by T. C. Edge
"Thanks," she grunts, as if angry at the kind remark. "But I can't do the things you can. Not even Elian has your raw power. It's no surprise you've been made a Herald."
"Whoa, the compliments are coming thick and fast today," I say. "We're not becoming friends are we, Hestia?"
"Not my choice," she tells me, shrugging. "You outrank me now. I have to follow your orders."
"Hmmmm, there's something quite hollow about that," I joke. "I'd prefer it if you just wanted to be friends with me."
"Is that an order?" she asks, her lips narrow but eyes showing some good humour. "An order for me to want to be friends with you?"
"OK, now we're going deep," I laugh. "You know, you're funnier than you think."
"Really? I've never been accused of that."
"Well you have something. It's raw, but there's potential for a bit of dry humour in there. I think we'll get along OK."
"If you say so."
"I do," I tell her, asserting my position. "And while we're at it, here's another order..."
She raises her eyes skeptically. "What?"
"To reconsider your opinion of the people of the Fringe. I know there's a divide in Olympus about how people see them, but I'd prefer if you were a little more open-minded about it all."
"Them?" she says. "Interesting. Not long ago you'd have said 'us'."
I think about that a second. She's right. I do appear to have distanced myself from my past now. I've embraced my new identity.
"I'm split," I say after a pause. "I'm half Fringe, half Olympus. I'm one of a kind, Hestia. Don't you forget that."
"Couldn't if I tried," she mutters. "I guess you're growing on me, like a wart or something. You're harder to dislike than I thought. Now that I'm allowed to, well...it's actually quite liberating."
I smile brightly. "Good. Now lighten up in general, and we'll call that a good start."
Her eyes draw tight, face coiling at the thought. She seems the sort who's ever dwelled in the darkness. The concept of 'lightening up' isn't overly appealing.
"I'll...try," she says. "If I have to."
"You do. At least around me. I need a friend around here, and though I might be mad for saying it, you seem to be the best choice."
"How sweet. Friend by default."
"Nicely put," I smile. "Now come on, show me that figurine again. I want to hear all about how you felt meeting the Prime."
She lets out an exhausted sigh at the thought, before revealing the figure again and passing it to me.
Oh, she's not the type to 'share', I can see that. But if I'm going to go through some changes, I'm going to make sure someone else does too. If I can make Hestia loosen up, then I can probably do just about anything, right?
We'll see about that...
54
The first light of dawn brings with it the continuing of our journey, Perses returning to the carriage to wake me from an unbroken night of sleep. He gives me a moment to compose myself, before folding up the bed again and returning Black Thunder to its original state.
"Sleep well, Amber?" he asks me, settling his muscled frame down into a seat.
I nod through a yawn, blinking out at the flatlands bathed in a beautiful red glow.
"Good," he says. "You'll need plenty of rest if you're to operate at your optimal capacity."
"Fine by me," I say, stretching like a cat. "How about you? You didn't walk all night, did you?"
"That surprises you, does it?" he asks.
"Well, of course. It's weird."
"I need time alone, Amber," he says sagely. "I am most relaxed when I wander. To me, that is sleep."
I raise my eyes. "Like I said. Weird."
His eyes flatten on me.
"Erm, sorry. I have no filter in the morning."
"Evidently," he says. "Nice to see that you're getting along so well with Hestia, though."
I frown. "You saw us?"
"I like to keep an eye on things," he tells me, voice rumbling. "The darkness doesn't hinder my vision. I noticed the two of you in conversation from afar."
"Yeah, well I guess I have at least something in common with her, seeing as we're both Fire-Bloods. Other than Krun, I don't know anyone else around here."
"Give it time, young Herald. There's no need to force such things."
The carriage begins moving as he speaks, rolling smoothly over the plains. It feels strangely comforting to be on the move again, heading deeper into the Fringe and what lies beyond.
"Will we reach our destination today?" I ask, watching the world pass by at a gathering speed.
