Levi didn't want the building to blow with him and Petra still in it. Fuck, he wasn't sure if they could even make it out of the blast radius before Erwin went off, but he was determined to try. Kuchel right now would be tucked into bed, sailing off to sleep. She was not going to be made an orphan tonight. He wouldn't fucking allow it.
"Petra." He flung open the door, ready to tell her to leave with the clothes on her back and take nothing. But the room was dark and empty.
The fuck?
Where would she have gone? Had she figured out things were fucked and run for the river? But why not wait for him? Besides, she couldn't know the shit Erwin had just waded into. If she was out having a fucking tea party with Clara Tybur he'd put her in a sack and carry her around for the rest of her life so she couldn't wander off anymore.
He'd…
The idea came, and it stopped him cold.
No.
All the while they'd made love this afternoon, she'd interspersed it with moments of grief. We told her. We told her no.
"Shit."
Levi opened the shutters and leapt over the balcony's railing. He darted across the lawn, headed for the doctor's house. That brave, sweet, selfless woman. He was going to kill her.
"I don't know what you're saying." Petra acted appalled. "Maybe I feel sorry for these poor creatures, but that's no reason to assume I'm one of them!"
"Stop playing games." Fischer closed the door and pulled two things from his pockets. One was a bloodstained handkerchief. The other was a gun. Fuck. "I had my suspicions this afternoon, during your examination. You claimed you'd never been pregnant." He smiled. "Yet your preliminary exam showed me that you'd had a child. Specialists can tell those sort of things."
Idiot. What a fool she was.
"All right." Act. She had to act. "I…I got pregnant when I was sixteen and gave the baby away. I didn't want Karl to know. But I don't see how you think I'm an—"
"I figured a mysterious woman who'd lie about such a thing might lie about something even more sinister. I decided to test you. I gauged your reaction to my specimens." Specimens. Fuck him. "You were as heartbroken as I thought you'd be. And finally, this." He held up the bloodied handkerchief, the one he'd used to bind her injured hand. "I needed one sample of your blood to be sure. And now I am."
She had to do what she could to save Erwin and Levi.
"Please," she whispered. "Karl doesn't know. I don't want him to know."
"I think after my little discovery the government will require a blood test from Mr. Smith. And his bodyguard. We'll see if they'll be shipped off to Paradise. But you." He approached her now with barely contained excitement. "I'm going to ask them to let me have you. These others are getting stale." He vaguely gestured to the cages. "I need a fresh subject."
Time slowed, as it often did for her on the battlefield. If Fischer grabbed her, Erwin and Levi were screwed. If he killed her, Erwin and Levi were screwed. There was one, and only one chance to survive.
Petra felt the most incredible calm wash over her.
"Now. If you don't want me to blow your pretty head off, lie down on the ground and put your hands behind your back."
"You're making a mistake," she said softly. She backed up into the small table beside Inga's cage.
"You have three seconds, or I will shoot." His voice was dispassionate. The glee was all internal, buried deep within his heart. This was a man who had indeed treated many poor women of neighboring villages for free. He'd delivered babies for rich and impoverished alike. He was clearly a very good doctor.
But he was also a torturing bastard.
"You said you'd send them to Paradise," Petra said softly. She felt the spray bottle in her hand, the one he'd used on Inga earlier. She peeked up at Fischer through her bangs, and sneered. "We come from Paradise."
That startled Fischer, and that was all she needed. Petra sprayed the doctor in the face. He screamed, and fired a round. It was deafening, but Petra took the chance. She knocked the gun out of his hand and put his arm in a joint lock. Fischer went to the floor. His glasses fell off. Petra could see that they'd borne the brunt of the spray, so he wasn't in such bad shape.
"The fuck," he spluttered as Petra put extra pressure on the joint.
"I am one of those island devils you people hate so much," she snarled. Looking at this plump, complacent man, all she could see was hateful ignorance. An inhumanity she couldn't have imagined. "I've spent years battling the titans you people sent to keep us caged in behind our walls. I've fought the roughest gangs in the capital's underground. Do you think I'd ever let a worm like you take me down?"
Petra was not an Ackerman by blood. She did not know what their awakenings felt like, but she could imagine it now. She had never felt as strong as she did now. The world seemed lit with electricity; everything was so bright and clear. The fear was entirely gone.
She glanced at the gun lying on the floor. Pick it up, shoot him, and be done with it. She'd told him what they were. He already knew she was Eldian.
A world in which she, Erwin, and Levi made it back home was a world in which this man couldn't be alive.
I have to do this.
She wished suddenly and entirely that Levi were here. She winced; she wanted him to do the dirty work for her. Petra didn't want to lose this last trace of innocence.
She had to, though.
"Please."
The man started blubbering. He shook in Petra's grasp, bawling into the floor. "Please don't kill me! I don't want to die. I don't want to die. Please. Please don't."
"Shut up," she snapped.
"Please! Please don't kill me. Please, please."
He whimpered. It was pathetic, but…
Could she kill a defenseless man?
He's a monster. He's tortured these girls. He wanted to make you his slave. Levi needs you to do this.
But Fischer just kept crying, and Petra could not find it in herself to simply execute him.
"Stop," she muttered. He slumped further in her grasp. That loosened her hold on him.
That one second was all it took.
Fischer grabbed the gun, turned, and fired point blank.
But Petra was too fast for him. She'd already dodged before he aimed. She grabbed the man by the head, tackling him to the ground. She got him in a headlock, the one Levi had taught her. It was effective, but like it or not even a highly trained female soldier didn't have the pound-for-pound strength of an average man. Levi had always told his soldiers to finish a physical fight as quickly as possible, especially the women. The longer a woman went up against a man, the likelier it was that she'd lose. Simple, unfair biology.
If Petra didn't move fast, she would lose. Fischer struggled in her grasp, and even in the headlock she felt him breaking free.
"Eldian bitch! Whore! Fucking breeding bitch!" he screamed.
He would have put her daughter in one of those cages. He would have vivisected Kuchel while she screamed. He would have scooped out her organs and turned her into a living shell of herself. The thought of him doing such a thing to her daughter sent a rush of strength through her body. She snarled.
