by Lucian Bane
The blast exploded everything that Poe could feel, see, and touch. His own body felt as though it floated in particles all around. But it was done. He’d shattered everything. The Scribbler’s creations… the connection to Contessant… and the human’s mind.
Poe watched himself stand and stumble back. He staggered sideways then finally forward, ending face down on the ground.
****
Sabre gasped air into his lungs, long and deep.
“What happened,” Valentine said, looking around.
Sabre wasn’t sure. “I was trapped in my body,” he glanced quickly about, remembering how he was walking one second then he couldn’t move, think, or breathe. “I could see out but nothing else.”
“Same here,” Valentine muttered, searching around, no doubt for Rukie.
Poe. Where was Poe? Just as he wondered it, Rukie’s dark hair came into view a few hundred feet away. Sabre froze at seeing blonde hair next to it.
“There,” Valentine said, hurrying to them.
Sabre ran after him, realizing it was the girl they’d left in the car. She’d not listened.
“Help me!” Rukie suddenly screamed.
Sabre and Valentine stood next to where Poe laid on his back. Tears streamed down Rukie’s face as she stroked his hand. “He’s not waking up.”
“I’m sorry,” the blonde girl said. “I tried to help. I had a bad feeling and so I came looking. I’m sorry I left the car but it seemed really stupid to just stay there when you think your friends are in trouble.”
Sabre knelt next to her and she suddenly lunged on him, hugging him tight. “So glad you’re okay,” she whispered. He fought the rush of sensations that came with the emotional gesture. His skin hurried to record everything; temperature, texture, the press of her cheek and lips against his neck. His body quickly relayed all the new information that it had never experienced, in all its existence, to his stupefied mind.
“He killed Zinfandel.”
Sabre turned toward the odd voice on his right. “Who said that?”
“This,” Valentine said, picking up a huge, wooden club.
“Hey, I can’t see.”
Sabre eyed the mumbling shield on the ground and picked it up.
“Thank you,” it gasped. “I’m claustrophobic.”
“I hacked his head off!” Sabre jerked to the wooden sword a few feet away and picked it up in wonder. “One blow,” he bragged. “Shoop, clean cut! Was classical!”
“The foul root molester had it coming to him,” the club said.
“And the Miskriat was dying,” the shield boomed.
“The nerve,” the sword bellowed. “Before he fulfilled our bargain!”
Sabre knelt next to Poe and touched him. “Valentine?”
Valentine stooped down and touched the Riders neck for several seconds, moving his fingers to his forehead next. He finally looked at Sabre and shook his head.
“What?” Sabre shot in anger as he stood and paced. “How can the Rider not wake up?” That was goddamn absurd. He froze his pacing. His Scribbler. If something happened to her… Before he could panic, he remembered. He and Valentine were still be alive which meant it couldn’t be that. Or could it?
Panic won over, and Sabre dialed the Queen’s main line. She answered immediately. “The Scribbler,” Sabre gushed. “Check on the Scribbler!”
“I was just with her,” she hurried. “She’s fine—what in the realms is wrong?”
Sabre sagged in relief then went back to confused. “Something isn’t right. The Rider isn’t waking up.” He refused to say dead. “And The Rider obviously should wake up!” Sabre nearly yelled into the phone before turning his back to the sudden stares aimed at him. He clenched his eyes tight. “Forgive me, my Queen,” he whispered, keeping his voice even. “But the Rider can’t be…”
“Stay there,” she whispered. “I am sending air transport.”
Sabre held his jaw together at the sadness he heard in her voice. He couldn’t respond, he just hung up. “They’re sending air transportation,” he said, keeping his back to them before he realized he needed to call Sarah.
He finally worked up enough courage to dial her number and she picked up immediately. “Poe?” The name gushed from her lips like she’d been holding her breath for hours to hear his voice.
Pain stabbed him hard and he swallowed it down. “It’s Sabre.”
“Sabre,” she gasped. “Something bad happened. Where’s Poe? I was attacked, they made me try to kill all of you!” she shrieked hysterically into the phone. Sabre! Where’s Poe!” she demanded.
