by H. R. Moore
‘Okay,’ said Helena, ‘but what about Marcus? Amber will be there watching his every move and we have reports saying she’s already trying to get him more involved in Austin’s work.’
‘I’ll try first,’ said Milly, ‘he’s my son after all. I’ll talk to him before the ball though and if that doesn’t work someone else can have a go later.’
‘Who though?’ mused Helena.
‘Anita,’ said Alexander, to the surprise of everyone present.
‘What?’ choked Anita, not quite believing what she’d just heard. ‘How can you think that would be a good idea?’
‘You killed Austin,’ he said simply, ‘and Marcus will want to know more about what happened. You’re the only one who can give him that.’
‘He beat me up less than a week ago,’ Anita pointed out indignantly.
‘Yes, but he still has feelings for you, any reader can see that.’
Anita flushed, ‘that doesn’t mean he’s willing to even speak to me, let alone trust me enough to buy into the plan.’
‘Alexander does make a good point though,’ Helena added, ‘the heart makes people do crazy things; it’s got to be worth a go.’
‘Did it ever work for you?’ asked Anita, wishing as soon as the words had escaped her lips that she could claw them back.
A shadow passed behind Helena’s eyes, ‘no,’ she said quietly, ‘but I never stopped trying.’
A heavy pause filled the air, the whole room looking expectantly at Anita. She took several deep breaths, reading Alexander’s disappointed energy as she considered her reply. ‘Fine,’ she said, eventually, ‘I’ll do it, but don’t be surprised if it totally backfires, and if that happens I’m not sure what we do.’
*****
Milly knocked on the door of Cordelia’s suite and she answered immediately. ‘Yes?’ asked a surprised Cordelia, she hadn’t expected a visitor, let alone the mother of a Descendant. Cordelia had come to Kingdom to see Anita when she’d heard what had happened during the Chase and didn’t realize anyone else even knew she was there.
‘Ah,’ said Milly, taken aback by Cordelia’s frosty greeting, ‘is Anita here? Alexander thought she might be.’
‘Yes.’
‘May I please speak with her?’ Milly’s patience was wearing thin; not used to being treated with so little respect.
‘Can I ask what it’s regarding?’
‘No,’ replied Milly, bristling with annoyance.
Cordelia appraised the woman standing before her before stepping back and inviting her in. ‘Please take a seat,’ she said, motioning towards one of the pristine armchairs, just as Anita entered the room.
‘Milly, hi,’ said Anita, surprised to see her.
‘Hi,’ she replied, her eyes flicking to Cordelia, indicating what she had to say wasn’t for her ears.
‘Let’s go for a walk,’ said Anita, ushering her back towards the door. ‘See you in a bit,’ she said sweetly to Cordelia, whose energy was furious for some unexplained reason.
They got out into the fresh air and Milly visibly relaxed. ‘What was up with her?’ she asked.
‘Absolutely no idea,’ said Anita, truthfully. ‘I’ve never seen her react like that to anyone; she’d normally have you sitting down eating cake and drinking tea before you knew what had happened.’
Milly laughed, ‘it must be something I did then!’
‘She’s been a bit off ever since she found out there were two dead bodies on her kitchen floor, so let’s just put it down to that.’ Milly didn’t reply. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound so flippant.’
‘No, it’s not that. It’s just so hard to believe it really happened, that’s all.’
‘I know.’
They walked in silence to the park at the end of the road where they sat on a bench, watching a couple of naughty children hiding from their exasperated mother. ‘How can I help?’ asked Anita, eventually interrupting Milly’s thoughts.
‘I spoke to Marcus,’ she said slowly.
‘And it didn’t go well?’ Anita ventured.
‘It didn’t go badly,’ she said, a little sensitively, ‘but he wasn’t ready to sign up to the cause when I left him. Amber’s started to sink her claws in; he said he’s continuing Austin’s work, which I know from first-hand experience isn’t what you’d call savoury. He’s confused; he thinks he has to honour Austin’s legacy, but knows deep down he doesn’t really like what Austin did. Amber’s playing on his uncertainty.’
