by T. C. Edge
"Mother! Father!" I shout. "It's Amber. I'm home."
I see no one as I go. At this sort of time I'd expect to see father fishing at the end of the jetty, or somewhere further down the lake testing one of his latest fishing inventions. Mother, before Lilly left, would have been tutoring her or seeing to her household chores. On a day like this, she might be out hanging washing on the line, or gutting fish for lunch and dinner.
But there's nothing. No one. I glance out to the lake itself, bordered by other small cabins and hamlets around its edge. I see no fishing boats out there on the sparkling water. All of them seem to be moored at their docks and piers.
"Mother! Father!" I call again, rushing up quickly towards the front door of the cabin.
I see no one before I reach it, dousing my flame as I grab the door and pull it open, revealing the kitchen beyond. I step inside and look around. The place is more messy than usual, the cupboard open and emptied out. I scan my eyes across them in alarm, before rushing right into my parents' bedroom. I find no one there, though the bed is neatly made. Everything seems in its place.
I continue through to my old room, and Lilly's old room, to find the same thing. They've been perfectly preserved as they were, as though shrines to my parents' lost daughters. I feel a pinch of grief as I see them, but don't dwell on it long. I turn and hurry back into the kitchen just as Jude arrives.
"What's happening?" he pants. "They're not here?"
I shake my head, and begin searching the room again. I work through every cabinet I can see. Nothing. They're empty. I rush to one side, opening a door that leads into a small, separate pantry. It's where we'd keep the fish that father's catches, ready to take it for tribute.
It's empty.
"It's gone," I say. "All of it is gone."
I turn again to look at Jude. From outside, I hear crunching footsteps as grandma appears, walking in. She looks a little more calm as she turns her eyes around the room. She appears to come to a quick realisation as she sees it.
"Everything's gone, grandma," I say breathily. "They must have taken their supplies to the main square. It's just as you said."
She nods, still scanning the interior. "If that's the case, we may well find them in town. We should head there immediately."
I nod, a sense of dread filling me at what exactly went on in the main town square. "What about Grace?" I say. I turn to Jude. "Do you think she'd be there too?"
"I don't know," he says, evidently concerned about his auntie. "If everyone around Pine Lake was commanded to gather their supplies, then maybe. Usually, some of the younger people in our village were the ones who brought tribute during the Collection. She could well have stayed home."
"Then perhaps it's best if we split up," grandma says. "Jude, you head to your village. I will go to town with Amber..."
"No," I say, shaking my head. "Hell no! We are not splitting up, grandma." I look at them both. "We are in this together, and we stay together," I say. "If there are soldiers still out there, it might not be safe."
My grandmother lifts a curious, though proud, smile. "Your time under Perses has made you more assertive," she says. "That's good. All leaders need to think quickly, and trust their instincts." She draws a breath and looks to the door. "How far is your village from here, Jude?"
"About six miles," he says.
"Six miles," she repeats, thinking. "Then we head for town first, and together." She looks at me. "If Grace isn't there, we can continue onto Jude's hunting village. Does that sound fair."
I turn to Jude. "Sounds about right to me," I say.
Jude nods, a little less sure. "OK. But I don't mind going alone. I know these woods better than anyone."
"I know you do," I say. "But I..."
"You don't think it's safe," he says. "For me."
"For anyone, Jude," I say. "We lost each other once, and I don't want that to happen again. It's best if we all stay together right now."
I can see that he remains touchy on the subject, but relents with a nod of the head.
"Then if there's nothing else we need to do while we're here," says grandma, "let's get going. The jeep isn't far away."
We leave at that, my grand return home becoming no more than a passing visit. In a way, that feels right. My final years living here had turned me into little more than a stranger in this cabin. I felt more at home at grandma's place, and in the presence of Jude. The lake, the woods, the mountains were my home. This place...
I turn away from it with a final look, and hurry back down the shore of the lake.
142
We reach the jeep in a further ten or so minutes, hurrying at pace and climbing back inside. Driving down the track, we soon burst back out onto the plains, turning this time towards the north where the smoking town of Pine Lake waits.
"Be careful when we arrive," grandma says, sitting in the passenger seat next to Jude. "I imagine the soldiers will be gone but we must be wary, just in case."
The engine revs loudly as it clicks into a higher gear, the jeep bumping violently as the town quickly grows clearer ahead. The belching fumes grow thicker, confirming the suspicion that they're coming from the main town square where the collections were always made. Elsewhere, the buildings appear to be intact. It's hard to see yet but the damage appears to be localised to the main square.
"Shall I drive in?" Jude asks, as we swiftly approach the town's southern border.
"No," grandma says, "stop outside. There's no need to attract unnecessary attention. The people won't have seen a vehicle like this before."
"We'll attract enough attention as it is, grandma," I retort. "Don't they all know about you now? Everything you've been up to? And what about me?"
"She has a point, Alberta," Jude says.
"Yes, I see that," grandma agrees. "But either way, let's stop outside. Park the jeep at the edge of town where it won't be seen."
