by Jen Greyson
He cups my chin and strokes my bottom lip with his thumb. “I only do what makes sense.” His low voice melts like chocolate across my body.
I know better than to ask him what makes sense right now, because the answer will be his body touching mine, his lips brushing mine apart, my fingers curling into the thick flesh of his arms. My heart pounds and I want him to kiss me so badly, to wrap me up in his arms and be my stronghold.
“Will you come?” His breath tickles my skin and I know I won’t be anywhere but at his side tonight—and every night while I’m here. Even as mere comrades, my need for him is overwhelming.
My lids flutter closed and he presses the pad of his thumb to my lips—a promise of kisses yet to come. His hand falls away and I recover. “Yes.”
He falters and neither one of us is sure what I answered to, but he takes a step away, honoring my own reservations about his engagement if they differ from the common thinking of his time, giving me one more reason to love him.
“The armory is this way.”
We follow the narrow path, now only flattened grass and not yet a fully packed dirt trail. The grass whispers against my soles and my mind wanders to Viriato, to the decade of fighting he’s about to inflict on these men. Will my arrival change that? If we encounter him and I have the chance to take the shot, should I or will collapse time because my future alteration is the one has to stand? This is so hard without a reliable guide.
Being the rogue hot-head was so much easier.
I’ve only seen the armory from the hallway and in passing. It’s impressive and they either put this room together first or not very long after arriving. It’s full to the brim with swords, shields, bows and arrows, with armor lining one entire wall.
He spreads his arms. “Take what you need.”
I head for the armor since I don’t want any of the weapons. The pieces make me miss Anna and the badass custom set she made for me. I rub my thumb across the scarred leather of a huge breastplate. These will have to work for now and I find a small set covers the important stuff.
“I apologize for the lack of sizing. I lost the man who crafted it for us. While I’ve managed to locate a new blacksmith to keep us in weapons, I have yet to find one to craft new armor.”
“Too bad you don’t know anyone personally.” Like Anna.
He chuckles. “The best seamstress I know is my sister. I doubt her fiancé would let her come to the battle lines. Nor would she prefer crafting armor to dresses.”
“When is her wedding?” I’m eager to know if she’s safely happy or if the plague has yet to come.
“Years yet before the nuptials, but they’ve been pledged for over two.”
“Oh.” Damn. Horror still waits for her on a future horizon. I sigh and have nothing more to say. I’ve laid the ground work, seeding the thought, so if needed, he’ll think to bring her here. Not he wouldn’t have anyway, but I felt compelled to say something. Maybe I’m missing Anna, but maybe these are the tiny alterations have to happen so she’ll come—like teaching him the Tai Chi. This time within a time is so tricky.
I touch the flat sections of a breastplate and find the smallest one. “Here,” Constantine says, lifting the armor up and spreading it so I can slip it on.
I duck my head and settle it on my shoulders while he tests the straps, tightening them until the leather fits snug. “Thanks.” I run my hands across my chest and down the sides, then jump up and down a few times, flexing my arms and moving them like I’m holding my bolts.
“Suitable?”
“Very.”
“The barbarians we fight here are farmers and ranchers. They fight in the most unorthodox manner and we’ve had to change our style, forgoing our helmets. Will you require one?”
“No. Definitely not. I’ll need to keep my vision clear so I don’t electrocute any of you.”
“Is it lethal in manner, then, similar to lightning from the sky?”
“Yes and no. I can make it be, but if I’d have hit you with it while we were sparring it would have knocked you on your ass.” And has.
He considers the statement, then tugs hard on a strap for my armor, pulling it loose. “I’m intrigued by your weapon.” His fingers deftly undo the rest but he’s not paying attention to the task—or to me—he’s lost in thought about what my lightning can do and probably thinking about how it can help us win this battle tonight.
With sure movements, he removes my armor and hands it to me, then we walk out and toward the training ground again. He’s in his deep thinking mode and I walk quietly beside him until he pauses. “I’m not sure my men can handle your lightning.”
