Chapter Twelve

They sat in silence. Esme leaned back in her chair, gazing out of the wide picture window across the room. After driving through the slums to get to the Center, the view was a surprise: tall metallic spires reaching seamlessly upwards, their pointed tips stabbing a misty sunset. His awe must have been written clearly across his face because a quiet whisper slid into his mind a moment later.

“It isn’t real.” Doavin turned toward Esme, eyes widened, but she just shook her head. “We’re still in the Lows. This is just more relaxing than the alternative," She smiled faintly at the disappointed set of his mouth, briefly reaching out to pat his knee. “There are places like that. Maybe one day we will take you above level so you can see them.”

Doavin wasn’t sure he understood what she meant but he nodded anyway, eyes dropping briefly before lifting to her face when she spoke next.

“Do you have questions for me, Doavin? I have a few for you, but they can wait for another time.”

He hesitated, watching as she waited for him, her expression serene. He had too many questions, so many that he wasn't sure which to ask first, some of them hovering, incompletely formed, around his mind like a cloud. But he could also sense Aeneat's eyes on him, and he shrunk back in his seat, eyes downcast.

Esme seemed to sense the hostility emanating from her comrade because she lifted her head, targetting him with a smile. "Aeneat my love. Will you please go downstairs to make sure our friend knows to wait for Doavin here?"

For a moment, Aeneat almost seemed ready to refuse. Then he turned away, scowling at the door before it swung shut behind him. Esme watched Aeneat leave before turning back to Doavin, clearly waiting for a question. Doavin was surprised to hear himself speak a moment or so later. “Why do you attack other elves?”

Esme’s eyebrows arched and she shook her head. “You go straight to the heart of it, don’t you?” she paused, fishing through the candy bowl that rested on the table by her knees. “I can’t answer that properly during the time we have here, but anyone at the base with you can help you understand. They’ll all have different reasons, but it will all amount to the same thing. Too many years of inequality. Too much pain here in the Lows. Too much abuse. Too much injustice. I’ve been alive for a long time, Doavin. More than long enough to know it is only getting more blatant, and more insufferable.”

She fell silent briefly, narrow fingers unwrapping her candy. The soft tinkle of foil provided a soundtrack for her voice when she spoke again. “But despite how we look, Aeneat and I have no claim on anything of theirs. We aren’t kin, and we wouldn’t want to be if this is what we’d inherit. Please remember that.”

Doavin mused over her words, watching as the small cherry candy finally emerged from its wrapper. “Is that why you hate them so much?”

“We don’t hate them, Doavin,” her voice was gentle. “We only hate the things they stand for.”

He blinked, surprised to hear something so similar to what Aeneat had said to him the night before. “Is there really a difference?”

“You’ll find out about that soon enough,” Esme carefully placed the candy on her tongue and continued, lips quirking when he sighed. “We have someone leaving for a low risk mission someplace nearby. Would you like to tag along with her? It would be good for you to meet more of my compatriots, especially if you decide you’d like to stay with us. For now, at least.”

Doavin frowned—he didn’t know enough to fathom going anywhere else. Yet at the same time, something seemed off. Esme was too willing to involve him, the complete opposite of Aeneat who seemed all too ready to bring him back to where Anai had found him. The strange contrast rang alarms in his head. “Why do you trust me?”

To his surprise, she laughed. “We’ll just say I’m an excellent judge of character. And I have a feeling about you.” He opened his mouth to question her further, but she interrupted. “You should go. Aeneat will be waiting for you outside, and someone will be by to take you back to the base or along with her, whichever you decide you'd like to do.” She clasped his hand in both of her own, squeezing it before letting it go. “Be safe, Doavin. May all be well for you.”

The sudden dismissal surprised him, but he stood obediently, ducking his head before turning to leave the room. Esme seemed nice, but she was letting him into something that was so secretive without asking him anything at all. It didn't feel right, and it left him with the suspicion that he was little more than a helpless pawn in someone else’s strategy. The realization that he didn’t know what else he could do made him grit his teeth as he went downstairs.

Aeneat was indeed waiting for him outside, collar raised against the sharp wind that rushed along the tunnel. Doavin stared at him, but Aeneat didn’t react, crossing his arms over his chest and resting the back of his head against the wall behind him. They stood in silence several feet away from each other, Doavin continuing to watch Aeneat while Aeneat stared at the road as though he could pull Doavin’s ride into existence by the force of his gaze alone.

Eventually, it was Doavin who broke the silence, curiosity forcing the words from between his lips. “Why does she come here?”

For a long moment it seemed as though Aeneat would refuse to answer him, instead shooting him a brief look before turning back to face the driveway. “To visit her brother.”

“Oh,” Doavin breathed. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s dead,” Aeneat’s voice was bland, blunt. Then he was silent, leaning near motionless against the wall until a sleek low-set hover pulled up to the curb almost five minutes later. “There’s your ride,” he said and turned to leave, the automated doors swallowing him with a soft hiss of pressurized air.

Doavin hesitated before moving forward, approaching the hover as though it might pounce on him. When he got close enough, he bent at the waist to peer at the driver. The tinted window rolled down obligingly, and he blinked, eyes widening at what it revealed.

She was some sort of elf, at least partially, ears smaller than Esme’s but long enough to poke their pointed tips out from between strands of hair that were an obviously artificial lime color. Tiny blue studs glimmered from various places in her face—under her lip, in one nostril, over her left eye. She lacked the large scar that stretched out across Anai’s cheek, but Doavin was struck by the family resemblance immediately. Anai hadn’t mentioned having a sister, much less a twin, and yet here the twin was, leaning over the passenger seat to open the door for him.

“Hey you,” she said, words thick. “Name’s Sevani. Call me Sev. Boss said you’re a new join up?”

Doavin wasn’t sure if that was what had happened upstairs but he nodded, wondering how Esme could have spoken to Sev so quickly. Sitting down, he was surprised to realize this hover made Anai’s look extraordinarily old fashioned. The black interior housed a surprising number of buttons, several flashing lights, and a view screen that blinked their location on a large city map. He couldn’t help but wonder at the inequality between the two crafts, especially when he considered the fact that they belonged to siblings working in the same organization.

“Nice, huh? You’d better fasten that safety strap,” Sev warned as she peeled away from the curb, hover vibrating when she tapped the gas pedal and sped down the tunnel. Doavin braced himself for a sudden influx of redness but none came, the road continuing uninterrupted as though the instance didn’t exist at all. He watched Sevani reach down, grabbing a brown-papered cigarette and sticking it between her lips. She lit it with a soft click of her lighter and a sweetly herbal scent filled the car and lingered as the smoke was sucked out the window.

“So,” she said from around her cigarette, “What the hell did you do to Aeneat?”

He started, turning back look at her once more. Her face was unreadable. He shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

“Ah, Boss said you’re a quiet one too. That’ll be good on the mission, but it’s shit for conversation on the way there,” she briefly slid her eyes in his direction before returning them to the road. “I mean don’t look so glum or anything. Not like I’m going to kick you to the curb. It’s just that—well, if you have to apologize then you’d better hop to it. He might not look it, but he’s seriously not someone you want to make an enemy of if you know what I mean.”

Doavin lowered his head, speaking down into his lap. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” she asked.

“Apologize.”

“Ah well,” she sighed, flicking her ashes out the window. “Suit yourself. Just remember I warned you when you get into some shit you don’t want to handle.”

The tunnel opened up, leaving them driving through the open air. They sped down the highway in silence.

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