Chapter 3
"Ava?"
Ava has never really believed in the whole concept of time standing still. Sure, it moved agonizingly slow for twelve years while she lay in a bed unable to feel anything below her neck. And once she got the Halo it did a complete one-eighty. Time started moving too quickly, not allowing her as much opportunity to just stop and enjoy her newfound freedom. The only time she ever really wanted it to stop completely was for the two months she spent in Switzerland with Beatrice—and though they weren't actively fighting for their lives then, it still felt like nowhere near enough time.
Because it wasn't.
This… this is different.
This feels like time has frozen around Ava, everything else at a standstill except for her. The only sound she registers after hearing her name uttered in disbelief is the fast-paced thumping of her own heartbeat whooshing in her ears. She stands there, posture stiff, right hand stopped centimeters away from the curved metal edge of the Arc she was just touching, having jerked back in surprise at the new voice.
Well, not new to her. Ava knows that voice from front to back and every space in between. Knew who it belonged to the instant the 'a' hit her ears, not needing the 'va' that followed to confirm it. Doesn't have to turn around to be sure because she doesn't need to. Would be able to pick it out from among a million similar voices having committed its tone, volume, cadence, articulation, and pronunciation to memory. Ava can't forget if she tried, no matter how long she spent in another dimension.
It takes her another moment to realize the Halo isn't the thing preventing her from movement like it did before when she tried putting her fist through the Arc. No, the Halo is as quiet as she is, almost like it's waiting to see what Ava does next. But she can feel its emotions as if they're an extension of her own. It's buzzing with a nervous sort of energy and a pang of something else. Yearning? It's hard to know for sure what it wants without words. If only she knew what she was going to do next.
Because as much as Ava knows that voice and wants to lean into the intense feeling of amorousness it evokes within her chest, she's terrified to turn around in the event that she's just hearing things and her fucked up mind is playing a cruel trick on her. Because Ava is nearly certain that if she does turn and this is real her whole plan will crumble faster than a sandcastle at rising tide.
But she also can’t stand statue-still like this forever. In what little of her logical mind remains, Ava is aware that despite feeling as though time has stopped, the earth is still spinning and time has continued flowing. What feels like hours has actually only been about seven seconds.
Time to pull up your big girl pants, Ava, she thinks. Stop being such a coward.
With a steadying breath, Ava squares her shoulders in 'fake it til you make it' confidence as a poor attempt to convince herself she's much braver than she currently feels and spins around to face the doorway. Like a super-powered magnet, her eyes immediately find wide brown ones, almost as light as honey in the rays of sun that stream through the gaps in the ceiling.
Ava’s heart stutters.
There’s no denying this is real anymore and a myriad of emotions hits her like a shit ton of bricks.
Because Beatrice is here.
Despite her choppy memories from the other world, one thing Ava can remember—is absolutely sure of—is a constant, nearly unbearable longing for the comfort of quiet nights back in a small Swiss town wrapped up in the warm embrace of the most important person in her life. Her person. Regardless of everything else, Ava needed to get back to Beatrice so terribly that she was willing to risk death to do it. Actually, that might be the only reason she persevered long enough to escape at all.
She’s vaguely aware of Camila and Yasmine standing a little further back but is unable to look away from those eyes, staring back at her in a warring mixture of hope and apprehension.
“Bea,” Ava croaks, vision blurring as she unconsciously stumbles forward a few steps, the mission forgotten for now. Her mind is consumed entirely by Beatrice standing right here in front of her.
That's all it takes to break the spell that's fallen over the room, time resuming. Beatrice crosses the space between them in very quick strides that teeter on the edge of being considered a full-blown sprint. Ava has half a second to brace herself before Beatrice is slamming into her roughly, lacking any of her usual, measured grace and instead almost smacking Ava's nose with her chin in her haste to wrap her arms around her shoulders. Not that Ava's complaining because, finally, with Beatrice cradling the back of her head with one hand and the other directly over the Halo, fingers tangled tightly in her shirt, she's home.
They stand there, clutching at each other so tightly that it's almost like they're trying to mold themselves into one being.
Ava buries her nose in the curve of Beatrice’s neck, breathing her in and not at all minding the slightly stale scent that clings to her clothes. With Bea’s cheek pressed against the side of her head, their bodies flush together, and Ava can imagine living in this moment for the rest of her life.
Only Beatrice pulls back slightly out of the embrace to lean their foreheads together. The tips of their noses gently brushing together, Beatrice’s hand comes up to cup Ava’s cheek reverently, eyes flicking between Ava’s. Her thumb ever-so-lightly traces up and down the skin there, like she’s afraid Ava will disappear.
