“I’m fine,” he says. “A bit nauseous. Agni used charms to make me pass out. And my head hurts, of course, but that will pass.”
“Is there anything I can get for you?” she asks.
“Do you have any gin?”
She clicks her tongue. “Afraid not.”
“But there’s something that still doesn’t make sense to me,” Nicoleta says. “If each of us are tied to some...person, why not simply kill us anywhere? Why bring us all the way north, into the middle of a war? Villiam could’ve carried out his plans in the Down-Mountains, anywhere.”
“Because Sorina is a charm-worker, obviously,” Luca says. We wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t, as if that explanation is sufficient.
“I’m still not sure I understand you,” Nicoleta says with a hint of annoyance.
“Charms only work in close proximity. I had protective charms, but they only worked if I wore them. If one of you—us—are killed, it doesn’t mean anything unless we’re close enough to the person to whom we’re tied.”
You. Us.I’m reminded once more that Luca is one of the illusions, another person I made up. Which means that everything he remembers about his life before Gomorrah is a lie. He never had a life before Gomorrah.
I squeeze his hand. He doesn’t squeeze back.
“So are we going to leave now?” Hawk asks. “Gomorrah will go back south?”
“Who’s going to be proprietor now?” Unu asks.
“Luca could do it,” Du says. “Luca’s a genius, aren’t you, Luca?”
I am almost hurt that Du didn’t say anything about me.Iwas Villiam’s protégée. I’ve been training to become the proprietor for a long time, but no one had expected it to happen so soon.
But I cannot imagine myself succeeding Villiam. Not after everything he’s done. I don’t want anything to do with him or the Gomorrah family.
I wouldn’t make a good proprietor, anyway.
The corner of Luca’s lips twitch into a smile. “As if Gomorrah would want an Up-Mountainer to be their proprietor.”
“Then what about Nicoleta?” Hawk says. She tugs on Nicoleta’s sleeve. Though Nicoleta also resembles Luca’s people, she is hardly the only one in Gomorrah to do so, and she is from the Festival. People know her. People respect her. “You could be the proprietor. You’d keep everything very...organized.”
She laughs. “I could hardly—”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I say. “I think that’s perfect.”
Nicoleta watches me with apprehension, and I can almost see the questions floating around in her mind. Would Gomorrah take to a proprietor who isn’t a real person? But then a determined glint shines in her eyes, and she smiles.
* * *
I sit at Villiam’s table, holding an insect vial that Villiam must’ve intended to give me. It’s an oyster spider—not technically an insect but interesting nonetheless. Its eggs look like pearls, and it buries them in the sand near areas of salt water. I’m alone inside the caravan, debating about whether to keep the exotic gift from such a hateful man.
Outside, Gomorrah is burying Villiam’s body. Rumor has it that an Up-Mountain official murdered him.
They want war.
I shouldn’t feel guilty for missing my father’s funeral after what he did, yet there’s a part of me that does. But I can’t bear to go. I’ve attended three funerals in the past five weeks because of him. I will not attend his. I won’t stand there as Gomorrah buries him like a hero.
People will talk about the proprietor’s daughter not showing up. Let them. Nicoleta will become proprietor and soon, they’ll forget about me. They never wanted a freak as a proprietor anyway.
Worse than that is the guilty feeling that everything that has happened is my fault. Even if Villiam orchestrated all of this, I was willingly ignorant. Had I only asked questions, had I only taken a moment to think, none of this might have happened.
Someone knocks on the door.
I open it, and it’s Luca, dressed in a fresh set of clothes without any stains of blood or dirt. He peers up at me through the rain. His blond hair is soaked and dripping down his neck. “May I come in?”
