Chapter 107: Chapter 51: Darkness to light

> “Compared to his sister, Duff is still soft-spoken, thoughtful, and perhaps a bit naive. His wife and Lorna also stand on opposite sides of the mirror. His children take after their parents and this means that an internecine conflagration will be inevitable. I must prepare contingencies.”

The cavernous room fell silent as White Hilt dropped harmlessly on the mat only a few inches behind me. Perhaps everyone was still in a daze from watching the fight, but for whatever reason, no one moved an inch, so in that vacuum, I took charge.

I caught Emma’s slacken body before it could hit the ground and then pressed Curtana’s blade against her wound.

She let out a blood-curdling scream as I saw the Relic pulse red with heat, and I almost screamed too from the adrenaline, from the fight being over, from what I had done. Somehow Beatrice was already at my side, applying some sort of bandage to Emma’s wrist after I had removed Curtana.

“If anyone has a semblance of alchemy healing expertise, now would be a good time to get the fuck down here!” she barked at the silent crowd and after a moment, the New Amsterdam Third Seat stood up and trotted over to us.

“Hybridized gotu kola for the wound and resin from the oldest Boswellia sacra tree in Africa for the pain,” he said, extending his palm to reveal a large leaf and a clump of a milky substance. We quickly wrapped the leaf around Emma’s wrist and then forced the resin into her mouth, and half conscious, she instinctively began to chew.

“We’ve all heard the tales of the lost Relic, of the Blade That Was Betrayed, but truly never believed that the day would come when it would-”

“Save the grand speech for when someone isn’t about to die from sepsis,” said Beatrice, “and go get an ambulance.”

The Third Seat stared in disbelief at Beatrice, but eventually nodded and motioned to Balthasar, who dashed out of the drill hall.

The remains of Emma’s hand had somehow turned into a pile of black dust, her rings scattered in the middle of it, and White Hilt beside them. I wrapped them all in her torn-up t-shirt and placed the fabric package next to her, as if that would provide her any measure of comfort in her current state.

Within minutes, a pair of paramedics burst into the drill hall, ignoring our weird assembly, the giant sword, Curtana, everything really. They picked up Emma in one fell swoop, strapped her to a gurney, and wheeled her out as quickly as they had entered. As soon as she was gone, the strange energy in the room dissipated, and everyone began yelling at each other, before Dalia took off one of her earrings and threw into the air several feet above her head, at which point it exploded in a blinding flash of blue light.

“Enough,” she said. “The Trial is over. And now we must pick up the pieces of what we all have wrought. I move for a full inquest into J.P.’s relationship with the Van Asch Corporation.”

The Texan, still stunned at Emma’s defeat and his plans going up in smoke, stood slack jawed as Lucca seconded and the motion carried unanimously with two abstentions.

“The next order of business,” said Dalia, “is the dispensation of the spoils. Now, Ms. Patel is not in any state to relinquish the vial of Dragon’s blood, but when she is, we hope there will be no unpleasantries. Finally, as a show of good faith, Ty and I have decided that she will resign her Seat-”

“What-” said the bewildered teen.

“-effective immediately.”

Ty stared wide-eyed at her mother, her body tense from hearing for the first time that she was being forced out of the Guild. But her moment of agita passed quickly, and rather than making an enormous scene, she nodded and stood to address the rest of us.

“Yes,” she said. “This was only meant to be a temporary arrangement. And its course has run.”

“It has,” said Dalia. “Now, with the conclusion of this summer diversion, we have work that needs doing. The Second Seat of the New Amsterdam Table must be filled and preparations will need to get underway soon so that the Gauntlet can begin in the fall and then-”

The world suddenly lost focus, and I blinked several times to right myself, but the blurriness would not relent. I looked down at my arms to find that I was shaking uncontrollably, and the last thing I remember before passing out was Dalia matter-of-factly yelling, “Call them back.”

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All was peaceful, all was calm.

I was in a meadow.

No, a field.

It was a soccer field.

I was playing in a game in Prospect Park. I was 12, and the score was tied. I dribbled up the middle, defenders trying to swarm me like ants after a piece of food. I deked and weaved my way through them and passed to my winger, who drew the attention away as I continued my journey upfield. The cross came a bit high, but I was ready. Timing my jump perfectly, I connected my forehead to the ball and sent it through the diving keeper’s outstretched hands. My teammates mobbed me and when the whistle blew a minute later, we all let out a big whoop. I looked over to the sidelines, to where my mom had been standing only a few minutes prior, but there was only an empty space.

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She hadn’t come home that night or the next morning, and by the time I saw her again later in the week, the exhilaration of the goal had dissipated. I think she apologized at some point, but this had been the period where we hadn’t really been talking much after she had given me her locket for my birthday. The locket that I had hated. The locket that had changed everything. The locket that-

I lurched awake and the immediacy of the present pushed aside the distant past. Every part of me was screaming at my brain, trying to convince it they were the thing that hurt the most. Looking around, I discovered that attached to my body were an innumerable number of IVs, tubes, and devices I had never seen before, which were, in turn, all connected to a dozen blinking screens and monitors. But instead of the rest of the expected trappings, like a nurses’ shift whiteboard, or a bulky CRT TV, my bed had been placed against the brick wall of a long windowless hallway. And next to me, in an equally hooked-up state, was Emma.

