by Matt King
“You must be surprised to receive this,” Tamaril said. He looked and sounded like he was annoyed to be alive. The exact opposite of Cerenus. “I must say, I’m surprised to be sending it. I never thought any of us would make it to this position.”
Cerenus listened with his back to the group. The wind through his cape was the only thing about him to move.
“I made a guess as to where you were located now. I hope I’m right, and I hope Amara doesn’t receive this message instead. If she does—well, I suppose this was all in vain.” Tamaril paused as though picturing the consequences. “Meryn, I’m addressing this to you. You know me as well as anyone—as well as I’ve allowed anyone to know me, anyway. You know my allegiances are more complicated than following Amara’s dogma. Until now, I’ve stayed out of this war, in large part due to my disagreement with war between the Circle as a whole, but Amara forced us to take sides. I admit that I chose to side with her because I felt your chances were slim, even with Paralos to aid you. It appears I was wrong.”
August looked to Meryn, whose eyes studied Tamaril’s image. Maybe he was reading her wrong, but he thought he saw some vindication in her stare.
Tamaril glanced side to side before continuing. “Anemolie and Galan have been watching me closely. I have to be brief. To that point: If you’ll have me, I’m offering to enter this war on your side.”
“You were right,” Bear whispered to Meryn.
She broke her gaze long enough to smile at him.
Tamaril continued. “Even without Paralos, you’ve managed to out-maneuver Amara and her allies. It has been an impressive sight to witness. I hope you will allow my armies to help you turn the tide against her once and for all, before she destroys us all to chase her delusions. If you receive this message and you will accept my help, send a party to meet me in the Void as soon as possible. I trust it goes without saying that it cannot be you or Soraste. Amara will sense our meeting and the element of surprise will be lost. Should I have to escape before your champions get there, I’ll leave a message with my new location.”
He ended the transmission with a tense nod toward the camera before the backdrop fell away. Ion retreated to the group again.
“The Void,” August repeated. “What’s that?”
“One of the unclaimed worlds,” Meryn answered. “Tamaril took it on as a project. It was home to a civilization that disappeared suddenly. None of us could figure out why.”
“What of his offer?” Aeris asked. “Do you believe him?”
Meryn nodded. “I do.” It was the first time since August had known her that she’d showed so much confidence in a decision. It was like she had been waiting for this day to come.
“Of all the mistakes you’ve made in this war, Meryn, this is your biggest,” Cerenus said, rejoining the group. His face looked flush.
“Relax,” August said. “Cut her some slack.”
“You know better than anyone what her naive actions can bring. You’re telling me you support this decision?”
“The decision is mine,” Aeris said. “She only offers her opinion.”
“Then let me offer one myself,” Cerenus said. “He is playing Meryn for a fool, and you’re going along with it. The only part of his message I believe is that he was waiting to see which side was stronger before he joined, but I assure you, he made his choice long ago.”
“That was before we had you,” August said.
“Don’t you see? That’s when he made his choice. Tamaril believes he’s my better in every way. If I had chosen to back Amara, he would be here at your side now. He sees this as an opportunity to put me in my place.”
“Not every action in this war is a reaction to you,” Meryn said. “We need him, especially in light of the new champion you fought today.”
“I can handle that one.”
“What new champion?” Aeris asked.
Ion hovered beside the Horsemen. “A man in a mirrored mask. Someone at least as powerful as Cerenus. Perhaps more. Tamaril may be able to give some insight as to his origin, if not some aid in defeating him.”
Cerenus let his mouth hang open as he studied the faces of the Alliance. Finally, he scoffed. “I can see your minds are made up. Far be it from me to get in the way of a good suicide.”
Meryn addressed Aeris. “There is no danger with meeting him. He cannot hurt any of you.”
August didn’t envy Aeris as she weighed the decision. The offer of another god’s help was too needed not to at least check out. Then again, they knew nothing about this man or his intentions. From the day the war started, he’d been on the sidelines, albeit on the other team’s sidelines. Aeris looked to Meryn the longest. The goddess nodded toward her.
“We will send a small team to meet him,” Aeris said.
“I’ll go,” Bear offered.
Aeris shook her head. “Not this time. I want August to go.”
August startled when he heard his name. The group looked at him. “Are we sure about this? I’ve never claimed to be the ambassador type.”
“I trust your judgment. And I trust Cerenus’s.”
The godclone snorted. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be doing this.”
“You’re only going to talk,” she said. “Assess his intentions, both of you. We will keep the synapse open during your meeting. If you feel like he means us harm, you come back through.”
“You’re taking a big chance,” he said.
“It is a chance we have to take. We may not have many options left to win this war without him.”
Maybe it’s because they already knew it to be true, but hearing her say the words left a cloud hanging over everyone, including August. He glanced over to Cerenus, whose gold eyes looked hard back at him.
August turned to Aeris. “We should go if we’re going.”
The Horsemen walked over to stand behind him.
“I think she just meant us to go, fellas,” he said.
