Relapse (Breakers Book 7) Page 30

  "Assume that they are not all executed. How can they coexist with those they wronged?"

  "You know, this isn't really my forte. You want to know how to assassinate somebody without getting a drop of blood on your hands? I'm your boy. But for this one, we're going to need to go to Mia."

  They did so. Mia listened to Raina's dilemma, a neutral expression steady on her face.

  As soon as Raina finished, Mia said, "The solution is very simple. You offer the knights redemption."

  "Redemption?" Raina said.

  "Those who are worth it will want it more than anything. For the chance to wash away their sins, to soothe the pain in their hearts, they'll fight for you harder than they ever did for Dashing. Here's the question—do they deserve it?"

  Mauser rubbed his hands together. "Ah, deciding how to mete out justice in a festival of massacres. This is going to be wonderful."

  "You have been with me since nearly the beginning," Raina said. "And I still don't understand how you can take such delight in the vileness of the human race."

  "It's going to go on being vile no matter how I feel about it, isn't it? So why not have a laugh?"

  "We're going to need weapons," Raina said. "Guns."

  "Henna and Bryson should have no problem with that." Mauser smirked. "They figured out where the weapons were stashed the first day we rolled in."

  Raina did not bother to speak to Cinder again. The new queen had made it clear that anguish would remain the currency of the realm. She hadn't even considered Raina's suggestion to free the lesser "offenders." Even so, if Raina pushed hard, it was feasible she could wring some concessions from the new queen.

  But the point wasn't to reduce the wrongness in San Diego. It was to eliminate it. If Raina assisted in its continued existence, even in a lesser form, then she would share fault for that evil. And when she returned to Catalina, she would bring the taint of it with her.

  She went to speak to Georgia. The young woman was out, so Raina left a note. An hour later, a servant returned with a reply from Georgia. The note said she had no wish to speak to Raina.

  Raina dropped this on the floor, headed straight to Georgia's room, and opened the door without knocking. Georgia sat at her desk copying a document. Seeing Raina, she stood with a scrape of her chair, scowling.

  "I told you to stay away."

  "You are angry," Raina said. "And you should be."

  Georgia advanced a step. "You betrayed me. You betrayed all of us. We thought you would take the throne—and set us free. Cinder's no different than those she's replaced."

  "I know that now. I was so consumed with building an alliance to retake San Pedro that I didn't care what it would cost Better San Diego. I was wrong. I am sorry. But I am here to correct every mistake I've made."

  The women's lips parted. "You're taking over yourself."

  "No," Raina said. "You are."

  "You can't possibly be serious."

  "Look what you did after I put the knife to Sir Thomas. You are bold. You have inspiration from within. You command the respect of your peers. You can lead them out of this darkness."

  Georgia nodded, wanting to believe. Then her eyes and mouth contracted in suspicion. "This is just more manipulation. You want to use me to go after your enemies in Los Angeles."

  "This is about San Diego, not L.A. You will owe me nothing."

  "Bullshit!"

  Raina flung her hands wide. "Cinder is willing to go to war for me right now. If that were all that mattered to me, why would I risk losing it by opposing her?"

  Georgia lowered herself to her chair. "Let's assume this is possible. What will you do?"

  "Free everyone here. Let them choose to stay or go as they wish."

  "What about the knights?"

  "Let justice be done to them as you wish."

  "A handful of them are violent sociopaths. They're here because hurting people is part of the job. They deserve to be killed."

  "And the others?" Raina said.

  She shook her head vaguely. "Some of them are fine. They have normal wives and girlfriends and haven't so much as touched the women upstairs. I'd be happy for them to stay. But others… they may not be mean, or cruel. Some of them, I don't think they even understand what they're doing. They're simply taking what is given to them. Everything about it is legal. But no matter what the law says, what's been given to them isn't theirs to have, is it? And the world's most considerate rapist is still a rapist. Does that mean they deserve to die?"

  "I cannot say."

  "You ran your own kingdom. You have to have a better idea what to do with them than I do."

