Chương 159: Act 3, Chapter 13: Breaking fast and apart

Day in the story: 1st January (Thursday), around 12. 30 p. m. I couldn't convince Peaches to pet Liora after we landed here. She also got weirdly silent and absent-minded after a while, so I called it quits and helped her to the bedroom that Diana Grace Percy lent her for the night. I spent my half hour of sleep inside my Domain, then returned here again to sleep in my designated bed, pretending to be human. Again. I felt all of my card holders return around five thirty and assumed everyone was with them.

So I let them sleep it all off while I began wandering the halls, much to the annoyance of the people on the lady of the house's payroll. To their credit, though, none of them said a word about me or the other guests they had to notice and, at times, even care for. My aimless walk, during which I ogled paintings and statues displayed openly on the walls and on various pedestals evenly set near them, eventually led me to the kitchen.

There, with some improvised sign language and help from my innate charm, I managed to ask for a tea. What I got instead was a damn masterpiece, with an aroma comparable to something made in the House of Lebens. I bowed in thanks to the older woman in an apron, who was constantly speaking to her kitchen aide, but she just waved me off. There was something soothing in how her words seemed to both anger and steady her helper, a younger woman, probably my age.

Her jaw was set tight, a firm promise to herself not to speak and make the situation worse. Still, her eyes told the story of someone who had just received genuinely helpful tips, darting from one spice to another. I liked watching people. Especially people working, and those I didn't understand yet. A language barrier made that second part more pronounced, and I enjoyed catching the small nuances in their behavior that let me connect with them without a single word spoken.

I assigned all my success in designing personas for myself to that skill, to the ability to see people for what they are and how their bodies react in tandem with their speech patterns and ticks. That, too, was a process of creation like any other. It required careful layering of attitudes over behaviors, onto the frame of the body, the skin, the hair, makeup, the movements, and finally the words. The result was an art made of equal parts acting and preparation.

I sat on the windowsill in the dining hall of the mansion, sipping great hot tea. With a single spoon of honey and some cinnamon, it smelled great and tasted delicious. It began snowing sometime around eight o'clock, and now everything was covered in a white plush the clouds themselves seemed to be made of, just a few dozen degrees colder. I loved it anyway. The lady of the house was approaching me slowly, like some old ghost haunting the place while still alive.

Her hair was silver with a hint of old gold, reminiscent of Sophie's color. It was swept up loosely, pinned with a tortoiseshell comb, with a few rebellious strands that had escaped that morning's care. She dressed in layers. A softly faded silk dressing gown in a muted peacock shade, edged with slightly frayed but exquisite lace. Beneath it, a cream cashmere twinset, buttoned wrong by one button. The trousers were tailored but relaxed, flannel by the looks of them, clearly British in spirit.

Velvet slippers adorned her feet, a bit absurd in how they looked, yet still screaming, "I am rich and I can show it." Jewelry was an "of course" rather than an option. Pearl earrings and a matching necklace. Every time I had seen her, she wore something different, even during our first surprise and unannounced teleportation here. Force of habit, I guessed. Her face carried the softness of age and the sharpness of repetition. A mouth that once knew irony. Eyes that missed nothing.

A faint scent of unapologetically old-fashioned cologne, lavender perhaps, followed her as she moved. I began to wonder whether my natural senses of smell and sight were getting better with all the Authority I was gaining. Even without the power of my suit and mask, I could easily discern all those details about her without much effort.

"Splendid to be able to see you again." Her voice carried that old, tired melody. Pleasant, but never one to accept no for an answer. With just a tint of melancholy.

"Likewise, Diana." I answered, turning away from the window. I let my feet dangle for a second, then dropped to the ground in front of her with a slight curtsy. She seemed to like that, returning the gesture with the addition of a wide smile.

"You are dear Sophia's girlfriend?" she asked, eyes squinting.

"More like a girl and a friend."

"I remember her calling you that exact thing. My memory never fails me." The first part was true. Sophie did call me that when we arrived in a sudden rush of perplexity. The second part, not so much. The old lady had her episodes of forgetfulness, but perhaps she forgot about those, so all was forgiven on my part.

"In the greatest truth I can share, I am not up to date with trends from over the ocean. Those new genders and sexual orientations are very novel to me." Oh. Somehow I had steered myself into that kind of conversation.

"But I, too, was always inclined to follow my dear Sappho of Lesbos in her desires."

"This is…" I tried to guide her away from the path she was on, but she did not let me.

"If there ever was a reason for me not to seek solace in marriage, it was exactly that. I never found any gentleman a match for what my heart wanted. It was always beating faster for the likeness of myself. I wish I had been born a few decades later, so following that urge would not be seen with a burden of disdain."

