A Touch of Truth by Bella Forrest
“Me neither,” Maura said. She picked up her tin of lentils again and continued eating slowly.
I stared at the siblings, at their macabre expressions. From the way they spoke so plainly about their pending demise, it was clear that they’d known for a long time now that they would die young. After all, they had been sentenced to execution. I supposed that they saw this extra extension of their life provided by the IBSI—however grim an existence it was—as time they would never have had anyway.
As our conversation fell into a natural lull, the three of us falling into our own thoughts, I realized that I couldn’t wait any longer to relieve myself. I asked to use the bathroom, and locked myself inside. After emptying my bladder, I pulled the flush absentmindedly, and to my surprise, it actually did flush. There was running water. I moved to the sink and turned on the tap. More running water.
I couldn’t help but find that strange. How long had this part of Chicago been like this? It must have been years. And yet the authorities continued to provide a water supply. It seemed almost like a courtesy to those living here, to not leave them completely abandoned. But courtesy was not something that I linked with the IBSI.
Shaking away the thoughts, I dried my hands and returned to the main room. Maura had finished her lentils and moved to one of the mattresses, where she lay on her side, facing the wall, her back turned to the rest of the loft. Orlando was seated again at the table, tucking into his own tin of lentils.
As I sat down next to him, he gestured to the supply of tinned food beneath the table. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
I shook my head. I was many things right now, but hungry definitely wasn’t one of them.
“So,” Orlando said, brushing the side of his mouth with the back of his hand, “are you going to tell us how exactly you got here? Why were you in handcuffs, if you aren’t a criminal?”
I paused, still mulling over everything the siblings had told me until now. I really wasn’t in the mood to start talking about myself, but it was only courteous to respond in kind. “I came across something that the IBSI really wants to keep secret… FOEBA.”
Orlando’s long face scrunched up in confusion. “What’s that? Sounds like some kind of infection.”
I heaved a sigh. “Well, that’s just it. I was roaming around IBSI’s headquarters back in Hawaii, trying to get some clues. I had managed to infiltrate it, but then I got caught and taken to Chicago. I was unable to uncover anything at all other than the fact it’s something the IBSI is extremely touchy about.” I explained to him in brief about the thumb drive Arwen and I had found. As I thought of Arwen, I felt a sharp pang in my chest. Where was she now? Where were my parents? Were they still on the mission in the ogres’ realm with the League? Did they know that I was missing yet?
Thinking about the stress my family would be in once they found out I was gone tied my stomach up in knots.
I had to find a way to get back to them.
I cut my explanation short and turned my focus on the main obstacle facing me: reaching a phone.
“Orlando,” I said, “Do you have any—”
“I’m going to sleep now,” Maura called irritably from her corner, interrupting me. “So if you’re gonna keep talking, keep your tone down, please.”
“Sorry,” I murmured, glancing at her before returning my attention to Orlando.
He finished the last of his lentils and stood up. “It’s best we don’t talk here then,” he said. “Come with me.”
Maura sat up. “Where are you going?” she asked her brother. Anxiety showed in her eyes as she clutched her blanket.
“It’s okay, Maura,” he said. “We’ll just climb up to the roof and sit there a bit.”
“Go via the skylight, so you can hear me if I call,” she said. The angst in her voice reminded me of a child who was afraid of the dark. Quite at odds with the tough exterior she’d put on around me until now. I looked at her curiously as she settled back down on her mattress and pulled up her blanket. Clearly, there were layers of these two siblings that I had yet to unravel.
Orlando gripped the ladder, checking that it was steady, before he began to climb it. When he reached the glass in the ceiling, he fiddled with the latch and then pushed upward, easing it open. Splashes of rainwater trickled down into the loft as he slid out.
He gazed down at me. “Are you coming or not?”
The truth was, I would so much rather stay down here in the dry warmth. The last thing I wanted to do was go outside again, but, taking hold of the ladder, I climbed up to him and joined him in standing on the roof. At least the rain was not as intense as it had been. It was more of a light drizzle now—still unpleasant and chilling, though.
“Oh, hey,” I said, “Do you have a lighter, or matches?”
“I have a lighter,” he said, dipping into his pocket and handing one to me. I ignited a flame and coaxed it into my palms. I cradled it and balled it into a larger fire to keep the two of us warm as we sat and gazed out at the gray city sprawled around us.
Orlando stared at the flames in my hands. “Do you have any other powers?” he asked.
“I can mess with water,” I replied, “and sometimes I can manipulate wind, too.” The latter, admittedly, I wasn’t very practiced at, but I’d noticed since I was young that I could redirect gusts of wind, or cause them to be stronger to a certain degree.
Orlando’s almost-black eyes lingered on my face. “Maybe you won’t turn, after all,” he commented.
Thanks for reminding me.
