by Matt King
Good point. He took a step forward, causing her to take a step back. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m an American.”
“What are you doing out here? Alone,” she added.
“I’m headed the same place you are,” he answered on instinct.
A lock of curly brown hair blew across the woman’s forehead as she studied him. She nodded once. “My name is Kayde,” she said.
He smiled. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”
She returned his smile, then looked nervously over her shoulder. “Come,” she said, nodding toward her tent. “Before they see.”
A small battery-powered lamp lit the inside of her tent. It sat on a block of wood between her sleeping bag and a small blanket, where Emma curled up. The dog’s legs shook as she rearranged herself to coil into a bundle.
“She has never gotten used to the cold,” Kayde said. She took hold of the blanket’s corner and pulled it over Emma’s lower half. “We try not to go outside often with the winter, but…”
“How did you get here?” he asked.
“I should ask you that first,” she replied. She sat on her sleeping bag. “If you are American, how did you survive?”
He took a seat opposite her on a bare patch of floor. Emma eyed him cautiously as he tried to come up with a quick story to explain how he could have lived through the blast. Despite taking him in, the woman looked ready to toss him on his ear if she didn’t like what she heard. If he started with I’m a god-powered fighting machine, she might just do it.
“I was a world away from here,” he said.
“The tropics?” she asked.
“Bermuda,” he answered, hoping that the island had survived. He kept going when she didn’t bat an eye. “I came back not too long ago.”
“When you heard the message?”
Message? Maybe the army had sent out a call for survivors to help. “Yeah, of course. The message is what did it.”
She nodded. “We were at home,” she said, looking to Emma. “Like all others, I was beginning to lose hope. The food was nearly gone. Water, too. I thought The Last Winter had consumed us after all.” She waved a hand at the door. “As for food, this is why I wanted to hide you. For now. The others, they are not so kind when dealing with people they have not agreed to escort, but I remember what it’s like to feel lost and hungry. Here, you are welcome.”
He thought back to the groups of men sitting around the fire. “Did you pay them to bring you here?”
“Of course,” she said. “We could not wait for the government to decide what they wanted to do, or how to do it. The EU, they take forever, and they do not trust. I did what I thought was best for us both.”
His mind was still on the message that brought her across the ocean, but he wasn’t sure how to ask about it without breaking his cover. A traveling band of pirates wasn’t at the top of his list of groups that would take kindly to being introduced to his alien friends.
“Do you have money?” she asked.
“Sorry, what?”
“Money. To pay.” She rubbed her fingers together to illustrate. “If you have some money, they may allow you to share in the rations.”
When he didn’t answer, she looked to the door like she was afraid someone would listen in. Her voice dropped. “I have kept some, extra. Mostly for Emma. I could give some to you, this food.”
“No,” he said. “Keep it. I’m not hungry.”
She laughed. “Then you are the only one.” She cast an eye toward his suit. “Are you a diver? What do you call it… SCUBA?”
“I found this at a military base in D.C.,” he said. “Keeps me warm enough.”
“I had to pay for this,” she said, tugging at her plush coat. “The bastards took much of what I had left.”
“So how are you all getting to the…place?” he asked, hoping to tease some information out of her.
“It seems beautiful, no?” she asked, smiling briefly. “So warm. Nebraska. Am I saying this right? I keep showing the picture to Emma for hope of keeping her spirits high.”
He hesitated, stunned that the group was going to Nebraska too. Maybe she had the state wrong. Nebraska wasn’t exactly the tropics. “May I see it?” he asked.
She rifled through a bag beside her pillow, taking out a handful of drawings on scraps of paper. “I love to draw. We all have to have hobbies, no?”
He started with the top picture and thumbed his way through the stack. One of the pictures showed a pair of tall doors in between a range of mountains. Definitely not Nebraska. The center of the doors had a white inlay with thin lines shooting away to show them giving off light, like a diamond. The next image was a rough sketch of buildings, closely situated like a city but almost all the same color. Above them was a castle that seemed to be hovering in a cloud. He couldn’t help but notice how prominent the sun was in both pictures, flooding everything with yellow light.
The final picture in the stack was of a woman. Her hair was nearly white with just a hint of blonde, silver streaks running throughout. Her eyes were gray with shards of white. She was beautiful. In her white robes, she looked like an angel.
“This one is great,” he said, holding it up to her.
She smiled. “That one is my favorite. I keep telling myself that she may not be real, but that does nothing to make my excitement less. We can’t wait to meet her.”
“Meet who?”
She looked at him, confused. “Lady Amara, of course.”
Amara. His body froze. His eyes fell to the picture. No, this can’t be.
“August? Is something the matter?”
A growing commotion outside cut short an anxious bolt that nearly made him jump to his feet. She shuffled past him to the tent door and unzipped the top to peek out.
“My god,” she said, her voice shaking with excitement. “They are here.”
She unzipped the tent all the way and walked outside. Her face lit up. “Come!” she said, talking to Emma rather than him. “Come and see!”