“He’s here.”
“Let me talk to him, I need to know he’s okay,” she said, her voice shaking.
Sabre clenched his eyes shut. “He can’t right now, Sarah.”
“What? Sabre, what? Tell me! Tell me!” she screamed.
“I don’t know what happened. The Queen is sending air transport and we’re bringing him in.”
“What happened Sabre?” she asked, crying full out now. “Tell me!” she begged quietly.
Sabre explained it all and she let out several sobs. “He saved me!” she cried. “He always does. And I…” She fought to catch her breath. “Sabre, I can’t… accept this.”
“Neither can I,” he said truthfully. “And I won’t. He’s strong. He can come back.”
“What if he doesn’t!” she shrieked hysterically.
“Shhhhh, shhh,” Sabre said, his heart breaking for her. “Please don’t do this, please be strong. Now isn’t the time to break, Sarah. Not now.”
She sputtered several sobs then whispered, “Okay. You’re right. Poe needs me strong, not weak and stupid. Okay,” she said more firmly. “I’m fine. You’ll come here and everything will be okay.”
“Yes,” Sabre said quietly. “Everything will be okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charlotte paced, refusing to let herself fall apart. There was always a way in fiction to fix any problem. There was no plot she could not tweak, no corner she could not write herself out of. This was no different. Just another corner. A plot hole she would fill. She would bring him back. That was her job, her duty as the Scribbler. She was the conductor of that life force, just as the Queen said. She wouldn’t let him down.
The phone rang and she pressed the button. “Hello?” Damn voice trembled even with all her trying.
“We’re here.”
“Sabre,” she said in relief. “Okay, I’m waiting for escort.” A knock sounded. “They’re here now.”
Charlotte hung up and followed the two officers in white to the same room where they’d discussed tactical strategy. It felt like forever before the doors opened and they entered. Charlotte wanted to race to them but at seeing Poe’s body stretched out on a narrow bed, she froze. The set the bed carefully on the table and Charlotte slowly approached him. “He looks like he’s sleeping,” she said, relieved and nodding through tears as she touched trembling fingers to his forehead and stroked lovingly.
“The Queen will tell me what to do,” Charlotte whispered to him. “You’ll see, I’ll fix it. I’ll make it right.” She leaned and kissed his temple and forehead. “He’s even still warm,” she said nodding.
She glanced at Sabre and Valentine. “Thank you for bringing him back.” The final word got cut with the vice in her throat. She swallowed and eyed Rukie.
Sabre turned and quietly said, “This is… the girl.”
The girl hurried forward with serious eyes and whispered. “The girl with no name,” she said, but Charlotte saw the keen understanding in her eyes. The joke was meant to distract Charlotte from the catastrophe.
“You should give her a name, Sabre,” Charlotte said.
“Me?” his eyes went wide.
“I don’t see why not,” Charlotte whispered with a smile. “I have several dozen I go by.”
“Right,” Sabre said, locking gazes with her. The sorrow in his eyes made Charlotte shake her head at him. He was going to ca
use an emotional avalanche if he made any sudden, wrong moves.
He nodded and looked down, thankfully seeming to understand.
The Queen entered, her stern gaze fixed on Poe. She was all business and consternation, a Queen of action and resolutions. She placed her palm on Poe’s chest and closed her eyes. Charlotte watched, breathless as lavender energy glowed under her hand. Her brows furrowed in concentration while they all waited for what had happened and how to fix it.
She slowly opened her eyes and the light faded as she removed her hand. Staring at Poe, she said in a low voice of awe. “This has never been done on Octava before,” she whispered.
“What happened? Charlotte gasped.
The Queen looked at her for several seconds. “He sacrificed his life to save you.”
Charlotte shook her head a little, needing more information. “So, how do I fix it?”
She smiled, her pain evident in her eyes. “This is not… a story problem, Scribbler,” she whispered. “It’s far beyond that. He has reversed the Eight Fold Way at the expense of his life.” She shook her head slowly, tears filling her lavender gaze. “I am so very sorry.”
