by T. C. Edge
I leave them with those words and promises, returning to Jude and my grandmother as they wait at the door.
"Take care of them, Jude," I say. "I know you'll be busy with your new duties, but keep an eye on them too."
He nods. "Of course I will," he says.
I give him a hug, and then move back out of town, heading for the outskirts. Ten miles only, I think. Ten miles to go.
And with Jude absent, I finally get a chance to get behind the wheel myself.
It might be a long ten miles, after all...
152
"I don't know what Jude was moaning about," I say, pressing my foot down on the accelerator. "There's nothing to it."
My grandmother looks across to me, raising her eyes. "Amber, you almost drove us into a ravine. Don't get cocky."
"I...I was just testing the acceleration," I counter. "It just, er, got away from me for a second."
"Yes, well let's keep the testing to a minimum, shall we," she says. "I'd like to get to the fort in one piece if we can. After all we've been through already, it would be a shame to die together in a car accident."
She is, of course, exaggerating slightly. I only got close to the ravine; there was never any risk that we'd fall in. And it wasn't very deep anyway. I don't know what she's talking about.
Grinning to myself, I set my eyes on the structure forming in the distance, the fort quickly materialising. The space between Hunter's Station and the fort itself is generally very flat and good for driving, the ten miles covered in little more than fifteen minutes at a reasonable, steady pace. With, of course, the odd period of proper speed as I ran one of my tests.
Now, it's beginning to bloom into view, appearing from the haze that hovers around the lands here. It's a particularly barren stretch, surrounding the fort. There's little greenery, little life. It does, of course, afford a tremendous view in all directions, but other than the occasional rift and ravine, there's not a great deal to look at. At least, not for me. I imagine a Farsight would have more to say on the topic. I wonder, in fact just what life is like for them. They must experience the world so differently to the rest of us.
And...someone like Kira, with her multiple advanced senses? I can hardly imagine what that must be like.
"Do you reckon they're back yet?" I ask idly, looking ahead as we rumble towards the fort. "Kira and Ares I mean."
"Having never met either of them, Amber, I really cannot judge," grandma replies.
"Yeah, but I told you all about them. About their mission. Surely they're back by now."
Again, my grandmother merely shakes her head and sighs. "We'll find out momentarily, Amber. There's little point in talking about it now."
She seems a little on edge right now, perhaps owing to the growing responsibility on her shoulders. She is, in essence, the de facto leader of the entire Fringe. As a people, we have lived disparate lives, separated into various regions and towns, rarely interacting with one another except through trade. It's quite amazing that she managed to unite so many under the banner of liberation.
"How did you travel about?" I ask her, as we press on, the fort swiftly growing in detail before us. "When you were trying to build your network, build the Liberation League? Jude and I were wondering. He thinks you probably posed as a merchant and used the common trading routes?"
"He's right," she confirms. "That's how it started. I was careful, obviously. Nothing too dangerous. Everything above board. Soon enough, I made contacts who helped smuggle me around to places I wouldn't have been able to access otherwise. It took years, Amber, to grow."
"And this was always your plan, from the start?"
"Well, the original goal was escape, as you know. What's happening now was never my intention. It's a coincidence, really. Something we need to take advantage of."
"And vengeance?" I ask, glancing over to her as the outer walls of the fort build ahead of us. "Was that part of your plan?"
She looks at me for a moment, and then nods. "I have desired vengeance for years," she admits. "Against the Prime. Against the Overseer. But, I never truly thought I'd get it. Not with my powers reduced to what they were."
"And with them fully returned?" I ask.
She shrugs. "We'll see," she says. "Perhaps another happy coincidence will occur, and I'll get my chance. But, I'm not banking on it, nor will I pursue it if it will lead me astray. Vengeance," she sighs, "is a young woman's game. I'm too long in the tooth for that now."
I turn back, and slow the car as we approach the southern gates, not entirely believing her. There's something in her eye that suggests she still craves revenge more than she's letting on. And yet, I know that her responsibilities will always come first. The people will always come first.
The gates begin to open as we arrive, folding inwards to allow us entry. I notice immediately that a great deal of work has been done bolstering the walls and gate itself. Still, as we drive through, I see the work continuing. A number of Titans see to it, ably supported by a few of the Neoroman telekinetics, trying their hand as being Forgers.
As we go in, it seems that several areas are under reconstruction. Supplies seem to have been gathered from elsewhere, perhaps another fort or quarry nearby to here, used to fill in gaps in the walls and towers and strengthen the fortifications. Moving into the main yard, I look for a place to pull up and park. As I do, to my surprise, I see Perses marching through, carrying a huge block of stone on his shoulder. His top half is exposed, his fitted armour hanging down around his waist, his enormous, muscular body rippling with sweat as he labours under the sun.
I sense my grandmother almost freeze at the sight. "Oh my," she whispers. "My, oh my..."
"Grandma," I say, pulling the car to a stop. "You're old enough to be his mother. Pull yourself together."
"But young enough to still have a heartbeat," she responds, her voice breathy. "Which is running quite fast right now."
