by H. R. Moore
Cordelia had arrived home the following day and cleaned the kitchen twelve times before she realized it would do nothing to bring Bas back, nor wash away what had taken place in her kitchen. After that she’d joined Anita in silent mourning, taking Thorn for long walks or sitting quietly in the garden, wrapped up against the winter chill.
Bas’ funeral took place a week after Austin’s in the Body Temple in Empire. Alistair refused to let the Councillors and remaining Descendants process in behind the coffin, instead telling them they could sit amongst the rest of the congregation as would have been his son’s wishes. The funeral was low key, Bas’ favourite, rousing classical music accompanying his coffin both into and out of the Temple, Alistair, Rose, Anita, Alexander, Cleo, and a member of Bas’ band carrying the coffin, all clad in full length black robes with hoods. The coffin and Temple were abundantly decorated with Bas’ favourite wild flowers; purples, whites and greens covering every possible surface.
The funeral was short, Rose reading a poem and Alistair giving a moving eulogy that not only praised his son’s academic achievements at the Observatory, but also his steel and determination when it came to sticking up for what was right, especially at Council meetings. He finished by saying Bas would want everyone to continue that fight, that nothing had been more important to his son than stabilizing the energy; that was after all what he had died to protect.
They processed out, not a dry eye to be found, and Anita saw Gwyn slip out of the back of the Temple. She felt sorry for her. Bas had never introduced Gwyn to Alistair or Rose as his girlfriend, although of course they had known something was going on, and Anita realised how difficult that must be. She’d been so close to Bas in his last few weeks of life, yet was now entirely excluded from the grieving of his family. But then again, Gwyn hadn’t been to see Alistair or Rose since Bas’s death, and although Anita assumed it was because she didn’t want to impose, it was a bit strange.
Bas’ body was cremated, in accordance with his wishes, and his ashes scattered from the roof of the Observatory. Alistair, Rose and Anita did it together, a respectful silence falling over them as what remained of Bas fluttered away on the breeze, Rose leaving as soon as it was done; she had never much liked the Observatory. ‘See you at the wake,’ she’d said as she left, the death of their son having done nothing to bring Alistair and Rose closer together, something akin to hatred bubbling just under the surface of their energy.
‘Anita, there’s something I need to tell you,’ said Alistair, turning to face her as the last of the ashes disappeared, heading, Anita was glad to see, in the direction of the river.
‘What is it?’
‘There’s no easy way to say this,’ he said, his tone business-like, efficient, ‘so I’ll just tell you and you can ask me whatever questions you like.’
‘Okay,’ she replied, puzzled.
‘You’re the Body Descendant, not Gwyn.’
Anita took a deep breath and turned awkwardly away from him. ‘I know,’ she replied. ‘Helena told me. She told me the whole story about my parents; how they met in the Wild Lands when Jeffrey was there on Institution business, how Peter and my mother were swapped at birth, how my mother wanted to swap Gwyn and I, but Peter refused, and about how Helena betrayed my parents, which led to the fire at the Temple where they died.’
‘Why?’ he asked simply, this not at all what he’d expected.
‘Because she wants my help and it was the only way for her to regain my trust.’
‘You can’t possibly be planning to help her after all she’s done?’
‘I don’t think there’s much of an option not to,’ said Anita, dejectedly, turning back to look Alistair in the eye.
‘There’s always a way. Now that Austin’s gone, we’ll persuade Marcus to help you, Alexander and I find a way to return the relic.’
‘And what if we don’t find a way to do that in time?’
‘We will.’
‘You and I both know that’s highly unlikely, and anyway, I’ve already agreed to help her, and...,’ Anita paused, knowing what she was about to say was crossing a line.
‘And what?’ his eyes bore into hers with increasing intensity the longer her pause stretched. ‘Anita? And what?’
‘And you’ve already been helping too,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Bas became a member of the Institution a while ago and he and Anderson were working on finding a way to send the relic back. They couldn’t find anything that would send it back for real, but Bas thought if we could make it look like it had been sent back, that would buy us enough time to find a way to send it back properly.’
‘The energy slingshot?’ he asked, realization dawning. Anita nodded. ‘I don’t believe you. Bas would never have got involved with the Institution, he knew how much I hate them.’
‘He thought it was the only way, and he was enjoying the excuse to spend some time with you whilst you worked on his theory. He thought you enjoyed it too, what with everything else going on.’
‘I did enjoy it, but if I’d known what it was for, I would have put an end to it. You’ve got to leave the Institution Anita, we’ll find another way.’
‘I’m sorry Alistair, I can’t. I’m afraid it’s what Bas wanted and after what he did for me I owe it to him to see this through.’
‘Then I’m afraid this is where we part ways Anita. I’m sorry to say it, but you’ll have to learn the hard way how poisonous that group of people really is.’ Alistair left, leaving Anita to contemplate his words, but nothing he could say would change her mind; Bas had been committed to the energy slingshot, so she had no choice but to help bring it to life.
