by T. C. Edge
Did they even manage to catch up.
Have they been forced to go all the way to Olympus?
Are...are they all dead?
The last one is the most immediately concerning, though few allow it much time to breed. Not with the likes of Ares there, the Neoromans say. Not with a crack team of Neoroman warriors by his side, each and every one of them a former Champion of the arena. Not with their future Empress, Kira, who could sniff a trap from ten miles away.
Yet still, a concern begins to flourish as we continue onwards, a familiar feeling rising inside me as we advance. It's the same feeling I felt when we drew nearer to New Haven; the thought, the threat, that danger might be lurking around any corner. That the Olympian army may have dealt with Ares and his men somehow, and are now preparing to storm towards us and ransack our force of five hundred before we can gain a foothold in their lands.
Because yes, these are their lands. My lands. Lands that the Olympian army and its leaders will know well. The Havenites were able to use their knowledge of the local area against us, killing hundreds of soldiers in the process. Now, the shoe is on the other foot, and we must be ever more careful as we progress.
In Perses, however, we have a man who knows these lands better than anyone. A man who, now, stands side by side with Ares once more in might and unfathomable power. Even though he says he won't fight, even though he remains a foreigner, a former leader of those we pursue, the soldiers from Haven begin to look at him with their full trust. Slowly but surely, he grows in influence. And soon, even Commander Hendricks begins to come around.
That is the power of Perses. He is too strong, too wise, too noble to be discounted and distrusted for long.
I continue to travel with Jude, spending my days with him in the jeep. He remains mostly quiet, but not like before. The burden of abandoning his fellow Fringers fades with each passing day. His anger and hatred towards Elian quickly does the same. He sees, now, that Elian wasn't in control when he attacked me, and us. And much as they may never get along, I know that he realises Elian isn't so bad. That he isn't the pampered, elitist Olympian he thought. That, perhaps, he is actually a good man.
My attempts to get them to spend any time together, however, fall on deaf ears. It may, in the end, be a fool's errand to try, though with time on my hands, there seems little harm in doing so. Each time we stop, I suggest to Jude that we take a short walk. My path and intended route, on every occasion, is towards Elian's jeep.
Jude, of course, is wise to my intentions, and each time declines the offer. I'm left going between them, speaking with Elian when we stop for breaks and at night, and spending the days with Jude as we travel. I find myself, as those days pass, reforging the bonds that had become so strained with both men, enjoying their company in equal, if different, measure.
With Jude, I speak of home, and of hope, reminiscing over the past, and looking to the future. I remember how easy things have always been with him. Within the safe confines of that car, and with Jude becoming increasingly comfortable within the presence of Secretary Burns and Perses, I see the boy I've known all my life begin to creep back out of the shadows. Casting off his bonds of slavery, and with his mind moving towards his new purpose, I see the old Jude re-emerge, like Perses, stronger and keener than ever before.
With Elian, it's different. There is no great past between us, no great history. Yet we share a common ground, our recent experiences drawing us so close, our powers, and the fire within, ever seeking to unite us. It isn't quite so natural as with Jude, perhaps, our time together always under watch as the guards linger nearby, and necessarily brief before we need to continue on our way, or get our heads down and sleep.
It is, instead, my intention to continue to turn Elian to my - our - way of thinking. To convince him that ridding the world of the Prime is going to serve us all, that uniting the people of Olympus and the Fringe is, quite simply, the right thing to do.
He agrees with me, and he says all the right things, but in the end, even though the Prime's controls have been removed, he remains stuck in a system of the haves and have nots, used to living off the divide between the Children of the Prime, and the Fringers who have ever served them.
And in all that lies the main problem. If someone like Elian continues to have reservations, then how are we going to convince an entire city to change their ways? This goes far beyond the influence of the Prime. Eliminating them is one thing, but trying to show the people of Olympus that they are no better than the Fringers, and that the divide between them must be bridged, isn't going to be easy.
A long road lies ahead, I know. One that will not end if, and when, the Prime is destroyed.