I shake my head and tut, pulling the car to a stop. Perses sees us through the front window and immediately drops the great cube of stone to the ground, landing with a heavy thud that sends shivers through the earth.
"Hey, Perses," I say, stepping out and smiling. "Looks like you've been busy."
"Working night and day," he says, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'm sure you can say the same. You've been gone for days, Amber. We were starting to get worried."
"Ran into some trouble," I say. "Where's Secretary Burns? We have some things we need to report."
"He's up in the tower, I think," Perses says. He turns to look at my grandmother as she makes her way out of the car. The delay suggests she's taken a few moments to compose herself. "Hello, Alberta," Perses goes on. "It's a great relief to see you both back safe."
"Yes, of...of course, Perses," she says, trying desperately to not look at his gigantic chest and the deep striations in his shoulders. The scars that cover him aren't quite so attractive, his frame written in a great variety of them, old wounds from fire, bullet, and blade alike.
"And...Jude?" Perses asks. "Is he not with you?"
He asks lightly, clearly noting that my casual demeanour means he's just fine.
"He's back in Hunter's Station," I say. "There are thousands more gathering there from all over the Fringe."
"Oh?" he says, interested. "I did hear that the sentries spotted some caravans and wagons heading in that direction. Why are they gathering there?"
"Under my orders," my grandmother says, managing to come back to her senses just a little. "The people of the Fringe aren't willing to merely cower and crawl anymore. Many are willing to fight."
"I see."
I turn my eyes forwards again, looking through the yard. "Did Kira return yet?" I ask, trying to spot her flaming red hair.
Perses smiles. "See for yourself," he says, glancing behind me.
I turn at that, spinning around to find the famous redhead herself strolling towards us from another part of the yard. She looks well enough, though seems to be carrying a f
ew minor injuries. There's even the suggestion of a light limp on her left foot. Evidently, she's seen a bit of fighting too.
"Kira," I say, quite brightly. "You're back."
"I could say the same to you, Amber," she says, marching in with that highly efficient style of hers. "You've been gone for, what, two days? Three?"
"Technically, two days, two nights, and then the whole of this morning," my grandmother says, drawing her attention.
Kira looks over to her, dipping her head. "So, this must be the grandmother I've heard so much about," she says. "Your reputation precedes you, Alberta."
"As does yours, Miss Blackstone," my grandmother replies. I have to admit, among our many conversations over the past few days, I've talked about Kira and Brie a fair bit. "I've heard all about your defeat of Herald Nestor from Amber. She looks up to you, I think."
"Grandma," I hiss, darting a nasty glare in her direction.
"What?" she says. "You do, don't you?"
I can't tell if she's merely being completely tactless, or purposefully trying to embarrass me. Either way, it's unacceptable.
"If that's true," Kira says kindly, "then I should count myself very lucky. You're more powerful than I am, Amber. There's really no need to look up to little old me."
"But...you're taller," I say, awkwardly and trying to be humorous. It doesn't go down that well. All I get is a light chuckle from Kira, though slightly delayed. "Er...anyway," I say quickly, attempting to recover. "You're much more experienced than me, and a much better fighter. I'm only more powerful in that I can burn down cities. Frankly, that's not that useful most of the time. But your powers..."
"You can do more than just burn down cities, Amber," Kira says. "Don't sell yourself short."
"Oh, she can do a lot more than that," my grandmother says, purring out the words. "You should have seen her yesterday morning. She's better than I ever was already. She's even learning to..."
I wave my hand quickly, shutting her up. I know what she's about to say and I don't want that getting out yet. It's too early to tell if I'm going to be able to develop that power.
"So, Ares back as well?" I ask, changing the subject. "We saw Maximus before we left. What happened to you, exactly?"
"He's back," Kira nods. "We...well, we had a bit of trouble outside the walls of Olympus. Our jeep was destroyed and we had to make it back on foot. There seems to be a lot of activity out there. Patrol soldiers. Soldiers gathering supplies. We even began spotting the local people being gathered too."
"We've seen the same," I say. "They're being taken to the city apparently. So, when did you get back."
"Yesterday," Kira says.
"And everything with Brie?" I ask. "All that stuff with her brother. Communicating with him?" I shake my head. "Sorry, I don't really understand it that well. Did you, er, get through to him?"
Her face turns grave as she nods, her emerald eyes turning deep and distant. "I did," she says. "Brie is at the heart of Olympus now. She has...met with the Prime. Felt their power." She turns her eyes away. "I have felt it too."
"You...felt it?" I ask. "How?"
"The bridge," she whispers. "The neural connection. I could see, almost, what Brie was experiencing. I could feel that strange joy as the Prime looked at her." She looks to me, and then to Perses. "I understand what coercions you were under now. I understand how powerful it is. And I only got a rebound, a shadow of it. The real thing must be...hard to contend with." She draws a slow breath. "We have our work cut out here."
"We do," says my grandmother, "but that is no reason to lose hope. Not an ounce of it, Kira. We must preserve all we have. None of your people will have experienced this power, so it is good to see that you have felt a glimpse of it at least, and can attest to its effects. But know that the Prime's influence is limited. And if we can blot out their glow, then it should allow others to see more clearly."
