by T. C. Edge
As the journey continues, I find myself asking Athena question after question about what’s going on elsewhere in the country. Unfortunately, she’s typically brief with her responses, partly because that’s her way, and partly because she’s been under radio silence for a few days while she tried to track us down.
I do get some comforting news, however, about my parents back on Eden. Last she heard, they were perfectly safe, although knowing my dad, he won’t want to be sitting around doing nothing. His instincts will be to get out there and help, no matter what the danger might be. As he’s so often told me: “We need to stand up for what’s right, whatever the odds against us.”
He’s uttered that to me over and over again down the years, and now it is more pertinent than ever. Perhaps, subconsciously, that’s why I always rebelled against them and was adamant that I’d develop my powers – because for me, that was the right thing to do, and it didn’t matter what anyone else said, I knew it needed to be done.
Now, it seems, my own instincts have proven correct.
I speak a little with Velia, too, wanting to know exactly what happened after Ajax and I tumbled down the dune.
“You disappeared straight into the storm,” she says. “We had no idea which direction you’d fallen or how far. We tried to find you but couldn’t…not until the storm started to clear. Then, we saw Athena’s jet and flagged her down. It was too close for comfort, Theo…”
Sitting together quietly at the back of the jet, I see her hazel eyes glisten slightly. She looks at me for a moment and then kisses me gently on the cheek.
“What was that for?” I ask, my face growing hot.
“For saving my life. Vesuvia and I would have died in the quicksand if it wasn’t for you and Ajax.”
“And we’d have died a dozen times over if it wasn’t for you,” I say. “We’d have never made it out of the storm without you.”
“Then I guess we’re even,” she says. She taps her cheek with her finger. “Maybe you could return the compliment…”
I quickly lean in and graze my lips against her cheek. It’s soft, her skin warm. I feel her face liven into a brief smile, before she quickly douses it once again.
“I should save your life more often,” she says, before stepping away towards the front of the plane.
The journey back to Petram flashes by as we all exchange information and ponder the last few days. All we know now is that the foes against us are more powerful than we could have imagined, and more hell bent on destruction than we thought. What started as a spate of assassinations has morphed and evolved into something far greater. The entire country is once again under threat.
It’s a sobering thought, yet I’m glad to be in the centre of it. I was, perhaps, naïve to wish to be involved in such a thing. For years, I’ve imagined what it must have been like for my parents and the others, fighting evil and changing the world. They always told me that it wasn’t as glamorous as it sounded, that people died and suffered and had to endure terrible things.
Now, I’m beginning to understand where they’re coming from. Yet still, if I have this power, and can do anything to help, I will. I feel it’s my responsibility, my duty, to serve. Whatever happens next, whatever threat we may face, I’ll stand ahead of it and look it in the eye…and I won’t back down.
No matter what.
The plane sweeps around the mountains, rising back into the cool air up in the high passes. Through a clearing in the clouds, the grand plateau greets my eyes again, the city of Petram awaiting our arrival.
This time, however, we won’t be sneaking in the back. That time has passed by, our identities well known by the enemy. No longer are we going to be hiding in the depths of the mountain. I will not keep to the shadows any more.
As we glide towards the landing pads in the corner of the plateau, I scan the outside of the city and see that it’s quiet, life strangled by the new threat.
“It’s what terror does to people,” says Athena, looking out next to me. “Most people hide from it. They stop living.”
“Not me,” I say, gritting my teeth. “I’ll face it head on.”
Behind me, the others gather. And one after another, they all repeat the same words: “Me too.”
Athena looks upon us all, no longer just kids. Her sleek, fox-like eyes inspect us as she’s prone to do, before sweeping back down to the plateau as we start our descent.
“Good,” she says, looking out of the window, “because I’ve got a feeling we’ll need all the help we can get…”
4
A City Subdued
The city is quiet inside and out. When we enter through the large arches and into the mountain interior, I notice that the streets are more subdued than the last time I was here. That was several months ago now, when the city was mourning the death of its great leader. I turn my eyes down to Velia and Vesuvia and see that theirs have grown small. I’m sure they’re thinking of the same man as I am: their father, Troy.
Of course, the funeral of Troy was as much a celebration of his life as a lamentation of his death. The party before we left was wild, the people seemingly defiant against the threat lurking in the shadows. Now, however, fear appears to have taken a tighter grip, strangling any joy from within the great chamber.
As we move inside, we find the new city Master, Markus, coming towards us, flanked by numerous guards. I spy their eyes more closely now, knowing that there are other Watchers among us trained by Athena. By now, I’m finding it easier to tell who has Watcher powers; my own senses becoming more attuned by the day. More difficult, however, is determining the depths of a person’s abilities, something only a few can do.
Markus approaches quickly down the central street, people closely monitored and brushed aside by his men as he comes. As he nears, I see his eyes passing over all of us, before sticking closely to Athena. So far, I’ve found him to have a warm and open countenance. Today, however, his eyes are wary.
“Athena,” he calls out as he approaches. “It’s good to have you back. Where have you been?”