132
"Five days, Perses," grunts Burns, shaking his head as he climbs into the front seat of the car. Evidently, he didn't have a good night's sleep. "It's been five days since they left and still no sign. Our scouts went ahead twenty miles before dawn and nothing." He looks backwards, as the driver starts the engine. "How deep into the Fringe are we now?"
Sat in the back, I glance at Jude. It's rare to see Secretary Burns this frustrated, in my experience at least.
"We're just on the southern edge, Leyton," says Perses, who I've noticed has taken to using Burn's first name quite regularly now. "The Fringe covers a vast area, hundreds of thousands of square miles. We are several hundred miles from Olympus still. Plenty of time for Ares and his unit to try to catch up..."
"No," says Burns, shaking his head. "I think it's clear enough, now, that they are not still tracking the Olympian army. We have slowed down considerably, stopping for five or six hours every night. Ares will not have done the same. Without such breaks, he'll have reached the Olympian army a day or two ago at the latest."
Perses's thick neck nods in agreement, his muscular upper back rippling in the seat ahead of us. "That sounds reasonable," he says, returning now to the man I knew, the man who was always in control. "But answer me this, Leyton - do you have faith in Ares and his unit?"
Burns takes a bare second to think, before nodding resolutely. "Of course," he says. "I have complete faith in him, Kira, and the Neoroman soldiers."
"Then there is little for you to worry about. We will discover what has happened to them soon, I'm sure. In the meantime, if we have nothing actionable to go on, then there is little point in further debating it."
I purse my lips secretly as I turn to Jude in the back seat. We share a look, like a couple of children quietly listening to their parents argue. My expression is enough to make Jude crack a smile. Even in these circumstances, he's returning to his old, jovial self, the young man who always tried to use humour and his false-cocky charm to break the ice. It's as though the closer we get to home, the more like his old self he's becoming.
"You're probably right, Perses," Burns says eventually. He's far, far too rational to allow himself to disagree. "But we do need to consider just what we will do if we don't come across them soon. Their mission was to retrieve Brie. We don't yet know if they have been successful. Yet our remit remains the same - to set up our own temporary camp and await the arrival of our reinforcements. I can only assume that going too deep into the Fringe is likely to make us vulnerable. We will need to consider where we are going to set up shop, a place we can defend if necessary, and stand our ground while we send back runners to confirm that our reinforcements are coming." He stops and takes what appears to be a much needed breath. "Do you know anywhere like that?"
"I may," says Perses, almost annoyingly cryptically. "I will have to think about it, Leyton. There are hundreds of settlements across the Fringe, some of which are no longer populated. They will have homes and beds for the men to sleep in, and some are well situated to provide plenty of warning should we come under attack."
"Right, good," says Burns, as the car rattles along through the southern borders of the Fringe. "Consider options, then."
"Um, I have a question," I say, my voice peeking out from the back seat.
Perses turns his anvil
of a chin back to face me, cut through with a deep scar. "Yes, Amber?"
"I'm just...just thinking," I say. "Maybe we should head west of here? There are good natural defences that way, what with the mountains and everything. It might be a good place to set up camp?"
Perses draws a knowing smile onto his face. "And it just so happens to be where your family are from too," he says, quick enough to call me out.
"Well, er...yeah. But what I say still holds."
"Is this true, Perses?" asks Burns, looking back. "Might the western reaches make for a suitable staging point?"
"It's possible, yes," says Perses. "Though the same could be said for a range of areas. As I say, the lands are vast."
"Well, we'll keep it in mind as an option," says Burns. His eyes search towards me, hidden away at the back. "You will see your friends and family again, Amber, whether we venture that way or not. I made that promise to you, and will keep it. You have my word."
"Thank you," my voice whispers.
I sit back again, as the car rushes onwards at the head of the convoy. It's a bright morning, the lands baked in a warm, shining layer of sun. I slip my hand into my pocket as I look out, thinking again of home and my family, my fingers idly teasing at the syringe that holds so much power to me now.
