Fatefall - 33

Chapter 33 - Adrian

I don’t remember much of my time with the Fates. They kept me alive for reasons I still don’t understand. Maybe it was revenge. Maybe it was leverage. Whatever the case, I spent five months living in a fever dream.

Asher deserved more than an unmarked grave.

He should’ve had a statue or monument built in his liking. Or maybe a library named after him. Asher used to love reading---especially stories about myths and legends. 

Adrian rested his head against the Asher’s gravestone.

He knew that his brother’s body was still preserved deep beneath the earth thanks to Koda’s Grace, but the thought just made his stomach churn more. It served as a reminder that Asher was still waiting for a proper sendoff.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

He’d made no progress on finding Asher’s killer---in fact, it was almost likely he’d forgotten about the real reason he’d joined the Tournament. And the notes he’d been so meticulously crafting about each and every suspect he could possibly think of? Useless. He had no leads. No idea who could’ve possibly killed his brother.

It had to be someone who knew the royal family well. Asher had been found in the back of the library on his favorite armchair, curled up with a book about a prince who explored unknown lands. It seemed like a cruel sort of irony. 

There had been no sign of struggle either. Koda couldn’t run a complete investigation, but he believed the cause of death to be poison, and there was no way of knowing for sure who could’ve had access to Asher’s food and drink. The best they could do was preserve Asher’s body and pray that the king didn’t find out until after the Tournament was over.

“Just a little longer,” Adrian whispered to the grave. “And then I promise Aida and I will tell father. I’ll make sure they remember you, Ash.”

He opened his bag and pulled out a book, flipping to the marked page. “Maybe today we’ll finish this story, yeah? I’ll try to get another one of those princely adventure books next. I know how much you like those.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. And then he began to read.

Adrian didn’t know how long he sat at the unmarked grave and read aloud to his dead brother. His voice went hoarse but he kept reading anyway. 

Was it foolish to be undisguised and out in the open? Probably, but Adrian was done caring. There were only two teams left in the Tournament, no one could force him to withdraw at this point. As for the disappearing competitors? He couldn’t care less if anyone tried to kidnap him.

He did finish the book, and just as he was closing the pages he realized he wasn’t alone.

“I guess we had the same idea,” Aida commented. She was leaning against a tree a few yards away, a thick book with a dragon on the cover in hand. 

She was wearing a dark cloak and boots which told Adrian that she’d probably snuck out of the castle without telling anyone her whereabouts. That explained why there were no guards. 

Without warning, she strolled over to Adrian and slapped him across the face.

“Wow,” Adrian grumbled, rubbing at his cheek as Aida plopped down beside him, pleased with herself. “Nice to see you too.”

“Oh, quit complaining. If I really wanted to get my payback, I would’ve stabbed you,” Aida said. She fiddled with the royal ring on her finger, a habit that Adrian knew meant she was nervous. “Seriously, Adi, I haven’t heard from you in nearly a week.”

Adrian winced, knowing it was true. “I’m sorry, but I was kind of in the middle of something.”

“The Tournament,” Aida sighed. “Believe me, I know. It’s all father ever talks about.”

“How is he? And mother?”

Aida glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Father’s overwhelmed by the disappearances of both the competitors and now ordinary citizens too. He’s constantly meeting with the Golden Guard and noblemen and the sponsors of the Tournament. At least it means he’s not worrying about Asher’s condition.” 

She practically spat the last word and Adrian couldn’t blame her. Their father believed that Asher was sick, which was the only lie they’d been able to come up with that would keep him out of Asher’s rooms. 

“Mother, on the other hand, has been worried sick about you,” Aida continued. Her voice turned sharp. “She thinks that you’re either dead or responsible for the disappearances, Adi.”

The words sank deeper than a blade. 

“I thought you were covering for me,” he whispered.

“I was,” Aida said, sounding exasperated. “Fates, Adrian, I tried. I told mother you were at the university on an extended assignment, and when she didn’t believe me I told her you were taking an extended trip to grieve over Asher. That lie lasted two days before she was back to hunting for you. She kept asking for you and I think father believes she’s feverish.”

