Praetorian Rising

by J. McSpadden

  "Are we going to do this or not?" Charlie asked, coming up behind Theo, her smile dazzling with white brilliance as she held up two nasty looking daggers in either hand.

  Theo stared at Camille with deliberate eyes that made her heart skip a painful beat before he turned on his heel and marched out of the room. "Let's go!"

  Camille had no choice but to follow, telling her heart to slow down and get a grip. She hadn’t felt the heat of his fury sizzle over her skin as she had the night before, but Camille couldn't be sure if he'd forgiven her for everything she'd said. The fire blazing across his features when their eyes clashed was proof enough; there was an avalanche of emotion beneath the surface waiting to crush her.

  After two flights of stairs and one prolonged hand-crank elevator ride, the three of them were out in the open of the desolate village square. This time, Camille felt prepared: she wore her thick fur-lined vest to ward off the fall chill, a long-sleeve linen shirt, a heavy fur wrap that clasped at the neck with an elegant green and silver beetle pin, and thick green pants tucked into her favorite brown leather boots. With a sword at her side, a bow with metal-tipped arrows, and a hefty dagger sheathed against her hip, she felt more than prepared for battle.

  Theo led them west out of Romeo Village, before turning further north toward the outer edge of the town's barriers. Snow crunched loudly under their boots, each step like a gunshot piercing the bitter silence.

  Camille's breath snaked out of her mouth in jolts, blasting her cheeks with momentary heat before dispersing into the canopy of bare branches above their heads. The distance they were putting between themselves and the compound made her more than a little jumpy; it felt too far from the warm embrace of security. She kept glancing over her shoulder to gauge the amount of time it would take to sprint back, but soon realized she couldn't even see the tall towers of the outer village square through the thickness of the surrounding forest.

  It was strange to be enclosed by a landscape so familiar yet so foreign to her. Sierra Village had been warmer and filled with maples, oak, willow, and aspen trees. In Romeo Village, the air tasted crisp with notes of pine, burr oak, green ash, and hackberry, their branches weighed down with fresh snow or bare-limbed and draped in delicate ice. She felt caged inside a dome of endless white.

  "Are you sure it's a good idea to be out this far?" Camille asked as a gust of chilly air whipped her ears. She yanked back the heavy weight of her hair into a thick knot of loose curls on top of her head, not wanting the long strands to get in the way of her practice.

  "Yeah, it's fine. Acher told me this was the best place to spar and remain within view of the village. We'll be fine," Charlie assured her, walking several feet in front of her. The woman's long hair curled invitingly down the length of her back, swishing from side to side, the light brown highlights shimmering like honey against darker brown curls. It came to rest just where her waist dipped inward before her display of full hips. Camille tried not to feel the stab of jealousy in her gut but found it hard to press the emotion away. Charlie was so perfect in every way. It made Camille second guess herself, looking at her stature and physicality and seeing the vastness of her inadequacies. It gnawed at her, raking its sharp teeth against the tender lining of her confidence.

  They walked fifteen more minutes before Theo abruptly halted several feet in front of Camille and Charlie. "I think it'll work just fine," he said, gesturing to the slightly open area nestled between a wall of trees and a steep, rocky hillside.

  Charlie moved to the edge of the clearing and found a comfortable place to perch. Even in the frigid weather, her skin glowed golden, highlighting the yellow depths of her eyes and hair in the prettiest, most aggravating way.

  Does she have to be perfect all the time? Camille thought, rubbing absently at the run of snot slipping from her red-tipped, icy nose.

  Turning in circles away from the prim perfection of Charlie, Camille assessed their surroundings with a sharp hunter’s eye. "We're pretty far from the village. You sure Vesyon's okay with this?" Camille asked, glancing back toward the foggy trail they'd taken. She shivered with a prickling sense of warning, but Theo didn't seem to share her feelings of apprehension.

  "We'll be fine," he said with a confident shrug.

