Gameboard of the Gods

Page 73

“Ilias was older than me,” he began. “Almost ten years. Our parents weren’t very fertile, and it took them a long time to have me. We didn’t grow up playing together with the age difference, but he always looked out for me and helped teach me things. He was great. Outgoing, good-looking. Everyone loved him.” Darius’s face fell for a moment, and then he rushed forward. “Last year, this guy kept showing up to see Ilias and our parents. I don’t know who he was or what he said, but everyone had a different reaction. Ilias always treated him like a joke. He was like that. Thought everything was funny. He talked about the guy like he was crazy. But our parents…they were different. They were upset every time he visited. Not upset—scared. After a while, they were just always on edge. You could see it all over them. And one day…my mom just cracked. She committed suicide. Cut her wrist in the bathtub.”
Tessa flinched. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.” Conversation faded after that.
The facility that Darius’s father lived at tried very hard to pretend to be something else. Its façade was nearly as grand as the Koskinen house, though better maintained, and even its name sounded more like what you’d find with a country manor: Rose Grove. A clock in the lobby said it was nearly eleven, making Tessa worry about whether his father was still up.
“He doesn’t sleep much,” Darius explained. He led her upstairs to a room on the third floor. A sign outside read OLAF SANDBERG.
Olaf had the look of someone who’d aged before his time. He sat at a table in his room, talking to himself as he slid around puzzle pieces on a screen. “Red line matches red…start with the corner, then find the others…can’t match blue with yellow….”
Darius took a chair on the opposite side of the table. “Dad,” he said gently. “I have someone who wants to talk to you.”
“That’s nice. Very nice.” Olaf’s eyes never left the screen.
“She wants to talk about Mom and Ilias.”
Olaf’s hands faltered on the screen, and pain crossed his face. “Over and done, over and done.”
On impulse, Tessa set up her camera on a nearby table. It wasn’t ideal, but she thought this might be worth recording for Justin. She then sat in an empty chair between the two men, more than a little unnerved by Olaf’s disposition. She was no interrogator, nor did she even really know why she was here. She let Darius take the lead and witnessed a remarkable change in him. The frantic desperation was gone, replaced by a calmness and heartbreaking affection for his father.
“Dad, she wants to know about the goddess you’re always telling me about. The one you made the deal with.”
“Over and done,” repeated Olaf, his voice shaking.
“Did she kill Mom?”
“No.” The old man’s head shot up, and he doled out glares to each of them. “No one took her. She gave herself up. Do you understand? No one took her. She was strong.”
Tessa wasn’t sure about that if she’d killed herself. Darius’s resigned expression said he’d heard all of this many times and was simply trying to draw out his dad’s story for Tessa’s benefit.
“She gave herself up for Ilias,” said Darius, seeking confirmation.
“She wanted a life. It should’ve been enough.”
Tessa hadn’t wanted to get involved, but again, her mind was trying to understand. “Your wife wanted a life?”
“No! Of course not.” Olaf paused to slide some more puzzle pieces around. “She did. The dark one.”
“The goddess?” asked Tessa.
“She wanted a life. That man said it had to be Ilias’s, that that was her payment. But why should it matter?” He looked back up again, desperation in his eyes. “Why should it matter? Isn’t any life enough? We repaid her.”
Tessa felt as though she too were sliding pieces of a puzzle around, trying to make sense of this scattered information. “What did you repay her for?”
“For Ilias.”
“Because she gave him to you,” said Darius, prompting him.
Olaf dropped his hand and spread it flat on the screen. “But he was never ours. They got a fortune. They got that poor plebeian boy’s life to make Ilias. But it wasn’t enough. They wanted Ilias to serve, but he wouldn’t, so they took him back.” He took a deep breath. “I should’ve joined Siiri. Maybe we owed another life. One for the plebeian boy, one for Ilias. If we’d both given ourselves to her, she might have let Ilias go free.”
There was more here than Tessa could understand. Suddenly, a memory tickled her brain: Justin, brainstorming with her in his study. A bunch of plebeians die the same year some perfect patricians are conceived. Is that a coincidence?
“What was Ilias’s score?” she asked.
“He was a nine,” said Darius.
