#guiding Manon into the light even while she was facing death

[pergaminaa]

Empire of Storms thoughts:

When Asterin told Manon to “bring my body back to the cabin” that was when Manon just… woke up and finally realized what her grandmother is doing.

It started in Queen of Shadows, when Asterin told Manon about her hunter, witchling and what their grandmother did to her.

Manon knew of this evil and learned that her grandmother is capable of great evil, also that she has no qualms being cruel towards any of them.

While she was preparing to execute Asterin, as per her grandmother’s order, Manon felt crippled. I do believe at that point she was still conflicted: she knew about her grandmother, but she was still unable to break free from her. She was going to execute her Second, her best friend, her cousin, her sister— yet the whole thing was proving too difficult for her.

She was about to cry while she was sharpening her blade, she was reminiscing how she spent a hundred years with Asterin and she was looking forward to a hundred more. Sorrel spoke to her, but she couldn’t respond because she was going to cry if she opens her mouth.

But even at that point, she was still shackled by her grandmother.

When Asterin told her to bring her body back to the cabin, it was what snapped Manon.

She remembered Asterin’s story and what their grandmother had done to her. That moment of clarity told her that she is doing her grandmother’s bidding, not for the good of the clan, but for her own personal gratification.

That’s when Manon said no. She will not allow her grandmother to take Asterin from her. Because she will not stop there. And between the two, Manon chose her Thirteen. Asterin’s words were the catalyst that got Manon to see her grandmother as the monster that she is.

She realized that this is just her grandmother flexing her power over her. This is not about the witches or the clan. This is her grandmother using Asterin against her one more time, like she always did. The Matron always went for Asterin first whenever anything happens. It was a personal vendetta and she loved tormenting Manon by always making her the one who did this to Asterin. Because the Matron knows how important Asterin is is to Manon, and she reveled in showing her granddaughter how easy it is to take yet another dear person from her, this time, at her own hands.

Manon wanted to protect Asterin and the Thirteen, giving them the chance to run to safety while she handled her grandmother and bought them enough time to run.

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 5 - 6

“Last chapter was probably my favorite, and gave me hope that maybe everything won’t be so bad.” -a fool’s last words.

Aelin stared and stared at that piece of paper, at the names that had been signed long before tonight, the men who had decided against her without meeting her, the men who had changed her future, her kingdom, with just their signatures.

I feel like SJM is trying to make us feel sorry for Aelin, but.... no? She hasn’t proved herself worthy of being a queen at all! She flat out admits that these men have never met her - does she really expect these people to hand over the throne of their kingdom to someone they’ve never met?!?!?! WHAT IS gOING ON WHERE IS THE LOGIC

Aelin breathed, “Our doom gathers in the South of Adarlan—yet this is what you focus on?”

Umm yeah because the ruler of the kingdom is a very important job and one that is needed for war?? They need a strong leader to help guide them through the upcoming battles, Darrow is absolutely right to be concerned about this.

“The Bane,” Darrow spat, “is now ours to command. In the event that there is no fit ruler on the throne, the lords control the armies of Terrasen.”

You go Darrow! He’ll be the leader Terrasen needs and defend his kingdom while Aelin prances around demanding her crown be handed to her without her doing any work and threatening anyone who refuses to kiss her ass.

Something cold and oily clanged through [Aelin]. Marriage to a foreign king or prince or emperor. Would this be the cost? Not just in blood shed, but in dreams yielded? To be a princess eternal, but never a queen? To fight with not just magic, but the other power in her blood: royalty.

Hoo boy, the “I can’t marry for love but I have to marry for my kingdom” trope. I don’t mind this trope if it’s done well ( I guess I’m a sucker for that drama) but SJM is either gonna A. sweep it under the rug afterwards and never address it again, or B. milk the angst for all it’s worth and then come up with a last minute solution that doesn’t make Aelin have to make any decisions or compromises or work for her happy ending.

She had laughed once at Dorian—laughed and scolded him for admitting that the thought of marriage to anyone but his soul-bonded was abhorrent. She’d chided him for choosing love over the peace of his kingdom.

Karma is a bitch ain’t it

Aelin spoke into the dark, toward where Darrow was seated. “I suggest, Lord Darrow, that you become accustomed to this. For if we lose this war, darkness will reign forever.” There was a scratch and a hiss—then a match sputtered as it lit a candle on the table. Darrow’s wrinkled, hateful face flickered into view. “Men can make their own light, Heir of Brannon.”

