Rite of Redemption (Acceptance Book 3)

  RITE OF REDEMPTION

  by Sarah Negovetich

  Amazon Edition © 2016 Sarah Negovetich

  All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced in any form other than that in which it was purchased. and without the written permission of the author.

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  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  www.SarahNegovetich.com

  For all the bloggers who said yes to a no-name writer and made me feel like an author. Thank you for taking a chance.

  Other books by Sarah Negovetich

  Rite of Rejection (Acceptance, Book 1)

  Rite of Revelation (Acceptance, Book 2)

  One

  “Before you stands the future.”

  This is what the Cardinal promises every Candidate right before the Machine pretends to sort out the criminals. It’s what I told everyone here in Allmore when I convinced them that we have no choice but to fight back against the Cardinal. For all of us standing around the huge unlit pile of wood, tomorrow could hold anything. But not for Patrice.

  Eric eases her body onto the hard platform, taking care to fold her hands together and smooth back the little bit of black hair that had grown in since her cut in the PIT. Patrice could be sleeping, but I know better. I held her bleeding body in my lap and watched her take her last breath. I still see her dark eyes staring up into mine when I close my eyes to sleep at night. I hear her final words—love him—every time I look at Daniel. No, she is not sleeping. Patrice is dead, and there’ll be no more tomorrows for her.

  Eric’s face is free of tears, but dark purple bruises stand out under his blue eyes. Elizabeth stands with her arm around his shoulder, the closest I’ve seen them in ages. Sadly, she knows all too well how he’s feeling. The gut-wrenching pain of losing the person who holds your heart. Even thinking about losing Daniel that way turns my blood to ice water and gags the breath already struggling to flow through my lungs. Eric and Patrice had so little time together, not nearly long enough. But he loves her. Even now, as she lies on her funeral pyre, cold and gone. His eyes may be red from days of crying, but the love he has for Patrice shines through the layers of pain.

  Beside me, Daniel grabs my hand. Where Eric’s pain is on full display, Daniel is almost stoic as we prepare to say goodbye to his sister. He stands as straight as a pine tree, using his crutches only for balance. He should still be in bed. A Cardinal guard shot him in the leg only a few days ago when we stopped them from burning Arbor Glen to the ground. But we couldn’t wait any longer for Patrice’s release, and having it without Daniel was never an option.

  So he stands here next to me, gripping my hand so tightly it hurts and staring with a singular focus at the last member of his family. Instead of sadness, his whole body ripples with anger. His normally easy smile is missing, and a clenched jaw has taken its place. His legs tremble, not from the pain of standing, but from the need to move.

  I squeeze his hand back to let him know I’m here, but I don’t know if it makes a difference.

  “I will find a way, Rebecca.” Daniel’s words hiss from his barely moving mouth. “I will get to him and make him pay for this.”

  I squeeze his hand again but don’t respond. It’s the same conversation we’ve had every day for the past three days, since we got back from Arbor Glen with an entire town of refugees and his dead sister. Daniel is determined to hold the Cardinal responsible for Patrice’s death. Not that I don’t agree, but Daniel isn’t in any position to run off anywhere. And he’s not seeing straight enough right now to stop and plan before he runs into the lion’s den.

  Liam clears his throat and looks to Daniel to start the ceremony, but Daniel either doesn’t notice or refuses to notice. My heart aches for him, to know his pain. I’m trying to share it, but he’s got it locked up tight as if he wants it there to fuel the anger that boils under the surface of his every word.

  I step forward, not even sure what to say, but feeling responsible. “Patrice was not an easy person to love.”

  A small ripple of laughter rolls through the crowd, and the fog of tension hanging over the ceremony lifts the slightest bit. “It’s no secret we didn’t get off on the best foot. And it wouldn’t be a lie to say she hated me the first time we met. Not that I can blame her.” After all, it was my idea to hack the Acceptance ceremony, an act that sent her straight to the PIT. Guilty by association.

  “But we both changed, and I’m so glad to know that, before she died, we came to be friends. When Daniel and I took our vows, she became my sister, something I’ve never had. And she filled a new spot in my heart I didn’t even know was empty.

  “She was stubborn, hard-headed, and often times rude. But she was also kind and, like so many of us, afraid. Afraid of the future, afraid of being alone, afraid of never knowing her place. But Patrice died knowing exactly who she was, and I hope she knew how very much she was loved. She will be missed, but Patrice will live on in me.”

  I step back, but Daniel doesn’t move an inch. I want so much to wrap him up and hold him until all the tension he’s holding melts away, but he won’t let me and it’s killing me.

  Constance takes a tiny step forward, her hands unconsciously rubbing the tiny bump of her belly where her miracle baby is growing. “Patrice was quiet in her affection. She wasn’t one to give an unsolicited hug or say “I love you” for no reason at all. But she did love us. One day, about a week ago, she came to visit with me when I was having a particularly cruddy bout of nausea. She told me about a segment on one of the news stations she’d seen. They were talking about cures for morning sickness. She brought me a cup of ice cold water and some salty snacks because the newscaster said that would help. She also suggested we try to get some ginger on our next trade ride and then she could make a tea that would help.