The dog unfolded herself from her blanket and padded outside the door. August rose slowly, his heart still thumping in his chest. Were they all deluded? Had Amara put the whole world under her spell? He looked outside the tent to see the camp crowding around the far end of the clearing. Emma and Kayde joined the group at the back. A head shorter than the rest, she stood on her toes to catch a glimpse of whoever had shown up.
He looked down again at the picture of Amara, her smile welcoming and kind, her eyes cast down slightly. For the first time, he noticed the rows of hands beneath her reaching up.
He let the picture fall and walked outside.
There’s nothing to worry about. If it’s her, she can’t touch me.
But Talus could.
He picked a spot just past the light of the fire. He squinted to catch a glimpse of the newcomers.
A woman stood at the head of the camp accompanied by a handful of guards in white armor, their faces covered by full helmets. When he saw her white hair, his stomach lurched, but then he saw that it barely came down to the base of her neck. She had electric blue eyes and skin that was porcelain white. Her robe was form-fitting on top, with her arms exposed and a hood resting around the bottom of her hair.
“You are all welcome here,” her celestial voice sang over the crowd. Their voices hushed. She repeated the message in four different languages before coming back to English. “Our Lady sends me to ensure safe passage to your new home. My name is Polaris.”
Her eyes scanned the crowd as she spoke. August made sure to put as many people as he could between him and the newcomer.
“Before you gather your things, it is my sad duty to ask if you have come into contact with any of the aggressors that threaten this world. Raise your voices if you have seen or spoken to any of these men.”
Thin beams of light shined from her eyes, projecting an image in the air. It flickered before coming into focus.
“This is The Guardian,” she said.
<
br /> August’s mouth hung open as he watched an image of Bear form on her screen. His profile rotated, showing the beard and longer hair that he had back in the early days of the war. The image switched to a scene from Galan’s world showing Bear in full armor as he ripped through the machines. It looped back to the profile picture before fading away.
“The Guardian protects this man. You know him as Gemini.”
Protects Gemini? A knot formed in his gut. What the hell is she talking about?
A picture of himself appeared over the crowd. Several of the men started shouting obscenities. His face was shown covered by the reflective blue shield of his mask. Like Bear, he was also pictured in action at the facility with his sword staff cutting through the carapace of a spider.
A second image formed on screen, this time from his visit to the prison when he confronted Michael. His face was clearly visible as he stood in a hallway of bloodied and dismembered security guards.
His eyes drifted down to the crowd. Kayde stood in back, no longer trying to peek over the heads of the others. She turned around slowly, Emma held tight in her arms. Her eyes found him in the darkness.
Don’t, he mouthed.
Her lips trembled. She retreated into the crowd. “He’s here!” she cried out. “Gemini is here!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“You’re early,” Meryn said. She sat alone on the deck of the Terrestrium next to a raised garden of purple flowers.
Bear edged out onto the platform from the elevator. His knees still felt wobbly from the ride. When he’d looked up from the ground, all he saw of the Terrestrium was a thin wire leading into the clouds. Then the floor felt like it took hold of his feet and he was racing skyward with nothing between him and a thousand-foot fall other than a piece of glass that barely came up to his waist.
The edges of the Soraste’s sky garden didn’t look any safer. A thin angled shield surrounded the circular platform, he guessed to deflect the winds. The thin wire at the center of the elevator continued into the air. When he looked up to find its end, he saw the black edge of space merging with the blue sky.
“It is beautiful up here,” Meryn said. She stood to greet him. “Peaceful.”
“I think I’ll feel more at peace when I have some dirt beneath my feet again,” he replied. “I’m not used to heights.”
“None like this, I’m sure.”
He stood next to her and stuck his neck out slightly to look over the edge. Series 51 was a bustle of small lights below, with the western sun lighting the edge of the ocean on the horizon.
“Pretty,” he said. He took a step back and looked for a place to sit. Luckily, the benches didn’t have a view of the ground.
Meryn took the seat beside him. “Soraste and I used to come up here to talk, back before all this began.”
“She seems to like you.”
Meryn smiled. “I’ve always had an appreciation for her outlook on things, which is why I’m grateful that she’s decided to join us. Having Balenor’s pledge was an unexpected surprise. I thought he would need more convincing. You did well, as I knew you would.”
“Don’t know about all that.” For a moment, he locked eyes with her, and a rush of nerves bloomed in his stomach. He looked away, pretending to take interest in the greenery.
She placed her hand on his. “You’re anxious,” she said. “Why?”
He shrugged, fighting the urge to block his thoughts from her. She’d always said she didn’t want to read his mind, but he couldn’t help but feel a little exposed around her. “Tough to explain, I guess.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know. I guess you just make me a little nervous is all.”
“But not in a bad way, I hope.”
“No,” he replied. “I wouldn’t say that.”
His palms were slippery. They left a handprint on his armor when he lifted them away. How he longed to be in a pair of jeans again, even if it was just to hide his nerves.
“I feel ridiculous,” he said.
“You shouldn’t.”
“It’s like I’m back in grade school choking on words in front of Wendy Thompkins.”
“Hm,” Meryn said with a slight smile. She smoothed the fabric of her dress over her knee. “And what would you say to Wendy Thompkins if she were here today?”
