by T. C. Edge
I brace as he looms, a colossal figure of doom. The fog in my mind mutes my emotions, dulls the dread, the fear, of my impending death. He unsheathes a blade, this man I look up to like a father. My mentor, my guide, now readying to kill me.
The knife comes plunging, raised high to strike, but from the gloom I see a glint of silver, and hear a tinny ping. A knife hits, connecting with Perses's dagger, ricocheting off and past his face. It draws blood, slicing through his cheek. He leans back and grunts, hand planted to his face, red smeared across his palms as he looks out into the night.
And there, a creature comes leaping, a shadow appearing from the gloom. Kira, with dual blades aloft, strikes at Perses with a flurrying attack, cutting high and low, trying to push him back. For the first time, I see Perses stutter, moving backwards, almost tripping on loose stone. The attack gives him pause, the conflict in him rising. I scramble to my feet, hope lifting, and rush in to join the fray.
I don't last long.
Kira doesn't last long.
And nor does the doubt infecting Perses's mind.
With a bellowing pulse of rage, he finds another gear, turning things around on us, launching a sudden attack. Kira's eyes widen, colour draining from her skin. The great Olympian roars, and quick as a whip, reaches out and takes her throat. He lifts her high as I rush in, unthinking, screaming as I go. His eyes are on me before I know it, and his fist reaches out to take my neck too.
I'm lifted into the air, my throat strangled, the fires around my armour doing nothing to deter him. I cannot blaze too hot, or I'll burn Kira alive.
It matters not, something inside me says. She's dead either way. And so are you.
He holds us there, children in his massive hands. The conflict haunts him behind his eyes, as though locked away, his body possessed. I stare at him, pleading, though unable to speak. A few scrappy noises escape my lips, but nothing more than that.
I feel my head going cloudy, the air to my brain blocked off. My mind swirls with thoughts, with people. My family, my friends, the people I love.
The people I've failed.
I manage to look across at Kira, one hand around Perses's wrists, struggling to break free, the other still holding a blade, futilely poking at his armour with no power to get through.
And slowly, like me, she begins to relent, as her eyes begin to go out...
"Stop."
The word seems to sound inside my head. It is too clear, too pure, too loud above the storm. I blink and look into Perses's face. His eyes flicker wildly, frown dropping, rising, falling again...
"Let them go, Perses."
I feel his arms beginning to shake, as though we're suddenly too heavy for him. His grip weakens, white-knuckled hands relaxing. My airways open back up, oxygen pouring in. The fog in my mind is blown away, life clinging to me like a limpet on rock.
Slowly, Perses lowers his arms, and his fingers un-cling, withdrawing from our necks. I stagger, legs weak, as Kira does the same. We manage to hold each other up. And then, she turns.
I follow, looking through the storm, a figure stepping towards us through the falling rain.
I look at her in wonder, so calm and poised. Her brunette hair falls down her neck, soaking wet, her body hugged by a simple grey cloak. She looks to me, and then her eyes fall to Kira. Were it not for the rain, the tears would be clear.
"Hey, Red," Brie whispers. "I thought I'd come and save you for once."
206
BRIE
I look at Kira, her face breaking with relief, and step quickly in towards her. Our bodies clash, hugging tight, her arms shivering as they cling to my back. It is the embrace of a best friend, of a sister. A embrace of someone who thought she was going to die.
I draw back from her, our usual roles reversed. In the past, I've been the trembling, weeping wreck, she the calm, composed warrior, ready to greet any and all situations with a stony face and indomitable will. Now, she crumbles before me, temporarily breaking down. I hold her in my arms, and nod slowly as I draw up her eyes, those emeralds as beautiful and dazzling as ever.
"It's fine now, Red. It's OK, it's done."
She nods, firming up, though her face flashes fear as she turns to look at Perses. The man stands colossal, but lost, his eyes tormented, body battered and bruised, deep slash on his cheek weeping blood. I slowly release Kira, as Amber rushes over to her side. I offer her a smile, squeezing her arm. "You're a marvel, Amber," I say. "Truly."