"Shut. Up."
Petra gripped his head and gave one swift, wrenching twist to the side. She heard the snap, felt the tremors go up her arm. She lay beneath the crumpled figure of the now very dead Fischer. Someone in the room was breathing erratically; it was her. Petra rolled the body off and got to her feet. She looked down on the man. His lips were parted, his eyes already glazed over. His head was bent at an unnatural angle. He was dead. She'd killed him.
I took a human life.
She had killed people as titans, but by the time she went up against them they were something else. Something pitiful. Unintelligent. Killing was really a mercy. This was the first time she'd killed a true human.
And the worst part was that she didn't hate herself for it.
Petra's hands shook. Her knees gave out, and she folded next to the body. She hated him now, even in death. But he was dead. And she had done it.
She hurked a few times, but didn't throw up. Petra pressed her forehead to the carpet and took long, shuddering breaths. She was a murderer. No way to dress it up, that's what she was.
"Hey. Hey!" Inga rattled the bars. "Check him for a key. Hurry!"
Yes. She came back to herself somewhat, even though she was numb. When she felt again, it would be awful. But Petra needed to finish this, so she searched the doctor's pockets. She found a key in his breast pocket, but it wasn't for the cages. It locked and unlocked the door. Much good that did.
"Okay. I, I can do this." She staggered almost drunkenly and picked up the hairpin. Her vision wavered; if she passed out now, they were all dead. Inga looked terrified.
"You can do it. Come on!"
Yes. The girls needed her. Petra went back to working on the lock.
She felt him in the doorway before she heard his approach. Inga screamed, backing against the cage, and Petra wanted to tell her it was okay. It was her husband. He was the only man who'd know she'd come here, who'd follow her anywhere.
"Levi." Petra almost cried in relief as she turned around.
"Sorry to disappoint," said Zeke. He leaned against the doorframe and studied Fischer's body. He lifted his eyebrows. "You really have been busy, haven't you?"
When Erwin was a boy of about eight, he'd been alone. His father had been alive, of course, but Erwin had not been good at making friends. Ironically, he hadn't been a good-looking child, a bit round-faced with those enormous eyebrows and that protruding nose. He also had a habit of correcting kids' mistakes in class, unasked. One day he came home crying. His father had been in the middle of grading tests, but put them aside and sat his son at the table.
'What's wrong, Erwin?'
'They say I have a creepy smile. They say I'm a freak. I tried to join a game and they told me to go away.' He started crying so hard that his father hugged him. Papa had always smelled of pipe tobacco, though he rarely smoked it. Erwin pressed his face to his father's chest and listened to his heartbeat. When he calmed down, his father gave him some advice.
'If you want to get along with other people, look at them and ask yourself what kind of people they like to be around. Those kids from school, for example. Can you tell what they like about each other?'
Well, some of the boys were loud and annoying, but generally they liked laughing. They always laughed at one another's jokes. Erwin didn't unless they were funny, which they often weren't. If they helped one another with schoolwork, they usually waited to be asked instead of just bluntly telling someone what they were doing wrong.
'Do I have to laugh when jokes aren't funny?' He didn't want to be someone else.
'It doesn't have to be a big laugh. When people tell jokes, they feel uncomfortable when people don't laugh. Just a smile will do. And instead of constantly correcting, you should compliment people when you see them doing a good job at something. Like if Ana paints a nice picture, or Einar did really well in a ball game. People like to be liked. If you like them, they'll like you.'
Erwin sniffed. 'What about my smile?'
Papa frowned. 'I don't see anything wrong with your smile.'
So Erwin followed his advice. The next day, he found his way into a group of kids. Fritz told an obnoxious joke, but Erwin laughed along. He found it was easier to fit in. They asked him to play with them, and he made sure to tell them when they did a good job, or to compliment them some other way. Over time, he became liked. The others wanted to play when he suggested a game. In fact, he became one of the popular boys.
It was a little game he played. His father never suggested Erwin change himself to suit others, just to adjust his reactions to them. As such, he started divvying the kids up into those who he felt could be real friends, and those he called his 'play' friends. He was equally nice to all of them, but felt truly good when the real friends liked him.
Then Papa died. Erwin was taken from his town to Mitras, to his aunt and uncle's house. And there, his aunt had given him a more thorough education.
'In this world, Erwin, you can be yourself with only a select few.' She said this to him as he stood in front of her in the parlor. She often made him stand there when he needed to be disciplined. She smoked cigarettes; Erwin loathed the smell. As she gave an elegant puff, she sized him up. 'When you're facing someone who's of greater rank than you, figure out what his weakness is. Or what he wants most. Or what hurts him most. Once you know those things, you can bend him to your will. It takes time to learn, of course, but you're still young. You have plenty of time.'
Erwin had been an adept student of her teachings. The day before he left forever, the day before his nineteenth birthday, she'd told him he had made her proud. She'd expected him to go to the university in Wall Sina, start politicking at court. Instead he'd looked her in the eyes as she reached up to stroke his hair, one of the few times she offered an affectionate gesture.
'I'm joining the Survey Corps,' he said. She froze. 'And I will never see you again.'
Her face paled when he said that. From age fourteen on, he'd worked hard to make her like him. He'd made her see him as a project she was managing splendidly. He'd taken all he could from her and her husband, the education and the lodging, the lessons, the introductions. He'd played them until the second he didn't need them anymore. Now he was done with them.
'Why?' She seemed truly at a loss. She had a pale, narrow face. If she looked like his mother, he didn't know. He couldn't remember her features.
'Because I don't like you,' he said coolly. Then he'd gone upstairs to pack.
Her husband, his uncle, died five years ago. Erwin hadn't gone to the funeral.
When Erwin saw that look of utter shock on her face, he knew that he had mastered her game, that he played it better than she could. He didn't want to. He wanted to find open people, honest people, talented people whom he could call his friends. His real friends. But if he had to, he could do what she did. He could manipulate.
