Powerless: Aeos Book One

by Sarah Anne Fields

  “But the Union is not without pity. James, if you agree to take full responsibility for the crimes you and your wife have committed…” He trailed off and looked to Kellis for assistance, but Kellis simply shook his head. He sighed and paced back and forth once before finally continuing. “If you take full responsibility, your wife will be acquitted. But you, James…you’ll be put to death.”

  A chorus of voices rang out, and Kellis yelled for everyone to contain themselves.

  Detrick was impressed with how calmly his father had been able to deliver such terrible news. This was the first time he’d ever really seen or heard his dad in action. Maybe he could’ve stood to learn something from him all those years back at the Citadel, after all. His mother, on the other hand…she was never a take-charge kind of woman. She did the bare minimum asked of her and let Owen take the lead on most things in their life. Detrick knew she wasn’t cut out for this kind of work, but she had no other option. The good news was that the Union seemed alright with this. As long as their objectives were met, they were satisfied.

  James rose to his feet. “You stand here in my house, my house, and you expect me to follow through with this asinine plot to end my life? Just so you can satisfy your sick need for loyalty? That’s outrageous, and I won’t do it!”

  Both paladins placed their hands on the guns in their holsters, and Kellis had to raise his hand to stop them. “Morley, you don’t have a voice here. You forfeited your right to life when you started speaking out against the Union. It’s quite simple—if you do not comply, your entire family will be put to death for treason. Your only choice here is who gets to live and who gets to die. We’re giving you a week to decide which path you’ll follow, and with that, we’re being more than generous. We’ll reconvene here in your home to hear your decision.”

  Rebecca now stood up, but instead of responding to Kellis’ lecture, she turned to Detrick’s dad, who had backed toward the couch Detrick was sitting on. “You. Are you a husband? A father?” She looked briefly at Detrick, perhaps realizing that they were related.

  “I am,” he said.

  “How dare you call yourself anything even resembling the word,” she said, her voice panicky with desperation. “You parade around, threatening death upon innocent people. You’re nothing but a glorified street thug, and I pray to Lilith your family shuts you out.”

  Detrick was ready to put Rebecca in her place for that little comment. His father was no street thug; he was a man doing what was commanded of him in order to protect his family. He sat up straighter and was about to open his mouth, but Kellis spoke first.

  “Sit down immediately, Rebecca,” he sternly warned, his temper clearly on the rise. “You know exactly who you’re dealing with here, so I strongly suggest you choose your words carefully. Are we clear?”

  “Absolutely not!” she shouted in reply.

  James grabbed his wife by the shoulders and pleaded with her to take a seat, but she refused. Kellis motioned toward the paladin, and they promptly bound and gagged Rebecca, though not without difficulty.

  “Just one question,” James said harshly. “How are you going to convince everyone that I’m at the head of the Coalition? Don’t you know who I am? There are hundreds of people in this town, and they hear me speak every week, bringing them Lilith’s words. Never in a million years will they believe I’m guilty of such treason.”

  “Oh, no.” Kellis laughed. “We aren’t saying anything to the public. That will be your job. You’ll be confessing publicly. A confession is all they’ll need to know that this is real.” He buttoned up his trench coat. “We’ll be taking our leave for now, but we’ll return in seven days’ time to hear your decision. Lilith keep you.” And with that, Kellis and the paladins turned to leave. Detrick wasn’t far behind, long past ready to leave that house, and his dad followed.

  Once they were all outside, Detrick heard James clear his throat behind them. He and his dad turned around, while Kellis and the paladins were loading back into the black sedan parked under a large tree.

  “Yes?” Detrick’s dad asked.

  “I feel like I should tell you, Owen. You’re just as disposable to the Union as I am.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Is this your son?”

  “Yes.” He and Detrick looked at each other.

  “Ah. Well then, we both owe the Union a favor, don’t we?”

  Uh, what? What in Aeos was James talking about?