I was ready for and came up with my own plan. “Bring them onto the field. Let’s train them. I’ll use my lightning sparingly, but we better make sure they’re not surprised by it.”
He waves a young boy over. I haven’t seen him here before, but he looks like Janus. “Tell your father to round up the men.”
He nods solemnly, taking Constantine’s command very seriously and scurrying away, legs and arms pumping furiously as he runs.
“Does your lightning transform in other ways?”
I grin. “Yeah, it’s pretty versatile.”
“Show me.”
“Are you sure you want to see all of it? I’ve only needed the whips in battle—the ones I used against you.”
“You’ve never been in this battle, how can you be certain a different form won’t be more prudent?”
Again, he’s managed to out-think me and my own weapon. “I guess I don’t.”
The men hurry around the corner in tight formation. The little boy’s found a dozen I didn’t know were here, so it’s nearly twenty stop in front of Constantine.
“Men,” he says, taking a step forward and using his most authoritative voice. “This is Evy. She’s come to aid us in the ways of warfare. Marcus sent her.”
Mumblings of appreciation filter through the group. A few stare, trying to see in me what Marcus did. I hope they don’t see through Constantine’s lie—even if it was the older him told it.
“She will accompany us into battle this night, but her weapon is not of this world. It is wise for you to see it now so it does not interfere with this eve.” He takes a step to the side and inclines his head like I’m supposed to give a presentation.
“All of them,” I ask him. “Or the one you’ve seen?”
“All.”
I clear my throat. “Okay, can you guys stand over there, then?” I point to the edge of the field.
They look to him for confirmation and he nods, then crosses his arms over his chest.
“You too.”
Begrudgingly, he retreats to stand with his men. I’m not sure what to show him first, so I turn and walk to the field's center so I can think about what will freak them out the least. I’m going to need a volunteer for yellow, and I can't use Constantine in case things go bad--he sure won't be a fan of mine if I erode the confidence his men have in him. Green will be tough without a lock and I know I won’t need in the middle of a heated fight, so I’ll show it to them and explain. I lift my head and scan the tree line, smiling at the trees we blew up with red, only young saplings now. I turn and face the men, thirty feet away.
They move closer together out of habit, ready to defend against whatever I’m about to unleash. I open my hands and my crackling, writhing ropes fall to the dirt, popping and snapping. I quiet them until they’re trembling quietly at my sides. The men are visibly shaken, but they pull it together like the soldiers Constantine’s trained them to be and they take a battle stance, widening their feet and spreading out so they curve forward, anticipating my next move. They probably don’t know they’ve done it, but they’re not the kind of men able to stand docilely while a weapon is bared right in front of them.
I take it slow, lifting one whip above my head and spinning it, then crack it to the ground at my side, churning up dirt.
A few of the men nod and relax.
I rotate
and lift my arms, drawing the whips upward until they cross and clash, sizzling as the power combines. They flare bright, then contract as I lower them. The lightning has never been good at being subdued and we begin to move faster together. I extend them twenty feet away, then retract them instantly, drawing another round of murmurs from my audience.
Constantine steps forward, sword readied. We work together and I don’t test him too hard in front of his men, careful to make him look good. The lightning flares and cracks as his blade crashes against it and we find an easy rhythm for a few minutes, then I drop a rope and motion for another man to come forward. He races in, eager to work against the lightning. “Spar with Constantine. I want to try something.”
He looks to his commander and Constantine nods, then the two men face off. I swirl a rope of lightning around the three of us and lift my arm, adding another coil on top of the first so it’s like a spring-shaped force field around us. They nervously move closer to each other, but only for a few thrusts, then they forget about the lightning and challenge each other, swinging their swords and pushing each other back. I move the lightning with them, forcing it to flex and bend around their bodies, keeping them protected from anything charging on the outside. Viriato’s men are fierce and we’ll need more than simple weapons tonight.
