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Authors: Kelly Thompson

Storykiller (35 page)

BOOK: Storykiller
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Fenris had, naturally, disappeared not long after reaching a small clearing where he said they should camp,
and Robin and Tessa pitched the tent in silence.

“It would be great if you could let up just a little bit,” Tessa said.

Robin looked at her over the tent. “I’m sorry but I can’t. I don’t trust him. And I don’t understand why you do.”

“For the record,” Tessa said, unzipping a flap on the tent, “I never said I trusted him.”

“You keep letting him in,” Robin argued.

“I do not. He keeps coming in. There’s a big difference,” Tessa said. “And when he comes in, he saves lives and offers valuable information. So, I don’t see as I have much choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Tessa,” Robin said flatly. “You’re taking the easy road, and the ends are not going to justify the means.”

“Interesting philosophy, coming from you,” Tessa said bitterly. She was grouchy and frustrated. She wanted to be swooning and in love. Not fighting. She didn’t understand why he was being so difficult or why she was so offended by it. The whole thing made her feel out of control, which she hated.

“What does that mean?” he asked, his tone sharp.

“Are you kidding me? Your whole entire bit is stealing from the rich to feed the poor, how is that not the
definition
of ends justifying the means?!”

“It’s different,” he said, frustrated, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

“Oh, of course it is,” Tessa said. “Conveeennnnient.”

“Listen, there are means and then there are means. Sometimes the risk is worth it, sometimes it’s not. In this case, I believe t
here are other ways,” Robin said.

Tessa turned angrily on him. “Really?! Bishop is dead, Robin. Micah and Brand nearly died yesterday too. Micah is now bonded with some incredibly dangerous demon that could turn on her, or any of us, any second, and look at my goddamn face!?! Circe, a freaking Greek goddess, and seriously powerful witch is possibly working with the Frankenstein Monster to build a zombie army in order to kill everyone around me, do God knows what with me, and probably take over the world,
and you think I’m just going the easy way for the hell of it? I’m going with the only options I see!”

Robin walked around the tent and took her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Tessa snatched her hand away. He reached for it again and pulled her into him. “I’m sorry,” he said again, quieter, “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” she said, into his jacket. “But I need you with me, not against me. And every time you question my choices it just, it makes me even more afraid that I’m doing the wrong thing, making the wrong call, over and over again. It only—”

“What?”

“It just reminds me that it’s my fault Bishop is dead—”

“It’s not your fau—”

“—You weren’t there, Robin. It
was
my fault. And I can’t bear it if I get someone else killed. Someone I know, someone I lo—someone I care for.”

He finally got it. He nodded and held her tighter. “Okay. I’ll try. I promise.”

Tessa saw Fenris watching them from the edge of the woods and pulled back, startled. Fenris smiled and stepped into the clearing.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said smoothly.

“No, you’re not,” Tessa said.

“True,” he agreed, tilting his head to the side. He watched Tessa for a long moment and then moved to the fire Tessa and Robin had started. He took out a map that he’d marked up. Tessa and Robin crouched down to examine it with him. “You should leave no later than five a.m.,” he said.

“We should?” Tessa interrupted. “Where will you be?”

“Around,” he said.

“What the hell, Fenris?” she sighed.

He ignored her. “You follow this path,” he pointed to the markings on the map, and then pointed to a dense, barely visible path leading out of the clearing they were in. “That way. Push hard and it will take you less than 90 minutes to get to the lake,” he began, and Robin interrupted.

“There’s no lake on the map,” Robin said, pointing to the dense trees at the end of Fenris’ marked path.

“Trust me, it’s there,” Fenris said. Robin made a huffing sound at the word trust.
Tessa cut him a look.

“Once you get there, you have to call The Lady forth. Spill your blood in the lake, Scion, and that should do it.”

Tessa scrunched up her face. “I’m running out of blood, man.”

Fenris looked at her. “You have plenty left yet to give.”

 

Robin went to the tent first, probably because it was hard for him to sit still
and
be close to Fenris for so long. Tessa wanted to go too, but she was feeling fidgety and unsure. She sat with Fenris, thinking about The Monster, thinking about everything. When she finally spoke, her voice was a whisper.

“Why doesn’t he want to kill me?”

Fenris gazed at her and said nothing.

“He said
‘kill everyone but The Scion.’
Is it just because he doesn’t want the border to close? Could that be it? Is there some big plan? Is there something big coming through, what?”

“I suspect that is all true,” Fenris said, his sentence sounding unfinished.

“But what?”

“But I suspect there’s more. I think he wants something very specifically from you.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, Hardcore.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Have you read his Story?”

“The Cliffs Notes,” Tessa said, blushing. Fenris tsked her and she shrugged.

“The Monster is a miserable outcast. He fits in nowhere. He belongs nowhere. A foot in both worlds, welcome in none.”

“That’s grim,” Tessa said.

“It’s life for some of us,” Fenris said and then stood up unexpectedly. Tessa stood too and was taken by surprise when he reached out to touch her face. Tessa grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“What
are you doing?” she asked. He removed her hand from his wrist and continued to reach for her, pushing her hair out of the way so that he could see her face. Her injuries had gone a long way toward healing, but from the looks of it she was going to have at least one big scar.

