UnSouled (Unwind Dystology 3)

Lev snickers and flips his hair back. It’s become a habit. Anytime someone reminds him of his days as a tithe, he takes comfort in that shock of long, unruly blond hair.

“I’m sure my parents know I’m alive now,” Connor says. “My brother must know too.”

That catches Lev’s attention. “I never even knew you had a brother.”

“His name is Lucas. He got the trophies, and I got detention slips. We used to fight all the time—but you must know all about that. You’ve got a whole busload of siblings, right?”

Lev shakes his head. “Not anymore. As far as I’m concerned, I’m now a family of one.”

“I think Una might see that differently, ‘little brother.’â??”

Lev has to admit there’s comfort in that, but not comfort enough. He decides to tell Connor something he’s yet to tell anyone—not even Miracolina during the many desperate days they spent together.

“When the clappers blew up my brother’s house, my father—who I hadn’t seen for over a year—disowned me.”

“That’s harsh,” says Connor. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. He basically said I should have blown myself up that day at Happy Jack.”

Connor offers no response to that. How could he? Yes, Connor’s parents sent him off to be unwound, but what Lev’s father did—that’s a whole other level of heartless.

“It hurt more than anything, but I survived and changed my name from Calder to Garrity, after Pastor Dan, who died when the house blew. I disowned my family right back. I suppose if the hurt ever comes back, I’ll deal with it, but I won’t go looking for it.”

Connor rolls away from him. “Yeah,” he says with a yawn. “Probably best if we don’t.”

• • •

Lev waits until Connor’s breathing is the steady and deep rasp of sleep; then he ventures out into the living room. Una sits in a comfortable chair with a cup of steaming tea—from the scent of it, one of Elina’s herbal elixirs. Una appears lost in thought as complex as the flavorful brew.

“Which one is it?” Lev asks.

She’s startled at first to hear his voice. “Oh—Elina calls it téce’ni hinentééni. ‘Night Recovery.’ Calms the soul and stomach. I think it’s mostly chamomile and ginseng.”

“Any left for me?”

She pours him a cup, and he lets the leaves steep, watching them rise and fall in the currents of the cooling liquid. Una sits across from him, content with silence. The only sound is Grace’s gentle snoring across the room. Usually Lev is at peace with silence as well, but what hangs in the air between them demands words.

“Do you think Pivane knows you’re the one who fired that shot through the window?”

Una makes no move of surprise at Lev’s suggestion. She just slowly sips her tea. “I’m insulted by your accusation, little brother,” she finally says.

“I’ve always respected you, Una,” Lev says. “Respect yourself enough not to lie.”

She glances at him—perhaps a dozen thoughts playing in her eyes before she puts down her cup and says: “Pivane knows. I’m sure he does. Why else would he have brought you here and make me promise to protect you?” She glances to the rifle beside her. “Which I will. Even if it’s myself that I’m protecting you from.”

“Why?” Lev asks. “Why did you do it?”

“Why?” Una mocks, beginning to lose her temper. “Why, why, and why! That’s always the question, isn’t it? I ask ‘why’ all the time, and the only answer I get are rustling leaves and the shrill chirps of mating birds.”

Lev says nothing. He can see that her eyes are moist, but she doesn’t allow tears to build.

“I did it because where you go, terrible things follow, Lev. The first time you came, the parts pirates came in your wake and took Wil. And now you bring the most wanted AWOL in the history of unwinding. I thought that shot would get the Tashi’nes to see reason and send you all on your way, but I suppose I got what I deserved.”

“You said you wanted me to stay.”

“I did and I didn’t. I do and I don’t. Today was a bad day. Today I wanted you and your friends gone.”

“And tonight?”