Guilt burned in his gut. “I’m sorry--”

“You weren’t there when she started screaming for you in the middle of a meal. Completely hysterical. She threw her plate on the floor and refused to eat until you came to dinner too.” Aida shuddered, consumed by the memory. “Or what about yesterday, when she confronted me to say she knew where you were? She claimed you were a murderer, told me she was ashamed to have a son like that. And when I told her that she was wrong, that you’re just busy? She ran down the halls screaming that both of her sons had deserted her.”

Aida’s tears only made Adrian feel worse.

He’d been a fool to think he could hide the Tournament from his parents. He should’ve just been clear from the beginning instead of allowing Aida to shoulder the responsibility of maintaining dual identities. 

His mother…he’d known she was declining for a while now. There were always rumors in the palace, and the queen’s waning sanity was one of them. Adrian could deny it all he wanted, but that didn’t change anything. And who had been forced to suffer through most of her episodes? Aida. 

He couldn’t find the words for what he wanted to say. Thank you and I’m sorry weren’t adequate enough. It’ll all be okay was just plain false. 

“I’ll tell them,” he decided at last, dropping his gaze. “I’ll tell mother and father that I’m competing. And I’ll say I forced you to lie for me so that you don’t take the blame and--”

“I’m not worried about getting in trouble,” Aida mumbled. “I was worried about you, Adi.”

He froze. “Me?”

Aida punched him weakly. “Yes, you. You’re my brother. And when I think given the circumstances, I have every right to worry. I’ve alright lost one brother, I’m not losing another one.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” Adrian assured her.

“How can you promise that?” Aida cried, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t do this anymore, Adi. I can’t spend every day wondering if you’re ever coming home. Please forfeit the Tournament. I’m sure father can pull a few strings--”

“Aida,” Adrian cut her off, laying a hand on her shoulder. He wanted to say more---to remind her that there was only one more Trial. To explain that he wasn’t going to abandon his teammates, or his search for Asher’s killer, for that matter. Yet the words died in his throat and he was left with heavy silence.

“Sorry,” Aida mumbled after a while. “I shouldn’t be burdening you with this--”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” Adrian said. “You’re right---I’ve put way too much pressure on you---and mother---by joining this stupid competition. We can go home right now and I’ll tell our parents everything. No more lying, no more hiding. Fates, I’ll even tell father about Asher.”

“Don’t,” Aida said. “Father will break if he finds out, and with the disappearances, he’ll probably go crazy. You think you’ve seen him paranoid…” She shivered. “But coming clean about competing? That’s probably for the best.”

Adrian wanted to disagree, but he couldn’t. He’d have to face the wrath of his parents someday, but that was something he’d been ignoring in hopes the problem would go away. He couldn’t force Aida to keep up this charade, though. It wasn’t fair to her. “I’ll do it,” he promised. 

“When?” Aida pressed.

Adrian thought for a moment. “At the Fete.” At Aida’s protest, he began to explain. “It’s in three days. I’ll have to be unmasked the anyway, and if it’s public--”

“Then mother will have a fit in public,” Aida said, crossing her arms. 

“Which will make it genuine,” Adrian said. “The public will be more upset if they think that our parents rigged the Tournament by allowing me to compete. If mother and father show their surprise, it’ll pin the blame on me rather than them. And with all the disappearances, we need all the public support we can get.”

“Okay,” Aida relented. “I’ll cover for you the best I can until then.”

“Thank you. I will pay you back for this.”

Aida laughed. “I want all of your dessert for the rest of your life.”

“Whoa, I think that’s going a bit too far--”

“Fine, you can keep your candies, but I call all of the pastries,” Aida said. 

Adrian sighed. He’d be glad when this whole thing was over and he could go back to his normal life. Or as normal as life could be for a prince.

“So,” Aida continued. “Tell me about the Tournament.”

“I thought you wanted nothing to do with it,” Adrian pointed out.

