The Reformation Page 28

  “Okay, so what you called me here for. You came to me because I’m the only one who would accept this barbaric of a plan?”

  “Simplified, yes. But in reality, there’s so much more to it that just that.”

  “Good god, not more questionable motives, I hope?”

  “Well, you are good at stealth…” she trailed off, looking everywhere but at him.

  “Fey? You don’t mean to say that I need to stalk the girl?”

  Her eyes shot up to meet his, and he had to restrain a groan. “You say it like it’s a bad thing. It’s not, really. It’s just when we need to take her, that’s all. And to collect information.”

  “Fey, this idea is-”

  “Genius?”

  Jan allowed himself a wry chuckle at that one, though he suppressed the twitch of his lips. “I was going to say insane, but sure, that applies, I guess. But you’re risking a lot; much more than what we can pay. And it isn’t just our price to pay.”

  “But you surely see the opportunity?”

  “Yeah. And how stupid we have to be to give it up. I get why, it’s just, should we?”

  “Jan. I think that you know, that we both know, that we’re gonna do it, no matter what we say now.”

  “And you’re right. But the king?”

  “We’ll figure something out. Speaking of what happened with Z today-”

  “It was gruesome,” Jan admitted, allowing himself to at least confess that. “And I didn’t even go into his room to speak with him about it afterwards.” While he and Fey might be in the same room, discussing ideas sprung in their mind following the death of Arleyene Crawford, personal things like feelings were still unfamiliar waters.

  “It’s a lot.”

  “Fey. Don’t tell me that you want to interfere in your friend’s life as well.”

  “I’m not,” She was telling the truth, so Jan just let out a resigned sigh, and listened; it was the most he could do anyways. “It’s just that you know about what Millinde said, you were there.”

  “Where are you going with this?”

  “The Elixir. It’s the predominant source of new Immortales and of growing population of rebel bases. So two birds with one stone; if we-”

  “You’re crazy,” he told her, standing up as soon as the suggestion came out of her mouth. “How on earth do you think that we’re going to get our hands on that?”

  “That’s where the plan ties in.”

  Jan ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the short strands prick at his skin. What Fey wanted to do was already a bit on the far side of what Jan would consider safe. But this? This was complete new and dangerous territory. “Fey, I agree with you on your plan. But this addition was not part of that. It’s too risky.”

  “As if what we’re doing isn’t risky.”

  “It is. And that’s exactly my point. As if our chances were small enough as they were- but now? Look, they might not notice the stunt that you want to pull. But stealing their most valued possession will get us noticed, and will get us killed.”

  “But-”

  Jan sat back down on the chair so he was face to face with Fey, who was sitting dejectedly on her bed.

  “Fey, please.” Her eyes widened at that word, as shocked as he was when he heard the foreign plea fall out from behind his lips, but she had to know just how serious January was about this. “I’m pleading with you. Trust me like how you did in the stronghold—the Elixir will not help us. It’s a smart idea, but it’s too much for something too small. It’s only going to lead to bad things.”

  This time, it was Fey who let out a resigned sigh. She pursed her lips, and nodded. “It was too far of a stretch anyways.”

  Jan shuffled forwards so he was sitting on the edge of the chair, holding her gaze. “I will follow you to the end of this project Fey Downcley, but you have to promise me; no Elixir.”

  She nodded again, more confidently this time. “I promise you, January Kurata-Tormont, that I will not retrieve the Elixir of Immortality, for your peace of mind and well-being. I also don’t want to guarantee WWIV.”

  January gave a firm nod before letting his gaze drop from her eyes, feeling slightly more at ease with this latest guarantee. “Thanks, Downcley.”

  “Your last name is Kurata, huh?” January raised an eyebrow at the sudden question but humoured her anyway as the bed groaned as he shifted his weight.

  “I thought that we’ve been over this. Tormont, technically; that was my father’s last name. I like Kurata—my mother’s surname—better though.”

  “So Kurata-Tormont, what other deep, dark secrets do you hold?”

  Jan felt a muscle in his jaw twitch, though he restrained a smile. “I’m allergic to oranges.”

