by M C Ashley
I furrowed an eyebrow. “Interesting. Now I see why this requires my attention. What else did Nathan-Prime have to say about her?”
Before he could answer, I stopped moving, having seen something I had not been expecting.
“What’s wrong?” Nathan asked.
“Nothing,” I said, putting him down on the ground so he could stand.
I looked at the closest door to us and felt an odd wave of warmth enter my mind. I reached for the door handle, half-expecting to be incinerated, but found instead that any enchantment that had once been on it was long gone. Opening the door, I stepped inside my parents’ room.
Despite what should have happened to it over the years, it seemed as if this room had been spared the residual decay that everywhere else had. In fact, everything was in pristine condition, no doubt the result of an invocation my mother had crafted. A flash of memories entered my mind of my father and mother debating something in secret, almost as if they were unaware that I was there. I saw a girl with long, blonde hair, and then heard the word “Bodandyne”, which meant absolutely nothing to me. I shook my head; I had no recollection of any event like that ever happening, making me wonder if I had momentarily recovered one moment from the seven years I was missing.
“Are you okay?” Nathan asked, drawing me back to the present.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just a lot of memories here.”
“Is this bed mine?” Nathan asked, running over and jumping onto it, as he bounced up and down.
I tried to protest, but I experienced another memory, this time one I could recall of me when I was seven, doing the exact same thing. I calmed myself down and smiled.
“Sure thing, kiddo,” I said. “It’s all yours.”
“Blake,” Nathan said, quietly.
“Yes?” I asked, moving closer.
Nathan reached his arms around me and hugged me tightly. I recovered from the sudden move and patted his back.
“Thank you for saving me,” he said. “I thought I was going to die.”
He let go of me and looked me in the eye.
“It’s all right, Nathan,” I said. “I’m here. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
“That’s a lie.”
“It was supposed to be a motivational one.”
“I don’t like people who lie,” he said, sinking away from me and into the bed, staring blankly into the ceiling. “They lied to me.”
“Who?”
“The village elders. They said they wouldn’t give me up to the slavers, but then when I was asleep they kidnapped me and got paid for it. I trusted them. They always looked out for me. I don’t have a family. I never have…except for…”
“I see.”
I shook my head, barely containing my anger. It was stupid, but I wanted to leave there right now and flambé every last one of them for putting Nathan in danger. I didn’t even know him that well, but I had this inkling of wanting to protect him. I questioned it immediately. Changes in one’s decision-making could be a sure sign of possession. I stopped myself before I went too far down that path. There was a time to be suspicious and a time to be nurturing.
I sat down next to Nathan and ruffled his hair. I’d never been good with kids. They were unknowns in my life. I never had brothers or sisters to grow up with. None of my friends had gotten married and had any of their own for me to interact with. It’s not that I didn’t like them; I actually loved watching kids work together and practice their invocations at the Fortress. But whenever I had to spend time with them, I just didn’t know what to do. So far, we had all been in a life or death situation. That I was used to.
But now, I had no clue what I was doing.
“It’s okay,” Nathan said, looking up at me. “I don’t know either.”
I froze, still not used to his unintentional mind probing.
He frowned. “Sorry,” he said.
“No, you’re fine,” I said. “You weren’t taught what I was. You do it instinctively, I guess. Please be mindful of others. What we think isn’t always what we mean.”
“I know. People are stupid. Thoughts are even dumber.”
I laughed. “Succinctly put.”
Nathan jumped up, as if he’d forgotten something. “Cinderella!” he shouted.
He paused, focusing on some idea and then turned to me.
“We have to find her as soon as possible!” he yelled.
I held my hands up and tried not to laugh. His attention span was worse than mine.
“All right, all right,” I said. “Just tell me why.”
“The Feast; she’s involved,” Nathan said.
“How so?”
He paused, trying to recall something. “Nathan-Prime said that she was captured by the Collective. They killed her parents in Chicago. They were Forum survivors, but managed to escape. They tried to start a rebellion up north over ten years ago, but Zoë stopped it. She took Cinderella as a trophy and trained her to be her tracker. She’s held in Zoë’s private mansion on Harbor Bridge.”
“Against her will?”
“Yes. She’s been trying to fight Zoë for years, but…”
“The Collective gets what the Collective wants. Would she be willing to work with us?”
“No. Not yet. She’s scared. Zoë controls her emotions, taking away her will.”
I cringed. I’d seen it too many times before: humans losing their ability to fight back against their vampiric captives. Often, when we found victims they’d lost all sense or reason. For most mundanes, it’d be almost impossible for them to recover from having their minds and souls tainted. For Christened there was a larger chance, but no guarantee.
“That’s not all.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“The Feast requires a fire to burn all the victims.”
“Go on.”
“She’s the one who has to start the fire.”
