The three of us made quite the unusual group. Asbel, Quinn, and I, that is. Not only did we look like we didn’t belong together, nobody expected it to be us three together anyway. Ethan, Asbel, and Jay made sense, of course, but it’s not like Quinn nor Asbel was my best friend.
Quinn’s brown hair magnificently flowed nearly down to his shoulders, which were now a great deal broader than they had been when he had first arrived at RoCity. A lot of things had changed about Quinn since Amy’s death, and I had never even realised.
His dark brown eyes, although they had never quite sparkled, seemed almost lifeless as they stared ahead at the street before us. The glasses he wore were ever-so-slightly askew, and that was the only thing about him that didn’t look intimidating. I also noticed that his jaw twitched every so often, making him look agitated.
Asbel also had long hair, although he had taken a liking to tying it back into a bun. This was probably because of how much time he spent in the workshop, and it was better to not have your hair around fire and hammers.
We had all gotten together because Asbel had wanted a break from his project, and Quinn and I had been the only people available for a trip to the café.
The café outside The Tower was the best in RoCity, hands down. The old lady who worked there, Sharon, was known by the locals as ‘Madam Sweetheart’, which was one of the most heart-warming things I’d ever seen. She was a kind sixty-eight-year-old woman with short, curly grey hair and blue eyes that sparkled like the stars themselves.
Her husband, Charles, was a year her senior. In his youth, he’d been part of the RoCitian Military as an engineer, before leaving the city and becoming a businessman, where he met his wife. The two decided to move back to RoCity together, and that’s how Madam Sweetheart was born. I had never actually seen Charles in person, but from what I’d heard, he was just as kind and gentle as his wife.
The café itself was quite standard. It was a small building, with only a little over a dozen wooden tables scattered around. A small counter with some display items sat in the far right corner of the building, which is where Madam Sweetheart always stood. The walls were a beige colour, which perfectly added to the homey feel of the place.
Quinn and I told Asbel what we wanted and then found a table in the corner as he went to order.
The two of us sat in silence for a moment or two, but I was watching him. A few strands of his hair gently fell over his glasses, which sent a gentle shiver down my spine. His eyes, too, were impossible not to stare into. The way they looked so lifeless made them almost irresistible. They served a stark contrast to Albert’s sparkling blue eyes, but they were admirable nonetheless.
Then Quinn looked at me. Our eyes locked.
‘So, what do you think?’ he said ominously, barely above a whisper. ‘Can Albert do it?’
‘Huh?’ I replied, startled. ‘What? You mean kill Maltor?’
His silence was more than enough for an answer.
‘Depends on how hard he’s trained, I guess. He definitely couldn’t have done it three months ago.’
‘Three months?’ Quinn said quietly, sounding almost hopeless. ‘Is that all it’s been?’
He wasn’t making eye contact anymore.
‘Yeah,’ I sighed. ‘We haven’t seen him since, though. Makes me wonder if he’s given up.’
‘Maltor? Given up? No chance. He’s probably-’
‘You got a free biscuit with your coffee, Quinn,’ Asbel said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. ‘And Madam Sweetheart said she’s sorry if your doughnut’s a bit sticky, Emma.’
‘Doesn’t bother me,’ I said plainly as Asbel set down everyone’s drinks and food.
Quinn stared darkly at his coffee before slowly picking it up and taking a sip.
‘Sorry for the abruptness of this, by the way,’ Asbel continued. ‘But I couldn’t be in that workshop any longer. It’s great, but I’m on the verge of going insane.’
‘The thing you’re making,’ Quinn began cautiously, ‘how fast can it go?’
After swallowing a bite of his sandwich, Asbel said cheerily, ‘What…like…twenty, twenty-five miles an hour, I’m pretty sure. It’s definitely not the fastest, but improvements can be made.’
Quinn nodded slowly. He glanced at me again, and I hurriedly looked away as our eyes met.
‘Uh,’ I said quickly. ‘Why’d you start making it, again? You started making it before the offer, right?’
‘Yeah,’ Asbel said as though I had asked a stupid question, ‘I’ve been making it since before Maltor came back. But now that we’ve had the offer it finally has a proper purpose.’
‘What was the original purpose, though?’ I pressed. I hoped that I didn’t sound rude, I was just trying to make conversation.
‘Fun? Maybe? It probably would’ve found some use even if Maltor didn’t come back. A fun little way to arrive at international meetings for Albert or something.’
Quinn stared at him, a strange look coating his face. He looked both intrigued and annoyed. I wondered for a moment whether he wanted to be with Asbel. He had only agreed to come when he heard that I was.
