David
It’s supposed to be spring, David thought with dismay and pulled the thick wool cape closer to his body. Only a small part of his face lay uncovered as he crawled closer to the fire, but still the damp cold of the Marshes penetrated his body, making old injuries ache. You’d think I would’ve gotten used to the cold by now. At the same time, he knew it was the void inside of him that really bothered him, like a piece of ice piercing his heart, and no fire could melt that away.
The soft breathing of the rest of his party filled the chilly air as they slept through the foggy night. His mind wandered back to the first time he had made the journey to the North using the back, discreet roads preferred by the First. It pleased him that he still remembered the way. Of course, this was the first time he led his group alone, not even the Voice in his head to guide him.
Despite his best efforts, his thoughts drifted back to the Voice and his breath caught. He felt gutted without her; empty and deserted. After the birth, the Voice had taken the new Orb to the Old Woman in a hurry. No! You’ve got to think of something else! He tried to focus his thoughts back to the fire, to no avail.
He ground his teeth, feeling as if he were standing on the edge of an abyss constantly threatening to engulf him. With a loud grunt, he turned on his side, trying to find some comfort on the thick hide that could only do so much to protect him from the sharp stones underneath. Cyrus suddenly sprang to his mind, adding fresh pain at the thought that he was running away from the man who had been like a brother to him; the man now ruling half the world. Despite all, he could not bring himself to hate him, and yet bile rushed to his mouth at his thought. Bitterness and guilt threatened once more to swallow him whole, and he shifted his weight once again, trying to focus on something else.
Through half-opened eyes, he noticed Gella. Her beautiful face hid how dangerous she could be. Her pain and loss were as great as his, and he felt a connection to her that surprised him. What was she doing there, with them? He knew she blamed him for Parad’s death, along with the rest of the world. That is why she had followed them as soon as they left the Chamber of Justice; to murder him as soon as she had a chance, avenging her lover’s death. He could not really blame her, either. They had not had a chance to discuss it yet; how could he convince her that he was not to blame? Stifling a yawn, he pondered the question; he could not even imagine where to start. The sight of the Voice giving birth had stopped her from killing him, but she might try again. She had grown up in Scorpio, and Scorpions were not known for their love of failure. Annoush, the young man who had become Parad’s unlikely friend, would be no match for her, that was certain. Even his two bodyguards might not be able to protect him if she ever decided to finish the job.
The two huge men were the only thing making him feel somewhat safe, and a wave of gratitude towards Tie, the head priestess of Themis back at the Capital, crashed over him. She had saved him for a second time, and had even returned his most treasured possessions; his e-lib, knowledge crystal and Sheimlek-dar. He felt the reassuring weight of his unusual, bracelet-shaped weapon on his wrist. The e-lib he had lent to Annoush, who had apparently been studying with Parad for a long time and was displaying a surprising fondness for reading; one that was only surpassed by David’s own love of knowledge.
He heard a soft sound close by, like leaves rustling in the wind, and looked around. The wind was whistling around the silent, immobile figure of one of his dark-skinned bodyguards. He thought it might be Lem, but in the darkness it was hard to tell. One of them was always awake, watching over them in silence, while the others rested. Lem and Ram had told him they were Maasai. Back on Earth, the Maasai were famous for their fighting skills and bravery; warriors who often worked as bodyguards. It was in this capacity that several of them were found on UES Pearseus. Once on the planet, they continued to offer their services to the community, establishing a group of warriors dedicated to protecting people. Many of these early survivors would have fallen prey to animals without their protectors’ ol alems; the trusted short swords they carried with them everywhere, inside bright red wooden sheaths. After Croix’s betrayal, the Maasai were among those who helped form the first army that protected the Capital from the Loyalists in the years that followed. War seemed to fit well these tall, proud men, but David yearned for security and peace. Can these things be had without men like these, though? He had no answer and wished the Voice was around to ask her, when he felt Gella’s eyes boring two holes in his head.
