by Tom Abrahams
Branch glared at Zeke with electric blue eyes.
“That’s it,” Branch growled. “Enough of this. I’m done playing.”
The pirate stood as Zeke pulled the trigger a third time, sending his final round toward its target. This time, Branch raised the sword and blocked the pulse of energy with the blade.
Zeke didn’t have time to react as the pulse deflected back and hit him with enough force to send him flying. He slapped into the side of the dead snake-beast and slumped to the ground.
Next to him, curled into a ball and trying to hide, he noticed a small girl.
“Anaxi?” he asked.
Her eyes met his and he saw the slightest nod. It was her. She was alive. She was here. He could save her.
Zeke holstered his gun and slid across the floor, staying low in the shadows cast by the dead snake’s form. He moved close to the girl but didn’t touch her.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. Get the mirror.”
Zeke wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. Beyond his line of sight, he could hear Uriel and Phil giving the pirate their best. Blue light strobed above them.
“The mirror?”
Anaxi nodded and inched toward him. “There’s a mirror on the pedestal. Show it to him. Show him his reflection.”
Zeke didn’t understand the point of it, but he didn’t argue. He rose to a squat and searched for the mirror. He saw it to his right, though it was larger than expected. A full-length mirror.
He quickly crept to the pedestal, staying low. As he reached toward the mirror, a hand shot from the shadows and grabbed his arm. Zeke spun to see a frightened man cowering in the dark.
“This is not what I wanted,” he pled. “Help me stop him.”
Zeke didn’t know who the man was. It didn’t matter. He ripped the man’s hand from his arm and instructed him, “Take that side. I’ll get this side. We need to show it to Branch. Okay?”
The man nodded his understanding and stood to help with the mirror. Together, they lifted it from the pedestal and moved toward the sound of the fight.
Phil was on the ground, clutching his chest. Uriel had her hands raised above her head in surrender. Branch had her at the end of his sword. He appeared ready to strike. But as he pulled back the blade before driving it forward, Zeke called to him, “Desmond Branch! Look here.”
The pirate paused and turned. Over his shoulder, he spotted the mirror. His expression shifted from brutal determination to something else, something akin to naïve confusion. He twisted his body to face the reflection and lowered his sword. He stepped toward it now, spellbound. His lips moved, whispering something Zeke couldn’t hear.
His head tilted to one side as he walked toward the glass. He extended his free hand as if to touch his reflection. The world appeared to dissolve around him as he stepped closer and closer. Then he stood, motionless, in front of the glass. Tears welled in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. He said nothing as his chin quivered.
The sword fell from his grasp. It clattered to the stone floor as the girl, Anaxi, appeared from the shadows. In one fluid motion, she picked up the weapon and drove its sharp end upward into Desmond Branch. The blade sliced through his gut and out his back. She’d put so much force into the blow, she fell to her own knees, unable to maintain her grip.
Branch staggered backward, tears cleaning his soiled face in streaks. Like a fish out of water, he tried for air but found none. He sank to the ground and dropped forward onto the sword, further impaling himself.
Zeke released the mirror and dashed to the pirate. He kicked him over and used his boot for leverage as he pulled the sword from his stomach. The pirate didn’t move. He was dead.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
They stood at the mouth of the cave. Sunlight bore down on them. The heat of the day was more oppressive than when they’d descended into the dark.
Anaxi looked smaller here. Like a girl. She hadn’t spoken during the ascent into daylight. Now her voice was shaky. “Who are you people? Why are you here? Did you come for the sword? Are you pirates? Why—”
“We were friends of your father.”
She looked at him dubiously. “My father? How is that possible? I’ve never seen you before. I don’t know you. Prove it.”
For someone so quiet during the ascent, she had endless questions.
Zeke nodded. “His name was Lucius. He was a good man. Loved you. He died trying to protect you from Desmond Branch. Instead, he endangered you.”
Anaxi had nothing to say. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She curled her lips inward, pressing them between her teeth.
“It was our job to protect you if he couldn’t. We tried to stop Branch on your island but got there too late. So we chased you.”
Her expression shifted from sadness to confusion. Anaxi regarded each of them. “You knew how to find me?”
Zeke checked with Uriel then said, “We had guidance.”
The man who’d lunged at Branch and hit his head struggled from the caves. He sank to a knee and put a hand to his head.
Anaxi put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’ve had worse.”
Zeke turned to Anaxi. His expression was oddly peaceful and tortured at the same time.
Zeke watched him for what seemed like eternity, waiting for something else bad to happen. When nothing did, he turned to Anaxi.
“What did the pirate see in the mirror?” he asked.
She shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just knew he had to see his own reflection. It’s in the poem. Only the worthy can survive their own reflection. He wasn’t worthy.”
Zeke helped the girl to her feet with his free hand. She swiped the hair from her eyes.
“But you were,” Zeke said. “You were worthy. That’s how you knew how to find it.”
She nodded. “The sword belonged to my mother.”
“Your mother?” Zeke said, incredulous.
“She left when I was young. I never knew her. But my father told me stories about her. Made me memorize the poems she’d taught him. She said that one day I would be ready to find it. That when the balance was just so, someone would take me to find it. But she told my father not to let them do it. That he should do everything in his power to keep me from the sword.”
