Harvest: Faction 1: (The Isa Fae Collection) Page 12

  A fuzzy feeling swarmed my head, and I lost my balance. Westman caught my arm with the woman’s hand stabilizing me.

  “You’re not saying—”

  “Lara,” he said, his grip firm where he steadied me at my elbow. “I chose you because you, dear child, are my daughter.”

  Chapter 22

  I stammered, widening my eyes and trying to keep my mouth from falling open. Was Westman serious? If so, how was that even possible? My parents had died. My father had been a well worker, pulling water from under the frigid grounds of the faction for little-to-no money.

  I didn’t have much in the way of memories of him, but he certainly wasn’t Westman. He couldn’t have been. The way I’d heard the story, Westman was long gone ages before I was even born.

  This didn’t add up. I gathered my wits and willed myself to relax. To push away the feeling of shock—because it wasn’t true. He was obviously lying.

  Soon, the unwarranted shock was replaced with anger, and I pushed the woman away from me. Pushed Westman away from me.

  “You son of a bitch!” I shouted. “How dare you? Did you think you could appeal to some sense of familial longing in me and I’d just fold like a cheap chair?” I shook my head. “You obviously don’t know anything about me.”

  Westman moved forward again, though this time, I didn’t back away. I was too upset, too infuriated. If he thought he was going to manipulate me, then this sadist had another thing coming.

  I narrowed my eyes. “How stupid do you think I am?”

  “Not stupid so much as uninformed,” Westman responded. “It’s not your fault. The people who raised you had no interest in teaching. They run a baby factory out there, pumping out docile and non-threatening citizens who want nothing more than whatever the faction wishes from them. The fact that you yearned for more should be proof enough of your connection to me.”

  “You were gone!” I said, splaying my hands out as though the information should be obvious because, well, it should. “You were long gone before I was conceived, not to mention that I knew my father. Or did you mess that up? Did you think I was one of those orphans who never knew their parents or what it was liked to be loved?” I shook my head again, tears burning behind my eyes. “You’re wrong, Westman. I’m not some love-starved little girl you can manipulate, and I’m certainly not the type to overlook obvious facts.”

  “What about the facts that aren’t so obvious, Lara? What about the ones hidden so well that not even the Elders were aware of them? What if the people they were happening to weren’t made aware?”

  “Do you ever make sense?” I growled, heat radiating from my ears. “Or are you satisfied to be as crazy as the Elders think you are?”

  “I have people on the outside, my darling,” Westman answered. His familiarity in addressing me made me sick. “People who not only give me information as to what’s going on, but also channel energy from me to the faction beyond this place. Some of that energy is of a more intense nature, of a more intimate nature. The man you knew as your father was one of those people. He channeled my energy, Lara. Channeled it right into your mother the night you were made.” Westman shook the woman’s head. “You’re mine, Lara. It’s in the eyes.”

  In that moment, something inside of me snapped. Not only was this man asking me to believe I shared blood with him, but he was also desecrating the memory of my father, of a person who had come to stand for goodness in my life. If this was true, it meant my father was a traitor. It meant he raped my mother, slept with her under false pretenses. It meant my entire life, aside from being insanely hard, was also a lie.

  How dare Westman twist things so disgustingly?

  I wasn’t sure where it came from, because I couldn’t remember actively wishing to access the atern in my band, but before I could register what I was doing, energy poured out of me in a torrent of red fire and orange flame.

  Westman moved the woman’s arms, creating a huge shield to block my wrath. But I didn’t care. This wasn’t about freeing myself or even taking these Ramblers out. This was about rage, pure and simple. This was about anger and my reaction to it.

  As such, I kept going, an open faucet pouring out energy as quickly and furiously as I could.

  Westman stumbled backward in the woman’s body. Her arms were still up, but I could see they were faltering. Was it possible I was wearing him out?

  “Fine,” he said, rolling his bright eyes in the woman’s head. “You want to do this the hard way. I can certainly oblige.” He looked over at the male Rambler. “Bring her to me. By whatever means necessary—but alive. And please, give this woman a proper burial. She was a good follower, and her sacrifice should be noted.”

  The woman’s face went down and, when it raised, her red eyes had returned. They widened as they caught sight of what was going on, of the rush of energy about to overtake her. She tried to keep the shield up, but it was no use. The shield broke like the shell of an egg, shattering and allowing my energy to overtake her, burning her alive.

  She screamed and fell as my energy washed over her. Her body went still, and I looked over at the man. He’d taken flight in the time it had taken for my energy to do its business and was looking down at me with a cocky expression on his face.

  “If you go now, I won’t hurt you,” I said unsteadily. The truth was, while I was angrier than I had ever been, the sight of this woman’s body had me shaken. I wasn’t interested in adding to the body count if I could get around it.

  “If I go now, you won’t have to hurt me,” the man answered. “Westman would skin me alive before I even left your presence. You’re coming with me. I’m afraid you don’t have any other choice.”

  “Then I guess we’re playing rough,” I said, energy still pooling at my hands and arms.

  “I guess so,” he said, his face still home to the cockiest of smirks. “You and me, then. Let’s do this.”