He pressed his lips together unconsciously. She scared him, but he would have to talk to her eventually. To explain. Drawing a sharp breath, he met her gaze. She did not flinch. Motioning her to follow him, they both raised themselves. He, clumsily, noisily. She, gliding like a shadow, with her usual graceful, feline movement. He stepped under an old evergreen, waiting for her to follow him. The musky fragrance of its leaves, still wet from the long winter, filled his nostrils and he fluttered his eyelids momentarily to draw a pleasing breath.
“You wanted to talk to me?” His eyes flew open to find Gella standing next to him.
He took a deep breath to mask his surprise; he had not heard her approach. “Yes, thank you. You must have many questions.”
Instead of an answer, she cocked her head slightly, continuing her unnerving stare. He gulped. “I liked Parad,” he blurted out.
Her face looked as hard and white as marble for a second, but she said nothing. Unsure of how to continue, he cleared his throat. “And I know you loved him. But you realise it was an accident, right?”
She ignored the plea in his voice and pointed at his wrist. “That weapon of yours… Where did you get it?”
He clasped the bracelet as if to protect it. “It’s called a Sheimlek-dar, the Whisper-slaying arrow. It was given to me by the Old Woman. She’s an oracle, I guess. And a friend. She speaks for the Lady.”
“The Lady, as in the First goddess?”
He paused, searching for the right words. “Yes, I guess that’s the easiest way to explain it. The Lady is like our Themis; mother and protector. The Old Woman tells the First of her will.”
“Then this Old Woman is very powerful,” was Gella’s simple reply. “Is that where we’re going?”
“Yes. She will know what to do.”
“Will she, now?” Her voice sounded doubtful, but she continued before David had a chance to respond. “You said your weapon is a Whisper-slaying dart.”
“Arrow,” he corrected her, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, it makes no difference. Yes, it’s one of the few weapons that can hurt the Whispers.”
“Who are these Whispers and where did she get such a weapon?”
She wastes no time getting to the point, he thought, trying to figure out the best way to explain. “The Whispers were here before us.”
“They came with the First?”
“No, the First and the Orbs want to stop the Whispers. You know the Orbs, it’s what you saw back –”
She interrupted him with an abrupt movement. “I know what I saw. I was going to kill you, then a light blinded me.”
He clasped his hands together to hide their slight tremble at the thought of how close he had come to dying. “That light was an Orb giving birth,” he hastened to explain. “They fight the Whispers, invisible creatures who wish to hurt us. The Whispers arranged the accident to drive Cyrus away from us and into their arms.”
Amusement and doubt chased each other on her face. “If they’re invisible, how do you know they exist?”
“There are ways to see them.”
She smirked and raised her hand, pretending to empty a flask. David’s face flushed in anger. “It’s the truth. This war has been going on for a hundred thousand years. The Whispers corrupt everything they touch. They can even turn Orbs into Fallen.”
“More myths,” she said, snickering.
He reached into his pocket to pull out the knowledge crystal the Old Woman had given him. He had been studying it for years before realis
ing that the crystal studied him back as well. Its recordings, originally in the ancient First language, had somehow been translated into English, David’s language, which presumably the crystal had assimilated while in his possession.
He stole a look around them before placing it in her palm. Holding it tightly, he muttered the trigger words. The crystal pulsed briefly and lit up, projecting light in front of them. Her hand jerk under his, but he held fast. She threw him a startled look, then gazed at the swirling mist in front of them. It cleared into images of humanity’s first landing on the planet, some hundred thousand years ago. Then, it dissolved into scenes from battles. Man fought man, egged on by the Whispers. They witnessed the destruction of countless colonies and finally of Earth itself, the blue marble turning into a grey, desolate world, almost void of humans.