  It took everything Camille had not to punch the smugness right off his face, but instead of giving in to her immediate and more violent tendencies, she merely rolled her eyes and swore under her breath. "Fine then," she said, removing the day pack from her shoulders and tossing it on the ground.

  "I can take that for you," Charlie offered, taking a step toward Camille from her perched position.

  "I've got it—"

  "She's got it—"

  Both Praetorians stopped to glare at one another, Theo's stoic stance sparking with intrigue as Camille's facial muscles twitched with ire.

  "Fine—just thought I'd offer a hand," Charlie said with a slight tinge of exasperation. That made Camille smile; apparently, they were both feeling slightly perturbed with the events of the morning.

  Everything slowed to a slug's pace as her bow slipped from her grasp, warning bells pinging through every cell of her body. Before she could process her Praetorian reaction, Camille grasped the dagger looped on her belt and her sword attached at the hip, ready before the bow even hit the ground. Her entire body tensed for action, eyes homing in on the target: Theo, who was charging at her with black eyes sparkling with vicious intent.

  He was all muscle and force where Camille was grace and sophistication. Her shuffling side steps and casual leaps barely made a sound, each step dominated with pristine precision. Theo swept a leg out to take Camille down, but she rolled into a backward flip as though planned. The longer they fought, the more their tango became a graceful dance of war: a dirty, sweat-riddled battle of the best.

  "Looks like you remember all right," Theo barked, finding his footing in the cold ground as he deflected Camille's forward slash.

  "Such a tone of surprise," Camille shot back, raising her sword again as her legs coiled in preparation.

  Their eyes continued to darken with each missed blow, the black spreading further up their foreheads and down their cheeks. Camille no longer looked like an Asperian; she radiated fierce dominance and rage and wasn't slowing down in the least.

  "You're starting to resemble a real Praetorian," Theo said, angling his chin toward her face.

  "Stop trying to distract me," Camille replied, spinning away from his blade as it sliced through the air in front of her nose.

  He echoed her movement, bringing his sword against Camille's to form a "T."

  "No—what I meant is that you look like you," Theo said longingly. He removed a hand from the sword's leather grip with ease to caress Camille's neck. "Don't you feel it? You trust your senses, even if you don't remember. I'm begging you, please, open your eyes to me."

  "My eyes are open!" Camille spat through her clenched jaw, wrenching away from Theo's grasp. She glanced at Charlie, who didn't appear to have heard their conversation even though her eyes were glued to Theo's every move. "Why can't you just let it go, let me just be me?"

  "Because you aren't you, not the girl I remember! I won't just let it go, Cam, I need to see her again. That girl you were, the girl I fell in love with. How's it possible in the deepest depths of your heart that you don't remember me?" Theo continued, unaware of the effect he was having on her.

  Her stomach tied itself in a series of knots, and it felt impossible to move, to take a step away from his intoxicating proximity.

  "Did they take so much of your memory away that I'm no longer there?" Theo continued.

  The gentleness of his tone struck a chord in her chest, blinding her with a memory she hadn't been prepared for. Deep in the recesses of her mind, she saw him: a very young boy chasing her through the whitewashed hallways of their childhood home. She felt the steadiness of his hand against her cheek as a young man, tasted the sweetness of his innocent kiss in the middle of the night. She
smelled musky pine, fresh and clean, as she nuzzled against his chest in the early dawn of the morning. She heard him whisper her nickname, "Cam, my Cam," as they fell asleep in each other's arms. A routine so well-traveled, moments so well known. His hands and face were a map of memories guiding her through an entire life spent by his side.

  Theo's bitterly cold fingers brushed against her cheek, and Camille slammed back to the present. "Cam, you okay?"

  No, she wasn't okay. A surge of emotions crashed down on her with force, and she could do nothing but push them solidly away. She was suffocating beneath them, desperately gasping for breath. The Praecollection exploded inside her mind, cracking through the barriers to spill into every corner of her consciousness. As much as she wanted to remember her past, this wasn't the way to do it. Forcing the decades of information through a narrow crack to the forefront of her memory was like trying to shove the entire five shores into one drinking cup. It wasn't just impossible, it was agonizing.

