The Ravaged World (Book 2 of the Exiles Series)

Twenty-Three: Magnus

I stare deeply into my enemy's eyes, trying to find the answer that I seek hidden there, somewhere within the swirls of sharp gray and blue that I see before me. And because no immediate answer has arrived, I know that I'm at a crossroads. There are pros and cons to both options. I try to consider them all, taking my time without appearing indecisive, but I know that Avalon sees through the thin facade that I am trying to construct. She always does.

If I kill her, it means safety. A happily ever after for Talia and me, somewhere far, far away, with only endless sunny days and death of old age. But then, the problem is my conscience. Killing someone, even someone so evil and cynical as Avalon, will be something that would forever follow me, no matter how far away I go. And, without either of us, what would become of Silver? Who would rule it? The rebels, I know, would help with that, and although I trust them I can't help but feel unsure about that.

If I let her live, I am in danger. She's already made it quite clear that as long as I'm alive she will continue to hunt me down. Because her killing me means that she's free to pursue the presidency, which is something that can't happen. Though it's not certain that I would die if she lived, I have a nagging, inevitable sense of dread that one of us is going to die as a result of the other at some point or another, making me want to be the one to end it now, for nothing but that purpose.

"Unsure?" Avalon's voice is cold, mocking my slow deliberation. "I knew it would take awhile. But, if you could speed it up..."

I shut my eyes and gather myself, already sure of my answer. "Don't make me rethink what I'm about to do," I warn. She laughs, and her smug face is the first thing I see when I open my eyes again.

"So, you've decided, then?" Avalon clarifies, confidently arching an eyebrow. "What's the hold-up, then? Is it, by any chance, your conscience?" She spits the word "conscience" like poison.

"I'm surprised you know that word," I retort, "seeing as you don't have one. I mean, since you're responsible for Arina's death and all. Do you feel any remorse? Because I do, Avalon. Everyday. For her, and for you. Frankly, I feel bad for you. Something terrible must have happened to make you this way." I swear I see a flicker of realization come over her usually emotionless eyes.

"Oh, please, Magnus," she quickly responds, her energy centered on me once again and winning at our little game. "I'm not the only one, and you know that. Your father was the same way. And, if the events of the island tell me anything, you at least have a little bit of that monster inside of you."

"Avalon, enough." My voice comes out small, wounded, not nearly as gruff as I want it to be. "I'm not going to kill you."

I hear Talia gasp behind me, grasping at her shoulder. I can see just out of my peripheral vision that she's in pain. We need to leave.

Avalon nods, not the least bit surprised, and boldly stands up, even with the gun still trained on her chest. "I knew it," she states. "I knew you didn't have it in you. Not with what's at stake for you. You and I, we're a lot more alike than you think."

"I don't see it, honestly," I reply, trying to ignore her remarks, despite how much they scare me.

Avalon shakes her head dismissively. "Maybe not now, but you will soon. Everyone has that epiphany at some point. It's only a matter of time. In the meantime, however, I know what you want and I won't stand in your way."

She's calm as she steps to the side, gesturing vaguely towards the door, where the last spectating rebels are waiting to go. I look towards them, noting Max and Nicole among them.

"Go." Avalon nearly shouts the word. "Honestly. Because you cheated at my game, it's a do over. I'm it again. And I want this to be fun, so if you just stand here and stare at me, it won't get either of us anywhere." For once, she seems reasonable, in control of herself, and I'm smart enough to know there's no reason to challenge that.

I slowly lower the gun and tuck it into my waistband, almost setting it on the ground but thinking better, not wanting to literally get shot in the back. My body is still tense, apprehensive of Avalon letting me go, but allows me to step back far enough so that Talia and I stand side by side.

"You're still in charge, Magnus!" Avalon reminds me as I slide my arm around Talia's waist and guide her towards the door. "As long as you're still alive or not in prison, you're still President of Silver. But I want to warn you..." I take my concentration away from making my exit and back towards Avalon.

She locks her eyes on me, her eyebrows furrowed with arrogance. "...it won't be long before that happens," she finishes, trying to rattle me.

But I just shake my head. "That's where you're wrong." She stares, waiting for more, but I refuse to give her that luxury. She can know what she knows, and think what she thinks, and nothing more. That's the point of this game. Avalon is intrigued by the mystery of it all, not knowing exactly what my next move is but desiring to figure it out. What she wants is control. And knowledge gives her that kind of control.

But she doesn't ask any more questions. She just stands near the wall, arms hanging limply, casually at her sides, and watches as Talia and I soundlessly approach the waiting rebels at the door. They, too, are silent. Nicole scowls at me, eyeing Talia's shoulder and immediately assuming it's my fault.

Noticing the gaze that passes between Nicole and me, Talia looks up at me and attempts to smile through the pain. But it comes off as more of a grimace, and as the rebels part to let us pass through the door, Talia mouths, Not your fault. Not your fault. Not my fault. Talia seems so sure of that, but I'm not quite convinced.

The night is cool and blustery. The sun has set long ago, leaving behind nothing but the blank, infinite blue-black canvas of darkness in its place.

Our ride waits for us in the courtyard a few hundred yards from the house--a giant hover, larger than anything I've ever flown in, larger than anything I've ever imagined. The engines whine loudly, sending a calming breeze in all directions.

Once we're a few feet out, we run. Feet slamming the concrete and then the dead grass, streaking through the night. I glance behind me as I run and see a figure standing in the doorway. One can only assume it's Avalon. I wave to her, as a joke, of course, and speed up just after in a "catch me if you can" kind of way. Like it doesn't really matter, like it's all in good fun. You know, instead of a dance with death.

The hover opens its steel jaw and all of us clamber in, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline instantly seeps out of me, plopping on the shiny floor just past the doorway only seconds before I do.

I press my back to the wall and tilt my head up, hearing the engines start to hum even more insistently and seeing the large door close as we lift off. Talia breathes heavily beside me, the color drained from her face. No one but me appears to notice. Everyone else is too busy catching their breath.

Nicole sits beside Talia on the other side, wincing and dabbing at a cut on her forehead with her sleeve.

"Max." I spy my friend sitting across from Nicole, just as sweaty as I know I must be. "Glad you made it out."

He smiles, barely, before saying, "You know, you shouldn't be saying that this early. We...still have a long way to go. This is only the beginning."

What Max says is so similar to Avalon's warning that I instantly shut my mouth, and turn my attention to Talia. Fully intent on talking to her, maybe beginning the long process of catching up and returning to what once was, I find her instead slumped against my shoulder, too weak to push away unconsciousness any longer.