Caitlyn ran her hand over the soft fabric of Natalia's frock. It was so foreign, wearing Natalia's clothes in Kosa's body. But even though she'd been home and spoken things over with her parents, she couldn't risk wearing a dress of her own. While her parents' forgiveness and understanding gave Caitlyn courage, she needed to trick Crayver into believing she'd been thrown out. He was a powerful man and therefore loved to have people at his mercy.
"I still haven't had the pleasure of meeting this Kosa," commented Natalia, tying back the body's platinum hair.
"Yes, you have. Last night? Dinner? She came out."
"Oh," mumbled Natalia, "She pretended to be you."
"Doesn't sound like Kosa," Caitlyn said, "From what I've seen she likes to make her presence known. I'll talk to her."
"No, don't. I'll look more carefully next time." As if to demonstrate her observation skills, she let her eyes examind every inch of Kosa's body. "Perfect. A bit bony, but you're going to blow Crayver's socks off."
"That's not the plan. I just need to get close enough to be updated."
"And that by hopefully playing on his prior affections."
Caitlyn rubbed a hand across her right eye. "I doubt he had any. My understanding was that it's the match that appealed to him more than me."
"Well, if you didn't want him falling for you, you should have carried on sharing with that guy."
"That's not why we changed the plan," Caitlyn growled. They'd needed someone who would fight for control over the body and when Kosa had volunteered, it had made sense. The Vila girl was strong willed and sharing a body with her came with some perks, such as healing and transforming into a bird.
"Yeah, whatever," said Natalia, taking a moment to step back and admire her work of art, "Knock 'em dead."
Caitlyn shot her a warm smile, then headed out.
"Wait."
Caitlyn spun around, confused.
"You ever ditch me on something we're meant to do together again and you'll wake up at the bottom of the Tren." Natalia's ochre eyes burned like embers, reminding Caitlyn of Junior's. She shuddered. "Now go make me proud."
Caitlyn nodded and left Natalia's room. She spared a moment to look over the Lax home again, feeling guilty for the wealth she had known in her lifetime, then left. She had no time to mourn her birth right. Instead she needed to try to set things right.
Her only stop before the Camil was a chemist's. The bell rang as she pushed the door open and a whiff of diverse remedies swirled in the air. The shop was decorated to imitate those in locations more reminiscent of Oburon's home country. The stark reds contrasted the whites and pale yellows of its exterior but fully sold the place's purpose. The home to exotic remedies and spices.
"I need Ietan, one dose."
The robed woman behind the counter spun around to search her supplies. Caitlyn began drumming her nails against the counter. Unlike hers, that were usually manicured and filed into ovals, Kosa's were bitten down. It was rather distasteful.
You'd better stop insulting my body. Natalia liked it.
Back when she'd been sharing with Oburon, the Gaspa had been too reluctant to explore skills such as this. Kosa, however, was more willing to intrude on private moments.
"Why didn't you tell Natalia it was you?" muttered Caitlyn.
"Excuse me?" The woman looked up. Caitlyn swiftly shook her head and the shop owner returned to work.
She was cute. Do you know if she's single?
Caitlyn groaned. She didn't need Kosa hitting on Natalia. Caitlyn didn't even know if Natalia swung that way.
Before she could embarrass herself by replying again, the woman cleared her throat. Caitlyn smiled, reaching for the Ietan. "How much?"
The woman gave her a price, then inquired, "Do you require instructions?"
"Just a quick refresher, please."
"Dampen your fingers and rub it across the bone below your eyes." She demonstrively traced her own fingers around the dark circles under her eyes. "You'll see the desired effects within two minutes."
As soon as she'd left, she did as the woman had instructed her to. Kosa was going to hate her, but Caitlyn needed to sell this act. Besides, the puffiness would go away in half an hour.
By the time she'd reached the Calim, Kosa's soft brown eyes were red and puffy. It would have been preferable to force the tears out, but Caitlyn wasn't good at making herself cry.
You should have let me out. I'm a great actress.
Caitlyn wandered into the Calim with as much confidence and grace as she could muster. She could no longer rely on her face to carry her in, she needed to lie convincingly.
She reached the reception desk and said, "I need to talk to Mr. Crayver. Desperately. Mr. Sequor sent me."
"I've never seen you here before." The receptionist scowled.
"I recently moved sectors. Before I was involved with internal communications, now I've been transferred to external communications," said Caitlyn.
"Business card?"