‘You know the offer, yeah?’ Quinn tried, still quiet. ‘How long would it even take to get there on your thing?’
‘If it went at top speed the entire time, then about thirteen and a half hours,’ Asbel said awkwardly as Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Definitely not as fast as a plane or train, but a lot less dangerous. Public or private transport of that kind is really obvious. If Maltor knows we’re going somewhere, he won’t expect it to be on that.’
‘Yeah,’ Quinn mumbled. ‘He won’t.’
‘What’s with all the questions, anyway?’ Asbel said, in mock outrage. ‘I don’t mind, but I don’t want anyone here overhearing; you never know who’s on Maltor’s side.’
‘Sorry, but there’s not much else to talk about,’ I said, trying to sound happy as another dark look covered Quinn’s face.
Quinn took another quiet sip from his coffee before continuing, ‘Yeah, it’s either that, the war, or school. And I am not talking about school.’
‘Come on, Quinn,’ I said playfully. ‘It’s not all about the war. I’m pretty sure most of the city has forgotten about it.’
‘Yeah, but we can’t, can we?’ he replied quietly. ‘Maltor wasn’t their friend.’
I wasn’t really ‘friends’ with Maltor before he’d died, but this line evidently struck a chord in Asbel. The look in his eyes changed from one of contentment to one of what could only be described as regret. He gently put down his sandwich. Apparently, he’d lost his appetite.
‘I can’t believe it’s really him,’ he whispered. ‘It can’t be Maltor.’
‘You’ve seen the photos,’ Quinn fired back almost immediately. ‘He’s back.’
Asbel gritted his teeth. ‘He’s changed.’
‘We don’t know what happened between his death and now, right?’ I said quickly. ‘Who knows who revived him and what they did? What’re the chances he was influenced by someone again?’
‘Sorry, Emma,’ Asbel said, not looking me in the eye, ‘but it would’ve taken even more than what Amy offered to get Maltor to do this. And Amy offered exactly what Maltor wanted.’
‘We can’t be sure that that’s what he wants, though, right?’ Quinn interjected, speaking at a normal volume for the first time. ‘That was just Albert’s guess.’
‘‘Inference’ might be a better term,’ Asbel retorted glumly. ‘Albert’s not the kinda guy to jump to conclusions like that, especially when it’s about someone who used to be his best friend.’
Albert. I had barely thought of him all week. I realised quickly just how much I missed him. My chest physically ached at the thought of our last hug. That had been over three months ago. I desperately needed a hug like that again. I needed to feel that same feeling again, and I had no clue when Albert was coming back.
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Quinn eyed me carefully again, and I hoped that I didn’t look too flustered. His lifeless eyes now had something in them. Almost like a single spark. A singular sign that he was alive.
‘How far do you reckon Maltor’s prepared to go?’ Asbel asked, snapping me back into reality, but Quinn and I did not break eye contact. ‘Albert better not have done all this training for nothing.’
Asbel didn’t seem to notice me and Quinn staring at each other. He was too invested in his sandwich and coffee again.
‘Pretty far,’ Quinn and I spoke at the exact same time.
Asbel glanced up from his sandwich. He stared at the two of us almost suspiciously, but Quinn continued nevertheless.
‘Maltor’s not stupid. He knows how big of an impact he’s had. He wouldn’t start something this big and have absolutely nothing to back it up. And I doubt he’ll just keep returning on his own. He won’t get anything done if he keeps that up.’
‘I didn’t even think of it that way,’ I countered. ‘I just don’t think Albert’s dumb enough to do something like this if he doesn’t think Maltor will go any further. Albert’s smart like that, he can probably sense that this isn’t the end or something.’
Quinn gritted his teeth. He seemed almost annoyed at my interpretation for whatever reason.
‘I just hope we get it over and done with quickly,’ Quinn said, and he actually sounded destroyed as he did so. ‘I can’t take any more war.’
Asbel nodded. ‘I kinda thought every war would be the same, but it’s entirely different when you’re fighting someone you used to know.’
The three of us sat in cold silence for a while, the only noise coming from the occasional sip of a drink.
My brain felt almost fried. I hadn’t expected a conversation like this when I accepted Asbel’s invitation. And I could hardly concentrate when that single strand of hair was dangling over Quinn’s eye. If only I could gently put it behind his ear. Then it would be out of the way.
Madam Sweetheart turned out to be the one to break the silence. She slowly waddled over, and she didn’t even seem to notice the cold silence that we had descended into.
‘Are you finished, my dears?’ she said softly. ‘Do you mind if I clear your table?’
