The White Shadow

24. All Your Friends are Dead

Another life to take care of. Around Reina, he never thought of the troubles. They seemed just so distant. But now Firmin was panicking. Stuffing another of Aethelu's leaves in his mouth that was supposed to calm the nerves.

He'd tried drinking a glass of wine, but his hands were always trembling these days, so he'd sloshed more than half over the side before the rim ever made contact with his mouth. Anyways, the last time he had succeeded he had ended up in total confusion. He needed to stop. Aethelu had never cared before what he did with her potions, but now she had stopped supplying him with Frijy leaves that he could smoke. Well, it wasn't that she refused to give them, she'd just stopped visiting him, but he wasn't going to go out of his way to ask her either.

Sighing, he leaned on the desk. He'd started telling Reina which houses to visit and which people to drain as lately, there were more guards with black powder attending the weekly executions. And to that, he was running out of criminals guilty enough to die.

He was hardly able to keep Reina alive, barely surviving himself. How would he ever manage another life? A baby?

The dead children's faces flashed in his mind, the ones Reina had drained. His stomach rolled over. How could he be a father?

And now Tris was so concerned about him. It didn't help to have others worry when he could hardly contain his own troubles. It really didn't.

He needed to stop. "Get yourself together, Firmin." Or he'd never make it through without seeing Reina. And Reina would not make it through without him.

---------------------

Tris was in charge of the guards from Firmin's house now. It was a part of the 'advantages' Carson was talking about. So when one came to him, reporting that Firmin had gone to a meeting, Tris immediately left for his house.

He could not be seen. He'd told Firmin he was going to be training this morning.

Up the stairs, through the door, and into his bedchambers.

"Come on, Firmin. Where do you keep the stuff?"

Tris wasn't quite sure what he was looking for. The documents Firmin always hid whenever someone entered? Those could be a good place to start.

Though Tris hadn't really come for this, when he saw Firmin's worn leatherbound book—where he knew the man wrote down all the things he refused to talk about—he suddenly felt he'd come to all the answers he'd need.

But no. He could not read his friend's feelings, his personal thoughts. Firmin would kill him! And all Tris wanted to do was help him.

Writing down experiences and feelings in journals wasn't something Tris really ever thought about, but seeing that Firmin did it, he now wanted to try it himself. One of the many things Firmin just seemed to think of himself and Tris would try because of him. He envied Firmin in so many ways. He always had. Always was asking for guidance and seeking his approval. Perhaps now he could do something for him in return.

This is for him. Yes, this was for him. Tris would have to go to all the lengths to save his friend. He reminded himself that doing right had sacrifices, hardships to endure. Firmin would forgive him once he realized Tris had done this for him.

He took a deep breath and grasped the scroll on Firmin's desk. Fairly certain that it was his personal writings.

He opened it and read:

A farmer and his son. They smuggled in stolen goods five years ago and have been using the money to bribe guards, servants, and even lesser nobles. It is treason, but I only have words and rumors. No documents. Regardless, tonight, the white shadow shall be appeased.