanged a brief look. When the boy had disappeared inside the hospital, he nodded at me. ‘Agreed. Keep an eye on that one. After our rotation’s done, I’d like to question him a bit.’”

  Thomas pauses here, searching my face, perhaps for permission to stop talking, but I don’t give it.

  He takes a deep breath and continues. “I blushed then at his nearness. Your brother seemed to sense it too, and an awkward silence passed between us. I’d always known about his attraction to me, but tonight it seemed particularly naked. Maybe it had something to do with his weary day, your university antics throwing him off, his usual air of command subdued and tired. And underneath my calm exterior, my heart
hammered against my ribs. Find a way to get Captain Iparis to a private spot tonight. I don’t care how you do it. This vulnerability would be my only chance.”

  Thomas looks briefly down at his hands, but carries on.

  “So, sometime later, I tapped Metias on the shoulder. ‘Captain,’ I murmured. ‘Can I speak to you in private for a moment?’

  “Metias blinked. He asked me, ‘Is this urgent?’

  “‘No, sir,’ I told him. ‘Not quite. But . . . I’d rather you know.’

  “Your brother stared at me, momentarily confused, searching for a clue. Then he motioned for a soldier to take his place at the entrance and the two of us headed into a quiet, dark street near the back of the hospital.

  “Metias immediately dropped some of his formal pretense. ‘Something wrong, Thomas? You don’t look well.’

  “All I could think was treason against the Republic. He would never do it. Would he? We’d grown up together, trained together, grown close. . . . Then I remembered my commander’s orders. I felt the sheathed knife sitting heavily at my waist. ‘I’m fine,’ I told him.

  “But your brother laughed. ‘Come on. You’ve never needed to hide anything from me before. You know that, right?’

  “Just say it, Thomas, I told myself. I knew I was teetering between the familiar and the point of no return. Force the words out. Let him hear it. Finally, I looked up and said, ‘What is this between us?’

  “Your brother’s smile wavered. He grew very silent. Then he took a step back. ‘What do you mean?’

  “‘You know what I mean,’ I told him. ‘This. All these years.’

  “Now Metias was studying my face intently. Long seconds passed. ‘This,’ he finally replied, emphasizing the word, ‘can’t happen. You’re my subordinate.’

  “Then I asked, ‘But it means something to you, sir. Doesn’t it?’

  “Something joyful and tragic danced across Metias’s face. He drew closer. I knew that a wall between us had finally formed a crack. ‘Does it mean something to you?’ he asked me.”

  Again, Thomas pauses. Then, in a softer voice, he says, “A blade of guilt twisted painfully in my chest, but it was too late to turn back. So I took a step forward, closed my eyes, and—I kissed him.”

  Another pause. “Your brother froze, like I thought he would. There was complete stillness. We drew apart, the silence heavy around us, and for a moment I wondered whether I’d made a huge mistake, whether I’d simply misread every signal from the past few years. Or perhaps, perhaps he knew what I was up to. I felt a strange sense of relief at that thought. Maybe it’d be better if Metias figured out Commander Jameson’s plans for him. Maybe there’s a way to get out of this.

  “But then he leaned forward and returned the kiss, and the last of that wall crumbled away.”

  “Stop,” I suddenly say. Thomas falls silent. He tries to hide his emotions behind some semblance of nobility, but the shame is plain on his face. I lean back, turn my face away from him, and press my hands to my temples. Grief threatens to overwhelm me. Thomas hadn’t just killed Metias knowing that my brother loved him.

  Thomas had taken that knowledge and used it against him.

  I want you to die. I hate you. The tide of my anger grows stronger until finally I hear the whisper of Metias’s voice in my head, the faint light of reason.

  It’s going to be okay, Junebug. Listen to me. Everything is going to be okay.

  I wait, my heart beating steadily, until his gentle words bring me back. My eyes open, and I give Thomas a level stare. “What happened after that?”

  It takes Thomas a long moment before he speaks again. When he does, his voice trembles. “There was no way out. Metias had no idea what was going on. He’d fallen into the plan with blind faith. My hand crept to the knife at my waist, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t even breathe.”

  My eyes fill with tears. I want so desperately to hear every detail and at the same time for Thomas to stop talking, to shut this night away and never return again.

  “An alarm cut through the air. We jumped apart. Metias looked flushed and confused—only a second later did we both realize that the alarm came from the hospital.

  “The moment broke. Your brother snapped back into captain mode and ran toward the hospital entrance. ‘Get inside,’ he shouted over his earpiece. He didn’t look back. ‘I want half of you in there—pinpoint the source. Gather the others at the entrance and wait for my command. Now!’

  “I started running after him. My chance to strike had vanished. I wondered whether Commander Jameson had somehow been able to see my failure. The Republic’s eyes are everywhere. They know everything. I panicked. I had to find another moment, another chance to get your brother alone. If I couldn’t do it, then Metias’s fate would fall into much harsher hands.

