Page 109 of Her Dreadful Will
Achan strode forward, but when she threw out both hands defensively, he halted. His eyes burned green in his white face, and his lips trembled when he spoke. “That’s where you’re wrong,dorogoi.You and I have known each other a long time.”
Soleil’s consciousness shivered, like a mirror shaken by an earthquake’s waves, on the brink of shattering.
Her voice sounded high and fragile and far away. “What did you call me?”
“What I have always called you, since we first met through the Institute.”
She shook her head. “No. You’re lying. You called medorogoi, and only—only one person—calls me that—”
He sucked in a sharp breath, his lips twisting as if he could barely form the words. His features settled into determined lines. “I’m Lucibae75. Your friend, your confidant, your fellow witch. It’s always been me.”
Years of conversations heaved, agonizing through a seismic shift in Soleil’s mind. Snatches of encouragement, of banter, of suggestion or support—not from Lucibae, who did not exist—but from Achan? FromAchan.
Soleil gasped, clutching her chest. This pain—it felt like the death of a dear friend.
“My full name is Achan Lucien Gilliam,” he said slowly. “When I registered with the Institute, I adopted the username ‘Lucibae’ because I knew it would prompt others to assume my gender and personality. It was another layer of security for my identity. And honestly, I wanted to see what it would feel like, what I could learn from being included in unguarded girl talk. It was the best choice I ever made, because through it, I was able to befriend the most unique and powerful young witch alive today.”
It took Soleil’s traumatized brain another second to realize he was talking about her. She wanted to scream at him, to rip him apart, but she could barely manage to say, through the red-and-white haze of her pain, “I was just another rarity to you, like I was to Highwitch Erlich. A prize to be claimed.”
“Maybe at first.”
When did he come nearer? She shouldn’t allow him to stand this close, a bare arm’s length from her. Traitor. Liar. Trickster.
“I was fascinated with you from our first orientation session, when you told everyone what your power was,” he said. “I wanted to get closer to you, to learn more about your power, yes. But then I saw you arguing so passionately, so righteously for your ideals. You were thoroughly devoted to being a ‘good witch,’ so insistent about the purity of your goals. Part of me wanted to prove you wrong, to show you that the ideal you were embracing doesn’t exist—can’t exist, in this imperfect world. I couldn’t believe you were real—so kind, so well-intentioned. But then I got to know you, and I heard strains of the dark music inside you. It’s always been there, Soleil. All I did was heighten a note or two, slide my fingers along the strings, and it rose to meet me.”
“Shut up,” she hissed.
“I will speak,” he said hoarsely. “Yes, I wanted to ruin you, to wreck this image of yourself that you were so desperately trying to hold together. I wanted to tempt you to break their rules, so the Institute and the Convocation would reject you. And then I would be there. I would recruit you, and you’d help me take them down—me on the inside, and you from without.”
He ran a hand along the back of his head. Whorls of air whisked the grass near his feet, the blades bending in a frenzy as the wind built. “To be honest, I think I was starting to love you even then, even before I met you in person. But when I met you,Iwas ruined, Soleil. You’re the one who wreckedme—you tore my careful plans into little scraps and threw them at my feet. I tried to hold back, to lure you in without letting myself get too emotionally involved, but—” he laughed helplessly. “That obviously didn’t work. I told you I wanted to touch your soul, but it’s gone much farther than that.” He took another step, and the wind circling him tossed Soleil’s hair over her shoulders. “I have bits of your heart under my fingernails, love.”
Chaos magic flared in Soleil, tendrils of the energy he had let slip. She caught the wind he created, swept it around, and hurled it at him, a blast so forceful he was thrown back several feet. He leaped up instantly, eyes blazing, and stalked toward her again.
“I want to tear down the Convocation, Soleil,” he said over the rising voice of the wind. “And in its place I will erect something better, and stronger. I will create a world where magic isn’t hidden away or crushed down—where people like my cousin aren’t slaughtered for their secret powers.”
“You’re after revenge,” she managed, brokenly. “How cliché of you.”
“No, not just revenge. You made me realize how much good we could do together, Soleil. Far-reaching, long-lasting good that actually matters, that makes humanity a species worth preserving.” His gaze held hers, searching, pleading. “Think about it. You and me. Making the decisions. Righting the wrongs. Accountable to no one but ourselves. Absolute freedom, and absolute power.”
A thrill shot through Soleil’s chest as she saw it. She imagined the two of them merging their separate dreams into one glorious goal. It could work. They could do monstrous, magnificent things. And she wanted those terrible things, with all the force of her soul.
But she wasn’t ready to give in, not yet. She wasn’t done punishing him for the secrets, so many wretched secrets.
Soleil shoved another wave of Achan’s whirling air at his chest. It sent him skidding backward, but he advanced once more, quicker than she’d expected. “You can help me bring our people into the light again,” he pleaded. “All this, everything I’ve been planning since I was a kid—it will be worthless and tasteless without you.”
And he still hadn’t addressed the wrong he had done.
“What about your lies, your manipulation?” Soleil spat at him. “The way you’ve used me for your own ends?”
“Don’t pretend you weren’t using me, too,” he said. “You crave power so fiercely you’d ignore your own conscience just to collect more of it. I tricked you, yes. I held back the truth, tempted you, manipulated you—yes. I don’t deny any of it, and I won’t apologize either. I don’t regret one minute. I’d do it again, if in the end you saw the truth.”
“The truth?” Her laugh sounded more like a shriek. “What truth?”
“That we are two halves of a much greater whole.”
He was delusional, obviously; so why did those words send a bolt of giddy heat through her soul?
Too close, he was much too close again, reaching out to her. He spoke over the wind racing around them, the wind that swept leaves across the dusky sky. “You’re my purpose, and I’m your freedom.”
