Chương 164: Chapter 185: Ultimatum

I set Enefiat Trazom down outside of his dorm building and then I just hovered over to my building. The shoes I'm in were not made to be worn for eighteen hours, and I am not going to put a foot down on the ground if I don't have to. I open the front door, and give a nod to the matron-guard at the front desk, who seems very shocked to see anyone passing through the doors at this time of night. She looked up sharply from the novel she was reading- "The Wizard From Oz".

I gave the story to a ghost-writer to make it a book for the public, and they seemed to get it mostly true to the movie. When possible I try to put out stories that are critical of powerful establishments. Oz depicts a seemingly-omnipotent force as being a paper tiger supported by trickery and fear, that's a message I want the people to have. I've also put a lot of effort into promoting "The Wars of the Stars". These people are killing me with these titles. I giggle to myself, just a little giddy from exhaustion.

I float up the steps, slapping my face to get the blood flowing, make myself pull it together. I don't have time for any sleep, not right now. I've got to bring my brother back, I've got about a hundred thank-you notes to send out, and if I miss my Skydown Crossing services this morning I might just fall apart. And that means I've got two hours to stew about, to do nothing but turn this mess over and over and get myself even more worked up about it.

Early in the morning hours I silently unlock and unlatch my bedroom door, drop off my shoes, and then I stare longingly at my bed. But I know that two hours of sleep is worse than none at all. I'll make it up tonight. Somehow. Well, I can't just sit around, can I? Just to feel like I've done something, I head down the hall outside of Filly's dorm room, and I open the door to look inside. The place is devastated. Good news: her roommate's not in.

I have a few mana left, I curve wood and paper and stone and cotton, and I reassemble her writing desk, repair the carpet, fix the walls and I start lifting the torn papers, finding matches for each torn piece and sealing them back together. Paper knows its own, if I pay attention I can find the missing portions fairly easily. I can hardly stack them back up in the order she had them, but at least I can un-shred them. It's almost like my tantrum never happened.

But as soon as I've done that, all I want to do is shred it all over again. Like somehow now that I've fixed something, I've earned the right to destroy something else. I don't like that in myself, that feels like a bad sign that I'm feeling something like that. I levitate myself back to my bedroom so I don't have to blister my feet any further. First bell hit, and I was already out of the shower, idly manipulating my silver combs while I headed for the wardrobe.

I was halfway into my overskirts when I realized that Elica was still in her bed. Normally she's just as much an early riser as I am, and unlike me she's actually been asleep. I turned and gave her a look while my combs orbited my head, sorting and smoothing my hair.

"Elica? You all right?"

"Yes, I'm quite all right," she said with slightly pronounced diction.

"I just rather thought I would start slow and stay out of your way right now."

"Why would you do that?" She looked slightly embarrassed.

"Ah, just in case that look on your face was for me." I paused, turned that over a moment. I flicked the standing mirror up into the air and brought it over where I could see myself.

"Oh, yeah," I said.

"Sorry, didn't realize I've got my murder-face on."

"I've seen your face when you're planning murders," she reminded me.

"Today, you look like you're planning to enjoy a murder."

"I'm planning nothing of the sort!" I protested.

"Then sue your face for slander," she quipped, and finally got up out of bed. I guess my face had relaxed a little bit. Not that I wouldn't be sort of justified. Yesterday, Nathan attacked me in his most overt attempt so far. Stealing the class rankings was a juvenile prank, and while I was pissed at the damage he did to my reputation for accuracy and infallibility, it could be interpreted as just a taunting jab at my ego and my sense of justice. Fine. And there were a few more jabs, small things.

Some stilted conversations like he was trying to get a reaction. Whatever, not a big deal. Not really like him, but still in the bounds of "sibling bullshit". Last week he chained a three-hit combo of barely-credible legal technicalities in obvious bad faith to sign me to a contract without my knowledge that would cost me thousands of crowns, sign me up to do whatever work they could justify as "assessment", set my career plans back by years, and also possibly get me killed.

In exchange for nothing they weren't already doing. And yesterday I had my most important and valuable social event of the year yanked out from under me, costing me hundreds more crowns, and possibly crippling my next six months of development and maneuvering, as well as almost alienating every single person in any lever-pulling position of the nation and having me arrested for regicide.

I was in a jail cell all night long dealing with interrogators and every off-the-books punishment they could muster while I was in their power. Fucking up my sixteenth birthday party is pretty low, but setting me up to be arrested is just beyond the pale. I'm fucking lucky that I've already put in the legwork necessary to secure my position or I'd probably stay in that cell until the whole damn world came to an end.