  “By the time I caught up with him at the entrance, his face was dark with anger. ‘Break-in,’ he said. ‘It was that boy we saw. I’m sure of it. Bryant, get five and circle east. I’ll go the other way.’ Already your brother was on the move, gathering his soldiers. ‘He’s going to have to get out of the hospital somehow,’ he told us. ‘We’ll be waiting for him when he tries.’

  “I did as Metias commanded—but the instant he was out of earshot, I ordered my soldiers to head east and then snuck away into the shadows. I have to follow him. This is my last chance. If I fail, I’m as good as dead, anyway. Sweat trickled down my back. I melted into the shadows, reminding myself of all the lessons Metias had taught me about subtlety and stealth.

  “Then from somewhere in the night I heard glass shatter. I hid behind a wall as your brother raced past, alone and unguarded, toward the source of the sound. Then I followed. The night’s darkness swallowed me whole. For a moment, I lost Metias in the back alleys. Where is he? I whirled around in an alley, trying to figure out where your brother had gone.

  “Just then, a call came through. Commander Jameson barked at me. ‘You’d better find a second chance to take him down, Lieutenant. Soon.’

  “Finally, minutes later, I found Metias. He was alone, struggling up from the ground with a knife buried in his shoulder, surrounded by blood and broken glass. A few feet from him lay a sewer cap. I rushed to his side. He smiled briefly at me, while clutching the knife in his shoulder.

  “‘It was Day,’ he gasped. ‘He escaped down the sewers.’ Then he reached out to me. ‘Here. Help me up.’

  “This is your chance, I told myself. This is your only chance, and if you can’t do it now, it will never happen.”

  Thomas’s voice falters as I search for my own. I want to stop him again, but I can’t. I’m numb.

  Thomas lifts his head and says, “I wish I could tell you all the images whirling through my mind—Commander Jameson interrogating Metias, torturing information out of him, tearing off his nails, slicing him open until he screamed for mercy, killing him slowly in the way that she did to all prisoners of war.” As he speaks, the words come faster, tumbling from his mouth in a frantic jumble. “I pictured the Republic’s flag, the Republic’s seal, the oath I’d taken on the day Metias accepted me into a patrol. That I would forever remain faithful to my Republic and my Elector, until my dying day. My eyes darted to the knife buried in Metias’s shoulder. Do it. Do it now, I told myself. I seized his collar, yanked the knife from his shoulder, and plunged it deep into his chest. Right up to the hilt.”

  I hear myself gasp. As if I expected a different ending. As if once I hear it enough times, the story will change. It never does.

  “Metias let out a broken shriek,” Thomas whispers. “Or perhaps it came from me—I can’t remember anymore. He collapsed back onto the ground, his hand still clutching my wrist. His eyes were wide with shock.

  “‘I’m sorry,’ I choked out.” Thomas looks at me as he continues, his apology meant for both me and my brother. “I knelt over his trembling body. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ I told him. ‘I had no choice. You gave me no choice!’”

  I can barely
hear Thomas as he continues. “A spark of understanding appeared in your brother’s eyes. With it came hurt, something that went beyond his physical pain, a bleeding moment of realization. Then revulsion. Disappointment. ‘Now I know why,’ he whispered. I didn’t have to ask to know that he was referring to our kiss.

  “No! I meant it! I wanted to scream. It was a good-bye, the only one I could give. But I meant it. I promise.

  “Instead I said, ‘Why did you have to cross the Republic? I warned you, over and over again. Cross the Republic too many times, and eventually they’ll burn you. I warned you! I told you to listen!’

  “But your brother shook his head. It’s something you’ll never understand, his eyes seemed to say. Blood leaked from his mouth, and his grip tightened on my wrist. ‘Don’t hurt June,’ he said. ‘She doesn’t know anything.’ Then a fierce, terrified light appeared in his eyes. ‘Don’t hurt her. Promise me.’

  “So I told him, ‘I’ll protect her. I don’t know how, but I’ll try. I promise.’

  “The light gradually faded from his eyes, and his grip loosened. He stared at me until he couldn’t stare anymore, and then I knew that he was gone. Move. Get out of here, I told myself. But I stayed crouched over Metias’s body, my mind blank. His sudden absence hit me. Metias was gone, Metias was never coming back, and it was all my fault. No. Long live the Republic. That’s what really mattered, I told myself, yes, yes, that was the important thing. This—whatever this was between Metias and me—wasn’t real, could never have happened anyway. Not with Metias as my captain. Not with Metias as a criminal working against the country. It was for the best. Yes. It was.

  “Eventually I heard shouts from approaching troops. I picked myself up. I wiped my eyes. I had to carry through now. I’d done it, I’d stayed faithful to the Republic. Some survival instinct kicked in. Everything seemed muted, like a fog had settled over my life. Good. I needed the strange calm, the absence of everything, that it brought. I folded my grief carefully back into my chest, as if nothing had happened, and when the first troops arrived on the scene, I placed a call to Commander Jameson.