  "No, stop it!" she shouted, shoving Theo away. She gulped down cold air, begging for relief from the onslaught of memories hammering at her skull.

  "We can slow down, try this again," he said, hands raised in surrender.

  "I don't want to!" She charged him, desperate for a distraction, aching to flush out the memories surging through her body with physical exertion. She raised her sword and squared off for an attack.

  Theo responded, swiping his blade through the frosty air and barely missing Camille's neck. She staggered back, flinging a look of disbelief at her attacker.

  "I don't believe you," he said with a winking smirk. "Besides, I always get what I want."

  A slow and steady growl rumbled from the back of her throat as she regained her faculties, pulling her focus into order. She dipped away and went into a backflip, kicking Theo under the chin with one steel-toed boot. His neck snapped back violently, and he staggered a few yards back, while Camille landed gracefully on the balls of her feet.

  She pursued him, jamming a knee into his chest to send him sprawling to the icy ground. Retrieving her dagger, she held it to Theo's throat, knee pegging him in place. "As do I."

  Laughter bubbled from Theo's lips, and his eyes glittered with flecks of silver, azure, and cobalt as the swirl of black receded from his facial features. "That's my girl!"

  Camille cracked a small smile, the blade's edge balanced against Theo's throat a moment longer than necessary. "Shut up," she retorted, retracting her sword, though not caring enough to correct his demands of ownership.

  "And here I thought you'd be a little rusty!" Theo rolled into a sitting position and began wiping mud, leaves, and crusted snow from his backside. "Vee wasn't kidding when he said you've been training."

  "You both look as though you've done that before," Charlie spoke up from the tree line. Camille had completely forgotten she was there.

  "We used to, but it's been a while," Theo called. "Needed to see if she still had what it took."

  "Looks like she's more than prepared to hand it to you," Charlie replied with evident appreciation.

  Camille whipped around, starting with shock and surprise at the brunette's words. "Thanks, Charlie."

  "Well, you bested him in under five minutes, Camille. I think that deserves some acknowledgment," Charlie said, making her way over to them with a flip of her hair and an upward turn of her chin.

  Camille wasn't sure whether Charlie was impressed or just wanted to stick a thorn in Theo's side, pretending girl allegiance with Camille. Either way, it felt victorious.

  "I look forward to reconvening," Theo hissed while Charlie remained a considerable distance back. He glanced at Camille from beneath his lashes close enough for her to feel a rush of heat spark from their proximity.

  "Oh? To lose again?"

  He snorted, a sharp grunting noise emerging from the depths of his throat. "Not likely. But if sparring with me lets loose memories in the process," he said with a casual shrug, "then I wouldn't say no to this outcome every time."

  Ignoring him, Camille slid her blade back into her hip holster and made slow work of tucking away her dagger and righting her own clothing, slapping mud and crusted ice from her long white shirt sleeves. He took another step toward her, effectively turning his back on Charlie approaching them to keep their conversation private. "There's so much you don't know, so many things I want to tell you..." Theo trailed off, the words dying in his throat. The brilliance in his eyes flickered black as his head whipped toward the western tree line. Camille also tensed, a thick buzzing in the air like an electric current shooting through her bones.

  "Shiat, this can't be possible. I was told we had more time," Theo bit out harshly in Charlie's direction as she approached them, the black spilling like a river of ink beneath the surface of his skin. "You fed us false information!"

  "What are you talking about?" Charlie asked, stopping suddenly in shocked bewilderment.

  With his features flooding black and his sword in hand, Theo wasn't just a Praetorian, but a formidable warrior prepared for battle. "I'm talking about the horde of Chimera charging our direction! We're out here in the middle of nowhere. You said it'd be safe!"

