Justice Unending

By Elizabeth Spencer

Within the walls of the Bastion, it's an honor to become a host for an Unending—the bodiless, immortal spirits who rule the country.

But for Faye, it meant her sister would have to die.

When Faye sneaks into the Mother Duchess's manor, she just wanted to see her sister one last time. Instead, Faye finds a manor in chaos, a murdered man, and an Unending assassin named Aris who needs a new body—Faye’s body—to bring the Bastion to its knees.

Now Faye's harboring the Bastion's most wanted criminal. And if she wants to live, she'll have to escape the Duchess and her immortals, all while keeping Aris from harming anyone else.

There's just one problem—Aris is not the villain. And now Faye is the only one who can help her stop the Duchess before anyone else—and especially Faye—has to die for the Unendings' whims.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Teen
• Release date: Nov 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781773390673

Elizabeth Spencer

Elizabeth Spencer (1921–2019) is author of nine novels, seven collections of short stories, a memoir, and a play. Her novella The Light in the Piazza (1960) was adapted for the screen in 1962 and transformed into a Broadway musical of the same name in 2005. She was a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and a charter member of the Fellowship of Southern Writers.

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Published by Evernight Teen ® at Smashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright© 2016 Elizabeth Spencer

ISBN: 978-1-77339-067-3

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Jessica Ruth

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To my husband, for believing in me even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. (And also for that change in the farmlands. I know you’re still super proud about that one!)

And to my good friend and always-reliable beta reader, John, who read this roughly five hundred times and still had wonderful suggestions every time.

JUSTICE UNENDING

Elizabeth Spencer

Copyright © 2016

Chapter One

Faye swung her legs and looked over the edge of the world.

The wall that surrounded Brittany Bastion had once been the only defense between the Bastion and the world outside, although its wind-blasted merlons and old towers currently seemed to do nothing except block Faye’s view. But, after months of searching and a dozen scraped knees, she had finally found a tree tall enough to show her what was beyond it. To show her the Wilds.

There were supposed to be monsters out there—crazed animals and vicious immortals, the ruins of a hundred cities that didn’t have a wall to protect them. But for all the stories about the unthinkable horrors that might have hidden outside, all Faye saw were the trees. If there was anything more interesting alive out there, it wasn’t eager to show itself.

It was probably not, she supposed, a good enough view to justify the scolding she would get for coming here. But Faye wasn’t in any rush to leave. After all, she was already embarrassing her family, infuriating the maids, and trampling every rule of decorum.

Faye’s family was going to have visitors. And not just any visitors, but the hoity-toity, oh-so-important people her father knew from his diplomatic work at the parliament. These were important people, the wise senators and the immortal Unending, who were all so graceful and intelligent and smart and so terribly easy to upset.

Faye was far too good at being upsetting. She never meant to—in fact, she tried very hard not to—but every time there was a dinner party, she managed to say something ridiculous, forget everyone’s names, and loudly announce something everyone else was trying not to say.

So here she was instead, looking over the wall. And if she was going to sit with her corset half-laced and her boots off, halfway up a tree, she might as well stare at the Wilds. At least she was good at being scandalous.

She still wished there was something to see, though. There were people out there, supposedly, but they stayed far away from the Bastion. Maybe they were too busy starving in caves and huddling in bushes, or whatever else people did out there. Faye didn’t really know. Civilized people didn’t think about such things, and Faye—even barefoot with her hair down—didn’t want to think about it, either.

Faaaaaye! a woman yelled at the top of her lungs. "Faye!"

Faye held back a sigh. She could ignore that. It would be so easy to ignore that. She could stay here, be quiet, and no one would ever find her. But if someone had come this far, then Faye was in much more trouble than she’d thought. She let that sigh go, then eased herself down branch by branch. Faye dug her boots and hat out of the underbrush and loosely laced them up.

That must have been Olivia. No other maid could yell like her.

She found Olivia huffing her way through the woods, her cheeks flushed red with exhaustion and anger. The maid spun around at the sound of Faye’s boots on the undergrowth.