“Not sure,” Bear said. He scratched the wiry hair of his beard. “Last I heard, she was half my height and wore the same size clothes as me.”
Meryn laughed. He couldn’t remember her ever doing that before. It was good to hear, even though it was cut short.
A low humming sound preceded Balenor’s arrival on the bridge of the Terrestrium. Soraste followed soon after through a synapse. On the other side of the portal, Ion hovered above her cauldron, connected to a spider web of wires and tubes. His shell glowed white.
“I hope we’re not interrupting,” Balenor said with an uneasy smile.
Soraste gave him a darting look before settling onto the bench across from Bear and Meryn. Balenor stood beside her.
“We were just discussing old times,” Meryn said. “Thank you both for coming.”
Balenor looked around. “Where is Paralos?”
“He sent word that he is scouting,” Meryn answered. The frustrated look on her face said a lot about her opinion of the message. “Nevertheless, he knows I speak for him. I was hoping we could discuss our plans for the days ahead.”
“You mean, our plans for recruiting more to our cause?” Balenor asked.
Meryn nodded. “But first, how go your preparations?”
“Ion is nearly ready,” Soraste said. “We’ve discussed what’s happening. And what is at stake. I think he understands what he must do.”
“He must learn how to fight,” Balenor said, “and soon.”
Soraste knitted the air with her fingers. “It took some convincing, but he allowed me to inject the knowledge. I believe he understands how to use it.”
“Splendid,” he said with a shake of his head. “A working knowledge of warfare may come in handy before all is said and done. Please tell me you have others.”
“Why would I?” she asked.
“Wh—why?” Balenor looked pleadingly at Meryn and then back at Soraste. “Soraste, dear, unless you’ve forgotten, you will forfeit your life if all your champions are defeated. To have only one is lunacy. Look at Galan! He created an entire army of champions.”
“Diluted,” Soraste said softly.
“Diluted as they may be, they still outnumber anything we have, and he’s managed to create an army that could slay anyone we might put in front of them.”
“August and I faced him before,” Bear said. “He can be beaten.”
“Wounded, maybe, but not beaten. He’s too smart.”
“Ion is smarter,” Soraste said. “By a factor of—”
“Oh, spare me the technical enumerations. If wars were fought on theory, they might actually be useful.”
Meryn glared at him, a stern stare that made him waver on his feet.
“I apologize,” he said. His expression deflated. “Forgive me, Soraste. I’m afraid the last two days have me somewhat on edge.”
She shrugged a single shoulder without looking up at him.
“And what of your champions?” Meryn asked.
“I’ve selected one. Currently looking for others,” he answered. “There are a number of worlds I’m considering to populate their supporting army. I believe you’ll be impressed when you see them.”
“I hope so.” She rose and walked toward the edge of the deck before turning to face them again. “We face a harder choice than finding those to fight for us. We need to concentrate on those that will fight with us.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Balenor said. “I’m also hoping you’re not thinking what I think you are.”
“We have two choices,” Meryn answered. “Anemolie will never leave Amara’s side. Her sights are too set on taking Galan’s place one day. That lea
ves Tamaril and Cerenus.”
Balenor crossed his arms and shook his head, looking at his feet as he did so. “It leaves Tamaril.”
Bear tried to diffuse a potential fight between them before it started. “What makes you so sure?” he asked.
“Tamaril is smart, too smart to truly believe the things Amara preaches. We can appeal to his sense of right and wrong.”
“He voted to find me guilty, did he not?” Meryn asked.
Balenor could barely look at her. “That is exactly my point. He voted to find you guilty because you were.”
Meryn’s eyes flitted to Bear before she replied. “You know as well as I do that the vote was not truly about my guilt.”
“Yes, but Tamaril has never been one to play politics. He is a thinker, not unlike Soraste. In my estimation, he voted the way he did because he believes in laws, not apparitions.”
“I’m afraid I don’t share your faith in him,” Meryn said. “I have never known Tamaril to oppose Amara.”
“When has he been given the opportunity?”
“Do you forget Ule so easily?”
Balenor stammered. “It was a different time. We were all scared of her then, and the laws were new to us.”
“The fact remains that only a few of us have ever openly defied Amara’s wishes. Tamaril is not one of those.” She paused. “But Cerenus is.”
“Cerenus,” Balenor said, almost as though he had to spit the name out. “He is a liar and an opportunist.”
“But he is one of the strongest,” Soraste added.
“And one of the most infuriating. Everything is a game to him, and our situation is most certainly not a game.”
Meryn stepped closer to the center toward Balenor. “You’re right. He is arrogant, infantile, and self-absorbed. I can’t deny that. However, he is just as cunning as Tamaril and, unlike Tamaril, he shows no love for Amara.”
“We don’t know that,” Balenor answered.
Meryn raised an eyebrow.
“Let me restate,” he said. “He has shown some resistance, but there’s a difference between egging her on in front of the Circle and outright defiance.”
“Cerenus is no coward.”
“Well, no, but is he willing to place his bet one way or the other?” Balenor asked. “He isn’t likely to take a side unless he’s assured of being on the one that’s going to win. If we were to talk Tamaril into joining us, Cerenus would surely fall in behind him.”