The brothers didn’t budge.
“They should go with you,” Aeris said. “I doubt you would be able to convince them otherwise.”
August looked at each of the Horsemen’s black masks, which were all trained on him. He clapped his hands. “All right then. Let’s go get ourselves a new recruit.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Amara barely registered the arrival of Galan and Anemolie in their pure forms. Her gaze was fixed on the small cluster of galaxies well beyond where she had called for the last meeting of the Circle. She could sense a surge of energy in the distant cluster that she hadn’t felt since Meryn was born into their order.
Meryn. It was difficult to think of her former friend, of how she had raised the fledgling god and guided her through the difficult stages of eternal life. Meryn was one of the few Amara longed to share a new life with in Ascension. The pain of her betrayal was a lasting wound, one she would carry with her into the new world.
She focused again on the faint cluster of galaxies. And now perhaps another wound to match it.
Anemolie swelled in power to make her presence known. “I hope we have not kept you waiting.”
“You have not come with news of victory,” Amara said without looking back.
“My Lady,” Galan began. It was a tone of voice she’d heard once too often from him, contrite and defeated.
“Not here,” she said, cutting him off.
Without giving a hint to their destination, she set off through the stars, traveling the familiar paths without fear of losing her way. She knew every corner of the universe—every hotbed of life and every barren stretch of dead space. Her target was one of the empty worlds where she could listen to the excuses of her sycophants among scenery that better matched her mood.
As soon as she closed in on the world, she gathered herself into her human vessel. She sensed Anemolie and Galan do the same. They landed on the apex of a mountain angry with fire. She felt it fitting for the conversation they were about to have.
Anemolie was the first to speak.
“Lady Amara, Tamaril—”
“After all your claims the Tria would bring an end to this war, you have the gall to begin explaining your failure by blaming someone else.”
“No,” the yellow-eyed god said. She hesitated, wanting to continue but instead switching to the words she surely hated to utter. “What I meant to say was that The Tria failed to accomplish their task.”
“Tell her why,” Galan said. The red slits of his eyes looked alive at the thought of seeing his rival walk down the road he knew all too well.
“I would not want to rob this meeting of the excitement over learning the cause of your newest failure,” she said.
Amara took a step forward. “The Tria,” she said. “What of them?”
Anemolie let her stare linger on Galan before she answered. “Mordric temporarily lost control of Tiale.”
“Control is not temporary. You either have it, or you do not.”
“I assure you, my Lady—”
“Spare me your promises. They mean no more to me than this one’s.” She turned to Galan. “I gave you Talus for your mission and you have come back to me empty-handed again?”
The spark in his eyes deadened.
Amara turned her back to them and faced the open mouth of the mountain. Waves of heat warped the air. In truth, her anger wasn’t entirely due to their failures. Michael also weighed heavily on her mind. He and Paralos. She had assumed Michael would fall back into the fold once he realized what Paralos’s intentions were. Instead, he’d made the choice to stay, and now she faced her own choice.
“There is news of Tamaril,” Anemolie said. She spoke with more hesitation this time.
More treachery? Amara reached out with her mind and stoked the fires of the mountain. Small columns of liquid magma shot into the air. “What of him?” she said finally.
“He’s gone.”
Amara let the fires die down again. “He cannot be gone.”
“She means he’s left to join Meryn,” Galan said. “Allegedly.”
“It’s true,” Anemolie continued. “I intercepted a message from one of the unclaimed worlds.”
“And you are sure it was from him?” Amara asked.
“Who else could it be from?” Anemolie replied. As soon as she saw Amara’s eyes bear down on her, she quickly scrambled for words. “I only mean that I knew it came from a god, and I assumed it would not be from Paralos. Its origin was The Void.”
Tamaril’s project. This time the fire rose within her. She once again cut her eyes to the heavens, looking beyond the veil of the world to the stars beyond and her champion living as a new god among them.
“You have no idea what was in the message,” Galan said.
Anemolie scoffed. “He shielded it so no one but Meryn could read it. Do you need more proof of his guilt?”
“It might have been a threat. We would have sensed his intentions before this if what you say is true.”
“You act as though you never met Tamaril. He would no more threaten someone than start a war. He is a scheming traitor whose allegiance falls to whomever is winning.”
Amara faced them again. “Can either of you claim to be different?”
Galan and Anemolie traded silent looks.
“This war ends now,” Amara said. The decision came quickly and without hesitation. She no longer needed to gaze toward the stars to know her path. Pyra had made it clear to her long ago. She had only delayed the inevitable. “Find Meryn. Give her an ultimatum to meet our armies and champions in battle now or risk losing every soul she claims to protect.”
Galan was the first to speak after a tense pause. “It may take some time to carry out that threat if she were to refuse. My machines—”
“You are a god of the Circle. These worlds are nothing for you to destroy.”
Anemolie’s eyes flared. “And if she accepts?”
