The Eternal Edge Of Aether

by Nicola Claire

  And I did not want Cassandra to carry the burden of my pain. Not even a shadow of it.

  A shudder rolls through me. Aktor’s gnarled old hand lands on my shoulder. He knows what I am thinking. What I am remembering. What he rescued me from and why he had to painstakingly rebuild me for many years afterwards.

  “Pyrgos must not be resurrected,” I say.

  Everyone is silent. Perhaps they recognise the remembered agony they see on my face.

  “The Council Chamber,” I murmur. Where my father heard Melita’s false accusations of treason against me and, as Rigas, sentenced me to the Bull for a year and a day. “The Dungeon,” I add. Where I paid for the sin of not making Melita my Thisavros.

  Where Casey was tortured and almost broken, and our true Thisavros connection was taken away. I wonder now if Melita might not have had a hand in that punishment also. It seems there were depths to Melita I still did not fathom and that my father appears to have excavated.

  “Pyrkagia has been corrupted,” I say into the flames. “Black smoke pours out of us.”

  I shake my head and place the empty cup of soup off to the side.

  “I’m not sure a Right of Rule challenge is going to succeed, but we have to do this the correct way. If Pyrkagia has any hope of recovering its honour, it must be done so without shame.”

  “Your plan?” Nico asks.

  “If we cannot call the Council to meet with us, then we will meet with the Council.”

  I look toward Noah.

  “Do you have contact with your people?”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “Tell them to bring my father to the top of Mount Eden tomorrow at sunset.”

  He nods his head.

  I look toward Pisces.

  “Can you reach your father?”

  “Of course.”

  “Let him know to be there. I want witnesses. And not just Pyrkagia. You were right; this is about balance. The world’s balance. Aether’s balance.”

  Pisces inclines his head and pulls a satellite phone from Aetheros alone knows where on his horse-fish-man body.

  I quickly look away and search out Hippolytos.

  “My grandfather is already aware and has informed our King,” he says.

  I don't ask. I just arch a brow at him. He smiles and hops up and down on his feet, arms swinging excitedly.

  My eyes land on Sonya and Nico.

  “If I phone her, I won’t be able to deny her,” I say. “And she needs to remain in Gi. Leaving now could be detrimental to the rebuilding of the Amazon.”

  Sonya opens her mouth, no doubt to argue because I’ve come to realise there’s not an argument that humans don't think they could win. But I hold my hand up to her and look at Nico.

  “There is a hunter. Her name is Rhea. She spoke for the Gi before Casey chose that Element for her own. I would like her to be brought here. She may bring a small contingency, but she must not bring Casey.”

  “Theo,” my cousin says.

  “I can not…” I start again, swallowing thickly. “I will not have my Thisavros witness my death. I can’t…I won’t…”

  “OK,” he simply says.

  I nod my head.

  “And Isadora?” Nico asks.

  My eyes inadvertently find Pisces. He holds my gaze steadily. No judgement. No condemnation. Only a serene sense of duty that feels like the inexorable ebb and flow of waves.

  “If we set the time and place, then they will come,” I say. “They’ll bring her with them. They’ll plan on using her to distract me. To weaken me. I am already at a disadvantage against my father; they will aim to make the disadvantage greater.

  “I shall not let them.”

  My gaze finds Noah. Awareness flashes behind his eyes; a vibrant green light glows with promise within them. I nod my head. He inclines his in reply.

  “There will be consequences,” Aktor says, moving us on from what has been unsaid. What must be done even if, in a different way from my father’s death blow, it will kill me to do it. “If you succeed…”

  “When you succeed,” Sonya says.

  We all stare at her. At this human that can not see Stoicheio. At this woman who we have always thought of as weaker than us.

  “When you succeed,” Aktor says with a grin at Sonya, “Pyrkagia will need some time to recover. Leaving the Pyrgos then might hinder that recovery.”

  I suck in a breath, ready to deny his words.

  He holds up a hand; wrinkled, liver spotted. The reminder of his vast age stalls the protest that forms on my lips. I have taken counsel from Aktor on many occasions; I will not stop taking his advice now. Even at the end.

  “Pyrgos must not be rebuilt,” he says in agreement. “But for one last time, we can lean on its foundation. On that which it was originally built. Athanatos. Ekmetalleftis. Aetheros.”

  I reluctantly nod my head. I may fear the outcome of the Right of Rule challenge, but I can't help dreaming of the future. And the future, my future, is not in New Zealand.

  “When I succeed,” I say, to Aktor and to all of Pyrkagia, “I will give them six months to rebuild. Six months and not a day longer. And then we will end the corruption, we will turn our back on our shame, and we will recreate ourselves in the old ways.”

  Aktor nods his head to me, then lifts his cup up in a silent toast.

  It should have been filled with ouzo. But I’d accept chicken soup.

  It’s good for the soul, as Sonya would say.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I Guess You Can Flip For It

  Casey calls me four times during the day. I end up giving the satellite phone to Nico; I can not bear knowing she is desperate to reach me and being unable to face her. If I face her now, I will cave.

  I can not cave.

