His heart dropped a bit and his steps became more measured the closer he got to the front entrance. There were way too many of them just to be a casual gathering, and the way they stirred to life with his approach was probably not a good sign. The tension strung itself tight in a matter of seconds, but he kept his path and eyes straight ahead.
"You're late." A deep voice grumbled.
He couldn't place it off hand, but as long as it wasn't his father’s he didn't care. That is, he didn’t care until a rough hand clamped around his arm and whipped him around. His eyes took a moment to focus and his voice caught in his developing dread.
"Did you hear me?" the voice and hand belonged to Illean, his father’s self appointed right-hand man. "Let's get one thing straight, pipsqueak. This may be your house, but it's our home. You may not think the rules apply to you but you're wrong." Illean breathed every word onto him like it was a curse. "Your misbehavior reflects badly on your father and what reflects badly upon him is passed right down to us. This army needs to thrive and it can't do that if even one of us falters. Those faults will make the foundation crumble."
Al stood as tall as he could and gave his best smile, "Well, my large friend, as much as I appreciate your attempt at a somewhat rough analogy, I should mention that if being a few hours late means the destruction of your foundation, then I would put a little more investment into the type of land you're building on."
Illean stood with a confounded look for a moment. It was the perfect opportunity to escape as the large oaf was processing his words.
He had only attempted a few steps towards the door before he heard one of the other muscle heads start to call out, but if the noise had formed words he missed it since all sound became silence the instant Illean’s fist slammed into the small of his back. His knees buckled and he stumbled. He quickly thanked the Havens for his backpack which he was able to use as a counter weight to stay on his feet.
"You can't hit me," he started, still in shock.
His answer was an elbow to the face.
"He's so little I don't even know how to fight him." The words came between a fit of jolly laughter which was matched with a chorus of roaring amusement that rose up from the small crowd.
Al hit the dirt this time. Pain radiated from the center of his face and the warm gush that accompanied it. He got a leg under him and tried to stand only to be pushed back down. It took every ounce of self restraint he had to not fight back - his punishment for damaging any of his father’s men, would be much worse than any beating those minions could deliver.
"Who would have thought the General would have such a pansy for a kid." One of them chided. "He must get that from his mother."
Al sucked in his breath and held it. He forced himself to stand, tensing for the next attack. The whole situation reeked of his fathers meddling. This had to be some sort of twisted intervention.
A foot kicked at the back of his knee and he found his hands back on the ground once again. Illean stood in front of him, pushing him into a sitting position with a muck encrusted boot.
"No," he said as a long, thin smile spread itself over his pock-marked face. "Telics aren’t weak," he knelt down and let his cold eyes stare straight into Al's. "They're just cowards."
The heat of anger spread into his veins, but he fought it back. Illean saw it, as if he could smell anger like an animal could smell fear.
A few of the others had begun backing away at the mentioning of Telics, but Illean leaned in closer. "Yes, I know all about your tainted blood."
The rest of the crowd backed off quickly as he rose to his feet. "I think he's learned his lesson. Let's get out of here." One of the goons said with a touch of nervousness to his voice.
What were once just rumors of his heritage were now fact in the eyes of all that stood around him.
The air around them shifted from a menacing one to one of fear and unease as he rose slowly to his feet, his glare locked onto Illeans.
"I disagree," Illean snarled. "I don't think he's heard a word we've said," He cocked his head to the side, "He can't hear us through his perfect, little, chattering teeth."
Al turned away from him, the crowd parted and he marched once again towards the front door.
"You see? His first instinct is still to run away from a challenge...just like his mother."
Al turned, his vision shifting into the eyes of a Telic. The colors of the world around him became rich and deep as light illuminated life and the strings of energy that flowed and twisted around him became a tangible river of control.
“You need to learn some respect.” Illean shouted, swinging his fist once again at Al’s face.
It was more reflex than intention that he dodged, and more instinct than spite that his arm lashed out and landed a hit square in the center of Illean’s guts. With his Telic energy left unchecked and flowing freely, the small hit sent Illean flying back into the arms of his cronies.
Dread burned its way quickly through his brief satisfaction. His father would be furious if he found out he had hit one of his men. Al suppressed his energy in preparation of Illean’s retaliation.
“You little punk!” Illean raged forward his fist raised high into the air.
“Oi!” A voice rang out across the yard.
Illean skidded to a halt, and turned in time with the rest of the group gathered towards the courtyard’s entrance. Outsiders rarely walked this far down the road and any that did would know better then to stop in front the Kane estate.
Al craned his neck to see. It was Con.
“This doesn’t concern you boy, keep moving.” Illean waved him away, turning his back towards him.
“A bunch of grown men bullying a little kid is certainly a concern to me,” A sly look turned up the corners of his mouth, “As I am sure it will be to the authorities as well.”
Illean’s ugly face twisted up into a repulsive glower as he fought for actual words to fill in the gaps between his spit-laced stutters of rage.
