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THIRTY-NINE
THE BURDEN OF HIS WORDS SETTLES DOWN on me, weighing across my chest. I don’t hear how the others react. They blur out of focus as I’m forced once again to confront responsibility and purpose. I should be accustomed to this tangled dance of power and obligation, but I feel the constriction of it. I tried to let go of the idea of saving myself, of saving Amie, but the idea of saving the world on my own—of wielding such terrible and awesome power—is nearly more than I can bear.
“Adelice.” Erik is beside me, coaxing me back to the present. His hands are wrapped, hot, around my wrists. “You okay?”
I anchor myself in his presence. Erik pushes me and accepts me when I’m still only human. If I can latch on to him and syphon his strength, maybe I can face what’s coming next.
“How can you know that?” Dante is demanding of Albert. I focus on his words, willing my mind to participate in the exchange of information.
“You said she was the Creweler,” Albert says, but he’s holding something back. I can see that.
“I was supposed to be the Creweler,” I correct. “I never finished my training.”
“So you can catch the elements and command them,” he says. “What else? There is more.”
I nod, pushing the information out of my torpid mind. “I can alter like a Tailor.”
“So genetically you have both powers,” he says.
“Yes, I must have gotten them from my parents,” I say, filling him in on the strange relationship between Dante and me. On how the time dilation has affected our lives’ courses as we lived on the disparate timelines of two worlds.
“Has your mother been tested? It would be interesting to analyze her genetic makeup, along with his—”
I stop him before the lump in my throat swells and dams my voice. “My mother is a Remnant. I doubt she’d cooperate.”
“Her mother’s genetics and mine,” Dante jumps in, “created something special, unique, like a mutation.”
“Not exactly, dear boy,” Albert says, and then pauses. “I feel especially strange calling you that now, given that you have a nearly grown daughter.”
“It’s weird for the rest of us, too,” Erik says.
“Genetic abilities skip around, appearing in seemingly strange fashion, but they’re not random. Once it became clear that I had a method of separating the worlds, the Guild worked feverishly to prevent that from happening,” Albert says.
“Why? Why would they want to remain dependent on Earth?” Jost asks. “Earth was a threat to them.”
“And an opportunity. You must not forget these were businessmen,” Albert tells him. “Earth had resources, and the Guild was uncertain we wouldn’t require more of them. But I think, truly, they were unable to divorce themselves from the possibility of this world. What if they could discover ways of using it to their own advantage later? And then there was the real need of a hiding spot should their schemes be discovered.”
“In case anyone found out the same men were running the show,” I say.
“But they had Tailors to keep that a secret,” Dante says.
“Yes, but men are fickle. Uprisings occur no matter how tightly you grip the masses in your hands. Earth was an insurance plan, but more important, tying Arras off from Earth would take away their looms. It would take away their control.
“Your story about your unusual parentage answers a lot of my questions,” Albert continues. “The Guild tried very hard to prevent you from existing.”
“And they’ve always seemed overeager to have me.” None of this was news. Dante had told me this before, but Albert had insights Dante could only guess at.
“Marriage laws, segregation, courtship appointments. It is a strange way to run a world, no?” Albert asks.
“They told us we had to be pure.”
“An antiquated means of control, but unfortunately many well-meaning parents and authorities bought into it. Those laws enabled the Guild to hide the true motivation behind their actions.”
“Which was?” Dante asks.
“Controlling the genetics of those who came into the weave,” he says. “We engineered Spinsters, cultivated the creative, life-giving nature of women, but Tailors were an unanticipated side effect.”
“How did it happen?” I ask.