  I feed my Stoicheio for most of the morning and into the afternoon. Aktor fusses with various high protein meals, but although I eat them, I do not taste them. By late afternoon Rhea has arrived from Gi. She walks across the room in the base we have commandeered, a bow slung over her shoulder, a quiver of arrows at her back; tall, regal, imposing.

  Hip walks beside her, having just offered the lightning she used in order for her and two others from Gi to get here. He keeps looking up at the Amazonian, a strange light in his eyes as he takes in her austere features.

  It would not surprise me if Rhea has royal blood. But not all those born to royalty wish to rule.

  I wonder if Rhea is one such Athanatos or whether Casey will have a battle on her hands with this woman.

  Rhea stops a few feet from me and bows low.

  “Your Highness,” she says. “It is an honour to be in Pyrkagia and to stand at the back of my Queen’s Thisavros.”

  Well, I guess that settles that, then.

  “I had not realised Cassandra had accepted the role,” I say.

  Rhea smiles; it is at once knowing and calculating and mischievous.

  “She will,” she simply says.

  I have never known Casey to do anything she didn't truly wish to do. Even the sacrifice she made to save our world and balance the Elements was an active decision on her part. Her strength of character was what enabled her to survive Genesis and the End of Days. Her loyalty and morality and humanity is what saved us all.

  I will not let her efforts be in vain.

  “Good luck,” I say to the Gi. She smiles.

  “What would you ask of me and mine, Prince of Pyrkagia?” Rhea queries.

  “Aside from your presence as witnesses?” I offer.

  She inclines her head.

  “I ask just one favour,” I say.

  Her eyes widen slightly. A favour would allow her a boon in return.

  “Go on,” she urges softly.

  I stand up and walk toward her, ensuring she sees the golden hue of my eyes. I stop when I am beside her; she facing one way, I the other. I turn my head and say, “I ask for your silence. No matter what happens on Mount Eden, no matter what you are asked by the Council, you will
remain silent.”

  Her eyes scan my face, searching for an answer.

  “If I am asked a direct question by the Council I must reply,” she points out.

  “Then reply, but do not offer them an answer.”

  “An answer? Or the answer they seek?”

  Rhea is an astute politician. I am pleased Casey will have such an ally in Gi. Especially, if I do not make it.

  I steel my resolve. I will make it. I have to make it.

  “I would not ask you to lie, Gi,” I say.

  “Just remain silent.”

  She and I both know I am asking more than that.

  “Very well, Prince of Pyrkagia. I already know what my boon will be.”

  I arch a brow at her.

  “When you succeed in your Right of Rule challenge,” she says, “I will request it.”

  I stare into her eyes. She looks back steadily. She gives nothing away, but I am sure I have read her correctly. I incline my head in acceptance of her terms. I believe working with Rhea of Gi will be very interesting.

  She wanders off to speak with her two companions, while I take a moment to ready myself for what is to come. By the end of this day, I will either be dead or be Rigas. Neither is actually a welcoming thought.

  I was raised the son of a king. Certain things were expected of me. As heir to the Pyrkagia throne, I spent thousands of hours in the pursuit of academic excellence and many times more hours in the pursuit of martial perfection. I carried a sword and knew how to use it at the age of three. By three hundred, I was considered unbeatable.

  But my father took time to ensure I knew he would always be able to beat me.

  It is with a strange sense of shock that I realise I am about to become a father, too.

  I have not had the best of role models. I am unsure if I even know how to be a parent. And then there is the fact that my father has never lost to me.

  Will I even get to see my son being born?

  I find myself approaching Aktor. I had not intended to seek my butler out. But as much as the realisation of my impending parenthood is a shock, the realisation that Aktor has been more of a father to me than my own father is not.

  “Aktor,” I say.

  He pauses in his meal preparations; perhaps the twentieth meal he has prepared today. Nico has done well sourcing foodstuffs for us, but by the end of this day, we will have nothing left. Aktor would have already cooked it.

  He turns to look up at me and must see something disquieting on my face. He takes the pot of stew he was stirring off the fire and places it safely to the side, so it does not burn. And then he moves to a seat and waits.

  I sit down beside him, unsure what it is I wish to say.

  Eventually, it comes to me.

  “Thank you,” I murmur. I don’t look at him. This is as much an acknowledgement of all he has done for me as it is a farewell. “My life would not have been nearly as full of love and joy if it were not for you, my friend. I wish to thank you and ask one last favour.”

  He does me the honour of not arguing.

  “Anything,” he says.

  “Protect her,” I manage to rasp. “Protect our child.”

  “You know I will, Theodoros.”

  “Teach him the old ways,” I say.

  “Of course.” His voice is cracking. Mine is too.

  “Let them both know they were everything to me. That they will always be everything to me. For eternity.”

  Aktor’s hand comes over to grip mine. His hold is strong, not weak. He grips my fingers for a long moment, and then he climbs from his seat.

  The sun is low in the sky, and we both look out of the open wall at one end of our shelter. Mount Eden stands in the distance. Waiting. It is time.

  I look around the room and see all of my allies, my friends, are waiting, too.

  I should offer words of encouragement. I should bolster them as if we are heading into battle. I am not unaccustomed to doing such things.