She steps towards him, leaving us in her wake. We follow closely behind as the two city leaders meet.
“I have plenty to tell you, Markus,” she says. “But not here. There are too many eyes and ears.”
Markus nods.
“Of course. Come this way.”
They begin moving off, and we find ourselves following. Only when we near a passage leading from the main chamber does Markus turn before entering.
“Perhaps we should speak alone,” he says, looking towards myself and Ajax and the girls.
“Not at all. Really, it’s them you need to speak with.”
A frown falls over his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. We move down the passage, the walls growing smoother and more sleek as we go, the rock cut into the shape of a corridor. At the end, a large door looms, heavy and wooden and guarded by two further men.
When we reach it, Markus orders his men to stay outside as the rest of us enter. The room beyond is long and rectangular, set with a table in the middle and several paintings on the walls. To the left hangs one of Eden, the ocean raging around it, the sky dark and filled with lightning.
As Athena closes the door, Markus looks to us.
“This is the City Master’s room,” he says. “During the war, we’d use it to plan and form our strategies. Your parents were often here, their opinions counting just as much as anyone else’s, despite their age at the time. I think it’s quite fitting that you should all be in here now.”
He takes a seat and invites us to do the same.
“Now tell me,” he says, “exactly what’s been going on.”
For the next few minutes, we go over what we’ve been doing, leading all the way back to Eden and the plan Drake came up with for us to train with Athena in the depths of the mountain. We each offer our voices, adding them when needed, until Markus has a full picture of the current situation. By the time our tale has been told, Athena has withdrawn t
he file and passed it down the table to the City Master.
Markus’ expression has turned stark. He eyes the first page of the file, and the image of Augustus Knight, with revulsion.
“I’m sorry to have kept you in the dark about this,” says Athena. “However, Drake thought it was best if as few people as possible knew.”
“Well, it’s clearly paid off,” says Markus. “Drake always had a profound intuition about these things. Perhaps he knew that you would all have a part to play in uncovering this mystery. What’s crucial now, however, is to try to decipher all of this. There might be details of Baron Reinhold’s plans in here…”
“That’s what we thought, or hoped for,” I say. “That’s why we were so desperate to get that file out of there.”
“Well, I’ll get my best people on it as soon as possible. See what they can dig up. In the meantime, you four look like you could do with a wash and a rest. I’ll have some rooms set up for you.”
“Thank you, sir,” say the girls.
He looks at them fondly. “You’ve really grown up, ladies,” he says. “The last time I saw you, you were down around my hip. Your father would be proud of what you’ve done.”
I see their eyes firm up. I’ve discovered that it’s something they do in order to prevent the show of another emotion. In this case, to stop any tears from welling. Like Athena, these girls have lived a hard life out in the desert. They’ve been bred into hardship, a strength inside them that goes right to their core.
Before we’re sent off, we ask once more about Drake and Link, Ajax in particular wanting to know if there’s any news about his father. Markus merely utters the same as what Athena told us, saying that they haven’t been heard from for a few days. Ajax’s eyes darken at his words, a look of concern passing over his face.
“Don’t let it worry you,” says Markus. “If they’ve gone quiet, they’ve done so for a reason. They’re probably chasing down a lead as we speak. If there’s anyone we needn’t worry about, son, it’s your father.”
He raises a smile and temporarily sets Ajax’s concerns at ease. Yet, in his mind, I know that those worries are only going to build the longer this lack of contact goes on. I, too, feel a stab of concern at the fate of my grandfather, knowing now who they’re up against. Should they encounter the Seekers, I suspect even someone as powerful as Link would come off second best.
We’re led out of the room and down the passage by Athena, before being taken back to the same chamber we stayed at previously during our last visit. And, once more, we’re given the same accommodation as before, the four of us taking up residence in a comfortable house built into the rock wall. Up on the first floor, Ajax and I share one room, and Velia and Vesuvia another.
We part ways with a weary smile, my eyes tracing Velia’s steps as she follows her sister into their room. She turns to me once more just before she enters, and I find myself averting my eyes out of instinct and quickly retreating to my own chamber.
The sight of a comfortable bed is truly one for sore eyes, the air fresh and cool up here in the mountains. After quickly washing my body of days worth of accumulated sand and soot, I drop onto my bed and fall fast asleep. Never in my life have I dropped off quicker.
The following morning, we’re left to our own devices, our exhausted bodies given a chance to rest and recover. Sleeping in until mid afternoon, I wake to find myself alone in the room. When I leave, and step out onto the landing, I hear voices coming from the kitchen below.
I go down to find the others already there, now snugly dressed in winter gear. I can’t help but stifle a smile at the sight of the girls, tightly squeezed into several thick layers.
“Hey, it’s freezing up here,” says Velia, hitting me in the arm. “You try living in the desert your whole life and then coming to this.”
“Well, I can see why you chose not to live here now,” I laugh. “Have you visited much?”
“Not for years,” she says. “Mostly, dad would come to the West to see us. We wouldn’t leave our mother.”