“Who was your mother?”
Anaxi shrugged again. “All I know about her is that her name was Josephine.”
Zeke stepped back from the girl. He bumped into Uriel, who stood behind him now. He wanted to tell the girl about her father. He wanted to explain how much he’d sacrificed to keep her safe, to rescue her from the clutches of Desmond Branch. He couldn’t. He didn’t.
“Josephine,” said Uriel. “That makes sense.”
Anaxi’s face brightened. “You know my mother?” she asked. “Where is she?”
Uriel shook her head. “We don’t know her. We know of her. And we don’t know where she is.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” said Anaxi.
Zeke chuckled at that. “Get used to it. Nobody answers questions where we’re from.”
Anaxi scratched her head. She was processing the information, the lack of it.
Then she spoke. “What now? Where do I go? What do I do?”
Uriel stepped toward the girl. “What do you want to do?”
She considered this, biting her lower lip. Then she motioned toward the cowering man who’d held the mirror. “I want to take Le Grand and sail the endless sea. I want a ship. I want him to pilot it. I want to spend my life exploring, meeting people, helping them, making them happy.”
Zeke checked the man over his shoulder. “Le Grand?”
Anaxi nodded to the man on his knee. “Pierre Le Grand. He tried to be Branch’s conscience. I think he’s a good man deep down. But he’s a follower who needs a good leader.”
Le Grand offered a weak smile. “I’d like that. If she’d have me. I’ve done bad
things. I’m not sure I deserve a second chance.”
Zeke reached out and put a hand on Le Grand’s shoulder. “We all deserve a second chance.”
“What about the Saladin?” Anaxi asked. “Can I have it?”
Zeke and Uriel exchanged glances. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”
He looked around the space, searching for Phil. He didn’t see him. The Watcher was gone. Likely back at the bar. Playing cards. Throwing darts.
Zeke frowned at Uriel. “Phil didn’t make it?”
She shook her head. “A lot of casualties on this one. But you did it, Zeke. You succeeded. Now hand me the sword.”
“Why do you get it?”
“It belongs in the hands of a woman.”
Anaxi smiled for the first time. “Don’t look at me. I don’t want it. Nobody should have this much power.”
Zeke thought her reasoning was why the girl should have the sword. But he knew that was impossible. He handed it to Uriel. She took it and tested its weight.
“Not bad,” she said. “Balanced.”
Zeke smiled. “As it should be.”
Hours later, Uriel tossed a line across and climbed onto the sailing ship to hold the two together. Zeke powered off the yacht and moved toward the aft deck. Le Grand and Anaxi were already there.
She saw Zeke and her face lit up with excitement. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know how you did it. But thank you.”
“We owed you this,” said Zeke. “You deserve a happy ending. You’ve been through a lot. And maybe on your journey you’ll find what it is you’re looking for.”
She nodded. “Instead of what someone else is trying to find?”
Zeke put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Exactly.”
Together the three of them climbed aboard the Saladin. Uriel held the rope as they said their goodbyes.
“Hey, Anaxi,” said Zeke. “Are you sure you didn’t see Branch’s reflection in the mirror?”
“I didn’t,” she answered.
“Neither did I,” said Le Grand.
Uriel interjected, “I saw it. I can’t believe nobody thought to ask me.”
Zeke sighed. “Are you going to tell us?”
She wrapped the line around her hand and held it taut. “He saw himself. But not who he was. He saw who he could have been had he taken a different path. The mirror showed him the good he could have been, the good he could have done. I don’t think it sat well with him.”
Zeke muttered, “Valor. Wisdom. Benevolence. The three virtues.”
“What?” asked Anaxi. “What did you say?”
Zeke saw the recognition in her eyes. She’d heard it before. From her father, no doubt. The same person who’d told him in the minutes before he died a second time.
Zeke smiled. He shook his head. “Nothing. I was just thinking about it. That’s all.”
Anaxi stared at him for another moment before giving up. “Okay. I just thought I heard you say something my dad used to tell me.”
“Huh,” said Zeke. “That’s a coincidence.”
Uriel shot him a nasty glare. Zeke bit his lip.
“Now,” he said, turning to Anaxi. “Do good. Be good. Find a balance. Make the world the place you want it to be.”
“I’ll do that,” she said.
Anaxi turned away, leading Le Grand toward the helm. Saying nothing, Zeke and Uriel climbed back into the yacht. She pulled the line. The vessels separated.
Zeke stood on the back deck of the yacht, watching the sun set on the endless sea as the Saladin’s mainsail climbed its center mast and billowed with a gust of wind. Mission complete.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The ice was slick underneath Zeke’s boots. He slid on it, waving his arms to keep his balance. His hips jerked forward and back. For a split second he thought he was going down, but he recovered and took a confident stride away from the bar.
The ice and snow blanketed the earth in all directions. The bright sun bounced off the reflective surface, which forced Zeke to squint. They’d only just returned from his mission to find this new wasteland made of frozen water surrounding the bar. He much preferred the melted kind.
