Chapter 100
ane Foresti (1)
The moment the words suspended animation left Megan's mouth, Blow's breath caught hard in his throat. Yesterday the potion shop, and today the restaurant—both openings had succeeded so thoroughly that the plunge from that height hit him like a wave he had no way to ride.
"Jane. What in the world is she talking about?"
"......"
"You're not going to answer me?"
He shouted, and still Jane kept her mouth shut, her eyes fixed on the floor. The standoff held. Megan, unable to endure the tightness of it, swallowed a sigh and spoke.
"Young master, if I may report what I heard..."
"Megan."
The one sitting there like a rain-soaked cat was none other than Jane. Seeing her like that, Blow was in no state to take in anyone else's voice. Megan caught the emotion churning in his eyes and closed her mouth.
A silence as heavy as death stretched on. At last his gaze, gone cold, turned to Linne.
"Linne. Is it true?"
"Y-yes."
"You actually confirmed it?"
"Th-the herbs, and wh-what was wr-written on the n-notes..."
Blow buried his face in both hands. Linne worked her lips as if the fault were hers and lowered her eyes.
"...Everyone out. Except Jane."
"Young master."
"Out."
His breathing had gone rough enough for every ear in the room to hear it. Linne, who had been hesitating, rose and went to stand at Megan's side.
"Melo. Hans."
Melo, who had only just made it out the door, turned back, came up to him, and quietly caught a fold of his clothes.
"Y-young master... Jane unni, she's really..."
"I know. Don't worry. Just go."
Only then did the rest of them move, their steps heavy. Melo kept slowing, so Megan took her by the arm and led her the rest of the way, half dragging her along.
The footsteps climbing toward the lodgings faded, until Hills was left with nothing but the laughter of drunks outside and the cry of some bird no one could name. Blow spoke again to Jane, whose head hung low.
"Explain."
She hesitated a long while even then. A thin sigh escaped her, and at last she spoke.
"...I was trying to brew a potion that induces suspended animation."
"Why?"
"Because I heard that you... have to enter that state, young master."
"When did you hear that? Which son of a bitch told you?"
"I overheard it... In the garden... at Roten..."
Blow remembered exactly how that day had gone. He flinched.
"You were inside then, weren't you?"
"Hervena's face looked so awful that day, I followed you out in secret."
"And?"
"I started looking for something I could do, and..."
She barely got the words out. Her voice sounded ready to gutter out at any moment, and only then did Blow understand the exhaustion he had seen in her these past few days.
"So that's why you've been so tired?"
"Nights were the only time I had..."
"Did I tell you to do that? Did I order you to?"
"....No."
Watching how hard it was for her to answer, Blow fought to force his anger down. Then the same doubt that had risen in Linne rose in him.
"...Does a suspended-animation potion even exist?"
"No."
"Then you're making one?"
"Yes."
"The final trial. Don't tell me you were going to—"
"......"
Softhearted Jane was always like this. It was because she was like this that he had never told her, and that he had ordered Hervena to keep it from her as well. He had already put her through so much. He had wanted her, at the very least, to stop hurting on his account. And yet she had overheard them. She had made a potion meant to force a suspended animation, staying awake night after night to do it.
"What are you trying to do? Who told you to pull a stunt like that, running yourself into the ground?"
"......"
"The herbs? Where did you even get them? Who brought them to you?!"
"......"
Jane gave him nothing. She only stared at the floor. Stifled past bearing, Blow shot to his feet and shouted.
"You think that's what I want from you? Say it."
At those words, Jane's eyes lifted to him. She scrubbed hard at them, then spoke in a low voice.
"You didn't tell me either, young master..."
"What?"
"I asked. Again and again. Whether something was wrong... I even said I would go with you to the professor's laboratory......"
"....."
"You take me along every time it's the market, and then, when it's something like that, you leave me behind..."
Anger had entered Jane's voice. Blow could not understand it, and his brow drew tight.
"And what does that have to do with any of this?"
"I was anxious too! More anxious than anyone. More than anyone!"
"......"
"No one will tell me a single thing, and you stay right beside me every day and pretend you don't know!"
"Are you angry at me right now? After you went and tried to do something this insane?"
He had forced the anger down, and it showed in his voice. Jane looked at him, then let out a long sigh.
"Yes. I'm angry. Honestly, even now, I feel wronged more than I feel sorry. That's all."
"Jane, you..."
"You hid it from me, didn't you? So I hid it too."
Blow bit down hard and slammed his fist against the desk.
"What difference does it make if you know?!"
Jane's eyes went wide. Her shoulders sank, and the tears she had been holding back with all her strength spilled, helpless, down her cheeks.
"That's cruel."
"......"
"It's cruel. It really is... so cruel of you..."
Blow was still on his feet. He started toward her, but she shoved at his chest so he could not come any closer.
"Why are you so selfish? If I was going to find out someday anyway—and if that someday only came after something had already gone wrong with you—what did you expect me to do?"
"......"
"Melo's a child, so fine. What about Megan? What about Hans? Every one of them looks only to you. And I'm supposed to know nothing, and then just accept it when it happens? Is that it?"
