Chapter 67: Volume III: Chapter 4: The Mines

“This isn’t going to work,” Mrs. Mathews said.

“It’ll work,” Will’s mother argued.

“It won’t.”

“It will.”

Will watched them stare at each other as their suits flew them closer to the mining colony.

“I don’t know why you’re suddenly against this, Melody. It was your idea,” Will’s mother said.

“My idea was to get help. It did not include you coming along… This is going to be a disaster.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“The last time you saw them, you broke Ryder’s jaw.”

“The last time I saw them, they burned my husband alive.”

Will’s heart stuttered for a man he’d never met, a man he would never meet. He watched his mother’s teeth clench behind her visor. Mrs. Mathews didn’t flinch.

“I don’t think that’s as good of an argument as you think it is.”

His mother rolled her eyes, the tension bleeding off of her. “Will is the rightful king. If nothing else, they’re monarchists… they’ll help.”

Mrs. Mathews let her speed ahead dropping back to float with Will.

“If you say so,” he heard her mutter under her breath.

He couldn’t help but agree.

~*~*~

Their entrance lacked all appearance of pomp and their circumstance soon devolved into a contingent of guards marching them to a room with the barest hint of a throne.

A clean shaven man with earnest eyes froze as they walked in. “Lexy,” he murmured, caught somewhere between a greeting and a wish.

“Weston,” his mother nodded. “May I present a Royal Friend Melody Mathews, I’m sure you remember, and my son… Will.”

The elegance in the introduction was somewhat diminished by the guns pointed at their backs. Weston waved a hand, shock frozen across his face, and the guards slid back. They didn’t leave, but Will’s worry over itchy trigger fingers eased.

“Your Highness.” Weston nodded at Will in deference. Will fought the urge to nod back. He was the Head Point. He looked down to no one. The part he had to play felt wildly out of character.

“Cousin.” He kept his voice clipped.

Weston’s eyes darted between him and his mother. “We were told… we thought you were dead.” His eyes softened in relief.

Hope sparked in Will’s chest. Maybe it wasn’t as much of a lost cause as he’d thought.

“You were misinformed,” his mother said.

“Yes, it’s becoming a habit, I’m afraid.” The pain shining from his cousin’s eyes was unmistakable.

“Is your brother around? We’re in need of assistance, and I know you would be loathe to make a decision on your own.”

Weston flinched.

“James, fetch Ryder, please.”

A guard stepped from his place against the wall, bowed, and left. They heard their return before they saw them.

“… and you’re sure it was Lexy?” An anxious voice asked as the door opened.

“Yes, sir,” the guard replied, both pausing in the entrance.

Ryder spotted them and his next step faltered. His mouth dropped. He snapped it shut remembering himself and adopted the normal arrogance associated with the Fifth Point.

“Lexy,” he greeted strolling forward to stand by his brother. “Last time I saw you, you punched me.” He let a hint of a whine bleed into his tone.

Lexy raised a brow. “Last time I saw you, I had good reason.”

“I should’ve known you were too stubborn to stay dead.”

“Too bad the same can’t be said for George.”

The spark in his eye dimmed. “Whatever you’re doing here, Lexy, you know we can’t help you.”

Weston flicked a glance at his brother. Ryder ignored him.

“I am your Head,” Will tried, mustering as much arrogance as he could.

“Adeline has the Throne.” Ryder sniffed. “You’re barely a myth, a story told to children before bed, nothing more.”

Will glanced at his pocket, his eye catching the green light bleeding through the seems.

“You don’t believe that.” He smirked. Turning, he caught Ryder’s eye. “The Throne is mine, and you know it.”

“Not until you sit on it.”

The light from Will’s pocket dimmed. The hope in his chest fizzled. Ryder had a point. Will had a right to the Throne by birth, but he had to claim it first.

“So help me get there,” he said.

~*~*~*~

Like all royal business, Ryder and Weston invited them to discuss things over a feast. The speed in which it was prepared was truly remarkable, not that anyone actually remarked.

Will dug into the food like man recently rescued from a barren island. Ignoring the decorum taught to him from birth, he scooped a serving of green beans onto his plate while shoveling broccoli into his mouth between chews. Even in the Shack, he’d never been so careless with his manners. Ryder and Weston clearly weren’t big on protocol, they wouldn’t care… probably. Will continued unconcerned.

Ryder and Weston watched from each side of the table. Ryder as the Fifth Point and owner of the… residence… sat at the head while Weston as the Sixth sat at the foot. Will sat at the place of honor at Ryder’s right. His mother sat across from him with Mrs. Mathews to her left. They were staring at Will, too, his mother in horror, Mrs. Mathews in amusement.

“Your son’s developed quite an appetite, Lexy,” Weston said, trying to hide his laugh behind a goblet of wine as he took a sip.

“He’s usually much more… restrained,” she said, shooting Will a meaningful glare.

