Page 130 of Gunslinger Girl
“Except she didn’t,” Pity said. “She was too loyal. And you’ve got no one to blame for that but yourself.”
It was a bitter shot to take, and her only reward was a slight pinching of Selene’s expression. But Pity didn’t need to read the woman’s mind to know her bullet had hit its target. Fresh guilt might have found her in that moment had there been any room left for it among the churn of emotions fixing to shred her to pieces. Even an insincere apology felt beyond her tolerance.
“So what’s going to happen?” she said instead. “When CONA finds out about Sheridan… what I did…”
“What you did?” Selene stood and steadied herself on the edge of a table, her complexion a shade paler than before, her cloak of strength slipping a little. “Patrick Sheridan, along with many others, was tragically caught in a raid executed by an overzealous branch of the Reformationists.” As weak as she looked, a sly smile broke on her lips. “Who, of course, have been receiving support from anti-Cessation elements in the east for ages, despite Cessation being outside CONA control. There are plenty of witnesses who will confirm this.” The smirk receded a bit. “It came at a high price, but this may actually quell our enemies for a time.”
A high price… Pity stared at her boots. It was too high. “And Drakos-Pryce?”
Selene scowled. “When it comes to Alanna Drakos and Jonathan Pryce, they’re getting what they wanted. And I have enough trouble to deal with on this side of the continent. I would appreciate if, as far as they know, no one in Cessation had any idea who Max was.”
“No one did.”
“Let’s hope they believe that,” Selene said. “Max, you crafty little… Between losing him and Halcyon, the Theatre will never be the same.”
“What about the Theatre… now that Halcyon…?”
Selene carefully made her way toward the door. “The Zidanes can manage things for the time being.” She looked back at Pity. “I even suggested that it might be time to retire the Finales, but when the other performers found out what Halcyon had done, they seemed inclined toward one more. A Finale for the Finales.” She paused. “It wasn’t exactly our deal, but given what you paid out for the sake of us all… well, I don’t like owing debts.”
Pity tried to muster some sympathy for Halcyon but found little to spare. “Eva and Marius will do a good job.”
“I know. And once Max is seen to, will you come back here?”
“I think…” Pity closed her eyes. Pools of blood spread across her thoughts. “Max made me promise him, once, that if this place ever started to get the best of me, I would get out. I think, for now, that’s what I need to do.”
“I understand.” Selene reached the exit. “But for all of our… disagreements, you’ve earned your place. Now and in the future, there’s a home for you here.”
Silence stood vigil as the gray container was loaded onto the train. No matter how many times Pity told herself it wasn’t a coffin, that Max was alive inside, the sight made her gut ache. Siena and Olivia stood beside her, and the rest of their party behind them. Dozens had accompanied them to Last Stop like an honor guard, tears flowing freely for both Max and Casimir’s dead.
Olivia squeezed her uninjured shoulder reassuringly. “He’ll be fine,” she said. “Max is tougher than he seems. As for Siena, she takes her coffee black with sugar, and watch her around the bourbon while she’s on the job.”
“She’s only coming along this once,” grumbled Siena.
“And I’m not going to make her coffee,” said Pity.
“Uh-huh.” Olivia stepped away. “Black with sugar, watch the bourbon. I’ll see you when you two roll back around this way again.”
As she disappeared into the crowd, Luster, Duchess, and Garland came forward.
“Take care of him,” said Duchess, embracing her. “And don’t forget to bring me something nice from Columbia, okay? But nothing yellow. Or with feathers.”
Despite it all, Pity laughed, a sound cut off as Garland swept her off her feet and kissed her. Before she had a chance to react, he released her, winking playfully. “That was for Max, when he wakes up.”
“Riiight.”
Luster’s eyes were bloodshot and wet. She stared, began to speak, and burst into tears.
When Pity put her good arm around her, she hugged back so tight that Pity felt every ache and pain all over again. “What I did back in the tunnels… I’m so—”
“Don’t even say it,” Luster begged. “I know. And don’t stay away forever. Neither of you. Whatever he is back east, Max is one of us. You make sure he knows that.”
Suddenly Pity’s cheeks were wet, too, no matter that she thought she had cried all the tears she could that day. “I know,” she choked out, wiping them away. “And I promise—”
“Jones!” Siena now hung from the door of the train. “You coming or not?”
Pity took a deep breath and started toward the bounty hunter. But with each step, a piece of her sloughed off, remaining with the people watching her go. This is what it is, she realized, to leave someplace you belong. To leave a home.
But home is on that train, too, and he needs to get moving.