  Fey’s eyes were blown wide in astonishment, though January could see the amusement in them, and she was just about to open her mouth—no doubt to tease him about the ability to be allergic to citrus—but a voice carried from the doorway, cutting her off.

  “Do I want to know?” a very confused Z asked, standing in the doorway, frozen mid-stride.

  “January’s legal last name needs to be changed to Kurata-Tormont,” Fey informed him confidently, and Z’s eyes just narrowed further in confusion.

  “Wasn’t it alrea- never mind.”

  January turned to Fey, a disbelieving look on his face. “I didn’t know you were in charge of my legal decisions, Downcley.”

  “I’m not; you just need to take more charge in your life.”

  “I’m sure I do,” he shot back, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in Fey’s chair.

  Z looked confusedly between the two, and Jan realized who weird this might look. Two enemies sitting and chatting casually, January Kurata-Tormont—heavens forbid—joking. Quickly shrugging off the comfort that had settled into Jan while bantering with Fey, he tended to the neglected Z. “What do you need, Z?”

  “I need to tell you that the meeting tonight is cancelled. The few, actually seeing as Jax has urgently left for a meeting on the Razed.”

  “Thanks for letting us know,” Fey said, though there was a flicker in her eye, one January knew to be wary of, and she quickly added, “Keep the meeting schedule for the day after tomorrow though, Z. I think Jax trusts us to make our own decisions.”

  The urgency of her voice only seemed to confuse Z even more. “Okay, then? I’ll leave you two to whatever was happening.”

  Z was closing the door as Jan shouted behind him: “And don’t you dare show up to dinner with a handful of oranges, Z!” Z laughter could be heard from the other side of the door, loud and booming and unrestraint.

  Now in the silence, the good timing and positive recent turn of events made Jan smile again; which probably set the record for the number of smiles that he had smiled within a day. He didn’t have to turn to know what Fey was thinking, but he did it anyway. Her dark eyes were shining, and a smile to mirror his own rare expression, was splayed across her face.

  Luck apparently is on our side.

  Forty

  “OKAY, hallway’s clear.” The group (minus Jan) was in Fey’s room, where the Manaroan girl was suspiciously checking the hallways. If the sudden meeting wasn’t enough, the strange behaviour of Fey Downcley was enough to already make Celine suspicious.

  But somehow, Celine was still surprised by Fey’ words, looking at the girl in wide-eyed confusion. “What?”

  “Fey’s planning homicide,” Z informed Celine, plopping down on the bed beside her.

  “Oh, really? How do you know?” Celine asked, swinging her legs into the mechanic’s lap.

  He pursed his lips, eyes smiling. “A guy can speculate.”

  Fey gave them both a look. “Shut up, Z. I’m not planning on killing someone, though I think you’re starting to convince me to.” Z shrank back a bit. “I swear I mentioned this to you all,” Fey muttered, and Z’s lips curled into a bemused smirk.

  “Well whatever you thought you told us, you haven’t,” he informed her, tapping his fin
gers listlessly on the bedcovers.

  “She hasn’t. I dropped the suggestion during dinner,” Jan explained appearing out of seemingly nowhere. Celine had gotten so used to Jan approaching her so stealthily, that it somehow, ironically, lost its element of surprise.

  Celine eyed January suspiciously. “Since when were you and Fey on the same team?”

  Jan gave her a shrug. “Since we were.”

  “Z, sign me up for your conspiracy club please.”

  “Great! Now we have two fully operational members. Anyone else willing to join? I give one hell of a membership deal.” Fey rolled her eyes, sighing at Z’s sarcasm.

  “Guys.”

  “Hey, Z? Do I usually sound like Fey?” Z gave Celine an affirmative nod. “God, I apologize.”

  “My life-time quota of death-glares will be reserved with your three names,” Fey warned with a scathing look, though Celine was accustomed to it.

  “What did I do?” Jan asked, to which Fey shifted her glare to him, and he recoiled immediately, putting his hands up in truce. “God, don’t kill me just yet.”

  Fey let out an exasperated sigh. “The Areya Carson-Arleyene Crawford dilemma?”