  The wind whipped with building force against Camille's face and she smelled the familiar stench of Chimera mixed with the sharp, brisk crackle of an oncoming downpour. Overhead the sky darkened with bloated purple clouds, threatening to dump its entire contents straight onto their heads.

  "No, I didn't! I told you Lieutenant Acher gave me the approval!" Charlie shot back, her fists bunched at her sides in obvious annoyance of his accusation.

  Theo whirled away from her with a menacing snarl and pulled Camille closer to his side.

  "We shouldn't have come here," Camille said, voice shaking with apprehension.

  "Stick by me, Cam, as close as you can. If you see the King Regent though, you run and find Vesyon, do you hear me?"

  She began to shake her head in disagreement, but Theo gripped her upper arm and yanked her to his chest. Before she could process the warmth of his body enveloping her, he kissed her, his lips bruising hers with the fierce demand of his pressure. Pulling back to speak into her ear, Camille reeled, her body spinning. "Please, you must listen to me. I will not lose you again."

  "No," Camille replied fervently. "We can outrun them."

  She made to move back down the path they'd come, but Theo's hand snaked out, clamping Camille's wrist in a vice grip. "It's a little late for that, sweetheart," he said nudging his chin toward the trees just behind the rock Charlie had been perched on.

  A line of Chimera edged toward them, their footsteps silenced by the snow-covered terrain. Energy raged through Camille's system, setting her body on fire with anticipation.

  "Are you sure we can handle this? I'm down to run," Charlie said, drawing closer to the pair. She neither appeared afraid nor worried about the incoming attack. Despite a steady line of sweat breaking across her brow, the beads like spots of dew on a flower at dawn, she appeared formidable. For the first time, Camille saw the soldier in Charlie. She held her sword like it was a well-known friend, her grip solid yet at ease.

  Theo's boots crunched on the hardened snow as he drew his sword, moving a slight pace in front of Camille and Charlie. It was meant as a protective gesture, she knew that, but she proceeded to step beside him in kind. His attention flicked to her face for a mere moment, and she could swear his lips flickered with the hint of a smile.

  "Never doubt a Praetorian, Charlie. We were made for this," Theo said in a low warning growl. "But as an Asperian, you need to watch your bare skin. Don't get bitten—that's an order, soldier."

  "You have no authority to give me an order," Charlie snapped back.

  "Just don't get bitten Charlie, got it."

  She huffed an exaggerated breath before acknowledging his request.

  Camille's face warmed with blood, and she focused her Praetorian-enhanced vision to the forest. The beasts crept through the crosshatch of trees, their muscles bunc
hed and ready to pounce. They appeared slowly through the chilly mist one and then another, a slow wave of monsters dusted in snow edging toward the trio.

  Her gaze floated up toward the massive purple clouds and she cringed at their ominous appearance. It looked as though a million buckets of water hurtled toward them as the sky broke into a violent storm. The three of them were soaked in seconds.

  With one last glance at Theo, Camille adjusted her stance before peering into the distance toward the pack of monsters anxious to attack. There was a slight shift in the atmosphere—like the silence in the eye of a storm crackling with energy before breaking into complete chaos—and then the Chimera charged.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Green-Eyed Man

  "Brace yourself!" Theo bellowed over the sheets of water separating them. Nothing could have prepared her—Camille had never fought in such conditions against so many predators at once. Each step and turn were taken with as much care as she could manage, but it was difficult to focus her attention on the swift movements of the Chimera while maintaining her footing on the frozen ground.

  The monsters attacked randomly and in jerky motions, which was troublesome to fight yet easy to evade. Just as Camille was beginning to gain confidence in her strength, she stumbled over a jutting rock. Camille's body crashed to the icy ground, her arms lifting her sword just in time to slay a Chimera seconds before it clamped down on her bicep.

  "Ugh," Camille snorted when the dead Chimera slumped on top of her, covering her chest with blackish blood and gore. The weight of the beast pressed into her chest bone, making it difficult to breathe. She wiggled like a flopping fish out of the water, desperate to escape the insurmountable pressure.