‘So what do you think we should do?’
‘You speak to him. Make him see that Austin had come to kill you, and for Gods’ sake make him see there’s a different way.’
‘You know he probably won’t even talk to me.’
‘I think he will,’ she paused, turning to look at Anita, ‘and you won’t know until you try.’
‘I said I’ll try, I’m just not convinced it’ll work.’
‘One more thing,’ said Milly, hesitantly, ‘I wouldn’t go to the procession and dinner; Gwyn doesn’t want you there and she’ll use it as another opportunity to manipulate Marcus into thinking you’re throwing Austin’s death in his face.’
Anita stiffened, livid at the idea of not being able to do something because of Gwyn, but she knew she had to be pragmatic, so sulkily said, ‘fine. If you think that’s more likely to work, I’ll stay out of the public bits.’
Milly smiled as she got up to leave, ‘good luck,’ she said, ‘he’s stubborn, so you’re going to need it.’
*****
Anita and Cleo got ready for the ball as planned, with the help, or maybe hindrance, Anita wasn’t sure, of Fernandez and his three assistants. However, when Cleo departed, Anita stayed behind, retreating downstairs to a large drawing room where she picked up a magazine to help her kill the time it would take the others to eat dinner.
When it was finally time for her to leave, Fernandez miraculously appeared to touch up her makeup before escorting her down the remaining flight of stairs to the front door, Alexander’s driver waiting there for her. ‘Have a wonderful evening,’ said Fernandez, kindly, ‘you look spectacular.’
‘Thank you Fernandez,’ she said, slipping into the back of the car, her guts flipping as the driver sped off in the direction of the valley where the Chase had begun. She was blown away by what she saw when she got there, looking down from the hillside at a hub of twinkling lights and beautifully dressed people mingling to a backdrop of mellow jazz. Miraculously, the Councillors had managed to put an enormous, open marquee over the middle of the valley, including over the river that ran through its centre, the dance floor entirely see-through so as to show the river off. Around the outside were a number of seating areas, the trees above alive with fairy lights, providing a gentle glow over the soft seating below, well concealed heaters dotted around to keep away the cold. Winter flowers blossomed everywhere, in the joins of branches, all across and around the marquee, and lining the makeshift paths that had been constructed for the evening.
By the time Anita had descended the side of the valley, passed the security guards who recognized her immediately, and reached the entrance, the first dance was in full swing. Marcus and Gwyn whirled across the floor; it had been deemed only right for them to open the dancing together seeing as they’d come first and second in the Chase. They danced demurely, all eyes fixed on their envious forms, until the tempo of the music changed, indicating the first communal dance was about to commence. Anita watched as Marcus slipped away from the growing crowd, exiting at the side of the marquee. Gwyn, not ready to stop dancing, simply replaced him by stealing some other girl’s partner, the girl relegated to the side lines, nothing she could do but watch with furious eyes.
Realising she wouldn’t get a better chance, everyone else distracted by the opening dances, Anita skirted around the outside of the tent in search of Marcus. She found him sitting on a sofa underneath one of the decorated trees, his back to her, shoulders hunched despondently forward, looking as though he
were trying to shut out the world.
She paused a few paces back, neither wanting to interrupt him, nor knowing what to say, but he’d heard her footsteps crunching on the frosted ground and turned to see who was there. His face remained passive as he took her in but his energy leapt, casting aside any doubts she had about his feelings for her.
‘Hi,’ she said, breaking the still spell that had settled around them.
Marcus said nothing, getting to his feet with the clear intention of leaving. Anita stepped into his path and placed a hand on his chest, a movement that stopped him dead. ‘Please,’ she said quietly, ‘I just want to talk to you.’
