Page 67 of Fire to the Stars

“Yes,” I confess. My safest plan of action—at least in front of Abel—is a degree of honesty.

Gérard throws his head back and laughs, then slams his fist on the table. Everything on it jumps. “You’re sick. Why not let the Gendarmerie take me? Do you get off on watching people count down the days until certain death or something?”

“No,” Abel sighs, but instead of the frustration I expect on his face, he sets his jaw and opens the journal. “I’m here to make you an offer.”

“An offer?”

I don’t realizeIwhispered that until Abel lifts his eyebrows at me. I clear my throat and set my shoulders, tugging at my ponytail.

He opens the journal and verbally translates the first entry: the one where he declares his intention to experiment on his brother.

Dread pools in my stomach.

Is that what this is about? Abel wants another test subject in his pursuit of a cure?

“Before I tell you my offer, I need you to understand that I tried everything I could think of to find a cure for my brother.” He makes a gesture at the blood-smeared pages. “Medicines, paralysis, even prayer. Anything that could remotely inform my experiments, I tried it. My attempts became so aimless and cruel, my brother begged me to slay him. Even then, I didn’t kill him. He died from exhaustion.”

“Sounds like you put in a lot of effort for nothing.” Gérard’s hopeless stare lands on me. “If you want me to be your new test subject just so I can keep breathing…”

My heart leaps painfully. Is he about to reveal me as an option?

Abel slams the journal shut.

“No more experiments,” he declares. “And no more arrests. Marshal Bard wants me to follow standard procedure and let the gendarmes deliver you to a dragon pit. I don’t want to do that any more than I want to sit back and watch Claire lie to you. It was wrong of me not to have been honest from the start.”

Gérard must be as stunned as I feel, because slowly, cautiously, he sits up in his chair. “What are you getting at?”

“On behalf of the Slayers Guild, I want to formally apologize for the creation of the culture that drove you to hide from us instead of seeking help.” Abel gestures to Hanna’s splayed notes. “Frankly, I don’t care what moral failings my fellow slayers see in you. About any dragon, for that matter. As far as I can tell, Diu’s idea of humanity’sgreediestindividuals is flawed.”

My jaw drops. A slayer just insulted Diu’s judgment.

“You’re a human being who didn’t ask for any of this,” hecontinues. “Just because you have to die doesn’t mean you should suffer for it.”

Gérard stammers. “So your offer…”

Abel tucks Hanna’s notes inside the journal and wraps it inside the waterproof canvas. “My offer is this: I’ll let you live your last days in freedom. I will order the Gendarmerie to keep their distance so long as you create an end-of-life plan with me.”

“An end-of-life plan?”

“To start, you’ll be free to say or write your goodbyes to any surviving loved ones. Second, you’ll decide the location of your death, so long as it is away from the general populace,” he explains. “Finally, I’ll give half of the bounty on your head to any person or charity you wish.”

“And on Ignition Day?” His voice hitches.

“I promise you the swift ending I should’ve given to my brother. You won’t feel a thing.”

Gérard laughs shakily. “You must be the only slayer crazy enough to think up these terms.”

Abel closes his eyes for a heartbeat. “For a long time since my brother died, I’ve struggled with how to handle my return to my career. No matter how kindly I treat my targets, it won’t change the outcome. All dragons must die.”

“Then why care how it happens?”

“Because cruelty is a choice.”

I share a look with Gérard but can’t maintain it for long. If I encourage him to delay his death with sleep powder, he’ll miss out on mercy, not punishment.

The sound of glass being swept into a dustpan fills the room for a short while.

“I killed Marie when I turned,” Gérard confesses, eyesglistening. “My sister. I’d taken her fishing for her birthday against our parents’ will. She loved the outdoors, not tea parties and frills.”