I glanced down at my legs. The stinging of the puncture wounds was definitely less than before, and had not been replaced with some other kind of excruciating pain. Maybe Orlando was right. I had heard that Bloodless did not affect everyone—for example, according to Aisha, they couldn’t turn witches. Or werewolves, or other supernatural species that weren’t vampires. Maybe the fae blood running in me was just enough to stop me from turning as a normal human would.
I let out a long, slow breath, allowing myself to experience a moment of relief—a feeling that had become practically foreign to me in the past few days. The relief might have been unfounded—since, as Maura had pointed out, it could also simply be that the turning process was delayed due to me being half-human. But for now, I let it wash over me. There was only so much stress a person could take before they snapped.
And there was no point in worrying about something that might or might not happen—something that I had absolutely no control over right now. I had to simply do what I could… and that brought me right back to the subject I needed to ask Orlando about right now: How do I find a phone?
“I need to make contact with my people, back in The Shade,” I said. “Do you have any idea where I might find a working phone?”
“A working phone,” Orlando repeated. His blank expression immediately made my heart sink to my stomach. “There are plenty of broken phones around here, but you won’t find any working ones. That was something that Maura and I tried to locate in the beginning. We have an uncle in New York whom we wanted to contact to inform him about what had happened to us… and ask whether there was something he might be able to do to help. Let’s just say we failed miserably.”
“What about in the neighboring human settlements?” I asked him. “I know you said that trying to gain entrance to the civilization on the other side of the river—where the IBSI is keeping watch—is pointless and dangerous. But there must be some other normal, human civilization somewhere nearby. What about further east? What about on the other side of Lake Michigan? You already have a boat, don’t you? What if we followed the river and just… sailed away from this pit?”
Orlando pursed his lips, his eyes fixed on the grim skyline.
“It’s a nice idea,” he said simply.
“Well?” I pressed, frustrated.
“Boat is rather a flattering term for what Maura and I were floating in when we found you,” he replied. “It’s just a raft made of junk.”
“
Orlando shook his head, cutting me off. “That part of the city is notorious for the most brutal gangs. It’s also where the Bloodless are most concentrated. The odds of you even reaching the shore alive are low… If the Bloodless don’t get to you first, the criminals will.”
“But if you’ve never been there, how do you—”
“We know,” he said, impatient, “because we’ve been told. Although we do lock ourselves up and try to avoid everyone, there are a handful of other survivors whom we are on semi-decent terms with. On the few occasions that we happen to pass each other, we exchange information.” He exhaled. “Even leaving aside the Bloodless and the criminals, there are electrified fences closing off the shore from the mainland, and there are barriers blocking the river’s entry to the lake. One thing the IBSI has made amply obvious to all residents of this craphole is that they want us to stay put… If you don’t believe me, go ahead and try it. Try to escape yourself.”
I clenched my jaw. Going out again all alone was my very, very last resort. Maura and Orlando knew this city a hundred times better than I did. They knew all its perils, how to dodge them and what to look out for. I was much more likely to survive and be successful with their help. Besides, venturing out alone into this place of nightmares… I gulped. It was downright terrifying.
In spite of Orlando’s words, I still couldn’t bring myself to believe that, together, it would be impossible to reach the shore. There had to be some way to slip through and find a proper boat. The siblings had their spinning blade-wheel thing, and I had my ability to control fire. Joining forces, surely we could pull it off—or at least attempt it without losing our lives.
I voiced my thoughts to Orlando, and in the end, he agreed with me that it might be possible, but… there wasn’t an ounce of life or enthusiasm in him to attempt it, even with my help. Maybe he really was just past thinking he could escape this place. Maybe they had just had one too many failed escape attempts and were worn out, preferring to accept this as their life. Since they had already accepted that they were going to die from the IBSI’s treatment, maybe, in their last days or weeks—who knew how long they had left to live—they simply wanted to avoid trouble as much as possible. Retreat into their shells.
That would definitely be consistent with Maura’s behavior—her desire to just leave me in that sewage tunnel… though I could not deny that they had gone to the trouble of chasing after me in the first place and rescuing me. Then Orlando had insisted that they bring me with them. They definitely had some fire left in them.
Maybe the problem was that they just didn’t know where they would be escaping to anymore. Maybe they thought that, even if they managed to escape, they would simply be recaptured again. After all, outside this Bloodless territory, the siblings were practically as good as dead anyway, having been sentenced to execution by the government. They would have to spend the rest of however long their lives were in hiding… on the run… which was basically how they lived now.
But what if I could make them see something more for their future? What if…
“What if we tried to escape, and find a boat, and together look for a phone?” I said, breaking the silence. “And what if I made you a promise that, if we found a phone, I would bring you back to The Shade? Our safe, beautiful island where there is no shortage of food or amenities. Even if you’re convinced that you’re going to die, I assure you that your last days will be better spent on our island than here.”
I realized as I said the words that I was promising a place on our island to convicted murderers. But my brain was muddled with desperation right now. I had to get back home. Besides, at least from what they had told me, they had murdered because they had been lacking food. If we provided them with everything they needed, I didn’t see a reason why they couldn’t be like normal upstanding citizens…
But I was getting ahead of myself. Way ahead of myself.