*****
Bas’ wake was held that night at The Island, and it got more than a bit out of hand. Bas’ band played, Cleo provided copious quantities of free alcohol, each batch of punch more lethal than the last, and the butcher from Temple Mews provided a hog roast for what seemed to be the entire population of Empire, although that wasn’t surprising given that food was so scarce. Anita avoided Rose, Gwyn and Alistair, instead opting to sit on the decking out the back for most of the evening with Cleo and Alexander, refusing to go inside, even though they were now firmly in the grips of winter and it was freezing.
Helena arrived late, never enjoying social occasions where she was likely to get stuck speaking to people she didn’t know, who invariably possessed only half a brain, and therefore could have nothing of interest to say. She spoke briefly with Rose, then Alistair, who quickly made it plain she wasn’t welcome, before mercifully spotting Timi en route to the exit. She followed him out, happy she’d done the dutiful thing but that she could also elicit some excuse about having to speak to the Spirit Leader if anyone commented on how she’d stayed for such a short length of time.
‘Didn’t think a wake would be your kind of social occasion,’ she said to Timi’s back, as the bar door slammed closed behind her.
‘Right back at you,’ came his patronizing drawl.
‘How long are you here for?’
‘I haven’t fully decided. I’ll attend the Crowning and the Chase, assuming they have one, and after that, it all depends.’
‘Oh? On what?’
‘On how your plans go to send the relic back.’
‘I see,’ Helena smiled, ‘so you know about that.’
‘You thought I wouldn’t find out? I’m your handler, not to mention the Spirit Leader, of course I know.’
‘I knew someone would tell you eventually.’
‘Yet you tried to hide it from me anyway.’
‘I don’t think I’m the only one hiding things these days, am I?’
‘Really? How delightful. Who else has a secret?’ Timi’s eyes were alight with the game they were playing.
‘Don’t toy with me Timi. The rest of the world is on the brink of starvation, yet you’re stockpiling resources and have not once complained of a lack of food. In fact, all the monks you brought with you look positively chubby.’
‘I’ll make
a mental note to put them on a diet,’ he said, dryly.
‘What are you up to? How come you have enough food to go round when the rest of us barely know where our next meal is coming from?’
‘I have money.’
‘So do I, but money alone isn’t enough in this climate, and there’s something different about you too...something’s changed.’
‘Well I suppose it’s just a case of survival of the fittest. Those who can best fend for themselves will find life not too challenging, whereas those who can’t will have to tell a different story.’
‘You’re stockpiling resources that belong to everyone; they’re not yours to hoard.’
‘Says who? I say they should go to those willing to stand up and take what they want.’
‘We won’t let you fatten yourselves on the Cloud Mountain whilst the rest of us go hungry.’
‘Fighting talk Helena. Firstly, we’re not doing anything wrong. All we’re doing on the mountain is utilizing the resources available to us as best we can. We may be doing that better than the general population, but then we don’t have to deal with the petty politics of the Descendants, so we’re better able to look after ourselves. Secondly, I’d be happy to show you around the Cloud Mountain personally to give you some ideas as to how you can better manage your own affairs. Thirdly, even if you did try to stop us, you would find it very difficult, so I suggest you direct your limited resources elsewhere.’
‘I can put barriers in the way of your shipments.’
‘No you can’t. Traders follow money, not politics, and you have bigger things to worry about here than what we’re doing on the Cloud Mountain. Goodnight Helena, a pleasure as always.’
*****
‘Marcus, I can only keep the business going for so long without your help. You’re the Descendant, not me, and your father wanted you to take over, that’s what he was training you for.’
‘So you keep telling me,’ said Marcus, enjoying the turned tables; Amber now having to wait for him to call the shots.
‘And we need to define our strategy. It’s only a matter of time before the rebels I saw in the Wild Lands attack; we have to be ready with a show of strength.’
‘Of course,’ he paused, pretending to be fascinated by a painting behind his father’s desk, the desk which now belonged to him, ‘they may decide not to attack given my father is dead. Their aim has been accomplished for them.’
‘Don’t be naïve. They want change and Austin’s death alone won’t give them that, they want to overthrow the whole system as we know it.’
‘You say that like it would be the end of the world,’ Marcus replied lazily, less because that’s actually what he thought, and more because it was a sure fire way to wind Amber up, ‘and never call me naïve,’ he said, his eyes flashing a warning that made her hesitate.
‘Of course it’s your decision, I’m just advising you as I did your father. If you want to keep your position, you need to do something. There are farms to run, taxes to collect, an army to feed and pay, not to mention the Institution and the rebels who will sooner or later become a problem. Have you heard anything more about the Institution’s plan to stage a return of the relic?’
‘Not yet,’ he said, bored of Amber sounding like a broken record, ‘but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.’
‘And? What will you do?’
Marcus fixed her with unamused eyes, ‘I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,’ he said finally. ‘For the moment, just keep running everything as you did before.’