“I want to know the names of everyone who beat you up during the Trials so I can congratulate them,” Aida said with a smirk. 

Adrian rolled his eyes but began to recount the Trials so far. He hadn’t spoken to Aida since the night he’d brought a delirious Poppy to the castle and asked Aida to care for her. Even then, they’d barely had a chance to talk.

He described his teammates and how his reluctance to work with them had turned to admiration for their talents. He was somewhat surprised to find that he actually cared for his teammates. They weren’t just a means to an end---he wanted their team to win, and he wanted his friends to get all the good things they deserved.

Adrian briefly detailed the events of both Trials---how he’d met Sophie, the whole anti-Grace poison debacle with Hunter, the interrogation after the missing competitors, Sage’s capture and Nakoa’s sacrifice from the second Trial, and his renowned attempts at finding Asher’s killer. He told her about his conflicted feelings with Poppy, knowing Aida wouldn’t mock him for his foolishness when it came to girls. He even confessed what he had seen on 13th and Hemlock streets, back on the night he’d carried Poppy home. 

It wasn’t exactly a happy memory. 

Twelve hooded people, walking slowly as though they were sleep-walking. The one at the front of the line seemed like the only one awake, and his posture stiffened when he caught sight of Adrian and Poppy. Adrian froze too, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as the sleepwalkers approached. His mind seemed to muddle itself but his Grace prickled at the base of his spine. He recalled a vague conversation, the man calling him a disappointment and then turning his attention on Poppy.

Adrian didn’t know exactly what had gone down on the street, but he had a guess. The man had been using a Grace on him, but which one? Adrian wished his own Grace had been advanced enough to sense the differences between them. Still, the man must’ve been powerful if Adrian couldn’t remember what all had happened. He knew the man had threatened Poppy but had Adrian made a deal? Or had he managed to fend the man off?

Aida didn’t have any idea either, nor did she have any advice on how to narrow Adrian’s list of suspects. 

They talked strategy for nearly four hours.

It occurred to Adrian just how hectic this Tournament was. Missing competitors, death threats to the royal family, Asher’s death, the poison that removed Graces, stolen Graces. Were they all connected? And why now? 

As for suspects… Adrian had no idea where to start. He still didn’t trust Hunter and the other assassins, but that was just a feeling. King Hector wouldn’t have killed his own son, and if he wanted the Graces Koda took, he could’ve just asked for them. Sage’s father could have taken the Graces for his own son, and he had adequate reason to want the Tournament over if he knew of Sage’s participation, but why would he kill Asher or steal competitors? It could have been any of them or all of them or none of them. The idea was overwhelming. 

Aida’s response wasn’t exactly helpful either. 

“Go with your gut,” she repeated for probably the twentieth time. It had been her answer for what to do about Poppy (she promised to look into super strong Graces and glowing people) and the same for when he’d asked if she had any idea of what the third Trial should be and how he should prepare.

“I can’t just go with my gut,” he argued. “If I’m going to investigate any of these suspects, I have to be right. If I get caught and I’m wrong…” He didn’t need to finish.

Aida bit her lip. “I don’t think it’s father, for the record.”

Adrian didn’t either, but the possibility was still out there. 

“And as much as I detest Franklin, I doubt he killed Asher. It’s not exactly his style,” Aida said. “Besides, he’s a dangerous person to have as an enemy.”

Adrian didn’t bother to mention that since he was Sage’s teammate, he was probably already on Franklin’s list of enemies.

“So the assassins,” he clarified. “I just…they don’t have any motive whatsoever. Why kill Asher? Why steal the Graces or competitors---especially when some of the missing competitors are assassins?”

“They could’ve killed Asher on commission,” Aida offered. “And tell me why any assassin wouldn’t want to be more powerful with extra Graces. Stealing their own competitors takes the suspicion off of them, and they can use the other competitors as slaves. Maybe they think they’re losing and they want to call off the Tournament so they don’t lose their Graces.”

“If they have extra Graces, they don’t need to worry about losing theirs,” Adrian pointed out.

“I don’t see you coming up with explanations,” Aida huffed.