She pulled out the elegant card her father had helped her create. She wished she could believe he had done so out of the goodness of his heart, but it was hard to tell. If the weapon ended the war, the Sequor's business would be doomed.
The receptionist handed one of the people that was milling around a card and mumbled that it was to be given to Crayver. Now all she could do was wait.
< | ■ | >
Hjalmar's return to the army had been a rather grim affair. Pritshitz - now a commander - had congratulated him on defeating the sand wizard and had even given him the rank of lieutenant. However, it had been clear that he had been hoping for an end to this war rather than the murder of a sand mage. Not just that, he was also displeased by the absence of Hazhil and Junior. Hjalmar had been honest regarding them, but had lied by saying he didn't know why she'd turned.
The camp hadn't changed much at all, but they were more festive now that they boasted a chosen one. It had always been a pretty pathetic camp, mainly harbouring new recruits, but now the few people who had been stationed there for years felt they were part of something great.
On the third night after his return, they hosted a celebration in his honour. Hjalmar felt uncomfortable with the whole ordeal, resulting in some people growing rather fond of him. There was nothing as bad as an arrogant hero. Surtren ideals encouraged pride, but pride in one's country and heritage, not in one's achievements and strengths. Others couldn't care less about Hjalmar and just wanted an excuse to get very drunk.
Hjalmar was lonely. He'd always been rather alone within the army, but it bothered him now more than ever. He'd known true friendship during the journey, the type that wasn't soured easily. When he'd ended things with Kosa, she hadn't minded. She'd still appreciated him. Yet he'd done barely anything to Linus and the man had detested him.
"Hjalmar Solberg. I see you've got them worshipping you."
When he looked up, his stomach somersaulted. The warmth of the summer night transformed into heat as his palms began to sweat. He could never forget those green eyes, never.
"Linus. Long time no see." His voice was dry and cautious.
"You too. I see you're a lieutenant," said Linus. Was that jealousy?
"Yes... Not sure I really want the rank but I couldn't exactly refuse..." Hjalmar admitted. The moon and campfire gave Linus' olive skin a seductive glow. He needed to stay calm, he needed to keep a cool head. But this had been why he had joined the army. To see the pretty boy that had broken his heart again.
"Look, I'm sorry about any bad blood, Hjalmar. I was young and foolish. You know I'm your friend. I will always be your right hand man." The corners of his mouth twitched and he smiled, but there was this odd intensity to his stare.
Slowly, everything clicked into place. Last time he'd seen Linus, the young man had been disgusted by Hjalmar. His homoromanticism had been unforgivable. Yet now that he was the chosen one, Linus came to him with an insincere apology in the hope that he'd raise Linus up.
With a lump in his throat, Hjalmar excused himself, "I'm afraid I have somebody I need to talk to."
Hjalmar stood up from the log he was sat on and headed as far away as possible. It was hard to recognise anybody in the light of the crackling fire. So, he just approached a random man.
"Hey, uh, sorry to bother you, I just wanted to get away from someone."
"I know the feeling," laughed the man, a hand running through his dark hair. He looked familiar.
"Excuse me, do I know you?"
The man shook his head. "Nope. The name's Arham Ahmed though. It's a pleasure."
Hjalmar's jaw dropped. "Your Yaz's brother."
"You know Yaz?"
"Yes, she talked about you a lot. Uh, it's complicated, but, uh, she was part of the chosen one thing. I can't really explain but-"
"Hey, hey, relax," Arham interrupted with a grin, "I'm not going to ask you to spit out all your secrets. My little sister, on the other hand... Well, she'll have to handle an interrogation."
Hjalmar laughed, his heart growing light. It was some comfort to be around someone he could speak more openly with.
"Can I fetch you a drink?"
"I'd like that."
< | ■ | >
The tall white doors were pushed open and within one more step, Caitlyn was in Crayver's office. He was neatly seated in a grey leather swivel chair, surrounded by paper work and maps. His office was rather like a small library, but everything was in it's proper place and rather untouched.
"What news do you bring, Miss Sommer?" Only then did he look up. "My, are you quite alright?"
As soon as the doors had closed, Caitlyn scrunched up her eyes as if she were battling tears. "I am so sorry, sir, I hate to impose."
Her voice clearly rang a bell. There was a flash of recognition in his cold eyes. "Do I know you?"
"Sir, I am not Miss Kosa. Well, this was her body until she died but... It's me, Caitlyn."
"What?" His upper lip drew up in anger.