Chapter 14
They congregated in the valley where the ball was to be held several nights later. There were steep hills on either side hemming them in and an angry young river that wove its way through the middle, white froth bursting upwards as it hit rocks with mighty force. The valley was thirty five miles outside of Kingdom, slopes on either side that in the summer were lush and green now frost covered, making the contestants feel cold just looking them as they huddled around waiting for the Descendants to arrive. Alexander had suggested Anita arrive with him, but she’d refused; she couldn’t think of anything worse than providing more gossip fodder to the crowd.
Last time she’d stood next to Bas before the Chase, but now she stood by herself, isolated from the other mingling contestants, trying to ignore that they were, without exception, sneaking looks at her when they thought she wasn’t looking.
The Descendants eventually arrived, robed and chaperoned by a gaggle of Councillors, who were all vying for position within the uncomfortable group. As was tradition, Alexander and Peter would not be competing, their status as ruling Descendants affording them the luxury of adjudicating rather than the pressure of competing. Gwyn and Marcus on the other hand, by the same force of tradition, were propelled to participate, and more than that, were to carry the weight of expectation to finish, if not first, then very near the top of the pack.
Anita shot Alexander a protracted look as he removed his hood and motioned both the contestants and crowd into silence. He hadn’t given Peter the opportunity to lead proceedings, assuming that role himself, and as expected, Peter had meekly complied.
‘Descendants, Councillors, contestants, children of the Temples of the Mind, Body and Spirit, I welcome you here today to the Chase that commemorates and celebrates the life of the Mind Descendant, Austin.’ Alexander’s tone was business-like; he was not solemn, nor did he engage in the usual pomp that went along with an event such as this. The circumstances around Austin’s death had, thank the Gods, not made it into the public domain, however this did nothing to compel Alexander to say any more about Austin than was absolutely necessary. He was certainly going to avoid anything that might be construed as a compliment, the funeral had been infuriating in this regard, and Alexander wouldn’t stand by and let that happen again. The man had been nothing short of evil, and even if he couldn’t tell the people this, he wasn’t going to lie to them.
‘Today, the challenge is for our contestants,’ he lingered on Anita as he scanned the participants, his energy jumping as he took in her battle ready stance, ‘to be the first to either catch the runner who set off from here thirty minutes ago, or, if no one should succeed in this, then to be the first contestant to make it back to the relic. The runner you will be chasing has taken the quickest route back to Kingdom, so it would be prudent to try and track him, if you are able.’
A murmur went up from the crowd; this format had never been used before and there were whispers of ‘I hope no one catches him or we’ll miss the end,’ and ‘not sure about this.’ Alexander smiled inwardly; so funny how people always find a way to hate change, he mused.
‘Contestants, please take your positions.’ As he said the words, several Councillors stepped forward. Two went to Marcus and Gwyn, taking their robes, Marcus looking gaunt and tired as he handed his over, and several others ushering the contestants to the start line, lining them up so Gwyn and Marcus had the best spots right at the front. ‘You should follow the river downstream until you come across two paths leaving the bank. At that point, you must decide which direction you will choose.’ Then, abruptly, not allowing anyone time to prepare, he said, ‘I declare this Chase open,’ bellowing the word ‘open’. The contestants jolted into action, Anita sprinting off behind Gwyn, who had, somehow, quite shamelessly jumped the gun, Anita rolling her eyes.
They followed the river downstream for a couple of hundred meters before two paths split off, one gaining a little ground, but broadly appearing to follow the river, and the other taking a more severe path up the incline and disappearing over the top of the hill to their left. Gwyn slowed as she surveyed the options, Anita needing no such indulgence, spotting the dents of footprints along with patches of frost free bracken on the higher path. Anita raced past Gwyn, easily dealing with the change in incline, putting her head down and focusing only on placing one foot in front of the other.
All the others followed her, so even if she had been wrong, so would everyone else be. T
he thought gave her a brief smug moment as she reached the summit, to face another choice of paths. It went on like that for miles; inclines, steep declines, forks where they were presented with two, three and sometimes four paths, several of which had rudimentary dummy trails laid to try and throw the contestants off the right path. Some of them succeeded, especially when it came to those contestants who were now out of sight of the leading pack, but those who had managed to stay with Anita were for the most part just following her, some of them suspecting Alexander had told her the route beforehand. Of course he hadn’t, even if he’d tried to, not that he ever would have, Anita wouldn’t have let him; there was no joy to be had from winning through cheating.
Several exhausting hours later they were nearing Kingdom, the spires and walls clearly visible, only Anita, Marcus, Gwyn and a couple of young Councillors now left in the leading pack, when they caught sight of their prey. He was running in a straight line for the city across the flat open fields that surrounded the capital, no more twists and turns, it was simply a straight sprint for the finish. Anita upped her pace, wanting nothing more than to get this over with and to put as much distance between her and Marcus as she could. Since Austin’s death he had barely been seen by anyone, and the venom he was directing towards her had the effect of sucking the energy out of her, leaving her feeling emotionally drained and lifeless. She wanted to scream at him that Austin had been the one who had sought her out and tried to kill her, that Bas’ death was all Austin’s fault, but she could barely bring herself to look at him, let alone muster words to speak.
