Chapter 33

Once they were past the main office, the last trees peeled away. Despite the thickening fog, Gavin could finally see where they were headed.

The shipyard was shaped like the head of a fork thrusting out to sea. The fork’s head was cracked asphalt, caked in mud. Cranes towered above, monuments of peeling paint and steel. Warehouses, with facades of corrugated metal, stood silently at the boundary of the compound. Beyond, four flooded drydocks gaped open, two containing the rusted skeletons of ships. How long had it been since this place had operated? If it had been deserted during expansion just before the recession, then that would explain the state the shipyard was in. Yet it seemed somebody was still paying for the electricity.

The frothing sea, glazed by a dusting of fresh snow, sloshed against the docks. Further distant, at the edge of the light’s reach, wooden piers speared the ocean. Each dock was marked by blue stenciling that had been eroded by the salt spray. A sign indicated that the right-most pier, the one deformed by the presence of a large warehouse, was the dock four they sought.

It almost seemed too simple as Gavin ran across the broken blacktop with Coral’s hand clutched tight in his own. As the sound of gunshots cracked the frozen air behind them, he expected one of the shots to find his shoulder. Each shadow flickering on the edge of the dim lights’ halos could have been another gunman ready to stamp out the hope Lena had nurtured. But the fervor of that hope anesthetized him. The only pain that reached him now was the burn of his lungs as he gasped for air, and the sting of Coral’s fingernails catching his skin with every other step.

Blacktop became old wooden planks. Wind swept through Gavin’s hair and ruffled his coat. The smell of ice-cold salt filled his nostrils. They were faced with the black water of the open sea. The fourth dock stretched straight ahead and vanished into a thick fog.

Gavin’s gait slowed. He peered down the length of the foggy pier, searching for any sign of Jase. The breath of the sea swallowed them. Visibility fell to a dozen feet. The sloshing of the waves against the piles underfoot filled his ears; it was disorienting, disturbing. A few long moments longer in the fog, and he had nearly surrendered all hope.

But then he spied the glint of an ember, dead ahead. “Come on,” he said. Another pair of gunshots in the distance made the girl jump, but she followed obediently. That had to be Jase ahead. There’s no way something would have happened to him. Not to him; he was a damn ace, after all.

“Jase?” Gavin called.

The figure emerged like a ghost from the fog, a dark silhouette in a familiar trench coat. The ember of the cigarette burned brighter as the ghost began to walk toward them. “Well, well,” Jase said. “Look who made it.”

And with those words, Gavin’s heart was ready to burst through his chest and sing in relief. “Bleeding fuck, Jase,” he said. “Things are worse than we thought. We’re in this thing deep if Leblanc called in Architeuthis just for us.”

The man nodded slowly and dragged the flame of his cigarette bright. “Is Lena alright?” he asked.

Not even a gasp at the mention of Architeuthis? He’d probably figured it out on his own already. Gavin’s mind settled into the question; it pained his heart to think of what Lena was risking for him—for Coral. A judgmental pair of gunshots, deadened by the distance and fog barrier, at least confirmed she was still alive enough to fight. “She’s fine for now,” Gavin said. “But who knows how long she’ll be able to hold off the likes of Shimazono’s elite. Shall we get a move on, then?”

“I suppose we shall.”

Coral tugged on his sleeve. The gesture embodied the scared little girl she must still have been. “Gavin?” she whispered.

His heart was overflowing. He turned toward her and had to stop himself from wrapping her in a comforting, big-brotherly hug. “What’s wrong?”

Her face was pale and confused. She was staring straight ahead. She mouthed something that Gavin didn’t quite catch, so he tried instead to follow her gaze. Through the fog, he could only see black water lapping against the end of the dock. Whatever she was looking at, he couldn’t see it.

And that’s when it hit him. His throat clenched around a hard swallow. “Jase?”

The man remained silent.

The sting of salt in the air turned Gavin’s stomach. His mouth went dry. “Jase,” he choked out. “Where’s the boat?”

An endless moment passed. Jase expelled a jet of smoke into the fog, and then curled his hand around the cigarette, crushing it to nothing with his bare skin. His upper lip was shaking as he eyed the two of them. His shoulders rolled with a helpless shrug. “I begged you not to do this,” he said. “I told you how dangerous it was.”

Denial clouded Gavin’s mind. The air grew colder, impossibly cold. “Jase?”

“I told you,” Jase said, “that your trust was going to get you killed.”

A shiver racked Gavin’s innards. “No,” he breathed. “No, you’re fucking shitting me. I don’t believe you.”

“Why would you come here?” Remorse ripped Jase’s words to shreds. “A fucking abandoned shipyard in the middle of nowhere. You had to see through it. You must’ve known what this was, Gavin.”

Gavin’s eyes welled with heat. “No. You can’t be.”

Coral shivered beside him. “Gavin?” she asked, voice cracking.