“Tch,” he said, clucking his tongue. “Too bad,” he said, his voice rough, and then he touched her cheek near the wound lightly. Tessa bristled and pulled away from him.

“It’s fine,” she said, but her voice was uncertain and he knew it. He lowered his hand and she relaxed. “It’s not really my primary concern,” she said, wishing the statement was as true as it should be.

“Where will you sleep?” Tessa asked.

“I’ll be around,” he said, disappearing into the woods.

 

In the tent later, with Fenris gods knew where, Tessa couldn’t sleep. She lay in the crook of Robin’s arm and listened to his heartbeat. “Are you asleep?” she whispered.

“No.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Robin,” Tessa said,
biting back tears.

“You’re doing great, you’re doing your best,” Robin said, stroking her hair.

“I don’t think that’s enough.”

“It will be. It has to be. And I believe in you,” he said.

Tessa sighed into him. “I’m so tired. I feel like, I feel like this whole thing was a mistake.”

“What whole thing?”

“This Scion business. Me being The Scion—all of it.”

“It’s not,” Robin said assuredly.

“How can you say that with such conviction?”

“Because I’ve seen you in action.”

“Seen me in action? I’ve gotten at least one man killed, permanently scarred my friends and my face, destroyed an ancient Story, and I’m scared
all the time
, all in a matter of weeks. What’s so great about that action?”

There was a long pause before he continued, “Do you know what your name means?”

“Means?”

“I find the meanings of names interesting, especially for Fiction,” he said.

“I’m not Fiction,” Tessa said, a little too hard.

“Well, you sort of are,” Robin said, a little too matter-of-factly.

“I’m not,” Tessa snapped.

“Okay, fine,” he said, backtracking. “Regardless, your mother, she knew who you were, who you might be, who you might become. And her name, you told me it’s Sophia, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Sophia means Wisdom.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t mean ‘she who abandons’?” Tessa joked bitterly.

“I’m sure,” Robin said, smiling into Tessa’s hair.

“So what’s it mean, my name?”

“It means Reaper. Harvester.”

“Well, that’s awesome,” Tessa said sarcastically.

“You should think about it,” Robin said. “It means something. It’s no coincidence that The Last Scion has this name.”

Tessa was quiet for a long moment. “These destiny conversations with you are always so cheery.”

“You’re destined for great things, Tessa. Your mother knew it, and you should know it too.”

Tessa sat bolt upright and stared at him in the dark. “How is being a Harvester—a Reaper—and the last of something violent and dangerous, a “great thing”?”

“Because you have the opportunity to do great things with it, Tessa. Save lives and set right wrongs.”

Is it really that easy for you? That black and white?” Tessa asked, still frustrated.

Robin sat up. “Yes. It is. I know it makes you uncomfortable, but I believe in my Fiction. I believe in my destiny.”

“I thought you were fighting yours too?” Tessa said, wary.

“In a way, I am,” Robin said, and Tessa noticed they both went out of their way not to say Marian’s name.

“Well, maybe you should make up your damn mind,” Tessa snapped, and then scooted away from him and rolled over. “For someone so sure of their place, you are full of contradictions.”

“Tessa.”

“Leave it,” she said, suddenly insanely tired. “We should sleep. Five a.m. will come fast.” Tessa slid deeper into her sleeping bag, her thoughts clouded and confused. This had all been easier before she realized she was falling in love with him.

Doubt loomed larger in her mind than ever. Not just doubt about being the Scion but doubt about their future. When it was just a crush she didn’t have to worry about where it was going, or if it would end, if he would choose her, if one of them would die.

Love sucked.

She felt cold without him close, a cold that ran much deeper than the physical, a hollow chill that frightened her.

 

In the morning, Fenris was nowhere to be seen.

‘Typical,” Robin muttered.
Tessa ignored him, determined not to get in another fight. “Are we sure this isn’t some elaborate trap?”

Tessa didn’t answer.

“I mean, he has
been trying to get you out here since you first met, right?”

Tessa continued to ignore him and picked up one of the small backpacks. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right, but she felt nervous. Fenris
was
impossible to trust, even with the good he’d done. And he
had
been angling for this since the first time she’d found him in her house—uninvited.

They headed up the path Fenris had marked almost wordlessly. They pushed hard, only talking once when they had to consult Fenris’s
map. Tessa took the lead after that, against Robin’s wishes.

They hiked for over an hour without stopping. Tessa could tell they were close, and she knew Robin could feel it too.

There was magic in the air.

 

 

In the distance, as if it was a mirage, watery and faded, and would disappear if one were to squint too hard, Tessa saw the edges of what must be the lake through the trees. She could just make out the water, but more easily seen was the gauzy mist laying above it.

Tessa could hear Robin behind her, keeping his distance, walking on eggshells ever since their last argument. As if he was trying to both be there and not be there. She didn’t want them to fight, but it was becoming more obvious with every conversation they had that they had some serious disagreements on some pretty fundamental stuff. When it was just a crush, none of that stuff had mattered much, but now? Now she wasn’t so sure. She had even caught herself once wishing he was just a simple high school boy like Nash so she could spend time making out with him and going to the movies, not arguing about the intentions of wolves, the meaning of names, and the philosophies and politics of another dimension. Then again, part of what she loved about him was his passion and belief.

Yeah, she was really confused.

 

BOOK: Storykiller
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