And now, his father's teachings and his aunt's intersected. He had one chance to prove he had mastered this game. Or everything was over. This man was just another 'play' friend; Willy Tybur simply held more power than a god.
Think. Think. What does this man want? What drives him?
His sister holds the War Hammer.
His wife hates him for his Eldian blood.
Sins of their family. Not sins of Eldia. The Tyburs. What is their sin?
Guilt? Eldians in Marley at least have a few rights. He procured those for them. Why be guilty for that?
The military comes to talk to Willy Tybur. They seek his counsel and advice. Why? He is a free Eldian, a respected Eldian, but he is still only a private citizen. A bit of a politician, but that's due to being the face of Eldians worldwide.
So why should the military government seek his advice?
Who is in charge here?
Who is the enemy?
Who is the—
It all came together in a breathtaking snap of white. Erwin felt every muscle in his body relax, even as Willy began laying into him.
"The Brothers and Sisters of Helos, that was the church your father was a missionary for, yes?" Erwin didn't reply. "You said you were in the Mid-East, near Fort Slava. I'm sure you chose that organization because it's common knowledge that the BASH, as we like to call them, kept phenomenally poor records. But you're forty years old, or thereabouts. I'm certain you didn't know that up until 821, the BASH were being scrutinized by the Marleyan government. The military feared they were radicalizing ordinary citizens to try annihilating all Eldians in a bid for peace. Eldian hatred is good, but must be kept to a simmer, never brought to boil. They're useful, after all. We have all the names of all the missionaries from that time period on file. Meticulous work, you see. There is only one Smith on record from 800-810. Wilhelm Smith. Unmarried. No children. I looked into him, found he was in a lifelong partnership with someone named Kurt. And that he'd done his missionary work in Hizuru and Nambia. Never the Mid-East." Willy and Magath stared at Erwin, looked through him. "I want to know why you would lie about something like that."
Sins of our family.
People want to be liked. They want to see themselves in you. They like themselves.
Erwin wet his lips. "Shame," he whispered.
"Excuse me?"
"Shame." Erwin said it with conviction, such conviction that it took both men aback. "Because my father—my real father—his sins haunt me to this day."
Something moved in Willy Tybur's eyes, but it vanished immediately.
"What do you mean?"
He thought of Levi's mother, Kuchel, the epitome of a martyr. An impoverished woman with a charitable heart, loving despite the beating she took from the world.
"My mother was a prostitute," he said gruffly. Levi had told him enough about those days in the underground, the smell of sweat and sex, the filthy floor, the clients who would hurt Kuchel, or Levi. Erwin felt those stories in the marrow of his bones, and he knew that translated. The men were now listening to him. "She was Mid-Eastern. That was one thing I wanted to hide. I'm not a pureblood Marleyan." Indeed, only too true. That truth registered again with Willy and Magath.
"And your father was Marleyan?" Willy asked.
"Yes. But he wasn't a missionary. I lied about that to make myself sound good. To suggest I came from a zealous, patriotic background." His face crumpled, and he was barely acting now. The fear had him in near collapse. Think, and fast. What was one profession his father could have that they would not be able to trace?
Kenny Ackerman. Levi's family history colored Erwin's.
"My mother and I were never sure what precisely he'd been before coming to the Mid-East, but given his associates around Fort Slava, it's likely he'd been some level of criminal. He came from Liberio. The truth is, my last name likely isn't Smith. He used different names when he had to move to different cities. If he was on the run from Marleyan justice, he wouldn't have kept his real name. I don't know who I am." He clenched his fists. The shame of using Levi's life as his own, taking everything from his best friend, turned him red with self-hatred. And it showed on his face. It was real.
"I at least know he was my real father. He and his gang entered the whorehouse one night and took what women they wanted. They rode into the desert to hide out from the law a while. He was my mother's only client for several months. Then she had me."
Magath now looked blank. Willy frowned.
"He got tired of her when she was pregnant and eventually they brought the women back. She gave birth to me. I lived in the whorehouse until I was four. She died of syphilis—stupidly easy to cure, if you aren't rotting away in the middle of nowhere. They put me in an orphanage in town. I stayed there two years. Hellish as it was, it was paradise in comparison to the whorehouse and what came when my father found me. He discovered I was alone—perhaps he was feeling paternal, but likely it was pride in having a legacy. He carted me around with him. By that point, his hellion days were done. He was mostly an itinerant worker at that point, drifting always from one place to the next. He'd drink. He'd fight. He'd get fired. We'd move on. And this was my first impression of my homeland. My mother and all the other women, or the teachers in the orphanage, they talked of Marley as the wonder of the civilized world. And there I was, with the scum of the earth. Finally, when I was twelve, he about drank himself to death. It meant taking me back to an orphanage, and I couldn't wait." Mid-East orphanages out in the wastelands probably kept poor records. Good luck tracking him there. "But as a parting gift, he told me something that burned like a brand on my soul. He told me that he'd been in the Marleyan military years ago. He said Marley was a great lie. That it was a rotting corpse, the spirit long gone, but one that was being propped up and made to move like it was alive. He said that a country's soul"—and here Erwin looked Willy in the eye—"is its king. But that ours abandoned his duty."
Willy's eyes widened. For a moment, he looked almost faint.
"King Fritz was hardly the soul of the nation," Magath drawled.
"Not Fritz. The one who dethroned him, the true king. But he turned away from his duty, like Fritz had, and gave the country over to a bunch of, in my father's words, lying, thieving scumsuckers in the military. He said Marley was nothing to be proud of. Better to drink yourself to death in a foreign land than take pride in your home."
The idea of it gave Erwin tears that he fought. This was barely an act now, and the men saw it.
Magath looked at Willy. He appeared quietly shocked. Tybur cleared his throat.
"Colonel, would you mind stepping outside?" His tone was genial, but a chill lay beneath it. Magath did as asked. Willy and Erwin stared at one another, energy crackling between them.
"You realize how difficult this story would be to prove?"
"Believe me. That was the reason I came up with the missionary façade in the first place. I guess I never believed you'd go to such lengths." He bowed his head. "Your Majesty."
