The Puppeteer and The Poisoned Pawn: Chapter 36
“We’ve waited long enough for answers. I think it’s time you give them to us,” Dessin says over the sound of rushing water.
We take a seat next to him while the others wait back in the trees. Judas doesn’t acknowledge us. He isn’t even surprised that we found him.
“I got your message,” he says to me with an amused smile. “That was quite a performance to watch from afar.”
The fire. He watched it burn down. “Does that upset you?”
Dessin and I watch Judas as he sits in silence, thinking long and hard over my question.
“I’ve been waiting for that day my entire life.” He smiles absently at the small ripples of water beneath our feet. “The woman who once brought compassion to the Emerald Prison will one day bring fire. And with her new reckoning, the enemy is doomed to fail.”
That sounds like…
“It’s part of our prophecy,” he says.
“Who’s our?”
“The Crimson Kres. The colony that went missing. We’ve been with you all along.”
Dessin and I exchange a look. Runa told us that there were rumors of the Crimson Kres. That they blended into our society. Spies.
“You’re going to have to explain this. My brain is doing backflips,” I say.
“It goes back a couple of generations, back when settlers first came. I was raised in the city, in a prestigious family, told that one day I’ll welcome both of you into the asylum. I was to observe and only help if it was imperative to ensure the success of the prophecy.”
Dessin glares at him impatiently. Judas continues.
“My grandmother married Orin Blackforth. The other founder of Demechnef—or formerly known as Demechforth.” He turns to face me. “Our family line knew we needed to get close to Vlademur and his son, the two members of Demechnef that would lead the experiments on you two.”
Each piece of the puzzle clicks in place. But there’s something about that statement that triggers alarm bells in my head. He’s a Blackforth…
“Oh my god!” I hiss, gawking like he’s just grown another head. “You—you’re related to Aurick’s fiancé?! To Red?”
“Her name is Marilynn.” Did he just say is? As in present tense? “I believe you know her as Lynn.”
I arch an eyebrow. “I don’t know a Lynn—”
But the name—not even a tangible object, but a single word, a syllable—pushes me under that veil. And I see it. The moment Judas sent me to a retired conformist. The woman with voluptuous red hair that made sure I was mentally well enough to return to the asylum after my run-in with Dessin.
I’ve met Aurick’s fiancé! “Holy shit,” I breathe out. “She’s alive?”
“Yes—”
“Does Aurick know she’s alive?” My mind spirals with questions. I trace over every small conversation where Aurick discussed the love of his life that died too young. He blamed Vexamen for that.
“No. Everyone who knows her believes she is dead. It was getting too risky for her to be that close to the mission. Vlademur assaulted her. Masten was on to her, tracking her every move. It made the most sense to fake her own death and work behind the scenes.”
“But,”—I blink twice—“why did my father have a letter that stated Masten was the one to kill Marilynn? And how did he know?”
Judas smiles to himself. “Because she’s the one who told Jack. She knew one day you’d need that leverage over Demechnef. Told Jack to hide it in the house for one of you to find.”
“So you two have supposedly been helping us this entire time? For a prophecy?” Dessin asks in disbelief.
“I know it sounds unconventional. But it’s not just a prophecy. It’s the prophecy. The one that will bring about a new era of civilization. One that will end this absurd societal misogyny and glamorized cultism. It’s a war that only the two of you can win for us. It’s a war that will stop Vexamen from stealing babies from the crib and training them to be ruthless, psychopathic soldiers. It’s your war.” Judas is calm and at ease with this belief. He sounds perfectly sane. “We had to make sure it happened exactly how our ancestors predicted it would. We had to be the shadows in your corner.”
“How have you helped the prophecy?” I ask.
“I’m the one that warned your parents of what was to come. I helped prepare them, mentally and physically. I told them the prophecies. Explained your destinies.”
“You let them die horrible deaths even though you had the means to prevent it?” Dessin’s eyes flare with cold rage.
“Their deaths are not in vain. They knew what they were perishing for.”
Dessin scoffs in his face, rising to his feet abruptly. “You’re fucking useless. We sought you out, hoping you could help keep Demechnef from controlling us long enough to end this war. But you’re just a brainwashed cult member.”
I stand with Dessin.
“Where can we find Marilynn? Maybe I can use her as leverage to get Aurick to let us call the shots.”
Judas shakes his head. “She won’t come out of hiding. I don’t even know her latest location. After the abuse she suffered from Aurick’s father, she’ll never return to his son. Not ever.”
I throw my arms in the air with a dramatic sigh. “Great. That’s great. What does your precious prophecy say about this, then? How are we supposed to go about this without the government abducting our friends and using their lives against us? How are we supposed to survive this without being pawns in the game?”
“It’s you, Miss Ambrose. You are the one that will turn the tides for Demechnef. It’s predicted that you will use your broken mind to change the son of the tyrant.”
I stare into his eyes, cold and aged with wisdom. I’m not sure what he expects me to do with that, yet that beast inside of me that set fire to the asylum perks her head up at his words. She seems to know exactly what to do.