We all gave a general murmur of acceptance and she immediately began cleaning up our mess.
It was then that I realised that nobody worked at the café. Nobody manned the counter, there were no cleaners, no bakers. It was simply just Madam Sweetheart and her husband.
Quinn and I made eye contact again. The two of us wordlessly stared at each other, and I tried to ignore the sudden thumping in my chest.
Asbel rose from the table sharply. He dropped a few pounds onto the table as a tip.
‘I should go back to the workshop,’ he said darkly. ‘It won’t make itself.’
He rushed out of the café, leaving me and Quinn still staring at each other.
I had things I was dying to say. Questions I desperately needed to ask. But every time I thought about opening my mouth to begin, I felt almost powerless to even talk.
‘Emma,’ Quinn said in a strange tone, ‘do you miss him?’
I stared at him blankly. His eyes drilled into my very soul, and my chest felt constricted.
‘W-Who?’ I murmured weakly. ‘Maltor?’
He leaned forward slightly, and I found myself subconsciously doing the same. ‘Albert.’
What did he want me to say? His tone suggested that he would not like my truthful answer.
I was trying desperately to lie, I really was, but the truth seemed to spill from my mouth like acid.
‘Yes.’
He stared at me silently. His jaw was still twitching every so often. I felt intimidated, but he made no move to even touch me.
Quinn slowly rose from his chair, making me flinch. He raised an eyebrow at me before gesturing for me to follow him out.
It was only when the pair of us were out on the street that I realised how tall Quinn really was. I wasn’t exactly known for my height, but he made me feel downright insignificant. He must have been at least around five-foot-ten, which was a lot for a thirteen-year-old.
The two of us walked silently for a while. I didn’t even think about where we were going; Quinn just started to walk and I followed him.
‘Do you think he’s wrong?’ he finally said. ‘Maltor, I mean. You never really knew him, so you can’t be biased.’
I glanced at him, frowning. ‘Quinn? He wants genocide, right? I don’t think you can get more wrong.’
‘But he thinks he’s right,’ Quinn countered, staring right ahead. ‘So, surely, he’s got to have a good reason.’
He sounded like he was reassuring himself more than arguing with me.
‘It’s all about perspective,’ Quinn continued quietly. ‘That’s gotta be it. Everyone’s views are twisted into what they think is right and wrong.’
I stared at him, baffled. I hadn’t expected Quinn to become a philosopher.
‘What about you?’ I tried cautiously. ‘What way are your views twisted?’
He didn’t answer for a moment. We walked in cold silence for a few steps, Quinn staring straight ahead as I gazed into his lifeless eyes.
‘I have no idea,’ he said finally. ‘I just want it all to be over.’
I nodded slowly. ‘I think everyone can relate to that. The only thing we can really do is pray that it doesn’t go any further than it already has.’
‘But it will. I’m sure of it.’
Quinn’s eyes widened slightly. It wouldn’t have even been noticeable if I hadn’t been staring at his eyes as he did so.
‘You say you miss Albert, right?’
‘Yeah? Why?’
He stopped walking. As he turned to face me, I noticed that his eyes were now hinting at multiple emotions at once. He seemed worried, excited, hopeful, and utterly terrified all at the same time.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and my entire body tensed. I could feel every breath entering and leaving my nose. I gazed up into his eyes, taking into account that I could faintly see my reflection in them. My hair was a mess.
‘Do you love Albert?’
Everything went numb. I felt as though nothing existed but me and Quinn. The entire street around us appeared to disappear in an instant, leaving just the two of us desperately staring into each other’s eyes.
I had to think about his question for a moment. Did I love him? I didn’t think ‘love’ was quite the right word, but ‘crush’ probably was.
The way he made me feel whenever we were together was kinda hard to describe. Warm and fuzzy were the only two words that came to mind, which was almost sickening. Whenever I hugged him, though, that’s definitely all I felt. Our hugs were the best.
Yeah, now that I thought about it, I had a crush on Albert. A giant, hopeless, stupid crush.
‘W-Why?’ I managed.
‘So I know how hard these months have been for you.’
I tried not to let my mouth hang open. What had gotten into Quinn?
‘I mean- You could probably say-’
‘The answer’s yes, then,’ Quinn said, abruptly removing his hands from my shoulders before resuming his walk.
I quicked my pace to catch up, my entire face boiling.
‘No! It’s not ‘love’! It’s like a crush at most!’
He didn’t even look at me.
‘Don’t you think it’s strange that you still feel this way even after not seeing him for all this time? Most people would probably have forgotten about any feelings they had by now.’