Perses's eyes darken. "We shall see," he says. "Our information suggests that the assailants remain in camp where they are, but may be preparing to move. I have dispatched two of our finest Phasers to press on ahead and ascertain the situation. We will know this afternoon."
I sit back, nodding, setting my mind to the task that lies ahead. Technically, I'm just here to observe, to get a feel for the life these soldiers lead, but that doesn't stop the nerves from building. It isn't so much a fear or anxiety that begins to grip at me as we go, but an anticipation of what's to come.
Only weeks ago, when Jude and I escaped through Black Ridge, I was forced to throw my first ever punch. Now, I've faced combat against Titans and Phasers. I've brought to life the blaze inside me, learning new skills, how to command the raging flame. I've walked among gods and have seen death firsthand. I've been through more than I could ever have imagined, and have taken it all in my stride.
And now, here I am, on a mission to save the innocent and kill the guilty. To bring justice to those who cannot defend themselves, light to the dark places of the world. And that, more than anything before in my life, sets a vibrant thrill inside me, beating like a drum. A battle march in my heart that grows stronger as we go.
Observe? Like hell...
No, I'm here to join in.
The convoy halts only briefly as Perses climbs out. Ahead, I see the shape of two figures pouring over the open plains, little thickets of woodland dotted here and there. Over the past few hours, a few villages and settlements have appeared on the horizon, though none close enough to see in great detail. We have slipped on through the Fringe without detection, just as Perses said was commonly the case.
The figures, distant only a few moments ago, quickly rush ahead to join us. The speed at which they cover the ground is startling, drawing up clouds of dust that follow their path. Hurrying right up to Perses, they pull to a sudden stop, the pursuing cloud of dust briefly engulfing them before fading away once more.
Both stand, doubled over, hands to knees as they try to gather their breath. I watch from the door of the carriage, other soldiers doing the same from the convoy behind us. Glancing back, I notice Krun watching on eagerly from the transport directly behind Black Thunder. Further back, the fiery glow of Hestia's outfit lights up at the rear.
"Gather your breath, men," I hear Perses say calmly. He gives the two Phasers a few more moments to replenish their oxygen supply before going on. "Now, what have you discovered?"
"The bandits, sir," pants one of the Phasers, standing back up straight. "They're...they're preparing...another assault."
Perses stiffens, wide back straightening. "Where?" he asks.
I tense as I listen from the side.
"We're not certain..." says the other soldier, heaving in another breath. "But that's...not the problem..."
"What is the problem?" Perses grunts. "Speak."
"Reinforcements, Herald Perses," the first man says, his breath regathered. "Their camp has multiplied significantly."
"Numbers?"
"Two hundred at least," the Phaser says. "Our men on watch there have seen more coming in by the hour. We believe they're other bands who have been ransacking settlements further south. Now they're massing, sir. "
Perses lifts a hand to his mighty chin, stroking gently. "Any further word on their capabilities?" he asks.
"Hard to say, Herald Perses. Ou
r men have been watching night and day. They have a large number of men with Phaser powers, we know that much at least."
"And half a dozen Titans, sir," adds the second solider. "We're not sure of what else, but believe they may well have some Elementals in their ranks."
I feel my chest clench tighter at that.
"Dark gods," I hear Perses rumble, looking up and out towards the plains pensively. "This is no normal bandit party."
"No, sir," the first Phaser says. "They're well organised, and bear the marks of combat. Most carry firearms. Many are wearing patchwork armour."
"Hmmmm," Perses muses, hand still on his chin. I watch those deepset eyes fade behind his furrowed brow. "Sounds like the Cure to me."
"The Cure?" says the second Phaser, frowning too. I notice Krun marching from behind now, stepping forward to join the conversation. Others filter from their carriages, listening in though staying back. "I thought they were destroyed?"
"That is the latest intelligence from the south," Perses says, calm, in control. "But they had a vast army. It's possible a portion survived and journeyed north in search of new hunting grounds. We all know how they operate."
