Hekate's Call, Chapter 32

Krystyn sat on the floor among the wreckage, worrying herself sick about that face Ilina made before she ran. And because the universe sought to rightfully punish her, the door slid open and Manya peaked in excitedly.

"Oh," Manya giggled and closed the door behind her. She raised the lights enough to make everything out on the bed and floor. "Oh, Charlotte." The devil picked the gun and the belt up off the bed. "What did you naughty girls get up to in here?"

"I'm not in the mood for you right now," Krystyn muttered into her knees.

Manya wandered about like it was a crime scene. It probably was one. Examining each thing in its place and creating mental simulations of what transpired. She lingered over Ilina's boots, gun, and jacket the longest. Things she wouldn't leave behind by accident.

After a thorough investigation she crouched down in front of Krystyn. Her face was all serious. No pouting or giddy smile. "Why didn't you go after her?"

"I was worried about her–"

"Worried about her. Yeah. That's why you're crying on the floor in the fetal position all by yourself."

Fine. Fine, Manya. "You wouldn't have chased after her either if you saw how fast she ran."

"What did you do? I can't imagine the belt and gun scared her off."

Krystyn didn't want to look up. Didn't want to see the look on Manya's face. It already hurt, she didn't need Manya rubbing salt in the wound like she would. "I told her I loved her."

The devil shuffled in next to Krystyn on the floor, leaning into her. "I want to say a lot of mean things right now," she said with perfect, synthetic sincerity. "But also you're my only real friend here. So, I'll be honest for once."

That didn't sound anything like her. Did she get swapped out with Orchid when Krystyn wasn't looking? No, even Orchid didn't act like this.

"What were you expecting her to do? Her running away hurts, sure. But you knew it wasn't going to end well, no matter what." Manya laughed, again sympathetic and lacking any of the cruelty she associated with the thing. "Velia's got the girl dancing in the palm of her hand."

"She deserves better than her." Krystyn choked.

A slender arm wrapped around Krystyn and tugged her close. It was a weird comfort. Any other day, Manya showing pity on her and cooing soothing words into her ears would have made her violent and angry. But she could use a friend right now.

"Velia keeps Ilina in line with neglect, and rations out attention and praise." Manya's voice had a little sing-song quality to it at this point. "That kind of control gets weak when there's someone like you around who isn't holding back. I think you've still got a shot."

Krystyn turned to look at Manya, smiling as best she could. "You just want to keep watching me fail."

"I want to see you break and cry your fucking heart out on the floor," the viper's grin returned suddenly. It had been lurking the whole time, just like Krystyn knew it would be. "And your dearest, beloved Manya, your only friend in the whole universe, will be here as always to pick up the pieces like she always does."

Manya wasn't a great friend and a part of it was that circumstance meant they had to get along. For six years they only had each other to turn to. Nobody to send letters home to, nobody waiting for their safe return, nobody else to lick their wounds. It had been so long since Krystyn last needed to be consoled like this that she'd forgotten Manya was nominally capable of it, however combative and snide she could get about it. Krystyn would do the same for her too, if Manya ever seemed to have a genuine feeling.

"Only a monster could ever love a monster, right?"

"I don't even think a monster could love you, Charlotte." Manya nuzzled her as she whispered those dreadful words. That was just how she was.

She'd started to calm down. No idea what to do next. It was too late to go running after Ilina and try to track her down. Too many hiding spots and she could have left the pilot's floor. Eventually she pushed herself up to her feet and started picking everything up and tidying the room. There weren't room inspections, but she still cleaned like there would be.

The strap was small. Which was to say it was slightly below average. Unseen before on a toy, but pretty common among the real thing. "Hey," she held it up to Manya, "you're the one that picked this out. Why this size?"

Manya was helping tidy up. Folding and sorting the clothes. She turned with a little grin. "She was taking it so seriously, girl. If I gave her anything bigger for her first time she'd get way too embarrassed seeing it flop around."

Pfft. The two of them started laughing together. That would have been funny to see. Maybe they should get a larger toy for next time after she'd gotten Ilina cornered again so she couldn't just run away. Or maybe it would be funnier to let her run away with it on.

The devil wasn't the best friend one could ask for, but she was there when it counted and a lot of times that was all that mattered.

"Alas," Morian Kyrnn yawned as she stood up from a small couch at the back of the small one-person bedroom where she appeared to be having a nap. "You've become an exhibitionist? I shouldn't be surprised."

Morian offered Ilina a spare pair of underwear – Ilina left a change of clothes in Morian's room just in case she ever needed somewhere to be – and got her settled on the bed and wrapped in a fuzzy throw-blanket patterned with little dancing skeletons in festive hats. She hadn't asked what happened, and probably wouldn't ask unless Ilina wanted her too. Instead she fetched Ilina a covered mug and hot chocolate.