I'd be fucking pissed if one of Nathan's backstabbing schemes kept me from saving the world, after he's told me to my face that he's not going to take any part in it himself. And while the world is some high fucking stakes that should not be undersold, it's the sheer spitefulness of it that's burning me up right now. Every time I take my eyes off of him he's finding some new way to screw me over and drag me down, and he's making it very personal. If I did kill him, I already know which legal defense I'd use.

I've got plenty of grounds to launch a vendetta. And it'd probably hold up again. But I wouldn't enjoy it. I brought my clothes over and started my bodice lacing itself onto me, and tried not to let my thoughts get too dark. I was headed to Skydown, headed to church, a refuge of- A sliver of ice shot through me. What if Nathan found some way to take this from me? He had roots there too, and god knows what he could do. I really have no idea.

He's been blindsiding me one attack after another, I have never once been able to anticipate his moves. This is a problem. I don't know how he would manage to keep me from Skydown on Sevendays, but I'm sure he would know a few ways. And lately, he's been specifically looking for ways to hurt me deeply. I can't count on him to hold back from knocking out my last sources of peace and happiness. That panic kept growing in me like a bubble, and it felt like a cramp in my lungs.

As soon as my bodice was tied and decent I stepped into a portal and emerged into Skydown, already breathless. Nobody booed me and threw tomatoes, so that's a good sign. I looked around for any indication that Nathan had poisoned this place against me, and found nothing. I let out a sigh of relief. Not to say he couldn't do it later, but I had been struck by a sudden and unreasoning fear that I needed to settle right away. I walked into the pub to order breakfast, signaling for the fried egg over cornbread.

I sat myself at a table, and considered that if Nathan is sabotaging me every time I take my eye off him I should just find a way to keep him constantly monitored. How unfortunate that this is one of the things that magic is just the worst at. Sorcery's almost useless at it. Sigil work has a hard time conveying information more complicated than "glow". Wizards... well, I don't think they can do anything as specific as spying on one person.

My ring, the Signet of the Seer, is one of the most powerful spying items in the world. It lets me set a marker in a place and then see that place later. No sound, no changing angles, no moving the marker unless I set a new one. It's very useful, unless you need to keep an eye on a person who is not holding still. Experimentally, I started easing up on the capybara essence, and I felt heat rise in my face, muscles tightening in a grimace. I settled it back in, and felt myself relaxing somewhat.

I hope that Professor Cseyz was right about this essence and that it was actually helpful, not just submerging or redirecting my feelings like water or steel had been. I've learned the hard way that trying to channel sheep essence in this state is a terrible idea, it brings out self-harming self-destructive impulses. Definitely need a better solution than that. Because I'm holding back a lot of anger right now, and I kinda want to fall apart about it, but moving from solution to solution is helping.

Being proactive, fixing things, that's a good source of relief. The sensation of 'problems put away' is a great cure for a sourceless, untargeted anger. Staying on schedule is keeping me from another murder spree. Yeah, spree. Right now, the way I'm feeling, if I get started I won't stop for a while.

"Your order, my lady," said a server who put my plate down, and I gratefully started eating. The cornbread was a little over, but the eggs were a little under, so I let the yolk seep into the cake of cornbread and with a bit more salt than usual it was actually really damn good. I should have ordered something with more stabbing and cutting, but this was very tasty. Madame Cycmi slid into the seat opposite me, and led with a big broad smile, and a joke about the rare honor of seeing me two days in a row.

She asked about my breakfast and about my friends from yesterday. Was that really Enefiat Trazom?! Yes it was, and I'm sorry I did not introduce you yesterday... it was weird how effectively she could pull me out of my brooding. This was something I liked from Skydown: people I had known since I was an actual infant but would see me, smile at me, and would not ask how my brother was doing. Wouldn't mention him.

Or maybe I just really looked like I needed to be brought out of myself, and a family woman like her could tell that only family can bring this much impotent anger. Which yes, is true, but also I still don't know whether or not I need him so I can save the world, and I'm not willing to gamble the future of the whole planet just because it would feel really, really good to relax and just act on my impulses. Make me feel safer. She did mention that I look very tired, and I admitted that I had not slept last night.

She got the wrong idea, and started regaling me with an amusing anecdote from when she was sixteen and enjoying her youth. She had the wrong idea about me, but I was happy for the distraction. A few more people wound up at our table, tea was poured, cakes were shared, and I even laughed a few times before it was time for church. I was bundled in with chatty friendly people who refused to leave me alone with my thoughts, and by the time I left there I was doing much better.