Jude takes on the suggestion, as we hurry up towards the outskirts of the small town. After seeing Hunter's Station yesterday, it's quite jarring just how small Pine Lake seems now. Once it was the centre of the world for me. Living by the lake, this little town was like a grand city, full of people, full of activity. Now I've seen Olympus. I've seen New Haven. I've visited places inhabited by hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions, of people.
I think it's safe to say that Pine Lake doesn't feel so significant anymore.
We pull to a stop in the dirt, parking up against an old wall at the southern border of the town. We waste no time in spilling out, Jude grabbing his rifle and holding it to his shoulder as we begin jogging quickly down the main street and towards the square at the end.
The town is simple, a basic configuration; a main road cuts through it, with smaller side streets and basic buildings. There are a few trade shops here, a little bit of life, but not much. Mostly, the residents live here and work elsewhere, helping to rear and grow the food that needs to be given for tribute, or manufacture a few of the products the Olympians use in daily life.
At the end of the main street is where the square opens out. As with many such places, it's positioned at the northern side of town, easily accessible for Collector Ceres and his retinue to access without having to enter the town itself. We rush right for it, hurrying along the mostly deserted streets. Here and there, a few locals watch on from the safety of their homes. Further down and in the main square, other figures have gathered, loosely arranged into little groups, or standing alone, not quite knowing what to do.
They all seem to be staring at the large piles of burning material spread around the square. A few people work to put the fires out, though without a great deal of conviction. Mostly, they just stare, as though dumbstruck by what has happened. These are a people who have lived their lives not having to think for themselves. They exist in a simple system, and have done so for generations. Now, they're looking upon that system in flame.
Our arrival, however, draws many of their attention. I'm used to being looked at now
, having dealt with it for months. I hardly care what they know about me, whether they recognise me or think me real. I care only to find those we're here for. The rest, frankly, are not of immediate concern.
"Mother!" I call out, just as I did at the cabin. "Father!"
I look around but don't see them. Grandma does the same. We share a look, confused. Perhaps they returned to the cabin? Perhaps we've only just missed them?
The only solace is that I see no dead bodies around as we did in Hunter's Station. There, it had been little short of a massacre; dozens, perhaps more than a hundred, killed, and many more injured. Here, the only damage seems to be the burned supplies, and a few of the buildings surrounding the square, which seem to have caught fire as a result.
"They're not here," I say, still looking around. I turn my eyes up to the nearest group, staring at us from nearby. I faintly recognise them. It's a small town, and I've lived nearby it for almost my entire life. I'd be able to pick plenty of local residents out of a lineup. "When did this happen?" I call to them. "How long ago were the soldiers here?"
They stare at me for a few moments longer, looking almost fearful as they do. I feel my grandmother's hand rest on my shoulder. I look into her eyes, which drop to my armour.
It's glowing red, the subtlest signs of sparks dancing around me. The stress must be getting to me, setting a trickle of my power free...
"How long ago was it?" I hear my grandmother say. She steps towards them, more calm, though conspicuous herself in her flowing red robes.
"A...a few hours," one manages to say. "Three, maybe four."
My grandmother turns back to me. "That's enough time for your parents to get back to the cabin," she says. "More than enough." She turns her gaze around the square once more. "Do you know where else they might be?"
I try to think, but my mind comes up blank. In truth, my parents' lives were as simple as one could imagine. They rarely came to town, tasking me and Lilly with bringing our tribute for the monthly Collection. Their lives were by the lake, my father fishing and inventing, my mother running the house and family. I can't imagine where else they might be...
My thoughts, either way, are interrupted, as a figure begins stepping towards us from one side. I turn my gaze up and see her staring at Jude, eyes coiled into a frown.
"Jude," she says quietly. "You're...you're back."
Jude turns to her. "Auntie Grace," he says, calling out. He drops his rifle to the floor and begins rushing towards her, drawing her into a hug. I share a look with my grandmother and quickly follow, scooping up Jude's discarded rifle as I go.
"I never thought I'd see you again, Jude," I hear Grace saying, sobbing out the words as he holds her. "You were taken...and..." She draws back from him, and looks to his face, eyes falling to his scarred and branded cheek. She reaches out and gently touches his chin. "Defiant," she whispers. "They...branded you."
"It's nothing, auntie," Jude assures her, taking her hand, moving it away. "They can't hurt me anymore. They can't hurt any of us."
I see Grace's eyes turn to me and my grandmother, stepping in to join them. "Amber?" She shakes her head, frowning. "You're here too..."
"There's a lot you need to hear, auntie," Jude says, drawing her attention back to him. She looks over, as though caught in some dream, her skin pale. "But not right now," he goes on. "We've come here to make sure you're OK. You and Amber's parents. Do you know where they are?"
"We went to their cabin, Grace," I add, moving a little closer. "They weren't there. We assumed they'd come here with their supplies..."
She begins shaking her head. "I...I'm so sorry, Amber," comes her voice, croaking weakly from her throat.
Her words deliver a sharp dart to my chest. I feel the air stolen from my lungs.
"What happened, Grace?" my grandmother asks, remaining calm. Her voice is low, eyes intense. "What happened to my son and his wife?"