"Yes. It certainly is easier now in some parts of the world," I replied.

"Would you like to sit down with me?" I asked, pointing to the table.

"Oh, excuse me. Age is a cruel companion. It makes one forget their manners. It is I who should be inviting you to rest after the first night of the year. Please follow me, and I will call for breakfast for you and me." I accepted the invitation and offered her my elbow as I led her toward the seat, then took the one opposite her. She raised her arm as she sat, and one of her servants came in quick and ready. She spoke to her in French, then turned back to me as the help hurried off toward the kitchen.

"Have you no need for sleep as great as the others? As my dear Sophia?"

"My mind doesn't like being idle."

"My thoughts get the better of me as well. They are like that, especially at night. When the body ceases to move, they refuse to be reined in and aligned with my need for sleep."

"There are medications that help," I answered.

"Not when your body stops seeing them as such. They are no longer of any help to me, my dear. Unfortunate is the passage of time." And overuse of drugs. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"How long have you been living here, in Paris?"

"I came here with my parents over six decades ago. Sophia's mother, my sister, was here with me for ten of those years before she decided to move to the States. Did you find the city worth thinking about?"

"I did. It's much different from New York, both in scope and in its artistic inclinations. I'd like to return one day, to explore what it has to offer." Along with its Ideworld version.

"Any friend of my niece is welcome here. It is unimaginable, but in truth I am hardly visited at present. I brought no children of my own into this world, and my friends have all but one departed already for the far shores."

"Well said."

"I try not to bring up the name of the one who waits for me so dearly. Sometimes I wonder if he was my only true companion over the years." A curious outlook on death. This lady was proving to be remarkable already.

"He is not very faithful to one," she laughed, and soon it turned into a cough. That was when the servants began bringing in breakfast. Freshly baked bread, butter that actually carried an aroma, fresh vegetables, cheese, hams, eggs. A full galore of fragrances and tastes yet to be tried.

"No, my dear, that is true. He awaits all of us. His patience for me, however, seems to be stretched very thin."

"You don't feel well?"

"I think there is not much left for me in this world to try or see."

"I'd bet a lot of money on that being untrue."

"You'd lose that money, dear. Enjoy the breakfast, please." I took a slice of bread and started smearing butter on top of it.

"What sum are we talking about here?" I asked, placing a slice of cheese and tomato on top.

"That was just a figure of speech. I am not one to make real bets. My family worked hard for the money that I can simply use. I plan on leaving this place in a state that will require the least amount of effort to keep presentable."

"Leave it to whom? Your sister?"

"That old hag? Good gracious, no. Of course not." I took a bite. Crunchy and melting at the same time. This was what money could buy you. Luxury outside and inside of a body.

"My love for that woman is but empty air now. Her children, however, have never disappointed me."

"Sophie and her brother?"

"Yes. They will get it when I am gone. I only hope they will do something better with that wealth rather than simply use it."

"You never worked?"

"Not in a true sense of the word. No, dear. Such a need never arose for me. Is that something you would like to try in your life?" The question made me laugh internally, but the lady was dead serious, so I gave her an honest answer.

"I already did. I've been working since I was a teenager."

"That's profoundly interesting. Do tell more, please." She asked as she cracked the shell of a soft-boiled egg. I noticed Sophie and Nickolas walking down the stairs, heading toward us.

"Nothing spectacular. I was an aide to a person not unlike yourself. Sent to mingle in high society situations."

"And that too is work? Maybe I was not as jobless myself." She joked with a smile.

"It is, if you're able to gain some value out of those meetings."

"Business? Unusual for a teenager."

"Very unusual," I replied, sipping my tea. It was obvious Sophie had decided to bring everyone in, despite the fact that Hannah looked about six hours short on sleep and Evan was clearly forming a New Year's no-drinking resolution as he walked—judging by his skin color alone. Peaches looked cheerful and rested among them. I wondered how much, if anything, she would remember from the events of the last night, while hoping Reality would spare her the details for once.

Sophie's aunt stood up to greet everyone the same way she had greeted me. There was cheer in her voice and genuine happiness that her house was full of guests for once. Everyone else, despite their tiredness, tried their best to be at the top of their game, and we spent the breakfast talking, reminiscing about last night, and joking around.

"Wait a second," Peaches said as Sophie explained to her and the rest that she had found an old brooch here that would send each one of them back to New York without much hassle. At least for them. I would make it in two turns this time, as my tattoo was still regaining power from the last time I used it.

"Isn't this how we got here in the first place?"

"No. We flew. Don't you remember?" Tyler said, and both Evan and Elena nodded in unison to confirm their shared, but fabricated, memory.

