When Lucy was about three years old, she got sick.
Really sick.
I missed two weeks of school to help Mom take care of her, just waiting for her to stop fevering. I was 11, but I remember that I was old enough to know we had to take Lucy to the hospital. She couldn't keep anything down, and she cried herself asleep and cried herself awake and cried, cried, cried. We couldn't take her to the hospital, of course; so I prayed. This was back when I believed that there must be a moon goddess.
"I promise," I had told Lucy, feverish and sobbing, in the middle of the night, "I promise that I will take care of you. I promise you won't die."
And, even then, it felt like I was lying. Like I was breaking the promise. But, even then, I was very used to it.
-
The tears started again.
I clutch a blanket around my shoulders, trying to stop the shivering that racks my frame. It flows behind me as I race down the stairs, flanked by the guards. The tears make it hard to see, and I can't make them stop.
I try not to feel like a widow.
Goddess, I'm so cold. I wish that I were still in bed, stealing Lucy's warmth. I wish that it were just another nightmare.
Lucy was so exhausted by the past three days that she didn't even stir when I flung myself out of bed. I'm grateful for this. She's never seen me cry like this, before.
"My brother," I tell one of the guards rushing down the hall with me, "Jonah. I need him, please."
"He's already on the way down to the front drive," he replies seamlessly. I nod and wipe the new tears from my cheeks. More fall.
Silently, we continue down the stairs. My legs ache and burn, but I hardly feel it. It's all just numb.
I'm surprised to see two figures in the driveway instead of one.
"Mom?" I say, unsure.
I was surprised when she even came with us. Ever since Dad escaped, she's been improving, piece by piece, becoming a bit more sure of herself, but she refused to go to the Introduction and she's basically been keeping herself under quarantine. I had even been worried, at first, to bring her along, because I really don't think Lucy could handle it well if she saw Mom have a mental breakdown.
When we get close enough, Mom wordlessly wraps her arms around me. I'm startled into silence. The tears pool at her neck, where her mark used to be.
I feel so - small. So young and alone. Alone.
"Mom. I need," I cry into her shoulder, "I need you two to stay with Lucy. I need you to be there for her."
"Of course," Mom says softly. "Of course. I'll be with Lucy the whole time."
She sounds steady. I nod, pulling away to look at my little brother.
"Lucy won't get a second of peace," Jonah promises.
I pause, emotions roiling through my body.
"Thank you," I whisper, pulling my blanket tighter around me.
Then I'm in a car and we're breaking traffic laws to get me to the airport.
When my phone first rings, I expect it to be Nokomis. Instead, it's Lucy.
"Where are you?" she asks frantically the second I pick up, "I woke up and you were just gone - "
"Lucy," I say, trying desperately to still the tremor in my voice, "something's happened to Orion. I'm so - I'm so sorry, but I have to go."
"What - what happened? Is he okay?"
Is he okay? Is he o k a y ? I swallow, hard, and for a moment I can barely breathe through the panic.
"He's - gone. He's gone."
She pauses.
"Where are you?"
"I'm on my way to the airport."
She's silent for another moment.
"What. What should I do?" she asks, panicked.
"Lucy," I begin, and the tears are burning, "I think you should still have the surgery. We're running out of time. Mom and Jonah are there, and they'll take care of you. But I - I can't be there with you, right now. Goddess, honey, I'm so sorry."
And this - this is the hardest thing I've ever done. Not running to Orion, not running from him, not fighting against Dad. Leaving Lucy - it's impossibly difficult. It feels like I'm dying.
"I'm scared, Lee."
"I know." I feel like a ragged line is growing in my rib cage, splitting me between Orion and Lucy - but Orion needs me, right now, even more than she does. Guilt presses against my lungs, but another wave of pain washes over my body, with new tears collecting in my eyes, and I have to suppress a sob.
Her breathing is static in my ear for just a second.
"It's okay, Lee. I'll be okay. I'll do the surgery."
"Lucy - I love you."
"I'll see you soon," she says sternly, "you and Orion."
After she hangs up, I take a breath in and slowly release it. I clear the panic as far into the back of my mind as it will go, and I put the ringing phone back up to my ear. I skip the hello.
"Tell me what we know," I say.
"Not much," Nokomis replies. Her voice is like mine - scratchy and decayed with tears.
"He had been with guards all afternoon," she continues, "He was in his office, but he had to go to the library to grab a book. The guards had just changed rounds. We found one of them, dead, in the hallway, near the office. We think that - on the way to the library, one of the guards attacked the other and somehow overpowered Orion. Maybe he had backup. There's one blind corner in that entire hallway and somehow they knew exactly where to stage it. Someone came across the guard's body an hour later and that's how we knew. That's how we knew."
I bite my lip to keep a cry from escaping. My hand begins shaking.
"They're hurting him," I choke out. "Whoever it is is hurting him."
"But he - he's - "
"He's still alive," I confirm. Nausea fills the pit of my stomach. Still alive. Who knows how much longer that will be the case. Unless this - this cold is him dying.
"Who?" I ask. "Was it the Order?"
"We assume. But we don't know anything."