“You all right, Al?” Con called over to him.
“I’m fine.” Al raised a hand over to him, hoping to the highest Haven that he would just leave.
“You know this brat?” Illean pointed a stubby finger towards Con.
Con wrapped his long fingers slowly around the bars of the gate. Darkness had crossed his sunny face, “Keep pointing that finger at me and I will break it off.” His words came out smooth and calm – it was enough to make even Al shudder.
“Just go home, Con. I’m fine.” Al shouted over, backing up towards the door. “Thanks for stopping by.”
Con’s eyes drilled directly onto Illeans face, and Illean was just standing there, his arms had gone slack at his sides.
“I’m going in the house now.” Al kept backing up till he hit the stairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Al stopped halfway up the stairs and looked back. Con was gone and Illean was now up at the gate, his club-like hands on the bars.
Good. For a moment he thought Con might try and start something. There was just something about that guy, something he had seen before in his father, and sometimes in Sky – there was a distinct hunger behind that smile, a thirst for chaos.
“Allen!” A voice shouted the second the door closed behind him.
Sonya, his fathers real second in command, rushed towards him. She was an exotic, black haired Agonian. Powerful, beautiful, mysterious and…beautiful. His mood lifted just slightly as she sprinted around the corner; her eyes more desperate then he had ever seen them.
She grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him up and down. Without a word she shoved him aside and threw open the door.
“Sonya?” He watched her scan the yard. He peeked around her, to see the gathering outside had dispersed, those that remained looked distant and confused.
Sonya slammed the heavy door with a snarl. She turned quickly and sighed to calm herself before giving her attention to Al. “Allen, did you know that boy out there?”
Al lea
ned against one of the pillars that bordered the foyer. “Con? Yeah, he’s from school. He’s Sky’s mentor for the Axis program.”
“Why was he here?” She almost looked worried, but kept most of her expression locked away behind a mask of rigidity.
She must have been watching from the conference room on the third level. So did that mean she had seen what was happening before Con showed up? “I don’t know, just out for a stroll maybe.”
“Stay away from that boy, do you hear me. He is very dangerous.”
“You’re joking, right?” He laughed, letting some of the spite he felt into his words. “He’s a friend of Sky’s. And a classmate.”
“That was Con Embers,” She said slowly, “One of the Powers. There is no legitimate reason he would either be a student here, or your friend.”
“He’s part of Axis, like I said.” Al didn’t like her tone, but was too distracted by the way her hair was falling perfectly around her face to be angry.
She moved too hastily for him to react and he found himself nearly nose to nose with her, looking into her dark eyes with her hand clenched firmly onto his face.
“If you ever see that boy again, run. And then come find me.”
Al nodded. Her sincerity would have caused him some concern if he wasn’t so distracted by the fact that she was touching his face. “Sure.” He lied.
She let go and stood to her full height, regaining her frightening presence. “Be careful, Allen. The only place you are truly safe is here.” She turned back to the door, but paused before opening it and gave a glance back at him, “It’s always safer to assume the worst and trust no one outside these walls. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” But that didn’t make him believe it.
“You should stay home from school tomorrow,” She looked him in the eye once again, “I need to find out what’s going on.”
Al shrugged. He didn’t know why she was always so serious. “I already told you-”
She turned again, heaving open the door. “Allen. He’s a Power.”
“You’ve said that twice now, like I know what that is.” Al looked around her again into the courtyard.
“I thought you knew everything.” She almost smiled. “The Powers are weapons. Nothing more. And that one, he obeys only one master and that master obeys no one. Not anymore.” She warned.
He put his weight back on the pillar, trying to understand what she had just said.
“Clean yourself up, Allen.” She ordered. “Your face is a mess.” And with that she was out the door and slammed it shut behind her.
Al stared at the closed door and left with a mocking salute. He started off towards his room, his mood growing increasingly fouler with each step. He made a point to slam every door that stood in his way and kick whatever debris happened to be in his path.
How fitting that the only person that dared to raise a hand against the meatheads attacking him was Con, who was now apparently some sort of evil super power thing. What a load. They would literally say anything to keep him away from people with strong wills and opinions that didn’t match their own. It’s why they hated Sky so much.
Al slammed the door to his room, the one painting that was hanging on his wall went crashing to the ground. He wiped the blood still making its way out from his nose and stumbled towards the bathroom. Taking off his shirt he decided that the amount of blood and dirt on it was beyond help and the only place it would do any good was the trash.
He successfully avoided the mirror and turned the water on as hot as it would go and watched the steam rise up from the cold white stone.
Emotions were never looked upon with anything other than disdain in their twisted little family. Al could count on one hand the times he had been allowed to cry. This was a moment that he really wanted to add another finger to that count. To just break down, to feel sorry for himself and his poor broken nose. But, in the end, he had known it was coming. He had been careless on the rules ever since he had started at the Academy. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but he also could have prevented it.