I flinched. Invoking that much fire to kill that many people would pay a heavy emotional and mental toll on the one who crafted it. It’s commonly said that the more people you kill with invocation, the more the deaths dwell on your mind. I’d experienced it on a lower level. I’d killed before, but they hardly mattered to me, because all of them had been inhuman monsters. For a little while after they died I could feel psychic echoes of their life, memories that weren’t mine or feelings I disagreed with, but they always faded quickly. In fact, I’d never really paused to think about it before because the echoes always atrophied as soon as they appeared.
I’d never killed a human being before, but my father had. He had told me once in confidence that his killing of another human being had marked him. It was before he had become a member of the Gray Forum and he knew nothing about their laws. At the time he was unaware of his own abilities and he had unknowingly used them to kill a man who had killed people my father had cared about. While I was quick to defend him, he told me that even though he had done the world a service to kill the man, he had also taken a life, something forbidden by God since before the creation of the world. Worse still, because he had used invocation to kill the man, he was now cursed to never forget what he had done. He could tell me exactly what this man had looked like, what he had been thinking at the time of his death, and how the man would never leave his mind.
If Cinderella killed the sacrifices with invocation, the imparted memories of over six hundred people would torture her for the rest of her life.
“I understand,” I said. “Well at least we know what to do next.”
“But not how,” Zea said from behind me, making me jump up from my chair.
“Got-dang-it, woman!” I yelled. “Don’t do that to me! Where I come from we announce our presence before talking behind people!”
Zea furrowed an amused eyebrow, and gazed at my defensive stance intently, her eyes telling me that she had no clue why I should be reacting like this. “Your culture is very strange,” she said, uninterested. “I felt your excitement. From what I’ve seen so far this me
ans yet another irreversible change to my life, so I decided to investigate.”
I grunted. A normal person would’ve said I had a pushy, self-serving personality and moved on with their lives, but not this chick.
Nathan laughed. “I like her,” he said. “She reminds me of someone I know.”
Zea offered a polite smile. “So, let me guess, we find this person you’re thinking about right now and rush in blindly hoping we can end up in a situation where someone comes out of the blue to save us like last time?”
“I’ll make an actual plan this time,” I said, frowning.
“Oh, really? This should be interesting to see.”
“Ha-ha.”
“What’s so funny?”
I started to talk, but noticed her statement was genuine by the look on her face. Man, she was hard to read sometimes.
“Oh, you actually meant that,” I said. “Sorry. I thought you were making a joke.”
“Why would I joke at a time like this?” she asked. “Lives are at stake. Especially mine. I just need some guarantees that I won’t get killed by one of your more…inspired impetuous ideas.”
“All right fine. Look, I can actually make up really good plans—I just…it’s easier to charge in and work it out from there. I thrive on defying the odds.”
“That explains a lot.”
“I can design intricate plans that would probably work, but it’s just so much of a hassle that I…well, I’ve never really thought about it before like this. Normally I have at least two competent people making up plans knowing that I’m going to leap in like a lunatic while they figure out what to actually do. I’m not used to being the idea guy.”
“But you can still do it?”
“It goes against my initial nature, but I can if I care enough about it. Normally it’s while I’m in the middle of a fight. I’m not used to flying solo. It’s one of the reasons I was turned down for the position of Joab.”
“You?” Zea asked. “You were going to be the Joab? What were they thinking?”
“I know, right?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure the only reason I was brought up for the job in the first place was because of my dad.”
Zea tilted her head and examined me. “I don’t understand.”
“Nepotism.”
Zea’s expression didn’t change.
“I only got to compete because my father was one of the leaders of the Forum,” I went on.
“I see,” Zea said. “Nepotism. You are used to it. It does not matter anymore.”
“Fair enough.”
“What do we do now?” Nathan asked.
I looked at Zea and I saw the inward flinch in her eyes.
“No,” she said.
“Too late,” I said. “We’re going to Vice City.”
Chapter 13
My first obstacle to this plan would be Mara. I needed to convince her that my idea was passable. However, I never got the chance to talk to her for a day, because Zea forced me to rest, which even I could see the merit in doing.
It was such an odd idea originally, though. Normally I would have sustained myself by collecting energy from my surroundings, enabling me to go for days on end without rest. I suppose Zea must have known this, seeing as she had the same powerful condition as I did and wanted me to not use it recklessly. Then again, she must have trained herself extensively not to, as anyone searching for such energy expenditure in the supernatural aether would be able to locate the person doing so quite easily. Given that I had caused a huge ruckus several times over in the past couple of days, I imagined that it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for someone to be searching for my spiritual signal. So, I decided to do as I was told.
I had to get used to that idea. Sure, there had always been some bureaucracy during my time in the Forum, but I’d never really dealt with repercussions for my more outgoing take on the job. I’d never really dwelt on the idea before, but the fact that both of my parents had been on the High Court had gotten me out of a lot of trouble.
Now I had no one to bail me out if I screwed up.
So, swallowing my pride, I had gone to sleep, dreaming nothing, a rare blessing for the Christened.