  "I don't think so." Raina sat on the bed. "They're not my people. I don't know their hearts. You know them much better than I do."

  Georgia laughed with hot scorn. "What a copout! We're talking about thirty or forty people here. I'm not going to imprison them for life. That would be insane—we need all our resources for our citizens, not to care for people we don't believe should live among us. Either they're dead or they're free. One choice is too much and the other is too little."

  "When a dog is raised badly, trained to hurt people and other dogs, do they deserve to be put down?"

  "Oh my God. We're not talking about dogs. We're talking about people. Their choices were their own."

  "Some dogs are beyond help," Raina said. "But others don't want to be as they are. If they're treated well, they will become the most loyal of the pack. Gentle, too—until it is time to defend their friends."

  "I need more than this!" Georgia clenched her hands into fists. Tears squeezed from her eyes. "What about the women? Don't they deserve justice, too? How can I free the men who made their lives a quiet hell?"

  "You can't. You should kill the knights. All of them."

  "What? Ten seconds ago, you were talking about rehabilitating them like fighting dogs! Besides, if they're gone, we're barely going to be able to defend ourselves, let alone help you attack Anson."

  "That doesn't matter," Raina said. "All that matters is that you do whatever it takes to mend your people. I can't say what that will take. I spoke of dogs because I think that course could also be a just one. But if you are asking me what I would do? I would kill the offenders. Every last one."

  Georgia wiped the tears from her face. "That's like forty people, Raina. It would be a slaughter."

  "This world is not the one you grew up in. It is not kind. There are no police or courts to deal with those who would seek to make it worse. We have nothing to save us but our own judgment—and our own strength."

  Georgia closed her eyes. Her whole body shuddered. "I can't decide this myself. I'll have to talk to the others."

  "That seems wise." Raina folded her hands. "Two nights from now, Cinder is throwing herself a feast. The knights will be too drunk to stand. That is when we should make our move."

  "Two days." Georgia lifted her head and opened her eyes. "That's when we begin anew, isn't it? Whatever we decide, that will be our new nation's defining act. It will set the tone for everything that comes after."

  "It is much to bear." Raina reached for her hand. "But it is also the chance to make this nation into the place it should always have been."

  * * *

  One day passed. Georgia spent much of it stealing away to confer with the servants and the women upstairs. Raina let Mauser and the others know to be ready, but otherwise kept to herself.

  The day of the feast arrived. Within minutes of dawn, the servants entered a frenzy of activity, cleaning the entire palace, preparing the hall and back yard for the meal, and readying the food. The building thickened with the smell of fresh bread and oven-cooked turkey.

  Raina didn't see Cinder until the ringing of a bell summoned the knights and lords to dinner. The new queen sat at the head of the table, her dark hair plaited into slender, elegant braids, her cheeks painted like a brand new doll.

  "Night has fallen on our king," she said. The dining hall waited in perfect silence, the faces o
f the nobles lit by candles specking the table. "And on the woman who many of us wished would succeed him. The specter of war looms with the People of the Stars. Sometimes, it feels like night has fallen on Better San Diego."

  She bowed her head, then looked up and stood. She swept a crystal champagne flute from the table and lifted it into the air. "But I feel more hope than ever before. Because I am Queen Cinder—and I will burn as bright as the sun."

  The nobles and knights heaped praise after praise upon her. Its volume was matched by the quantity of platters and drinks brought forth by the servants. The party stretched for hours. By the end, several of the knights had to be dragged away to their rooms. The palace grew silent. Raina waited in bed, enfolded in the darkness.

  And then Georgia's shout pierced through the night.

  Raina dashed outside, swords in hand. Georgia had assembled a mixed force: those few knights who were honorable, and known to support the cause of freedom; servants and doves; farmers and laborers collected from the shacks out in the fields; and Raina's own warriors.

  Together, this makeshift army dragged the knights and aristocrats from their beds. At first their captives protested, but the rebels displayed guns and blades, silencing them.