“And what about now? Is your mother back home?”
She nods. “We had to leave to go to the Watcher Wars. We needed to find out what was going on…she understood.”
“And, she knows you have powers?”
“Of course. She’s proud of us,” says Vesuvia. “No one where we come from has stood up to the Baron for years. If ever they did, they’d disappear like that.” She snaps her fingers, loud in the little room. “We trained so we could do what the rest couldn’t…”
“Yeah, we just didn’t realise things were this bad,” says Velia. “I mean, the Baron’s been running the show out in the desert for a long time, but no one thought he was cooking up something as big as this. These clones…I just can’t get my head around it.”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” growls Ajax. “The worst thing is the waiting. The not knowing. I wonder when they’ll strike next…and where.”
“Could be anywhere,” I say. “Eden is in lockdown, and so are we here. All the important figures are well guarded. I don’t know, maybe they’ll try to lure us out into the open or something.”
I see Ajax’s eyes turn stark.
“Maybe they already have,” he says coldly.
The girls look at each other.
“You mean Link and Drake?” asks Vesuvia quietly.
Ajax continues to stare, his head slowly nodding.
“I just have this feeling,” he says, his words fading. “I can’t explain it.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” says Vesuvia, always the first to comfort Ajax when needed. “We’ve heard the things your dad has done. And President Drayton too. I don’t care where these clones got their DNA…they can’t be that strong, can they?”
She looks up to me, eyes asking for support I cannot give. My eyes tell their own story, because my words stay locked inside. They say that I have a terrible feeling too. That I, like Ajax, have a knot in the pit of my stomach that refuses to unravel.
It’s Velia, instead, who breaks the silence. She claps her hands together, paints a smile on her face, and says: “So, who’s hungry?”
Clearly intent on keeping our minds off what we can’t control, the girls set about gathering together some food that they find in the larder. I stand to help them, and together we fashion a picnic that we take through into the cosy sitting room.
Inside, several comfortable armchairs sit, with a table in between. We pile the table with food, and I set myself the task of lighting up a fire. Soon enough, the flames are rising nicely, and the cold room is growing pleasantly warm, sufficiently so for the girls to discard one or two of their layers.
We sit in a little circle and eat and talk, turning to less depressing subjects. It’s hard, really, given the few days we’ve had, but we try all the same. The girls talk about where they live, a small settlement on the edge of the desert, the coast not too far away. I tell of Lignum and the woods, of the days Ajax and I would spend hunting and dreaming of adventure.
“Well, you got your adventure,” says Velia flatly.
“And who knows...maybe you’ll get the hunt of your life,” adds Vesuvia.
Sitting furthest from the fire, Ajax stays quiet for the duration of the meal. Sunken into his chair, he remains consumed by his thoughts as the rest of us talk, his presence keeping us from lightening the mood for too long.
I don’t blame him one bit. As much as I love my grandfather, nothing compares to the concerns Ajax now has to bear. He may have a tough exterior, but inside he’s got a sensitive side; a deep caring for his family and friends that would see him do anything to keep them safe. Sitting here, not being able to help or do anything, is excruciating for him.
In the end, he excuses himself and heads back upstairs to our room.
He taps the bandage on his head as he goes and simply says, “I’m tired,” before disappearing around the corner. Vesuvia watches him go. I can see she wants to go with him, a natural caring stre
ak running through her own blood.
“Don’t,” says Velia as she makes a move to follow. “I think he just wants to be alone right now.”
She looks at me for confirmation, and I nod.
The evening drags on, a sombre mood beginning to descend. We try to lighten it on occasion, speaking once more of normal things, but everything seems to link back to something serious.
We talk of friends, and the girls tell me about a close friend of theirs who fell to the Baron’s drugs, eventually succumbing to an overdose. We talk of family, and our minds immediately switch to those we’ve lost or those we’re worried might suffer the same fate. We talk of our passions, our future, and realise that all of us have wanted for nothing but to develop our powers and use them for good.
When I listen to their reasoning, however, it makes me feel stupid. They only wanted to develop their powers to help their people, to one day sink the Baron’s operation and, latterly, avenge their father. My motivation was always different. Sure, I wanted to help people, but I only considered such a thing with a selfish mind. Really, I just wanted to be known and adored, to free myself from my parents’ shadow, to do great things as they did.
I was selfish, but now my mind has changed. Now I want to help because it’s the right thing to do. I want to help because it is my duty to do so; not for fame or fortune or the adoration of the people, but because I don’t want evil to once more consume this world. When I look at people like Velia and Vesuvia, their father dead, and think of my best friend upstairs, worried that his father may have befallen the same fate, I merely think: I want to help. I want to make a difference. I want to see them all happy.
With the hour growing late, Vesuvia is the next to depart. She kisses her sister goodnight and I hear her feet creaking away on the stairs and floor above. I share a smile with Velia when we realise she’s gone towards mine and Ajax’s room, no doubt keen to make sure he’s OK. Moments later, however, her footsteps take her back in the opposite direction.