"What in the world were you doing? she snapped as soon as Faye was close enough for a proper scolding. You look like you were rolling around in the bushes!"

"I would never, Faye replied blithely. I was up a tree."

Olivia picked a twig out of Faye’s hair and waved it in front of her eyes. "Well, your hair is a mess. Your skirts are caked with dirt, and I won’t even look at your boots. But that’s not important. Your sister is feeling unwell. Help me walk her home."

Justine’s here? What do you mean she isn’t feeling well?

She wore herself out looking for you. We’ve been searching for more than an hour! And if you weren’t skulking about the woods like some sort of fox-child, she wouldn’t have been here at all!

Faye clenched her jaw. Where is she?

Olivia fixed her with one last, withering look and made a disapproving noise before turning around. She stepped gingerly through the underbrush. Faye stomped after her.

Faye’s sister, Justine, was exactly the type of person who would walk herself to exhaustion. Justine took her responsibilities seriously. Disappointing her parents put her into fits. She never missed her lessons, even when she was sick, and she seemed to believe that it was her sacred duty to be the daughter her parents wanted her to be. It hurt her to the very core when they were upset about anything, and when that anything was Faye, she was compelled to set things right.

The dinner party must have been more important than she’d thought if Justine and Olivia had come looking for her. It didn’t look like she’d be spending this evening out in the woods. She wondered how much trouble was waiting for her.

Justine was sitting with her back against the wrinkly bark of an elm and her knees tucked up beneath her. She didn’t look like someone who had tracked her sister for an hour through the woods. Her dove-gray walking dress hadn’t picked up the dirt she was sitting in; her vividly scarlet hair was tucked back into a bun that was as neat as if it had been just pinned. The only inappropriate thing was how she was sitting, with her face buried in her hands.

What’s wrong? Faye asked as she slid down an embankment—grinding dirt into her hems and scuffing her boots—and rushed up to her. Did you twist an ankle? Did you fall?

She found you. I’m so glad. Justine pulled her face up and gave a shaky smile. I’m just a little tired. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.

I told you that she was tired! Olivia yelled down at them as she skidded down the embankment. Do you think I wouldn’t have told you if she broke something?

That was true. Olivia would have been trumpeting it to the heavens. But something seemed wrong. Justine didn’t look the kind of tired someone got when they walked too much. Justine was pale in the face when she smiled up at Faye. She stood by degrees, wobbling as she forced her legs beneath her, and steadied herself against the tree.

Faye took her by the hand and gave her a gentle tug. Come on. Let’s go home.

You’re not going to argue? Justine asked.

Not if you’re not feeling well.

Then I’m glad I wore myself out.

It wasn’t worth arguing with Justine anyway. Faye already knew she was wrong. It was easiest to not talk about it.

Someone’s coming tonight, Faye prompted.

Yes. I was going to tell you this morning, but you were out the door before I could catch you, Justine said. Her voice was pinched. She must have hurt something. There’s a diplomat, a Mister Pavoney, who is visiting from Rahnet. Father is holding a dinner for him, his family, and his associates. They made a very nice gift of money when Father was applying for this position, and he is quite desperate to impress them.

Faye didn’t keep track of her father’s guests, much less who gave whom money. And I’m supposed to be there?

Well, he doesn’t have sons for us to meet, Justine said with a small, short laugh. But yes, Father wants us both there. Olivia and I thought we’d bring you back before he noticed you were out, but it’s taken more time than I thought it would.

You should have gone home if you were tired.

I hadn’t found you yet.

Faye knew better than to argue with that.

Justine moved down the path with terrible slowness, putting one foot in front of the other as if she carried a massive weight on each. Faye found herself wishing she hadn’t gone quite so deep into the woods. This close to the wall, the path was little more than packed dirt—it was not, after all, a very scenic place to picnic. But after a few minutes, Faye saw the gleaming eyes of the iron gas lamps and the stone walkway that wove beneath them. When Faye heard the thin whistle of a steam train, she almost sighed with relief. If they were close enough to hear Springlily Station, then they were almost home.

