“The spoils of war,” Terrence said prosaically. “Arrive at your point, Theodore.”
Theo did not dare drop his gaze. He wanted to see his father fully when he exposed himself. “If there is terranium to be found in Idia’s Seam, it ought to be distributed to the people of Belavere who need it most. I want the original agreement you made with the Colsons upheld. I want you to call a ceasefire. I want Nina Harrow and Polly acquitted of their crimes. Put it in writing, Father. Release it to the print press, and I’ll be the good son upholding our celebrated family name.”
Terrence was unresponsive for a moment, and then he laughed. It was dry and painful-sounding, as though the muscles in his throat were unfamiliar with the movement. “So, you are a true convert now, Theodore,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “An ambassador for the toiling Crafters of Belavere.”
Theodore didn’t answer. He watched the veneer of his father slide back and reveal the callous shell of someone who’d shed themselves of humanity and its limitations.
“You place too much value on yourself, Theodore. There are only two paths ahead. The path of forgiveness, ofsanity. Or you can continue to be an embarrassment to the name I gave you, and I could strip it from you.”
Theo felt the ringing in his ears become a scream. “And even if it saved Artisan tradition, you wouldn’t choose this, would you? You’d never sacrifice your precious fucking terranium for the Crafters, even if it meant an end to this war.”
Lord Shop clicked his tongue. “You finally hit one squarely, son. The problem with giving a dog a bone, is that the dog then grows territorial. It snaps and barks at anyone who comes close. It’s best to take it away before they grow familiar with the taste.” He took a sip of tea from his cup and sat back in his seat.
“You know, even if I translate that book for you, you’ll be no closer to finding Idia’s Seam,” Polly’s voice shook, and she looked moments from collapse. Lord knew how she remained conscious with the pain of her hands. “All you’ll have is the truth about how your ancestors murdered women for their own gain.”
“Don’t be so righteous, Miss Prescott. You, of all people, are familiar with sacrifice.”
To her credit, she didn’t cow this time. Didn’t sink back into herself. “You havenothingwithout the Seam!”
“That’s true,” the lord allowed. “Though, the same can be said for your friends.”
“Then you’re not as smart as you believe yourself,” Polly said, spittle collecting at the corners of her mouth, a sort of delirium taking over. “You should have bled me dry rather than simply burned me,my lord.”
Lord Shop watched her over the top of his glasses. “Why?” he inquired. “To stop you from scribbling the translations to your rebel friends?”
Polly laughed in a way that suggested her mind was failing her. Herblinks lengthened. Words ran together. “Yes,” she said. “And they’ll find the Seam, long before you can. By now, they’ll have already figured it out. They’ll be on their way.”
Theo watched with increasing dread as his father simply crossed one leg over the other, sipped at the rim of his cup, and watched Polly as though she were a curious insect he would soon squash. “Oh, but I’m counting on it,” he said. “Officers?”
His call summoned three of them. They slid the compartment door aside and did not hesitate in their remit. Within a matter of moments, Polly’s arm was pulled forth. A pocketknife was produced. The piercing sounds of Polly’s screams rent the hollows of the train.
When the officers retreated, Polly’s hand was clutched over her mottled forearm, blood seeping through her fingers and into her skirt. She slipped from her seat and onto the floor, Theo just barely catching her around her shoulders before she toppled forward, unconscious.
Theo clutched his own hands over the gaping wound, hot, viscous blood collecting in the beds of his nails, dripping off the tips of his fingers.
He turned his face toward his father with unveiled fury. And his father still looked to Polly as though she were a rat.
The rat in the walls soon runs out of bait to eat. It grows frantic, it eats its young, its own foot. Soon, the rat dies. It does the work for you.
“You don’t intend to mine Idia’s Seam yourself, do you?” Theo panted, feeling an acute sense of horror settle over him.
“Of course not,” his father said from his place above, looming over him. “What outfit of miners would you have me use? In case you’ve missed the news, they’re all currently on strike. The only person on this continent who has a hope of uncovering Idia’s Seam is currently scampering across the countryside to do it for me.
“As I told you, son, rats are difficult to trap. It’s far better to let them run free—or at least offer theillusionof freedom.”
Theo felt bile rise up into his throat.
The train took a corner onto the bridge, the tea-colored marsh waterbelow it stretching in all directions. The carriage swayed and sent Theo’s stomach careening. A reckoning lashed at him. An irreversible choice rearing up.
His father replaced his cup to its saucer, then smoothed his fingers over his cane while Polly bled and bled.
“Nina Harrow and Patrick Colson are leading the way to the terranium. Their presence will make itself known to me. And at this very moment, the Miners Union are turning their guns upon each other. Soon, the order of things will right itself, just as nature intended, and years from now, people will call it God’s work.” He looked out the window at the water, silver in the night, and he sighed as though he were a tired angel delegated to earth, carrying out the necessary acts of the righteous. “You can’t see it yet, son. But one day you will. One day, you’ll see that this is the way of things, no matter how much you resist. Power was not meant for everyone.”
Inside of Theo, a switch he did not know existed threw itself.
The water outside gleamed.
Theodore took Polly’s torso into the circle of his arms and pulled her to standing, and with thoughts that perhaps this breath might be his last, Theo reached outward with his mind, throwing it as far as it would reach, to every molecule of water his medium could bend.