"I'm two minutes away from a plane," I tell her. "What do I need to do?"
Her voice is soft and desperate when she answers.
"Pray."
-
It's like I can't produce warmth. It's all leeched out of my fingertips and toes. Within minutes of arriving at the Palace, I have another blanket. It's not doing much to help.
"Is there anything else?" Nokomis presses.
I try desperately to remember details. Even thinking about it makes me nauseous. The boils on Orion's back - the blood tearing a ragged line down his face. I sink into a chair, my legs no longer able to hold me.
"A room," I say, "it's all I saw. Concrete. No windows. A man - maybe more than one? It was dark, but I don't know if it was nighttime." I look up at Alaric and Nokomis. "It could be anywhere."
"What did the man look like?" Nokomis asks.
"He was in the shadows. Uhm - white, brown hair, uh." I close my eyes, reimagining the scene. "No, blond. Curly. Tall, uhm. I didn't recognize him."
"Please get photos of all alphas and betas for us to present to Princess Lee," Alaric commands one of the deltas standing by the doors. "Delta Yates will be able to help you."
I hear the guard close the door, but my mind is already replaying the nightmare over and over again. Orion's screams seem to sound again in my ears. I flinch.
"What do they want from him?" Nokomis says. "Did they talk about a ransom? Are they looking for information?"
"No," I say softly. "They weren't asking him for state secrets. They didn't talk about a ransom."
I bring my knees up to my chest. Another wave of cold washes over me. "They're just hurting him," I say. My voice doesn't sound like my own. "Just hurting him."
Nokomis's face crumples in grief.
"Lee," the king says, suddenly, like the temporary silence was hurting him, "have you eaten anything? You look half-dead."
Before I can reply, he's sending an order down to the kitchen for a food tray. I feel half-dead, I want to say.
"I don't think I can eat," I say instead. My stomach still turns with the images, spinning at the pace of my thoughts.
"Do we have any other leads?" I ask.
Both the King and I look to Nokomis for guidance.
"Luna Dixon?" she asks after a moment.
"Still missing," a delta confirms.
"Damn it all to hell," she mutters. "Damn -
And we stay like that until morning, watching every possible answer die.
Lucy goes into surgery at 9 AM.
I'm a nervous wreck. I can't handle this. I'm going to have a heart attack - or a seizure, or something. Delta Fenn is calling the hospital every hour or less for an update and everything is going okay, so far. She hasn't died on the table, at least.
And Orion -
The tears have slowed down, but I'm not sure if it's because he's sleeping or - or something worse. I don't think he's - I don't -
I'm not going to sleep. Even if I will see him. I can't do it. I can't watch it.
I think Nokomis wants me to sleep, to bring the nightmare on, but she won't ask me to. Maybe I should want the nightmares. What if they can lead me to him?
Still, I push it away. Maybe tonight. But not now.
In the meantime, I'm trying to do what little I can. I don't want to do this, but there's a sliver of a chance that I'll be able to help.
They put more guards on me, since it happened. I now have four of them flanking me as I go to the hallway where Orion got attacked.
We do have a little camera footage, just showing the outlines of the attack. It's impossible to identify the other guard that was with him - the one that attacked Delta Thompson. It's not the one that was supposed to be on guard. The footage is enough that it shows Orion's body being taken away. I couldn't really watch it.
For some reason, I'm afraid as we get closer to the corner in the camera footage. I don't want to breathe in because - because it will be there. The evidence. But I do.
There it is. The lingering scent of rain on pine trees. I inhale, deeply, trying to bottle it up inside of me.
I walk forward, resting my palm against the wood paneling on the wall. His scent is a bit stronger, there, where he must have brushed up against it. I can see Orion, walking quickly, agitation in his frame.
I take another step, following the trail and turning the corner. The guards would have trailed behind him. He was so used to them I doubt he even noticed, then. But then - two more steps - then one to the right - and one of the guards would turn on the other, take him down, then use something like - Wolfsbane? It must have been - and attack Orion from the back, but I don't understand, I don't understand, because
He is so much more than I am. He is so strong, so well-trained, so - how? How did he lose? How was one person enough?
Orion's scent goes one more step, careens into the wall, then the carpet, then he would have been dragged ten more feet down the hall, then the cameras cut out for three seconds and -
I stop, sinking into the carpet. I take another breath, but it's no use.
This is it. His scent is gone.
He is lost.
-
Jonah tells me that Lucy's surgery went perfectly. She's asleep, recovering, but Huntley thinks she will be able to start physical therapy in a month or so. He says they put a dozen metal rods in both her legs, sticking out in a steel cage from her hips to her ankles.
I don't know when I'll get to see her again. We started by counting in hours - hours since Orion has been missing. Then, we start counting in days.
By the end of the first week, I can hit the practice dummy with the knife every time.
By the end of the second, I can hit the heart. Every time.
By the end of the third, I can't remember exactly what Orion's voice sounds like.
I only hear it in the nightmares. And he's not talking, any more. Just crying and screaming and -
By the end of the fourth, I can fling a knife from 20 feet away and hit exactly where I was aiming. The knife sinks deep into the target. A killing shot.
Every time.