Book 2: Chapter 61: The Morning After
Book 2: Chapter 61: The Morning After
Book 2: Chapter 61: The Morning After
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the dancing dust motes in the air. For a moment, Carmen had no idea where she was, and she reached for a partner that wasn’t there. Then, everything came crashing down on her like a tidal wave, and she suddenly felt very alone.
That lasted right up until she saw Miguel curled up in a chair, his mother’s old spear leaning against the wall next to him. That brought all sorts of mixed feelings, but the most prevalent was that she couldn’t afford to lose herself in the still-poignant grief that came every time she thought of Alyssa. She had a responsibility to the living, including Miguel and all the people of Silverado who’d entrusted her with their safety as well as their potential prosperity.
She shifted, and her muscles screamed at her for the mistake. Groaning, she persisted, propping herself up on the pillow. That noise woke Miguel, whose eyes fluttered open sleepily. Just like his mother, he took a moment to remember where he was, but when his eyes found Carmen, they widened in surprise.
“Mom! You’re awake!” he shouted, launching himself from the chair. In less than a second, he crashed into her, burying his face in her shoulder as he hugged her as tightly as his little arms could allow. He’d put on a bit of muscle since he’d started training, but he still wasn’t strong enough to really affect Carmen.
Physically, at least. Emotionally, he had all the power in the world.
Even though it caused some degree of pain, Carmen wrapped her arms around her son and returned his hug with one of her own. She didn’t even realize she was crying until her tears started to drip onto his mop of black hair. She sniffed loudly, then said, “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” he asked, pulling away. Carmen didn’t want to release him, but she also didn’t want to smother him. When they locked eyes, she saw the evident confusion implied by his question.
“I made a dumb decision. I shouldn’t have gone into that mine,” she said. “But I know my limits, now. I won’t leave you ever again.”
Then, she hugged him again.
“But mom, you saved all those people,” he said, his voice muffled by its close proximity to her chest. “Everybody says you’re a hero.”
Hero.
People had called Alyssa that, too. But that had gotten her killed. Carmen didn’t care what people thought of her. In fact, a sudden epiphany told her that, in the grand scheme of things, she didn’t care about anything nearly as much as providing Miguel with an opportunity to grow up in a safe environment. That meant that she couldn’t just throw herself into dangerous situations, regardless of what she saw as her responsibility.
Not only did that put her in unnecessary danger, which in turn increased the odds of turning Miguel into an orphan, but it was also a waste of her talents. She was strong, and she could hold her own in battle. Yet, if she had been focusing on the things she did best, then the people who’d followed her into that mine would have been far better equipped to meet the dangers therein.
As a result, as Carmen had fought what she thought was a fruitless battle, she’d made the choice that, if she managed to survive, she would devote herself to giving her people the tools they needed to do the jobs for which they were suited. They were the Warriors. She was the crafter. And as much as she wanted to do her part as a fighter, she needed to remember that she’d chosen her path long ago, and now she needed to walk it.
All of that flitted through her mind as she held Miguel, and in that moment, she had to admit that her own selfish desire to protect her son played a part in that resolution as well.
Before she could respond to her son’s remarks, the door to the room – which Carmen belatedly recognized as the town’s infirmary – to admit a familiar face.
Verin looked much the same as she had when she’d fetched Carmen so Roman could deliver the news of Alyssa’s death, which meant that she was an older, matronly woman with a thick, gray braid and a stout figure. She was unarmored, and the morningstar she normally wore at her waist was nowhere to be seen.
The woman gave Carmen a tight smile that didn’t touch her eyes as she asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Like I was in an eighteen-car pileup,” Carmen admitted. “I’m sore all over.”
“That’s normal.”
“Is everyone else okay?” Carmen asked, rather than talk about her own condition. She was alive, which meant that she would recover. In any case, she was far more worried about whether or not everyone had made it out alive.
Verin shook her head. “We saved as many as we could, but...”
“Who?”
“Brett Thomas,” she said. “He fought until the very end, but by the time we arrived, he was already dead.”
Carmen’s heart jumped into her throat. Over the course of the battle, the Vigilante had proven himself a dozen times over. He was a talented fighter, and Carmen had thought he would be the last to succumb. Perhaps he wouldn’t have died if he’d had proper armor.
“Anyone else?” she asked.
“Nora Lassiter and Misha Addison.”
“I remember Nora, but the other...”