"They were...taken," she says, looking at my grandmother with a note of trepidation, and then turning against to me. "Your...your father, Amber. He spoke out, he spoke out against them." She looks to Jude now, tears building as her eyes fall again to his cheek. "They branded him right here in this square."
"Defiant?" grandma asks. "They branded my son Defiant?"
Grace nods, her head shivering up and down. "Both," she whispers, looking to me sheepishly. "Your mother too. She...defended him, and..." She shakes her head again. "They were taken."
"Taken where?" I growl, stepping ever closer.
"I...I don't know. They headed to the northeast. I don't know where they went..."
"I do." I turn to look at Jude. He stares right back at me. His hand reaches for his cheek. "The same place I was taken," he says.
"The camp for reconditioning?" I whisper, my eyebrows pulling together tight. "But...why? We're at war. How do they have time for that..."
"To make an example," my grandmother says, her voice suddenly deeper. "They must continue to rule through fear, even in times like this."
"But my parents are model Devotees!" I say. "They always were. They don't need to be taken to a camp to rebuild their faith."
I turn again to Grace, looking on the verge of collapse as she stands there, shivering, Jude's arm around her to keep her from falling. She's a quiet, reserved woman, but has never been weak. What she saw, what the entire Fringe is seeing, must have been enough to cause a break in her.
"You said my father spoke out," I say. "What do you mean by that?"
"Just that..." she whispers. "He began to lose his faith when you left. I saw him a couple of times. I saw what was happening to him. Then he just...snapped. He called out against the soldiers when they took the supplies, and burned the rest. He wasn't the man I knew. He was...different. It was like he'd given up."
I find my emotions conflicted at the thought, half heartbroken to imagine what my parents must have been through, and yet half proud that my father spoke out, even if it got him branded Defiant.
"He saw the light," I whisper to myself. "He saw through all their bullshit..." I look up again. "And my mother?" I ask.
"She...wasn't so vocal," Grace says, her voice trembling a little. "You know her. But I think she had started to turn away as well." She looks around at the devastated square. "Now, many more will too." Her eyes move to Jude's again. "We have nothing, Jude," she goes on. "What will we eat? How are we going to survive?"
"As we always should have," he says defiantly, earning his brand. "By fending for ourselves. The woods are still good for hunting. The lakes are good for fishing. We have plenty of game here, auntie. It's the other towns across the Fringe I'm more worried about."
She dips her eyes. "We heard. It's been happening everywhere. I just...I just can't believe it."
As Grace begins lowering her eyes again, sobbing quietly, I step in towards Jude and lower my voice. "Where were you taken?" I ask. "How far from here?"
He shakes his head. "I'm...not sure."
"You said you knew where!" I say.
"I do. At least, I think I do. I know the camp, Amber. I just don't know where it is." He looks out towards the northern plains. "I was blindfolded when I was taken. It felt like it took hours to get there."
My face curls up in a mixture of grief and anger and frustration. I clench my fists and feel the fires flashing around them. A few people gasp as they look on. I'd hardly even noticed they were still here.
"We need to get them back," I say, speaking to the ground, speaking to myself. I look up again and into my grandmother's eyes. "We have to, grandma. Do you...do you have any idea where this camp might be?"
Her countenance remains calm and in control. She shakes her head, yet speaks words to give me hope.
"No," she says, "but I think I know someone who might."
143
I sit in the back of the jeep, my grandmother right beside me. Up front, Jude has a new travelling companion in his auntie Grace, the four of us swiftly hurrying back to the car, and venturing back into the w
oods.
Yet this time, it isn't to my parent's cabin, or Grace's cabin that we're going.
It's to my grandmother's.
"What's this about, grandma?" I ask, still not entirely sure why she's leading us to her home. Her explanation hadn't been particularly extensive before she'd led us quickly back to the car, and ordered Jude to set off into the forest once more.
All she'd said was that she knew someone who might be able to help. And apparently, they're at her cabin right now.
"It's about the future, and the past," comes her reply. "There remain things I haven't told you, Amber. Things about my life that you aren't aware of."
"More?" I say. "More than you being a Chosen?"
I notice, in the front seat, Grace's eyes flare at the comment. She seems to come back to life a little bit, turning back to look at my grandmother. "You...were one of the Chosen, Alberta?" she asks. She looks to me as if expecting to see a smile on my face, suggesting it's all a big joke. Even in these circumstances, her face is almost comical enough to make me grin.
Almost.
"It's true, Grace," I say. "She was the first ever Chosen Fire-Blood."
"But...you've been living around Pine Lake ever since I can remember?" Grace says. "You're saying you're originally from Olympus?"
"Guilty as charged," grandma says. "Please don't hold it against me, Grace."
Grace holds up a palm and shakes her head, looking quite stunned as she turns her eyes from my grandmother, to me. I know what she's thinking without her having to speak. I don't need to be a Burns or Brie for that.
As Grace tries to get to grips with the idea that she has, essentially, been living nearby to a goddess all her life, I turn my attention back on the so-called divinity in question.