He looked down and closed his eyes, his energy escalating as her fingers lingered, moments flitting by. He finally raised his head, Anita shocked to find herself looking into the eyes of a lost, exhausted man, no trace of the arrogant stranger who’d pursued her only a few weeks before. Without thinking, she dropped her hand and pulled him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in her neck, forgetting for a blissful instant everything that had happened, but soon enough it flooded back and he pulled away, moving back to the sofa and sitting down.
‘What do you want Anita?’ he asked, vacantly.
‘I want to talk to you about what happened. I want you to know what happened.’
‘Why? You can’t change it now.’
‘But I can put a stop to the conflict inside your head. You need to know.’
‘Dad tried to kill you and you defended yourself,’ he replied evenly, ‘and Bas must have got caught in the crossfire.’ Anita’s eyes went wide. ‘Any conflict I have isn’t to do with what happened that night.’
‘So what is it to do with?’ she asked.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ he replied, guardedly.
‘Not to me,’ she paused, ‘but I suppose perhaps you don’t know whether to follow in Austin’s footsteps, evicting helpless people from their farms and businesses, or to choose a new path of your own?’
‘And what would that entail?’
‘Only you can say.’
‘But like my mother, the real reason you’re here is because you think you know where I should start.’
‘I’m not here to convince you to help the Institution, although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think it’s the only option we have, and as a Descendant, stabilising the energy should be top of your list of priorities.’
‘Easy for you to say.’
‘Not really.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Do you know the reason Austin was trying to kill me?’
‘He got wind of Bas’ plan but thought you were really the one behind it, so decided to come after you.’
Anita was again taken aback, ‘what? He knew about the plan?’
‘Yes.’
‘But why did he think it was my idea? It had nothing to do with me.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ he stood up, turning away and dragging his hand through his hair. ‘Seeing as that was news to you, why did you think he came after you?’
Anita paused, not so sure what she was about to do was a good idea, but as usual, ploughed ahead anyway. ‘Because I’m the real Body Descendant, not Gwyn.’
Marcus laughed, almost cruelly, ‘that’s impossible.’
Anita raised an offended eyebrow. ‘No, it’s not. It’s a long story, but Peter isn’t the real Body Descendant either, my mother, Clarissa, was. Christiana swapped her with Peter at birth because the Descendants wanted to put an end to the prophecy.’
‘Why?’
‘For personal gain. If there’s no risk of anyone fulfilling the prophecy, the Descendants rule forever.’
‘So why not just come out and tell everyone?’
‘Because that would lead to further instability. We need to stabilize the energy, not provide another reason for it to plummet, and anyway, people might not believe it and we don’t have the luxury of time. We’ve got to do something now, before the army of rebels in the Wild Lands does.’
‘Now you’re stooping to the same scare tactics as Amber,’ he said, defensively.
‘She’s right, I saw them myself. I just got back from the Wild Lands where they’re everywhere, and they’re hungry for action, even their leaders are struggling to control them.’
‘In which case we should meet force with force.’
‘Was that you speaking, or somebody else?’ Marcus turned away. ‘Marcus, we need to give people something to believe in, not beat them down with force. If we can bring the energy back up the rebels will lose support, if we fight them, we can never go back to how things were.’
‘What makes you think we can anyway?’
‘Trying for peace is better than starting a war.’
‘And what if it’s already too late?’
‘Start praying to the Gods,’ she said, harshly, willing him to snap out of it. Anita got up to leave, she could read from his energy he’d been pushed as far as he was willing to go. ‘At least think about it,’ she said, heading back towards the tent. Marcus exhaled, slumped back on the sofa and held his head in his hands.
‘What did she want?’ hissed a hostile voice seconds later, making Marcus jump, Amber positioning herself right in front of him, giving him nowhere to look but at her.
‘What do you think?’
‘I don’t know; spell it out for me.’
‘She wants me to help the Institution with their plan to send the relic back.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘What did you say?’