“Hi,” Ava says softly.
“Hi,” Beatrice’s answering watery chuckle is interrupted by a hiccup. “This feels like a dream.”
"I know the feeling," Ava catches a runaway tear racing down Beatrice's face, swiping it away.
Deja vu thwacks her over the head at the painful familiarity of their positioning, so much like the moment Ava said goodbye to Beatrice for the first time in Adriel's Cathedral, then phased through the floor, ninety-nine percent sure she was heading straight to her own demise, willing to do whatever it took to save Bea and the rest of her friends. Most of the contentment that had filled her seeps out at the cruel irony that this is going to end in much of the same way.
Hopefully without, you know, the dying part.
Selfishly, Ava allows herself this moment, aware that it's going to hurt Beatrice but unable to help herself.
She meant what she said before. That's the Warrior Nun's job, right? They die so everyone else can live. I'm doing this so you can live your life, so live it. Okay?
Giving Beatrice the chance to really live is worth the risk of dying again.
Permanently, this time.
The analytical side of Beatrice's brain seems to activate, Ava thinks as she watches her expression change. Yet, the emotional half is putting up a hell of a fight.
"How did you return without utilizing the Arc?" Beatrice changes course faster than a target-seeking missile when an F-22 fighter jet attempts a maneuver to evade it. Her hands drop down to Ava's abdomen, not touching but hovering hesitantly, clearly wanting to see something for herself. "The divinium—are you—"
"It's gone," Ava assures. She lifts up her shirt unabashedly to offer physical proof, putting her stomach on full display. All that remains where the otherworldly metal pierced her are a few jagged scars left behind. "I'm fully healed and divinium free. As for the first question, apparently, the Halo can do a little bit more than we thought."
Beatrice stares hard at the flat, almost silvery-white marks and Ava watches the sight mollify her. Then her eyebrows draw together in thought, moving her gaze back up to make eye contact. She glances over Ava's shoulder at the space where Lilith is occupying, for sure with her arms crossed and a disinterested expression.
"Ava, what happened to Christine and Dora?"
"Uh…" Ava's lips twist into a grimace. She fumbles for something, anything but the truth. The elation filling her splutters out in the same way an inflated but untied balloon does when you let it go.
"It was just a mild sedative," Lilith offers, and Ava can't help but wonder if she's also got super hearing in addition to her other abilities.
Regardless, the interjection is seriously not helpful because it opens the doors to questions she really doesn't want to answer. Because Ava can't explain to Beatrice that she needs to destroy the Arc without her wondering why Ava needs to do it. Because Ava doesn't know and anything she says will just tow Beatrice into the middle of this fight, which is exactly what Ava's trying to avoid. It's just so much harder now that Beatrice is standing before her and Ava can't bring herself to lie outright. She can only hope Lilith correctly interprets the look she throws at her over her shoulder, one that's supposed to seem like a glare but holds within it a different message.
"I needed to be sure they wouldn't try and stop me," Ava tells the beginnings of the truth anyway, reminded of the last lie she told Bea that led them to a dead end instead of Adriel and the Arc. She quickly glances away before she adds, "from destroying the Arc."
"You…want to destroy it?" Beatrice repeats slowly. Ava looks back up in time to watch her eyes move from the interdimensional portal machine to where the Halo Pulse created a large and fairly impressive crater in the far wall, stone crumbling at the edges, and back to Ava. "Why?"
Ava squeezes her eyes shut for a beat before reopening them. She tries to parse through her scattered recollections but they're still as jumbled up as they were moments ago. "There's something on the other side of the Arc that's so much worse than Adriel—someone who doesn't care if our world is collateral damage in a war we can't win."
Comprehension must dawn on Beatrice because her confusion melts into understanding.
“Reya?”
Just the name alone elicits an involuntary, full-body shiver from Ava. Briefly, she wonders if this is what the wizards felt when anyone spoke Voldemort’s name. But there’s no time to linger on that because Lilith has stepped up to them and Beatrice shifts her attention to her fellow—former?—Sister Warrior.
“This is the Holy War you alluded to?” Beatrice clarifies. Lilith gives her the affirmative with a single minuscule nod, which is all it takes to activate Beatrice’s incredibly astute mind. Ava can practically see the gears in her head churning. “What’s your plan?”