Darrow literally takes no shit!! Why isn’t there fanart and posts dedicated to this bad ass old warrior instead of countless fans gushing over Aelin? Seriously, I’d ask for a Darrow backstory novel but SJM would fuck it up, no doubt.

But Aelin looked to Ren, his face tight. And over the roaring in her head, she said, “Whether or not you vote in my favor, there is a spot for you in this court. For what you helped Aedion and the captain do. For Nehemia.”

*chokes back on sobs* I miss when it was just Nehemia, Aelin, Dorian, and Chaol in the glass castle..... they really were simpler times.

Darrow expresses that Nehemia was a better princess than Aelin is (which is true) and references her death and Rowan fuckin’ threatens to kill him. So gg, you all are just proving Darrow’s point that none of you are fit for the responsibility of ruling/helping Aelin rule.

A messenger arrives and informs them that Rifthold will soon be under attack from the Ironteeth witches.

Aelin wondered if Manon Blackbeak would be leading the attack—if it’d be a blessing. The Wing Leader had saved them once before, but only as a payment for a life debt. She doubted the witch would feel obliged to throw them a bone anytime soon.

Ohhh is this foreshadowing that Manon is going to join Aelin’s side or am I reading into this too much? I’m worried that SJM is gonna reduce Manon to just another blind follower of Aelin hnghhh.....

Rowan’s hand brushed [Aelin’s]. “I will save him,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t ask this of you unless it was … Dorian is vital. Lose him, and we lose any support in Adarlan.” And one of the few magic-wielders who could stand against Morath.

Uhh and you’d lose one of your first friends you made after you were freed from the mines? The guy who you were once in love with? Seriously, she’s talking about Dorian as if he’s some weapon right now and not one of her best friends! I s2g as soon as Aelin met Rowan it was like Chaol and Dorian never existed in the first place and all that development she had with them got swept under the rug.

Since Darrow said that they needed allies, Aelin plots for them all to meet up in Skull’s Bay after Rowan rescues Dorian. Wait.... Skull’s Bay is from The Assassin’s Blade. But that means-

“I thought you knew Rolfe,” Aedion said. Aelin gave him a grim smile. “He and I parted on … bad terms, to say the least. But if Rolfe can be turned to our side…”

Rolfe!!! He was another interesting character from the first book (not a good guy, if I remember correctly, he owned slaves) who actually made Aelin work in order to beat him and gain victory. I’m excited to meet him again.

Alone with Rowan, Aelin said, “Darrow expects me to take this order lying down. But if we can rally a host in the South, we can push Erawan right onto the blades of the Bane.” “It still might not convince Darrow and the others—” “I’ll deal with that later,” she said, spraying water as she shook her head. “For now, I have no plans to lose this war because some old bastard has learned he likes playing king.”

Uhh fuck you?? For acting like Darrow is the bad guy here?? He cares about his kingdom and rather than let his grief over his deceased lover consume him, he fights hard to protect his people and makes sure the crown doesn’t go to anyone who will start a war over the stupidest shit. Fuck you Aelin, Darrow would be a much better ruler than you.

But if Rowan was caught, if Dorian was caught … “I can’t—I can’t let you go—” “You can,” he said with little room for argument. The voice of her prince commander. “And you will.” Rowan again traced her mouth. “When you find me again, we will have that night. I don’t care where, or who is around.”

That really is their only motivation at this point, huh? Aelin just wants this war to be over so she can bone her fae prince whenever she wants without any interruptions. I need a drink.

So Rowan leaves in hawk form to go rescue Dorian and Evangeline is going to stay with Murtaugh, since Aelin at least has the sense to not bring a child to a pirate paradise.

Aelin kissed the girl’s cheek and whispered into her ear, “Work your magic on these miserable old men while you’re at it.” She pulled away to wink at the girl. “Win me back my kingdom, Evangeline.”

I almost felt my heart melt at this cute interaction, but then I remembered that Aelin means Darrow and SJM wants the audience to hate him and that mood flew out the window. I’ll be the only Darrow stan on this website if I have to, damnit.

