I can get close enough to my father, I can turn him.”
“But we don’t have it, it doesn’t work.”
“You must,” he said, his eyes rounding. “Nigel told the king you had a working cure.”
I smiled. “We were lying. It saved our lives, but that’s it. We couldn’t make it work. That’s why—” I broke off. I wasn’t ready to tell him the rest yet.
He pursed his lips, his eyes thoughtful, shrewd. He thought I was lying to him. What wasn’t he telling me?
“Nigel came back ranting, almost delirious. Said you’d attacked him, and given him an antidote. Bryce confirmed it. Thomas was already dead. They didn’t believe it at first, but I could tell they were scared.”
“But it was just a bluff,” I said.
“The thing is,” Damien said slowly, “his wounds aren’t healing. The elixir in his blood has been compromised. He’s blind in one eye. He’s spent the last week drinking gallons of blood and even shooting straight elixir into his veins, then cutting himself to see how fast he will heal. My father has taken a particular interest in his gory experiments.”
“But that’s, impossible.”
“Whatever you have, it may not cure the elite completely, it may not turn them human again, but it definitely makes them vulnerable, at least for awhile.”
“So there’s still a chance…”
“If I can inject my father, it may weaken him. I don’t know if it’ll limit his compulsion. And we won’t have much time, but we have to try.”
“And then what?” I asked. “You and me on the throne, where we’ll continue ruling the citadel? Making sure the compounds make their blood deposits to feed the remaining elite?”
“At least it’ll be by choice. For real this time, I mean it.”
“What if that’s not enough? What if the revolution succeeds; what if all the humans want to leave? Will you force them to stay?”
“Some may choose to remain, under our protection.”
“But what if there were no compounds, no chosen. Just elite. How will they eat? What will you do when you’re hungry?” I gasped, suddenly picturing us all alone, spending decades together in the deserted, walled-off city. I would be his main food source.
“It won’t come to that,” Damien frowned. “The compounds offer safety, the purification engines are necessary to grow food, to garden, to have any kind of peace and security. Those are benefits we can still provide.”
I searched his eyes for answers, but found none. Did Damien know about the ash factory? What would happen if I asked him, or told him? Would he try to stop me?
“I thought this is what you wanted,” he grumbled. “I’m doing this for you.”
I frowned at him. That wasn’t the right reason, at all. He was giving up his father’s hundred-year social experiment, turning on his own kind, for what, for love? This decision was too big to be made like that.
He was thinking of me, and him. He wasn’t thinking of the thousands of subjects in the compounds, or the humans living in the wild. He was ready to burn it all down because he was angry at his father.
“I don’t have all the answers Em, we’ll figure it out as we go. But we’ll be together. That is, if you still want that. I came here to tell you that I’m with you. I won’t tell you what you should do. But whatever it is, I trust that it’s right. No matter what, or who, you choose.”
His expression was tragic and tortured, despite his smooth skin and young face. It made this eyes look haunted, like icy pools of teal water. First my grandfather, and now me.
After swearing humans off so he wouldn’t be hurt again, now he was risking it all again, risking more pain, for me. It made my heart ache. He kept falling for us, even when it cost him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. Instead I leaned away.
Did he know that the ash was fake?
I wanted to ask him. But if I asked him and the answer was yes, I’d never be able to forgive him. And he could tell his father, or try to stop me.
It wasn’t until that moment that I knew what I was going to do. I just didn’t know how. From the pain in my chest, I knew two things for sure; I was in love with Damien, and I had to betray him.
Finally I understood how King Richard must have felt. Some decisions don’t get to be processed