Terry felt his skin flush, a heavy weight settling in his stomach. “Bad news? What bad news?” He almost didn’t want to know. Just leave me on the high of knowing everyone was safe!

Mesmer held up a calming hand. “Everyone is fine. The Emperor and the Council had a meeting in the skies above Topeka shortly after Whipvine killed the Scourge.” He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “It seems that the Council is not thrilled about the idea of your grandfather having control over territory that is practically a suburb of Kansas City.”

Terry’s eyes went wide. “They didn’t…fight, did they?”

The Council had three registered S-rankers and though none of them were Originals, they were still S-rankers. And the last time S-rankers had fought, Wichita had been cast into eternal night…

Mesmer shook his head, taking some of the weight off Terry’s shoulders.

“No, thank God. Your grandfather’s still got some tricks up his sleeves, but that would have been…” Mesmer looked off into the distance, as if seeing the fallout in his mind, then turned back to Tania and Terry. “Well, let’s just be thankful it didn’t come to that.”

“So what’s the bad news?” Tania asked impatiently, crossing her arms with a scowl. “Why you dancin’ round it?”

Terry thought that was being a bit uncharitable, but then Mesmer cleared throat and he realized that the revenant was dancing around something.

“What is it, Mes? You’re making it worse by not saying it.”

Mesmer pursed his lips, then nodded slowly. “Well, the Emperor and the Council agreed to split Topeka down the middle.”

Tania furrowed her brow at his side. “You can’t just split a city.”

Mesmer’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, yes you can. Jerusalem and Berlin, after World War II. Singapore after the Call.” He shrugged. “It’s not only been done before, but quite often. It…usually doesn’t work well for either side though.”

Terry’s mind was racing, trying to get to the crux of Mesmer’s point. “So, the bad news is the people of Topeka will suffer? It doesn’t have to be that way though, right? We can—” He cut off as the revenant shook his head.

“That’s not the bad news—though it’s certainly bad.” His eyes swirled violet, seeming to lock onto Terry with a deep-set melancholy. “The bad news, is that someone the Emperor trusts needs to remain behind, to hold West Topeka and to govern…”

Terry squinted, not understanding the implication at first. Whipvine? Definitely not Savage. Then the obvious truth hit him like a slap in the face. His expression dropped, his head feeling light, dizzy.

“My father?” he whispered. “Dad’s staying in Topeka.”

Mesmer’s face tightened, but he said nothing.

“The fuck?” Tania said at his side. “No way he is, right?” She turned back and forth between the two of them. “That would be…”

“Cruel?” Terry supplied, his eyes homing in on the white rose encased in Mesmer’s bookshelf.

Tania deflated, waving her hand around as if trying to find the words.

“I was gonna say fucked up.”

“Yeah…” He felt a draw toward that white rose—almost a compulsion to reach out and remove its case, stroke its petals. Would he feel closer to his mom? Or would it just remind him of what he had lost?

A weight settled on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Terry. It’s not fair, but it’s necessary.”

He felt numb, disconnected. The sounds were entering his ears, the words processed by his brain. But the emotions that should have come felt distant, separated by a chasm he couldn’t bridge.

Tania’s furious voice cut through it all.

“That’s bullshit!”

Mesmer’s gaze lingered a moment, then twisted on the girl.

“You’re not helping—”

“No, screw that!” He noticed her indicate him with a finger in his peripherals. “He just lost his mother. And fine, his father had to go off fighting for reasons. But now, he’s staying in Topeka? That’s some grade-A, pasture-raised, chicken-shit—”

Mesmer turned on her with a protest on his lips, but Terry beat him to it.

“Tania, it-I’m…” He searched for the words but found them fleeting. “To be honest, I’m…not fine. But getting mad at Mes won’t change anything.” She opened her mouth to respond, but he held up a hand in frustration. “Just…just leave it…please. I-I need to be alone for a bit.” He looked away, his eyes finding his mother’s rose again. “I’ll come find you…later.”

She didn’t answer at first, so he looked back to see if he’d pissed her off. But she was chewing her lip nervously, a searching look in her eyes. After a moment, she nodded.

“Okay, Terry. Yeah, come find me later.”

He nodded and started for the door, then paused. Turning back, he waved toward Mesmer.

“See ya, Mes.”

He didn’t wait for a response, leaving the revenant’s office with quick steps, Crunch at his side while Burg and Blood joined the two of them from where they had been waiting. He felt one of the ghouls flare their aura and Crunch’s own aura shifted in reply. But for the first time, he wasn’t excited about his improving aura sense, wasn’t interested in trying to parse the information silently passing between the undead.

There was only one thing on his mind.

He left the ghouls outside his bedroom and marched to his desk, powering on the screen. A dormant chat window stared back at him and he pressed a button to reconnect.

> [RoseBud]: changed my mind, when and where can we meet?

He leaned back, staring at his ceiling as he replayed the wraith-glass scenes in his mind. Whipvine decapitating the Scourge, Savage chewing through his skull and swallowing it practically whole, and his father…

A ping startled him and he turned back to the computer in surprise.

