by T. C. Edge
I dart, once more, into the minds of the enemy men. We weren't here. You remember nothing. Close the shield as soon as we've passed through. Tell the patrol that there's nothing to report. Then...forget it all.
I sense the orders taking hold, the shield fading out completely. I nod to Marcus, who swiftly begins leading Rhoth and the Fangs out of the camp. I follow, glancing back. A smile builds on my face as I see the shield reappearing, doing so just in time as the patrol begins to meander into view.
But before they can see us escaping into the woods, we're gone, slipping back into the shadows, completing a fine night's work.
Only when we've moved far enough away, does Marcus stop me, turning me towards him. He shakes his head, marvelling. "You see," he says, smiling. "Didn't I say you'd be able to get in and out without anyone noticing? Not such an impossible challenge after all, huh?"
I smile, weary after the night's events, and yet emboldened by them too. "Well, technically, people noticed. I just..."
"Took it away," Marcus finishes. "You're a magician, Brie Melrose. A...beautiful witch."
I raise my eyes.
"Er, that didn't come out right," he mumbles. "How about mage? Or...enchantress? Better?"
"Better."
"Good," he says, stepping forward, leaning in. "But, really, it was the beautiful part I wanted you to notice."
He makes as if he's going to kiss me, and for a second, just a split second, I feel myself drawn in.
I pull back at the last moment, realising what they hell I'm doing.
"I...I have a husband, Marcus," I say, thoughts of Adryan rushing into my mind. "A husband I love."
He nods, his expression almost sombre and serious. And then, as is his way, a smile flourishes on his face. Not a real one, but something contrived. Something to cover his disappointment. His embarrassment and shame.
"I know, I know," he says quickly. "I'm sorry. I got caught in the moment, that's all."
I nod, some of the excitement of the evening drawn out of me.
"Let's just forget this ever happened, OK?" he says. "You know me, can't take anything too seriously. Just thought you looked particularly...pretty tonight." He softens his voice again, and turns his eyes away.
"Thank you, Marcus," I say. "I do enjoy fighting with you. You've become a good friend to me."
He looks back at me, nodding. "And you me, Brie," he says.
A short silence falls between us, the skies still lighting occasionally with the continued bombardment, dawn just beginning to creep up onto the horizon.
He looks towards the city, the eastern gate, which we ventured through hours before, just ahead. There, Rhoth and the Fangs wait, set to return to the city once more, with an army closing in outside its doors.
"We should get back," Marcus says. "I think we both need some rest."
We move off, a strange energy between us, an awkwardness that I'm sure will pass. I know Marcus's type, excited by the next shiny object. Here, in this foreign city, and with my beguiling powers and abilities, that just happens to be me.
And yet, when we pass through the gate, I can't help but feel a slight sense of dread at facing what's to come.
My grandmother, whose own orders I circumvented.
Adryan, whose trust I almost broke.
And whose love for me, I know, can only stretch so far.
17
Brie
I stand before the small, old, and yet vastly commanding presence of my grandmother, awaiting the inevitable rebuke.
Up here, in her Presidential office, the view around the centre of Inner Haven is quite stunning, presenting a full picture of the square below, coming alive as morning blooms.
Across the way, the City Guard HQ is visible, its current number of occupants now increased by several. Only minutes ago, I watched with a tear in my weary eye, as Rhoth reunited with West, drawing the young man into his arms, thanking the sun and the stars that he still lived.
It was a special moment for me, nothing but a bystander, looking on. The joy of an adopted father and son finding one another again, when everything around them is falling apart.
They'll come back, I know they will, but I do wonder how much more they can take. Will the Fangs soon cease to exist? Will their numbers eventually become so few that the future of their tribe becomes unsustainable?
"Well, Brie," comes the voice of my grandmother, snapping me from my thoughts. I stand ahead of her, hands behind my back, body to attention. "It seems that you've had a busy night."
