Nightwalker
Page 33

Viève was leery, but she said, “Oh?” It wasn’t often that people sought out conversation with her. She was a little rusty. She only hoped she didn’t do anything to embarrass her people. If she did and it got back to the Doyen…there was no telling what the punishment might be for something like that.
“I want to discuss Kamen.”
Viève blushed before she could stop herself and her hands flew up to cover her cheeks.
“W-what about him?”
Marissa exchanged a look with Jackson.
“I just want you to be careful. You do not know the kind of man he is. Be certain you learn of him before you decide to trust him.”
Anger instantly overcame her. How dare they talk ill of Kamen? He was bending over backward to put this peace accord together! Didn’t they see that?
But Viève was not able to express her anger like others might. In fact, the emotion felt alien to her. She hadn’t experienced it in such a long time. She had grown so used to simply accepting things, then moving on to quietly live her life. When she grew frustrated, her only outlet was her gardening. Since there was nothing she could do about such emotions, she would simply weed or plant flowers until the feelings passed. It was hard not to find peace when working in the garden.
“Is there something you are trying to tell me?” she asked directly. Perhaps if they explained why they felt the way they did…
“Only that our experiences with Kamen throughout the ages have not been…in accord. Kamen is a Templar; we are Politic. The two have been enemies for quite a long while.”
“But you work with him now?”
“Yes. On the surface it appears that Kamen’s motives have changed. Whether it is actually true is something we are still waiting to discover.”
“How long has he been here with you?”
“The better part of a year,” Jackson said.
And still this wasn’t enough for them to realize he was on their side now? What more did the man have to do? Perhaps that was why he was working so hard to obtain this peace. To prove to these people that his loyalties had changed.
“Do you have reason to believe he is insincere?” she asked.
“Only our experiences with him thus far. Kamen has sided against the body Politic quite resoundingly. He is deeply rooted in Templar ways. Do you remember the Gargoyles you met?”
She nodded.
“Ahnvil was forged by Kamen to be his slave.”
This shocked her. Was this the thing he had been dreading her discovery of? Was this why he thought himself to be a bad man…a villain? Because he had created and owned slaves? But surely that had been some time ago!
“So he was his slave up until a year ago?” she asked with dread and confusion.
“No. Ahnvil obtained his freedom several hundred years ago. But for all we know there were others up until the moment he defected to our side,” Marissa said.
“Why did he defect to your side?” she thought to ask.
“Ah. I think that is something you need to ask him,” Marissa said.
She would. She would ask him as soon as he returned.
“Now enough talk of dreadful things,” Marissa said. “Let’s talk more about you.”
“Me! There’s nothing interesting about me,” she demurred instantly.
“Surely you’re mistaken. Tell us, what is it you do in the Wraith world?”
“I don’t do anything. I’m really quite useless. I try to make myself useful, but I don’t often succeed.”
“In what ways do you make yourself useful?”
“I garden,” she said. “But it’s a trivial thing really. Anyone could do it.”
“Gardening! I love to garden. Although gardening here in the Southwest is a very different affair than what I was used to in New York.”
“New York! I always wanted to go to New York,” Viève said wistfully.
“Where are you from?”
“Iowa. My cell is in Iowa.”
“Is that where the Doyen is?” Marissa asked.
“Oh! No! The Doyen would never be part of such a small cell out in the middle of nowhere. Although, he does live in the middle of nowhere but not around the likes of me.”
“The likes of you?”
“Like I said, I’m a half-breed,” she said.
It made perfect sense to her, Marissa realized. Being a half-breed somehow made her less than her brethren. But from what she could see, Viève was more than any Wraith Hatshepsut, her Bodywalker soul, had ever seen. Over the generations Hatshepsut had had more than one encounter with the Wraiths, none of them good. In fact, one of Menes’s deaths had been due to a Wraith deathtouch. But that had been many years ago. She was giving Jackson a lot of credit though. She knew he was uncomfortable being around the Wraith because of that fact, but he was being as open as he could be when dealing with her. He had to be. They all had to be. Including the Wraiths. Things were only going to get worse from here on out. They had to get along or the consequences would be dire.
If only they could break the curse. She knew Kamen and the Druid Bella were working day and night to find a solution, but Marissa feared it wouldn’t be enough. She feared having to relive moments like the one she had just relived in her memory. She feared that this time…this time she would lose Menes for good. Not just for another hundred years, but for good. Who knew what power this god had? What if he had the power to obliterate souls entirely? How would she ever go on without Menes?
And Jackson would not be able to reincarnate. That part of him would be lost to the afterlife for good, his soul moving on, away from hers. Marissa loved Jackson. The separate soul that was Jackson and the separate soul that was Menes. She loved them both. She couldn’t imagine having to live without either one of them.
Marissa wanted to go to Jackson, who was following behind them as they walked out into the hall, but she had to focus on the little Wraith.
“Well, just so you know, there are a lot of half-breeds here, and they all fit right in. So you should do fine here. I guess in a way, Jackson and I are half-breeds too. Two different halves coming together to make a whole.”
“I never thought about it like that.”
“You should. There is not really anyone on this planet who is a pure blood. I’m sure if we look far enough into everyone’s past there’s a little bit of something somewhere that dilutes the blood.”