The iron bars in the Brig keep one's soul under the lock and key. The tiny windowless rooms, the lack of actual light, the doors without handles. An inmate can only dream of sunny days; picture wide open spaces, fresh air, and a blue sky. But this is all in their head — the sturdy prison walls aren't crumbling any century soon.
The cell takes yer mother, yer land; it takes yer freedom. Rotten people such as the Puncher deserve it. But not my father. Never Pa.
Something snaps in me when I imagine his ashen face behind those bars, envision him coughing and trembling on a stone bench.
I did my part of the bargain. What do I care about Grand Duke's plans and machinations? Of his attack on the Imperial City? I just need my family intact, and now I'm determined to take the Lighthaven leader at his word.
Get Pa out of there.
I stride towards the dungeons, rushing past the gaping constables. Waving a Duke's pardon, I hit the shiny brass button that leads to the cells. The doors slide open and I hobble further downwards.
My neck hurts like hell. I don't know how much damage that squeeze of Puncher's did, but it sure wrecked something deep and irreparable within me.
Never mind. I won. We are stinking rich now. I can jus' pay the best apothecary in Lighthaven to fix me right up.
Yes.
I've won. I've done it! I thought I never stood a ghost of a chance against the Demolisher when I entered that darned Pit for what I'd thought would be my last time.
A jump onna social class ladder. To fame. To wealth. To my own mansion in Lighthaven and my own aero craft.
So what if I had to renounce the name of Volta? 'Tis how things werk. Ye play by the rules of big guns, ye get yer favor. It's called bein' smart. And I'm nothing but.
My Pa and Mar will be safe and live in the mansion, right there with me. No more fear of hunger. Of disease. Of coughin' blood.
Home! Soon we'll have a hard earned new home.
I still hear the constables yelling at me, but I pay them no mind. Oh, what does it matter? What can they do to me, even? Imma Gaslight Trials winner.
I keep flying down the hallway and towards Pa, until I find his cell, and fling myself onto the bars. Then I sob, shedding the bottled up feelings, ranging from desperation to relief.
"Is it over? Did ye show 'em, my sweet pea? Hush now, don't you cry." He whispers, and comes closer to hold my hands in his.
"I sure did," I say. "Mastered their game, jus' like ye taught me."
"You won?" A question lingers on his lips.
"I did. I won for you, Pa. Won for both of us, ye hear me?"
"Huzzah!" He does a hop, but then clutches at his chest.
"Pa?" I stare at him in alarm.
"I am fine, sweet pea, just excited. You know, after they banished me to Fumedge, I thought my time has passed. My best friend, the Grand Duke, was living his happily ever after, winning accolades, getting rich. His life was going swimmingly. Mine was in shambles." He sits back on the stone bench and smiles at me.
"The Grand Duke didn't have it all either — the Grand Duchess had died during childbirth." I clench the official paper in my fist and turn towards the nearest constable.
"This is the Duke's pardon for Otto Igglesden. Open the cell, this instant."
The man narrows his eyes, scrutinizing the curvy penmanship and a vermillion sun-shaped seal. He unlocks Pa's door with a stiff nod.
"I learnt about it only later. Meanwhile, I was a pathetic wretch. My career was gone. I felt I was doomed to a lifetime of misery. Until I met your Ma. She was a shining light in the darkness. She made me want to create. Life had meaning again. And she inspired me to do exceptional work, to make hundreds of lil' rascals happy, as a toy maker."
"Ye were a darn good toy maker, too. Ye are. Come on Pa. Ye're gonna make so many more toys."
Pa stands up from the bench, but then sways as if unsure which way to go, clutching at his chest. A flurry of coughs shakes his body as it moves back and forth, and then slams down on the stone floor. Blood is trickling out of his mouth in small rivulets.
Three constables push me aside and barge into his cell.
There mus' be a mistake. This can't be happening.
Hadn't I done everything in my power to bring Pa to the safety of Lighthaven? I defeated the Bomb Queen. My own best friend. I almost died facing the Demolisher.
I did it all for 'im.