  Jan’s face darkened, and Celine immediately saw guilt shadow on Fey’s face. Ever since they found out that Jan wasn’t the spy, he had become more comfortable, but everyone knew just how determined Fey was that it was January. And then, when Fey got proven wrong and Jan was proved innocent, there was a little tense air between the two, but laughably less when compared to before.

  “Yeah, what about it? Celine and I already figured that out. And she’s dead; she’s gone Fey, and the Immortales will notice,” Z said.

  “Yeah, but what if we seized the opportunity?” There was a glint in Fey’s eyes, one that Celine had long since realized to be wary of. Letting out a long exhale, Celine removed her legs from Z’s lap to fold them underneath herself.

  “Okay, pretend I’m stupid, because I don’t see how having a spy that has leaked all of our progress to the Immortale leader is an opportunity to seize,” Celine stated, words clipped, because yeah, she was kind of pissed that after everything they had done, it was for nothing.

  “We ran a scan, and we found a match. We found someone that is identical to Arey- Arleyene-, and we can bring her in, then send her to Elix,” Jan supplied. Celine knew where he was getting at, but right now, the bafflement that January Kurata-Tormont and Fey Downcley were working together, was just too much.

  Luckily, Jan continued on. “So if we can bring her in, and then get her to pose as Arleyene, which we will train her to become, she can go to Elix and get information that we need. After we get that information, we get our agent back, in guise of returning for urgent preparation of Jax’s signing. Then we stage Arleyene’s death.”

  “It’s risky,” Z stated, propping his feet up on the table. “The stakes are high. So if that gives any indicator to the punishment of painful death, I’m in!”

  Celine, at this point, was gnawing on her purple pen, suspecting that there was something that Jan wasn’t telling them.

  Fey put her hands down on the table, eyeing all of them seriously. “I know it is risky, and that’s why I’m taking full responsibility. Lives are at stake, and I’m fully aware of that; and I, and I alone, will take full bearing of this weight. Got it?”

  “Why is it so important that Jax is gone? Celine finally asked. “Shouldn’t we be making this decision with the king?” Fey looked guilty, but she hardened her dark eyes. Celine could see how much this decision was tearing up Fey, but how much the girl wanted it done.

  “He can’t know. And he doesn’t; so if we get the girl up on Elix by the time he’s back, then he can’t stop it,” Fey said. Celine felt the suspicion in her flare up. Fey was risking a lot. And she was asking them to help her.

  “Okay, what we’re doing anyway is beyond risky, but at least we have Jax’s consent to do what we do! But this- this is insane. It’s a death wish. It’s treason,” Celine emphasized, hearing her voice raise in volume. “What if we get caught? Not only will that cost that girl’s life, but then the Immortales will have a solid reason to wage war on NNR.”

  “I know that you like to stick with rules, Celine. But that’s not going to work. We have a shot and we have to take it,” the Manaroan resolutely stated.

  “Lives, Fey. Lives,” Celine reminded her, a fire burning in her eyes. She ran a hand through her hair frustratedly, not caring how bad and messed up the locks looked. “I’m the Head Strategist, and I am the final say.”

  Jan opened his mouth, but closed it. If Celine wasn’t so preoccupied with Fey’s latest decision, she probably would’ve dwelt on it, but as of now, she was just grateful that he realized that this one wasn’t his fight.

  “You know this is the only way, Celine. We’re fighting against something that we can’t win against, and now that we finally have a chance? —no. We can’t let that go; and we have to do something about it now.” Despite the harshness in her tone, Fey looked so weary of the fighting that she was talking about. So tired.

  Yes, Celine could see it a little clearer when she got past her own problems. The hollows of Fey’s face were deeper, the rings under her eyes darker, and every motion was a little more sluggish. Celine wasn’t the only one here with an illness; and Fey said that it was gradually getting worse, not bothering to deny it like Z had. She knew it. But she was fighting.

  Maybe she wasn’t the only one who needed to fight.

  Celine let out a little dejected sigh, leaning back on her chair. “So who’s this doppelganger?”