"Thanks," Ilina smiled through the tears streaking down her cheeks.

Morian brewed herself coffee. Black, as always. And sat at her little office chair opposite Ilina.

"Do you want me to turn on music?"

"Pass."

"Silence it is, then."

The silence was nice. Morian opted not to light a cigarette which was rare. So the two of them sat and had their drinks in peaceful company. Morian took the empty mug from Ilina and washed it in the bathroom sink, drying it with a towel and securing it in a little drawer. The doctor had managed to replicate her general patterns of life on the Gestalt rather well. The Gestalt reminded her of Carrion's offices generally, windowless and grey and oppressively devoid of character.

Morian had decorated her personal room in dark colors and large horror movie posters. Ilina had seen each one dozens of times with Morian, and often with the Fiends. The ceiling was covered in a dark cloth, secured with strong magnets to keep it firmly in place. On Morian's desk was the little projector that would paint the room with the night sky of a planet somewhere far away that Morian wouldn't talk about. The necromancer was a woman built of sentimentality and nostalgic memories.

"So, I got a strap," Ilina said quietly. She did want to talk about it. Morian always had advice, and even when it wasn't good advice it was often enough to give her an idea of what she should be doing.

At Ilina's first breath, Morian hummed. "I should have Velia change her diet then."

What? When Morian caught the confusion on Ilina's face she grinned, and Ilina was awash with embarrassment. It took her too long to catch on.

"I got it for Krystyn," Ilina coughed, and pulled the blanket tighter around her.

Morian didn't seem to be planning any further interruptions, so Ilina took her time explaining the situation. What she wanted to happen. What had actually happened. And what was said. The doctor listened patiently to every word and nodded along. Asked clarifying questions. She was a good listener, and genuinely cared.

"She said she loved me." Ilina buried her face in her blanket.

"And you ran away."

"And I ran away."

"Well, I don't think that sends a good message," Morian's voice was cheery, but in a supportive way. She wasn't making light of Ilina. She never did. A nervous cheer and dark humor, to show they were on the same side. "Do you think she meant it?"

That eerie, tender look on Krystyn's face haunted her. She looked so much softer than she always did. Soft really was the word for it. Big wet looking eyes. Disgustingly vulnerable. Of course the woman meant it. That was what terrified Ilina. How was she supposed to process that? Ilina could only nod to Morian's question.

"How do you feel about her?"

There was a viper's nest in her chest full of feelings that she couldn't identify. She'd shared things with Krystyn that she'd never told anyone else – not even Morian – and she wanted to be near her a lot. Despite how the two had started off, Krystyn felt safe and comfortable. They had good chemistry, and Krystyn reacted well to Ilina's provocations.

"I think I like her," Ilina admitted. "More than a friend, I guess?"

"More than Velia?"

"No," Ilina snapped. "Of course not. I love Velia. I can't leave her."

Morian stood up and stretched. "Why not? I think you've probably outgrown her by now." What? What does that mean? "You needed her when she would shield you from malicious actors you couldn't fight your way through. But now there's nobody here trying to hurt you, and you can take care of yourself."

That was right. Morian could just throw people away. She didn't let herself get attached to corpses or people. But regular people weren't like that. Regular people grew disgusting attachments to each other. They let themselves be vulnerable and seen. They gave of themselves to each other. Or at least that's what the Butcher told her. It was vague, but mama probably said something similar too.

"You don't need Velia anymore," Morian sat down on the bed with Ilina. "This is a personal observation, but it seems like Krystyn sees the same things in you that I do. She'd be much better for you than Velia is."

"There's nothing wrong with Velia!" Ilina wanted to raise her voice, to shout at Morian to shut up. But she just couldn't.

"She is a possessive narcissist. That's not a condemnation," Morian put out both her hands in some pacifying gesture. "But the way she feels about you is fundamentally different than how you feel about her. You make her feel like she's in control, but now she has other avenues for that feeling. She no longer needs you. Both of you have grown and your relationship will change."

The worst thing about talking to Morian that she made a lot of sense. Morian had never lied to her before. Or at least not maliciously, with an intent to hurt her. The doctor had told her plenty of little lies to guide Ilina to her own conclusions or to urge her to do her best. But this wasn't one of those lies. Velia had been getting more distant. They felt close for a little bit, but it was getting worse again.

The doctor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Growth and change are good things. I don't see a reason you shouldn't give Krystyn a chance."

"But I liked how things were before," Ilina muttered.

The gentle hand squeezed tightly before being pulled back. Morian sighed some deep frustration she'd been holding inside. She took off her glasses and wiped them clean with some lens wipe from her lab coat. She put them back on and examined Ilina closely. Less than impressed, suddenly.