Charlotte put the heel of her palm over her right eye, pressing against the shooting pain there. “Wait… no. Let me think a moment.” She began to pace. “I just need a moment to think. See, one thing I have learned as a writer, is that there’s always a way,” she nodded. “In fiction, there is always a way to write yourself out of a corner, such as this. I do it all the time.”
She eyed Sabre and Valentine. “You can help me.”
“Whatever you need,” Sabre said, nodding.
“Okay,” Charlotte nodded turning to the Queen. “What can we do. The three of us. The three of us will join energy. We just need you to show us some kind of loop hole.”
The Queen stared for many seconds, her gaze frozen in sadness. “If there were… I would be the first to implement it personally,” she said softly.
Charlotte hit the heel of her hand on her head several times and began pacing. She didn’t need anybody. “I need Kane’s puzzle solving abilities,” Charlotte mumbled as she sorted through the details. “I’ll find a way, you’ll see. Poe, now he’s…” she gasped and nodded. “I made him really sharp at puzzles.” The final word shot out in a gasp as she fought to hold back the avalanche barreling down inside her.
Sabre’s arms went around her and she exploded in panic, fighting what that meant. “Get off of me!” she screamed, thrashing. “Get your fucking hands off of me!” she roared. “There is a goddamn way!”
“Sarah!” he hissed.”
“I’m not Sarah! I’m Contessant! Contessant Juiliet!” she roared, kicking her feet. “You’re lying!” she screamed at the Queen. “You’re lying to me! Tell me what to do! I have to fix it, I’m the goddamn SCRIBBLER! I’M THE GODDAMN SCRIBBLER!” Charlotte clawed at Sabre’s arms. “POE! POE, WAKE UP! YOU WAKE UP! I ORDER YOU, I AM YOUR CREATOR, YOU HAVE TO LISTEN!”
“Shhhhhh,” Sabre gasped in her hear. “Shhhhhh, shhhh, I’m here.”
“I’m his creator!” she wailed.
“Yes, and he is your very finest creation,” Sabre whispered in her ear.
“Poooooe!” she cried, “don’t’ leave me! Don’t leave me!” she wept hoarsely.
“Valentine,” Sabre called.
“Valentine,” she wailed when he stood before her. “Help me!”
“Okay, Scribbler, I got you.”
Her breaths slowed and her arms and legs suddenly felt like lead, her eye lids too heavy to lift. “Help me,” she barely managed, as everything went dark.
****
“It’s time,” Sabre stormed into Charlotte’s room and pulled her arm, making her sit up. “You’re going to pull out of this. Rider would want you to.”
“I would get a no,” Charlotte whispered.
Sabre knelt before her, holding her limp hands. “What do you mean, love?” he asked softly.
“Mr. Buckles,” she mumbled. “He’d mark me with no.”
Sabre slowly stood. “Where… did you get that name?”
Charlotte stared at the space before her. “He visited me the other day. The day…” she shook her head. “I never got a chance to tell anybody.”
“Shit,” he whispered, pulling her to stand. “Get dressed Contessant,” he whispered. “Mr. Buckles is huge game changer.”
She looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“He’s prophesied to come.”
“Right,” Contessant remembered. “To mark everybody. Yes or no. Good or bad.”
“That’s right,” Sabre said, nodding while holding her gaze tight. “Do you know why?”
She wasn’t really sure and was sure she didn’t care so much. “No.”
“Because at the end of the world, there will be a final war. And Mr. Buckles—the Marksman—is prophesied to come and mark those who should be touched, or not touched. Protected, or not protected from the judgement that will be poured out from the Seventh Realm onto the Evil eating the realm.”
She stared at Sabre, her vision blurring before whispering, “I sure wish… I cared.”
“You must care!” he yelled in her face. “Rider died to protect you Contessant, and goddammit you will not waste that, do you hear me?”
Charlotte screamed and slammed her fists against his chest and Sabre embraced her tight. “You must live! I’m begging you. For Poe, for me… for Kane,” he whispered desperate.
Charlotte froze and gripped Sabre’s arms. “Kane,” she gasped, looking around. How could she forget him? “Kane! I need to find Kane! Poe wanted to find him!”