> [IBelieve]: can you ditch the rotters?

Terry hesitated at the question. Could he? No, more importantly…should he?

Then he remembered, father wasn’t coming back to Wichita anytime soon. The memory suddenly stabbed through him, burning his thoughts into a white-hot fire. What did he care about the rules, about staying in the palace? This IBelieve person had information about his mother and that was more important than anything else.

Of course, the last time he’d left the palace had been disastrous, leaving seven ghouls dead. Which just meant, he’d have to go on his own. He’d have to sneak out of the palace…

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He typed back a response.

> [RoseBud]: yeah, but give me some time to come up with a plan. I’ll msg you later

Rising from his chair, he pulled open the door and leaned out. Crunch and Burg were there, Bloodstain nowhere to be seen.

“My prince?” Crunch asked.

“I changed my mind, could one of you please ask Tania to come see me?”

Crunch and Burg didn’t share a look like humans might have, but Terry felt their auras mingle for the briefest second before Crunch nodded.

“I go. Tania listen Crunch.”

“Thanks, Crunch.”

He went back into his room and waited impatiently on his bed.

This is a crap plan, he thought. I’m wasting Tania’s time. She’s gonna laugh at me.

No, this will work. It has to work. IBelieve knows things, things I want to know. Need to know.

You’re gonna get someone else hurt. How could you forget those seven dead ghouls so easily?

I didn’t forget! That’s why I’ll leave them behind. I’ll only be putting myself at risk.

And Tania…

No, she has the safest role in the plan.

If she even agrees. What if she doesn’t? What if she rats on you?

She won’t…

Cause you know her so well?

She won’t!

He growled in frustration, knowing that the objections he was throwing about were valid, knowing that he was being obstinate. But he had to do something. Another week in this room taking no steps toward solving his mother’s death would drive him crazy.

I have to do something!

A knock on his door a few minutes later rescued him from his spiraling thoughts. He rushed to pull it open, a beaming smile on his face as he saw Tania standing there.

“Hey, thanks for coming so quickly.”

She shrugged, stepping past him into his room. He suddenly realized that he could have at least picked up a bit before inviting the girl in.

“Not like I had other plans.” She looked back at him after turning a quick circle to take in the room. “Though I thought you needed some alone time.”

“Yeah, about that…” He turned to Crunch who waited expectantly at the door. “Can you, uh, give us some privacy?” The ghoul’s aura shifted at that, but he didn’t argue. Terry watched as the two ghouls split, each taking a position fifty feet down either side of the hall. When he closed the door and turned back, Tania’s eyebrows were nearly in her hairline.

“I don’t know what you think this is,” she started. “But I thought you needed a friend to talk to, not…” She waved her hand as if to indicate something else entirely.

With a horrified gasp, he realized what she was implying.

“Oh my God, nononono, that wasn’t, that isn’t, I did—”

He cut off, the smirk stretching across her face letting him know she wasn’t mad. But he still felt mortified that he’d been giving her that impression.

“Just checking,” she said wryly. “Dad always told me boys only want one thing, but I think he was just trying to scare me.”

I mean, if I’m being honest, she is really pretty…when she’s not snarling or breaking my ribs or—

NO, focus!

“I-uh.” Why was the back of his neck so hot! “Ahem, well, I, uh, asked Crunch to get you because I’ve been talking with someone interesting online.”

Her smile dropped at that and she tilted her head in confusion.

“Ooookay…”

“Not like that,” he said quickly. “It’s an adult.” Her eyes narrowed. “Crap, no, I mean, they know something about my mom. How she died, or maybe even what happened…I think. They're a bit coy actually, but I think—”

“Oh! This is about your mom? You were freaking me out for a minute. Thought you were chatting with an online predator or something.” She frowned. “Actually, you still could be. Thought about that?”

“Well…no…”

She nodded knowingly, then out of nowhere, threw herself onto his bed. Then she shot up and cast him an angry glare. “Are you kidding me!”

“What? What!”

She lounged back on his bed with a deep sigh. “This is the most comfortable bed I’ve laid on in…my entire life, actually.”

Terry chuckled, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing.

“I’ll see about getting you one.”

She shook her head with a snort. “So the other girls can hate me more than they already do? No, I’m used to cheap beds.” She fluffed one of his pillows up behind her head and settled in. “Okay, tell me everything.”

There’s a girl on my bed! was his first thought. His second thought was the relief that he finally had someone to talk to about all of this.

Sitting on the corner of the bed, far enough away so it wouldn’t be awkward, he started explaining how he’d met IBelieve.

“So, there’s this website called Necrotalk forums…”

----------------------------------------

Tania was surprisingly amenable to his plan. Frighteningly so, in fact. Like the drama of sneaking Terry out of the palace was a fun game. Or maybe, it simply served as a distraction from the loss she must have been feeling.