Ava avoids her gaze by looking up at Lilith, who’s watching her and waiting for an answer to Beatrice’s query. Unease swirls around her gut as Beatrice slowly scrutinizes the two of them until she goes for the one more likely to give her an answer. “Ava?”
It’s physically painful for Ava to respond and she avoids any and all eye contact as she utters, “I-I can’t tell you.”
“You…” Beatrice is absolutely perplexed at this point, Ava can tell from the tone of her voice. She needs to do this now or she’s going to lose what little nerve she has left at this point.
“I can’t tell you,” Ava repeats firmly this time, fighting back tears as she steps closer to Lilith and meets brown eyes filled with a heartwrenching combination of confusion and hurt. Faintly, she feels the Halo hum a high-pitched whine. Fuck, this is a lot harder than she imagined, especially when the images of their lifeless bodies flash through her mind from one of her clearer memories. “I’m sorry, Bea, but I won’t let you, or any of you,” she glances at Camila and Yasmine, who have both gotten closer, but were stopped by her words, “die for a fight that I have to finish.”
In a twist of cruel irony, Ava can’t tear her eyes away from Beatrice’s shell-shocked expression. She feels Lilith place a hand on her shoulder and the sudden rise in temperature around her signaling the beginning of a teleport.
“I’m sorry,” she says barely above a whisper as the air distorts.
Strong fingers wrap around her wrist faster than Ava can comprehend before they’re popping out onto the sidewalk. Ava dumbly follows the fingers up to the face of the person that had latched onto her despite already knowing who they belong to.
Beatrice had piggybacked on Lilith’s teleport by grabbing Ava at the last possible second. Rather than her previous confusion, Beatrice now looks downright murderous. Eerily similar to how she looks in a fight.
Uselessly, Ava tries to tug her arm out of Beatrice's firm grasp, which doesn’t budge. She even tries phasing but the Halo is apparently still operating in whatever capacity it deems fit. In this moment, that means doing absolutely nothing. The Halo developing a mind of its own was not on her bingo card and is quickly becoming a real nuisance.
Lilith does little more than roll her eyes at their interloper before she disappears in another haze of red, leaving Ava with an increasingly irate Beatrice. There’s little Ava can do but wait for the inevitable eruption of feelings.
However, when Beatrice does speak, her voice is low, bordering on dangerous.
“Are you serious?”
This is definitely a rhetorical question.
Ava blinks. “Am I…what?”
“I cannot believe that after everything we’ve been through,” Beatrice pauses to take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “that you seriously think that I would ever just willingly go along with you trying to do whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish on your own and do nothing because of the possibility that I might die.” Ava opens her mouth to protest, but Beatrice is not done. “Do you understand how hypocritical that is, considering you nearly died doing the same thing days ago?”
“That’s not the—”
Beatrice cuts her off, “And you don’t get to let me do anything. If anything, I won’t allow you to turn yourself into some kind of martyr. What happened to trusting your team? You told me ‘They can’t beat us, Bea. Not together.’ Does that no longer apply?” Her beseeching stare lances straight through Ava’s resolve more effectively than an acetylene torch cuts through a slab of steel.
Of course, Bea knows exactly what to say to get through to her. Ava’s rarely ever seen her rendered completely speechless—except maybe the few times in Switzerland that Ava planted a kiss on her cheek—despite her proclivity for carefully choosing her words. It doesn’t even surprise her that much which is why she planned to avoid Beatrice entirely until she finished what she had to do. Throwing Ava’s own words into her face is as good a strategy as they come. Ava can’t even produce a semi-sensible counter-argument for her stance—not that she’ll ever be able to out-argue Beatrice, now that she thinks about it.
So, like a boulder hit with a direct Halo Pulse, Ava’s resolve crumbles to pieces.
“No,” her shoulders slump as the tension leaks out of her body. “You’re right. I did say that and I meant it. I still do.”
“So you aren’t going to do something foolish like try to save the world on your own?”
“No.”
“And you’re not just telling me what I want to hear?”
“No,” Ava repeats, “I promise.”
“Good,” Beatrice nods resolutely, expression softening a tad and lips twitching. “I really didn’t want to pull out my trump card.”
Ava’s not sure she wants to know what else Beatrice has up her sleeve that is more convincing than what she did say. Instead, she grins and says, “I figured you were a debate club kinda girl, but I didn’t think they taught things as unbefitting as poker at preppy boarding school.” Her lips stretch even further as she watches Beatrice’s nose wrinkle at the playful jab.
“You know you’re making it really difficult to be mad at you,” Beatrice admits, her posture loosening up.
