The Regenerates (32 page)

She took long, deep breaths and sat at the edge of the empty bunk. “You have no idea what it’s like, hearing your parents lie to you and tell you there’s nothing wrong when your neighbors and friends begin to disappear. You don’t get what it’s like to have to struggle to find meals, to watch your dad put on a brave face while his work is rejected and he has to explain we’ll be going hungry another night. My mother is out there, alone and in the cold. I have to constantly pray for a miracle, pray that she’s alive and I’ll see her again. Do you even care?”

Ven walked over to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I can’t fix it.” Kayn’s voice was weaker and quieter than Ven had ever heard. “I can’t bring your father back, or magically locate your mother. I can’t simply ignore what my entire life has been about. I can’t do anything now except…apologize. What you do with that is your business. I’m done listening to people hate me.”

Coralie looked at him and began to shake. She appeared as if she was struggling to say something more, but then quickly turned away from him and took Ven’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Ven looked at the defeated expression on Kayn’s face. Ven was fed up, too. Hating Kayn was exhausting and draining. Coralie would need time, and Ven would respect however she felt. But what if he and Kayn
did
become friends? Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible…

“You go on,” he said to Coralie. “I’m coming.”

Coralie sniffed and did as he said, closing the dividing curtain behind her.

Ven turned to Kayn. There was a resolve forming in his gut. Kayn had no one. No friends, and no family that Ven knew of. He was not the enemy anymore. “I don’t hate you. And…I’m sorry about your coronation. I know you might not like me very much, but if there’s anything I can do to help you, let me know and I’ll do what I can.”

Kayn stared at him for a moment, then for the first time, smiled. It was a genuine smile, and there was no contempt. “Don’t get cocky. I’m still better than you at everything.”

Ven might have been imagining it, but he could see peacefulness in Kayn’s expression. He grinned back. “We’ll see about that.”

Ven left the room and found Coralie at the farthest end of the cruiser. He buckled himself in.

“Are you alright?” Ven frowned in concern.

Coralie sniffed, then looked at him and smiled, wiping her tears with her sleeve. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good. That’s a relief.”

She reached out as if to take his hand, but hesitated. “I’m…I’m sorry for just ending it with us like that on our way to Roth’s tomb. I was the one who started all of this in the first place, and to call it off was such an awful and stupid thing to do. I really do love you, you know.”

Ven laughed. “I’m not gonna lie, it was pretty terrible of you. But…since we’re not separating after all, do you think we could still make it work?”

“Technically, yes, but since we called it quits after barely any time at all, it feels a bit embarrassing…”

“You’re the one who feels embarrassed,” said Ven. “Not me. But it’s up to you.”

“How about we give it a bit of time, first?” she said. Her voice quivered, as though she was afraid of his reaction.

Ven expected to feel upset by this news. Somehow, he didn’t. They weren’t going their separate ways. What was the hurry? And she had just said she loved him. That was more than enough for now.

“Alright,” he said. “I can work with that.”

Coralie grinned. “Well,” she said, adjusting her safety belt. “I clearly haven’t been thinking before I speak. Now I’ve gone and made us both delinquents.”

“You were always a delinquent,” said Ven. “Don’t deny it.”

“Fair enough, but you? I consider this an achievement, making you cause trouble,” she teased. “You’re about as wimpy as they come.”

“You might want to think again, Coralie,” Ven laughed, as Cor’s bronze gates disappeared from view.

T
he twigs littering the earth snapped as the man trailed through his forest. There were no animals here. No birds or insects or dangerous beasts. These were
his
woods, and his alone.

He had killed someone a short while ago. It was a boy who had destroyed his most prized servant using a weapon he had created. That boy deserved it. It was a good death, he felt.

He could sense, though, that something was wrong. Kayn Stafford had escaped him. It was those fools, the ones who thought they could match him in strength simply by containing meager amounts of Haze. Nonetheless, the man felt it would be unwise to underestimate them. They might be weak individually, but in numbers, they could become a threat. Something needed to be done about them.

There was something else bothering the man as he passed through the fog to his destination. It was the dagger. It had turned against him. He was the one who had forged it and who had given it to that idiot, Roth, in the first place and now it was useless. He would have to find another means of containing his hatred. Perhaps in a human this time, he thought. Yes, that might work. Kayn Stafford had eluded him once, but he would not fare so well the second time.
Perhaps I will use him in place of the dagger
, he imagined gleefully.

The man smiled. It didn’t matter that Markis’ men were trying to interfere. Cor was a ticking time bomb. Very soon, there would be pandemonium and bloodshed such as they had never experienced before.

The man had finally arrived at his destination. Before him was a large, domed structure. He was proud of its construction. He opened the white doors and stepped inside. This was his favorite place. He breathed deeply. Lining the wall were thousands of small lights. They were his prized possessions, the souls of all those killed on Abolition Day. He almost pitied them. But they were his to use now. His attention was on something in the center of the room. He didn’t need to constantly check on it. It was safe, here. But it was reassuring to him, so he made frequent visits to this place.

It was a golden casket, sealed with an ancient Coran symbol. He laughed. Corans thought that it was
their
symbol that had kept the Magistrate’s Dagger sealed in the throne. But it was his. He was the one who had given it to Roth. That fool was nothing without him. Cor would be nothing without him. But he was going to make them pay for what they did. He would make every one of them bleed as he had bled, till their souls screamed for death.

He ran his finger over the casket. It clicked and opened. It had been difficult stealing it from the Keepers’ Realm, and he had only managed to steal part of it. But a part was more than enough.

It was an ancient weapon, one so sacred and powerful it had injured him greatly to retrieve it. It was brass, as hard as diamond. It could cut anything in this world but could not be cut itself. Its end was rounded, multiple engravings etched into its side. It was rather short, for this piece was one of four that together, formed an object that had the ability to destroy the Keepers’ Realm. Just two of them were powerful enough to break the barrier between this world and the human world.

He held it tightly for a moment before returning it to its container and sealing the casket. He was impatient. He wanted nothing more than to turn this weapon onto the wretched city at this very moment. But it would be pointless to do so now. He needed full certainty and the most opportune moment. If he just had one more piece in his possession, he could begin the second stage.

The man named Novus stepped out of the domed structure and back into the fog. His feet suddenly hit something hard. He looked down. It was a book. When he lifted it and dusted the dirt off its cover, he gasped. What was something like this doing here? It was a book about Coran legends, folktales and mythological stories. He knew of this book. Overcome with disgust, he crushed it in his hands until it was reduced to black powder and scattered the debris onto the forest floor.

A considerable distance away, a small boy began to feel an overwhelming sadness he could not explain. To his surprise, silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he sat, nestled safely on the floor of the dark, musty library.

A special thanks to all my awesome beta readers Becca Piercey, Tiffanie Marks, Julia Robinson, Amy Elizabeth, Kimberly Bonner, Cassie Holcombe and Kathy Itskova for your support and for helping to bring out the best in my story. To my editors Alissa McGowan, Carol Davis and Sally Bradley. Your patience and encouragement has kept me motivated.

To Christine Asis, Brandie Boyer and Taylor Sadler for listening to my rants and for being the coolest friends in the world. To Rita Fei, both for being an awesome friend and for your incredible talent as an illustrator.

Lots of hugs to my parents for supporting whatever I do, and to my brother, who has been reading my half-finished stories since I was thirteen.