Chapter 14: Sitting on a Razor’s Edge

  The air was humid on the island that afternoon, even as the sun was turning the sky gold in preparation for the evening. Because of the usual humidity of Perdi, many of the manors and homes of the island were built in such a way as to trap cool dry air on the inside and keep the sweat far away from the lounges. Of course, the holes in Crocodile’s abode didn’t help, and the steaming anger whisking off of Beetle herself was no less anathema to the idea of chill.

  Crocodile was sitting on a throne of beat up cloth and old wood staring at the mess of a warrior with an unending lizard stare. Phin was no less concerned, but his eyes bore a certain wisdom as he watched his younger comrade boil under her own thoughts. Crocodile spoke first. “I don’t think I ever saw you this put out.”

  It was true. Beetle couldn’t deny it, this was the angriest she had been since she lost her memories, and that alone was saying something. Something inside her itched, and she knew it was Rewe’s hatred. She knew that she was between her old self and her new ideals, and the friction was just causing heat and frustration.

  “You really took it out on that Harnian,” Phin added, though his voice was cool and collected.

  “Can’t I just be mad without it being a big deal?” Beetle snapped. Phin held up his hands and Crocodile flicked his tongue.

  “Hey,” Crocodile said, “no judgement from me. You fought like a Verdokian.”

  Phin shrugged along with Crocodile’s assessment. “Do Verdokian’s usually carry the rage with them after the fight is over?”

  Crocodile chuckled. “Not if they win.”

  “I’m pissed and angry and all I see is red,” Beetle admitted, “is that what you guys wanted to hear? Are you fucking royal philosophers now? Wisemen?”

  “Friends.” Phin sat back, “besides you came here to see us, not the other way around.”

  A cackle from Crocodile. “He’s got you there, Monkey. You didn’t just come here to stew, did ya?”

  Beetle sighed. She knew she was being a jerk and she knew her friends were right. She had plenty on her chest, especially as her old self was finding its way back. If nothing else, there was one truth from the whole experience that was weighing on her. “I’m a murderer.”

  “Were a murderer,” Crocodile corrected, “unless you count bloodsports, then yeah, think we are all murderers.”

  “No.” Beetle waved a hand. “I mean I feel it in my gut. I hate this world and everyone in it, or Rewe does, or I did, I don’t know.” She closed her eyes, but instead of darkness, all she got was a headache. “I killed so many people just because I hated the world we were born in, and the worst part is I’m not sure I was really wrong.” She opened her eyes to Phin’s gaze. Beetle held it for a moment. “If I killed people like Maelys, people who are scum, then was Rewe really a monster. This world really is messed up, was it so wrong to fight back?”

  “What about Gareg and his family?” Crocodile piped up. “Some collateral you pulled on those folks with your piracy.”

  Beetle flinched. Sure she felt the guilt and the want to never cause that pain to someone ever again, but at the same time… Gareg just lost a couple of boats, right? Beetle held Crocodile’s gaze. “I still feel that anger, this desire to say fuck it and to start…”

  “Cleaning up?” Phin wondered out loud.

  “That’s a prettier way to put it than my memory does,” Beetle forced a strained smile. “But fuck it, Rewe got to survive. Rewe got to be free, and who knows how many Maelys or Gallos I erased from people’s lives.” Beetle threw her hands in the air. “If Perdi is anything but a mirror of the world, can you really blame Rewe for lashing out against it, doing what she wanted, and wiping the smirks off the faces of the fat and greasy along the way? The content bastards who just go along with the broken world? Those who cheer in the stands…”

  “Do you really want to be Rewe again?” Phin’s words rattled in Beetle’s head. She just gave every reason to take back her mantle of de la Hache, and yet her heart was hesitating. Gareg lost boats, but the eyes of everyone else who hated her betrayed a greater loss her actions had taken. She remembered the looks in her dreams, the face of the yexara wielding boy. When did Rewe become indiscriminate? Beetle couldn’t remember, and for once, neither could Rewe.

  Crocodile shivered. “Shit, this is some deep talking. Like, who else could she be?”

  Those words cinched Beetle’s heart. “Who else could I be…”

  A loud bang resounded off the front door. Beetle all but jumped from her seat while Crocodile twisted a frown. Granny came shooting across the room to see to it. Immediately a loud and angry voice started barking at the old woman and with equal gusto, Granny started barking right back. Beetle and Crocodile shared a look before rushing over with Phin trailing behind.

  There, by the open door was Jacob, his face purple from screaming and his eyes shot with old tears. As soon as his gaze bounced to Beetle, he grew a darker shade. “You!” Spittle and anger came from his lips. He pointed a finger, but Granny held his arm down. He tried to push forward but soon Crocodile was holding the boy by the threshold. “You killed him, didn’t you!?”

  “I didn’t!” Beetle shouted back, though her chest was cold with panic.

  “You did!” Jacob spat. “I know you did!” He tried to lunge but Crocodile held him firm.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Think it might be time for you to go,” Crocodile said with a firm undertone of a threat.

  “You killed my dad,” Jacob choked on his tears. “You and that bitch duchess.” He sobbed, his anger faltering. “I’ll kill you.”

  Beetle stood in silence while Crocodile talked. “No you won’t,” Crocodile said, “Now go clean yourself up. She said she didn’t and she didn’t.”