"Shut up." Willy barely moved his lips. So it was true. Erwin delighted in his own intuition.
"Your family has been content to let Marley bleed itself dry with ceaseless war, to rely solely on the titans for domination. You've let this country go to the brink of destruction. It was your job to save her, and you turned your back." Erwin narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"The Tyburs were never kings." Willy sounded defensive. "We were simply the nearest thing to a centralized authority Marley had once the Titan War had finished."
"And you gave your power away."
Willy came near him, fire in his eyes. "What reason do I have to believe you aren't a spy for the Mid East?"
"Would a spy have made up the indescribably ridiculous story I just told you?"
"I don't know." He stepped back, appraising Erwin. "I just don't know."
"Besides, what harm could it do for the world to know that you're the neglectful leader of this nation?"
There was panic in Willy's eyes, buried deep. This man was a king, essentially, but that was not what he feared getting out. The identity of the War Hammer? But then again, what technology did outside governments have to even attempt to subdue Clara, let alone take her power?
"After all," Erwin said quietly. "Your ancestor and Helos saved this world from evil King Fritz. It would only make sense that you would rule after he was gone." Erwin cocked his head. "Except that Helos only appears in children's stories and textbooks. There's no hard historical record of such a man having ever existed."
"What are you saying?"
"Exactly what I'm saying." Erwin couldn't give away too much. He tested the waters. "I don't think you're afraid I'll tell the Mid-East that you rule Marley from the shadows. I think there's a lie somewhere, right at the base of your family."
"What do you want from me?" Willy snarled. The handsome young man's expression grew so fearsome, Erwin was afraid that Petra had it wrong and this was the inheritor of the War Hammer.
"I want to create the Marley I dreamed of in my childhood." Erwin drew nearer. "I want the vision of prosperity I was promised. I want to see my country safe from dirty backwaters like where I grew up. And I can't get that without you. I enjoy your company." He meant it, too. "I think you're a brilliant man. But you're worthless to me if you shirk your duty."
"I didn't even know what my duty was until four years ago."
He blurted it out in anger, then froze. The pieces conjoined: four years ago, Clara inherited the War Hammer. Four years ago, she saw her ancestors' memories. Four years ago, she told Willy.
"Did you make up Helos? Is he a fabrication?" Erwin pressed Willy now, and the slighter man withdrew a bit. "Because a family that would lie about that would lie about anything. What lies are you hiding?"
"You come into my home as my guest and you interrogate me?" Willy regained his composure. His voice was ice.
"A king has no right to privacy."
"I'm not a king!"
"Because you hate your Eldian blood? Is that it?"
"I'm going to call Magath in here to—"
"Arrest me? Shoot me on sight?" Erwin dared everything now. He laid everything on the table, bet it all on the next thirty seconds. "I have spent my entire life searching for the answers at the heart of my world. Nothing ever added up. I felt like a child fumbling in the dark, looking for a meaning to my life. Why was I born? Why did I have to live in such hell? Why couldn't I have something that was grand, and clean? As soon as I set foot on Marleyan soil, I cried. I knew that I was home, but I also knew that my home was in disarray. The more I read of the Tybur history, the more convinced I became that you are meant to lead us in the open. Rise above your blood. Be greater than it. All I have ever seen in you is a cunning, brilliant, resourceful man with the air of a king. But you spend time floating through parties, smiling, shaking hands, doing what little a socialite can for your country, but this is your time. I started selling arms simply for a chance to meet you, and to ask what I ask now." Erwin knelt at Willy's feet. The younger man gaped in shock. "Become the man you were born to be. The man I would kneel before and follow into hell. Take back your power, stop hiding in the shadows. Wrest control from this puppet military government." Considering Erwin's own role in the long-ago Uprising, this was especially funny. "Forge a new path, one that isn't reliant on war as its reason for and method of existing. Be the man who saved the world. Be the king I've waited for my entire life, the one I dreamed of when I was living on a dirty floor in some obscure desert town. And if you won't, then take the gun I showed Magath and shoot me in the temple, because there is no point to living in a world without order. Hate me for what I'm saying. Hate me for lying. Hate me for hating you. But for my wife's sake, and the sake of all Marley, take back your throne and save us all."
The room was silent. Outside, the jungle gave forth its evening rhapsody. The only movement was the ceiling fan, shifting Willy's long hair ever so slightly. The two men stared at one another. It was an eternity in a second.
"Get up," Willy said softly. There was no anger in him now. Only sadness. "You shouldn't be kneeling to me like this."
"Who else deserves this gesture?"
"It's all a lie." The words were ripped from him. Willy went to the open window to look at the night. Erwin stood, but didn't approach. "Do you know how you make a king, or a legend? Tell a story. A good story, with a hero in a feathered hat and an evil king banished. Common people, the mob that needs to be ruled, don't understand internecine politics. They don't care about the merits of one economic policy over another. To get their cooperation, you only need love. And to get love, you need one good story."
The words resonated deep in his breast. In that moment, Erwin Smith saw the path ahead and knew exactly what he had to do. He would not die tonight. Though soon, some would wish he had.
"Don't tell me how it's a lie. If it's a good story, use it. If one lie gives birth to a greater future for all, it's worth it."
"You think you have some right to talk like this." But Willy sounded hollow.
"If you suffer for what your ancestors did, you won't absolve yourself by hiding. I learned it from my own fractured family. Remake yourself. Remake the world."
Willy turned his face away, and it was then that Erwin saw the man crying. He had won. Minutes passed. Willy got himself under control. Erwin offered a handkerchief. It was refused.
"Should I call Magath back in?" Erwin asked. "What will you tell him?"
"I'll tell him…" Willy looked at Erwin with those black, crackling eyes. He smiled. "That sometimes a good story is true."
Erwin smiled, and looked out the window. He stopped smiling when he saw a dark figure cut across the lawn. Levi? But where was Petra?
"Isn't that your man?" Willy asked. Shit.
"Maybe he senses a threat. He's a bloodhound like that." Erwin gestured. "Come on. I'll go get him."