The two Phasers nod. Krun, dwarfing them, steps in to add his voice. "Then they shouldn't be a problem," the Titan says, filling his huge chest defiantly. "The Cure were never a threat at full strength. Two hundred isn't a concern, Herald Perses."
"Nothing is a concern to you, Krun," Perses says with a wry smile. "But we must exercise caution regardless. We number fifty only. Their ranks may have grown by the time we arrive. Prudence is, as we know, a necessary tenet in our survival."
"Yes, Herald Perses," Krun says, bowing his head. He straightens out, standing to attention. "What are your orders, sir?"
"We leave immediately," Perses says, without needing a second to think. "If they are massing to strike elsewhere across the Fringe, we have no time to waste." He nods to the Phasers, and Krun, who quickly salute and speed off back towards the carriages. I notice the rest of the soldiers doing the same, disappearing inside as Perses spins and marches back towards me.
I slip backwards, dropping into my seat, trying to keep up with what I've heard. I watch as Perses takes a seat opposite me, busying himself in thought as he opens the little window to the telekinetic driver's seats ahead, and passes on his orders. The convoy begins moving again, doing so at a greater pace.
From a small cabinet on the side of the carriage, Perses draws out a series of maps. He pulls on a lever in the floor and a table unfolds before him. Laying down the maps, he begins poring over them, seeming completely oblivious to my presence.
"Um, I have a question," I say softly.
Perses ignores me, eyes on the maps, still shuffling through them. Most of them I don't recognise. The only one that looks familiar is the larger one showing what I think is North America, or what used to be, anyway. I haven't exactly seen the same map before, but I recognise the shape from a rudimentary version grandma once drew for me.
I continue to watch Perses a second as he draws out others, showing even larger areas of the world. Distant lands across vast oceans and seas. Landmasses thousands upon thousands of miles away where, as far as I know, life might be thriving or completely non-existent.
I watch, fascinated, before eventually Perses looks up at me.
"Yes, Amber," he says, several minutes after I spoke. "What is your question?"
I blink, trying to remember. Oh yes, that's it.
"The Cure," I say, voice small, eyes still on the maps. "Who are they?"
Perses turns his eyes back down to the maps, refocusing on the old landmass of North America. "Dark divinities," he says. "Unenlightened men. They have been a blight on the lands down the western coast for many years, raiding villages, killing without mercy. They are devils, Amber, who have no interest in organised society, and no respect for the gifts that many of them possess."
"And they're called the Cure?"
"It's ironic, isn't it. They have their own set of pagan beliefs, and think that they are the answer. Well, they have clearly been asking the wrong question, as far as we've heard."
"Because they were destroyed..."
"As far as we know, yes," Perses says, voice darkening around the edges, scars deepening upon his brow. "The Cure are no true threat to us, as Captain Krun said." He looks out of the window, towards the distant south. "No, it is the people who overcame them whom we must be concerned about."
"Who?" I whisper, a pulse of fire filling my veins. My mind conjures images of places I've imagined over the years, places my grandmother has only ever suggested and hinted at. She spoke of powerful cities thousands of miles away, places grand and organised like Olympus, filled with genetically enhanced individuals, commanding powerful armies.
One I saw in the flame, when I faced the first trial ahead of the Overseer. I saw myself atop the hill, looking into the distance. I saw the hint of a place with high walls and grand buildings, so unlike Olympus, yet vast and intimidating.
I turn my eyes to Perses, whose own appear distant.
"There are places out there, as I spoke of, Amber, with power enough to challenge us. Until this point, we haven't been concerned with such a thing. Yet recent months have seen a great change in the tide. There have been power struggles, and changes in regime, both far to the south and across the distant seas. And, not too long ago, there was an incident that we cannot ignore."
I wait with bated breath for him to continue. He hauls a breath into his lungs, and proceeds.