Will ignored it reaching across the table to get a helping of mashed potatoes. Ryder was quick to move his wine goblet out of the way trying not to sneer at the Head Point.

“I’m afraid our pilot is to blame,” Mrs. Mathews said cutting a small, precise bite from her slice of turkey. “Will’s been restricted to his rations for the duration of our trip, and Mic has a tendency to forget about the more nutritious elements of a human diet.”

“Not one for vegetables, I take it,” Weston said.

Will slowed enough to swallow. He drew the line at talking with his most full. He wasn’t an animal. “When I complained, my next meal ration was carrot cake.”

Weston stumbled over his next sip. A royal would never spew their wine… but it was a close thing. “Ah,” was the only answer he managed.

Will started shoveling green beans into his mouth again. Ryder cleared his throat and wiped his beard with the cloth napkin carefully folded across his lap.

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“Since we’re clearly dispensing with…” He glanced at Will. “Formalities,” he decided on. “Perhaps, we should start in on business.” He turned to Will’s mother. “Why are you here, Lexy?”

She chewed, staring at Ryder, taking her time. Will knew the look, she was deciding how much to reveal. Would she tell him about the state of their ship or keep the information to herself? Would she ask for more than they originally planned or stick to necessities? She’d begun a dance she’d spent most of Will’s childhood teaching him.

Spiking her fork through a piece of broccoli, she answered, “Melting metal.” She took a bite, chewed, swallowed never looking away from Ryder. “We need six liters.”

Ryder’s eyebrows shot up. “Six liters?”

“Mmhm,” she hummed, her knife clinking against her plate as she cut through a piece of meat, “just think of it as one liter per betrayal.”

Will slowed, eating at a normal pace with his usual manners, curious to learn more. He knew his father had died, burned alive in front of the seven points, but that was all. Any information about it on Luna had been redacted, and his mother had never told him before he was forced to flee his uncle’s palace.

“Then why would they all come from me?” Ryder asked.

Will’s mother raised a brow. Ryder shifted.

“Fine, but you tell us your plan.”

She scoffed, a small breath forced from her nose almost imperceptible unless one knew to look. Will knew to look.

“So you can whisper it into Adeline’s ear? I think not,” his mother said.

Weston protested from the opposite side of the table, “We would never—”

“You would never,” she interrupted, “your brother, however…” she let the accusation hang.

Ryder picked up his goblet and took a gulp too large for polite company. He placed it back down with slightly more force than etiquette allowed.

“How long must I pay for the past?” he asked, glaring down at his place setting. Will knew what his mother would say later when they reviewed the dinner, the Fifth and Sixth Points had been away from court for too long. They were too expressive.

“How long have you paid for the past?” Will’s mother countered, her face and tone as neutral as ever.

Will wondered if this was a life he truly wanted, a world of cutting words and slicing accusations, where battles were won and lost across a table filled with more food than he’d seen in a year on Luna. He slipped a hand into his pocket feeling the comforting buzz of his hornet. He wondered if this was how they’d decided to kill his father, a grand feast with a grander scheme. Will forced his face blank.

“Lexy…” Ryder looked up meeting her eye. “Look around you,” he said, a weariness he’d hidden before setting in. “I’m an explorer stuck on a barren astroid condemned to mine it for all its worth before moving on to the next barren astroid… I’ve paid for it every day since the one that mattered.”

Will’s mother lifted her goblet, seeming unconcerned. Will exchanged a glance with Mrs. Mathews. She’d seen it too, then, a fire his mother was barely containing behind a mask of granite. He wondered if he was about to watch a volcano erupt.

“And who’s fault is that?” his mother asked. Her voice was empty, cold, void of anything to lighten the blow, but still… restrained.

Will guessed not.

Ryder hadn’t looked away, a sparrow staring at a mountain. His posture was perfect, it had been since Will had met him, but something made his back straighter, his shoulders wider, his chin higher.

“Mine,” he said. A confession. A man awaiting judgment from the only person who could absolve him.

Will’s mother considered him. “You think my forgiveness will better your circumstances,” she said. She pointedly slid her eyes around the room taking in the Spartan dining hall, metal lining the walls, temporary and plain. It was small for Royal standards, nothing close to the dozens of dining halls Will’s uncle had in his palace on Luna. “It won’t,” she finished, stabbing her next bite with her fork. “In any case, you don’t have it.” She lifted a hand to forestall Ryder’s objection. He stopped mid-breath. “Only Will can reinstate the Fifth Point’s objectives and get you off this rock exploring again, but he would need his Throne.”

Ryder paused, considering. “Who’s to say he would?”

Will didn’t allow his annoyance to show. “You could ask him,” he said, keeping a neutral tone.