I wave two more men over and drop the coil around Constantine. The new pair steps into the ring and I lift it again, widening it to account for the additional bodies and movement. This time I don’t have to managed the shifting shape. It contracts and expands on its own, illuminating all of us in a silvery glow of protection. We continue to add teams until they’re all inside my circle. It’s huge and my shoulder gets crampy from holding it aloft so I have to change hands a lot, but it works. I have no idea when we’d need this in battle, but I suppose if they were all occupied with attackers and a new group approached, I could swing this around them and give them time to kill the guys on the inside. Whatever the application, I’ve learned something new about my lightning today and that’s never a bad thing.
I drop the rings and the men relax. Constantine steps forward quickly. “I told her my men would find no issue with her weapons.” He looks at each man, meeting his gaze with pride. “You fought well, and will again. Now rest and eat.”
Dismissed, they leave, nodding to me on the way.
I wait for them to leave and for Constantine to tell me why he changed his mind about showing off the other powers… but then I remember he doesn’t know about the colors and probably thought was all I could do. “Do you want to see the rest?”
“Yes. After you put the fear of Zeus in them, I thought perhaps I should have a private viewing of the others.”
I make a small ball of lightning and curl my fingers into it. “I didn’t think they were scared at all. They handled well—as well as you did.”
He scoffs and studies the ball, not nervous or wary of it. “You don’t know them as I do. That display of yours terrified them. No warrior of mine would have let on they were alarmed by a small woman, no matter her weapon.”
I roll my eyes and snuff the lightning. We’ll see how scary he thinks my weapons are… I make a golf-ball sized red one, then hurl it nonchalantly over my shoulder toward the tree line. He watches, hands on his hips, bored and misjudging the size of the weapon.
The tree incinerates and he blinks, then turns slowly toward me, eyes wide and filled with awe. “Show me the rest.”
We play with the colors until nearly sunset, then he forces me to rest for a few minutes before we leave. “Is all of them, then?” He ticks the colors off on his fingers. “Yellow, green, purple, red.”
“I’m sure there are more.” I frown and tip my head. It makes sense to me there’s more to each color we haven’t tested, especially yellow since it’s so peaceful compared to the violence of the others. “Actually, I want to try something with yellow.” I stand and offer him my hand. “One more test?”
He lets me pull him up and I take him to the tall wooden poles he loves to hack. I study their ten-foot height, hands on my hips. “Can you climb them?”
He frowns. “I have not tried, but most likely. Tell me your thoughts.”
I make a ball of yellow lightning and toss it over the top of one, like a rope. “I think there’s a way I could use this to hold on to someone—like if they were falling. I want to try.”
He scowls. “You’ve not attempted this before?”
“Nope.” I retract the rope until it’s a ball in my palm, then look up. “Scared?”
Scoffing, he hurries up pole. I’m impressed yet again at his dexterity and athleticism. If the lightning and the test work like I want them to, he won’t be quite so cocky when he comes back down. At the top, he teeters, but manages to balance on the narrow end. “Now what?”
“Catch.” I toss the lightning up and as expected, his footing falters and he slips. I flare the lightning and wrap it around both his waist and the pole but he’s too much weight and I can’t keep him upright. He dangles from the pole, then struggles against the rope, tipping forward and falling at an awkward angle. I spread my feet and lean back, slowing his descent, but I’m struggling. I tangle another bolt around him, stopping him before he faceplants. When he’s a foot off the ground, his arms fly out and he bursts from the lightning, covered in globs of it.
He wipes the residue and glares at me. “Fine test.”
I bite my lip. His anger isn’t very convincing with all the yellow bits clinging to his arms and clothes. “Here. Let me help.”
He jerks away. “You helped plenty, thank you.”
I bite my lip and shrug. “Sorry. But it did kinda work.”
He narrows his eyes and we walk in silence toward my room. At the entrance to the building, he pauses, still stiff and mad. “I’d like to try the new movements you taught me before we head into battle.” He looks away and shifts his weight. “Alone.”