My heart felt like it had been stabbed. I hadn’t even realised it, but Quinn was probably right. Before Albert had left to train, the mere thought of him had been enough to get my heart to race and my face to grow hot. Now, however, it simply didn’t have the same effect. It made me feel something, but that something was absolutely nothing compared to what it used to be.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said quickly, trying desperately to ignore the thoughts that had just crossed my mind. ‘I still feel the exact same.’
‘He left you, remember that,’ Quinn said after a moment’s pause. ‘He didn’t even consult you before leaving. Isn’t it obvious he doesn’t care?’
‘Shut up!’ I yelled defensively, ignoring the fact that he was right. ‘You’re probably just jealous!’
‘Jealous?’ Quinn murmured. ‘Of who? If you’re suggesting that I have feelings for either you or Albert, I have to tell you that you are deeply mistaken. I am merely trying to help you before you get hurt. Heartbreak hurts, Emma. Whether it be romantic, friendly, or familial, it hurts like hell.’
My eyes bored into the side of his face. With each and every word, it became harder to disprove what he was saying.
‘Just watch,’ I mumbled. ‘When Albert gets back we’re gonna hug and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.’
Once again, Quinn determinedly stared straight ahead. He wasn’t even looking to the side, let alone back at me.
My mind was reeling. Trying frantically to turn my mind away from what he was saying, I began to search for something to change the subject to.
‘You said it’ll escalate,’ I said rapidly. ‘How will Maltor find the soldiers to fight for him?’
‘The remains of Amy’s soldiers, if their goals are truly the same,’ Quinn replied without even pausing to think. ‘If not, then some people in this city, and probably around the world, will be keen on what he wants and they’ll defect to his side, just like people did when Amy rose to power.’
‘How many do you reckon will do that?’
‘Depends on the goal. Probably thousands. Hundreds of thousands.’
He ran his hand through his hair. It looked like it felt like silk.
‘Emma, what if his goal weren’t genocide?’ he said, and I replied with cold silence. ‘Do you reckon he could do anything to make you turn to his side? Or, let’s say, make Natasha or Jay defect over?’
‘No,’ I said sternly. ‘We’re all too loyal to Albert.’
‘Even after he left you all?’
‘Yes. He’s our friend, Quinn. Unless Maltor somehow manages to convince us that he can truly save the world, I doubt any of us will even consider what he has to say.’
He still wasn’t looking at me. It struck me again that I had no idea where the two of us were going. We had left the café what felt like an hour ago, and we had gotten nowhere. I didn’t even know if we were going anywhere.
Quinn let out a long sigh. He appeared to ponder my words for a moment or so, before finally deciding on a response.
‘If your mind’s so set, Emma, then I reckon you should be careful. You have no idea when or where he could get you. Maltor’s the kinda guy to do whatever he can to get what he wants.’
I glanced up at him again. His hair really did look like it felt like silk. Good silk, too. The kind that you could get lost in the feel of for hours on end.
‘What?’ he said. He was looking down at me and I hadn’t even noticed. I’d been too lost in his mop of hair.
‘Huh?’
‘You’re staring at me.’
The corner of his mouth had lifted ever so slightly, which was certainly something that I had not expected. His face always showed a dull, lifeless expression. It looked almost as though it pained him to even smirk.
My face immediately became intensely hot.
‘S-Sorry,’ I mumbled weakly.
‘Don’t worry about it. Just remember to follow your heart, yeah?’
He gently placed his hand on my shoulder, smirking faintly at me. My face was on fire.
The two of us merely stared at each other for a moment. His eyes didn’t seem so lifeless at that moment. He looked like he was actually feeling something.
‘Wait, Qui-’ I cried as his hand left my shoulder, but it was useless.
The spot in front of me was now empty, and nothing but the gentle breeze was making me shiver. He had shadow-travelled, which was an ability of his as a son of Hades. It’s what Albert had done to get out of the hospital.
I stared for a moment at the spot where his eyes had previously been. It was almost as though I could still feel them staring back into mine. The strange intensity within them drove me insane. Only one other pair of eyes had ever made me feel that way.
Shaking my head vigorously, I tried to set my mind straight. So much had just happened that I did not even know where to begin thinking.
I was certain of one thing, however. And that was that something had definitely happened to Quinn O’Neill. I wasn’t sure whether it had anything to do with me, Maltor, or anybody else.
But that philosophy of his was almost scary. The way he described people’s views before asking questions like that was absurd. I prayed that he simply wanted to see how my views were ‘twisted’. If that weren’t the case, then we could have a very, very bad situation on our hands.