I hold my form, acting all official. Our relationship has evolved now, splitting into its component parts. In times of peace, in quiet moments, she is just, well, grandma to me. The sweet, yet stern old woman whom I love dearly, the last proper family I have left. In times of war, in official meetings, things are quite different. She is the President. I am a soldier, the loosely titled 'Protector of Haven'.
And whether her granddaughter or not, I am to be treated as such.
"I thought it was worth a go," I say, implacable in my beliefs. "If we'd run into trouble, then we'd have turned right back. There was no real risk at all..."
She stares at me. Her greying eyes can be so cold sometimes. "Do you really believe that, Brie?"
I find myself withering a little under that gaze. "Yes," I say, holding firm. "Well...at least until we got into the camp." I lift my chin. "But I assure you, President Orlando, we were in complete control the entire time."
"Yes," she murmurs. "We..."
The door knocks at that moment, and the President turns her gaze towards it.
"Come in," she says.
Adryan enters, dressed smartly as always, pacing forward with that firm step of his. I don't know what it is, but he seems more robotic these last couple of days. I don't know if it's merely the comparison with Marcus, all balance and guile, but Adryan has taken on a metronomic manner recently that I thought he'd abandoned entirely.
He looks to me as he walks in, though doesn't do much more than that. I feel a stab of hurt at that, a strange sense of abandonment. He's like this every time I go out to fight. Distant. Cold. It always takes a day or two to pass, the subject of my adventures rarely spoken about between us.
He just can't get on board with it. This purpose I've taken upon myself. Ever since I came back from my journey to the north with Kira, my eyes opened to the true perils and threats of the world, he's struggled to deal with my obsession, as he calls it, in keeping this city safe.
And now, here we are, at the culmination of it all. My obsession marching on our lands. Adryan's worst fears realised.
Like the relationship with my grandmother, Adryan and my marriage has taken a similar turn. Sometimes, we're little more than colleagues, offering no more than passing glances across the office. And though he tries to fight it, tries to accept it, and even tells me he can, I know that isn't the case.
He can't, and never will be able to.
And just where does that leave us?
He moves in, placing a few files on the President's desk, his eyes showing signs of fatigue. It's possible he didn't sleep last night, wondering where I was, worrying I'd done something stupid. I didn't tell him, of course, that I was heading off on another mission. I don't see the point anymore, knowing he'd only shut down, or try to persuade me otherwise.
I may be tough now. I may have seen a lot. But still, the young woman inside me hates to see him look at me like that. Hates it when he does't come and hug me, kiss me, tell me it's all going to be OK, when I step back through the door after a fight.
"Sit down, Adryan," says the President. "Brie was just updating me on her excursions last night. I suppose you've heard already that she took it upon herself to save Rhoth and the Fangs, despite my express order to do nothing of the sort."
Adryan nods, his entire posture lacking any energy, his voice dour as he speaks. "I heard," he says. Those eyes, they look at me with such disappointment. Wondering...why didn't you tell me? Why do you have to be li
ke this?
"So, you had company with you?" says the President. "I will immediately assume that it was the young Neoroman captain by your side. I'm not surprised he was willing to help. The boy has an insatiable appetite for war."
I glance at Adryan. I see the jealousy again, the budding feeling of hopelessness welling within him. I look at him and smile, try to set his mind at ease. There's nothing going on between us, that smile says. I would never betray you, Adryan. Not really...
"It was his idea, actually," I tell the President. I don't exactly want to put Marcus in it, but frankly, it's the truth. And he's here under the command of Ares, not my grandmother. She has no real say over what he does.
"Was it really?" she muses.
"We did it for West," I say. "And we took all precautions to make sure we were safe and in control at all times. You...you should have seen me, grandma," I say, breaking protocol, becoming, for a moment, just a girl seeking the approval of a grandmother she loves, excited by her blossoming powers. "I got through their defences, into the cells, and out with Rhoth and his men without anyone even knowing. Marcus helped, of course, but I...I controlled people. Multiple people at once. From afar. It was...amazing."
