The Brink of Darkness (The Edge of Everything #2)

“He told us where you were,” said Zoe. “He was kind of badass about it.”

“I always liked him,” said Sylvie. “Such funny hair. Dervish seethed at him the whole way here, but Tree kept whispering kind things like, ‘You will always be baby’s mother.’ And there was another one I thought about for years because it was so sweet. What was it? Oh, I remember: ‘Your son is beautiful. I have five brothers—every one of them is as ugly as me.’ ”

Sylvie rubbed her wrists, where the manacles had stripped the skin.

“There’s a lot I want to say, but I’m still feeling woolly-headed,” she told X. “Will you stop me if I ramble?”

“No,” said X.

His mother looked at him fondly—it was amazing how every glance of hers warmed him—and continued.

“Dervish actually hummed when he chained me up to the crystal—and sang when he stuffed the rock in my mouth,” she said. “Then he put the hood over my head. The minute he was gone, I grieved over you so deeply that I didn’t even care where I was. Eventually, I convinced myself that the lords had set you free. That you had a family somewhere. I pictured you out in the real world, playing in the snow in your little-boy hat and your little-boy boots. They were like bedtime stories I told myself.” Sylvie stopped a moment. “It makes me sick that they kept a child prisoner. I’ve spent so long trying to let go of my fury at this place. My god, it comes back fast.”

“I did find a family of sorts,” said X. “I was trained to be a bounty hunter by a woman named Ripper. She was the rarest of people, though I don’t think she believed it. I speak the way I do because of her.”

“I’d love to meet her,” said Sylvie. “To thank her.”

“Ripper is gone,” said X. “Taken. I do not know where.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sylvie.

X had tried not to think about how much he missed Ripper. She occupied such a particular space in his life that he couldn’t imagine anyone replacing her. Who could replace Banger, for that matter, with his candy, his silly slang, his almost unbelievable loyalty? Who could replace the Ukrainian with his funny fits of outrage? Or Plum with his fluttering hands? Sitting with his mother at last, X was blindsided by how many people he’d lost on the way to finding her.

He said none of this out loud, not wanting to diminish the moment. Instead, he said: “Regent has been like a father to me.”

Sylvie’s eyes brightened.

“Regent,” she said. “I knew he’d protect you! I should have asked—I can’t believe I didn’t—do you know who your father is?”

“His name, not much more,” said X.

“I met Timothy in Montana,” said Sylvie. “Once they made me a lord, I used to sneak away from the Lowlands to walk in the mountains I grew up in. There was no one to stop me.”

“What about the Higher Power?” said X.

“Oh, the Higher Power isn’t much of a presence, is it? You’ve got to do something pretty outrageous to get its attention,” said Sylvie. “I came across Timothy on the trail to a place called Avalanche Lake. He picked flowers for me. No, wait, I picked flowers for him—that’s what it was. He put one behind his ear and another between his teeth, and did a funny Spanish dance for me, with the clapping over the head and everything. After being married to Fernley, who was just so repellent, I didn’t even know they made men like Timothy—men who were warm and full of life.” She turned to Zoe. “And gorgeous,” she said. “There wasn’t a plant or tree Timothy couldn’t identify—or an animal he didn’t respect. We ended up hiking in the woods a long time without speaking.”

Sylvie smiled, and looked down at the bloodstone button on her palm.

“And then we did some other things without speaking,” she said. “Timothy didn’t know what I was. I visited him off and on for weeks. Then I realized that I was endangering him—that I was being selfish. What if another lord discovered what I was doing? So I made myself stop going. It was brutally hard.”

Sylvie put the button back in the foil.

“I was shocked when I found out I was pregnant,” she said. “It didn’t make any biological sense. I mean, I was deceased. Maybe it was because I was a lord? Or because he was a mortal? I’m just guessing. When I realized that Timothy and I had made something together—something I could actually feel growing inside me—I wanted to tell him so badly it was crippling. I forced myself not to. I never saw him again.”

As if to slough off the story’s end, Sylvie turned to Zoe and said, “Montana is beautiful. Have you ever been?”

“I live there,” said Zoe.

“You’re serious?” said Sylvie. “What a strange, strange day this is.” She put a hand on X’s. “Now tell me about you. I’ve done nothing but talk. They made you a bounty hunter, you said?”

“Should I have refused?” said X. He was afraid of the answer. “I have often thought so because of the way the violence gets in your blood. Yet I was only ten when my training began, and all I knew was that something was finally happening to me.”

“You were right to say yes—of course you were,” said Sylvie. “Look at me. People like you and your friend Ripper, people with consciences, are the ones who should be bounty hunters. They’re the ones who should be lords, too, for that matter. Anyone who just craves power should be ashamed. You know why I trusted Regent from the very beginning? Because every time he had to hurt somebody it took him forever to forgive himself.”

“I am no longer a bounty hunter, as it happens,” said X. “I have been forbidden to leave the Lowlands. I fell in love with Zoe, and I became … unreliable.”

“My god,” said Sylvie, “your story’s so much like mine. Dervish must have lost his mind!”

“I am not his favorite,” said X.

“He hates us,” said Zoe. “Hates.”

“You’re doing something right, then,” said Sylvie. “It’s important to be hated by the right people.” Her brow furrowed. “Zoe, I still don’t understand how you got here.”

“I followed Dervish into a portal,” said Zoe. “I just jumped. It maybe wasn’t my best decision, but … I love your son. I was scared for him, and I thought I could help him find you. I wanted to try.” She paused. “Also, him and his friends are always showing up at my place unannounced.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were out of your mind,” said Sylvie. “But that’s what they said about me.”

Sylvie stood up in the cove. She took something from the silver foil to keep for herself—she transferred it to her pocket so quickly that X couldn’t see what it was—and then returned the packet to him.

“I’m ready to face whatever it is we have to face, if you are,” she said. “Who’s waiting up there for us?”

“Regent, Dervish—and a mob of others with varying intents,” said X. “Oh, and Maudlin, too.”

“Maudlin? Really?” said Sylvie. “Her real name is Mariette, by the way. I know I’m not supposed to say that, but it’s ridiculous that they call her Maudlin. She’s the least maudlin person I’ve ever known! She beat a doctor to death with a drill, for heaven’s sake.” She paused. “Does she still have Vesuvius?”

“She does,” said X.

“When Dervish and Regent came to take our souls, Mariette picked Suvi up to protect him, and then she couldn’t bring herself to let him go,” said Sylvie. “Did she tell you that?”

“She did not,” said X.

“I watched her try to put him on the floor as they rushed us toward the portal,” said Sylvie. “She absolutely could not do it. She loved him too much. So he came with us. I think he’d have wanted to, if we could have asked him. He loved her just as much.”

Before they left the cove, Sylvie hugged X and Zoe in turn. X felt a strength in his mother, a resolve, that hadn’t been there before.

“Thank you for saving me,” said Sylvie. “Now it’s my turn to save you.”

X felt Zoe bump him with her hip.