Aedion said to Ren, “Unless you want to swap one tyrant for another, I suggest you get the Bane and any others ready to push from the North.” Murtaugh answered for his grandson, “Darrow means well—” “Darrow,” Aedion interrupted, “is now a man of limited days.”

LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK AEDION!!!! Darrow rightfully denies Aelin the crown and you’re gonna fucking murder him? You need his alliance if you’re gonna win this war holy shit y’all are so fucking stupid!

Aelin said, “We don’t touch Darrow.” “What?” Aedion snapped. Aelin said, “I’d bet all my money that he’s already taken the steps to ensure that if he meets an untimely death, we never set foot in Orynth again.” Murtaugh gave her a grim, confirming nod. Aelin shrugged. “So we don’t touch him. We play his game—play by rules and laws and oaths.”

For once Aelin is finally using another method of negotiation other than killing people but stop framing Darrow as if he’s ~evil~ for not giving you your crown when you’ve done nothing to prove to any of the lords that you’re fit to rule! I am utterly baffled that SJM really thinks Darrow is in the wrong here.

So Murtaugh has been loyal to Aelin’s family, treated her with respect and kindness, and offered to look after Evangeline while they’re gone, so Aelin.... slices her palm and threatens him that if anything happens to Evangeline she will burn all of them. I’m not even joking.

Aelin clenched her bloodied palm into a fist, holding it in the air between them. “Because of that loyalty, you will understand what blood promises mean to me when I say if that girl comes to harm, physical or otherwise, I do not care what laws exist, what rules I will break.” Lysandra had now turned to them, her shifter senses detecting blood. “If Evangeline is hurt, you will burn. All of you.”

Seriously, can someone tell me if I’m going crazy?? AELIN THESE ARE PEOPLE WHO WANT TO BE YOUR ALLIES YOU CAN’T GODDAMN THREATEN ALL OF THEM!!!!! Murtaugh has not said one bad word to you and you’re threatening to burn him!!! WHAT THE FUCK AELIN THIS IS WHY YOU ARE NOT QUEEN YOU STUPID DKAHDFJAHFKDH

“Threatening your loyal court?” sneered a cold voice as Darrow halted a few feet away.

Oh thank god Darrow is here, a character who isn’t brain dead stupid. Seriously, number 1 Darrow stan right here.

Her heart strained, but Aelin said to Ren, that scar hidden by the shadows of his rain-drenched hood, “I wish we had time to speak. Time for me to explain.” “You’re good at walking away from this kingdom. I don’t see why now would be different.”

HOLY SHIT REN IS JOINING IN THE AELIN ROASTING!!! Ren and Darrow are the only good people in this entire goddamn kingdom.

Aelin said, “I promise you that no matter how far I go, no matter the cost, when you call for my aid, I will come. I promise you on my blood, on my family’s name, that I will not turn my back on Terrasen as you have turned your back on me. I promise you, Darrow, that when the day comes and you crawl for my help, I will put my kingdom before my pride and not kill you for this. I think the true punishment will be seeing me on the throne for the rest of your miserable life.”

>IMPLYING THAT DARROW WILL EVER NEED YOUR HELP YOU STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE WHO CAN’T EVEN GET THROUGH A SIMPLE MEETING WITHOUT ALMOST STABBING SOMEONE

I FUCKING HATE AELIN SO MUCH TO THINK I WAS ON THE FENCE BEFORE HOLY FUUUUCK

Ungh... I can do this. So they finally get their asses moving and Aelin sees the Little Folk have left her another present.

Brannon’s temple on the coast had been rendered carefully—a clever little contraption of twigs and rocks to form the pillars and altar … And on the sacred rock in its center, they’d created a white stag from raw sheep’s wool, his mighty antlers no more than curling thorns.

Obvious foreshadowing is obvious.

Finally chapter 6 holy shit. Chapter 4 gave me hope that the book was picking up but chapter 5 just shit all over my hopes and dreams.

Dorian Havilliard, King of Adarlan, hated the silence.

Dorian’s POV! Sadly since the books utterly forgot of his existence aside from torturing him emotionally after book 2, Dorian doesn’t get a lot of attention anymore. I liked him in the first three books, but given what happened to the other characters, let’s see how SJM butchers him..........

He lifted his hands before the view, his palms callused from the exercises and swordplay he’d made himself start learning once more.