  Detrick’s dad stammered. “You—you’re out of your mind.”

  “Hardly.” James laughed complacently. “You just enjoy yourself while you’re destroying my family, because eventually, you’ll get what’s coming to you. No one gets out alive. Goodnight.” With that, James slammed the door shut.

  * * *

  Naturally, Detrick tried questioning his father on the peculiar thing James had said the night before. What kind of a favor was he talking about? Or was he just trying to get a rise out of them?

  “The man has essentially been backed into a corner, Detrick,” his dad started.

  “He’s going to say anything and everything he can to distance himself from us. You can’t buy into it. Just keep that in mind, alright?”

  Detrick wasn’t sure he believed that explanation. The words bore a closer resemblance to a last-minute defense than an actual explanation. After all, why would James take the time to speak one-on-one with a man who sought to have him killed?

  James seemed to be privy to something that Detrick wasn’t. And he couldn’t help but wonder—should he try to confront James about it?

  CHAPTER 7

  ACQUIESCENCE

  Kellis arrived at the Lismore home early the next morning to prep the trio some more for the coming months. After a brief conversation though, Detrick was informed that he needed to leave the house for a few hours. Apparently, there were things about this process that he wasn’t to be part of, or even aware of. He left the house reluctantly, feeling insulted. Was he being treated like this because of his age? Because they thought he’d be a risk? The speculation clouded his mind.

  After pacing up and down the shore of the beach for the better part of the morning, Detrick decided to go see if the town choir was practicing. He could do with some relaxing music right about now.

  He walked through town and toward the Temple with his eyes fixed ahead.

  “Detrick?”

  Detrick swung his head around instinctively, not even realizing the source of the greeting. He inhaled sharply at the sight. “Conner, hey! I—I mean—long time, no see. What’s up?”

  “You just get back into town?” Conner asked, balancing a couple of paper bags of groceries in his arms. Conner was definitely shorter than Detrick, by almost a head. His skin was much darker than Detrick remembered from childhood; Conner must be getting a lot of sun these days. He almost matched Detrick’s deep olive skin tone—the Lismores were descended from the inhabitants of the Nean Islands way down south.

  “Yeah, still getting settled. We’re back in the old house. How’ve you been?” Detrick asked, finally turning his body around.

  “Good, man. I’d love to come by and say hi to your folks after I drop these groceries off.”

  “Oh! I think…I think they’re busy right now,” Detrick said, far too quickly.

  Conner looked disappointed.

  “Because they’re still unpacking, I mean. You know how it is.” They’d finished unpacking over a week ago, of course, but it was the first excuse Detrick could think of at a moment’s notice.

  “Oh, okay. Another time, then. But if you’re not busy, you should come by the shop and say hi to Mom and Gavin.”

  Words of agreement flew out of Detrick’s mouth before he realized it, as well as an offer to help Conner carry his grocery bags, and then the two of them exchanged small talk while they made for the shop.

  This seemed surreal. As they walked, Detrick felt immediately transported back to childhood. Was he really here, helping Conner Wickl
ow carry groceries? What was more, Conner didn’t seem stricken by their five-year hiatus in the least. He was being his usual outgoing and friendly self, and Detrick instantly felt silly for being afraid to approach Conner before. This was exactly why he’d been drawn to Conner as a kid. The guy had a way of making a person feel like they mattered, like he’d rather be nowhere else except with that person, and it showed in every feature of his face. There was a strange, yet distantly familiar feeling creeping up inside Detrick.

  He was still processing the situation when they entered Timberworks. Conner’s mom, Gwenith, was behind the counter. She looked exactly as Detrick remembered her, except her very short, dark-blond hair was now slightly graying.

  “Look who’s back!” Conner said happily, gesturing dramatically toward Detrick.

  “Hey, you! I didn’t know you were back in town! How’ve you been adjusting?”

  “Pretty well, Miss Wicklow. It’s great to be in the shop again.” He glanced around and inhaled deeply, drawing the rich aromas of the wood into his lungs.