By the time they stepped out of the woods and into the gardens behind their family’s home, there were three carriages lined up in the driveway.

We’re late! Justine gasped. We have to hurry. We…

She shuddered and clutched a hand to her stomach. Faye tightened her grip on Justine’s hand. What’s wrong?

I feel a little sick.

You ate something bad, Faye decided, and then you forced yourself to walk for hours anyway. Is that it? We’ll get you inside and to your room, and you can lie down until you feel better.

I don’t think I ate anything disagreeable, Justine murmured. And I can’t lie down. There are guests.

And what about them? You can barely stand straight! It’s fine. I’ll sit with them and say something so ridiculous that they won’t even remember you weren’t there.

The three of them were approaching the kitchen door at the rear of the home. Olivia ran ahead to open it. Faye guided Justine step by step toward the house.

Absolutely not, Justine protested. Father will want me to…

Her hand slipped out of Faye’s as she fell to the kitchen floor.

Trays rattled. A half dozen women gasped. Justine was on her knees and forearms, her head inches away from the tiles. Her fingers clawed at the grout.

It happened so quickly Faye was left standing with her hand in the air. She dropped to her knees and put an arm gently on her sister’s back, her voice shaking so hard she had to force herself not to yell, "Why didn’t you say you felt this bad?"

I— Justine croaked. She clenched her eyelids shut, clamped her arms against her chest, and bent over herself, folding her body into a tight ball of pain.

The maids crushed around them. Olivia crowded up behind Faye, sounding worried. We’ll have to carry her to her room. Two or three of us can do it. Faye, tell your father—

No, Justine whispered. No.

Faye watched Justine’s back rise and fall with every unsteady breath. "Oh. Oh. Me? You want me."

What? Faye asked.

I can’t… I’m sorry. Please, one moment… I…

Justine?

Justine didn’t answer. Slowly, unsteadily, she pushed herself up to her knees. She was still shaking as she pulled her arms away from the curve of her stomach, lifted them, and showed their backs to her sister.

Thin black sigils ran all the way down her arms, spiraling and looping from her knuckles to her elbows. They looked like stylized flames.

Those were the sigils of an Unending.

Faye stiffened. The maids sucked in a collective gasp of surprise. Only Olivia managed to croak, Whose are they?

Justine stared at her own hands like they belonged to someone else and cocked her head to the side, as if listening to a voice only she could hear. Belisama. She paused a moment, dreamlike. The Mother’s guard? I would imagine that she’d choose someone big, someone strong, someone who can… She fluttered her eyes weakly, and it sent tears sliding down her cheeks. I am admirably responsible? Duty? Is that enough?

Faye wished Justine would stop talking. Her sister did not ramble. Her sister was proper and well spoken, and this … this was terribly, desperately wrong. Faye stared at the sigils as her stomach shuddered like a pot in rolling boil.

Justine pulled herself away from Faye as she rose to her feet. Olivia offered her a shoulder, and Justine leaned against it before she tried to speak again. We need to send a message to the Mother Duchess. I’ll have to go there, talk with her, be Fixed. Her eyes widened, as if she only then realized what she was saying. I have to tell Mother and Father. I have to get my things in order. I have to make sure the maids know what to do. I…

No one said anything, even as Justine trailed off into silence. The maids looked at her achingly. Olivia shot Faye a concerned glance, then gently took Justine by the arm. Come, miss. Let’s tell your parents the news.

Faye tried to breathe and choked on a sob. No one seemed to notice. The maids stepped around her, their skirts rustling against the tiles as they followed into the hall, leaving the half-finished dinner still bubbling and popping on the stoves.

Faye couldn’t move. She was trembling, she realized, trembling so hard her fingers were numb. Her brain looped wildly, madly, hysterically through a pair of awful, unbearable thoughts.

Her sister had been chosen by an Unending. Her sister was going to die.

Justine was telling her parents that right now. They would make decisions. They would make plans. Panic rose in her stomach. She couldn’t sit here in the kitchen, alone, while things were said and done and decided without her. She shoved herself to her feet and ran to the parlor, where the maids were crowded around the open door.