She manages to grin, an almost childlike expression. No words come as she clutches Kira's arm, and I turn to step away, going face to face with Perses.
I stand a metre or so before him, gazing up into his troubled face.
"Be calm now, Perses," I say softly. "You have not been yourself."
I slip into his mind, so easily now, so unlike before. When I'd broken in back in New Haven, and discovered the Olympian plot to burn the city down, I struggled for some time to work my way inside. Now, I step right in, uncontested. There is no security at the door to stop me, no blind alleys blocking my path. I merely blink my way in, turn my eyes around, and sweep off the Overseer's controls.
In the blink of an eye, it is done.
I draw back, step to the rear, and see the shroud in his eyes disperse. He looks around, as they all do, confused as to what he's done. It takes only a moment before it all comes flooding back.
"Amber," he whispers, his voice a croak, "Kira. I...I am so sorry, I..."
"It wasn't you, Perses," I say, calming his tongue. "They know it already. It wasn't you."
His eyes fall upon me. "Brie," he says, nodding. His utterance of my name carries so much with it. "I have heard...so much about you."
"And I you, Perses. It is nice to officially meet."
His head dips, shameful. He cannot help it, his eyes turning again to the others, standing side-by-side behind me, shaken by the fight. "Will you ever forgive me?" he asks them. His great body bends, head tipped low. "Will you forgive me for what I did?"
I turn, smiling, as I look at them. They step forward as one, Kira now pulling herself back together, assuming her regular countenance. And, knowing her, quite embarrassed to have shed a tear in front of us.
"It's OK, Perses," Amber says. "It wasn't you."
He nods, head remaining low. It tilts to Kira. "It wasn't you," she repeats. "You are not to blame. We all know who is."
Her words helps to relight his fires. He draws a breath and his expression firms. Yet a final question, a final shame, remains.
"Is Ares all right?" he asks.
The answer doesn't come from any of us, but from the man himself.
"I'm fine, Perses," rumbles his voice, stepping over from the shadows, Marcus by his side. I had asked him to check on Ares as we came out here. Lady Dianna, too, I know to be alive. "But my word, you do pack a punch."
The relief on Perses's face is quite palpable. "As do you, Ares," he breathes. "I can only apologise for..."
"Apologise nothing," Ares tells him, looking a little unstable on his thick, trunk-like legs. "It has been clear you were not yourself. And I have never taken a beating quite like that. It is...rather humbling, I have to say."
"You were only trying to subdue me," Perses counters. "I was trying to kill you. It was not a fair contest."
"I disagree, Perses," Ares returns. "I did not hold back, if that's what you think."
"Oh, but you did. I could sense it, even..."
"Enough." Their eyes come to me, looking up at them both. "You can compete over who's more modest later," I say. "There remains a lot of work to be done."
Everyone nods, the group falling silent. I look at each of them, some carrying injuries, all looking weary to some degree or another. Only Marcus is completely fresh, and likely itching for a fight. I turn to him, however, with another request first. "Bring Lady Dianna to me, Marcus," I say. "She needs to be shown the light."
He nods and speeds off, as I turn to look at Kira. "You did the right thing, Red," I
tell her. "Knocking Dianna unconscious. She seems a good lady."
"She is," says Amber, eager. "You can...free her mind?"
"It shouldn't be a problem, Amber," I say. "I know what I'm doing now."
She looks at me, that wonder in her eyes still there. I remember it from when we encountered each other back at the Olympian camp outside New Haven. That fateful night when I was captured by the Overseer, and she was taken herself during battle, and then freed from the grip of the Prime. I cannot know for certain how that happened, but I assume it was Secretary Burns who released her.
"How did you escape their grip?" she asks me. Her eyes move to Kira. "Kira said...it was your brother?"
I nod, perceiving Zander smiling fondly in my head. "It was him, yes," I confirm. "All of this, really, has been him." My eyes turn away to the city down below. I cannot see it, not with my own eyes, but I can see it through so many others. I flash through a dozen so quickly, looking upon the wild carnage down below. So many have fallen already. So many more will follow in the tragic hours to come.