A ruler who teaches himself how to fight in order to help protect his kingdom? Fuck yeah.

Dorian has some inner turmoil about being held captive and tortured and the revelation that his father had been possessed by a demon for years, and it’s.... good? It’s well written, Dorian’s problems are understandable and sympathetic, and he’s clearly taking precautions so it doesn’t happen again. Nicely done!

Dorian flexed his fingers, frost sparking in his palm. Raw magic—yet there was no one here to teach him. No one he dared ask.

I mean, the poor guy can’t even control his magic because all his friends who have magic are off pretending to be a good queen. *glares at Aelin*

He was halfway through the pillars of books and papers when he spied the horizon. When his city began screaming. Spreading into the distance, blotting out the sunset like a storm of bats, flew a legion of wyverns. Each bore armed witches, roaring their battle cries to the color-stained sky.

And here we go! I’m hoping for a good action scene, since the witches are so badass (even though I feel bad for Dorian and his people). We also switch to Manon’s POV.

With the height and distance, Manon fully beheld the carnage as the horizon at last revealed the sprawl of the capital city. The attack had begun without her. Iskra’s legion was still falling upon it, still spearing for the palace and the glass wall that crested over the city at its eastern edge.

This build up is really good! I’m excited to see Manon kick ass (even though again, the people she’s fighting are innocent).

Manon aimed Abraxos for the stone castle atop the hill, barely peeking above that shining glass wall—the wall she had been ordered to bring down— and hoped she had not been too late in one regard. And that she knew what the hell she was doing.

A cliffhanger to end the chapter. Although the wording leaves me to believe Manon isn’t actually going to do any fighting, but we’ll have to wait and see.

[dashedwithromance]

The Final Battle - TOG7

... yikes, sorry guys. 

Maeve can feel it.

She can feel the fluctuations in magic, the imbalance of dark to light, and the ancient Valg queen knows that it’s time to strike. The balance of magic had been thrown off by the death of Mala’s heir, the bright light extinguished by the might of the Dark Queen.

Dark greatly overpowers light; light is powerless against Maeve, and that she knows. Light has the Lock, yes, but first they must capture either Maeve or Erawan to use it.

And as much as Maeve hated the youngest Valg King, she knew he wasn’t stupid enough to let any of Terrasen’s court near his neck.

So without Aelin, the final battle goes downhill very quickly.

---------

Lysandra is the first to fall, but not without taking a large portion of Valg soldiers with her. Her husband – Aedion – screams as she falls, but carries on fighting, eyes stinging as he catches sight of the ghost leopard’s corpse, ice-white fur covered in blood and gore, green eyes closed in death.

Ren Allsbrook falls next, his sisters guiding in his last moment as he dies fighting, the way he’d always planned, the honourable death.

Elide fights with the Thirteen, her witch blood running true, iron teeth and nails tearing through skin and bone, her mother’s and Aelin’s name clear in her mind, Lorcan’s magic acting as a brace for her ankle.

And it’s with her loved ones’ names as a prayer on her lips that she dies, three swords piercing her heart.

Lorcan screams louder than he’s ever screamed before, his magic ripping and slashing through Valg soldiers like paper, but they still advance, each step the dark soldiers take like a mockery of Elide’s death.

It’s Dorian who dies next, fighting beside Manon and the Thirteen, eyes locked with his wife’s as his ice flickers and his light goes out.

Rowan’s eyes burn at the loss of his friends, the faces of his fallen court flashing every time he closes his eyes.

Fenrys and Conall die at the same time, arrows raining down on the black and gold wolves, twins until the very end. Lorcan is felled a group of ilken wielding axes, and his last thought is of when Elide took down that ilken with his axe, looking like Annith herself.

Rowan doesn’t allow himself to mourn, not yet, he needs to get to Maeve or Erawan, or his fireheart would’ve died for nothing, and Rowan would’ve rather been sentenced to a thousand bloody deaths than that to become reality.

The rest of Terrasen and Adarlan’s surviving court battle on, Yrene and Chaol fighting side by side, Chaol guarding his wife as she worked on healing the Valg out of the soldiers. They died with their hands clasped together, and are guided by Silba into the world beyond.