Inside, the conversation had stopped. Justine stood in the center of the room, her arms outstretched and her sigils turned toward the crowd. Everyone stared in wonder. Faye’s mother, tucked in the back corner, was pale as a sheet. Her father’s hand hovered beside an overturned glass of brandy, which was spilling unnoticed down the side of his pants. Only one person looked like he was able to speak—a middle-aged man with thick spectacles, who had managed to drag a smile to his lips.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and said, Congratulations.

Chapter Two

The Whitlock household was a riot of activity. Mister Pavoney and his wife, who were staying at the Mother Duchess’s mansion, decided to take the news to her immediately. Faye’s family should have had the next few hours to themselves, but their neighbors had barged in twenty minutes later. They apologized for calling so late, even as they could barely contain their excitement.

Faye blamed the maids. Someone hadn’t kept their mouth shut. But even though Faye’s mother was pale, jittery, and entirely not up to the task of entertaining, Faye left her alone with the crowd.

She found Justine in her room. Her sister was rushing through her dressing chambers. She picked up armfuls of clothing at a time, dumped them on her bed, and sorted them into piles. She spoke constantly, steadily, to herself.

Really? I think they are very nice. Mobility? She laughed a little, uncomfortably. What do you mean? Oh. No. You certainly couldn’t do that in these. I see.

She was holding a conversation with the Unending inside her. It made Faye queasy to watch. Faye leaned against the door, her urge to speak dead and gone. Justine stiffened at the sound of the creaking wood. She looked so fierce that Faye jumped backward.

Her expression softened immediately. Faye. You startled me.

Justine looked a great deal more than startled. She looked like she had been ready to hit her. Faye swallowed heavily and asked, Are you packing?

Packing? Oh, no. I am preparing these for donation. She smiled and held up a pleated dress. Would you like to keep some? You might yet grow into them.

No, thank you, Faye murmured, then fled.

She couldn’t stay with her parents, and she wouldn’t face the guests. She refused to watch Justine wandering around and talking aloud to herself. Faye considered running into the woods, deep enough that even Olivia couldn’t find her. But it was already after dark, and she didn’t know where she would find a lantern. The thought of snapping a leg in the darkness managed to scare her, even now.

So she walked up the stairs to the top of the manor. There was a small linen closet there, where the maids stored the sheets for the guest rooms. Faye shoved herself into the corner and tugged the door shut. And there, in the musty darkness, she pulled her knees to her chest and cried like she was five years old again, with uncontrollable, wrenching gasps of air that made her ribs ache. Of all the thousands of people in Brittany who were fierce and strong and brave, why did Belisama have to choose Justine?

Faye knew Belisama, of course. She knew of her, at least—because, while Faye had been dragged to her fair share of balls at the Mother’s mansion, she had rarely seen her. Belisama was the head of the Mother Duchess’s guard. She was known for being dutiful, fair, and for having an absolutely awful temper.

But even if Faye hadn’t paid her much attention, the newspapers—and the neighbors, and every single person who dropped by the manor—were obsessed with her. Belisama had been in a terrible accident three weeks ago. The engineers were repairing a badly damaged piece of the wall, and Belisama and a small cadre of guards had been sent to ensure that nothing from the Wilds approached them. But apparently their concern had been for the wrong thing, because a segment of the wall collapsed in the middle of the repairs, harming several engineers and mortally injuring Belisama. She hadn’t been seen since, and now everyone was all aflutter about how long it had been and how carefully she must have been looking for her next body.

But why did it have to be Justine’s?

Tonight’s guests wouldn’t be the last of the well-wishers. It was a great honor to be chosen. As news spread, every close friend, associate, and distant acquaintance would call. They would all talk about how unsurprised they were that Justine had been chosen. The worst of them would ask what the Mother Duchess was gifting Faye’s family in exchange for their sacrifice—would they be moving to a bigger house? Would her father ask for a promotion? A place in the parliament? Or would they simply be rolling in wealth?

Faye reached blindly for a sheet,