  Suddenly, his body went rigid. I blanched, thinking I had inadvertently accessed my atern again.

  “Not quite,” a familiar voice sounded from behind me.

  Turning, I saw him. Karr was standing there, blood splattered and weak. His face was swollen and bludgeoned and his body wavered as he stood, his hand outstretched. But it was him. He was there.

  “That is,” Karr continued, “if Lara doesn’t mind me taking this one.”

  “Not at all,” I said, my heart leaping at the sight of him.

  Nodding firmly, he threw his hand downward. The male Rambler followed suit, slamming hard against the ground. It knocked him out instantly, and I blinked as I saw him lying still on the ground.

  “He’ll survive,” Karr said weakly. “Which is more than he deserves.”

  I turned to Karr. For the first time, I noticed just how weak he looked. He was barely standing, his face pale and burned in places.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, running toward him.

  “I told you to run,” he said. “I told you not to stay… not to stay h—”

  His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell flat back against the ground.

  “Karr!” I screamed, crumbling down above him on my knees. “Karr, wake up!”

  But when I placed my hand under his nose, I realized he was no longer breathing.

  Chapter 23

  My heart fell and shattered into a million pieces as I looked at the boy on the ground. Even though things were difficult between us, even though I’d swore I would never care for him ever again, I knew now more than ever that he was my everything.

  In this moment, with the boy I’d grown up with sprawled in front of me and still gushing blood, all my walls came tumbling down. All the slights, big and small, didn’t matter in that moment. Even Arbor, who had been my rock my entire life, faded into the background of my mind.

  All I could do was look at him, lose myself in the swell of feelings that came with that action, and hope he would start moving.

  He didn’t, though. So, instead of falling apart, I did som
ething I’d learned when I was a young thing. Since orphans were schooled in the art of all sorts of service, including health services, I placed my hands atop each other and pushed them onto his chest, compressing the way I had been taught to if I was to ever see a person of higher position collapse on the street.

  It had never come up. Healthcare, for those who could afford it, was good in the faction. Although the idea that any of us would come in handy in terms of saving lives was a little far-fetched, it was tradition, a legacy that stretched back to the days when life was a harder and shorter experience. Still, I hadn’t ever done this sort of thing in real time. So, as I pressed in rhythmic succession, I wondered if I was even doing it right.

  It couldn’t have been too good, because it wasn’t exactly productive. I pressed harder and harder, faster and faster. Nothing worked. All my movements, all my thoughts, even the tears that spilled down my face didn’t seem to help. Karr lay still, save for the force of my compressions. He still wasn’t breathing, still wasn’t moving. His eyes were closed, as they always would be if I couldn’t save him.

  It was strange, the way things worked out. I had spent so much time wishing Karr would just die, and now that it seemed he had, I couldn’t bear the idea.

  “Come on!” I said, not stopping in my compression. “Wake up, you idiot!”

  But he was gone or going, and I wouldn’t be able to change that. At least not through traditional means.

  A thought came crashing into my mind, fueled by desperation and despair. I was a witch, a member of the faction, and I had at least a little atern left after the flood of energy I’d just unleashed onto the Ramblers.

  What was more, I’d learned a thing or two about mystical healing from my days of cleaning up behind more noble teachers and students.

  Breathing heavy, I wiped tears off my cheeks and muttered a prayer—not to some higher power, but to Karr himself.

  “Don’t you dare leave me yet,” I said, sniffling hard. “I have too much left to say. We’ve got too much left to do.”

  Then, closing my eyes, I spread my hands apart, leaving them on his chest. My palms started to burn as I mumbled ancient words I was never meant to hear. Power ran through me, tapping into my atern and sending it directly into Karr’s body. I said the words over and over again in rapid succession. Each time, I became more and more desperate, more and more frantic.

  If Karr didn’t wake up, then I was on my own… forever. If I had any chance of getting out of here, or of saving the people in the faction, it was with Karr at my side. Without him, I was lost. He had to wake up. He just had to… for all our sakes.

  But he didn’t. Regardless of how much I cast or how much I wanted it, he didn’t move.

  I kept speaking, kept casting until nearly all the atern in my band had been channeled into him, leaving me with nothing but a thread. Even if he survived this, at this point, I might not.

  It was supposed to happen. The magic was supposed to heal what had broken inside of him. I’d watched it in the school. I’d watched those posh witches do it with ease.

  I couldn’t replicate their results, though. Perhaps the people in the faction were right to consider me as a lesser person. I’d obviously done something wrong, and making that mistake would doom not only Karr and myself, but the faction as a whole.

  Pulling my hands away, I stared at him, still pale, still cold, still dead.

  I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing freely now. They cascaded down onto him like a storm cloud finally unleashing needed rain.

  I had heard stories before, fairy tales of princesses and their knights. They always got hurt, too. They always danced around death before true love allowed them to return to each other. Sometimes, it was a prayer; sometimes, it was tears, just like mine; and sometimes, it was a kiss

  What did I have to lose? I had tried the other two. I might as well give all three of them a go.