"Caution, Brie," cracks her old voice, coming with a tone that douses my flames, washes away my excitement. "I've warned you before not to overstretch. You put yourself in great danger going to that camp. I know you care for Rhoth and his men, but it was foolish to even attempt it. You could have been killed, or captured, and just what good would that do? You want to leave Adryan behind without a wife? You want me to suffer the passing of another - my final - family member?" She shakes her head, showing some emotion at least. "We love you, Brie. It comes from a place of caring when we question you on these things. You are pushing too far, too fast. It will only end in tears..."
"It won't," I counter, refusing to accept it. "I was in complete control the entire time. You don't need to worry. I have Zander there, helping me. He's always there to guide me..."
My grandmother lets out a soft, mournful sigh. "Zander?" she whispers. "Brie, not this again."
"What do you mean again? There's no again about it. He's always been there, ever since he died. I just don't talk to you about it because I know you'll react like this."
"React like what, Brie?" she says, calmly, but with eyes that show a measure of hurt. Good. At least I'm getting through to her now. "I am merely trying to understand you. You say that Zander is with you, that he helped you when you had to escape the mental clutches of Herald Nestor. But, then you go quiet on the matter, never being clear about exactly what's happening with you. I just...don't understand it. I wish you'd explain it to me properly."
"I can't!" I say, with some passion. "OK! I can't explain it properly because I don't understand it myself. I know you always like everything to be ordered and logical, but some things just aren't like that. I'm still trying to figure it out myself, but...but I don't feel like I'm getting any support."
"Darling, you will always have our support," she says. Her eyes turn to Adryan, who nods silently. "We love you, and want to help you. You just need to be honest with us."
I take a long breath, trying to calm myself. Now really isn't the time for this discussion. There's too much on my mind. Too many things battling for attention in my head. I just need to be alone for a while, sleep, and see if I can get everything ordered.
"I am being honest," I eventually whisper. "It's just...hard, trying to tell you about these things. I'm trying to figure them out for myself, and there's just so much...pressure here." I turn my eyes down. "That's why I visit with Artemis. It's not because he can help me any more than either of you, it's just that he's...separated from all this. There's no baggage. It's...simple."
I feel a sudden fatigue beginning to spread through me, and step over to take a seat by the wall. The room falls to a short silence as I do so. When I raise my eyes, I find my grandmother, and Adryan, glancing at one another anxiously.
"What is it?" I ask, sensing a problem. My mind works to find one, but remains too jumbled, too fraught, to work effectively right now.
"It's...Artemis," says the President gently.
My body perks up. "What? Did you go and fetch him?"
She doesn't nod or shake her head. "We sent a team," she starts, "during the raids last night. It seems...well it seems that we ran into some trouble."
I narrow my gaze. "What sort of trouble?"
"Enemy troops," she tells me, shaking her head. "It seems they got there first. They must have discovered the REEF during their reconnaissance of the area. There was a short firefight and..."
"And?" I ask, hardly breathing.
"They took him, Brie," says Adryan bluntly, finishing for my grandmother. "Only an hour or two ago. Our men tried to follow but were held back and outnumbered. I'm sorry. Director Cromwell is with the enemy now."
I clench my jaw. "With the enemy? What exactly does that mean?"
"It means whatever you want it to mean," he says, his words coming out quite bitterly. "Maybe he was taken prisoner. Maybe he has defected to their side. Either way, he might well prove to be a great asset for them."
"I know, Adryan," I growl. "I already said that before!" I turn my eyes on my grandmother. "I told you to fetch him. I warned that this would happen. How many more times are you going to ignore me?!"
"We did fetch him. We...tried..."