  Jacob slackened and took a step back. “I will, though.” He pointed another finger at Beetle. “I will.” With that he turned to the streets and started to shuffle away. Crocodile and Beetle stood in silence for a while and Phin stood with his arms crossed, in the shadows with Granny.

  A thought struck Beetle. She remembered how back when Maelys first tricked her to the arena, she turned down Gareg’s offer to flee as Rewe would have in favor of protecting her friends and now here her friends were, standing between her and Jacob, being her alibi. She shook her head, she already had thought enough to pop her brain a thousand times over for one day. “Granny, do you have a book I could read?”

  “You going to your room?” Crocodile asked.

  “Yeah.”

  ***

  Beetle laid on her bed, a book tented over her face and her arms splayed. She was on her back and her head was toast. The book did little to distract her from thinking and now she laid with the evening minutes dwindling and the moon just starting to show. She was thinking about her friends, her old friends, before Crocodile and before Phin. Way back, she could sorta remember that she once did have friends as Rewe. What happened? A snort. Rewe started to see the flaws in her friends, the pains of the world reflecting off of them, started to see behavior she didn’t agree with, personalities that rubbed her the wrong way. Just like everything else, Rewe saw the world paint them and she was disgusted, it was blinding to every other quality. It was her first step in isolating herself, festering.

  “Haramush!” Beetle groaned into the pages. “My kingdom for haramush!” She sat up, the book falling into her lap. Her hair was a golden mess and her eyes were baggy. “How the fuck do I know that quote?” She wondered out loud. With a final look at the book, she shoved it off of her and groaned. “I’m going to finish today as Beetle,” she told the object.

  With little else, Beetle shuffled out of her room, hair still a wiry poof and face tired. “Crocodile!” She shouted into the halls.

  “What!?” A roar came back.

  “I’m going to Jacob’s and tell him what happened to his dad.”

  “Why!?”

  “Shit. I’m sick of making up reasons for all my actions, good enough?”

  Crocodile poked his head out of an adjoining room. “Can I come?”

  Beetle waved her arm. “Sure.”

  ***

  The moon casted a pale hand over the streets of the upper district. Perdi’s cobble streets were bare and the humid day had turned into a windy vesper. Beetle enjoyed the cold touch on her skin as she walked with Crocodile, but in spite of it all, there was an energy in the air. Crocodile must have felt it as well, as he was oddly silent and twiddling with the pommel of the saber he always kept strapped to his hip.

  Crocodile broke the silence. “Monkey.”

  “Hm?”

  “Do you have a weapon on you?”

  “A knife.” Beetle lifted the hem of her baggy shirt to show the leather sheath of a short dagger. “Why?”

  The two turned onto Jacob’s street. It was a straight road with large manors on either side, but what was more, from it you could see an unobstructed view of the hill that overlooked the city, the same hill that the duchess’ residence sat on. There, between the city’s wealthy district and the duchess’ own estate, was a field of glowing torches.

  Crocodile pointed a finger. “That.”

  Beetle’s eyes widened and she shot from Crocodile’s side, rushing to Jacob’s abode. It was the third house on the left. Normally Beetle might have been impressed by its size, but for now she felt a cold dread. The door was smashed in. Gritting her teeth, the warrior sprinted into the house and was immediately hit with the sight of a struggle.

  Broken glass, wood and overturned furniture littered the scene, but what was more, there were splatters of blood on the floor, a blood handprint on the wall, and a lone tooth beside a shattered vase. Crocodile was quick to back Beetle up, spinning in place as he took in the sights. Finally, as Beetle was poking her head into another room, Crocodile piped up.

  “Monkey?”

  Beetle turned. Crocodile was squared, staring at the entrance that they had come in from. There, a dark lady with sinister eyes stood. Her clothes were functional and her noble boots were unmistakable.

  “Rewe,” Chiara called softly. “The duchess would like to have a word with you.”

  “Where’s Jacob?” Beetle hissed.

  “He’s already at the meeting.”

  Crocodile nudged the tooth on the ground with his boot. “All of him?”

  Chiara shot the Verdokian a look. “Most of him.”

  Something clouded Beetle’s judgement. An old instinct told her to strike right now and ask questions later, to end the dance, but for whatever reason, she continued to talk. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  For the first time, Beetle saw Chiara give a genuine smile. It was a gross one, the kind that made her squirm with hate. The strange noblewoman took a few backwards steps back into the moonlight of the streets and then with a nod, started to walk away.

  “Your call, Monkey,” Crocodile turned to Beetle.

  “It’s not our problem,” Beetle concluded, “probably.”

  “I have a feeling that you might be the only one thinking that,” Crocodile answered.

  A sigh. “Even I don’t believe it. Fuck, let’s go.” Beetle groaned and somewhere deep inside she felt Rewe flare with disappointment. It was one thing when she was saving people like Crocodile, but not a few hours ago, Jacob was threatening to kill her. Then again, it didn’t take a genius to know that this entire ordeal was precipitating a greater event.

  “Those sure are a lot of torches,” Crocodile murmured. Beetle looked up as she walked on the road, Chiara’s shadow up front.

  “They for me?” Beetle called to the noblewoman.

  Before Chiara could answer, Beetle suddenly froze. She saw something in her periphery, if just for a moment. She turned to a building to the left. It stood silent, like a corpse. The night wind was blowing and a decorative tapestry was flapping along a balcony. Could her eye have simply picked up the movement of the cloth in the wind? No, whatever she saw moving along the building in the corner of her eye had a face. Her gut twisted, hand reaching towards her knife.