Page 44 of Retrograde

“See, that’s what I mean!” I turn my attention back to Lena, the light and shadow of the flame dancing across her fatigued face. “He hates me. Why don’t you? Shouldn’t you hate me too?”

“Wasn’t it you who patched Sammy up at Trebsberg?” Lena asks, her brow knitting with confusion. “You and that older friend of yours worked with the Hounds sometimes, didn’t you?”

The effect of her words is as sobering as a bucket of ice water thrown in my face. I sit up abruptly. But before I can manage to even open my mouth, Aron demands in a voice sharp as steel, “What did you just say?”

Lena frowns, chewing the inside of her cheek. “I mostly scavenged for the Hounds. I was practically one of them. I heard things and put two and two together when eight-fingered Sammy told me you saved his life.”

“Oh! The guy with eight fingers.” The memory clicks in place: an ugly abdominal gash, white gauze, the index finger missing from each hand. “Yes. Not that it did him much good. They all died two weeks later.”

“What the hell ...” Aron mutters, but Lena disregards him.

“You patched a rebel up in an area swarming with Continuits!”

“I’m a photographer.” I wave my arm dismissively. “I know how to make myself inconspicuous. It’s what anyone would have done.”

“No.” Her shadow on the ground lengthens as she leans closer. “It’s what a hero would have done.” I want to protest her words, but she doesn’t give me a chance. “It wasn’t for nothing. You gave him two more weeks with his people.” Her voice breaks a little, and I don’t manage anything better than a small, choked “oh” in reaction.

“Slow the fuck down ...” Aron’s voice rises, but so does Lena’s as she speaks over him.

“Sammy and I were friends. We were a lot alike. We both lost everything when the bombs fell. I understood why he had to fight. And he understood why I had to scavenge.”

“Hold THE FUCK up.” Aron roars, then points at Lena. “You! You can confirm that Hotshot here and her buddy worked for us?”

“Well, that’s what I’m fucking saying, isn’t it?” she snaps at him, earning a darkly displeased look.

“How sure are you? Would you vouch for them?”

“Yes, you lunatic. I would.”

“Well fuck me,” Aron exhales loudly. “And I was so sure that crybaby was lying.”

I let out a breath—a breath I’ve been holding ever since I first woke up in Aron’s cell. It’s like a weight has just dropped off my shoulders. I know this won’t mean freedom for me. I’m never escaping the Necromancer’s wrath. I was the one who pushed him over the edge and into the depths of his madness. On some level, I think I’ve always known. From the day his brilliant, demented creations started cropping up, he’s been like a heavy storm cloud hanging over my head wherever I went.

But Lena’s testimony may just prove to be Corrado’s salvation, and that’s all that matters to me anymore. Aron Krasnik is a psychopath, but he is far from erratic. He sees himself as a justice-bringer, and everything he does makes horrifying sense to him.

I can already see the worried creases lining his brow with doubt. And doubt is like erosion—it starts imperceptibly, but in the long run it can grow powerful enough to alter the course of a person’s intentions.

I reach out for the flask lying abandoned on the ground and take a deep swig.

17

ARON

The fire’s dying out, but I don’t feed it any more wood. It’s a warm night. Better not be too visible while we sleep. I doubt there are any patrols this deep into the Rifterland. But there could be raiders roaming around.

Distracting me from my thoughts, Riley gets up and stumbles, nearly falling on top of me as she walks around me on unsteady legs, her swaying curves teasing me.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Hotshot?” I stop her in her tracks with my hand on her hip.

“I need to pee,” she slurs, stomping her foot. “Why, is that not allowed, Mr Control Freak?”

She’s absolutely hammered and has no idea what she’s saying. Which is the only reason I don’t give her a hard time. I consider her question. Even if she tries to run, she won’t get far in this state. Should I come with her to make sure she doesn’t fall off the cliff? Maybe, but Lena’s already getting on my nerves with her judgemental gaze as it is. Better not make it worse.

“Don’t go far and don’t go near the cliff,” I tell Riley. “If you’re not back soon, there’ll be consequences. The longer you take, the less you’ll like those consequences. Understood?”

“Yessir!” She mock salutes me. “You’re so fucking mean, you know that?” she adds, stepping out of my hold.

“Don’t make me prove to you just how mean I can really be,” I call after her before she disappears around the ruin’s wall.