I feel nervous, thinking about seeing my parents again, good Devotees as they are. I wonder how they'll treat me, knowing what I am. Will they look up to me as some divine creature, as they've been taught to do throughout their lives? Will they, instead, shun me as some dark divinity, bringing this foreign army north to destroy the Prime, the gods they all serve and worship?
Maybe, in the end, it'll be simpler if I keep my powers suppressed now, I think, gently rolling the syringe between my fingers. It might make everything easier...
My mind drifts to my grandmother. Seeing her will be easier, in a way, despite all the truths she kept from me. She will understand my path, at least. She'll be able to give me guidance. I've yearned for so long to see her again, to hear the truth of what happened from her lips. Yet, from what Jude told me, she's regressed, fallen into darkness, becoming nothing but a lonely hermit in the woods. Will I find that she is the same? Or might I return to find her different, as my parents will find me?
And what...what of Lilly? I wonder, my heart throbbing nervously at the thought. How will I explain all this to her?
I feel a sharp strike of fear as I think of her, locked away in Olympus as she is. Yes, she's in the care of Lady Felina, but how far will that get her if Kovas seeks to take revenge on me? If he should learn of what I've done, of my part, now, among the forces of Haven, he'll surely look to make me suffer. And with Lilly there, behind those grand walls, there'll be nothing I'll be able to do.
I feel Jude's hand reaching across and touching my arm, drawing my attention. "What's the matter?" he asks me softly, peering into my fear-filled eyes. "I can see something's wrong, Amber. What is it?"
I dip my head. "Lilly," I whisper, her name on my lips, her face in my mind. "If...if they learn that I'm here, with the Havenites, helping them..." I shake my head. "She isn't safe there now, Jude. I can't protect her while she's in Olympus."
"She's innocent," he tries to assure me. "There’d be no reason to harm her, Amber. And you told me her mistress is one of the good ones, right? I'm sure, with everything that's happening, Herald Kovas has other things on his mind."
I nod, his words helping to assuage some of my concerns. They step back into the shadows of my mind, lingering there behind the curtain. There, always there, ready to rush back onto the stage when they sense I'm at my weakest.
I sit back again, turning my mind to other things, as the car rumbles on. The lands here are vast, wide prairies, stretching at some points as far as the eye can see. Dotted with lakes and portions of higher ground, they are mostly unremarkable, though verdant and green and overtaken, in places, by thickets and woods, of which I've now seen plenty.
They were farmlands, I know, a long time ago. Much of this land was cultivated and tilled, as much of it still is now. In areas, now, away in the distance, I begin to see signs of life, of ploughed earth, of smoke rising in little, distant plumes. I catch sight of one far to the distance, quickly disappearing behind the earth as we head off down a slope.
I frown, wondering what it was. A bonfire, perhaps, lit by a farmer here. Or maybe the smoke given off by a more simple abode, someone cooking at the hearth.
My lazy thoughts are interrupted as I tune in again, listening as Burns and Perses resume their conversation.
"Are you certain that the Olympian army would have come this way, Perses?" asks Burns. He looks ahead through the front window. I do the same, and admit he has a point. The grasslands here don't appear to have been churned up. I can see no signs of tracks in the earth, suggesting that a convoy of thousands has passed.
"This is the route we took when travelling to New Haven," Perses answers. His eyes, quite capable of seeing a great deal more than the rest of ours, scan out of the window. "Though, I do see your point, Leyton. They may have taken a slightly different path."
"Well that doesn't help us much, does it?" says Burns. "We were meant to meet again with Ares on the trail. If we're on the wrong path, then how will they find us?"
"They'll find us, if they're fit to," says Perses, so confident in his words. "I hear Kira can track just about anything. I'm sure she will have no trouble locating us, if she puts her nose, ears, and eyes to the task."
We drive on, pressing forwards, as Perses and Burns continue to discuss possible stopping points and options. It's getting, by now, to the stage where Ares and his team's fate isn't something we can consider. No, we need to think of ourselves now, and trust that the others come good in the end.