This was followed by the long struggle of the Orbs and the First to survive on Pearseus, while humanity began its glacial restoration of civilisation back on Earth. Then, he showed her some more recent recordings, for he had found out that the crystal continued to record. When she saw Parad as they found him on the streets of Jonia, she drew a sharp breath like an inaudible sob. His heart sank, but he knew he had to continue. He had to earn her trust; not just because he had no wish to wake up with a knife in his back, but also because deep in his heart he felt a connection between them, a common fate that they shared.
She watched, mesmerised, as the crystal showed her scenes from the time David had spent with the general. When they reached the final part, where Parad was killed, he paused the crystal and looked at her, a silent query in his eyes. Her bloodshot eyes met his, but her face bore no expression. She nodded curtly. He continued the playback and held his breath; he had never watched that part himself. Would the Whispers show, or would they be invisible? To his surprise, it displayed the scene as he remembered it; perhaps a crystal “saw” through the eyes of his owner?
She bit her lower lip as the crystal showed them pairs of hungry red eyes flickering in the shadows of Cyrus’s office. She stared in disbelief at the tentacled limbs that writhed in the room as David raised his Sheimlek-dar and Cyrus tackled him, Sheimlek-dar still shooting, to dispel the creatures. And she bit her fist to drown a loud cry, an inhuman howl of immeasurable pain, as Parad gaped in disbelief at the burn hole in his chest before slumping onto the cold floor.
The scene faltered away and the forest seemed to release its breath again. Everyone’s attention was fixed on the projection from the crystal. Annoush’s eyes were wide open, while Lem and Ram looked on, alert yet immobile. He nodded reassuringly and the guards relaxed somewhat. David was unsure as to how much of that they had watched; probably all of it. It mattered little; he wished the whole world knew the truth. Then they could all unite against the real enemy.
He turned his attention back to Gella. She looked like she needed to be consoled, but he had no idea how to do this. “The crystal leaves out the important stuff,” he said, trying to gather his thoughts. He was uncertain for a moment. She stared at him through pained eyes.
“Gella, what do you remember from the stables?”
She seemed confused. “You exploded in light. Then there were two small lights hovering above you, but they disappeared soon after.”
“Those are the Orbs.”
“Of course. The Orbs.”
He could not decide whether she sounded sarcastic or not. “They can talk to me; I don’t know how. There’s much I don’t understand, but they tell me stuff, things from their lives. Words that make no sense to me, but they ring in my head, like they have to get out. No, not just words. Smells. Sounds. Even when they’re not around, I can hear their thoughts and memories.”
She stared at him, saying nothing. He drew a long breath; he had no idea how she would react to the next part.
“It’s happening right now, even as we speak. A moth-bee that smells of lavender – does that mean anything to you?”
Her gaping eyes answered his question. A second later, a flash of raging fire replaced the surprise in them. “How do you know? How can you? He…”
Her voice trailed off, but before he could answer, the pleasant smell of lavender and citrus replaced the spicy smell of sodden leaves and wet soil around them, and he glanced, startled, around, trying to pinpoint the aroma’s origin.
“Do you smell that?” he asked.
She looked at him, confused. “What? Don’t change –”
“No, seriously. It’s lavender. And citrus.” He stood up, sniffing the air like a dog. “But where is it…” He noticed her look and froze. “What?” he asked.
Her face was ashen as her hand clasped her dagger. “Explain yourself,” she growled.
He gulped and sat back down. Fear clawed at his throat; he found it hard to stop his voice from trembling. Her eyes were cold as death and for a moment he thought his best chance would be to run away, shouting for his bodyguards to save him. No! This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, a voice said in his head.
He cleared his throat. “The general. It has to be him.”
“Parad’s dead,” she said, her flat voice covering the emotions betrayed by the white knuckles clasping the hilt of her dagger.
“I don’t know how, I swear. But if all that means something to you, it has to be him.” Flashes of a distant shore filled his mind, making him cringe. What is that? “Wait, you don’t understand. Death is not the end. He hasn’t died, he hasn’t left you. He’s returned, only in different form.”
She stared at him with suspicion, her dagger almost unsheathed. “You’re lying.”