  “Well, it’s so great to have you back. Please let me know if you or your parents need any help getting settled. Oh! I know,” Gwenith said, kneeling down behind the counter. She arose with an ornately carved serving bowl that bore a gold-accented pinecone pattern. She handed it to Detrick, who accepted it gratefully. “Consider it a welcome home gift.”

  “Wow, thank you. My parents will be very grateful.” He turned the bowl over in his hands, still admiring it.

  “Where’s Gavin?” Conner asked.

  “He’s over at The Weary Traveler helping Mirina repair a couple of barstools.”

  “Oh, okay. Mirina is Gavin’s girlfriend,” Conner said to Detrick. “We think they’re gonna ‘light the candle’ pretty soon. They’ve been together for, what, three years now?”

  “About three, yes,” Gwenith said, wiping down the counter.

  Conner waved to his mom, and he and Detrick disappeared behind the curtain that revealed the stairs leading to the Wicklow house.

  Detrick took in the house as he entered through the door. It felt like he’d just been here yesterday. Crossing the living area, he peered down at the town from the window. It was a very familiar perspective, and yet one he’d completely forgotten about until this moment. He turned and saw the cast iron stove in the right corner, where he and Conner would sit on the floor and try to build the highest tower of cards they could before it crumbled. He turned left and entered the kitchen, where he’d enjoyed so much of Gwenith’s cooking. He and Conner set their bags on the kitchen island.

  A few moments of silence passed while they were unloading the bags.

  “So I have a question,” Conner said as the two were putting food away. “Where did you guys move to for so long?”

  “We had to move to the Citadel. Mom and Dad were doing work with the farms there. Apparently, they had a thing or two they could teach them about how to grow apples.”

  “Oh, wow. Figures the Union would force you all to move hours away just because they can’t do their own damn jobs.”

  Detrick raised an eyebrow at this.

  “So that’s what your parents did—what did you do all that time?”

  “Oh. I, uh, I got to go to school, actually. You would have liked it. Lots of history.” Detrick told Conner a few things about his experience going to school. Noting Conner’s earlier comment though, he left out a major detail: his internship under Victoria Amos. Conner seemed to harbor some animosity toward the Union, and Detrick felt it was too soon to address the issue. If a later opportunity arose, perhaps they could discuss it.

  “Yeah. A privilege reserved for residents of certain Aeosians only. Who knew geography was the defining factor in whether someone gets to attend school?” He laughed haughtily at his own observation.

  Detrick paused from unloading the grocery bag. “What was I supposed to do, not go?”

  Conner sighed. “No, of course not. It’s just…this is the perfect example of why I detest the Union.”

  “You what?” Detrick said, his eyes wide. Apparently the opportunity had arisen. “That’s heresy, Conner. What if a paladin heard you talking like this?”

  “Come on, Detrick. I don’t let them tell me what to do. And you shouldn’t either. The Union is beyond corrupt.” Conner had insulted Detrick without even knowing it, but Detrick still couldn’t help but take it personally.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked quietly, leaning forward on the counter. He did a quick glance around the kitchen to make sure no windows were open, on the off-chance someone below could hear them. The noise from the street would have drowned it all out, but Detrick didn’t want to take that chance.

  “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up. We’ve just been dealing with…some stuff lately.” Conner planted his hands on the counter and stared down at it. Though his face was partially covered by his hair, Detrick could see that his brow was furrowed.

  “Do you…want to talk about it?” Detrick asked delicately.

  Conner shook his head. “Maybe another time.”

  Detrick couldn’t shake the awkward tension that had formed between them. Why had Conner been so forward about his dislike of the Union? His demeanor had completely shifted. What was bothering him? What kind of “stuff” was he dealing with?

  They worked in silence until Detrick changed the subject to something lighter. “So, what are these for?” he asked, holding up a can of peas and then setting it down into the cupboard overhead.