  Two of Georgia's knights marched Cinder from the royal chambers. The powder on her cheeks was smudged, her fine braids squashed by sleep.

  Seeing Raina, her eyes lit up. "You! And have you betrayed me, too? Come to kill me like you did with Dashing?"

  "Do you want to die?" Georgia said. "Then shut up and walk."

  She nodded to her army. They filed the captives out the door and led them down the path to the gates.

  Mauser drifted beside Raina. "Are we about to witness a bloodstorm? Should I fetch my raincoat?"

  "I have no idea," Raina said. "If Georgia's made her decision, she hasn't told it to me."

  Torches flapped in the hands of the rebels. They exited the gates and swung west down a dirt path. The prisoners had been gagged and walked in silence through the damp, chilly night. In time, surf boomed from ahead. They crossed a neighborhood of stately manors, then came to the cliffs standing a hundred feet above the sea.

  Georgia stood with her back to the edge, hair ruffled by the unsteady wind. "Under the rule of kings and queens, Better San Diego became a lie. A poisoned garden watered by the sweat and blood of the powerless. Tonight, a new era begins—but first, we have to tear out the poisoned plants by the roots.

  "You put men and women into slavery. Supposedly, this was to punish them for their crimes, but the crimes you committed against them were far worse. There are some among us who think every single one of you should be executed."

  The captives glanced among themselves. Georgia stared them down. "But that would make us as bad as you, punishing people out of all proportion to their crimes. Some of you are far worse than others, and deserve a far worse fate. Besides, I don't want to start this new era with a slaughter. I want to start it from a place of hope. If people as stupid and thuggish as you can be spared—if these people you've wronged have the strength to allow you to search for redemption—then we may become as great as we allow ourselves to be.

  "But you cannot be allowed to stay here, either. You will be banished. Tonight. You will have the following day to leave our territory. After that, if you are ever seen here again, you will be killed on the spot."

  She withdrew a curled sheet of paper from the pocket of her jacket and read off a list of names, including a dozen knights and almost all of the nobility. The last name on the list was Cinder's.

  "If you have anything to say," Georgia said, "do so now. After tonight, you will never see us again."

  A servant loosened the gag from Cinder's mouth. The woman glared at Raina. "Great job! You killed Dashing, maneuvered Winslowe out of the way, and now you're tossing me out on my ear."

  "You had your chance to tear down Dashing's crooked web," Raina said. "You refused. Because doing so would threaten your sway over the knights you corrupt with vices."

  "You fucking idiot. After all you've done, and all the enemies you've made, how long do you think it'll be before someone puts a bullet in your heart and takes the crown from you?"

  "They may kill me, but it won't earn them any crown." Raina drew her longer sword, its blade glinting in the light of the fires. She kneeled before Georgia and bowed her head. "She will be the one to usher this realm into its next age."

  Raina held out her sword to Georgia hilt-first, the steel flat against her palms. Carefully, Georgia took the sword from Raina's hand, then turned to Cinder.

  "Enough out of you. You can do your whining in exile. Does anyone else want to speak?" Georgia swept her eyes across the prisoners. "No? Then be banished from—"

  "Wait." A knight with a bald spot raised his hand. "I don't understand."

  She turned to him. "What don't you understand, Howard? Do you think you're a good man? Do you think you deserve to escape punishment? Because I think I'm being far more merciful than most of you deserve."

  "I never hurt anyone, did I?"

  "Don't you understand? You hurt someone every day."

  His eyes seemed to sink into themselves. "I was just doing what the king wanted us to."

  Georgia's jaw tightened. "Howard, look behind you. Look at all the people you've wronged. Do you really think they want to hear your excuse?"

  "I'm sorry. It's just…" He shook his head, face contorting. "I get it, okay? Throw me out. I deserve worse—and you deserve better. But you're keeping people who made me look like a choir boy. You have to get rid of them. It's your only hope. For Christ's sake, Heaverlo used to beat girls!"

  "Do you think I don't know that?"

