J. Mitchell - Midnight City

It was hard to say how old Lenore Rowe was. Mira so rarely saw anyone older than twenty, her frame of reference was skewed, and Lenore never disclosed her age. But if she had to guess, Mira would say somewhere close to thirty. Her eyes were clear and radiant green, and whenever Mira had looked at them, she couldn’t help but bitterly think that they were how her own might appear, if not for the slowly spreading presence of the Tone.

Lenore was tall and thin, with long, shimmering black hair that fell down her back in a wide, loose braid. She wore a gray dress lined with a colorful floral print, which clung to all the right spots. Lenore was very aware she was a woman in a world of girls, and she used it to her advantage, both within and without the Gray Devils. She was beautiful and feminine, there was no doubt, but the beauty was tempered with a cold hardness that always kept you at arm’s length, no matter how close you thought you might be.

Lenore’s gaze found Mira and slowly scanned her up and down. Her expression was unreadable, as usual, and she said nothing as she slowly walked closer. Lenore always moved meticulously, almost in slow motion, and there was something mesmerizing in it. Mira swallowed as the woman approached. This was a moment she had, in some ways, looked forward to since she’d left. A confrontation, a reckoning of sorts, but now that it was here, all she felt was dread.

Lenore had no weapons that Mira could see, there was nothing in her hands, but with Mira’s wrists tied behind her back, she had no real way of defending herself regardless. She was completely at Lenore’s mercy, and that was never a good place to be.

When Lenore was close enough, Mira flinched as the woman took the last few steps quickly… and unexpectedly threw her arms around Mira, pulling her close into an embrace.

It took a moment for the shock to wear off and for Mira to realize what was happening. Amazingly, Lenore was hugging her.

“Mira,” Lenore said softly, stroking the back of her red hair. “I am… so sorry. For everything.”

It was surreal. Lenore held her another moment, then slowly pulled away, and Mira saw that Lenore’s eyes had the beginnings of tears in them.

“I never said to tie her,” Lenore said, looking at Mira’s hands with agitation. “Take the ropes off.” The guards jumped forward and quickly cut the ropes free. When she was untied, Mira rubbed her wrists. Ever since the first part of her journey with Holt, she’d come to really hate having her hands bound. “Now leave us,” Lenore commanded.

The two boys, dressed in gray, closed the doors behind them as they left, and Mira and Lenore considered each other in the quiet room.

“Let me see you,” Lenore said, moving closer. “I know it’s only been months, but it feels like years. You look good, darling. A little tired, perhaps, but still good. And your hair is longer. I always told you to try it like that, do you remember? I like it.”

Lenore’s clear green eyes held Mira in their gaze a few more seconds; then she moved casually toward a cabinet along one of the walls. On it sat glasses and a carafe of clear water with strips of limes and lemons floating inside. She poured some of the drink into a glass.

“Water?” Lenore handed it to Mira, but Mira studied it hesitantly. Who knew what may have been put in it.

Lenore read the source of Mira’s hesitation sadly. “How far we’ve come from where we were.” She took the water from Mira’s hand and drank a sip before handing it back. The look Lenore gave her almost made Mira feel ashamed. Almost. She took a deep drink, and it was good, the citrus flavors sparkling in her mouth, and she realized just how thirsty she was. She drank more.

Lenore held something up to show her. It was the photograph of Mira’s father. “I had them link the artifacts to the picture. Of all that you left, it was the only thing that was irreplaceable, and the one I was sure you would take if you ever came back. I know how much it meant to you.”

Lenore handed it to Mira, and she pondered the little girl frozen inside it, on the man’s shoulders. She would be there forever, and there was something comforting about that.

“It’s a nice composition,” Lenore said. “Your mother had a good eye—I wish I could have known her.”

Mira remained silent. She still wasn’t sure what to make of all this, of Lenore’s sympathy and tenderness, two traits she didn’t often exhibit.

“How did you get inside?” Lenore asked. “The front gate has been sealed for hours, and the Rectifiers you built are still there, so you didn’t use a Shroud.”

Mira knew she would have to talk eventually, no matter what. It might as well be now. “Cesar was very eager to help,” Mira said.

Lenore thought the comment through, putting the pieces together. “So. Los Lobos know tunnels that connect to our cavern. I shouldn’t be surprised—they know the Crawlway better than anyone.” Lenore smiled at the thought. “Still, once word reaches the city that you’ve returned home, I’m not sure Cesar will be as enthusiastic.”

“Returned home?” Mira asked.

Lenore contemplated Mira carefully, weighing her thoughts. “Before you left, I handled things… poorly,” she said. “Beyond poorly, and it’s something I regret. You were more than a faction member to me, Mira, you were… family. And family doesn’t do to each other the things I did to you.”

Mira stared back at Lenore, unsure what to think. They were words she never expected to hear, and the skepticism, she was sure, showed in her eyes.

“You don’t trust me,” Lenore continued. “I probably wouldn’t either. I did some very unpleasant things, after all.”

“Unpleasant?” Mira’s reaction was incredulous. “You accused me of Point Fabrication, Lenore. You stripped my Points and had me declared Unmentionable. You threatened to torture and kill my best friend.”

“I know,” Lenore replied evenly. “I’m not going to pretend what I did wasn’t wrong. I want to make amends, as best I can.”

“And what? I’m just supposed to believe that?” Mira asked.

Lenore sighed, looked away. “I knew you’d return, Mira. You’ve never been able to leave things unfinished. My hope was that when you did, Ben would be here. If you could hear it from him, it would make it so much easier to convince you.”

Hearing Ben’s name sent tremors of dread down her spine. “Where is he?” Mira asked.

“Set free.” Lenore smiled. “He still has his Points.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You must have gone to the Scorewall, to see your own name if nothing else. Did you see Ben’s there with yours? Did you?” Mira remembered the absence of his name in the Unmentionables box, and she felt the first stirrings of hope in her mind. “All you have to do is check the wall and you’ll see his name, and his Points. He’s alive, Mira… and still a Gray Devil.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Mira said. “ Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”

“He’s leading an expedition.”

“Into the Strange Lands? For what?”

“For Points,” Lenore replied.

“For Points ? That doesn’t make any sense. Not unless he’s going…” She faded off as the answer occurred to her.

“The Severed Tower, Mira. He’ll be the first Gray Devil ever to enter it and return. You, if anyone, know how many Points that would be worth.”

Indeed, Mira did. A massive amount. No Gray Devil Freebooter had ever been to the Severed Tower and survived. If it could be done, the faction would gain enough Points to solidify its hold as the Prime Mover for years to come. But it was a big if. Less than half a dozen people had ever even made it inside the Tower, let alone returned. Navigating the core was essentially suicide.