"You know the job of our Heralds of Awakening," he begins. "They travel to distant lands in search of those who might join us, men and women with dormant divinity yet to be set free. It is a sacred duty they perform, one that is so essential. Without them, many of us would never have known the truth of what we are. Without them, I would never have come here myself..."
He stops briefly, noting the look in my eye. A silence descends upon us like a blanket, smothering out all other external sound as we roll along the plains. "Yes," he goes on, "I was discovered and awoken, Amber. I ascended to Olympus as you did, though in different circumstances. Our Heralds of Awakening have performed this duty for decades. They have been essential in making the city what it is today, and are thus given the highest of standings among us, as you know. But," he continues, voice darkening, "as you are now too aware, none of us who reside upon the summit are invulnerable. Death does occur to both our Chosen and our Heralds."
He turns his eyes down to a map in front of him, twisting it around so that it's visible to me. It's the one showing the landmass that was once North America, one I faintly recognise. His finger traces its way around, moving northwards to an area to the northwest. I look at the topography, the shape of the mountains, the little lakes and plains that spread away to the north, south, and east. His fingers stop, and taps a single time.
"Do you know where this is?"
I nod, recognising the area from grandma's teachings. "Pine Lake," I say. I reach forward, pointing. "And all this is the Fringe."
"Correct. Across a huge area in what was once known as Canada. Perhaps your grandmother taught you that?"
I nod, recalling the name. "And here's the old border with the United States," I say, fascinated by the detail on the map, the many names of major settlements that once flourished and proliferated. "Grandma told me that the Fringe was in a state called Alberta. That's where she got her name."
"Indeed," smiles Perses, evidently aware, nodding down at the map again. His thick finger continues to trace its path, this time moving away towards the south in a sweeping pattern, left and right, ocean to ocean. "Our Heralds of Awakening travel far and wide doing their duty. They are well protected by some of our finest soldiers, but it is a dangerous job, often taking them into unknown and perilous territory."
His finger keeps moving, drifting away thousands of miles towards the east, moving down past the old border and into the United States. It slows, his fingernail scratching the
surface of the map before eventually stopping. His eyes move back up to mine, dark and brooding.
"Several months ago," he says, voice low like the humming growl of a lion, "we lost one of our most gifted Heralds of Awakening here, many hundreds of miles from our borders. "He was killed, along with his entire troop of soldiers, in terrible circumstances." He shakes his head, pensively rebuking. "Herald Nestor had his own way of doing things that I, personally, didn't always agree with. Yet he was highly effective, and utterly loyal to the Prime, and the city. To lose him was a great tragedy."
"And what happened?" I ask quietly. "Who killed him?"
"That, Amber, is where we get to the real threat we face. He was killed by powerful agents from the south who hail from a city called Haven. We sent out investigators to ascertain the truth, and managed to learn a few details of what happened there." His eyes close tighter, his words sharpening. "It seems there were only two, Amber. Two soldiers overcame Herald Nestor and his entire protective cohort."
Only two? I think, shocked. Could two soldiers kill the entire protective guard of a Herald?
"And where are they now?" I ask, tracing the maps once again, my eyes drifting south, heart beating fast. Haven. The name rings a bell, somewhere grandma spoke of. A place ruled by the genetically enhanced...
"That is something we cannot be sure of," Perses says. "We don't know exactly why they came so far north. We don't know exactly what their intentions are now. But we do know this, Amber. Haven has seen great change over the last year. What was once a stable government has now been overthrown by a dangerous and unpredictable group. We cannot know for sure what their intentions are, but this incident with Herald Nestor has put us all on alert."
"But why? Why would they murder him and his men?"
Perses raises his eyes, sighing. "Nestor was particularly...committed in his methods," he says. "He came from a school of thought that saw those beyond our borders as lesser lifeforms, and used often violent methods to discover men and women worthy of awakening. I didn't always agree with how he operated, but his results spoke for themselves. It was never within my power to question him."