I widened my eyes at Orlando, waiting for his response.
“Even if we managed to escape, and even if we found a working phone and managed to contact your people back in The Shade,” he mused, “what makes you think that we would be welcome?”
“My grandparents are king and queen,” I replied proudly. “My parents are prince and princess. I would find a way for you to stay. That really ought to be the least of your worries.”
He rubbed his face in his palms and went quiet for several minutes. When he raised his head again and met my eyes, his expression was dark, but set with resolution.
“All right, Grace,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll talk to Maura in the morning. If she agrees, we’ll try it.”
“Not try.” I imagined the oracle’s words in my head, the way my father told me she had once spoken to him. “Trying is for cowards.”
I set my jaw in determination and gave Orlando a hard stare. “If she agrees,” I corrected him, “we will do it.”
He coughed out a dry laugh. “A lot easier said than done, Grace,” he muttered grimly. “A lot easier said than done…”
Ben
After we had recovered the ogre king, Anselm Raskid, and his people from the hunters’ clutches in their hideout beneath the lake, the League continued to search for other IBSI bases that might’ve sprung up around The Trunchlands. We found several others and destroyed them all before obliterating the final one—the one closest to the gate leading back to the human realm, which had been the one that had alerted us to the IBSI’s presence in The Trunchlands to begin with.
Then we decided to return to The Shade. We had to consider carefully what our next move ought to be. If we had discovered the IBSI’s footprints in The Woodlands and The Trunchlands, there was a good possibility that they had already set up in other realms too. I found myself wondering whether The Tavern had been affected yet. To me, that was the obvious place for the League to head next. Even if the IBSI had not made their presence felt there yet, there was a myriad of supernatural creatures passing through it and we should be able to quite easily gain the latest news and rumors of the IBSI’s movements.
We returned to Earth via the gate on the ogres’ beach. Kyle was waiting patiently with Nightshade on the other side. To my aunt Vivienne and uncle Xavier’s great dismay, he informed us that Victoria and Bastien had come this way, along with Regan and Azaiah. They had been on their way to the Blackhalls’ lair in The Woodlands, he said. After a worried conversation, Xavier decided that he too would head for The Woodlands.
“I’m going to bring Vicky home,” Xavier said firmly to Vivienne. “She might be an adult, but I don’t care in this case. She’s still a teenager and it’s a completely unnecessary risk, her hanging out in werewolf territory. Things are simply still too volatile between the dimensions for that right now.”
I certainly didn’t think that it was a good idea at all that Victoria returned there—even with dragons accompanying her—since there wasn’t a speck of supernatural blood in her. She was human and vulnerable. But it seemed that she really had fallen for Bastien. I knew all too well how hard it was to be apart from somebody you loved, even if it meant risking danger.
One of the dragons, Neros, volunteered to go with Xavier—both of them knew where to find the Blackhalls’ lair, since we had visited there already during our stay in The Woodlands. The vampire and dragon headed off, back to the supernatural dimension, while the rest of us piled into Nightshade to begin the short journey to our island.
I caught my wife’s hand as we made our way through the chopper, toward one of the empty back rows. River sat in the window seat and I sat next to her. As the aircraft prepared to take off, she leaned against my shoulder and slid one arm around my midriff. I kissed the top of her head, wrapping my
“You okay?” I asked. We had barely had any time alone recently with all the craziness that had been going on.
“Yeah,” she replied softly. “I’m just thinking about Grace… wondering how she’s been doing.”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning my head back against my chair. I gazed down into River’s turquoise eyes and we shared a smile.
“I’m so proud of her, you know,” River said.
My smile broadened. “I know,” I replied, dipping to kiss her lips.
I couldn’t have wished for a better daughter than Grace. I saw many of River’s qualities in her—her caring nature, her honesty and strength, to name a few—and I also hoped that I had managed to instill in Grace a lesson or two from what I had learned and been taught over my years of living.
I did worry about her though. It would be a lie to say otherwise. As much as The Shade’s way of raising children had changed—going from trying to stifle them and keep them away from danger at all costs, to encouraging them to develop the skills and experience to face it—of course, as a parent, I could never stop worrying. Now that I had Grace, I could appreciate more than ever what my parents had been through when Rose and I had been away from The Shade on our misadventures.
It hurt deep inside to watch your child walking into danger. But this was the world we lived in now. And I hoped that River and I had prepared Grace well for it.
River and I eased into a relaxed silence while we gazed out the window and watched the ground disappear beneath us. I relished the peace, the feel of my love in my arms as we soared back toward The Shade.
I had to admit that after almost two decades of possessing this fae body, my time as a ghost and those harrowing days I’d spent in The Underworld seemed so far off, so distant, almost like a different life. Although I would never, and could never, forget all that had happened, never taking a physical body for granted was still a decision I had to make every day.