Rowan and Aedion sneak towards Maeve haven under the mountain, the mountain where Erawan was originally trapped all those years ago, a purposeful scorn towards her husband’s brother. The remaining court of Terrasen is backed by Gavriel and the remaining Thirteen, their numbers dwindled down to ten, Asterin, Sorrel and Vesta taking the fall for Manon.

They are so close, almost ridiculously close when the lion is felled, his cry silenced.

The Lock has already been forged in the blood and magic of the firebringer, so all Rowan has to do is get the Lock, formerly the Eye of Elena, around Maeve’s neck, and she, Erawan, and the rest of their dark forces with be sucked and trapped back in their own world.

Rowan needs a distraction, someone to distract Maeve while Rowan does his work, and Aedion gladly volunteers, for his brother, his wife, and court.

Rowan fights back a scream as Maeve’s deathly power wraps around Aedion’s neck and the light in his Ashryver eyes die, so similar to the light that light his precious fireheart’s.

In Maeve’s satisfaction, her joy that came from the limp body she’d seconds ago thrown to floor, she did not notice her former bloodsworn sneaking behind her, slipping the Lock over her neck, successfully sucking her back into her world, into the distrustful arms of her husband.

---------

The seconds are the Valg forces are dead silent, not even the pine-and-snow smelling wind of Terrasen daring to break it. Then a mournful cry fills the air, echoed by the witch queen and her family.

All that is left of that once mighty court is their broken king, and the destroyed Crochan and Ironteeth queen.

A year later, on the anniversary of that fateful, final battle, the King of Terrasen, and the Queen of Witches stand side by side on the battlefield, tears in their age-old eyes as they remembered the lives of their fallen friends.

For Terrasen, they say as they place stones upon the last places their friends lived, memories flashing through both their minds.

For Witchkind.

Their vision becomes muddled by tears, their arms burning from the weight of the grave rocks, and minds aching from the weight of their memories.

On and on they go, until they reach the mountainside where the Valg forces were at last vanquished.

For Aelin, they say together. 

And they walk out, two immortals who had lost their family, the people who had made their lives worth living, whispering one last phrase.

For a better world.

[jodieelliswritings-blog]

Killer Code

Piece for NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge 2017

Genre: Spy, Subject: Counseling, Character: A hostage

Word Count: 2453

A special agent is faced with an old enemy seeking revenge; the father of a young girl he had killed accidentally in a siege gone wrong. With only his student, an ex-vigilante hacker, by his side, he must try to save the lives of his wife and infant son. 

Three years had passed since the death of Leo Bianchi’s daughter. Charlize was only fourteen, still clad in her school uniform when she was shot in the head during a firefight between Bianchi’s men and the government special agents who had been targeting the crime family for years. I knew the anniversary was coming up because I still had nightmares about that day and they intensified the closer it got. I still feel my finger pulling the trigger. I still see the life fading from Charlize's blue eyes. Almost every night I hear Bianchi’s tormented cries as he realized his little girl was dead.

When I have those nightmares, I have to go into my son’s room and cradle him for a little while. My wife, Manon, calls him “Houdini” because he always finds a way to escape from his confines. By hook or by crook he will get around every baby safe gate and playpen to find us.  Even though he was growing up and becoming a little character, I still cradle him as though he was a tiny newborn, and as I do, I understand the sound Leo Bianchi made.

After the accident, I took a leave of absence. I didn’t want it, I wanted to bury my head in the sand, but I’m glad I was forced to take it. The lawyers managed to worm me out of any criminal charge; Bianchi’s men had killed many more of our's, but I was still moved to a newer clandestine unit that my bosses were developing, training special agents to work like hackers and take down targets remotely. I ended up with a more supervisory role, giving orders rather than getting into the dirty work. I wasn’t trusted out on the field, yet, so I stayed behind. I still kept my service pistol with me at all times, because of the paranoia that someone may one day make me pay for what I had done to Charlize.

It was getting easier and easier to monitor targets these days. With better gadgets more accessible and affordable, the public put anything and everything online. They buy things with their electronic wallets, they tweet their locations for lunch, they send their most private photographs to their lovers. And when everything is online, everything is easier for the wrong hands to get a hold of.

Chosposi Austin used to be those wrong hands. She was a millennial who, somehow, managed to hack into the most secure network in the world. Cho faced an ultimatum; use her skills for the good of the government, or face a prison sentence.