I was only mad enough to chew pine wood to splinters; a huge improvement. I did not tell anyone here that I had spent the night in a jail cell, and that it was Nathan's fault. This time I did not stand around after services, did not socialize with the exiting crowd. I think I've gotten all the benefit that I can from human contact for a bit, I don't want to start feeling crowded. I make my goodbyes and my see you next times and then I covered up my eyes and dropped through a portal.

This is the best mood I've been in all day. Time to ruin it. I headed to Meadowtam, to Meadwhite Castle, to the great hall that was basically my only entry point. My brother was sitting on a dining bench, with a bright sparkling smile.

"Afternoon Natalie!" he said with good cheer.

"Did you enjoy your birthday present?" And just like that the anger hits a hard boil inside me, and my fist clenches so fast that the tendons of my knuckles all crackle. Capybara be damned I am pissed.

"What did you say?" I snarled, stalking forward.

"It worked, right?" he said, still watching me, now with his forehead creased in worry.

"You're the hero now, aren't you?" The words he was saying hit my brain like flung bricks. I stopped in place, stunned.

"What?"

"I know it was doing too much," he said, "and it must have been a very big surprise, to say the least. I would have wanted to tell you about it, but the whole idea really rested on you being honestly and genuinely surprised."

"What idea?" I said, trying to piece this and parse this.

"What's going on, Nathan? Make this make sense." I should just blow him up. Implode him and walk away. God damn that would make everything easier. I shouldn't be asking him to explain, I should just be cutting losses and throats. No more worries and questions.

"Really?" he said, sitting back. He leaned against the great hall's dining table, his elbows propped on it.

"I didn't think there was much to tell. I finally found where Lachel died, and that means that I could finally clear you of the accusations that have been floating around. So I had to get a lot of witnesses who were high-stationed, and I needed them to see her, and to see your reaction. I know her family is still after you, so this could get them to back off. The timing of our birthdays was too auspicious and too befitting, I could hardly let that opportunity go to waste. Everything did work out, right?"

My head was pounding.

"I need a minute," I said. I disappeared. I screamed long and loud, and my fist smashed against the dry-rotted timbers of the Two Weeks Inn. Heavy wood snapped in front of me, puffs of pulverized plaster and sawdust bursting into the air where my knuckles careened into them. The dusty air congealed on the tear tracks of my face, and I'm just lucky that I'm not actually literally frothing mad. There's not much left of this building, but I needed something I could destroy while my brain tried to sort this.

And the bandit hideout where I tried to convince Nathan to take his quest seriously might as well be the place to bear the brunt of my boiling bitterness.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" I roared as I crushed a brickwork chimney with my hands. As it turns out, I can yell without going squeaky if I channel thunderbeast. And using dinosaur essence to vent my anger is even more cathartic than it sounds. I grab a heavy log and swing it, bringing down a wall with a titanic crash.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY?!" I repeated, disbelief adding to my anger, my hurt, my confusion.

"HOW FUCKING DARE HE?!" I swung again, and the last of the roof finally fell in. He had fucked over my birthday party, and smugly bragged about it, and acted like he had done me a favor. Like all my scrambling to sell my story last night was actually just his plan coming together and not an enormous pressure on me. Was this his plan? Fuck me over and see if I get crushed, if I wind up in prison. If I don't he can claim he's doing me a favor, and if I'm gone then he doesn't need to worry about me anymore.

The dented log swung across, clearing everything in its path like a scythe, trading force for sharpness to destroy whatever was in front of me. My vision was blurring again. I am so fucking tired of not knowing what is going on. Is he a sneaky enemy that keeps convincing me to let him off the hook because of our history? Is he a half-competent ally that keeps trying to help in ways that only my enemies could really appreciate? Is he actually as good as he thinks he is?

If he ever came clean just once, or if he could ever really help me in a meaningful way, then at least I would know. I heaved the log around and listened to the satisfying crunch and crumbling, feeling all my strength and setting it free to wreck some shit. I can hold that in my hands and feel it. My fingers dug into the grain of the wood and I whipped it around in the other direction. My arms jerked, I could feel the log break off and leave me only a stump. I wound up and threw it, hurled it into the woods.

I want to trust him. I want to ignore him. I want to fight him. I don't want this uncertainty where I struggle in between my options. I kick the pile of bricks that's left of the fireplace. Baked clay bursts into shards under my heel.

"FUCK!" I cry out, still half-blind with tears. And now there's nothing left for me to destroy. I'm not too dull to catch the symbolism built into that. I can't ever be happy near Nathan, somehow everything gets stolen or poisoned. But I can't ever be hurt around him, the honesty of victimhood is no refuge. And if I let myself get mad in front of him, it always turns into some pitiful display. Childish tantrum.