Cupping his hands he began filling them with the scalding water before drowning his face in them. The clear water ran with red for an instant before swirling down the drain.
The steam had clouded the mirror by the time his eyes drifted up to meet his own gaze. Through the haze he could see the dark purple that had spread itself across his face. Most would be gone by morning, but not all of it. The most logical thing to do was stay home from school tomorrow like Sonya had said. There was no way he would let anyone see him like this.
Al finished cleaning up and dried off his face and hands, reassuring himself that tomorrow would be a great day. He could hide all day in his room and research. It was all for the better. He would almost prefer a day of exciting investigation over another series of long lectures.
A knock at the door shook him from his musing. He stood frozen, staring at the door. The knock came again and drove him back a few steps. He didn’t remember locking the door, he was actually quite sure he hadn’t. There was no one else in the entire compound that would have any reason to come to his room. Unless, of course, he had punched that someone in the guts and run away.
He waited there, unable to move for a few moments. After finding that his legs did indeed still work he walked slowly and quietly towards the door, letting his breath out slowly with each step.
There was some rustling behind the door, and then silence. Pressing his ear up against the thick wood, he could hear the steady rhythm of someone breathing.
“Who is it?” He made himself say, trying to mask the fear in his voice with annoyance.
“My name is O’Riley, Sir. I work in the kitchen.”
Al knew the name, he cracked the door open and squinted an eye through.
“I’m incredibly sorry to bother you, Sir.” The man shifted uncomfortably, “But, well, I have something for you.”
Al cautiously opened the door. The man had worked for them for years, he was middle aged, balding and one of the jollier fellows on the lot, so it was strange seeing him so unnerved.
“What is it?” After the nights events Al had no idea what to expect.
“A man gave this to me and asked me to give it to you. Or, at least, I think that’s what happened. It feels like I dreamed the whole thing, but then there is no explaining where I got this here box.” The man held out his hands and presented Al with a small wooden box.
“A man? What did he look like?”
“Apologies, Sir, but I don’t really remember. He was tall, maybe, and dressed in black.”
“Thank you, O’Riley.” Al nodded and took the little box with shaking hands. “Take the rest of the night off, okay.”
O’Riley’s eyes lit up, “Oh, thank you, Sir! I’m not feeling like myself, that’s for sure.”
Al forced a smile, “It’s been a strange night for all of us, I think.” He nodded his thanks again and shut the door gently.
His whole body shook as he walked the tiny treasure across the room. “What in the realms is going on?” He whispered to himself. He closed his eyes and slumped down onto his bed. He had seen the box before. He knew exactly what it was and exactly what was in it.
He ran his fingers over the intricately carved wood. His eyes came open as he lifted the lid and slid his fingers around the cool metal of his mom’s locket. His eye’s shut tight again as he let his head sink down onto the pillow. The world melted away until all that was left was a young man that missed his mom. The burning behind his eyes was too much to hold back. His body and heart hurt and for the first time in his short life, Al let himself cry himself to sleep.
Chapter Nineteen
“Help!” Sara screamed as they rounded the corner, she could see the dull illumination of the transport stop. “Officer, please!”
She could see the heap of blankets shift around and sit up. Good, he had heard her. She tightened her grip around Sky’s arm and dragged him onward. He hadn’t said one
word in protest; he had just let her lead him blindly. “Keep your eyes closed, we’re almost there.”
He nodded weakly; she hoped to the Havens he wouldn’t pass out before they got to the stop.
“Is the transport there?” Sky didn’t even try to mask the desperation in his voice.
“Yeah, it’s there, and so is the officer. We’re gonna be fine.” She pulled him closer to her.
“Your uncle, is he a True Blood?” He asked, as if coming to a realization.
“No,” She lied. “He’s my dad’s half brother.” There was no way she was risking their lives for that man, and she couldn’t take the chance that Sky would suggest going back for him.
“What’s going on here?” The officer was standing, but still looked half asleep. “Is that blood?” His barely open eyes must have made it over to Sky.
“I’m fine,” Sky stood up straight and shook her off his arm, but kept his eyes shut tight. “We just need to get on the transport, Sara, come on.”
“What are you on, son, that would make you think you’re all right?” He looked between them again and then let his eyes drift to behind them, slowly reaching under his rags.
“There were thuggers out there, they attacked us and he got stabbed, we got to get to the city, now!” She pulled Sky toward the transport that lay rumbling just a few feet away.
The officer pulled his weapon, and aimed it directly at them.
“What are you doing?” She put herself between Sky and the lectro club.
The officer stepped at her, but she held her ground.
“Move.” He hissed at her.
“They’re out there!” She pleaded to him, pointing out into the street, “They were after us.”
He shoved her out of the way and drove his club into Sky’s belly. Sky’s shout from the electrocution was cut short by the club end slamming into his temple.
“Stop!” She screamed, diving for the officer’s arm.
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