“Because I’m charming?” Ava wiggles her eyebrows.
Beatrice’s response is like a double-edged blade in that it might be good or it might be bad. “Among other things.” The way her eyes crinkle leads Ava to believe she’s teasing her. “Oh,” Beatrice says, “and it was Spades.”
“What?”
“There aren’t trump cards in poker,” Beatrice explains. She’s definitely teasing Ava, what with that overly innocent tone and subtle upward quirk to her lips. “I played Spades.”
Flooded once more with an intense joy so strong it might burst right out of her body, Ava laughs wetly and finds herself basically blurting out, "I really missed you, Bea.” Her admission softens the remaining tension between them.
“I missed you too,” Beatrice is almost shy in her response. Ava assumes it’s because openly talking about her feelings is still a relatively new behavior for Beatrice. “You were gone for three days but it felt like an eternity to me.” Beatrice’s eyes widen a bit. “I’m sorry. I realize that you’ve been gone for so much longer if Jillian’s calculations are correct.” Her minimizing her own experience surprises Ava, who had been more hung up on Beatrice waxing poetic—probably unintentionally because to her everything Beatrice says sounds better than anything Shakespeare could come up with.
“Theoretical physics isn’t really my forte.” Still, Ava tries to do the math in her head and comes up with a rough estimate. “But what’s 5 years—give or take—that you can’t really remember?” Right as she’s saying it, Ava realizes she probably shouldn’t have. Now Beatrice appears to be caught between two stools, conflicted on which part of her statement to focus on.
“What do you mean you ‘can’t’ remember?”
Ah, so we’re having this conversation again. Ava wonders if she’ll remember telling people how she can’t remember more than she actually remembers—a real paradox.
Ava catches sight of Lilith approaching with Camila and Yasmine. Well, that answers the question of where she disappeared to. Camila walks alongside Lilith gesturing animatedly, while Yasmine trails after them. Only the curly-haired woman could get away with being so close to Lilith without getting punched in the throat, Ava should know. Yet, if anything, Lilith seems unsettled rather than annoyed.
“I promise I will tell you everything—well everything I can,” Ava returns her attention to Bea. She has no doubts that they’ll be going over all of it in extremely meticulous detail, but she’d rather do it once instead of repeating it again for the others. “But I’d prefer to tell you all together and not one at a time,” the others reach them, catching Ava’s words as she continues, “because I’m beat. Apparently, transdimensional traveling really drains the old gas tank.”
She watches Beatrice nod until Camila darts forward to pull her in an enthusiastic hug,
“Ava ¡vaya!” Camila laughs, nearly bouncing with excitement as she jostles Ava around. “It’s so good to see you! I'm so happy you’re back and that you’re healed, too!” Pulling back, she levels a pretty stern look Ava's way. “Now, no more running off! Do you know how difficult Beatrice is without you?" The last part is delivered in a conspiratorial whisper, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Ava laughs and gives a little salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Welcome back, Ava.” Yasmine pipes up from where she’s continued to give Lilith a wide berth, but she’s still smiling genuinely.
"Hey, Yasmine. Glad to see you're sticking around." Ava notices a familiar pendant dangling from the Coptic nun's neck. "You've even impressed Mother Superion, which I know from personal experience is a hard feat. You'll be kicking ass in no time. It's great to have you on the team." A deep blush blooms on Yasmine's cheeks at the praise as red as a beetroot in July.
"It's a true honor to be here," Yasmine replies, flustered. She fiddles with the silver symbol marking her a member of the OCS and smiles bashfully.
"Now that the reunion is over, do you think we can return our attention to the matter at hand?" Lilith interjects.
Beneath the layer of disinterest that she’s meticulously crafted to near perfection, Ava can detect the teeniest hint of discomfort in the way Lilith’s arms are tightly crossed. It’s unclear whether it stems from them—well, most of them—being together again for the first time after her treachery or if it’s because of something else. Reading Lilith’s body language is an art she isn’t sure she’ll ever fully master. Beatrice, however… Beatrice probably does. They’ve known each other much longer and Beatrice is nothing if not insightful. She’ll have to ask her later when Lilith isn’t around to kill her for doing so.
“Right, you were speaking about a Holy War?” Beatrice looks from Ava to Lilith. “And you said something about it before Ava went through the portal. I’m assuming it’s worse than anything we’ve seen before,” she guesses, scanning their faces. “I feared that was going to be the case, considering your attempt to go all Frodo Baggins on your own.”
Ava blinks. “Did… did you just reference The Lord of the Rings ?”