“You will take your champions and your armies—all of them—and kill those that fight for her. No more hunting. No more hiding. I need only one soul to claim my place in Ascension. It is past time I collected it.”
She uncoiled her pure form. The planet split beneath her, sizzling as her energy tore the earth apart, leaving only a single chunk drifting through space. Galan and Anemolie stood at its edge as she grew until she felt large enough to contain her anger. What was left of the planet looked like a mote of dust.
“Where will you go?” Anemolie spoke through her thoughts.
Amara set her sights on the cluster of galaxies where Michael thought he was hidden. She sped off through the stars letting her words trail behind her.
“To fulfill a promise I made. A reckoning is due.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
August was the last to pass through the synapse to the Void. He had to look hard to find the Horsemen in the dark. Even with their hands hovering above their weapons, they were a picture of calm compared to Cerenus, who looked as rigid as a cornered dog. The world was stone quiet. Every step on the dusty surface seemed deadened, almost as if they were walking on air. I’ve ridden asteroids more alive than this. There was no movement in the Void, no life to speak of. Something resembling a sun in the distance cast a soft white light that barely lit the empty city structures. A wide swath of emptiness stretched ahead of them like spilled black paint. It wasn’t until he concentrated on the small reflections on the surface that he realized it was a motionless ocean.
One of the Horsemen stopped and pointed. A man stood in front of the black water with his face to the sea. He wore a dark, tight-fitting suit with a long tail coat that brushed the sand.
Cerenus looked over his shoulder past August to the synapse nearby. His eyes were the only light to see by. “It’s not too late,” he said. “We can leave without listening to this madness.”
“We could use his help,” August said. “If it’s offered.”
“And if it isn’t?”
August took a look back at the synapse himself. He felt a weight keeping him in place. “Come on,” he said, pushing himself forward. “He can’t do anything to hurt us. Just be on the lookout for surprises.”
“That’s the only saving grace of this world. There’s nowhere to hide.” Cerenus glared at Tamaril’s silhouette. “Still, be on your guard.”
August nodded for the Horsemen to follow suit. Together, they walked across the hard-packed soil as they waited for Tamaril to notice them. Finally the god twisted his head as they closed in.
When Tamaril turned, August startled at seeing his eyes in person. It was like staring into the night sky. Tamaril settled his placid, starry gaze on all of them before noticing Cerenus. The downturn in his expression was unmistakable. It was like watching two bitter divorcees face each other in a courtroom.
“I expected the Lawson man,” Tamaril said. “Never you.”
“Someone had to come along to translate your lies.”
“Alrighty,” August said, stepping forward. “Sorry about my friend here. I’m usually the one people have to keep muzzled.”
“I do not hold you responsible for this one,” Tamaril replied. He gave a slight smile as he turned his attention back to August. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Likewise.” August braced himself involuntarily against the god trying to see into his thoughts. To his surprise, he didn’t feel any mental fingers searching through his mind. “I gotta say, we weren’t expecting to get your message. Some of us weren’t sure we should trust you.”
“Oh, it was just me,” Cerenus said. “You know, the one who has the most experience dealing with you.”
“You know nothing about me,” Tamaril replied.
“I know. That’s the problem. Luckily, I’ve developed quite the knack for spotting people of ill repute over time.”
“A personality you are intimately familiar with.”
Jesus, how am I the adult here? August stepped in between them. “I came here to listen, not to referee a cat fight between a couple of billion-year-olds. If you’ve got something
to say, let’s hear it.”
He might’ve been imagining things, but a flash of anger seemed to cross Tamaril’s face. He erased it quickly in favor of a dour look of resignation. “I did not come to this decision lightly. Meryn and I have not always seen eye to eye, and of course, there are my numerous problems with your friend here.”
August put out his hand to keep Cerenus in place. “Keep going.”
“I have largely stayed out of this conflict, in part due to unease with disputes among the Circle. They can be destructive, to say the least. Recent events have pushed me to intervene.”
“Meaning what?” August asked.
“The attacks on Meryn and Soraste’s worlds. Amara has always been prone to delusions where it pertains to Pyra. I refrained from siding against her when she first challenged Ule because he was a potential menace—everyone knew that. The Circle is better off without him. But this—this was too much.”
Cerenus scoffed. “I can’t believe we’re listening to this.”
“Cerenus—”
“Of all people, August, surely you can see through this charade. This man no more cares for the people on those worlds than he does for the dirt beneath his feet.”
“Right now I don’t care who he has feelings for, so long as they’re not for Amara. If he helps us, he can kill all the cute little rabbits he wants.” He glanced back to Tamaril. “As long as you make new cute little rabbits.”
“We’re running out of time,” Tamaril said, clearly not interested in the joke. “Once we join forces, we will need to attack immediately, before they have a chance to prepare.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I have a trio of champions waiting on one of my worlds, along with my army. They are in position to strike Galan’s troops. I can send you there now while Cerenus goes back to tell Meryn.”
“Absolutely not,” Cerenus said.
