The Writer - Chapter 18

The Reader

Even when Emmeline had been prisoner in Baelle’s castle, she had never been as scared as she was now. She hardly left Newt’s bedside, and every moment consumed with constant worry over everything.  

“Miss, please,” a nurse pleaded. “You shouldn’t be in here.” 

Emmeline gave a silent nod. How many hours had she been sitting at Newt’s side now? She made no move to leave, however, and the nurse cleared her throat. 

“He’s highly contagious, miss. You really shouldn’t be in here at all,” the nurse continued. Emmeline nodded again, this time forcing her stiff muscles to support her as she climbed out of her chair. 

“Let me know if anything changes,” Emmeline said. The nurse nodded and shuffled her out the door, shutting it behind her. 

Emmeline let out a long sigh, sliding down, her back on the wood. She buried her head in her hands. It had been days since she heard his voice, saw his eyes open, and simply saw him awake. What if Newt never woke up? Or … 

Stop, she told herself. He’s going to wake up and everyone is going to be fine. Yet as much as she repeated it, she still didn’t believe it. 

“Finally got kicked out again?” Beckett’s voice stirred her out of her thoughts. He gave a small, sad grin as he offered a hand. Emmeline accepted, and Beckett pulled her to her feet, wrapping her in a hug. “Hey, it’ll all be fine. Newt’s a fighter, he’ll be back to his obnoxiously romantic lifestyle in a few hours.” 

Emmeline nodded, gratefully letting herself hug Beckett back. She exhaled a shaky breath and nodded slowly. “You’re right. I’m not gaining anything by watching him sleep.”

“Took you long enough to realize it,” Beckett grumbled, slipping away. 

The pair made their way back to the common area between the hallways, taking seats at opposite ends of the worn couch. 

“So, what have you been up to?” Emmeline asked. 

Beckett gave a shrug. “Research, trickery, and occasionally some fun.” He said fun in a way that sent shivers down Emmeline’s spine. 

“Research?” she realized. Beckett was not the type to sit in a library and browse books all day. To be honest, Emmeline wasn’t even sure if Beckett could read. His attention span was maybe a minute at the most. 

He shrugged again. “I spent a few hours looking at the mythological advancements of the kingdoms, as well as some books on Readers and on magic.” 

“No luck?” 

“Nothing besides an occasional theory that proved interesting but not true,” Beckett sighed. “It doesn’t help that the majority of the works are from last century.” 

“Then you should be able to read it, old man,” Emmeline teased. 

Beckett rolled his eyes. “You know very well that I didn’t retain any information from that time. You know pretty much everything about me.” 

Emmeline fell quiet. She did know quite a bit about Beckett. His life hadn’t really begun until they met, and even then, she had been a part of all of his adventures. But what about everyone else? Emmeline knew little about Clara, Forrest, and Coral - besides what she had gleaned from their travels and stories. 

Even Newt’s past was vague. Emmeline had known him ever since she joined the circus, but she didn’t know who his parents were or why they left him. 

Not that she knew that about herself either. 

Why did their predicament have to rely so heavily on the past? It was tiring to search through history books every time they needed something. 

Beckett was quiet when he spoke again. “How’s Newt?” 

“The same as always,” Emmeline responded with a sigh. “He still hasn’t woken up and the nurse won’t let me stay any longer.” 

The two were silent for a while more. They had barely spoken since Emmeline shared her theory about Baelle turning everyone into Readers. She was pretty sure the idea had shaken Beckett just as much as it shook her. She’d sent word to the Generals of her prediction, but as always, they disregarded it as a child’s tale. 

Emmeline knew Baelle wasn’t going to stop. The goddess would either kill enough people that Emmeline would turn herself in, or she would make enough Readers that Emmeline wasn’t needed anymore. 

The thought turned her stomach sour. Emmeline was pained to admit it, but she actually kind of liked the idea that she was the only Reader. It gave her a lot of power - which wasn’t necessarily what she wanted - but she knew that she was the only one with certain abilities and that have her security. 

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Emmeline said at last. “I can’t sit here and watch the world burn around me.” 

“Well what do you propose?” Beckett asked, for once seemingly interested in the conversation. 

Emmeline thought for a while. She wished there was a third option, one that didn’t involve Newt dying or the world dying or her turning herself in because that was her dying. Running away would be a coward’s way out, and Emmeline didn’t want to condemn the rest of the kingdoms to suffering. 

“We need a foolproof way to beat Baelle,” Emmeline answered at last. 