“Am in two-thirds of a hospital room?” I asked.

“Something like that,” said Emma, who only looked to be in slightly better shape than me. “It’s about time you woke up. Been right boring here by myself for the last two weeks.”

“I’ve been out for two weeks?” I asked. “How is that possible?”

I tried to sit up from my reclined position, but my muscles were not having it, and I slumped back down as the equipment next to me started beeping uncontrollably.

“From what I gathered while you were out, sounds like you went through quite the ordeal getting ready for our fight. And during it, as well. Not sure how you shook off White Hilt so easily, but I guess I shouldna underestimated you. You’re full of surprises.”

Emma laughed before being overcome by a coughing fit that sent her own monitors into a tizzy.

“What’s the point of all of this?” I said. “Is someone going to come running in if we flatline?”

“Eventually,” she said. “There’s a nurse at 8 a.m. and one at 8 p.m., but they won’t tell me anything. Not where we are. Not when we can leave. ”

“Fantastic,” I said. “Listen, Emma, I-”

“S’allright,” she said. “It’s done. It’s over.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I said. “These past three months, all I’ve done is convince myself that if I just do this one more thing, complete this one more task, then everything will be smooth sailing, that I’ll feel like I’ll belong. That I’ll finally get what I wanted. But that was only a hopeful delusion. I see that now. Because it’s never going to stop.”

“What do you want?” asked Emma, who pushed herself up slowly with her left hand.

“The truth,” I said. “About…”

I looked down at my chest to find my locket gone. Panic set in, and I began frantically searching the inner folders of my hospital gown, but came up empty.

“Your locket,” said Emma. “Dalia took it with her for safekeeping. Along with all of our Relics, my rings, my bag. I’m sure it’s all waiting for us with bows on back at the Guild.”

“It better be,” I said.

“What’s so special about it?”

“Nothing,” I said. “And everything. It was my mom’s. She gave it to me. I was ungrateful, hated her for it, she died, and then it turned out that the Guild’s twelfth gold token had been hidden inside the whole time.”

“And you feel like a git for pushing her away before she could tell you why she had it, yeah?” asked Emma.

“Exactly.”

“I feel the same,” she said, turning over on her side and facing me, like we were camped out on the floor at a sleepover. “My dad, he threw everything he had at finding the stupid Dragon’s blood. It consumed him. Drove away my mom, who went back to England. Drove me away. I should have gone with her but fell in with the Vultures instead. Look where that’s gotten me.”

She held up her bandaged arm and gave me a weak smile.

“There’s got to be a way,” I said, “to give you a new hand. Between the mental firepower within the Guild, Beatrice, and the Compendium, I’m sure, somehow, that we can fix everything I did.”

“Of that I’m certain,” said a familiar voice. A black-hooded figure suddenly appeared in front of our beds and undid the gold clasp holding the invisibility cloak together. It fell to the floor, revealing the blonde girl I had known as Eva, but who I now knew was always Callie, the lost Black Vulture.

“You!” said Emma, the fire from our fight returning in an instant. “Why are you still tormenting me with her?”

“It’s not what you think,” said the girl. “It’s a necessary step if we want to get your friend back.”

She pulled out a necklace that was tucked in her sweater and squeezed the shimmering jewel attached to it, and Callie fell away, much like the cloak, leaving Beatrice in her place.

“You have five seconds,” said Emma, “before I climb out of this bed and strangle you with my one good arm.”

“Don’t be angry with her,” I said. “This was all my idea.”

“Explain yourself,” she said. “Or the same goes for you.”

“The last piece clicked for me, when I saw what was happening to my friends,” I said. “Their memories were fading, and they were turning into empty shells. And then I realized. The drugs sold to the Black Vultures, the taking of Callie, Polly obtaining a glamour, despite them being banned for hundreds of years. Steve had somehow rediscovered the secret to creating them.”

“So you had your friend ‘rescue’ Callie so she could distract me during the fight?”

“Yes,” I said. “And no. I want to help bring her back. Because she’s still alive in there.”

“How do you know that?”

“Before I tell you, do you promise not to try to kill me?” I asked.

Emma looked at me like I was crazy.

“I guess I don’t have a choice,” she said. “But maybe your friend here should stand between us, just in case.”

“I’m not attacking a hospital patient,” said Beatrice. “Unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“So helpful,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Back in Boston, when we were in the lab, when the fire ... in that moment, the glamour I was wearing, she took over. She threw the vial at the fire. Whoever she was, she’s still alive. And that means…”

“Callie is too,” said Emma quietly.

“Yes,” said Beatrice. “The Compendium has an intricate page on the creation of glamours, but it’s nearly indecipherable. From what I can tell, though, is that the glamour requires the underlying essence of the individual, just a bit, to remain, once the body is transmuted into the stone. What Jen did essentially, by wearing her stone for so long, was feed the glamour so that it could reassert control. And that’s what I’m doing for your friend.”

“Why?” asked Emma. “Why are you helping me? Why do either of you care?”

“Because we’re both done being helpless, done being pulled by puppet strings,” I said. “And we want to make certain that no one else is.”

“A noble goal, to be sure,” said Emma. “But I’ve been around long enough to know that it’s never that easy. The ones on high, they won’t give up their positions so easily.”

“I know,” I said. “But we have to try.”