The life in Lighthaven was... is going to be his ultimate prize. The bestest of the apothecaries are gonna treat him.
"Pa!" The strangled cry comes out of my throat, and my muscles move again. "Pa!" I repeat, shoving through the crowd of law peeps, and kneel at his side.
"You know, Veda. What makes you different, makes you strong. And you are nothing like anyone I'd ever met. Not like anyone in Fumedge, or Lighthaven. Your mind has grown and spread beyond these two ponds. Do take care of Vogel. Let me tell you a secret. He is neither fully a bird, nor an automaton. Found him in the mouth of our Cat, so many years ago. A gruesome sight. Over half of him was missing, did you know that? But I healed him, and patched him up, encased him in the automaton armor."
Vogel is a cyborg?
But I can't think of this, not when my Pa's life is slipping away right before me eyes. "Shush, Pa. Ye can look after Vogel yerself. We'll do it together."
"I fear my play has come to an end, but you... You are the master of the game. And it is time for you... To spread your wings."
My throat is tight with tears, hoarse with fatigue.
All I can do is shake my head as Pa continues, "You will have a nice home, a pleasant life. And then, who knows? You will be off into a new adventure."
He puts a forefinger on his heart, jus like he did when he was saying goodbye to me at the train station.
I return the gesture and hate it. I don't want this to be our goodbye. "It will be our home, Pa. Ye gotta try this lung machine I made for ye. See a fancy bath with many of dem nice-smelling soaps."
"Imagine the food you will eat now, sweetpea. Ah, I can see it before my eyes. That crispy chicken in a delicious creamy cheese sauce. The chocolate pudding. Fresh warm loaves of bread loaded with butter."
"None of 'em can hold the candle to yer Hasselback taters, Pa."
"You know what..." Pa struggles to speak as his eyes get that defocused, glassy haze. "Veda. You already make those potatoes better than I do."
His grip on my hand loosens, and just like that, he's gone forever.
"Dad. Dad!" I tap his cheeks. "Help. Someone please help us! Help, please! No! You can't go!"
Someone is screaming hysterically.
That someone is me.
A prison apothecary pushes past, and touches Pa's pulse. "I am sorry, Milady. There is nothing to be done about it. His breathing sickness had progressed to an advanced stage and... This would have happened anyway."
"What a terrible affair. My deepest condolences regarding..." a treacly sweet voice of Grand Duke pronounces. He must have followed me down here.
"No! Stay away! Ye don't get to say 'em. Ye are at fault for his passing."
Now that Pa's gone, the Grand Duke has no hold on me. Nothing to blackmail me with anymo'.
"I assure you, I do not know what you speak of. This is such a sad predicament."
I spin around and growl at the Duke, foaming at the mouth. "Don't. Call me. Madam Igglesden. I am Veda, dammit! It's your fault! If ye had not arrested him, thrown him to rot in that cold underground prison... if he had proper care, proper food, walks in the Solarium... He wouldn't have gotten worse so fast."
While I was mastering their game, learning to play it better than the Duke, so that I could beat him... Pa was losing the game of sickness and health.
I won a useless battle — a battle for my life in Lighthaven and lost the most important one — a battle for Pa's life.
The beautiful buildings, clothing, landscapes, sunlight that I will now have in abundance... They are just a setting. An empty setting, which means nothing without a genuine human connection.
"The man was clearly sick. I am not at fault for what has transpired here. You are agitated, beyond any doubt, Madam Igglesden. Please escort the lady to her quarters," the Grand Duke addresses one of the constables. "It is for the best."
I move closer to Pa, pulling his head onto my lap. I gently brush the white, thin hair behind his ears, refusing to leave. Refusing to believe what happened.
"Bloody Lewis, let me past!" Langdon's shouts join the hubbub.
"No! No!" I don't want him to pull me away from Pa.
I slam my palms into the lad's chest. I thrash in his arms, kicking and biting him, as I watch the light of life abandon the clever, kind, and gentle man who brought me up.