Beckett snorted. “You and I are the only ones who can take her down, right?” 

Emmeline gave a solemn nod. It was entirely her fault, but at least now they had the tiniest of chances to win. “We need to find her weaknesses.” 

“So let’s go see Luca.” 

Emmeline blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. She had already forgotten about Baelle’s father. Then she shook her head. “Beck, you saw how deranged he was. We don’t know if anything that comes out of Luca’s mouth is the truth.” 

“It’s our best bet,” Beckett argued. “I say that tonight we sneak out and head there. If we take the fastest stallions, we can get there and back by tomorrow night.” 

And leave Newt? Emmeline wanted to say. But she knew that Newt’s status probably wouldn’t change if they left for only a day. And besides, Luca was their best bet, no matter how crazy he was. 

“Fine,” Emmeline whispered in disbelief. “I’ll meet you at the stables at sunset.” 

Beckett gave a smile. “I’ll see you then. And you won’t regret it.” 

But Emmeline had a feeling that she definitely would regret it, especially with sunset quickly approaching. 

Emmeline missed the rush of adrenaline she always got when the thrill of going on an adventure took hold. 

As the sun slowly sank, she visited Newt one more time. He was shivering slightly, eyes moving under closed lids. She wondered briefly what he was dreaming out, but then planted a light kiss on his feverish forehead before walking out, closing the door behind her. 

Wearing her darkest cloak, she made her way down to the stable just as the sun touched the horizon. She brought only a small knapsack containing a canteen and some food. She could summon weapons at will, so she was protected there. Her key necklace dangled at her collar, bouncing on her neck when she moved. 

Beckett was, of course, already waiting. His cloak was fastened tightly around his neck and he was grinning from ear to ear. “The horses are ready.” 

He led Emmeline to the back of the stable where two horses were saddled, ready to leave. They were larger than what Emmeline normally rode, but she figured it wouldn’t be a problem. She tied her knapsack to the saddle and hoisted herself up. In a few moments, they were off. 

The horses were fast. The wind tousled Emmeline’s hair, burning her eyes and making her cloak flap behind her. 

She felt alive and in control of herself and her power. Beside her, Beckett rode with equal speed and excitement. Emmeline could feel the muscles of her horse rippling beneath her as it followed the path into the forest. 

The night was chilled and a slight fog swam through the trees. 

Emmeline and Beckett didn’t speak, the silence between them vast like the ocean. Yet she felt even more connected to him, like his presence was speaking for him. 

She felt her worries slip away in the wind, falling behind. She felt herself flying through the forest. She felt like she was in control of her fate, of her destiny, and of the world. It was empowering. 

Emmeline remembered the last time her and Beckett had been alone in the wilderness. They had been riding in a carriage to find Forrest and Coral after the whole Viridi incident. 

It had been a lighthearted conversation for the most part. Emmeline had promised that once this was all over, she and Beckett would make some good memories. She planned to keep that promise. 

But Beckett had also mentioned that he was the last heir and Emmeline was the last Reader (at least, for now. How quickly things were changing.) It felt weird to think about it that way. Emmeline and Beckett would either kill Baelle or die trying, and if they lived, their lives would be consumed by their duties. The future certainly didn’t look happy. 

Shut up, she told herself. Right now, focus on saving Newt and beating Baelle. You can mourn over your less than perfect life later. 

“You should sleep,” she heard Beckett say, interrupting her thoughts. 

She sent a glance his way. “Seriously? And fall out of the saddle and die?” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Echo. I’m always serious. Tie yourself to the saddle and I’ll watch you and make sure you don’t fall off. You’ve been sitting at Newt’s beside for days, get some rest.” 

Emmeline nodded to herself, hoping that Beckett would keep good on his promise. If not, well, there would be a dead prince and no more heir. 

She tied herself onto the saddle, wrapping her arms around her horse’s sweaty neck before letting the rocking motion of its powerful body welcome her to sleep. And as expected, only nightmares followed. 

The tiny area where the party had been before was empty. The tables and cups were gone, the ground scrubbed cleaning. The wind had died down, leaving only the frigid winter air behind. Emmeline’s breath formed clouds in front of her face, and she shivered, trying to keep warm. 

Emmeline and Beckett tied their horses to the fence posts, not bothering to bring any of their supplies. 

Beckett knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping on the soft wood. 

“Coming!” came Luca’s cheerful voice from inside. A moment later, the door swung open. Luca grinned as he saw them, like he recognized them. Maybe he did. “Friends!” 