"Too late!" I shout. "Why did you wait so long? He was the one person who understood me, who I could talk to. And now he's gone too." I look up, turning to the window as the morning grows brighter. "We have to get him back," I say, my voice filling with determination. "We'll arrange another breakout. I got in before, I'll be able to get in again..."
"You won't, Brie," says Adryan flatly. "You've played your hand and now they're fully aware of it. They'll be tightening up their security for sure. There's no way you're going back out there."
"And who's going to stop me? You?"
"Brie..."
"No, you never want me doing anything," I say, everything flooding out of me now, my filter abandoning me. "I've got a gift, and all I'm trying to do is use it for good. But you're too selfish to let me..."
"Selfish?" he says, his own voice simmering. "When do I ever try to stop you doing anything? I never say a word when you rush off on one of your missions, do I? I don't stop you or question it, or..."
"Or anything," I say. "You say nothing, Adryan! You just turn cold and distant, because you can't deal with who I am."
"Maybe I can't," he returns, his chest starting to heave. "I didn't expect this when I fell in love with you, Brie. I didn't expect you to turn into this person."
"What person? I only want to help others. Is that so bad..."
"By killing, Brie!" he shouts. "You have become a soldier, a killer. That's how you help people. You've become obsessed with war like your brother was..."
"Don't speak of him," I growl. "You didn't even know him, not properly. You don't know what it's like."
"No, I don't. And that's the problem, isn't it. You're out there fighting with the likes of Marcus, laughing and joking while you fight and kill, like it means nothing. You're losing yourself, Brie. You're not the same person anymore."
My lips begin to tremble as I try to retort, deny his words. But nothing comes out. There's...nothing.
Because he's right.
"OK, you both need to take a breath," says my grandmother, trying to bring some measure of control back into the room. "Maybe you should take a time out. Adryan, you've got work to do. Brie, you need to rest. You can talk about this another time. We have..."
"You're right, Madam President," whispers Adryan, cutting in. His silver eyes lift up, looking across at me. "Perhaps we should take a time out. Maybe we need a break."
My eyebrows lower, closing in a little tighter. "A break," I say. "That's what you want? A break from...us?"
He drops his eyes to the floor, the room suddenly calm and still. "Maybe it'
s for the best," he whispers. "We we can't go on like this, Brie. I...I can't go on like this. "
Behind my armour, and my chest beneath, I feel a terrible ache settling in my heart. I stare at him, hardly believing his words. Hating them, and suddenly hating him, even though a part of me, a large part of me, understands.
I don't let that painful throb drive me. I don't let it work up to my face. I don't let him see.
It's anger, instead, that I draw up from within. Anger as I look at him, this man I love, telling me he might not want to be with me anymore. That he cannot accept me for who I've become.
I just stare at him, controlling myself, fighting the temptation to climb into his head, do unspeakable things, make him hurt like he's hurting me.
But...I know I don't need to. He is hurting. I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. This is the desperate work of a man driven to the edge, trying, with one last effort, to bring the woman he loves back from the brink.
He's making me choose, I think. Between him and the people. Between us and my duty, my purpose, my life.
It is a battle he cannot win.
"You can keep the apartment," I say, standing from my chair. "I don't plan to be there much anyway. Too busy...killing."
I know the words are spiteful, perhaps even immature, but I don't care right now. And before he can respond, before my grandmother can speak, I march straight out of the room, leaving my husband behind.
18
Kira
"You think Lucius will win the senate over?" I whisper, my eyes gazing out towards the calm waters of the Mediterranean as the boat speeds along, all but bouncing upon the tops of the light, rippling waves.
By my side, Dom takes a sip of wine, leaning back as he lies on a comfortable chair on the private deck of the main cabin. His eyes stare up at the stars, so staggering bright tonight, clustering together in wondrous groups upon the black canvass above.
"I don't know," he answers, letting out a sigh. "He'll try, I'm sure. He promised me that. Whether he'll be able to outvote Tiberius and his followers is another matter."