A ball of nothingness on the cold ground, I hold onto the Pa's body, my eyes closed. Just like I used to sooth meself to sleep in the Orphanage. Lying in a fetal position, clutching my fists and rocking back and forth. The calming self-hug did a lot, as I whispered. "Tomorrow, tomorrow will be better. And who knows? Happiness is mayhap only a day away."
But now those words bring no comfort.
Tomorrow will never, never be better. Because there will be no Pa in tomorrow. Never again. That wasn't the tomorrow I wanted to be in, either.
Let me die here, right alongside him.
I am still lying on my side, my tears sliding down my cheeks, when I feel someone's firm hands reach out and touch me. I vaguely recognize the clean and fresh scent with a smokey masculine undertone.
L again.
This time, I don't resist him.
Langdon picks me up from the floor, and gently sets me down in his warm arms.
He offers no words of comfort.
How could he? What could one say to another after such a devastating, being-shattering loss?
No matter how many days, weeks, or years I spend hunting down the pieces of my heart gluing them with the passage of time... It will never ever be whole again.
Langdon's silent hug is firm and warm and promising. A hug like no other I have ever experienced in my life. He holds me and holds me and holds me. Eons must have passed, but he doesn't go. I cling to his warmth; I don't want him to let go, ever.
I wish this moment to be as long as the longest day.
Hiding my head in Langdon's shirt, I just breathe him in, breathe in the calmness that he represents as we stand in the eye of the storm. I listen to his steady heartbeat as his fingers roam through my hair, caressing it in a soothing rhythm, disentangling its disobedient knots.
I let myself feel his body against mine, lean and hard-muscled.
"The poor girl has been through so much," the snake-tongue of the Duke whispers into Langdon's ear. "I fear this devastating occurrence has worn her nerves thin. I suggest for the apothecaries to take her to the Lighthaven Asylum ad infinitum, to be subjected to the most beneficial cold baths. The treatment allegedly reduces agitation, particularly for those experiencing... Manic episodes."
This awful, horrible man. I did everythin' he asked of me!
I fulfilled my part of the deal. But the Grand Duke will not. He means to lock me up behind bars: inna nuthouse, no less. The dark place where I can never look into the sun's fiery face again.
"They shall do no such thing. No more secrets, Father. No more lies. Your treachery has been revealed. Everyone..." L clears his throat. "I have here with me, a voice recorder bearing the audio-confession of one Sophie Takeuchi, as well as a handwritten letter signed by my mother, the Grand Duchess Wilhelmina Sextus."
"Langdon..." Lucius Sextus' voice is wary. "What are you going to do? Do not be foolish, my boy."
"What I should have done long ago. These documents prove that nineteen years ago, my father, Grand Duke Lucius Sextus, and his accomplice, Baron Secundus, orchestrated a murderous aero ship accident. The vessel explosion took the lives of the ones Albert and Mileva Volta, parents to here present Veda Volta that stands before you."
"You... traitor." The Duke leans his forehead against the cold wall tiles, taking deep breaths.
"Veda Igglesden, the winner of the Gaslight Trials, is the last remaining member of the house Volta. And this birth certificate I have here with me, taken by the aforementioned Sophie Takeuchi from the Fumedge Orphanage, proves it. Guards..." He points at Lucius Sextus, his chest heaving. "Arrest this man."
Constables and the Grand Duke shuffle in one indistinguishable blur of uniforms and yells. My eyelids are slowly closing as Langdon carries me in his arms.
I take one last glance at Pa. He could be asleep on that cold ground. A smile on his face is proof of the happiness he feels for my bright future.
I must have drifted away from my consciousness because moments or hours pass after I recognize my bedchamber. I crawl in between the sheets like a five-year-old and let L tuck me in. He starts at the door and I whisper.
"Did they get 'im?"
"They did, Veda. Sophie's recording and my mother's written confession were enough to apprehend my father and throw him in a Brig until such a time when his trial is scheduled. You are safe now. I promise."
"Stay. Please, L. Stay until I fall asleep."
"I will," he says. "And... Veda: my father will pay for everything he did. I give you my word."