Cho was one of my targets, the best I had ever seen. I still don’t know exactly how she managed to break down every single firewall we had and gather the most closed off documents; documents even the President couldn’t get his hands on. She had no qualms about using the sensitive information against anyone and everyone. She was the perfect candidate for the new, highly skilled technicians we needed. Vigilante hackers were always going to be better than us. Where we had the connections and technology to break down barriers, they had the guts and brawn to do it on so much less.

It wasn’t just the fact that she was highly intelligent that caught my attention, and she was one of the most gifted people out there. Cho flew through the special agents testing like we were asking her “What color is the green ball?” And yet she wasn’t this reclusive, nerdy girl with little social skills. She was a vibrant extrovert who went shopping at the mall with her friends and drank beers at bars on a Saturday night. She lived on a reservation with her family, working at a clothing store four days a week and tending the horses the other days. She was a normal girl, with a normal life to everyone on the outside. That was what caught my attention, her ability to appear just like everyone else. Hiding her true identity like a millennial Clark Kent. She fascinated me, captivated me.

Maybe suggesting that she would make a valuable asset to our team was entirely for selfish reasons. I saw potential to make her one of the good guys and I wanted to be the one to steer her in the right direction. Teach her how to use everything that she had taught herself for the greater good instead of filling this void that she had somewhere inside of her. Maybe I was using her to fill the void I had inside of me. Coaching her and guiding her towards this greatness that I took away from myself when I killed Charlize.

When I first started working with Cho, I thought it was going to be a breeze. Intelligent and fast-thinking, I thought she was going to grab the bull by the horns and rise to the top of the hierarchy faster than anyone had before. But what I found was that she had issues. There was no obvious reason for it, but she thrived on being powerful. The power she held when she had the worst of your past organized neatly in a laptop, ready to make you do whatever she wanted you to because, if she chose, she could ruin your life.

She found out about Charlize pretty quickly. Obviously, the first person she planned on manipulating was her mentor. Cho was met with something she hadn’t before, though. I was stone-faced, unmoved by her exploitation. No matter how hard she tried, her manipulation techniques didn’t work on me. She couldn’t find anything else about me online, so all she had to go on was that one legal document. That’s when I finally broke through and she started to listen. That was the moment she started to learn and understand that this opportunity she had was going to help her channel that itching feeling of powerlessness into something productive. Something good. That Cho could fill the void she had by doing to right thing. By being the hero instead of the villain.

Cho was desperate to finally get out on the field and crack down on a target of her own. She wanted the action that I had experienced and told her stories about, she wanted to be a real special agent. I tried to explain to her that the person sat in front of the computer was composed and steady, five steps ahead at all times with every situation planned for in advance. When the screens were taken away, she was reckless and impulsive, her immaturity and superfluous thrill-seeking making her an easy prey. Cho needed to learn how to keep the composure she had in front of the screen when face to face with her target.

We worked together solidly for a year and a half. It wasn’t just me teaching Cho how to become a special agent, either. She taught me so much about technological warfare. Even though I’d been in the department for more than a year, there were things hackers could do that I couldn’t even fathom until she showed me. How easy she found it to hack a nuclear power plant, to cut the power or to combust a reactor. Cho told me she even knew how to hack a pacemaker, but she never tried it out.

She also helped me deal with what I had done to Charlize. Cho was the only one the only one I told my side of the story to, warts and all. Although I was resistant on showing my emotions, due to the agent training and my annoying stubbornness, Cho could see straight through it. She saw human emotion like a hard drive; just needing to be studied before rewiring it.

On the night of the anniversary, Cho asked me to go for a drink with her after work. I politely declined, partially because I don’t drink, but mostly because I didn’t know what her intentions were for the drink. Drink away the memories? Drink until I forget my wife? I instead invited Cho over to my house for dinner. I warned her that dinner would be a Thai takeout and not a fancy, home cooked meal, but she accepted anyway.

Arriving at my home, we found the door barged open. Where other people may have gone into a blind rage, storming the house, the years and years of training had me remaining calm, even if the hostages or victims were my wife and infant son. When Cho turned to me and parted her lips to say something, I swiftly placed my fingers over them and motioned for her to keep quiet. I had a light compact revolver hidden in my coat pocket in the armoire in the hallway, I took it out and gave it to Cho. I had considered telling her to hide, but I knew she wouldn’t. It was easier to just give her orders I knew she wouldn’t disobey.