"Hannah?" Peaches turned to her.

"You look like you aren't sure."

"No. I'm just so sleepy I don't really care. Might as well touch this thing and get it over with."

"That's what she said," Jason joked, prompting every man, even Nickolas, who did his best to remain stoic, to burst into laughter. Men were simple creatures.

"Whatever," Hannah replied.

"It's still worth trying," Elena said, doing her best to convince everyone. My destination was her apartment, which I had painted about a week ago for that very reason. I figured I would spare at least Elena and Tyler some walking, and the rest would still be able to rest there a bit. If I knew El well enough, she would not let them go out if she sensed they were tired or confused.

"Please, let's just try," Sophie urged, and we finally made the circle and repeated the ritual that had brought us here. After a brief light show and me forcing the world to move, all of our sleeper friends, Jason and Zoe, were moved back to New York. The original plan included Peter among them as well, but he insisted on staying until the second turn for some reason. So, as they disappeared, I turned to him with a question mark painted on my face. Not literally, of course.

"You okay, Lex?" Pete asked.

"Yeah. This time it wasn't as taxing for me. Why did you want to stay?"

"Can I say something first?" Nickolas interrupted us, as Sophie kept clutching his arm, her eyes sad.

"Go ahead," Peter answered him.

"I am not going back with you, Alexa. My family's Domain is down in Marseille, and I will take the train there myself and reach it on foot from there."

"Does that mean…?" Peter asked.

"Yes. He wants to go along with his stupid plan," Sophie said.

"I don't get why he has to do it, but he is a stubborn ox and won't listen to reason."

"Sunshine, please, I will be fine."

"You said it yourself that you don't know that for sure," she protested as we stood alone in the ballroom.

"My family will join me. They have a plane today and will fly straight there. It's already decided. I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you, just in case." A tear ran down Sophie's cheek as she bit her lip to stop the others. She let go of his arm and moved toward Peter, who hugged her.

"You sure, man?" he asked, holding her head.

"She is in good hands. You are a good friend, the best she could have hoped for, and Alexa is fierce and loyal. I know she will be protected. I am sure," Nickolas replied, extending his hand toward Pete. They shook, and then Nickolas reached out to me. I was hesitant, but I took it anyway. He shook my hand at first, then pulled me closer and hugged me, whispering in my ear.

"Please. I am counting on you."

"You got it," I whispered back as I stepped away.

"I have similar news, unfortunately," Peter said, releasing Sophie from his embrace. Her makeup was completely ruined as she moved to my side, clutching my arm.

"I passed all my exams on pre-terms, courtesy of my professors and good grades. I'm going to Quantico in two days."

"You promised to keep an eye on Jason. You told me you'd put him down if anything bad happens."

"Yes. That's why I wanted to speak with you alone here. Give me something that would allow you to reach me quickly, and I will keep it on me at all times, because I think you were right. There is something wrong with that man. Very wrong."

"Told you," I answered as the others focused on Peter.

"I know him the longest, and I think the best out of any of you, including Alexa. I observed him today and yesterday, and I can say with one hundred percent certainty that this is not the Jason who was with us. Is it possible that some Shattered took his form?" He turned to me.

"Maybe, but I don't think so. I've been able to see through their illusions so far."

"Then it's something else, or they got better at it, because he doesn't behave like Jason, at least not all the time. It's as if he's pretending to be him, but forgets how he should be from time to time. His speech changes. Even his tone and worldview. I know for a fact that the real Jay would never jump into that river with me. He's a good swimmer, but deeply afraid of depths he can't see, and I don't think playing hero would ever change that. And there are his eyes."

"Eyes?" Nickolas asked.

"Yeah. He always had light green eyes, and now they're more akin to Alexa's, hazel. Sometimes brown, sometimes green, depending on how the light hits them. And I don't think he's wearing lenses."

"And he's used Malik's echo," Nickolas added.

"That too," Pete said.

"I don't think so," I said.

"Malik always repeated his own moves. And I'm sure it was someone else he echoed yesterday."

"All the more reason to be wary of him," Peter said, deep in thought.

"What happened to you tonight?" he asked.

"Nothing much. I was attacked by some mage or Changed shadow. Vampire, maybe. You know something about them, Nick?" I asked, but he turned his head.

"Anyway, that guy established authority over my movements with his eyes. Forced me and Peaches to obey his verbal commands, but I managed to kill him anyway."

"How?" Sophie asked, surprised.

"If you couldn't move?"

"I'll tell you later. I can even show you. It doesn't matter for now, though. I'm safe, and so is Peaches, who I'm sure doesn't remember any of this."