He immediately wrapped them in a tight hug, crushing the breath out of Emmeline’s lungs. When he finally let them go, Emmeline smoothed out her shirt and pants, giving a small smile. “May we come in, sir?” 

Luca nodded happily. “Of course, darling. What’s your name again? I’m afraid I don’t quite remember - it’s been so long since I had visitors.” 

We didn’t tell him our names, Emmeline realized. And Luca had never asked. 

“My name is Emily, and this is Ben.” She sent a look at Beckett, hoping he’d play along. He gave a small nod to show he understood. 

“Emily,” Luca repeated, as if savoring the word. “What a lovely name? Oh, and let’s get you two inside before you freeze.” He ushered them inside, insisting they hang their cloaks and wipe off their boots. “Where is the rest of your crew?” 

“At home,” Beckett answered quickly. “They weren’t feeling good.” 

“Well, I give my condolences then.” And with that Luca turned around and began to hobble in the other direction. A moment later, he seemed to remember he had guests and turned to face them again. “So terribly sorry, my memory has been a bit spotty lately. But why are you here again?” 

We haven’t told him that either, Emmeline sighed. She thought for a moment, struggling to come up with a lie. 

“We’re doing a research project for school,” Beckett lied. “Mum insists we read up on the life of one of our role models, and Emily and I thought you would be perfect. I mean, you’re one of the best alchemists in the kingdoms, right?” 

Luca pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m flattered that you thought of me, but I’m afraid I won’t be much help. Alchemy has been one of the things to slip my mind over the past few years.” 

Emmeline thought of what Clara had told them, how Baelle had attacked her father but Ibenily had healed everything she could. Alchemy must’ve been lost when Baelle attacked. 

“Anyway, I certainly can’t send you home in this weather, especially considering you just arrived,” Luca sighed. Emmeline nodded in appreciation, though she understood if Luca didn’t want to impede on his hospitality any longer than necessary. 

“Thank you so much,” Emmeline said, forcing a smile. 

Beckett yawned, stretching his limbs in a way that reminded Emmeline of a cat. “Sir, I’m a bit tired from our journey. Is it okay if I - and I don’t want to be rude - rest for a bit?” He sent Emmeline a look, telling her that while he slept she needed to interrogate Luca. She didn’t want to, especially not alone. But it was the least she could do since he had watched her on the horses. 

“Of course, of course. Just follow me.” Luca hurried down the hallway in his lopsided limp, Emmeline and Beckett trailing behind him. “I’m afraid I don’t have any rooms prepared right now,” Luca explained. “I’ve been cleaning the house. Will a couch suffice?” 

“Yes,” Beckett answered gratefully. “Anything is better than the back of a horse.” 

Luca gave a small smile and pushed open a pair of doors leading into the same living room that Emmeline and her friends had occupied during their last visit. 

There were obvious changes that showed Luca’s attempt to clean. The house no longer reeked of rot, and the couches were cleaner. The walls were coated with a fresh layer of paint, or at least, they had been scrubbed thoroughly. Most noticeably, perhaps, was the missing portrait of Baelle that used to hang above the fireplace. 

Beckett yawned again, picking a couch shoved up against a wall to recline on. He closed his eyes, and what seemed like moments later, began to snore. 

Luca took a seat on another couch (how many were there?) beside a coffee table, and Emmeline to her own seat across from him. An uneasy feeling settled over her. Something was wrong, she just couldn’t place her finger on it. 

They sat in silence for a while. 

Emmeline wasn’t sure exactly how to ask Luca about his past without intruding on his privacy. How bad would it be to ask so, did you know your daughter was a literal demon in disguise? 

She decided on, “Luca, do you remember your wife?” 

He startled, his eyes widening and his mouth opening and closing a few times. “Why do you want to know?” he asked defensively. 

So maybe a little too assuming. 

Emmeline tried to recover. “I … uh … I was just curious. You’re all alone, yet you have this huge mansion. And,” she decided flattery wouldn’t hurt, “I was unsure how a lovely man like yourself could be so lonely. It’s okay, you don’t have to answer.” 

Luca relaxed, a guilty expression finding its place on his face. “I was rude as well, my dear. I’m sorry, my past is just very confusing at times.” 

Just when it seemed that Luca was going to leave it at that, he inhaled deeply. 