  Forty-One

  STEL was not having a good day. And that was before she was kidnapped.

  “Sir. Please. 57 venz now, and I’ll pay the remaining by next week.”

  “You’re a bloody fool if you think that I’ll take up on that offer. Paying 53 venz within a week in no easy task, especially for a young woman like yourself. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  “I’ll find a way. Please, sir. I’m her only family; she’s just a small girl.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t go handing out bottles of remedies around. 110 venz, which is a bargain itself, and 110 only. Now if you can’t pay, I’ll need to get to the next customers.”

  Stel’s feet were rooted in the dirty apothecary floor. Fallon needed her, and there was no way that she was going now. She managed to scrounge up 57 venz, and she came this far, the least she could do is try a little harder. “She’s an orphan.”

  “So is this entire city. Look, if you want it, you’re gonna need hard work and to get that money. Now-” he made a little motion with his hand, to get out of the way. Stel stood there, disbelieving.

  “Do you think that we don’t try and work hard? You need more than hard work in these times; you need luck. Now what if you find that you can’t make another medicine as soon as the supplies stop coming in? You already have made so many shortcuts in your brewing techniques, I’m surprised no one has dropped dead after using your medicine. The woman that was in front of me whm you gave the barentheol bark extract to? You claimed it would cure Scorchen, but no way could you sell that at 2010 venz; otherwise wouldn’t the dead king be alive?”

  “Look, that’s all fine and dandy, but you are causing quite the commotion. Now go,” the storekeeper hissed, but the murmurs of the customers behind Stel overpowered his voice. And the doubt that Stel was giving the rest of his customers was somehow motivation her. So she stood a little taller, and fired out yet another round of her business-damaging observations.

  “And you don’t even have barentheol. Unless, of course, you store that pricey bark in a container labelled clay?”

  More murmurs. “And-”

  “Get!” Stel looked up at the furious man’s face, before realizing she was pushing a bit too much. “That’s it, the deal is done. You won’t get your remedy for anything, much less 110 venz. And moreover, if I ever see your face here again, I will personally make sure that m
y guard dog has you,” he snarled, lips pulled back into a threatening scowl. His eyes were steely, not at all amused by her anymore, and she knew that she was this close to missing her only shot.

  “I-I didn’t mean-” Stel stuttered out, attempting to take her words back.

  “You didn’t, what?” The storekeeper pretended to not hear her. Stel was tempted to snap back an I didn’t mean to save the money of every person here, but Stel bit back her words and her pride. She would apologize, regardless of how much her ego wouldn’t let her. This was for Fallon. All for Fallon.

  “I apologize for causing as much as a ruckus as I did, and I didn’t mean anything that I said. My deepest apologizes, for you, sir, and everyone here.”

  “Good. Now get out of my store.” Stel’s face fell. “Oh, you thought that you would get your medicine? Tough luck, kiddo. Now get out.”

  Stel turned, knowing that she lost this battle. She kept her chin high, not daring to look at anyone and their jeering laughter, or worse yet, sympathetic glances. After all, she would have to hold one to the shred of self-dignity that she had left.

  But when she made it past the wooden doors of the apothecary, she felt tear prickle at her eyes, stinging and threatening to fall any second. She had failed Fallon. And worse yet, her younger sister would probably give her one of her sad smiles, and say ‘it’s alright Stel’, as she turned into her pillow to cough up wet crimson.

  Fallon had held on for a remarkably long time, seeing as she had the barest amount of treatment. It was miraculous that she was pushing through, but Stel knew that even her resilient sister couldn’t hold on for any more than a few months.

  Pulling her only sweater tighter around her body, she braved through the bitingly cold remainder of the spring’s wind. The weather had been perfect on the day that Stel could make out the rash on Fallon’s neck, she remembered that. The day that Fallon couldn’t stop crying because she was dying, and Stel soothing her sister to sleep, only daring to weep when she was asleep. The darkness brought the protection of becoming unseen, so no one could see the wetness of her cheeks, so Fallon wouldn’t see the condition that her older sister—her hero—was in. Stel was the only family she had, and how could she see the one constant in her life crumble away?