Ryder flicked an annoyed glance in his direction before turning back to Will’s mother. Will raised his brow, exchanging another look with Mrs. Mathews before taking his next bite. He knew he wasn’t as polished as he should be yet, but he was still Head Point. He glanced down the table at Weston. The Sixth Point was watching the verbal battle with increasingly deep worry lines. Will was almost concerned.

“My husband valued discovery and the benefits that accompany it. My son was raised to do the same,” Will’s mother said, eyes flashing in a way only he and Mrs. Mathews would spot at Ryder’s snub. “I assure you, his view on the Fifth Point’s purpose will align with his father’s.”

“Hm…” Ryder leaned back, allowing his posture to relax a fraction. “And you would know would you—”

“Ryder,” Weston warned from across the table.

His brother continued, his warning going unheeded, “—how your son was raised?”

Silence reigned. Everyone froze, the clinking of silverware, the swishing of goblets conspicuously absent. Will’s mother stared at Ryder. Her indifference as strong as a glare.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Ryder’s lips quirked. “I’m sure,” he said reaching for his wine. He was the only one to move. “You know Adeline’s new golden boy, yes, a Mr. Johnson? You were old classmates I believe.” When no one answered him, he continued, “Regardless, he’s been spinning some interesting tales, as of late. Normally, I wouldn’t give them a flickering Lux, but the man is the Second Point’s new Lead Researcher. It makes a man wonder how much truth there is to the rumors.”

Will caught his mother’s jaw tick. It was fast and light, barely a flutter, but strong enough for someone trained in court to catch. He’d never seen such a misstep from her during a dinner before.

“Rumors?” she asked, her voice still flawlessly controlled.

“Why, yes,” Ryder said swirling his goblet. He thought he was winning. “Word is you spent half of dear William’s life holed up in a lab on Umbra. We, of course, thought you were dead, but here you are… Tell me, Lexy,” he said, placing his wine down with exaggerated precision, “who exactly raised our Head Point?”

Will flicked a glance toward Mrs. Mathews remembering winters spent huddled in the Shack trying to ward off the cold, extra food rations left beside his lean-to, Lux Diem celebrations spent under the lights.

“He did,” Mrs Mathews answered, her voice filling the silence. “He raised himself, working in a village on Luna, learning to provide and lead, to question and improve. Are those not the values the previous Head reserved for discovery, Fifth Point?”

Ryder’s attention turned to her. “Really?” he asked, his lips quirking. “Tell me, Royal Friend, Melody Mathews, how would you know what lessons my dear cousin learned?”

Will’s blood ran cold. It was a trap. He exchanged a glance with his mother, she’d spotted it, too. He wanted to say something, to help, but it was too late. It was already sprung. They were caught. Their only moves left were to gnaw off their own leg or give Ryder whatever it was he wanted and hope he released them.

“We were there,” Mrs. Mathews said, still unaware of the Fifth Point’s plan.

“Ah, yes… we,” Ryder said, a glint of victory in his eye. “You and the… Neon… correct?”

Will saw the moment realization hit Mrs. Mathews. His heart ached for her as his blood boiled for Mr. Mathews. They’d taken him in, given him clothes and food. They’d taught him everything they could. They didn’t deserve whatever his cousin was about to imply.

“My husband and I did our best to ensure our Head Point was cared for, yes,” Mrs. Mathews said. She narrowed her eyes, “I wonder what you would have done if you had found him.”

Killed him. Will had no doubt. If any of the Points had found him, they would have killed him. They still might.

“Your Head Point,” Ryder said, ignoring her accusation.

“I’m sorry?”

“Cousin Will is your Head Point, not your husband’s,” he said. “You can imagine my concern, then, knowing that the person you’re trying to put on the highest throne in the land was in fact raised by our enemy.”

Silence. The trap tightened. Ryder had played his hand. He planned to taint Will in the same way Adeline had tainted her son. Will wondered if he honestly believed his own delusions.

“Jack isn’t our enemy.” Weston’s voice was quiet from his end of the table but strong.

Ryder blinked. He stared as if he didn’t recognize his brother. “How can you say that?” he asked. Will wasn’t sure if it was because of what Weston had said or because he’d disagreed. When preparing for the visit, his mother had been adamant, the Sixth Point never contradicted the Fifth. “After everything… you truly don’t believe he’s the enemy?”

It was an offer, an opening, take it back and all would be well. Everything would go back to normal. Nothing would change.

“Brother…” Weston said. He looked down, sad like he was finally spotting a rift that had been growing for years. When he looked back up, there was a determination Will hadn't yet seen from his cousin. “There was a time you didn’t believe it either.”

Ryder banged a hand against the metal table. His signet ring collided sounding like a crash of thunder. “Then I woke up,” he yelled, jerking to his feet. His chair flew behind him crashing into the wall. “I stopped living in a dream.”

Weston watched the the Fifth Point erupt, unmoved.

“No brother,” he said. “You fell for a nightmare.”

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