  Leaning down, I gently pressed my lips against Karr’s. The grown part of me, the part that knew the faction wasn’t a fair place and that life had never treated me with anything close to kindness, hadn’t seriously entertained the idea of a kiss doing the trick. Still, there was a piece of Arbor inside of me, a piece of the girl who believed people were good and endings had to be happy.

  “If it’s not happy, then you’re not yet at the end,” she’d always tell me with a smile on her face.

  She was wrong. This was the end. As I pulled myself away from a still-cold Karr, I realized it wasn’t going to be happy.

  His wounds were too severe. His body couldn’t take it. I slunk down, laying my head against his tragically still chest. A million thoughts rushed through my mind now, all of them tainted with enough despair to kill me where I lay.

  It wouldn’t, though. Despair had been my companion for most of my life. I knew better than to think it would turn on me now.

  Chapter 24

  I found myself looking at other things: the bright dots illuminating the otherwise dark night sky. They were so beautiful, so delicate and artful to the eye. Was this what the faction lived with before Westman stole it from them? If so, no wonder they hated him so much.

  “It’s really beautiful,” I whispered to Karr, though I knew he wouldn’t hear. “I wish you could see it.”

  A weak and wonderful voice crocked from beside me. “I’ve seen it before.”

  Jerking upright, I looked down at him. His face was regaining color, and his cracked lips spread into heart-melting smile.

  “I’ve seen things that are much more beautiful than that,” he said, swallowing.

  My heart leapt in my chest, wanting nothing more than to break free from its flesh cage and join with Karr’s.

  “Did you kiss me?” he asked, looking up at me.

  “You’re an idiot,” I said, smiling and leaning back into him. I kissed him hard on the mouth, brushing sweaty hair off his forehead. “And yes,” I said, pulling away from him. “I definitely kissed you.”

  And I wanted to kiss him again and again. Cover his face with small kisses. His forehead, his chin, his nose, cheeks, lips. A thousand tiny kisses to act as a shield against anything else that might come his way.

  He frowned, indicating my atern bracelet with his finger. “Looks like you should have tried kissing me first.”

  I covered the bracelet with my hand, as if somehow blocking it now would make him un-see my dangerously low levels. He didn’t need to be worrying at a time like this.

  “Here,” he said, gently removing my hand and placing his hand next to mine. “You can take some of mine. We’ll get more when we hit the camp.”

  “More?” I could feel my brow furrowing. “How?”

  Karr’s expression darkened, his eyes dropping as his atern poured into my wrist, bringing myself up to a somewhat survivable level and bringing him down to the same. “Come on. We should go.”

  He rose to his feet and started off, just moving in the same direction before as if that’d worked out for us just fine before.”

  “Karr,” I said, a steely edge in my voice. “What’s going on? I deserve an answer.”

  He turned back to me, pressed his lips together. He looked angry. Not at me, per se. But angry just the same.

  “How will there be more atern at this camp? It’s a finite source.”

  “It is,” he said, swallowing. “And the same way some people get back home. You know…”

  Realization hit me with enough weight to make my legs weaken. “From the fallen?”

  “Not everyone survives out here, Lara.”

  He didn’t need to say anything else. This was it. We were heading back to his camp, where some of his friends who were alive the last time he’d seen them might be dead. And then… then I was going to take some of their atern.

  I must have blanched, because Karr added, “Everyone does it. What else are they supposed to do?”

  There was that unspoken sentence there that was always present when someone was taking atern from the dead: It’s
not like they can use it.

  There was no nice way to put it.

  “Okay,” I said. I nodded. I tried to wrap my head around the idea that I was about to restart a journey I might not survive in order to meet people who hadn’t survived and take their atern. My stomach pinched. “What about that guy back there?”

  “Him?” Karr tipped his head toward the guy he’d incapacitated earlier. “He’s not gonna stay out for long. So we should go.”

  “I meant his atern,” I said.

  Karr’s eyebrows arched. “Now you’re thinking like one of us.”

  I guessed one of us meant him and his comrades from the encampment, but I remembered a time when one of us meant him, Arbor, and myself.

  My heart panged, and I swallowed around the lump in my throat. By the way he expression fell, I think he realized his mistake, but he didn’t say anything. After all, what could he say that wouldn’t just draw more attention to that pain?

  “I’ll be right back,” I promised, then I jogged over to the unconscious man. I nudged him with the toe of my shoe, and he didn’t wake, so I bent down and touched my bracelet to his.

  I wouldn’t take enough to kill him. Just enough to let him see what it was like to live on a thread. When my own band was full, I headed back over to Karr and shared with him, too.

  “This should do the trick,” I said, trying match my forced smile with a happy tone.

  “It should. Just try not to give it all away this time.” Karr winked.

  “Try not to die, and I think I can manage that.”

  We stood awkwardly for a moment, then Karr scratched the back of his head and rocked back on his heels. “Well, we need to eat,” Karr said, starting up his trek again. “Keep an eye out on the way.”

  And just like that, off we went. This time, though, I knew of an added pressure that Karr had hidden so well before. And that was just how unsafe this place was. How, at any moment, I could be facing Westman or his minions, fighting for my life and the life of those I loved.