Page 17 of Vilest Things
“Otta Avia,” Galipei interrupts.
In an instant, Anton swivels around, rearing with shock. “Whatdid you just say?”
“I said, it’s Otta,” Galipei says. “She’s here.”
CHAPTER 6
Midnight strikes in the Palace of Union. Floor by floor, the electric lights flicker on when they sense movement cutting through the sleeping hallways, chasing away the hazy indigo for Anton to march through the north wing, his heart pounding in his ears.
It’s Otta. She’s here.
The moment he had access to the royal vault, Anton made sure that Otta’s medical bills were paid, made sure there wasn’t anything outstanding that could prompt the hospital to clear her bed when they couldn’t reach him. He hasn’t checked in on her otherwise—he’s been a little preoccupied—but he couldn’t have imagined that she wouldwake up. The yaisu sickness is incurable. The doctors have never changed their tune. Although she wouldn’t get better, she wouldn’t get worse. A lifelong coma was no consolation, but it was still enough for Anton to clutch to, day after day. At least he had her. At least she wasn’t entirely gone.
“August, one moment.”
Galipei is calling after him. Just now in the surveillance room, Anton was quick to react, pushing into the corridor to make his way to the infirmary and see for himself. Calla has either taken another route or decided not to check onthis matter, because it’s only the palace guard at his heels. And Galipei. Galipei, incessantly needing to speak to him, even while Anton was holed up in his quarters, unwilling to see visitors all evening. Honestly, Galipei should have just passed the message to a guard on duty instead of asserting self-importance, instead of waiting around the hallways for a personal conversation and delaying delivery because Anton exited his quarters in the other direction to avoid him. Look at how quickly news about Calla’s arrival in the palace breached a straight line into his ear as soon as the guards on duty started muttering with the rumors.
“It can wait, surely,” Anton says.
When Galipei finally catches up, his posture is stiff and his shoulders are slouched. Anton understands the restlessness, the confusion spilling off him. But Galipei Weisanna does not yet suspect that his charge has been invaded. Anton needs to keep it that way.
“It cannot,” Galipei intones, lowering his voice so only Anton can hear him. “I’m sorry, August. But at least Kasa is gone. Even if she tells someone—”
Anton should know better than to react. Unfortunately, he isn’t quick enough to stop himself from giving Galipei a bewildered look, and Galipei cuts himself off midsentence. In that gesture alone, Galipei must know something isn’t right. Before he’s noticed the precise color of Anton’s eyes, before he’s registered any of Anton’s strangeness in August’s body, he’s picked up on this one discrepancy, and Galipei simply stops talking.
“Did you bring her here?” Anton asks, trying to smooth over his error.Did you have something to do with this?he wants to ask instead.Did August?
“Not my doing,” Galipei says shortly.
Anton pulls his loose sleeves back. All this fabric, gathering at his elbows, restricting his every movement. He’s practically choking in it, the silk and the gold, the layers and the cover-ups.
Two guards pull open the doors to the infirmary. Inside, the clinical space is twice as large as any of the palace bedrooms, and for a moment, Anton doesn’teven know where to look. He steps in. The soft, warm-hued bulbs on the walls illuminate the room with small circles, mimicking candlelight. Piles of blackened towels sit in the corner. Blood. He smells it despite the stink of bleach emanating from the marble floors too.
She almost blends in with the sheets. In the farthest bed by the red-curtained window, there’s the shape of Otta Avia, her black hair poking out from the white. It’s a familiar sight: an unmoving Otta, connected to the tubes and lines that keep her affixed to her last gasp of life.
Except here, there’s nothing attached to her.
Here, when he draws to a stop at her bedside, her eyes fly open.
“Otta,” he says; he exalts. He doesn’t realize he’s dropped to his knees until he feels the faint echo of pain.
Otta sits up hesitantly. Their eyes lock, and in the flickering light, it appears that her irises are yellow instead. He thinks of Calla, off elsewhere in the palace. When Otta blinks, her eyes return to the same black shade they’ve always been.Perhaps, Anton considers dimly,this is an imposter. It would be more believable that someone has conducted dirty work and planted a fraud in the palace. That they manipulated qi to invade Otta’s dying body. Far more believable than Otta Avia suddenly awake and well again.
Then Otta takes a stuttering breath, her tears welling over in an instant, and Anton doesn’t need to bring the firelight close to erase his doubts. Seven years later, fresh out of an eternal sleep, and she can still summon tears on demand. His vision distorts and blurs, trying to reconcile the present before him with the memories he has replayed over and over: of the days when they got in trouble across the palace, caught in someone’s quarters, found where they weren’t supposed to be, and Otta always got them out scot-free with the howl of her crying.
“Hey, hey, you’re all right,” he urges. “You’re safe, Otta.”
He reaches to cup her face. He’s afraid that if he presses too hard, she’lldisintegrate like a drawing in sand, but Otta is firm beneath him. Her sobs ease, a flash of confusion deepening the line between her brows.
“I hear you woke in the morgue,” Galipei says from behind Anton’s shoulder. “That must have been frightening.”
Otta sniffles. “It was so awful,” she whispers. “All I could see was darkness. I felt the fire.”
“The fire?” Anton echoes. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” She twitches, then nudges Anton’s hand away. “Don’t ask me to explain. I don’t know!”
The infirmary is cold. Anton doesn’t know why he’s only noticing it now. It prickles his skin, up and down his arms. He glances over his shoulder, silently warning Galipei not to say anything more. Galipei, unrepentant, folds his arms across his chest.