“You have to believe me! Dying is like falling asleep. One moment you’re on your bed, the next you’re somewhere else. You may not remember the transition, but it’s still you, whether you’re awake or dreaming.”
She took another step in his direction and he had to stop himself from crying out in fear.
“If this is a trick…” she rasped.
“It’s not, I swear! I don’t even know what all that lavender crap means.”
She glared at him for a moment, then pushed the dagger back into its sheath. He stared at her, ready to bolt, when he noticed with surprise tears welling up in her eyes. He took a step towards her and she started sobbing quietly, offering no resistance when he took her in his arms. He was even more surprised when she held on to him, then realised it was Parad she was holding in her mind, not him.
“I’ll have my revenge,” she whispered, and the steel in her voice made him shiver.
Before he could answer, her hand rose and the silver metal of her dagger shone in the moonlight. She had unsheathed it with a speed that shocked him; one moment it was at her side, the next it threatened to slit his throat. He jerked back, but she held him close, her body hiding her armed hand from his bodyguards. A shout caught in his throat. He cursed himself. She must have unsheathed it while I was consoling her. Now what?
He opened his mouth to shout, but could make no sound. His knees felt weak, and he feared he would faint.
“Shhh…” She grazed his neck with the blade. “If what you say is true –”
He bobbed his head as far as he dared. “It is, I swear.” His voice sounded muffled.
“I believe you. That means that Cyrus is in danger. I owe it to his father to protect him, but I can’t do it from here. I have to go back.” He blinked, not understanding. “What is the easiest way to gain his trust?” she asked.
To bring him my head?
A thin smile crept up her lips as comprehension dawned in him. David clenched his teeth at the feeling of the cold blade sliding against his skin.
April 306 AL
Chamber of Justice, the Capital
Cyrus
“Thank you for seeing me,” Angel said as she crossed into the room. “I had some ideas I wanted to run past you.”
Cyrus looked up from the report on his e-lib. He smiled at his sister and waved out the guard escorting her. Angel leaned closer and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Sh
e smells like mother, he thought, the unbidden memory startling him.
He looked away and a pang of pain shot behind his eyes. “Yes, so did I,” he said.
“Okay, you go first,” she said with a nod and a smile.
He raised himself to his feet and rubbed his temples. His head had not stopped hurting in ages and he took a sip of wine from an ornate lead goblet that sat on his desk.
“Isn’t it a bit early for that?” she asked him, more surprised than annoyed.
He swished the wine in his mouth as he set the goblet down. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, then motioned her towards the large sofa.
She jumped on it and leaned back. “I love what you’ve done with Dad’s office,” she said, looking around. “But why is it so dark? May I draw the curtains? The room could use some fresh air.”
She crinkled her nose at the room’s heavy smell, but he shook his head and sat on a soft leather chair next to her. The last thing he needed was more light stabbing his eyes. The mere thought of it sent a wave of pain to crash on his head, a soft groan escaping his lips.
She threw him a worried look. “Are you alright?”
He ran a hand through his dirty hair, avoiding her questioning gaze. “Just a bit of a headache, that’s all.”
She seemed unconvinced, but did not insist. “I’m sorry. So, what did you want to discuss?”
He drew a deep breath. This was not an easy matter to address, but he had given it much thought and felt confident about his decision. Still, he did not know how she would take it. Or, rather, he did; which is why he stalled. “As you know, you and the twins are the most important people in the world to me.”
She nodded and leaned forward. “We love you too,” she said, smiling.
His lips curled upwards, but the smile failed to reach his sunken eyes. “But we live in perilous times. Jonia has proven a worthier adversary than we expected, and our coffers are all but empty. We need a victory, and soon. Ideally, without any bloodshed.”
“Paul Gauld is a man of limitless ambition,” she replied, her brow furrowing in thought. “But he’s not stupid. Perhaps you could offer him something to entice him. What’s his weak spot?”
Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series Page 33