“You must’ve known,” Jase repeated. “You had to know this was a trap. So did you just ignore the signs?”

Gavin’s whole body tightened about the knot in his core. “All this time, it was you.”

Jase’s shoulders sagged. “It was me.”

“Why?” The word exploded from Gavin’s mouth. “You were supposed to be my ally, my friend! God damn you, why?!”

Leaden with sorrow and chained with purpose, Jase began to walk toward them. “Because this war is bigger than you or I, Gavin.” The soles of his boots clicked damply against the wood of the pier. The planks groaned with each step. “Coral is the key to ending this war. No matter how good your heart may be, I cannot allow you to sacrifice everything we’ve all fought and bled for.”

He was near enough now that Gavin could see clearly the tear tracks beneath his eyes. Yet his eyes smoldered with conviction that could kill.

Gavin willed himself to become wider. “Coral, run!”

A low gasp warbled from the girl. Her feet shuffled. Unsteadily, she turned and began to move.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Jase raised an arm. Fabric ripped up and down its length, and a wild tangle of blood erupted. It slithered through the air past Gavin before he could try to intercept it. He spun about, but it was too late. The blood ribbon crystallized into a chain and coiled around Coral’s ankles. She shrieked as her legs caught. Her duffel bag tumbled off her shoulder, and she fell face-first into the dock with a thunk.

Gavin called after her. He wanted to run to her, to untangle her, to buy her time to flee—where to he didn’t know, but anywhere was safer than here. His feet, however, wouldn’t move. They were smarter than he was. On some level, he knew there was only one way out for them. His fists tightened, and he squared off with his best friend.

Jase, seeing he had Gavin’s attention, took a deep breath. “This is a moment,” he said, “that future generations will look back upon as the turning point, the exact hour that reshaped the entire landscape of the hemomantic world. With Malthus’s death, so ends the mutual slaughter of the hemomancers. With the end of the Orchid-Rose war, our world can finally begin to heal. That is the cause I pledged my life to Lady Leblanc for.”

“Yeah?” Gavin growled. “Well saving Coral is the cause I pledged my life for.”

“Don’t be stupid, Gavin. Listen to yourself. This girl isn’t worth a damn to anybody in the world. If you’re so desperate to atone for Pyrite, there are other ways. Please, don’t throw your life away.”

Gavin’s face was hot. “Fuck off, you sack of shit.”

“Listen to me,” Jase said, voice warbling. “The Rosarium is coming. It should only be a matter of minutes now before they arrive in force to collect Coral. There’s still time for you to leave here alive.”

Gavin could hear Coral scrambling to crawl behind him and not getting far. The groans were pitiful; they goaded Gavin preemptively to self-loathing. “You bleeding sanctimonious fuck,” he seethed. “You had the nerve to give out about selling my soul to the Hyacinth.”

The blow seemed to land. Jase’s chin dipped, and his nose curled. “Why can’t you see the big picture? What is the life of a nobody weighed against the death of Malthus?” The wall of fog billowed thicker over them. “I don’t want to kill you, Gavin. So turn around. Run away from here. I’ll make sure Leblanc knows that you saw reason in the end.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Jase frowned. His sorrow was apparent, genuine. “So, that’s it, then? You’re really willing to fight your best friend to the death for some nought who doesn’t give a shit about you?”

“You’re goddamn right I am.” His body was shaking. Betrayal sawed through his heart, and the gore that leaked was hot enough to melt steel and friendship alike.

Jase’s sorrow grew thicker. His eyes dampened. “Then go ahead. Make the first move.”

All of a sudden, it was all too real. The hazy dream dissolved into absolute lucidity. The old idiom of the Orchid-Rose war turning brother against brother rang deafeningly through his ears. Behind him, Coral had ceased struggling. He could hear her breathing, feel her eyes on him. His soul ached for what he had to do.

As he stood there, pinned in place by his best friend’s gaze, the memories came hard and fast. He remembered the first time the two of them had met. He recalled that quiet, shy boy who always stood in the back of their little hemo group in Arklow. He was the foreigner; that was where the name Jase the Ace had first appeared in the wild. Gavin recalled with heart-rending clarity the cool distance that thawed between them even as the other children departed with their families for greater opportunities elsewhere. They spent the summer days together, watching the world waste away.

Gavin’s fingers twitched. His hand moved for the holster at his hip.

He remembered when he joined the Veil. The reunion. The way Jase’s face had lit up. For so long, Gavin had thought himself a friendless urchin in life’s current. That night they drank themselves stupid off beer, whiskey, and Dublin paint thinner, spilling stories old and new alike. Gavin had known from that moment that his lonely journey was over; he’d found a place to call home.

Gavin’s hand collapsed on the butt of his pistol.