  But I can not.

  I can barely bolster myself as it is.

  A satellite phone starts to ring. All eyes turn to Nico. He looks guilty and then pulls the device from his pocket. He stares at it for a moment and then sighs.

  Lifting it to his ear, he says, “Great timing.”

  I can not hear the voice of who has called him. But, really, there can be only one person so in tune with me. Nico raises his eyes and looks directly at me and nods his head. Then realises Casey can not see the movement from Gi.

  “I’ll tell him,” he says and ends the call.

  We stare at each other. My heart is thundering. I want to know what the last words I am ever going to hear from my Thisavros are.

  I’m not sure I am strong enough to bear them.

  “Well?” I say.

  He smiles.

  “Casey says,” he announces loudly, “that the kid kicked today. That it’s been doing somersaults all evening. She woke up just now with him practising for the summer Olympics. Knocking out a tattoo against her ribs that sounded like the beat to a Russian gymnastic’s gold medal winning routine. She’s tried everything to get him to settle; drinking warm milk, eating gooseberries and cheese, stretching out some yoga.”

  I close my eyes and try not to laugh. I'm aware of a few sniggers around the room.

  “She says you should know something,” Nico advises, capturing my attention again.

  I look up at him.

  “What is that?” I ask, the words barely a whisper

  “She says, she’s doing her bit incubating the baby, so you’ll be in charge when he hits his teens.”

  I stare at my cousin, then ask, “Who looks after him in-between?”

  “I guess you can flip for it,” he offers.

  I blink.

  “Or, you know,” he adds, “you can beat the shit out of your father and go over there, and share the job with Casey.”

  I let out a deep breath and stare at the ground. Cassandra knows the chances of me winning this Right of Rule are not great. She knows this, but she doesn't question that I will succeed.

  That I’ll be there to raise our son with her. To handle the difficult years when he hits his teens. To share the good ones when he just wants a cuddle and kiss, and to know he is loved and safe and happy.

  I realise, I already know how to be a father. I already know I will be a good one.

  Because I will be nothing like my own father and everything like Aktor.

  And because I have Casey.

  She wouldn’t dare let me be anything less than the best I can be.

  And I wouldn’t dare disappoint her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Enough!

  The sun is setting when we arrive at the top of Mount Eden. Auckland CBD lies in tatters before us, behind it stands Rangitoto Island; the volcano letting off steam. The decimation around us is nothing to what will happen this evening. And yet, I can not help thinking the losses to humanity during Genesis were far more precious than the loss I plan to deliver tonight.

  My father stands in chains before two Alchemists. To the side are the Nero King and two of his children. Pisces one of them. Across the way are the Aeras. Hip, his grandfather, and the Rigas. Standing apart, but very much part of this gathering is my mother and the Council members. I note one is missing. Leon is not here, and I wonder if his absence means he plans a sneak attack.

  But at my back are one human, two Pyrkagia, and three Gi.

  In the middle of the crater kneels Isadora. She has been badly beaten, and as several hours have passed since our altercation with Mikkos, I can only assume the bruises I see on her face and arms are recent. She lifts her head and glares at Mikkos standing beside her, and then straightens her shoulders and looks at me.

  I stare into my Second’s eyes for a long moment; let her know what she means to me.

  She stares back and slowly nods her head.

  “You are missing a member,” I say in way of greeting.

  I scan the Council ra
nks, my eyes staying no longer than a second on each. I do not give my mother preferential treatment. She does not deserve it.

  “Your dog saw to that,” Mikkos growls ominously.

  He strikes out at Isadora with the back of his hand, making her lose her balance and go sprawling. She doesn't make a sound but struggles to her knees again. The motion is difficult, as her hands are bound.

  “Defence in battle is not an offence,” I say reasonably.

  “Tell that to Leon’s family,” he growls.

  My mother steps forward, her white robes pristine. Her face hard and unforgiving.

  “You will release the Rigas now,” she demands.

  “Are you in agreement that you are a full Council?” I inquire.

  My mother glances at her compatriots. I notice some do not meet her eyes.

  They are not innocent; far from it. They have supported my father and his corrupt regime for millennia. They are not without blame.

  But not all of them support my mother.

  A Right of Rule has been called, and they have come together to accept it. Regardless of whether my mother pushes for me to withdraw or not; they will back it.

  “We are a full Council,” my mother says, clearly aware of her lack of backing. “And as such,” she adds, smugly, “we pass judgement.”

  “The Right of Rule has been made,” I tell her. “You have gathered and faced it. You can not pass judgement now. The claim is in motion.”

  “Oh, yios,” she purrs, emphasising the Greek for ‘son’. “It is not the Right of Rule we judge.”

  She smirks. It is not a foreign look on my mother, but I have always believed it is one she does not wear well. As Queen, she carries herself above all others. Conceit ruins a Basilissa’s mien.

  I hold her stare with an impassive one of my own. It takes everything in me not to look at Isadora.

  “Isadora Petros,” my mother announces. “You have been found guilty of treachery. Your actions against the Council member Leon Petroulaki are considered an act against all of us.”