Petra knelt on the floor; she couldn't feel her legs. Zeke strolled over and oh so casually crouched beside her. He wore a linen suit of cream. He dressed well for an Eldian. The bright armband marking him as other stayed on, of course.
"Any particular reason why he's dead?" Zeke stared at her through those owlish specs, his eyes lazy with enjoyment. He liked watching her squirm on a hook.
"Aren't they reason enough?" she croaked. Inga banged on the cage again. Zeke sniffed.
"Eldian, I assume. Pity. Such a pity. Poor things." There was genuine sympathy in his eyes. "I can't fault you for your reason, but you've really fucked us over. It's hard to imagine Fischer accidentally broke his neck at this angle. Besides, there's also the matter of this." He held up a sheet of paper between two fingers. "I helped myself to a tour of his house when I arrived. He left this tasty detail right out in the open for anyone to find. Lucky for you, I found it."
The blood test confirming her as Eldian. Petra shivered. She reached for the paper, and Zeke snatched it away. He folded it and slid it into a pocket on the inside of his jacket. He gave an oily smile.
"Give it to me."
"I like it where it is."
"If anyone finds that—"
"They won't. Not if I don't want them to. And I won't want them to." He narrowed his eyes. "Provided you do a favor for me."
He was blackmailing her? The bastard, the ape bastard, he—
"Before you hit me, understand something. Without my help, they'll find the good doctor dead. They'll interview everyone in the house. They'll dust for prints and find yours all over this room, and on him." He nodded at Fischer. "They'll detain you. And then…well."
"And you're offering to what? Help me?"
"I can make it so that his body disappears. I can make it so that all evidence is erased. And in return, I ask only one thing." Zeke placed his palms together. "One day, I will go to Paradis. When I do, I want to meet my little brother face to face."
"Eren? Isn't that a given?"
"Your husbands, real and fake, don't trust me. They need me, but I know that they're making headway into Marley in order to need me less. They'll keep Eren from me, especially now they know the power that can spark when royal titan blood meets a free Coordinate. They'll refuse to let me meet Eren in private. That's where you'll come in. Whatever it takes to accommodate me, do it. If you don't…" He patted his breast pocket.
"When I go home, they won't be able to get to me. Your threat's hollow. And they'll be suspicious of why you didn't tell them."
"Anonymous tips come from everywhere, all the time. Truth is, Marleyan authorities care more about knowing whom to crush than they do how the evidence was gathered. Exposing you puts Erwin and Levi at risk. It puts Paradis at risk. If nothing else, it will hurt the Eldians living in Marleyan internment zones. Do you want blood on your hands?"
"I hate you," she whispered. A tear slid down her cheek. This man saw a dead body and two trapped girls, and all he thought of were deals.
"I confess I don't see the appeal of you, either. I have no idea why Levi likes fucking you as much as he does. The way you both gasp and moan mid coitus is disgusting."
She saw red. Petra rose, shaking. He rose with her.
"It was you. Outside my room. Listening. Why?" She curled her lip in disgust.
"I've never liked the idea of intercourse that leaves a chance of someone getting pregnant. Someone's mouth works just fine, same as other non-reproductive orifices. I'm a curious man. And I wanted to know just how weak Levi can become." His lifeless eyes finally caught a spark. "Between you and Commander Handsome, he's a mindless drone."
Petra slapped his face so hard that his glasses flew off. Zeke rubbed his cheek, then picked up his spectacles while she seethed.
"Levi is a better man than you could ever hope to be. And so is Eren." Creepy as the boy had become, there was nothing cruel in him. Not like this freak.
"Attribute my deficiencies to an unhappy childhood." Zeke smirked again. Untouchable. "I don't mind getting a slap. Even if it's from you." He raised an eyebrow. "Do we have a deal? Or should I start calling for help?"
Petra hung her head. She stared at the corpse on the floor. Forgive me, Levi.
"All right," she whispered. "Clean this up. And I'll help you."
"Pleasure doing business." With that, Zeke knelt and fumbled with the body. "If you're looking for a key to the girls' cages, I'll find it. Men hide things in secret ways known only to their own sex. Same with women, I'm sure. Once I release them, I'll put my plan into action."
Petra looked at Inga, who was now weeping with joy. Her tormentor was dead, and they were getting the key to her freedom. Petra reached out and touched hands with her, just once.
"I'll see you sometime," she whispered.
"Thank you." Inga cried; Elsa didn't move.
"Go! The greater the distance between you and this place, the better." Zeke glared at Petra until she backed out of the room. She left the satchel of clothes for the girls, and staggered down the hallway. The corridor seemed to tilt at insane angles. She stumbled against the wall a few times, sagging under the weight of that body.
She'd killed someone. A human being. A monster, yes, but a human being.
As she reached the living room, she spied the door to Fischer's office. The bottles. Why not? She tried opening it, but found it locked. Exasperated, she kicked it open. The lock flew off, and she flipped on a light. Petra rummaged through the drawers, collecting all six or so of the bottles she'd seen this afternoon. Let this whole horrible experience have some reason, besides those poor girls. She slipped the glass bottles into the pockets of her light summer jacket, turned off the lights, and left.
Petra rushed out the front door and down the path, hands over her mouth so she didn't sob. She needed to get back to the house, to her room. She needed Levi.
She needed to forget, but knew she never would.
These poor things. Why be born only to suffer such a fate? If Zeke had any religious beliefs, the sight of these wretched girls would've knocked them away.
He stopped to pick up the gun on the ground, checked the chamber. Four bullets. He shoved it into the band of his pants and continued prodding the body.
"Thank you. What's your name?" The talkative one sniffed. The younger appeared quite mute.
"I don't think we need names." He patted Fischer's pockets, then felt something. He unbuckled and opened the man's pants, wincing as he reached within. Zeke didn't go in much for sexual feelings. He'd let Yelena get on her knees to him a couple of times mostly because she wanted it badly and he was curious. Mostly women, but he'd never dismissed the idea of men. Good idea, really. Generally, slim chance of procreation. This man, however, did not interest him. But maybe he'd…
There. Hanging on a loop just behind the left pocket, a key.