"I didn't tell you because if you knew, you'd do nothing but worry. Why do you have to take it in the worst way?"
"Linne and Megan might not understand, but shouldn't you, of all people? Do you have any idea how much I've envied Hervena? All this time."
"......"
She let out a hollow laugh, tapped a hand against her own chest, and muttered.
"I... I wish I'd been a genius too."
"How did this turn into that?"
"If I were even close to what Hervena is... at least you never would have stood there and asked me what difference it would make..."
"......"
"Must be nice. I envy her... Hervena."
"Why are the two of you like this... with each other...?"
Some old conversation flickered through his mind, and he let out a heavy sigh. Jane, still sobbing, stared at him without a word.
She drew a few deep breaths, lifted the corners of her mouth, and spoke in a voice that trembled like someone standing at the edge of a cliff.
"I'm sorry. All I ever do is become a flaw. I'm no help at all..."
At those words, fury shot through him. He struck the table hard enough to break it.
"I told you not to say that! Does nothing I say get through to you?!"
Jane folded forward onto the desk and wept. All the strength went out of Blow at once. For a long time he only watched her shoulders shake, certain that if he spoke again he would say something that would wound her past any mending. He steadied his breath and tried, carefully, to coax her.
"Tomorrow... let's talk again."
"......"
"You are, and I am... yes. Me, especially. I'm too worked up right now."
"......."
Jane, who had been lying face-down, pushed herself upright, and moonlight washed her face bright. Her hair was a tangle, her eyes stained red, and she stared vacantly into the empty air. It hurt him to see it. He did his best to gentle his voice.
"That potion... I won't tell you to stop. Just hold off until tomorrow, all right? I'm asking you."
"......"
"We'll talk again tomorrow. Hm? Go and get some real sleep."
At that, Jane rose as if she no longer had the strength even to answer, and walked out of Hills.
Blow went into the kitchen. He took down a bottle of the Ropert malt he had sworn he would never drink again, filled a beer glass to the brim, and drained it.
He thought the liquor was far too bitter.
Far too bitter.
Jane left him like that and returned to her room, where she soaked the pillow with tears for a long time.
He said he would tell me everything. Me, at least...
Those were the words he had given her the day she first received the notebook from him. For a very long time she had been waiting for him to be the one to speak—from the moment in the garden at Roten, when she overheard him with Hervena, all the way until now.
She had been sure he would tell her himself, putting on a great show of not caring, bravado laid on thick.
Well. It's not as if I'm dying tomorrow. I'll be fine.
If worry made her sulk and snap at him, he would tell her it was all right and smooth a hand over her hair. After that she would have named the part she could carry, and the two of them would have walked the long, grinding road ahead, one step and then another. That was all she had wanted.
Her wish had amounted to no more than that. And it had been, quite literally, nothing but a wish, because her young master had done nothing except avoid the subject, again and again.
She knew she shouldn't feel it. She knew it wasn't right. Even so, Jane resented him. She hated that he kept her so close, day after day, and still treated her like someone standing outside. She hated that he worried over her so much, every time, and never once offered a word about himself.
She had the blanket clutched tight to her chest and was crying without a sound when a soft knock came at the door.
"Who is it..."
"Unni, it's me. Melo..."
"Melo, you should be asleep. We have to open tomorrow..."
"I wanna sleep beside you..."
There was no strength left in Melo's voice. Jane hesitated.
"...Unni..."
The sound of crying left her no choice. She opened the door, and Melo threw both arms around her and rubbed her face against Jane's for a long time.
"...Melo. You were worried."
"Mm..."
"...I'm sorry. For making you worry."
"Did the young master... tell you to go...?"
It was not a question she had seen coming. For an instant her heart seemed to drop straight through her.
"No. He didn't... say anything like that."
"That's good..."
"Were you scared?"
"Mm... I've never seen the young master... get angry like that..."
Melo burrowed closer as she said it. There was warmth in her, real warmth—but from somewhere deep in Jane, a thin chill had begun to crawl upward.
She had been afraid of exactly this. Afraid that Blow, once every feeling in him had settled, would decide she was pushing herself too hard on his account, that all he was doing was making her suffer, and tell her to go back down to Blanya.
She let the memories come. From those dazed, unsteady days in Splas, all the way to the joy of Red Forest only yesterday. The reason she had driven herself every single day, the reason she had even considered brewing a potion dangerous enough to kill, was that this quiet, settled life had been too good. Too happy.
And then the faces rose, sharp and clear. Hervena, casting magic Jane could not even imagine as if it cost her nothing. Yulia's mild, gentle smile. Even Cindy of the Ministry of Finance, asking to be given a little work to do next year.
...Maybe I'm not needed anymore.
The images kept shimmering before her. Jane opened her eyes and bit down on her lower lip. As if she had read the fear there, Melo lifted her head and closed both hands tight around Jane's.
"Unni, you can't leave Melo behind..."
"......"
"Okay? You know that, right?"
"......."
"I'll... I'll even get on my knees..."
But Melo could not get out another word. Jane had pulled her in and was holding her fast.
Melo smoothed a gentle hand down Jane's back, the way her mother used to, long ago, when she herself had been the one whimpering.