“I know you think I only read encyclopedias and books ‘older than dirt’ but I enjoy a good novel,” Beatrice defends herself, not really as exasperated as she puts on. “I’m surprised that you understood it.”
“If there’s one thing I could win a Jeopardy category in its pop culture references. You know I’ve seen enough television and film to put Roger Ebert to shame.” Ava rolls her eyes good-naturedly at Bea’s sudden disdain. “Yeah, yeah, we know you think that making movie adaptations of books should be a criminal offense.”
Her quip earns her a cute scrunched-up nose that knocks the air from her lungs like a sucker punch to the gut. Ava’s hit with a surge of affection so strong the words holy shit, I love you almost slip past her lips. And it’s not like she doesn’t know she loves Bea enough to die a hundred times over because, yeah, she does. Ava has even spoken those three words out loud, yet now really isn’t the right time to do it again, especially because she went through the Arc before she could hear whether Beatrice echoed them back at her.
“Lilith has a point,” Camila seems rather reluctant to interrupt their banter, observing it with a grin so wide it nearly splits her face. She tones it down a bit as she suggests to Ava, “Maybe you and she can fill us in back at headquarters, which I’ve dubbed Cat’s Cradle two-point-oh.”
“It’s a nice place,” Ava offers, balking at the three confused stares directed her way. “Um, we may have stopped by before we came here to liberate the sword.”
“You broke in to steal the sword?”
“We didn’t break into anything! The doors were unlocked so we just let ourselves in. If it makes a difference, we didn’t take the crown,” Ava points out, only for Lilith to provide some unnecessary context.
“Only because you couldn’t find it.”
“Alright,” Camila stops their squabbling before it can dissolve into something physical. There's a soft jingle as she tosses something to Beatrice, who catches it deftly, revealing a set of car keys. “Lilith can take Yas and me in her vehicle,” she looks to Lilith for confirmation that she drove here and gets a slight angling of the head, “and Bea and Ava can drive the van and we’ll meet back at the Cradle.” Camila doesn’t give anyone time to argue, pulling an apprehensive Yasmine along by the elbow.
Ava can't help but admire how Camila's really grown into her own. Still the heart of their team, but with much more assuredness. It appears to astound Lilith too as she follows them without complaint, which is the opposite of how she behaved when Ava gave orders.
The three disappear around the corner, leaving Ava and Beatrice alone once more. Fortunately, this time, the latter isn't giving her another verbal lashing for a self-sacrificial and foolhardy plan.
Beatrice jerks her thumb up and over her shoulder. "Ready?"
With a nod, Ava falls into step beside her feeling like a puzzle piece slotting exactly into place so perfectly that you can hardly see the borders that make them two separate parts. It brings Ava a special kind of comfort that even without her memory she knows she hasn't had in years. Beatrice leads the way to a nondescript van parked between two similar-looking ones. Leave it to the OCS to procure the most popular model in Spain to avoid drawing any attention because it blends in seamlessly.
"Do you remember when you gave me that driving lesson back in the Alps?" Ava asks out of nowhere, waiting for Bea to unlock the doors. Hans was sick that day, so they had to take the bar owner's truck to pick up some inventory from a local vendor. Ava managed to sweet talk Beatrice into giving her a turn at the wheel considering it was early morning and the small town was relatively quiet. Beatrice caved almost immediately which was one of the first signs Ava noticed that she might feel the same way about her.
"I remember you nearly crashing the truck into the back of the bar," Beatrice reminds her, slipping into the driver's seat. "I don't think Leon would have appreciated you turning his establishment into an impromptu drive-thru." She adjusts her mirrors and moves the seat around to properly position herself. It wouldn't surprise Ava if Beatrice has the DGT guidebook memorized because the woman turns over the ignition and places her hands at ten and two on the wheel.
Ignoring the teasing, Ava says, "And I'll never get better if I don't learn!" She still hasn't gotten into the car yet.
"Get in the car, Ava."
It's hard to believe she ever took for granted hearing Beatrice speak her name in the way she did. Didn't realize how much the careful enunciation of each letter, like it's just as important as the last, made her feel until she went without it. That's probably why she gets into the van without further argument and buckles her seat belt obediently.
It isn't until she maneuvers out onto the road that Beatrice boldly takes a hand off the wheel and laces her fingers together with Ava's, briefly squeezing as if to check again that she's really here.
"I'll teach you how to drive," Beatrice promises. "Preferably somewhere where there aren't many cars, buildings, or people."