"We should stop for a moment," Burns says. "I would like to hear Commander Hendricks's council."
He nods to the driver, who immediately slows, drawing the vehicle to a stop in a small gulley. The rest of the convoy do the same, the fifty or so vehicles all parking where they can, half the soldiers emptying out, the other half choosing to stay inside.
I'm part of the former, slipping immediately from the car. I glance back at Jude. "You coming?"
He shrugs and follows, if only to get some fresh air. I look over to see that Perses, Burns, and Hendricks are quickly gathering into a huddle nearby. It isn't something I want to miss out on.
"I'm going over," I say. "Come on."
Jude shakes his head, staying steadfast by the car. "Er, yeah, Amber, I'm hardly one of the leaders here. I don't think anyone cares what I think."
"Of course they care," I say, though realising that, well, he's at least partially right. "Um, I care?"
"Um, not enough," he responds dryly. "At least not to join their council. Go ahead, I'm fine here."
I shrug and move off, rushing up to join them. Really, my voice probably shouldn't count for a great deal either, but spending all this time with Burns and Perses, and having been included in the high command of the Olympian leadership, I don't feel too awkward going to join in.
"The issue is," I hear Hendricks say as I arrive, "whether we need to be concerned about being spotted." He glances at me vaguely, noticing my presence. I don't exactly join in completely, but hover towards the background, eavesdropping more than anything. "As far as I'm concerned, it would be better if the Olympian army didn't know we were here, at least for the time being. But, I suspect that such a thing isn't likely, or even possible." He looks to Perses.
"Highly unlikely," Perses says. "If you had wished to stay clear of their sights, then it would have been better to stop and make camp a day or two ago..."
"Well, that wasn't an option, was it?" grunts Hendricks. "We were meant to be following behind after Ares. God knows where he's got to."
"I wasn't making any sort of complaint, Commander," says Perses. "I am merely stating the facts. We have followed the course, as arranged, and now that we're here, we can be sure that our presence will be q
uickly felt."
"They'd have anticipated that we might be chasing them from New Haven anyway," says Burns. "And they may already be aware that we are following, if we've been spotted by scouts along the route."
"I agree," nods Perses. "So based on that logic, what we need to do now is find a suitable place to stop. I think it's clear enough that, whatever has happened to Ares and his unit, there's little we can do. They can track us if we make camp nearby, and don't move off too far across the Fringe." He glances down to me. "I think, Amber, that means that a return to Pine Lake isn't possible quite yet."
"That's...er, that's fine," I say, my voice slightly tight. In fact, given my nerves about seeing my parents, and my grandmother, again, perhaps it's for the best right now.
"So?" says Hendricks, glancing around. "Where then, Perses? These lands are very open. It'll be easy enough for us to keep watch here. That is one advantage."
"True. But an attack, in any case," nods Perses, "would appear unlikely. Olympus remains a fair distance from here, and they will take time to recover and form their own strategy. I would say it's more likely that they'll remain behind the city walls, rather than risk soldiers trying to attack us. Back there, the Prime and the Overseer will have ample time to bend Brie to their cause."
"That's...if she's still with them," stutters Hendricks, trying to stay upbeat.
"I think, Commander," says Perses slowly, "it is becoming increasingly obvious that that is the case. At least, we have to work under that assumption."
"Yes," says Burns. "Prepare for the worst, and hope for the best. If Brie is behind their walls now, we will have to retrieve her when we make our assault." He looks up at Perses, perhaps thinking of what we spoke of before, of the high, impenetrable walls, the near impossibility of a successful siege. "Whatever form that assault might take."
"Fine," says Hendricks. "So, Perses, where do you suggest, then? These are your lands. We need somewhere suitable to stay."
Perses turns his eyes to what, given our trajectory so far, I assume to be northwards, though with a slight slant towards the west. Yes, these are technically my lands, but I haven't exactly spent much time in these parts. Before leaving Pine Lake, I'd never ventured far beyond my own region. And though the Fringe, as Perses says, is vast, I've hardly seen any of it at all.