  “When I tried to thank her, she brushed me off and pretended to be mad that there wasn’t anything more interesting to watch on her Noteboard than stories about pregnant women. But I know the truth. She watched that segment for me, and I’ll never forget her kindness. Patrice will live on in me.”

  I use my free hand to wipe tears from under my eyes, and around our circle several others do the same. I had no idea Patrice had done that, and it makes me ache for her loss even more.

  All around the circle, other members of Allmore speak up, sharing similar stories of Patrice doing them some small favor or going out of her way to help, but acting the whole time as if the entire world around her was an inconvenience. Even Carol, the woman who bakes the world’s best bread, and Liam, our village leader, have a story. Each new tale makes me want to hug her and slap her at the same time. There was so much more to Patrice than she ever let me see, and now I’ll never get the chance.

  Finally, the stories die down and a brief lull hangs over us. It’s not uncomfortable, just a moment for us all to breathe in the finality of our loss. I squeeze Daniel’s hand. Now is the time for him to speak, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. He doesn’t even squeeze back, just keeps staring at Patrice as if his will power alone could bring her back to life.

  Eric watches Daniel, and when it’s obvious he’s not going to speak, Eric breaks the silence.

  “Patrice was a challenge; that much is clear. But that’s exactly what I needed. She challenged me to stop playing the guilt-bearer. She pushed me to be more than the mistakes of my past. Patrice might be the first person to ever see me for the potential Eric I could be. She broke me and then put me back together, and I loved her.”

  Eric’s voice breaks, and I want to run to him, but I hold steady. My place i
s beside Daniel, my husband, because whether he’s willing to admit it or not, he needs me.

  “A huge part of me wants to stop trying. To jump back into my little hole and wallow in my loss. But I can’t, because if Patrice saw me do that, she’d kick my ass.”

  Almost everyone laughs at that. Everyone except Daniel.

  “I owe it to her, and every other person we’ve lost, to keep working to be a better person. And I have to keep pushing to have a better future so no one else has to live in fear of being the Cardinal’s next victim.”

  At the sound of the Cardinal’s name, Daniel’s head jerks up as if he’s been in a trance for the past half-hour. He nods at Eric, and the two of them stare at each other for a beat of a minute that feels like an eternity.

  Without losing eye contact with Eric, Daniel steps forward. “Patrice will live on in me.” His voice booms through the silence, and I jump at the suddenness of his words. He steps back, and all around us, the gathered crowd repeats the mantra back to him.

  “Patrice will live on in me.”

  Daniel turns away from Eric and returns his steady gaze to Patrice. Four men standing around the circle simultaneously lower their flaming torches and touch them to the tar-wrapped cubes that will set the flames burning hotter than any of Carol’s ovens in the bakery. The heat drives our circle back, but Daniel only takes a few steps, staying way too close to the blaze. The anger that held his eyes all night disappears, and the grief slips in, his eyes watering as the flames consume his sister.

  I tug his arm back until he gives in and hobbles back several feet on his crutches. There’s nothing left for him here, and I can’t imagine him joining in on the post-release celebration.

  “Come on.” I thread my arm around his elbow. “Let’s go home.”

  Looking out one more time at Patrice, the rest of the village is barely visible through the flames and choking smoke. The faces around the pyre blur in the building heat. I close my eyes and wish on every star in the sky this is the last time I have to stand in front of a colossal flame and watch another person I love disappear from my life. Because this image of the village on fire feels too much like looking into our future.

  Two

  Daniel hops up the stairs of our front porch without a single word. The same way he walked all the way back to our little house. The wedding gift that we haven’t really been able to use. We didn’t think our wedding night would be spent taking out a contingency of Cardinal guards and rescuing the village of Arbor Glen. Everything was already set up and move-in ready when we trudged back to Allmore, but Daniel has been staying at Doc’s office so he could keep an eye on his incision and keep out infection. This is our first night in our new home together, but it won’t be anything like what I imagined.

  Daniel stomps his crutches through the living room, past the kitchen, and straight into the bedroom. The whole house vibrates with every unnecessary pound of the wood posts banging on the floor. I make it into the bedroom just in time to catch him chucking the crutches against the wall across the room, nearly taking out a newly installed and hard to obtain window.

  I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting to ten. It’s a trick I used all the time to keep from saying something I’d regret to my mother. I’ve been using it more than ever these last three days.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t want to say anything at Patrice’s release ceremony.”

  Daniel slumps onto the bed. “Do you think anything I could say will bring my sister peace? Will she feel better about being murdered by the Cardinal? I’ll just say a few kind words about what an amazing person and sister she was, and then all this will be fine?”

  He takes off his shoes and throws them against the wall to fall in a tangle with his discarded crutches. “It’s all bullshit. All of it. How can any of us be at peace when her murderer is out there killing people every day? She can’t rest until he’s dead, and I’m going to be the one to put the bullet in his brain.”