He hadn’t even had time to unwind, enjoy the warm indoors, and maybe check in on Li before Uriel led him from the bar, insisting there was some sort of mandatory Watcher ceremony they had to attend called an Ascension. All these rules, and the lack of answers to any of his lingering questions, began to drive him mad.
Uriel walked beside him along the bar’s porch, her arm laced in his. “It’s not that complicated. I promise,” she said.
“So explain it to me,” he replied. “In plain English.”
“This is an Ascension. It’s both an end and a beginning. Gabe has earned both. He’s done what Pedro asked of him countless times, and this is his reward.”
“Does this happen for every Watcher?”
She slipped on the ice and caught herself by tightening her hold on Zeke’s arm. He stopped and put a hand on her hip to brace her. They locked eyes for a moment beyond what was comfortable.
“No,” she said. “Not every Watcher earns an Ascension.”
“What happens to those who don’t?”
They started walking again. She held his bicep.
“You mean, do we ever run out of chances to redeem ourselves?”
In the distance, facing the bar, the Horde gathered in bunches along the slope of a broad drift. Black mangy dogs strained against the harnesses that strapped them to sleds. Some barked. Their growling voices carried in the cold dry air, ricocheting off the crusty ground with the sunlight.
The Horde was otherwise silent. Their relentless watch was unfazed by the swirls of bone-chilling winds that swept across the drift, blowing ground cover into the air in swirls. It appeared as though it was snowing around them. The sky above was blue and cloudless.
Uriel nodded. “Yes. Happens all the time.”
Zeke wasn’t sure what to make of that or how to respond. Instead, he faked a smile and focused on their new environment.
This was the homeland of the most recent arrival, whoever that was. And wherever it was, Zeke knew he’d learn soon enough.
Most of the Watchers were in line already. They’d taken their prescribed places and awaited the start of the proceedings. Others walked behind Zeke. They were stragglers who’d not wanted to leave a good hand at the table or miss the final chorus of a good song on the jukebox. All of them had finished their drinks hours earlier. Pedro had stopped serving before Zeke and Uriel got back. He’d even closed a newly constructed indoor swimming pool, which Zeke had been excited to try, considering his newfound love of the sea.
The dais was closest to the bar’s porch. On it, a quintet of marble columns gave the stage its heft. The columns were fluted and rose five meters into the air. They glistened with ice, sparkling almost as if twinkling lights decorated the veined stone.
In front of the columns was a lectern. Or was it an altar? Zeke wasn’t sure. There were no chairs or stools. Those on the dais stood awaiting the start of the ceremony.
Pedro stood with Gabe. Both of them wore long white gowns. The pleated garments blended with the surroundings, giving the appearance that their heads floated separate from their bodies. The robes were tied at the waist with golden cords from which long tassels hung. Both men appeared as serious as Zeke had seen. They held their chins up, their chests out. Both men had their hands at their sides.
In front of the dais, facing it, was the audience, the witnesses. The senior Watchers stood up front. Uriel led Zeke to the second row. Phil was on the first already.
Uriel let go of Zeke’s arm but squeezed his hand affectionately. “Thank you for the escort, handsome. But you’re back there.”
Phil turned around and chuckled. He nudged the Watcher next to him, a tall straw-haired man with a strong jaw named Barach.
Zeke’s face flushed. Uriel flashed a devilish grin, evidently taking pleasure in his adolescent embarras
sment. Then she took her spot and Zeke continued on to find his spot in the back alone.
He was on the second-to-last row, and as he walked up, a familiar face awaited him. Li smiled.
“Hey, Zeke,” she said sweetly. Like nothing about this was weird and he was coming home from a day of smuggling to their old apartment.
He said nothing and returned what he imagined was a goofy half smile. He hadn’t been expecting to see her outside her room, and it made his heart skip a beat.
Once he took his position, a full view of the stage blocked by the heads of senior Watchers, Li touched his pinkie with hers. She tickled it up and down, a sign of affection that, again, took him off guard.
He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t reciprocate.
Things were complicated. Even in this afterlife. Or real life. Or one of many versions of a life. Zeke didn’t know what lay ahead. In this moment, it didn’t matter. He was where he needed to be. More importantly, he was where he belonged. That was a truth Ezekiel Watson wasn’t sure he’d ever know.
He searched the front of the assembly for a glimpse of Uriel. What he found was Barach staring back at him. The herculean Watcher flashed a smile at him. Or was it at Li? At that moment, she released his finger.
Zeke faced her and she averted her eyes. It was clear. She pretended not to be looking at Barach, but the hint of a smile remained on her face.
He looked back at Barach, who’d turned back around to face the dais. But now, Uriel faced him. She blew him a kiss. Li took his finger again.
Rescuing him from the awkward discomfort of this confusing new development, a hand touched his shoulder from behind.
“Thank you for what you did,” Lucius Mander said. “I’m grateful. If I can ever repay you—”
Zeke held up a hand. “No repayment needed. At least not to me.”
Lucius bowed his head in respect. He clasped his hands in front of him.
From the corner of Zeke’s vision, he noticed the Horde. The true Harbingers of Death. They were motionless as if offering the same deferential reverence as the Watchers.