"I know this all seems perfectly strange, but I can explain, I swear. Just give me time and a sympathetic ear."
So she began. She recounted the story they'd all pieced together, feigning emotions in the right spots. The beginning was truthful, narrating how she'd run away, how they'd chased after the sand mage. Then she explored how mystery had turned into deception and she'd returned back. As risky as it was, she confessed her betrayal to her nation. She admitted that she'd crept into his offices, for concealing it from him could be riskier since there was a chance he already knew. She recounted how they'd killed her and that was where her story neglected the truth.
"A while later, Kosa died. The Gaspa boy Oburon went to a witch and brought about my resurrection. He begged me to come back to them, but I couldn't. Those people murdered me in cold blood. They abandoned me, giving up all hope of my revival."
Now there were genuine tears appearing. She had never truly forgiven the Surtrenans for their complacency with her murder. Junior's reluctance hadn't bothered her as much, but Hjalmar and Yaz had come across as halfway decent. If it hadn't been for Oburon's heart of gold, she would still be dead.
She continued by claiming she'd travelled back, though it had been a long journey. The first thing she'd done upon her arrival had been to try and make amends with her parents, but in this tale they had disowned her, furious for all she'd done.
"I know it is injust for me to come to you like this. I know you are a busy man and have more important matters to deal with, but I have nowhere else to turn. Natalia's father refuses to offer me lodging and my parents have killed my reputation, meaning my former friends are out of the question. I did not know where else to turn."
Crayver ran a finger along his moustache. "You've come to the right place, Miss Sequor. After all you've been through, I could never turn you away. There is a guest apartment within my house. I hope you will find them satisfactory."
Caitlyn feigned delight, bordering on hysteria. A hand clapped against her mouth and her puffy eyes twinkled. "Oh, thank you, sir. I am forever indebted to you."
"Nonsense. It is an honour to house one of Soustren's greatest minds."
The arrangements were settled and as much as Caitlyn pretended to celebrate, this success left her cold. It was true, she had secured her place within Soustren as they had needed her to, but now she would be lodging with a man who had poisoned her.
The game had only just begun.
< | ■ | >
When Junior returned, it wasn't the soldier himself who notified Hjalmar of his return. Instead the duty fell to Arham Ahmed, which Hjalmar found to be a silly coincidence when considering the nature of his sister's and Junior's relationship. But any good humour disappeared as soon as Arham mumbled, "He's in some sort of weird meeting..."
Hjalmar made his way to Commander Pritshitz's tent, which was where his former companion supposedly was. Upon entering, the commander scolded him like a child. "Knock, Solberg."
"You can't exactly knock on a tent's flap."
"Then flap or stomp, Solberg," she growled. Junior turned around to see him, smiling sheepishly. Hjalmar wasn't sure he'd ever seen Junior that awkward.
"Where's Hazhil?"
There was the Junior he'd said goodbye to. Hurt and regret plagued him, but his tone was surprisingly calm and at ease when he said, "She's still a Wendigo, but there's a woman in the Zieva forest who is looking for a cure. Hazhil is safe with her and with others like her. If there's any hope for her, she'll be freed there."
"Good."
That was when Commander Pritshitz chimed in, "Yes, I've been talking to your good pal Equus here and he gave me the most fascinating recount of your adventures. One, where the sandman was a hoax and instead, Surtren is facing certain doom."
"It's not certain. We're going to prevent it," said Hjalmar, sceptically eyeing Junior. Telling Pritshitz had not been part of any plan. In fact, Caitlyn had explicitly begged them not to involve either army. "The war shouldn't end like this," she had said, "I want to bring about peace, but not like that."
"Prevent it by not telling your commander of this gleaming opportunity for the final blow? Soustren is a hub of conspiracy and betrayal right now; who knows when we'll next have a chance like that?"
Hjalmar stayed silent. What could he say? If he brought up Caitlyn's plea, he'd dig himself an even bigger hole, landing him titles such as traitor and sympathizer. Junior had played his cards and there was no going back.
"I apologise. I only did what I believed to be right."
"And you will pay for that," said Commander Pritshitz, "You will pay for that with your rank and reputation."
Hjalmar bowed down, betrayal bubbling in his gut. It wasn't his rank he mourned. It was the ability to trust Junior.
< | ■ | >
A/N: There will be no more chapters until the finale is done. I want to publish all the remaining chapters together to enable those who wish to to binge read them. Thank you for your patience.