“Fine,” Adrian said. “I’ll look into the assassins.” He paused. “How exactly am I supposed to investigate people who are trained to kill without getting myself murdered?”

Aida’s expression was grim. “I may have an idea.”

Adrian had to wait until the next night to begin investigating the assassins, which meant a long day of enduring a minefield of emotions. 

He’d made a brief appearance at the castle, allowing his parents to see him before slipping into his bedroom and locking the doors. For the next few days, his parents would believe he was studying intensely. Of course, sleeping at the castle meant he was late for breakfast with his teammates.

Which meant walking into the middle of a very awkward conversation regarding the events of the previous night.

Sage and Jett’s not-date-night had ended with a bruised Sage and five nearly dead boys on the beach. Both of them seemed reluctant to talk about what had actually happened, and Adrian suspected that there was more to their supposed “brawl” with Sage’s classmates than they let on. 

As for Poppy and Nakoa…

Nakoa’s eyes were swollen and her lips pressed into a thin line. She carried herself with stiffness and discomfort. 

Adrian had tried to approach Ansel’s disappearance with sensitivity, but he found himself asking questions. There had to be a logical explanation for this---preferably one he could use as proof against the assassins. His probing, however, seemed to upset Nakoa more and she ended up storming away from the table, leaving Poppy to share all of the facts with Adrian.

When Poppy was finished, Adrian quickly recounted his conversations with Aida regarding suspects and he mentioned his decision to investigate the assassins. This was met with hesitation from Poppy, though she agreed that the assassins were probably just as valid suspects as the king and Sage’s father. When she asked what he planned to do about it, he lied and said he was unsure.

Really, he just didn’t want Poppy to have to face the assassins again. He knew how much they hated her, and he couldn’t bear the thought of them harming her for her friendship with him. 

He paced and read articles and did minor research most of the day, and then waited for Jett and Sage to fall asleep in the evening. It took longer than Adrian would have liked, as Jett moved Sage’s bed closer to his for “emotional support”---an ordeal that took way longer than necessary. 

Once Adrian was sure that Jett and Sage were asleep, he slipped out of the room and into the sitting area of the apartment, only to find the lights still on and Nakoa curled up on the couch. Her eyes were fixed blankly on the wall.

“It’s a bit late to be headed to the castle,” Nakoa noted.

Adrian shrugged. “I lost track of time.”

Nakoa met Adrian’s eyes, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Where are you actually going?”

“Nowhere,” Adrian answered automatically. 

Nakoa raised a brow. Her early sadness seemed to be gone, replaced by an emptiness that scared Adrian. 

“I’m just going to look into a lead I have regarding my brother,” he confessed when Nakoa didn’t move. “I’ll be back in a few hours, so I’d really appreciate if you don’t tell the others--”

“I’m coming with you,” Nakoa insisted. Adrian opened his mouth to argue, but Nakoa cut him off. “Whatever you’re planning, you’re probably going to end up getting yourself killed if you go alone.”

However accurate that statement was, Adrian didn’t really want Nakoa coming with him. Her current emotional state would leave her reckless and irrational. 

Plus, he didn’t want anyone else getting hurt if his theories were correct. 

“Let me put it this way,” Nakoa continued, noticing Adrian’s hesitation. “I will follow you regardless of whether or not you want me to, so it’s really just a matter of if you tell me where we’re going or if I go into the situation blind.”

A valid---and rather irritating---point. Come to think of it, Nakoa’s Grace would make her a useful companion. She could look back in time and eavesdrop on the conversations of the assassins, not to mention scrying to see their current whereabouts. Considering the fact that Adrian didn’t even have a plan, bringing Nakoa along might be a good choice.

“Fine,” he relented at last. “But you’ll be standing guard while I do the real investigating.”

Nakoa cracked her knuckles. “Does standing guard entail punching people?”
“I’ll tell you what,” Adrian sighed. “If you behave yourself tonight, I’ll take you down to the fighting rings tomorrow and you can take your anger out there.”

Nakoa seemed pleased with that offer.