He stands there and acts like nothing is happening but whenever he's around everything gets taken from me, even my own feelings, my confidence in my thoughts. He could have denied having anything to do with it, I would have called him a liar, and we would have this fight. He could have admitted it and taunted me with it, challenged me to do anything about it. I would snarl at him and start planning a real revenge, something they would tell stories about.

Instead he's acting like this was a birthday present intended in good faith and good intentions. And just like that, I can't thank him, hate him, abandon him, yell at him, forgive him... Thanks to him, confusion is turning into my least favorite feeling ever. I long for something as comprehensible as pain. I wipe my eyes, and sigh. My hands roll and flicker through gestures, curving the fabrics and materials. My shoes repaired themselves, my dress mended.

The dirt and dust fell off of me like water from a duck's back. My hair re-braided itself and smoothed back, under control. The tears tracking my face dried and patted clean, and I blew my nose on a conjured handkerchief. I have put away the dinosaur blood, but this time I don't need the capybara. I feel so goddamned tired now. My feelings had burned down until there was just no more of them. It was a tired and hollowed-out version of me that stepped into a portal to return to Meadwhite. His face gave me nothing.

No answers, no guideposts, no solutions, not even a good question.

"Are you all right?" he asked. Neutral tone. Is he taunting me, is he worried about me, is he just making conversation, is he trying to gauge how much further I can be pushed?

"Let's mind our own business today, shall we?" I replied. My voice was tired and bitter. But whatever he's doing, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction.

"Back to the Academy. Where is Filly?" He sat, still watching me, only his eyes moving to track me.

"She's on the front lawn. But- I think you should talk to me," he said. Of course you do. Everyone should just give you every secret, shouldn't they? I shook my head.

"Nothing to say."

"And the birthday present?" he prompted. How the fuck do I answer to that? I wondered. After a minute I just shook my head again. I'll just give him the short-answer summary.

"It did not go like you said," I grated out, resenting every word I was giving up. I should have come back before I calmed down. I shouldn't have waited until I was in a good mood, hours of calming and capybara. I should have flown into his face while I still had all my own feelings, well earned and well-justified, and just flattened him instead of letting him talk this out.

"Well, that's really unfortunate," he said.

"I know that this was a big risk but I was quite confident. And, I should also apologize for what I know you lost invested into the party that I diverted with my actions. The cost could not have been insignificant, and I would be happy to repay-""Nathan," I interrupted him. I waited until I had good eye contact, had him really listening.

"If you are not going to be what the future needs you to be, and do what I've asked you to do, then I'm going to need you to keep your plans out of my affairs entirely." I wasn't angry. I wasn't feeling that heat or impulsiveness. I felt just like I felt when I start channeling void, and all the world simplifies down. The void pares things down: what I need, and what doesn't matter. That felt like this. I took a deeper breath.

"If you are not going to take the role that is meant for you, then you stay out of the way. And if you put a hand into my business without speaking to me, that's a hand that you will not get back." I never released his eyes, I let my simple cold clean feelings shine right there. I kept it all on my face, as if I could ever hide it. I made sure he saw it. I left it there in the open, the ultimatum. No anger, no hate. The blade does not hate but the flesh bleeds anyway.

I don't need to feel anything to make this threat real.

"Four years from today," I said.

"That's when this is over, one way or another. After that, we can find whatever is normal for us." I held his gaze with my eyes showing nothing but the resignation I have to doing my job, no matter what. He held my eyes with a mask in his own, showing me nothing at all. Nothing I can use there. After a minute he stood up and pressed his hands together.

"We should get back to the campus," he said to me. On the front lawn, Filita Coltorn-Snairlin stood with all their luggage, avoiding my eyes. He had kept her a safe distance from me until he was sure of my self-control. There was a stack of boxes and bags that he had not had yesterday. His birthday presents from the family. I did not even open my mouth to ask him if there had been any for me. I don't want even a single disappointment more. I just waved my hand and opened the door to all places.

Silent coruscation poured out and enveloped the three of us. We stepped through, and the door was closed only a second before it reopened. At the Academy, once more. We stepped out on the lawn, and while I blinked and tried to recover my vision, he was already walking away with Filly, who once had almost been my friend. He paused though, and turned around to face me.

"You know what your mistake was, Natalie?" he asked me.

"What's that," I sighed. Nobody ever offers to tell you what your problem is, only what they perceive your problem to be. He paused.

"I don't lock my door at night. I never have. I was never in the habit."

"What does that mean?" I asked him, still blinking against a blinded haze. He was silent, staring at me.

"You'll work it out," he said, and walked away from me. He was out of the range of my sorcerous awareness before I had my eyes back. The fuck does that mean?