He probably wants to think of ways to get rid of me now. Nervously, I ask, “Will you come for me when it’s time to go?”
“I will.” He bows his head and leaves.
I’ve nearly worn grooves in the floor with my pacing, but there’s no way for me to be still while I wait. I hate waiting. Hate it. I’m strung tight from the disaster with Constantine and freaking out I haven’t heard from Ilif. In the last hour I’ve come up with a dozen different scenarios of what’s happened with him and Papi—every one ending badly. I don’t know why I do that—always think the worst—it’s annoying but my brain defaults to all the awful things could happen.
I pause at the window and stare into the coming evening as the sun dips low over the horizon. It can’t be much longer now. I hope Constantine got what he wanted out of doing the Tai Chi by himself. The air shimmers outside my periphery and I turn to greet Ilif.
He doesn’t waste time before reporting in, not taking time to straighten the knot of his tie that’s loose and askew. Foreboding settles into the pit of my stomach and I grip the end of my braid, clinging to it like a lifeline. “I have returned to my origins of finding you, noting every disturbance to determine if one might lead us to Tiana or Penya. Your father and I have tracked a dozen similar to yours but not one worked. I do not know how much longer this will take.”
His shitty, not-helpful report sets a flame to my tinder of frustration. “I thought you were only coming when you had productive news. And what’d you do with Papi, lose him again?”
“Your father returns home at the close of each attempt to assure your mother all is well—at least where his own safety is concerned.” His face pinches. “And chasing down two dozen lead falls well within the category of productive.”
I snort. “No. It’s wasting time. Do you think we have to spare?”
“I know very well what we don’t have.” Now he straightens his tie and I want to strangle him with it. “You think I want her out there with one of my lightning riders?”
“We’re not yours.” I can’t believe he’d say such an absurd t
hing.
“This is not my choice, Evy. Having her involved in this program has never been my preference.”
“How didn’t you know she was involved?” He’s so oblivious about the most obvious things and I’m more and more frustrated with his lack of planning or ability to fix things when they go wrong.
“Must we get into a conversation about the inner workings of time travel? I could have spent three hundred years working with travelers and on year three hundred and one, Penya could go back to the beginning, superseding every event done to date. You understand that, correct?”
“Is what happened?” I’m seething and cranky and irritable.
“I have no other explanation. She was not involved in this program. I have dealt with generations of riders with no conflicts—None of the issues came about with you and your father. Sixty years, Evy. Sixty years I waited to find you. Penya hid from me all time.” He shakes his head and walks away—turns his back on me! “You have no idea. No idea the lengths woman will go to.”
“You’re no better. You’ve manipulated all of us. You cannot see past what she’s done to you to make sound decisions. I have no one I can count on. My sister is kidnapped... missing—we don’t know what year she’s in—we hope she’s in London but we don’t know either. We don’t know anything. You know nothing." I throw up my hands. “Yet again, you’re worthless.”
He spins and opens his mouth, then clamps it shut, visibly enraged and trembling.
“You know I’m right.” I put my finger in his face. “By letting Penya affect you like this you’re risking everything. Tiana’s life. The mission. My abilities. If she can sneak around behind what you’ve put together for these lightning riders, what makes you think she’s standing by twiddling her thumbs while she watches Tiana interact with this girl? She’s set Tiana on a course and then left her—just like you always did to me. You think she’ll micro-manage Tiana, but Tiana’s a good girl. She follows directions. You could tell her to sit in a corner for four hours and she wouldn’t budge. If Penya’s given her orders and guidance and told her to make friends, then it’s done. Penya could leave Tiana for days and she’d do exactly what she’d been told to do. Not a glimmer of disobedience. She’s nothing like me. You need to pull yourself together. You need to let go of this thing with Penya. You need to focus on the goddamn job at hand. Or we’re all going to lose. You get that, right? We all lose. Now go to your lab. Figure this out.” I turn my back on him.