  "Well, this is about setting wrongs to right, isn't it? So how come a son of a bitch like that gets to stay and I have to go?"

  Georgia tipped back her head. "Who says he gets to stay?"

  She lifted the sword, then pointed it out to sea. Pairs of her warriors moved to either side of nine bound knights. They grabbed the ropes knotting the men's hands and pushed them forward. Before the prisoners knew what was happening, three fell over the cliff's edge, toppling into the darkness.

  A man screamed into his gag and wrestled away from his guards. Raina drew her tanto and charged him. One of the men who'd borne him toward the cliff stuck out his foot. The fleeing knight tripped; with his hands bound behind him, he landed hard on his shoulder. A woman bent over him, cocked her elbow, and struck him in the face three times. The knight ducked his chin, wriggling forward. The woman picked up a rock as big as her fist and dashed it against the back of his head.

  A flat crack cut across the night. The man's head lolled to the side. She raised the rock and brought it down again. Bone crunched. The knight's back arched, his right elbow twitching. She hit him twice more and he stopped moving.

  A cold wind hissed in from the sea. Everyone had stopped to watch, eyes bright in the flapping torchlight. The moment felt like those at dusk, when the land teetered between gold and silver, seemingly capable of becoming either.

  Then, as inevitable as the fall of night, Georgia's people grabbed the remaining five men and flung them over the side of the cliff.

  "Howard," Georgia said, voice raw. "Do you wish to stay?"

  He turned his gaze away from the vacant cliff. "I can't ask for that."

  "Answer the question!"

  "Yes," he said. "If you'll have me."

  "There will be no third chance. If you mistreat anyone here—if you so much as insult them—I will cut you down."

  "As it should be."

  Georgia walked toward him, sword in hand. "You will protect our people. Faithfully. Ceaselessly. I can't offer you forgiveness. Only the chance to lessen the stain."

  Hearing this, his expression cracked, spilling tears down his face. Unable to speak, he nodded.

  "No," she said. "You must have the courage to speak. Swear that you will give your life to these people."

  "I—" His voice caught.
"I swear it!"

  "Kneel," she said. He lowered himself. "Hold out your right hand."

  Howard extended his hand. Georgia put her sword to it and drew its edge across his palm, tracing a line in blood. He winced, closed his hand, forced himself to reopen it.

  Georgia wiped the blade on the leg of her pants. "Over time, the wound will heal. When it does, it will leave a scar. If you ever feel the weakness that made you what you were, I want you to look at it and remember."

  In this way, she marked all the knights who were allowed to stay, moving quickly from man to man. They clenched their bleeding hands, holding them to their hearts.

  Finished, Georgia turned on the exiles. "You might be tempted to come back in force. To try to retake this place. If you do, I will make you wish you'd been thrown off the cliffs with the others."

  The knights and courtiers stared numbly. They had no supplies—some hadn't even been allowed to take shoes—and they waited, uncertain. Then one man turned his back and walked away. The others trickled after him in ones and twos.

  Cinder lingered, staring at Raina. "I can't believe I didn't see this coming. Your own people kick you out, and I welcome you with open arms? What kind of moron am I?"

  "You may have lost San Diego," Raina said. "But this has given you the keys to understand how to build something lasting."

  "Fuck you and your high horse. You can tell yourself you did this for 'the people,' but the truth is you're nothing but a manipulative liar."

  Cinder hunched her coat around her shoulders. She turned away and walked into the darkness. There was a softness to the air that promised light would come soon.

  Georgia watched her go, then nodded to the road. Her people walked back with her toward the palace. The knights whose hands had been cut were mingled with the others, but they kept their eyes downcast, the posture of those who saw themselves clearly for the first time. Perhaps they imagined their own bodies soaring off the cliffs to smash against the rocks.

  Over the next few days at the palace, whenever one of the Scarred-Handed Knights was given an order or so much as entered a room, tension came with him, stealing over those present like ice on a January pond. Yet each time, the man did as he was told without the faintest flicker of anger or resentment.