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Tawni hasn’t left his side since the doctor gave her the okay to move in beside him. For two days she’s sat by him, sleeping with her head next to his. She’s holding his hand, rubbing his thumb gently with hers. She’s singing something so softly that I can’t make out the words or the tune.
Yesterday we cremated Trevor. I was trying to be strong for him, like he was till the very end, but when Tristan spoke some of the finest words I’d ever heard about someone, I broke down, my face turning from stolid to a wet mess in a heartbeat. I thought about all he had been through in his life, how happenstance and my mother’s kind heart had brought him into my life, how he had saved me from the barrel of Brody’s gun, how he had saved Tristan. Even after the tears on my face had long dried up, my heart has continued to weep every second. I’ll truly miss him.
Although Tristan and I, like Tawni, wanted to stay by Roc’s side, we had other matters to attend to. Tristan checked in on the status of the ceasefire every fifteen minutes, ensuring it was being carried out with precision and without fail. He also identified a few of the servants that he knew were loyal to Roc and who would most likely be able to keep a secret. Together we worked with them to dispose of the guards’ bodies, dumping them in a giant furnace where no investigation would ever uncover the truth of how they met their sudden and untimely demise. We scrubbed the blood clean from the floors of the throne and council rooms. When we finished it was as if nothing had happened in either place, which was a strange thing to behold. I feel like half my life has been spent in those two rooms. If you base it off the intensity of emotions, I have spent half my life in the Sun Realm.
We left Tristan’s father’s body for last, because we couldn’t burn it. The generals and advisors will want to see a body, will want to hold a ceremony, so we asked a few of the servants to clean him up, dress him in fresh clothes. It sickens me to think he gets special treatment even in death, but it’s an evil required to maintain the ruse that his death was no more than an unfortunate accident.
As I continue to watch Roc’s steady and beautiful breathing, I begin playing with an idea in my head for a few minutes, considering how best to ask Tristan. Perhaps I should just tell him what I want, rather than asking permission. He may be the President now, but I’ve always had a problem with authority.
Tristan
I’m fascinated by the book my father gave me—my mom’s book. It’s like she’s still alive in the pages, in the words, because they’re all new to me. I’m vaguely aware of Adele, Tawni, and Roc as I read each page twice, sometimes pausing to read a single sentence three or four times. The words are precious to me and I want to make them last.
I flip to what is unfortunately the last page, take a deep breath, feel a strange sense of loss, like I’m losing my mother all over again, and then start reading, hearing her voice in my head as I memorize each word:
I made it back from the Moon Realm, Tristan. I did it. Convinced a woman, a Resistance leader to implant her daughter with the matching microchip. She’s not just any girl, son. She’s special, like you, a real fighter. While I talked to her mother we watched her out back with her father, another Resistance leader. He was teaching her to fight, except she didn’t need any teaching. It was as if she’d been fighting for years, which, her mother assured me, she had been. Her name is Adele Rose.
Although it’s a longshot, I hope together you will be a force that even your father would never expect.
Tristan, if you’ve made it this far, then I hope to God that you’ve won, that you’ve found Adele Rose, that together you’ve made a difference for yourselves and for the Tri-Realms. Although I know the actions I took were drastic, radical even, in my heart I know I did the right thing for you and your brother. Take care of Killen. His heart isn’t as pure as yours, and your father gains a greater hold on him each and every day, but I know there’s goodness in him—you just need to show him the way.
I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you more openly and honestly about what I was pla
Stay strong, my son. Do what you can to unite the Tri-Realms and give the people the opportunity to go above, if that’s what they wish. Know that I’m always with you and that I always love you. –Your Mom.
I close the book, wipe a tear from my eye. I can’t read this page a second time. Not yet. There are too many emotions on that page. My brother. I never even had a chance to try to convince him that he was headed down the wrong path. And now he’s dead. I’ve failed my mother with him already.
I’ve already forgiven my mother for the microchip. After all, it led me to Adele, who I love deeply, whether it started by natural attraction or neurological manipulation.
As far as uniting the Tri-Realms and telling the people about the New City, that’s something I will work hard to do, although I know it will be a long, hard road.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Adele watching me. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’d like to go above,” she says.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Adele
The last few days have been a whirlwind of activity and emotions. First I explained to Tristan why it was so important for him and me to go above before telling the rest of the Tri-Realms what was up there. This was going to be major news—unprecedented really—and there would be lots of questions. We needed to know the full story so we’d be in a position to answer as many of those questions as possible. We also needed to get an idea of the political climate: the population of the New City, the interest in taking on additional citizens, the complexity of building more cities. There are so many details we need to think about before we tell the underground dwellers what they’ve potentially been missing out on. Knowing what we know, it’s our duty to be prepared.
Tristan agreed, which was good, because I really didn’t want to have to fight him on it.
The second day Roc woke up. When he did, he was very confused, and kept saying things like, “All my best friends are in heaven?” or “Are you sure I’m not still dreaming?” Even unable to sit up he was able to make us laugh. And he gri
Even in Roc’s bedridden condition, he was still full of his usual Roc-ish wisdom and advice when we told him about our pla
“Thank you, Roc,” I said, “for the advice, and, well, for everything.” I squeezed his hand and blinked away the tears.
His brown eyes were bright with understanding but dry. “Tristan might not be as cool as me, but he’s still my brother. And you’ll always be my adopted sister. And Tawni—you all know how I feel about her. I’d do anything for you guys.” I turned away before my emotions painted my face. After all the death, the violence, and nearly taking his own life, he was still good old Roc, the truest friend in the world.