  “Just followed the list,” Conner replied with a shrug.

  “Do you want me to leave? I don’t want to bother you if you’re upset.”

  “No, of course not. I’m sorry I got so worked up. You should stay.” Conner paused for a moment. “I’ll even let you put the peas away.” He reached into the cupboard to retrieve the can and tossed it to Detrick. He caught it and began to feel better about staying. His tension melted away.

  They joked back and forth a bit, and after they finished up in the kitchen, Conner offered to show Detrick around the rest of the house.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in here,” Detrick reminisced as the two turned down the hallway off the kitchen. “Oh look, it’s your room! Ha!” Detrick peered inside. Though it was a little different than the last time he’d seen it, it still felt good to see it again. It was the site of many memorable sleepovers, and the headquarters for their secret discussions of building the world’s largest tree fort. “Well, at least the view out the window hasn’t changed,” Detrick said cheerfully as he stood at the window, recalling memories of playing in the forest out back.

  Conner joined Detrick in sharing the view and cast a glance at him.

  When Conner’s eyes met his, a memory flashed in Detrick’s mind. Things had gotten weird during one of their last sleepovers as kids, and Detrick hadn’t thought about it in years. When he and Conner were twelve and eleven respectively, they’d built a fort of branches and stones in the forest behind Conner’s house. It had taken a week to build. There was an entryway, a small hallway, and a main room, complete with a tree stump throne—some of the bark remained on the back of it, giving it the appearance of a chair. The throne belonged to Detrick, for he’d been crowned Supreme Ruler of Aeos, and Conner had agreed to be his servant.

  One evening, after Conner had delivered Detrick his Royal Dinner of a turkey sandwich and peach slices, Conner had decided to rise up and revolt against him. He’d rushed Detrick as he ate and began trying to steal Detrick’s food from him. It had quickly turned into a comical food fight, which had transformed the throne room into an uninhabitable shambles. But Detrick hadn’t cared—he and Conner had both been laughing so hard by the end of it that he’d forgotten about eating altogether.

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry for stealing your food,” Conner had said, taking in the aftermath of the food-driven insurgency.

  “Stealing it?” Detrick had laughed. “You didn’t steal it—you decora
ted with it!”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Conner had said. “How do you want me to make it up to you?”

  “Hmm,” Detrick had said, pulling bread from his hair. “Okay, here’s what you have to do. First, clean up this mess. Second, get me a new sandwich—and I guess you can have one too. And third…you have to kiss me—I mean, my hand! You have to kiss my hand.” Then Detrick had felt more embarrassed than he ever had in his life. Because he’d thought of kissing Conner before but hadn’t known what to make of it. He’d brushed it off as mere curiosity.

  “Kiss you? Like, on the lips?”

  “No, dummy! I meant kiss my hand. It’s what you’re supposed to do for kings.”

  “Nope. You said kiss you,” Conner said with an impish smile on his face. And then he’d kissed Detrick on the cheek. “There. That’s in between both. Sort of.”

  Detrick had touched his hand to his cheek in surprise. “You…you didn’t really have to do that, you know. I was just kidding.” Had Conner really just done that? He didn’t know how he felt about it, but truth be told, he’d kind of liked it. And then King Detrick had returned. “Now, go get me a new sandwich.”

  Detrick stepped away from the window and took a seat on Conner’s bed, leaned back and stared at the ceiling. He wanted to banish that awkward flashback from his mind, so he quickly tried to think of another one. “So do you still have contests with yourself to see how high you can count?” He’d managed to recall a time when they were very young where the two had stayed up until the early hours of the morning engaged in a high-stakes counting contest.

  “Not lately.” He headed to the closet and began rummaging around inside. Detrick sat up, his interest piqued. “Remember this guy?” Conner pulled out a stuffed fox and tossed it at Detrick.

  He caught it and laughed as he looked it over. “He’s really taken a beating. What did we call him? I can’t remember.”