"Smart man. No one would ever want to look here." Zeke yanked off the key and held it up. This had to be for the cages. He smiled; he loved solving puzzles. Always had. Inga gasped, banged on the bars.
"Here. Here. Hurry!"
"In a moment." Zeke pocketed the key, then made a sweep of the room. A fairly standard study, but in the drawer of Fischer's desk he found a flask of, from the smell of it, bourbon, and a half-used carton of cigarettes. A doctor who smokes? Tsk. There was also a book of matches.
Perfect. Zeke took the flask and matches. He went to the body and sprinkled alcohol liberally all over Fischer. He also soaked as much of the floor as he could.
"What're you doing?" the girl asked.
"I'm going to set him on fire. The house will go up in no time, destroying every last trace of evidence."
"Yes. That makes sense. Come on, let us out and let's go."
Oh, the poor thing. Zeke didn't let emotions show much, but he felt actual distress on his face. Fighting it away, he came and knelt before her cage, three feet off. She'd only committed the sin of being born. Hateful parents had put their selfish desire to fuck or to love some tiny baby over the reality of the hell that baby would inhabit.
He could have done it and gone, but after all she'd been through she deserved an explanation.
"Where would you go?"
"Down to the river and then up to Saluzzo."
"They'll catch you." It was a fact. "They'll send you to Paradise. Take it from me, being a pure titan for even thirty seconds is a nightmare you wouldn't wish on anyone."
He had very little recollection of the day he'd eaten Mr. Xavier—dad, his real dad. Over time, he remembered that after injecting himself with the serum the world had gone blurred. It had been like a siren blaring in his head every second. He'd been trapped screaming in a nightmare. When the world went black and he emerged from the titan body, steam rising around him, Zeke had shaken with gratitude. If nothing else, being a shifter meant he would never be able to experience that again.
No. Better anything than that. He felt some guilt for his mother. If he'd known what it would be like, he might not have had the strength to…
Not now.
"We'll hide in the jungle until everyone's gone," she said.
"Even if you do, you can't go to civilization. You'll starve in the woods, or die of some tropical disease. Or thirst, or hunger. You wouldn't thank me for that."
"We'd have a chance." Her voice had an edge now. She was starting to suspect the truth. The girl shook the bars. "Let us out."
"You'll die in the woods or you'll be captured and transported to a living hell. There is no happy ending for you." He meant it. Every word. The poor thing. Zeke sighed. "Besides, I'm afraid you've seen and heard too much. If the authorities captured you, you might do or say anything to avoid being shipped to Paradise."
"I'd never tell. She was kind to us. She wanted to save us."
"She's kind, yes. And utterly common. No brain, none." Zeke took off his glasses; he didn't need them to see, after all, and it was a way of removing a barrier between them. "Don't you understand? You were dead the moment she decided to free you."
"I'm not dead yet." She pounded on the bars. "Let me out! Let me out!" Seeing he wouldn't, she fumbled for something on the floor. A bent hairpin? That idiot Petra. He snatched it and tossed it away. The girl extended her arms through the bars, wailing.
"I can't risk you talking. And it would be wrong to send you to either a lingering death or titanization. You wouldn't thank me." He stood, put his glasses back on. "There's no place in this world for beings like us. Better to have never existed at all. Your parents were selfish. So was Petra. I won't be."
"You crazy bastard!" She screamed, sobbed as he sprinkled more alcohol on the body and the floor. Zeke tossed the empty flask aside, took out the matches, and lit one. "Don't! Don't!"
"I'm sorry. I hope that, if there's existence beyond this, you find some peace."
He tossed the match. Blue flame rippled over the body and in a pool across the carpet. Smoke started rising at once. Zeke headed for the door.
"No! No! Please!" The wailing girl made him stop. She had been tortured her whole life, and now faced an agonizing death. Zeke could be sadistic, but he wasn't a sadist. He looked back, sighed, and then took out the gun from the band of his pants. He emptied the chamber and hurried to kneel before her cage. He placed the bullets and the gun side by side. Would've handed her it already loaded, but she might have shot him.
"Load this. Use it on her first." He nodded to the other girl. She still hadn't moved. "Then yourself. It's all I can give you. And…" He frowned. "I'm truly sorry."
"Wait! Stop!"
Her screams escalated as he made his way out of the fiery room. She screamed until Zeke shut the door. Then, there was no sound at all.
Good. So much easier to move forward when you didn't hear screams. Zeke tossed the key to the cages on the floor and left the house.
Levi ran for the treeline, fists pumping at his sides. He'd get her out of there, and then he'd carry her away bridal style and then when Erwin had exploded the place he would put her in a crate and not let her out until they were back on Paradis. Why? Why had she done this?
Levi glanced left when a figure came down the path, heading away from Fischer's. She was in a jacket, stumbling, and clearly struggling not to cry.
Oh thank fuck.
"Petra!" He turned, gestured to her. She only shook her head and kept running. What the living fuck? What was she doing?
A wash of heat hit the back of Levi's neck. He turned around and saw, through the foliage, a wall of flame rising into the sky. Had to be Fischer's house.
Oh. Fuck.
"Kenny!" Erwin ran up to him, Willy at his side, Magath not far behind. Holy shit, whatever problem had existed between them seemed to be over. The three men stood close together as they gaped in horror at the fire.
"Sam." Willy turned and ran for his house, yelling for help. Erwin put a hand on Levi's shoulder, as if keeping him from moving.
"Is Petra safe?"
"Yeah. I just…yeah." Levi avoided confessing that he'd seen his wife running from the scene of the very probable crime. He cleared his throat. "I'm gonna go check on her again."
"Good. We're not leaving, by the way. All's well." The fire glowed on Erwin's face. It lit his eyes. "All's very well."
Good. Only Erwin could turn a situation like that into a trump card.
Levi ran into the house while servants rushed past him. At this point, the fire was roaring. The whole place had to be engulfed. Levi turned back, frowning as the servants came to stop beside their master. Willy, Erwin, Magath and the others watched the wall of flame. Fuck. Try doing something, assholes.