The house was dark, whoever broke into my home did so while it was still light outside. Manon was terrible for leaving every light on in the house. I swept the entire ground floor; nothing was out of place, not even a picture frame out of line. I motioned for Cho to follow me outside. There was a staircase that led up to the balcony of the master bedroom. Soft orange light glowed against the white exterior wall from the french windows.

As Cho and I crept up the stairs, she grabbed my arm, signaling for me to listen. There were three voices, from what I could gather, whispering in Italian. Cho heard it too. She mouthed “Bianchi” at me, and I felt the color drain from my cheeks. She shook her head as I reached for my pistol, her eyes telling me more than words could. She wasn’t guessing, she knew it was Bianchi. I didn’t want to believe what my gut was telling me, but she knew it was him.

Our heads both snapped towards the top of the stairs when the sound of the door caught our attention. Leo Bianchi stood proudly before us, fresh from high-security prison, feet wide apart and arms crossed. He asked us to join him in the bedroom, Chosposi and I. When I stepped through the balcony door, I saw my wife kneeling on the floor, cradling our infant son. She whimpered, hyperventilating from the panic, her lips turning a soft purple.

“My old friend,” Bianchi said, his baritone voice bounced off the walls in a thick, Italian accent, “I was informed that you took your wife’s name when you married her. I feel it must be some kind of, what is the English word? Redenizone, redemption. Stripping yourself of, well, yourself. Bousignac is much more exotic, though,”

Bianchi took strong strides over to my wife, kneeling down before her and gently wiping away her tears. He moved his hand to stroke the black hair on my son’s head, so softly and delicately, the well practiced touch of a father. He was taunting me, showing me he had complete control and ability to do harm and choosing not to. “Raphael is a very stoic name you chose, Manon, mia cara. Names are very important. My wife chose Charlize, but I never call her that. Patatina, little potato, that’s what I call her. A silly name, but traditional,”   

His gentleness mocked me while his goons were stood with assault rifles aimed at my wife and precious child. He was giving me time to take it all in. Giving me time to feel wretched and sick before he took it all away. Cho was breathing heavily next to me, the revolver I had given her lay on her thigh, no sign she planned on shooting.

Bianchi stood up from his crouch, turning to face Cho and me again. “Chosposi,” he said, “I told you to keep him away for a little longer. Ma non importa. You’ve done well, mia cara. I understand this must have been very difficult, but you were a good teacher to my boys, they have been thriving with their online business. And, again, grazie, for getting my sentence reduced,” Cho had betrayed me, I thought I was training a special agent, and she was training as a double agent. "A very clever girl you have here, Friars- oh, excuse me, Bousignac. She is a credit to you, she can take on the world with just a computer,"

He was taunting me again, throwing it in my face that my student was my enemy. I could no longer keep the stone-faced composure I was taught to keep, that I taught Cho to keep. Before I could lift my pistol an inch, I heard a clamor of gunshots.

There is a myth that when you’re shot, you fall to your knees, but you don’t. I felt the burning pain move up my torso before I looked down at my abdomen, my shirt staining with the blood that oozed from the gaping wound. My vision had begun to blur, but still, I looked to Manon and my son. She was laying on the ground, a bullet wound in the exact spot I shot Charlize. Bianchi’s goons lay dead on the floor too. I looked around feverously, confused about what had just happened, my breath catching as I clung to my stomach.

Bianchi stood with his hands up, the fear in his eyes as he blathered in Italian. Cho came into my field of vision as I finally fell to the floor. She was aiming the gun right at him. She told him that she deserved a lot more credit than he had given her, that the websites his men were running were now easily tracked and that his whole organization was about to fall. That she was going to laugh as she watched it all happen. Then, she put a bullet into his skull.

Cho came to me, once Bianchi was dead. She asked for my forgiveness, but they were going to hurt her family if she didn’t do as they asked. That without me she never would have been able to double cross them like she did.  I could barely speak, I could only manage a few words. “You’re amazing,” I told her.

The only thing that kept me from slipping into the embrace of death was the sound of my son’s cries. I hoped he was crying because of all the noise and not because he knew his mother lay dead beside him. He was all I had left.

No, that wasn’t true. I had Cho, too. My redemption didn’t feel so far away, anymore.