When I had woken up, my body had healed immensely. This was nothing new. Cellular regeneration was a heck of a perk.
I chose to wait before I talked to Mara. I needed time to think. I needed time to reinvent myself. So, I walked through the Silver Fortress, taking time to speak with the refugees, making sure that they were okay. Their stories hurt my heart immensely—this world was broken. There were no stabilizing nations around to help anyone out and no Sentinels or Psionics willing to protect others, with most falling into darker habits, using their power to control others instead. America was just the Free-Zone now, a decaying entity without a chance of solving anything. Europe had gone dark. Rumors said that Japan and several island nations were rebuilding themselves as a powerhouse. Israel had been silent for over seventy years. The most popular rumor was that they had erected a huge wall around the pre-1967 borders and wanted nothing to do with anyone else.
The refugees had dealt with powerful monsters and wizards for every waking moment of their lives. This never should have happened. It was our job to stop this from happening. Now we were gone, dead for a hundred years.
Why hadn’t we prepared better? Why hadn’t we cared enough?
“You worry too much about that which you cannot change,” Mara said.
I tried not to jump in surprise, but failed, almost falling in the rose bush I was sitting beside in the gardens of the Fortress. “What is it with you two and never offering the common courtesy of announcing your presence?” I asked.
Mara offered a frail smile. “Forgive me. I am still getting used to there being more people than Zea and I here in the Fortress.”
“Apology accepted.” I shook my head. “I can’t help it. I’m a worrier. I always got agitated when I wasn’t doing my job. It’s part of why I never got married. Guess I was too busy focusing on the fight.”
“And never once did you accept that it would never end?”
I stood up. “And why should I? Knowing there are creatures out there willing to do anything to humanity just to screw them over made me never want to stop. I’m no idiot. I know I can’t solve everything. My ego’s not that big. At least I hope not.”
“Peace, Guardian Azarel. I meant no disrespect. I merely wished to present the query.”
“Sorry. It’s just that I wish I was better at dealing with this whole thing than I am. Am I being too whiny about it? Not enough? How am I supposed to act now?”
Mara placed a hand on my shoulder. “Your confusion is natural. Embrace it and overcome it. We are not meant to know everything. If there is anything I have learned from my time studying the Archives, it is that our kind is far too reckless for our own good. Our common Creator may have tasked us with saving this world, but that does not mean that we ruin ourselves to do so. Even He rested on the seventh day.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that if we don’t do anything, then over six-hundred people are going to die soon.”
“I was wondering when you would bring this up.”
She stiffened her posture and eyed me intently. I flinched. She was angry.
Mara sighed. “I’m not angry,” she said, offering a smile.
I furrowed an eyebrow. “You’re not?”
“No. In fact, I’m quite happy at this change of affairs.”
I looked her in the eye and felt her sincerity.
“I have never seen Zea happier,” she said.
I laughed. “Are you kidding me?” I asked. “She was about to tear my head off for even suggesting the idea.”
She grinned. “For too long we have been hiding here, recuperating for a fight that we never intended to wage. From our birth as Christened, we know that we are meant for greatness. It is a sign of His calling that we wish to protect others. Not all of us listen, but there are those fair few who ar
e too nobly stupid to ever think about doing anything else.”
I perked up. I was noble. Then I paused. I was also stupid. I frowned.
“You have a great way of destroying my ego while trying to build it,” I said.
“We can all use a little humbling in our lives, Blake.”
I paused. She used my name. That was promising. I smiled.
“I cannot say that I approve of this, but I know that it must be done,” Mara said, staring at the broken gardens. “For too long the world has forgotten what the Gray Forum stood for. For too long evil has wiped out any trace of hope in this world. I did not know what to think of you when you first came here, but you have always been honest in what you intended to do. Yours is an impressive mind, Blake. Single-minded, perhaps, but one I can trust. I do not want to endanger what Zea and I have built here, but I have not been doing the Gray Forum any justice. I have not followed the will of God.” She turned to look at me. “But you will. Yes, this is what He was telling us to wait for. You will lead us to where we belong with my blessing.”
I blinked. I expected to get a yes from her, but her blessing? That had been out of the question.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I do not make this decision easily,” Mara said. “I would never have considered it before today. But you coming here, Zea foretelling your arrival, the founder of the Forum bringing you to Nathan, and Clooney coming from God knows where to help? These are signs of His blessing. I would be a fool to deny them.”
“But I haven’t even told you my plan yet.”
Mara shook her head. “Did you even have one?”
I looked at my feet. “I was kind of hoping I’d figure it out by the time I talked to you.”
She laughed. “That’s okay. We all have our fields of strength and weakness. In time, you will overcome this. Therefore, He is not asking you to do it alone.”
“I think I might be able to help with that,” Nathan’s voice said, surprising me yet again.
I turned to face him. He had changed clothes, more than likely given them by Mara or Zea. His face seemed fuller and he had a spark in his eyes.
