Page 76 of Stitches
“Are you all right?”
“Braxton lied,” Levi said, rolling onto his side to face Ashmedai.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“He lied. I remember everything now. You told me he said the people he killed to make me had started to transform and were panicked, beyond saving. He….” Levi clutched his throat at the sharp sting of memory. “I hadn’t started to change yet. I hadn’t even crossed the barrier. He said I was perfect… and then he took my head. He killed me.He murdered me and knew what he was doing. He murdered all of them—”
“Levi.” Ashmedai gathered Levi close, hugging him tight, which helped still the terror that had risen in him. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry that happened. I’m sorry you have to remember it.”
“The highwayman didn’t kill those people and leave parts behind. Braxton did.”
“But how? Brax can’t cross the barrier.”
“He was there. I know it was his voice.”
“Are you certain? Maybe you’re remembering wrong. This isBrax, your own creator and my closest friend. He would never—”
“He would never mutilate corpses and lie to you?”
The silence that followed was static and sharp, enough that Levi felt guilty for having to say it, but there were no doubts in his mind after reliving his death. That had been Braxton’s voice.
Slowly, Ashmedai held Levi out in front of him, looking conflicted. “There must be an explanation.”
“What if there isn’t?” Levi asked.
“Then we will find out the truth. You’re safe now. Even with that memory, I promise you are safe.” He stroked Levi’s cheek with a tender brush. “I will always keep you safe, Levi. Or….Leander, I suppose I should call you now.”
“No.” Levi shook his head, pressing his face into Ashmedai’s palm. “I remember everything, but I’m Levi. I’ll always be Levi now. Leander simply needs justice. They all do.”
“Yes,” Ashmedai said with some of his true resonance slipping into his voice, “they do.”
Ashmedai
So as not to alert anyone at the festival that something was amiss, Ashmedai brought himself and Levi to the tower door using his shadows. The sounds of the festival were only faintly audible in the distance, like the most surreal of backdrops, since they were about to confront a friend for murder.
Ashmedai reached for the door, but Levi stopped him.
“Who was Braxton before the curse?”
The question startled Ashmedai, though the answer was simple. “Exactly who he is now—or so I thought. An alchemist, hungry for knowledge. If he is truly to blame for all this, I never would have guessed he’d be capable.”
“The people of Emerald have become frightened of magic, outlawed it,” Levi said, “yet they allow alchemy. There’s still crime. There’s still awfulness and death. But I’ve never heard of anything like what Braxton has done. I suppose even science can be frightening when wielded by the wrong person.”
The sentiment was wise, but Ashmedai could tell Levi was haunted, because he too had never believed Braxton could be thewrong person.
“He owes us answers,” Ashmedai said, reaching for the door once more, but also lifting his other hand to gently cup Levi’s cheek like he had in the bedchamber. “If he did this, then all that matters iswhy.”
Pulling the tower door open, Ashmedai went in first, with Levi following.
The tower was quiet, dark, with few crystals illuminating any part of the main living area.
“I don’t see any pulsing, but he must be in his workshop,” Levi whispered. “Unless he’s still at the festival.”
“Pulsing?”
“When he’s working, lately there has been this purple light. It draws me in like I can’t tear myself away.”
Ashmedai frowned, continuing toward the closed workshop door, with one arm holding Levi behind him, though mostly to keep one hand laced with Levi’s and know he was safe.
