Fate Breakers

Chapter 31

Basil

CC flips through his notebook, his unfinished bread roll hanging from his mouth. It isn't until he finds the page he's looking for and hands me the book that he actually takes a bite out of the roll. What I find is only half shocking. A detailed drawing of a weapon with paragraphs of notes? Very typical for CC. What makes me sick is the specifics of it.

"It's called a beretta," CC explains for the group, speaking low. "That's the kind Human militaries use. That specific model is known for its durability and accuracy. They go for a lot over in the Human realm, but I know our currency is a little different from theirs."

"But how did he get it," Hector asks, still unable to process the sight of the weapon.

"Weapons are only a sliver of what gets passed between the realms," Erix says leaning back against a rock. "Folks on both sides trade anything they think they can put a price on. I've heard of tradesmen who breed their wives to death so they can use their children for parts."

"The King of Sparta does that." There's a ripple of silence as we all turn to Darcelle. He just stares down at the apple in his hand. "King Menander of Sparta took the throne at sixteen. In the decades since, he's had eleven wives, countless mistresses, and well over fifty children. There are only five Princes of Sparta."

Liam cocks his head. "I thought there were six?"

"The youngest is gone," Darcelle answers him. "Dead or just... somewhere. Clearly, Menander doesn't care enough to find him."

Hector slowly shakes his head. "I feel like that still doesn't answer my question. I mean, I guess hypothetically we could get anything from the realm next door, but that still doesn't explain how he managed to get the gun and keep it here."

Hector's right, and I don't really want to wait around until I happen upon the answers. I set what remains of my lunch in my bag, standing up and crossing back over to the cart. Wilfred is polishing his gun out in the open, and I catch the glint of his gold capped canine as he cracks a smirk. "Can't stay away from me, can ya, Guzman?"

"Don't flatter yourself. You've got nothing to offer that you haven't already shown off to someone else." My eyes flick to the gun, the barrel dangerously angled in my direction. "Where'd you get that?"

"Ah, Seasoning's finally gotten a little spicy, eh?"

"Hey, fuck you." Wilfred's eyes snap to me. I hold his stare. "You might've given me the nickname, but you've lost the right to use it. This isn't fucking funny, Wil. That thing is dangerous."

Wilfred shoves the gun back into its concealed holster, stepping up to me, his eyes a lighter shade of blue in the sun. "And?" He jerks his head over to the others. "Callasas' got one, and I don't see you riding his dick."

"Because Callasas' gun is legal." I step right back up to him. Wil backs away first. "He can list the names of all ten people in this realm who are legally able to have one of those things. Curious, I don't remember hearing your name in it."

His body sways in the way it does when he's been beat, verbal blows taking physical effect. Wilfred Goughe has never been a good liar. Lying is what earned him a spot on my med table, and in my bed. Lying damned us both, but it saved me. He might've gotten a promotion, but I got freedom. He's been stuck with Baxter, my fate is to be decided, but anywhere's better than with a drunken mess who has a preference for any and all things pure.

"Maybe I bought it cause I had to," Wil says through gritted teeth. "Or maybe, I bought it because I wanted it."

"Is working for the Balor Sea Brigade not enough for you? You have to fuck over your entire unit, and all of us to get the high?" Again, he grits his teeth. Wilfred's a chronic oversharer. He can't seem to keep his mouth shut. I yank his cloak back into proper position, concealing the gun. "You wanna risk death, go take The Plunge. Don't drag all of us with you."