‘What do you think I said?’
‘Don’t play games with me.’
‘Or what?’
‘Your father would be turning in his grave.’
Marcus jumped to his feet, towering over her, grabbing her neck with one hand, pushing her back against the tree. ‘Don’t ever speak to me like that again and do not presume to lecture me about what my father would have wanted.’
Amber raised a slow, seductive eyebrow, ‘finally,’ she said provocatively, ‘some fight. I knew it was in there somewhere,’ she said, carefully pulling his hand from her neck and reaching up to play with his bow tie. He pushed himself away and turned to leave.
‘You’re fired,’ he said over his shoulder, ‘you can collect your things tonight before I get home, anything left after that will be thrown away.’
Amber watched him go, smiling after him. Oh you silly boy, she thought, maliciously.
*****
Anita entered the tent as an upbeat number was drawing to a close, a slower melody starting to fill the air around her. Alexander felt her presence before he saw her, turning his head away from the Councillor he was talking to and rising to his feet when his eyes met hers. He was on a raised platform at the far end of the marquee, on which the Descendants had been seated for dinner so everyone could get a good look at them. He moved to the steps, seeming to float down them, a path clearing for him as he reached the dance floor at their base.
He melted through the crowd, people opening before and closing behind him, not a single dancing form knocking into him, his energy forming a protective, repellent shield. He reached where Anita stood at the edge of the floor, the crowd carefully delivering him to her before clearing a respectful gap around them. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, not saying a thing, her energy jumping involuntarily at their proximity, his dinner jacket enhancing his already divine form. He led her silently to the dance floor, pulled her into a firm hold, and started confidently circling the floor, careful to trace the river’s course, its wild energy floating up to meet them, pushing their spirits higher.
‘You look beautiful,’ Alexander purred, spinning her under his arm.
‘Such a cliché,’ she replied flirtatiously, looking encouragingly up into his electric blue eyes.
‘You’re impossible,’ he smiled, kissing her passionately on the lips.
‘Everyone’s looking at us,’ she whispered, pulling a
way to a sea of gossiping faces. She buried her now red face in his shoulder to block them out.
‘Cleo isn’t,’ he replied, in a tone that would rival even Cleo’s best rumormongering one. Anita’s head snapped round, her eyes seeking what Alexander’s had seen, and quickly located her friend, clad in racy, low cut, high slitted, black dress, looking intently into the eyes of a man Anita didn’t know.
‘Indeed she isn’t. Let’s get closer,’ she thrilled, conspiratorially, revelling in the moment.
‘No,’ he said, firmly, ‘leave her alone.’
Anita shook her head, ‘you’re no fun,’ she said, feigning frustration, giving him a peck on the lips before putting her head back on his shoulder, the faces around her totally forgotten.
*****
Cleo had been dancing with some Councillor or other; he wasn’t very good looking and she couldn’t remember his name, but she’d felt obliged to say yes when he’d asked her to dance. He’d stepped on her toes and his hands had been limp and scared against her skin, so she’d led for the most part, willing the band to bring the song to an end so she could make her escape. Eventually the band obliged and Cleo sighed with relief as she pulled back, searching for words that would enable her to get away. However, before she needed them, another figure appeared, tapped on her partner’s shoulder, ‘you wouldn’t mind if I cut in?’ he asked.
Before waiting for an answer, her saviour swept her into a tight hold and spun her away, the band playing something much slower, Cleo taking full advantage of the change in tempo and pressing herself against him whenever possible.
‘Ah the disappearing man,’ she said, her tone distant, but her body inviting, ‘I almost thought I’d imagined you.’ The man opposite, wavy hair as unkempt as it had been when they’d first met, smiled.
‘How can I ever make it up to you?’ he teased, running his hand deliciously down her back to the base of her spine, Cleo arching towards him in response.
‘You make your dinner jacket look scruffy you know.’
