Gravity Rises (S3)

EG: Part Two

Grace should've dressed more warmly than she did.

The snow flurries had only intensified as she'd trekked through the forest. The drab yellows and browns of the autumn forest were gradually being coated in the white of winter. Grace thought she'd be fine; she'd bundled up plenty. But the sharp wind knifed its way through her layers and left her wishing for a blazing fire in the manor hearth. She continued searching for Gideon, shivering in the cold. How her brother went galivanting around the forest so often, Grace would never understand. She preferred her comfort.

Grace stopped. No, wait. She knew why Gideon liked the forest. With what Gaston did to him so often. . .

She shuddered a little, and it wasn't entirely from the cold.

Of course Gideon would want to run away so often. Grace didn't know why Gideon didn't run away entirely and go live with the creatures of the forest. She'd tried to help him, she'd tried to stop it, but — well. . . she couldn't do much. She was afraid. She didn't get beaten, but she felt absolutely helpless. The town didn't dare question Gaston — Mother turned a blind eye to the abuse — the local cops were mostly Order members. Grace wanted to go to higher authority, like the state police, but she'd never learned to drive. Her access to the internet or phones was highly controlled by the network of Northwest servants, who were all in on it. And even if she did get help, the Order would just wipe the memories of those involved.

Before she'd outgrown the amulet, Grace was terrified that they'd force her to do that memory wiping. That she'd call in the law enforcement against Gaston, and they'd drag her to Order HQ to undo her efforts. What would she do then? Would she be brave enough to refuse?

But as time went on, she'd discovered something worse. She'd occasionally glimpsed people carrying away unconscious townspeople in the dank halls of the Order headquarters — even though she hadn't been there to wipe their memories.

Then one day, she had been summoned to the Order to wipe someone's memory, but circumstances had kept her. She could barely remember why she'd been late, but she remembered what had happened next. She'd stumbled out of the Northwest passage, rushed to the memory room — only to find a group of Order members holding a young man, already unconscious and clean of his memories.

The Order members had all jumped guiltily when they'd seen her, exchanging alarmed glances. Grace's hand went to her amulet. "What is the meaning of this?"

It took a minute before anyone answered her. "He was panicking," said Janice Corduroy. "We had to act quickly."

Grace looked around. Nobody met her eyes. "But how?" she demanded.

"Miss Northwest."

Grace turned. Blind Lincoln stood behind her, arms hidden within his robes, his face grave.

"Walk with me," he said.

She glanced back to the procession, which had already begun moving away. Then she followed the Order leader down the hall. "Lee," she said, desperately reaching for familiarity. She liked to think she could call Lincoln a friend. "Lee, what's going on? The Order doesn't have — another amulet holder." She looked up to him and whispered, "Do we?"

Lincoln shook his head. "No. I'm not sure why I was instructed to keep this a secret from your family, either. I suppose he wanted to keep you under his thumb as much as possible."

Grace knew exactly who he was. "Does he even have thumbs?" she asked, playing for humor. Whatever humor she could find in this deeply unsettling situation.

Her quip earned a chuckle from Lincoln, but it fell rather flat. "It certainly seems that way from this perspective, doesn't it?" he said.

Grace looked away. She and Lincoln both felt trapped; it was why they'd grown such a strong bond. The aging Order leader had reached out to her as a mentor and friend, even though he had no one to do the same for him. Grace liked to think she had helped him as much as he'd helped her, but she doubted that was actually the case. Still, he seemed happier when she was around.