"The people?" Kira asks. "Those you awakened. They're...under your control now?"
I can see the concern in her eyes. She remains slightly guarded, even now.
"They fight for us now," I say, nodding. "But I am not controlling them, Kira. I have shown them the way, and they fight of their own free will."
From the side, Marcus reappears, carrying Lady Dianna in his arms. He places her down onto the wet stone floor, a large bump protruding from the back of her head. I kneel beside her in the rain, and place my hand to her forehead. I work quickly to remove the Prime and Overseer's controls, yet choose not to wake her. Her mind and body need to recover. Sleep will suit her well.
"She is free," I say, standing. "She needs some time to recover."
Perses nods and takes action without prompting, lifting her into his arms. He nods to me, as if for approval, knowing I see his mind. In a flash, he speeds off, returning her to her home upon the hill. The man is so fast he returns only moments later, rejoining our group as my eyes turn up, inevitably, towards the Temple of the Prime.
They are there, I know. All three of them are there.
"The battle spreads through the city," I announce to the group. I turn to them, gathered around me, expectant as they wait for me to speak. "Zander has given me a window into the minds of those I awakened, and the soldiers whose powers I was forced to fully unleash." I flash again, and perceive the square below, right at the bottom of the steps. The fight is gathering there. Heroes of both sides are converging. "You cannot delay here," I say. "The longer this fight goes on, the more people will die."
I look at Amber, something sparking in her mind. I know immediately she is thinking of her sister. "Go," I tell her. "Do what you must, Amber."
She stares at me, unblinking, though her head begins to nod. Taking a step back, she turns, heads away into the night.
My eyes work to the others, to Perses and Ares, both battered from their fight. I do not need to give them advice, or tell them what needs to be done. Everyone here knows it already. My words would be a waste of air.
"What will you do, Brie?" The voice belongs to Perses, his barrel chest filling. His eyes move towards the eastern edge of the plateau, to the temple hidden in the gloom.
"I will face them," I say. "I will face them alone."
"No," says Kira, stepping right towards me. "No, you can't do that, Brie. What if you fall? What if you're not strong enough."
"I have to be," I say. "And I have to go alone. Any of you could turn, and you're all needed elsewhere." I lift a smile, somehow knowing. "I will not fall," I say. "Zander will not let me."
My words are enough for some, but not for Kira. Again, she shakes her head. "Let me come with you, Scout," she says, using the nickname I now find so fond. "I can strike from the shadows. They'd never see me coming..."
In my mind, I hear a whisper. The camp, Brie. The voice is Zander's. The camp is coming under attack.
I frown, fearful, and blink through a hundred eyes. I find a pair upon the battlements, belonging to a gifted, awakened Hawk. I assume temporary control of him, turning to look out into the night. There, I see Olympian soldiers pouring across the plains, rushing towards the main encampment away to the south. And among them, I sense Herald Avon, leading the charge.
I draw back, glowering. The Overseer must have commanded it. An order to forge chaos in the ranks...
I look again to Kira. There is something far more pressing for her to attend to now.
"You must go, Kira," I say. "You must go immediately." I turn to Marcus, steadfast by my side. "Both of you, make for the base to the south. There is no time to think, or waste. You must go. Now!"
Kira's green eyes craft into a desperate anxiety. "What? What is happening, Brie!"
“Herald Avon is leading a charge. They will target the leaders, destabilise the attack. Dom will not be safe."
Nor will Adryan, I think, my chest seizing tight.
"Dom," she whispers. "Is...is Max still with him?" Her face twists into a scowling panic. She looks at me, pleading, hoping I tell her yes.
"I...I don't know," I say. "I can't see that far, Red."
She nods, breathing heavily, her eyes flashing to Marcus.
And in a flash, they're gone.
"I must aid them," Ares says, growling the words, turning their way as they sprint towards the stairs. "I must help defend the Emperor."
He lets out a heavy breath, reaching to his side in pain. Perses looks at him, regretful. It seems to me like a broken rib or two.