Then, the wind rustled. From the wrong direction.
As Levi watched, some kind of crystal—titan crystal—grew up around the house. It encased the fire. Within instants, the flame was gone.
"What the—"
Wait. He understood. That fancy crystal shit was the War Hammer at work, huh? But he didn't see any titan around.
Fuck only knew how good these Tybur bastards really were.
So they'd engulfed the house in crystal to keep the flames from spreading, and the lack of oxygen would kill the fire. Kill anyone who was still inside, too, but anyone inside at that point was already dead. Pretty damn practical. At least he didn't have to worry if Petra was in there.
But he was still worried as to what had happened. Levi went back to the house, and returned to Erwin's room. But she still wasn't there. Damn it, where the hell was she?
Petra shut the door to Levi's room. It was smaller than hers, but she saw his clothes neatly put away through the open closet door. The smell of him, the clean soap scent, soothed her nerves as she went and lay down on his bed. She buried her face in his pillow, breathed him in. Tears wet the cloth. Petra gave a few hushed sobs into the pillow, bunching it tighter against her face.
She'd taken a life. A hideous life, but a life. She'd killed someone.
She could never, ever take it back. Zeke could burn the evidence, but he couldn't erase what had happened. She'd go back into that room over and over again for the rest of her life, to see those two girls in their cages, the dead man on the floor.
"I want to go home," she sobbed. She wanted to hold her baby. She wanted to see friendly faces. She wanted to get away from this nightmare, all of its cruelty. She had thought titans were cruel, but they were only forces of nature. They were victims. This was cruelty. This was suffering for the sake of suffering.
Petra felt her heart hardening against them all, desperate to keep the pain at bay. She wanted her husband. She wanted his arms around her.
The door creaked open. Petra gasped and propped herself on her elbows, looking behind her.
Giulia Tybur wobbled in the doorway. Even from here, Petra could smell the booze.
"Knew it," Giulia growled. Petra felt her heart stop, but she continued. "Knew you were fucking each other."
"I…"
The woman marched over to the bed as Petra got up. Giulia's beautiful face was twisted up in anger.
"I never liked you. Never. Only made like I did 'cause Willy said he wanted t'know all about your husband." She belched, put a hand to her mouth. Her shoulders slumped. "Told him I 'spected you were screwin' around. He won't tell your husband, though. Says he respects him too much." She giggled, the sound close to crying. Petra glared at her; she'd had enough shit for one night. For one lifetime. "You're jus' an insipid, boring li'l thing. Of course men like you. Cute li'l mouse. You don't have a clue about the world, do you?"
The irony almost made Petra laugh. But she had no laughter tonight.
"My husband asked about you, too." She leaned nearer. "I told him you were a drunk and sloppy. Nothing interesting about you. No wonder Kenny doesn't want you. Who would?"
She had never been cruel like this before. Consciously. Taking delight in it. But she could still feel the tremor as she snapped Fischer's neck, and she wanted to divorce herself from the trembling woman she'd been. She watched Giulia's face fall as the words landed. Petra left the woman and headed for the door.
"You don't know what it's like."
The words stopped Petra. Giulia spoke them through tears. Her shoulders trembled, heaved as she sobbed and sobbed. Messy, wet sobs. She staggered and sat on the bed, crying her heart out. "You don't know what it's like. No one knows what it's like. No one. No one knows. No one."
She wailed into her hands, bent over with some secret grief. Petra's instinct was to go and comfort her. But that would mean feeling. She couldn't. Not yet. If she felt at all, the dam would burst. Then they would all die.
She walked back into the hallway, and ran almost smack into Levi. He gripped her arms, relief and fury mingling in his gaze.
"Damn you. Where you been?" He hauled her off to another room, and she let him. He pressed her into a closet, turned on the light. They were so near. His soap scent was so close and warm. She almost leaned her cheek against his shoulder, but he radiated fury. "Why the fuck were you…?"
He trailed off when he looked down at her side. Her jacket pocket hung open; a couple of vials of hormones were visible. He looked at her, and she at him. They knew each other.
"I…"
"Listen." He held up a hand. "He's going to want to know everything I know. I can't lie to him." Levi buttoned up the gaping pocket. His eyes stayed on the floor. "This one time, I'm not going to ask. I don't want to know."
He was protecting her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Like I said, I don't know. I don't want to know." He looked at her with rage simmering in his eyes, and she knew that while protected she was not forgiven. "Go back to your room." He opened the door and ushered her out. Petra watched him walk into his bedroom without another word and closed the door. Thirty seconds later, the door opened and he walked Giulia Tybur out. But there was nothing harsh in his treatment. The woman was still sobbing, so he led her over to Petra.
"Mrs. Smith. She's pretty drunk. Can you get her back to her room?"
An order. Petra took Giulia's arm. The woman kept crying and babbling.
"Yes. I can."
She led Giulia along corridors as servants and family members ran around shouting. She saw Clara walk by, eyes downcast and cheeks pale. Petra helped Giulia into her room, sat her on her bed. Then she walked away.
"Good thing I found you there," Giulia said. Petra stopped. "In his room. My husband was with yours when the fire started, and they saw Kenny run across the lawn. They mighta suspected you if I hadn't found you."
Yes. True.
"Thank you," Petra muttered, and left.
It was two before the crystal was down and the fire fully out. Waking at half past five was slow agony, but apparently even fire and death couldn't keep the Tyburs from their "ritual."
Petra gulped coffee, as did Erwin. He hadn't said anything to her of the fire. Levi had told him that he found Petra wandering the hall right after the fire started, so no suspicion there. It really was just going to be a freak accident. Already the whispers had started. Maybe Fischer fell asleep with a lit cigarette. Such things happen. Terrible shame. Such a good man. Nothing left but ashes.
Petra found Zeke in the hall. He seemed fresh and fine. Probably never went to sleep.
"Um." She stopped him as the others gathered, the Tyburs and the grandparents. The four little boys were done up in nice suits, and yawned with exhaustion. The baby started crying. Giulia, hungover as hell, tried soothing him. "Did you…? The, um, the two—"
"I set them free." He was utterly sincere. It was some relief.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Willy said. He was dressed in the old Eldian robes, same as his grandparents. Only Clara was absent. Willy gestured to the back lawn. "Come with me."