Tear-flecked splotches. Broken mirrors. Blood covering his knuckles. Harry Yeats had scarred Gavin with his final breath. Guilt devoured him. But when he was at the end of his rope, drunk half to the grave, Jase had been there to lend an ear and a word of his own. They commiserated over the ruins left by their war. The man, his best friend, bared his heart, his doubts—was it another strand in a knot of lies? If you’re breaking from the Veil, Jase said, you deserve a clean break. So you should tell the old woman to her face that you’re out. And so this whole farce had begun.

Friendship and hatred locked horns in a decisive duel. All those memories were stained, tarnished. Even if they both walked away, nothing would ever be the same again. Gavin’s mind was made up—and it had been since the night they saved Coral.

Gavin drew his gun.

Jase was faster.

Three cracks pounded Gavin’s eardrums. His arm went limp. Shreds of his jacket tore loose. His own gun tumbled, unfired, from his grip in slow motion.

Coral’s gasp cut through the gallop of bangs. She screamed.

Gravity didn’t seem to work right. It was too slow, gave too much time to contemplate. When at last Gavin fell, it was because his knees had begun to wobble like rubber stilts. There was no pain as the dock’s planks crashed into him. All he felt was the numb, icy rivets in his arm and chest. He gasped for breath; his lungs swelled with moisture, and then he couldn’t breathe at all. A cough rumbled from deep within, and a gush of blood splattered onto the wood.

“I’m sorry,” Jase said. “Please, believe me.”

Gavin’s fingers still clutched a gun that wasn’t there. The shaking made it all the way to his elbow. His other hand grabbed at the feeling of tightness at his collarbone, as if he could alleviate it by untying a knot. All he found was a slick river. He dug deep, tried to excavate enough strength to get back up. There was none to be found. Another sputter of a cough dampened the dock.

Everything was spinning. He was getting further and further away from himself. Letting go would be so easy. He’d talked so damned big about being willing to die for Coral. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t afraid.

Dull footsteps on the wood approached. A shadow towered above him. Go ahead, he thought. Do your bleeding worst.

A hand took him under the arm and lifted. The world tilted a whole ninety degrees and then lurched to a stop. His throat cleared, and another violent cough shook him. He was sitting now, legs outstretched, almost at the dock’s edge. Jase stood still for a long moment. Then, slowly, he sat down beside him.

Gavin didn’t want to look at his murderer, but he did it anyway. Jase’s face was streaked with tears, his eyes painted red with grief. “What’re you crying for?” Gavin asked. His own voice was unfamiliar to him. “You’re the one who did this.”

Jase closed his eyes. “I know.” His hand slipped into his coat, and he withdrew a pewter flask. He uncapped it with his thumb and took a swig. His nose and lips curled about the drink. He swallowed, coughed sharply, and hissed out a cloud of breath. Then he offered the flask to Gavin.

An inappropriate laugh splattered from Gavin’s lips. “I know that face,” he managed to say. “Dublin paint thinner, right?”

Jase nodded, his face dreadfully rearranged. “I brought it for you.”

It must’ve been the blood loss, but Gavin found himself malleable to the gesture. With a shaking, blood-slicked hand, he reached out and took the flask. It was the heaviest thing Gavin had ever held in his life. With a great effort, he lifted it to his lips and took a long pull. Irish whiskey, bourbon, and absinthe flooded his mouth, erasing the taste of metal. When he swallowed, it felt like he was being sliced from gullet to gizzard. His flame burned a little brighter for that moment. He was going to miss the stuff. He moved to pass the flask back, but Jase waved a hand at him.

“Finish it,” Jase said. “It’s your last drink.”

That was true. Normally he’d have felt bad, but he permitted himself to be a little greedy this once. And so he drained the rest of the flask. The scorch of magma went down his throat and came right back out his eyes. It blurred the sight of the mess he’d become. His whole front was stained thick with blood. He couldn’t even staunch it with his hemomancy. Hell, even the anger was bleeding away.

For a few moments, the two sat side by side, gazing out at the black waves rolling quietly beneath them. Coral’s screams had receded to a quiet whimpering behind them. The world sure was peaceful on the way out. “Can you do me a favor?” Gavin asked.

Jase sniffed once and nodded. “Name it.”

“Take care of Lena. I dragged her into this, so I did.”

“I will. You have my word. Whatever that’s worth to you.”

His chest swelled with a wet breath. The pain was finally starting to manifest. His lungs felt like they’d been doused in gasoline and set alight. “Coral,” he said, her name saturated with his own blood. “I’m sorry. I did what I could. And I failed you. This is my fault. Please don’t be hating me.” He couldn’t tell if her silence was because she was paralyzed with horror or because his voice was too weak to carry.

Shoulders still slumped, Jase rose slowly to his feet and placed a hand on Gavin’s shoulder. The sensation was fading in and out, flickering through the dark. “I think it’s time,” Jase said. “Any last words?”

Another hacking cough brought a thick bubble of that metal taste to his tongue. “Coral,” he said, this time as loud as he could. “Survive.”

A soft click precipitated a deafening bang, and then silence, forever.