  I’d give anything to go back in time and get back the husband I knew a week ago. The one who never said a word to anyone out of anger. He laughed with ease, even when the situation was dire. The Daniel who held my hand to show how much he loved me, not to keep his body from vibrating with the anger that’s taken up residence in his gut. I miss that Daniel, and right now he feels a million miles away. I sit on the edge of the bed and hesitate to reach out a hand to him.

  “Daniel—”

  “Don’t Daniel me. I’ve spent the last three days listening to everyone tell me I have to let go of my anger. Liam even tried to tell me that it gets easier and the pain won’t always feel this way. As if he knows. Cancer took Ana, not the Cardinal.”

  “Killing the Cardinal won’t bring Patrice back.”

  “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know that my sister, the only family member I had left, is dead and never coming back? I just watched her funeral pyre. I know she’s dead, and soon the Cardinal will be, too. But he’s not good enough for a pyre. I want to watch his body rot in the street. I want people to walk around him and wonder why city cleanup crews haven’t come to get rid of his bloated carcass lying in the street like a poisoned rat.”

  “And until then, you’re just going to sit around and be angry at everyone. Yell at me like I’m nothing.”

  Daniel freezes, his shoulders tense and wide eyes riveted to mine. He takes a steadying breath of his own, then reaches over and pulls me close until I’m nestled between his legs. “You’re not nothing, Rebecca. Don’t you see that you’re everything? I have to go after the Cardinal. I have to stop him because I can’t lose you, too.” He rests his head on top of mine, his stubbly chin hair scratching my forehead, and whispers his next words. “I wouldn’t survive.”

  I turn and face him, holding the side of his face until I have his full attention. “And what do you think will happen to me when you rush off to destroy the Cardinal and he takes you out with no more effort than swishing his finger in the air?”

  “I can’t just sit around and do nothing. You know the Cardinal is going to keep coming after you. We have to fight.”

  “And we will. With a plan. One that doesn’t involve anyone else dying. I just need you to be patient and not run off on your own.”

  “I can’t promise you that.” The moment of vulnerability is gone and hardness is back in his eyes. “He has to die.”

  Daniel stares at the wall past my head, and it’s as if I’m not in the room anymore. Just like so many times before this when I would plead with him to focus less on destroying the Cardinal and more on getting well. He’s determined to kill the Cardinal, and coming away with his own life isn’t even close to a priority.

  He swings his legs around me and hops over to the wall to grab his crutches.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have work to do.” Daniel stomps his crutches down the hall and into the kitchen.

  I follow him in, but he doesn’t notice. He’s already digging into a crate of supplies that Frank brought over this afternoon at Daniel’s request. It’ll still be a while before he has the energy to get back into their shared workshop, and Daniel said he has a project that can’t wait. In seconds, the table is covered in bits and pieces that I can’t identify.

  Leaning against the door frame, I take a steadying breath so he can’t hear how much I’m hurting to see him this way. “Goodnight.”

  Daniel doesn’t take his eyes of his work. “Goodnight.”

  Back in our room, I close the door and climb underneath the soft covers. In the silence, the joyful music from the post-release celebration drifts into the room. It’s a sharp contrast to the gloom that hangs over our home like a dark curtain.

  I wish I knew how to help him. The magic words that could help him let go of the anger that is eating him from the inside out. I close my eyes and try to picture his smile, the way it lit up his face the morning we got married just a few days ago. I don’t know if or when I’ll ever see it again. At th
is point, I can only hope that he’s still here when I wake up in the morning.

  Three

  With the sun barely more than a pink line on the horizon, I slide out of bed inch by silent inch until my bare feet hit the cold wood floor. I turn to see if my exit plan woke Daniel, but he’s still asleep after spending half the night muttering crazy plans for breaking into the Cardinal’s office building and strangling him with his bare hands. It wasn’t a restful night for either of us, but I have more work to do.

  The village is still asleep as I crunch down the main road through town. A light frost coats the ground. It’s nothing serious yet, and it will be melted into nothing more than a lingering dampness by the time the sun comes up in earnest. But it’s the first sign that winter is right around the corner. One more obstacle in our path to taking out the Cardinal.

  I peek through the tiny window of the door to the dining hall. It’s empty except for Liam sitting at the end of a lone table and staring thoughtfully into his bowl of oatmeal. I push the door open and his head pops up, though his eyes still have a far away look, a sure sign he has a million tasks on his plate today. I march down the hall and slide onto the bench across from him.

  “That’s for you.” He nods at a small plate in front of me. It’s nearly covered in a gigantic cinnamon roll, still hot enough to be piping steam into the cool air of the hall. “Carol dropped it off. She said you’d need it after last night.”

  I could kiss her. Like a grandmother, Carol has been dishing out baked goods and advice to me, almost since the day we found our way to Allmore. And somehow she knew her famous cinnamon rolls were the one guaranteed way to make certain I ate breakfast today. My stomach swirls at the thought of eating, but there’s no resisting the temptation of warm spices and gooey, sweet glaze. I pinch off a piece into my mouth and make a mental reminder to give Carol the biggest hug I can when I see her next.