“Yes!” he said. “And I will put all of Octava’s scouts on it immediately.” He gripped her face tight. “But I need you to wake up, Contessant. I need you ready to fight.”
The tears in Sabre’s eyes shattered the choke hold keeping her mind and heart a million miles away. Her breath came in bursts as the two sides collided together with a rocking force. She grabbed hold of Sabre with a sob. “Okay,” she cried. “Okay, Sabre, I’ll fight. I”ll fight!” she screamed. “For Poe. For you. For Valentine, for Kane.” She pulled back and quickly wiped the tears off his beautiful face, shame hitting her. “I’ll fight, I promise.”
Sabre hugged her tight, gasping in relief. “Thank you. So much. I have to go alert the Queen about the Marksman. That changes everything.”
****
Charlotte dressed and made herself presentable then allowed the escorts to take her to the tactical chambers. She wasn’t sure why she needed escorts now. What was the risk? What were they guarding? Why should they care about her, it wasn’t like she could really do much but write a bunch of bullshit that amounted to nothing in the scheme of greater things.
“Contessant.” The Queen welcomed her with a warm embrace. The scent of lavender flowers after a rain shower of honey, enveloped and soothed Charlotte’s senses.
“Hi,” she said, feeling again, the pressing reality of just how out of place she was in these affairs that were far beyond her.
“Sit near me,” she whispered, gesturing to the chair at the end.
Charlotte made her way, latching on to Sabre’s stern blue gaze that followed her. She glanced at Valentine next to Sabre as she sat, smiling barely when he gave a discreet wink. Charlotte’s eyes flitted over the other Guardians there. She didn’t know them any better than she did since they’d first been introduced. And it had turned out that the three missing Guaridans were part of the rebellion.
“The Marksman has come,” the Queen announced right off.
The shocked murmurs from the other Guardians made Charlotte’s stomach tickle with unknown anxiety. That they should be troubled meant big things.
“As you all know, the coming of the Marksman is the universal flare we have waited for centuries for. I have alerted the Bellman as is my duty. The Summoning Ceremony will begin upon his arrival.
“Summoning?” Charlotte wondered.
“Indeed,” the Q
ueen said with a stern look. “Once the Marksman comes, the Seven Sons of Zion are to be summoned for the final war.” She looked around at all of them. “The end… is finally here.”
That fear in Charlotte’s stomach increased. The end is finally here. Why did she sound happy about that? Weren’t ends, bad?
“Once the Seven Sons arrive, we will make preparation to go to war.”
And that was it. The entire meeting was about the Marksman, affirming it was indeed a very weighty matter. Charlotte reminded herself for the fiftieth time, that she’d be giving a shit from now on about matters that were weighty to others. Because surely there was not a matter more weighty to her than the one that had just crushed her heart.
“Did you talk to the Queen about Kane?” Charlotte asked Sabre as he escorted her back to her room.
“It’s already been done. The Scouts left immediately.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. If she couldn’t find anything that mattered to her, she’d focus on things that mattered to others. Kane mattered to Poe and Charlotte so she’d focus on that while she healed.
They entered her room and at the prospect of being alone, Charlotte latched onto Sabre’s arm. “Don’t leave. Not yet.”
“Okay,” he said, shutting the door and following her in. “I’ll keep you company until you’re bored to tears and begging me to leave.”
“I don’t think I should be left to my thoughts right now.”
“Do you wish to… maybe visit…?”
She shook her head roughly. They’d buried Poe someplace amazing and beautiful and peaceful. And stupid as far as she was concerned. She didn’t want to see, or know, she didn’t even want to hear about it.
“Did you name her yet?” Contessant asked, ready to change the subject to other people’s lives.
Sabre sat on the golden plush couch for two and chuckled a little. “Not yet, but she wants me to.” Charlotte’s room was of the Victorian detail. Somebody must’ve read her mind and gathered her tastes when fashioning her quarters. The whole place was Victorian elegance which felt… really stupid and all wrong. Like playing dress-up and listening to happy music at a funeral.