“I had a lovely wife, she was gorgeous.” His voice was barely a whisper. “She radiated beauty and power, intelligence and just … I don’t know. She was everything I ever aspired to be. Isabelle was her name. And when I found that she loved me back, it was like a dream come true.” His features contorted as bitterness seeped into his voice. “But love dies. She was nothing but a trickster and a liar and a…” The emotion suddenly faded, leaving him empty once again. “I’m sorry. She just wasn’t the one for me.” 

This matched everything that Emmeline knew from Clara, but she was filled with immense pity as she watched Luca. He probably didn’t remember that “Isabelle” was actually Ibenily, nor did he likely remember that she was a goddess. When he looked back at his life, all he saw was the love of his life leaving. 

And that regret had burned inside of him for years. He had tried to raise Baelle to the best of his ability as a single father, the fresh wound festering every time he saw Ibenily in Baelle. And when Baelle had turned on him, that had just sealed the nail on the coffin. 

It was a miracle that the emotion hadn’t consumed Luca. Sure, he was a husk of his former self. A lonely, old man who would die by himself because he had been in a forbidden relationship and his only child was too much for him. Still, he continued to live and to exist through the pain. 

It was inspirational, yet also angering. 

If Luca could prevail, so could Emmeline. But at the same time, how could Ibenily let this man suffer. How could Baelle do such a thing to her father? Why did no one help him? 

“You remind me of her,” Luca whispered suddenly. 

Emmeline blinked, startled out of her thoughts. “... Of who?” In her head she was pleading for his answer to not be a certain someone. 

“Of my little girl, Bella.” 

Oh no. Warning bells flashed in Emmeline’s head and her chest began to feel light and panicky. Oh no. Please no. Take it back. 

Maybe he just means that we look alike. They did have similar features, kind of. Both Emmeline and Baelle had dark hair and were about average height, if Emmeline was a slightly smaller build. 

“You two are very similar,” he continued. “Bella was a kind child, much like you.” Emmeline had to hold back a cough. “And, come to think of it, Bella had an air of mystery around her too - like you do. Like there’s something completely wrong about your portrayals.” 

He frowned, like he was trying to figure out what was off. 

Emmeline’s heart was beating a mile a minute. She knew that Luca wasn’t completely right in his mind. But first he had compared Baelle and Emmeline, and then he had told her that she had an air of mystical stuff around her. 

She was confused, but also scared. Sure, she knew at the moment she wanted to end Baelle’s reign. But when the war was over - assuming Emmeline and her friends lived - what would she do? It would be Beckett's job to rule over the lands, and maybe the other heir’s too, if they existed. 

And Emmeline, she was one of the most powerful people in the kingdoms. The demigoddesses were crazy magical too, of course, but Emmeline was the only full fledged Reader. If she wanted to rule, she could. All it would take would be one Writing and the world would be hers. What was to say that she wouldn’t end up like Baelle? Luca said Baelle was kind, and Emmeline was beginning to see certain similarities between them. 

She pushed down her panic. Now was not the time to worry about things like that. 

“Luca,” Emmeline whispered calmly. “Do you know anything that Bella wasn’t exactly … I don’t know - good at? Like, did she have any weaknesses?” 

Luca thought for a long while. “I don’t suppose she had many. She was pretty, my darling Bella. She had some friends, though I don’t know if I really approved of them.” He stopped and continued thinking for what seemed like an eternity. “Maybe her pride? Why?” 

“No reason,” Emmeline replied quickly. She already knew that Baelle was prideful, but that wasn’t exactly helpful. 

Luca frowned again, narrowing his eyes at Emmeline. She decided any more questions about Baelle or Ibenily would be considered suspicious and also rude, so she wisely kept quiet. Luca’s stare only grew harsher. “I feel like I should know you from somewhere.” 

Suddenly, Emmeline realized that her and Beckett needed to leave. Why had Luca been cleaning? He’d had visitors - other visitors. That’s why he talked about Ibenily with more authority, why he seemed meaner than last time. 

“Um, we should get going,” Emmeline said quickly, standing up. 

She was about to run for Beckett when Luca grabbed her wrist, his grip like an iron band. “But, Emily, you just got here.” The way he said her alias made her shiver.
“Bella was here,” Emmeline whispered. 

Luca dropped her in surprise, perhaps not expecting Emmeline to know that much about his daughter. She used the opportunity to scramble towards Beckett. She was shaking him awake when she heard the lock click on the door. 

Luca was standing by the handles like he was guarding them, and in his hand was a crossbow, levelled at Emmeline’s head. She sucked in a breath. 

“You’re not going anywhere.”