There were seats arranged on the back veranda. Dawn was just lighting the treetops, and illuminating the expanse of lawn. The grandparents tottered down the stairs, taking the children to stand at the edge of the lawn. Willy handed thuribles of incense to the elders, and they chanted some old, unknown tongue while waving the fragrant smoke around the children. They giggled, or complained. The baby fell asleep.
"What is this?" Petra whispered to Erwin. Around them, it felt like the world held its breath.
"I don't know."
Levi sat on Erwin's other side, looking sullen as ever. Magath and Zeke were behind them. Erwin had told Petra everything from last night. Apparently they might all have been killed without his quick thinking. More than ever, she was grateful for the commander.
She felt Zeke's oily gaze on her. She should tell Erwin and Levi. She should tell them about the deal. Only…
Zeke would find out. She knew he would. He'd find a way to punish her.
What've I gotten myself into?
Fearful, she gripped Erwin's hand. He squeezed back.
The party gasped when a great burst of lightning appeared in the distant trees. A titan transformation. A hot wind swept through the foliage, blowing the treetops and tossing everyone's hair and clothes. The children laughed and squealed as above the treeline rose the War Hammer.
It was the size of Eren's titan, a pure, milky white with a kind of armored face. It looked like it was wearing a helmet of some kind. Clara.
The War Hammer walked out of the jungle to stand directly before the children. The grandparents moved away. Slowly, the titan knelt before them. There was another wind as it settled. Petra stared at the thing, heart hammering. The grandparents kept singing in that alien tongue and waving incense. Willy watched his children. Not the titan.
Giulia shook badly.
The War Hammer extended its hand. For minutes, the children gasped, or yelled at it, or cheered, or shrieked. Then, slowly, one of the children got up. Cassius, the little one Petra had caught the other day. He toddled over and grabbed the titan's finger. The War Hammer helped him climb into her palm. Cassius looked up in awe, and waved. He giggled. His aunt's titan only watched.
The grandparents went to the titan, this time with a bowl of something. They plucked Cassius out of the War Hammer's hand. Shaking with age, the grandmother dipped her fingers in the bowl and smeared something on Cassius's face. Done, she nodded. The grandfather raised hands over the boy and sang. Cassius watched, sucking his thumb.
Once the song was over, the War Hammer stood and slowly returned to the trees. It would go away now. Its job was done.
But what had happened?
Giulia gave a full-throated sob. It increased in pitch, hysterical. She knocked back her chair and attacked her husband. Willy caught her, held her tight as she battered against him, sobbing and screaming.
"You monster! No! No!"
"Take her," he murmured. Servants pulled her off and escorted the screaming woman into the house. Her wails faded as they took her away.
Willy knelt when Cassius mounted the steps and hugged his child. Petra saw then that he loved his boy.
She saw the tear in his eye. Saw him fight it away.
And she understood. Her heart sank.
Nine years from now, thirteen-year-old Cassius would take the titan serum and devour his aunt to gain the War Hammer's power.
Thirteen years later, twenty-six-year-old Cassius would die to pass on that power.
Giulia and Willy had just watched their son condemned to an early grave.
Cassius looked at the audience and giggled. A strange symbol was painted in red on his forehead.
Petra shut her eyes. She imagined it was Kuchel, and her heart broke for Giulia.
"Now is the time of a new day," Willy said, standing over his little son. The boy grinned, unaware he had just signed his own death warrant. "Now is the beginning of new life."
The door opened, and Clara Tybur stepped out. She stood beside Petra's chair.
She, too, was crying.
Petra nearly ran up the gangplank of the ship. Petra and the men waved goodbye to the Tyburs with the promise to come back soon for a visit. Giulia was sober when they said goodbye. She was shocked when Petra hugged her.
Now, in the first class cabin, she sat on the edge of the bed while Erwin and Levi talked. The ship had just left the Marleyan coast behind.
"You got what you came for?" Levi asked.
"Yes. Exactly what I needed." Erwin looked tired, but content. At least it'd been worth it for someone. The promise to Zeke still sat within her. She wanted to tell Levi. He could help. He could do something.
Or he could get her exposed, and him as well. Zeke was no match for her husband in a physical fight, but Petra got the sense he could outmaneuver Erwin if he wanted.
She had to keep this secret. If she were lucky, Zeke would be dead before she needed to make good on her promise.
"What's the next step?" Levi sat next to her. She placed her hand in his.
"I have to create a really good story," Erwin said simply. "And I want to see how King Tybur goes about asserting his power. I can be there to prod him in the right direction if need be." His eyes gleamed. His smile creeped her out a bit. "We're going to be close friends, he and I. I'll see to it."
"What story?" Petra asked. Erwin sighed.
"When I have it sorted, I'll let you know. In the meantime…" He put on his hat and headed for the door. "I think I'll leave you two alone for a little while. You've earned it." He looked back at them, all sincerity. "I couldn't do without you both."
"Thanks, Erwin," Levi said. Then they were alone. Petra cuddled against her husband, who held her tight. He'd forgiven her for the night of the fire, though he'd be furious if he ever knew what had truly happened.
He'd never know. Her first secret from him lumped in her chest.
"Know this'd be the right time to fuck, but I'm tired." He sounded like it.
"I just want to hold you," she whispered. "I love you more than anything."
He kissed the top of her head. "One day, we'll take Kuchel on a ship like this. Give her everything other kids have. This'll be worth it. Long as I have you, it'll be worth it."
They kissed. Soon they'd be on Paradis, nothing to hide from the world. Petra stood, went to the radio. She turned the knob, and soft music floated across the room.
"Dance with me?" she whispered. Since it was private, Levi obliged. He held her close, her arms around his neck. He swayed side to side with her, kissed her. Their foreheads touched as they moved. Their eyes were shut.
"Let's go home," he murmured.
"Yes." Petra smiled even as she cried. "Home."