"That's why we're here," Kira says, smiling at my grandmother. I can tell they're going to get along. They both seen to commit to a fairly no-nonsense attitude.
"And I hear there are plenty more of you coming?" my grandmother asks. "An entire army of you, or so I'm told?"
Kira nods. "Runners just returned this morning," she says, a hopeful look in her eye. "They made contact with our forces to the south, and have told us they're coming more quickly than we'd anticipated. They should be here in four days if we're lucky."
"Four days," I exclaim. "That's excellent."
"Dom works fast when he puts his mind to it," Kira smiles.
"Ah, Dom," says my grandmother. "Yes, your husband-to-be, Emperor Domitian. You're quite the package, aren't you, Kira. Gifted killer. A prize beauty. Engaged to one of the most politically powerful men in the world. It does make me wonder why you're here?" she asks. " Why fight when you have others to do it for you."
"Because that's all I've ever known," she responds quickly. "And Brie is my best friend. I was never going to let her be taken without a fight."
"Then she's lucky to have you. It sounds like she couldn't hope for a better friend."
Kira dips her eyes again, her thoughts meandering away.
I look at my grandmother and wonder just what is it about her that has her dominating almost every encounter she involves herself in. She doesn't know Kira, and hardly knows Perses, and yet she's completely taken over the conversation.
It is the ironclad confidence fashioned over many years on either side of the divide. She truly is a formidable woman.
"Now, I would like to speak with Secretary Burns," my grandmother goes on. "I'd request that a number of soldiers be sent to Hunter's Station to help them keep watch. You said he's up in the tower, Perses?"
"I believe so, yes," Perses says.
"Right then," grandma says. "Lovely to meet you, Kira. I'm sure I'll be seeing more of you soon." And with that, like a whirlwind to match the one spawned by Herald Gailen, she marches right off.
"Er," I say, staying behind. "I guess I should follow."
"Quite the woman, your grandmother," Kira says, watching her storm away.
"I'm beginning to learn that too," I say. "She's a lot...more than what she used to be."
"All in a good way, I hope?" asks Perses.
"At a time like this," I say. "Definitely."
I follow at that, nodding to the others as I leave, and rushing to catch up with my grandmother. We ascend the tower together, noting that the areas within that required repair remain in a state of ruin. It isn't the priority, I suppose. Really, bolstering the defences is the only necessity, and even that is probably more to do with keeping the troops busy than anything else.
We venture right to the top of the highest tower, where Secretary Burns holds his quarters. It is a place of prominence for the highest ranking official we have. At least, that is, until the Emperor arrives. I do wonder how the dynamic might change when the Neoromans appear, assuming, of course, that they bring the bigger force. I already witnessed a fractious moment between Commander Hendricks and Commander Maximus before I left. I imagine the general feeling among the Neoromans will be that they hold the greater power and authority here. Being led by a Havenite, even one as well respected as Secretary Burns, will not go down well.
Then again, Burns himself is smart enough to know that he'll probably take a slight step back when that happens, and defer to Domitian, or whomever happens to be running the Neoroman army. After all, war is their arena, a domain they dominate. The Havenites have shown themselves adept at defending their city, but staging a siege of one is very different indeed.
We reach the summit of the tower, then, and approach the front door to the central quarters. Before my grandmother knocks, I hear voices beyond. Burns has company, it would seem.
When my grandmother knocks, and the door opens, I'm surprised to find that it's Elian who answers. His eyes widen as he sees me standing there, a smile surging onto his face. "Amber," he says. "When did you get back!"
The look on his face is so genuine
ly lovely, so heartfelt, that I respond with a similar look of my own. I step in and hug him, ignoring his question for a moment. I hear my grandmother moving past, slipping by and into the interior of the main living room. It's typical of the aesthetic of the castle and fort; architecturally interesting, and yet fairly worn down. Like the other rooms and quarters, a lot of the furniture seems to be missing too.
"We returned just now," I hear my grandmother say, as I melt temporarily into Elian's arms. "We just came from Hunter's Station, Leyton," she goes on, clip clopping on the wooden floorboards towards him. "There are things I need to speak with you about."
I pull back from Elian and we turn to engage in the conversation.
"Of course, Alberta," Burns says. "First of all, welcome back."
"Thank you," she says. "It's been a long few days." She turns to Elian at that. So far, the two haven't officially met. "Hello, Elian," she says to him, a little more stiff in her delivery than normal. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Elian steps away from me, and in front of my grandmother. He adopts as polite, as respectful, a posture as he can manage, keen to make a good impression. "And you, um, Alberta," he says, saying her name slightly awkwardly, as though he's suddenly not sure if he's getting it right. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Likewise."
"I...I hear, also, that you were the first Chosen Fire-Blood. Before my father?"
"I was," she says. She manages the bare hint of a smile at that. "It seems that line may end with you, once all this is done. It'll be a select group we belong to."
Elian smiles. He has such a handsome face, especially when stripped of the arrogance he used to bear.
"I was sorry to hear of your father's death," grandma goes on. She's making an effort, at least. "He was a fine Fire-Blood."
"Thank you, Alberta," Elian says.