"The Hunter I admired for all those years wasn't the kind of girl to choose a comfortable, familiar hell," her smoke-ravaged voice triggered Ilina's fight-or-flight instincts. But she couldn't move. Her body chose the third option: freeze. "Do you remember what you told me, when we first met?"

Ilina shook her head slowly. She couldn't remember their first meeting.

"I asked you what such a young kid was doing trying to hack a downed Doru in the middle of a combat zone. Do you remember that?" It was a vague memory. She remembered it, but didn't recognize Morian. It wouldn't be until years later that they met again. "I bought what information you pulled off the system, gave you some rations, and asked what you were going to do with the money. Do you remember what you told me back then?"

"No, of course I don't. I was what, sixteen or something?"

"You told me that you were going to buy your way into the imperial core, find the two women who abandoned you, and prove to them that they were wrong about you. You would show them you were strong."

Ilina shifted under the blanket. She did remember that. It was the thought that had carried her so far, for so many years. A stupid dream of a struggling, resentful child. She would show up in front of her parents and they would apologize for leaving her behind. For beating her senseless for years and lamenting how inept she was. They would see that they were wrong. They would take her in and listen to everything she had to do to make it and they would be so proud of her.

But what did it matter now? What good did it do her? It was a stupid dream then, and even more now.

Morian tilted Ilina's head up from the bed and locked eyes with her. "Nobody who was only fighting to see the next sunrise would go to the lengths you did. Nobody who was seeking comfort or stability would have taken the risks you did. If you are telling me that this is the end of Hunter Falke then I will be severely disappointed."

"I'm not a kid anymore," Ilina brushed Morian's hand away. "I don't even know where I would look for them now. They're probably dead by now."

The Corpse Eater smiled that dreadful toothy smile of hers. "I know where they are."

"Where?"

The Corpse Eater hummed and leaned this way and that, almost falling over at least once. "What would you do if I told you?"

Hunter lunged at the Corpse Eater, pinning it under her weight. The awful creature was always so frail looking and truly didn't seem to have the strength to fight her off. "Where are they?"

"Irene Hunter-Falke is a Domon Imperial Intelligence Officer, first class, working on a station in Central Domon," the Corpse Eater laughed. Excited by the violence. Renewed by the fire in Hunter's eyes. "Adeline Falke died in an airstrike on an airport while waiting for a plane bound for Cryse, six hours after Irene's own plane departed. Presumably she was going to attempt to convince her dearly beloved to return home to her wife and daughter."

"How long have you known?"

"Since before you signed your first contract at Carrion. When you were ready to move on, I was going to arrange things so you could go see her yourself," the woman's voice pitched down suddenly. An edge meant to threaten or demean. It didn't work. "But you seemed happy to stay for four years. I should thank Elisabet for giving me a reason to get you off-world and get you back in gear."

Hunter let her go and sat back, breathing to calm herself. Morian had good intentions. She had to tell herself that. She had to believe it. Because nobody else believed in her the way Morian did. Such unfounded confidence in her abilities and her motivation.

"Five months," Morian said from her back, unmoving. "It'll be about five months until we get close enough that we can force a detour to see her. You have until then to figure out what you're going to do after."

While Morian took a breath to continue, Ilina cut in already knowing what she was about to say. "So I should give Krystyn a chance, right?" She wanted to scream. Morian would probably join her if she did. "She's really sensitive. I don't want to go back to her sobbing in the dark or something. Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course," Morian threw herself to her feet and stretched. "Hey, I found a new movie. Wanna watch?"

Just like every movie Morian showed her, it was exceptionally bad. A low-budget horror that had decent practical effects but a shoddy use of lighting. It lacked the craft of some of the better films Morian had shown her. But it took the edge off things. They sat on the bed against the wall, watching the movie on a wall-mounted screen.

And once more in those quiet, dim moments alone together that disgusting feeling rose in Ilina's chest, wishing that the Corpse Eater would touch her just once, even by accident. If she ever told Morian about that feeling, she'd get a lecture about sexual trauma and how it manifests. She would explain that Ilina only knowing how to express herself and forge connections through sexual encounters was an unhealthy habit that Ilina had to work to break.

Morian would tell her that to grow. To heal. To love. These were the domains of the living. It was Ilina's duty to face them until she died. Or perhaps the order was reversed, that Ilina would die when she stopped engaging in those things.

But maybe dying wouldn't be so bad if it meant getting to stay with Morian. Maybe that's why none of the Fiends had any regrets. If Morian knew about the swirling, bottomless pit in her, the necromancer would surely abandon her too. But there was no hell more comfortable than being by the Corpse Eater's side.

She would give Krystyn a chance. She had to. After all, Morian had never told Ilina to do anything she couldn't do before.