Either way, he had to remind himself that this wasn’t a game. As innocuous as this might seem, he couldn’t let himself forget what had happened the last time he’d left the palace. He had to be serious. He had to be focused. He had to be—

“Why the hell’s your face scrunched up like that?” Tania blurted, cutting across his thoughts like an air horn.

“Like what?” he asked indignantly. “This is just my face.”

“No, you’ve got it all mashed together, like this—” She contorted her expression, squinting her eyes and furling her nose, like she’d got a bad whiff of something. “You constipated or something?”

“What! No, I’m not constipated, Tania. I’m focused. This is my focused face.”

She relaxed her expression, shrugging as she plopped back onto his pillow and picked up the magazine she’d discarded. “Looks constipated to me.”

He bit back his response, tugging a knot tight on the rope he’d made out of spare sheets. Despite Tania’s enthusiasm for the plan, she had proved remarkably unhelpful when it came to actually crafting the length of jerry-rigged rope he would need to descend from his window.

In fact, she’d mostly just combed through his books and magazines while she popped some gum she’d found in his desk drawer.

To be fair, the plan wasn’t exactly complex. He just needed her in the room running interference while he snuck out. The truth was, he didn’t know the range on his ghoul bodyguards’ aura sense, nor was he sure that they wouldn’t pop their head in to check on him. But with the girl there, there would at least be one aura in the room to throw them off.

Plus, he had implied that him and Tania were…doing things. He didn’t think a ghoul could be embarrassed, but he hoped they had the good sense not to barge in at a bare minimum.

Which brought him to now…standing by his window, clutching a sheet-rope, wondering if he was out of his mind.

He pushed the doubts out of his mind, tugging on the rope so that it snapped taut where it was anchored beneath the leg of his bed.

It’ll hold…I think…

As satisfied as he could be without actually throwing himself out the window, he moved over to his computer and turned on some music from the net—a popular band that intermingled throat singing and heavy metal. It kind of reminded him of the undead singing in the Evolution Chamber…except for the heavy metal part. Dialing up the volume, he spotted Tania cringing on the bed and maliciously ticked it up a few more notches.

“Does it have to be so loud!” she shouted, her voice practically lost against the background music. “And so obnoxious!”

He turned his head to the side and held up a hand like he couldn’t hear her.

“What!” he shouted back.

She clamped her mouth shut and flipped him the finger. “I’m changing it the second you leave.”

He ignored her, turning toward the window. If he was being honest with himself, he’d been dragging his feet a bit, rechecking the knots, triple-inventorying the things in his bag, and so on. All of that, to avoid this next part.

He indicated the window with his thumb. “Here I go.”

She held a hand to her ear, mocking his motion from a moment before. He returned the favor by echoing her middle finger. Her body convulsed in a snort, drowned out by the music.

“Good luck,” she called, her face turning serious.

He nodded, stepping to the window to hide what he was sure was a terrified expression.

This is a crap plan, isn’t it? Why do I need to meet this guy in person again? What if he kidnaps me, holds me for ransom? Or worse, what if he’s a Topeka spy? A Knights sympathizer?

The doubts had been tumbling around in his head, chipping away at his resolve like salt spray against the cliffs. But every time, he came back to a single thought.

He knows something about my mom’s death…

That was all the motivation he needed, and he eased the window open. With a shaking breath, he climbed atop the windowsill and got a grip on the sheet-rope. As he tried to turn and climb down backwards, his backpack caught on the edge of the window frame. The wind took that moment to pick up, rattling the window against the wall. His head felt light, dizzy. The wind powerful, grabbing at him. He focused on his mom, dropped to a knee, angled his backpack through the gap, then dangled his feet over the edge.

Below, the city was shrouded in fog, hiding the ground below. The fog looked eerily like clouds and he had to push down the irrational thought that he was much higher than he actually was.

Don’t look down, don’t look down.

He repeated the words to himself as he reached his feet to grip a knot. One hand moved down, found purchase, then another. Sweat slicked his palms and he cursed himself for not wiping them on his pants before descending.

He looked up—mostly to keep from looking down—and spotted Tania staring down at him. She had an easy-going smile splitting her face and flashed him a thumbs up. He nodded in return, feigning a confidence he didn’t feel.

Turning his full attention to the task of inching down the rope, he made slow but steady pace. Hand, hand, slide his feet down. Hand, hand, feet. Hand, hand, feet.

Before he knew it, he was among the fog and he felt a desperate need to reach with his toes to find solid ground. But he continued the course, sliding down one handgrip at a time, until he finally touched pavement.

He let go of the sheets with a pained gasp, his hands stuck clenched, his forearms burning with lactic heat. Shaking them out, he glanced up but found the fog obscuring his view of his window. He was disappointed he couldn’t signal Tania that he’d made it, but she’d figure it out soon enough.

With nothing else for it, he shifted the weight of his backpack on his shoulders and took off toward the arranged meeting spot at a jog.

It was almost time to meet up with IBelieve.