"Kira and Marcus will see to it," Perses says, placing an arm on Ares's shoulder. "There are plenty of others who need helping down below."
Ares grunts and stands tall, grimacing. "I must go, then, and lend aid where I can," he concludes, perhaps realising that he's too weakened right now to reach the camp in time. It is miles to the south, I know. Only a fully fit Dasher would be able to get there soon, and his injuries look like they'd impede him.
"I will go with you," Perses says, his injuries seeming more superficial. I know that he has the power of advanced healing, something I don't think Ares possesses. "We fight together now, Ares," he says. "As brothers in arms."
The two men nod at one another, standing tall. They look at me a final time, Perses's eyes a question.
Are you certain, I hear him say, reading his thoughts. Are you certain you wish to go alone, Brie?
I stare right back, and show him my conviction.
"I'm certain," I say.
And with those words, I turn, and begin walking to the Temple of the Prime.
Thinking of Zander.
I'm not alone.
207
KIRA
The city passes as a blur, fighting filling the streets. With Marcus by my side, we flood as quickly as we can, only engaging when we must. Bullets zip and fly. Explosions abound. I draw back my fears for Dom, forcing myself to focus, scanning for all possible threats as we go.
In Marcus I have an ally of wondrous capability. He always had a very similar skill set to me, as quick if not quicker, his eyesight just as sharp. He can hear like I can too, I think, though doesn't have my sense of smell. His focus, aim, and physical agility are all second to none.
"Sorry for punching you," he calls, as we press swiftly for the southern walls, our preternatural senses giving us clairvoyance to avoid danger as we go. We duck and weave as bullets ping, moving so fast we can rush right through flame, dodging carriages and bits of rubble as they're tossed about by Brutes and telekinetics alike. "You forgive me, right?"
"I'd already forgotten, Marc," I shout, speaking the honest truth.
I pant and puff, trying to keep up with him. Yes, I've been fighting for a while, but still, he seems quicker than he used to be.
"Have you been...powered...up?" I gasp, ducking under a carriage as it's flung over our heads.
He nods, chin fizzing up and down. "Brie did it," he says, not having
to pant like I am. "I had more potential locked inside me. Who knew," he grins.
We rush into the main square, as I lay eyes on it for the first time. It's hard for me to concentrate or care, to take in the multi-coloured tiles, to look upon the various routes leading to strange, and unique districts in the distance. I have eyes only for the gate, a small, vertical-lifting portcullis ahead, with a short tunnel leading to a larger gate beyond. The dead and dying already proliferate. The square is swift becoming a morgue.
We press on in a split second, Marcus dragging me out of the way of a charging Brute as we go. He quickly takes him down, leaping up behind him and sending a perfectly aimed gunshot through the back of his head. The Brute collapses to the floor in a heap. Marcus lands and continues on, not missing a beat.
My face coils nervously as we clatter down the tunnel, our footsteps echoing in the tight space. I can see more fighting going on outside now, dead bodies lying upon the bridge. We pass by, rush on, the rains beginning to ease. On the horizon, I sense the suggestion of light, a new dawn not far off.
The softening of the storm helps improve visibility. We pace across the vacant plains, no longer needing to dodge or worry. A large expanse lies ahead, the camp several miles away. We power up our speed, moving as fast as we can. I hardly have the breath to answer when Marcus's lips call out a question.
"How many were defending the camp?" he bellows, his brown eyes, now ringed with hazel, staring out towards the base.
"I...don't know," I pant. "But they...wouldn't have left it...unprotected."
"And Maximus? He's guarding the Emperor?"
I don't answer, brows pinching tight. For all I know, Dom might have insisted Max go and join the battle. I wouldn't put it past him. Please, tell me he didn't...
Lights begin to flash ahead, guns fizzing in the night sky. I see some of the defensive gun placements in use, firing at a collection of enemy soldiers, taking cover behind some rocks. Beyond, more figures fly and fire. I can see dozens of them pressing into the camp. Many others lie dead on the border, many of the defending soldiers quickly overcome.