“Cost a fortune,” lamented Olaf. “And it was so much more than money. Much more. They wanted him to serve her.”
Tessa tried to think like a servitor. “You mean to join her cult?”
“Ilias laughed that man away. Should he have? I don’t know.” Olaf stared off into space. “Maybe he took the high road. She didn’t deserve him. She’s evil and twisted. We said we’d let them teach him, but we didn’t. We shouldn’t have promised him to her, but we didn’t know what would happen. We didn’t realize what would happen to that boy.”
The nouns were hard to follow. “The plebeian boy?” Tessa asked, trying to clarify.
“He was innocent, but we didn’t care. What was a plebeian to us? But now I see the blood on my hands.” He turned his hands over and studied them. “We both did. But Siiri set herself free. It just wasn’t enough to save Ilias.”
Tessa began stringing together his narrative, patching it with all the things she’d heard Justin and Mae tossing around. “So…this goddess and her people…you made a deal to conceive Ilias through illicit genetic manipulation—”
“No. Magical manipulation,” said Olaf. “She needs no lab.”
“Um, okay. So, then they took money for it and a plebeian sacrifice….” Tessa paused at that, overcome by how awful it was. “And they also wanted you to raise him in her service. But you didn’t, so they came back and…took him.”
Tessa felt sympathetic enough toward the old man and his son that she couldn’t say the word “kill.” She also decided not to say anything more about Siiri Sandberg. Somehow, Siiri had known this cult was after Ilias and had killed herself in the hopes that she could pay the price for her son. Apparently, this goddess’s followers had required premium genes.
“What was her name?” asked Tessa. “This goddess?”
“Death and darkness and war,” murmured Olaf.
Darius shook his head. “I’ve never heard him say a name in all the times he’s told the story. He either doesn’t know or won’t say.”
“What about the man who kept visiting?” asked Tessa. “Was he the one saying they’d take Ilias back?”
Olaf’s eyes grew moist. “He warned us. He tried to persuade Ilias to join them when he was older, but he wouldn’t. He was a good boy.”
“Did the guy who threatened Ilias have a name? Do you know anything about him?”
Darius answered when his father wouldn’t. “No name, but he was one of us. Blond. Not much Cain.” He frowned. “No, there wasn’t any Cain. He was like Ilias.”
When it became obvious Olaf would say no more, Darius made motions to leave. He gently helped his father get into bed, and the old man fell asleep almost instantly.
“Can you help us?” Darius asked once he and Tessa were outside again. “Can you find these people?”
“I told you…I’m not part of this.” She put her camera back in its bag. “But I’ll tell the people I’m with that—”
Her ego rang with a call, and she saw Mae’s name appear. Tessa answered.
“Is everything okay?” asked Mae immediately, her voice hard and tense.
“Um, yeah,” said Tessa. “They’re just weird. Where are you guys?”
“I’m at the rooftop bar in our hotel.” There was a long pause. “I don’t know where Justin is.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you there. We have to…talk.”
Tessa disconnected and turned to Darius. “I’m going to see one of my friends right now, but it’s my other one who’ll really be able to do something.” If there was anything to be done. For all Tessa knew, she’d just listened to the ramblings of a madman.
Darius nodded eagerly and surprised her by clasping her hands between his. “Will you call me when you find out? Please? I have to get justice for Ilias.”
“Sure,” she said. They synched their egos to trade contact information, and she wondered if she could expect hourly calls.
After an outpouring of thanks, Darius went his own way, and Tessa returned to the hotel. It was after midnight, and she was exhausted, but she still found her way up to the rooftop bar. The place was busy with late-night socializing, and the terrace had a nice view of the park. From the way people were starting to disperse over there, the band must have been wrapping up. She found Mae sitting alone, gazing off into the distance. There was a rare expression on her face, troubled and forlorn, though it immediately vanished when she noticed Tessa.
“Hey.” Tessa sat down opposite her.
“Hey.” Mae had an untouched mojito in front of her. “What’s going on that’s weird?”
“It may be nothing…but I just got accosted by a guy who thinks he has information about that murder you guys are here for.”
Mae straightened up. “Accosted?”
“I’m okay,” said Tessa swiftly. “And it was more of a request, I guess. A very emphatic one. But I had my camera and—ahh!”