“She came with me,” Verin said. “We were in such a hurry that some of my people were caught off-guard by the number of monsters. Misha was our Knight, and she’s the only reason we arrived in time to save everyone else.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Carmen said, shaking her head. To Miguel, she said, “Sweetie, why don’t you go get me something to drink?”
“But mom...”
Carmen knew he wanted to stay and listen in, but she didn’t think it was appropriate for a boy his age to hear a casualty report. So, she gave him her best “mom look,” cutting off any further objections. He did move extra slowly on his way out, though, just to make sure everyone knew he wasn’t happy about being excluded.
“Tell me everything,” she spat, glaring down at the woman who she’d already found guilty by association.
And Verin did as she’d been ordered, spilling the story with a mix of eagerness and shame that Carmen found repulsive. Or maybe that was due to what she had to say.
Verin explained how Roman had approached her just before the trip into the tower, promising that her people would be given a place in Easton if she went along with what he had planned. At the time, Verin didn’t have any choice but to do it. She had more than a hundred people – some of whom were friends and family – depending on her. So, she went in, knowing that something bad would happen.
“I didn’t think he was going to kill her,” she mumbled. “I swear...I just thought...I don’t know...”
It was either a lie or naivete. “Go on. Tell me how he did it.”
Verin continued, explaining in brutal detail how Trace had stabbed Alyssa in the back. “He had this dagger that we’d looted from the other level,” she said. “But that just made it easier. He already had another plan to make it happen. That dagger made her vulnerable, and then...then, Roman...did it.”
“How?”
“You...y-you don’t want to know...”
“Tell me!” Carmen roared, kicking Verin in the side. She didn’t hold back, either. In her state, she couldn’t have, even if she’d wanted to. And she did not want to.
Verin coughed, spitting up blood, but she didn’t dare embrace any skills. Not with Colt standing there ready to cut her to pieces. He would, too. Everyone knew how much he’d idolized Alyssa, and he had transferred much of that devotion to Carmen in her stead.
“H-he...he beheaded her,” she said. Then, she looked up with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so...s-so sorry. I didn’t know he was going to...I thought...I thought I could maybe let him do it, then heal her, but...she...she was gone, and...”
“Kill her.”
“Ma’am?”
“Kill her, Colt. Do it, or I’m going to beat her to death with my bare hands. I don’t want Miguel to see me like that.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Fine,” Carmen said. “If you can’t stomach it, I can.”
And then she embarked on a quest to do just that. She only got one good kick in before Colt wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away. Carmen was incredibly strong, but he had all the leverage. Still, she could have broken free, and she would have if she hadn’t been interrupted by a garbled cry coming from the broken woman at her feet.
“I know how to get revenge on him!”
Carmen tore free, but that sentence had torn a hole in her resolve. So, she growled, “How?”
She knew good and well that Roman’s position was nearly unassailable. Not only was he one of the highest levels in Easton – he wasn’t quite on the power ladder, but he was close – but he also had the weight of the entire government on his side. That meant that to get to him, one needed to either be prepared for a suicide run, or...
“There’s a resistance,” Verin said. “Mostly people who were loyal to your wife, but there are people who lost friends and loved ones to his policies. I can...I can put you in touch with them. I can help you! I’m sorry! I just wanted to save –”
Carmen had heard enough. Or perhaps she’d finally lost whatever thread of civility she had left. Whatever the case, she suddenly had her summoned blacksmithing hammer in her hand. Even as it descended, Colt tried to stop her.
He wasn’t quick enough, though.
Just before the blow landed, Carmen caught sight of Verin’s surprised face. Had she really expected to be forgiven? Had she truly thought Carmen could ignore that confession? If so, then she didn’t know who she was dealing with.
The hammer crushed the healer’s skull with a sickening crunch that sent splatters of brain and fragments of bone against the wall. Then, Carmen hit her again. Roaring in inarticulate rage, she continued to pummel the woman’s skull until it was little more than a slurry of blood, bone, and brain matter.
By the time she’d finished, she was hoarse. Pushing a bloody lock of hair out of her face, she turned to a stunned Colt and said, “I need you to find out who these rebels are. I’d very much like to meet them.”
Colt swallowed hard, then said, “Yes, ma’am.”
“And Colt.”
“Ma’am?”
“Don’t let Miggy in here, okay. He doesn’t need to see this.”
“Y-yes, ma’am.”
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