Fractured

by T. C. Edge

  He looks again towards the direction of the sentry post, still in flames in the distance. "We should begin there," he says. "We might be able to get some information from those workers. And perhaps you'd be able to pick up Brie's scent."

  "Already working on it," I say, trying to zero in on what I recall Brie's unique scent and signature to be. It's not easy, with so many people having passed through here, and the growing stench of rot and death in the air, but if I get close enough to where she's been, I might be able to track her.

  "Good. Then we go. Follow me."

  We move quickly, Ares's formidable speed quite able to outmatch my own. I ponder, as I have several times before, what it must have been like to step into the arena with him as your opponent. What I faced during the games was bad enough, fighting against the likes of Shadow and Jaeger. If I'd have fought Ares, I wouldn't have stood a chance.

  Like lighting from the heavens, we flash right towards the flaming dugout, scanning for the presence of any enemy soldiers as we go. We find only frightened workers as we arrive in a blitz, the shielded perimeter of the enemy base several hundred metres away down the slope of the hill. The terrified men stagger backwards as we materialise before them, cowering in fear and holding their arms up in submission and deference.

  "We mean you no harm," Ares tells them, looming tall. His eyes glance left and right to double check no soldiers are nearby. "We seek information on one of our own. A girl, medium height and slender build. Brunette hair, hazel eyes. Do you know if she has been taken? Speak quickly."

  I realise quite quickly that no affirmative answer is going to be forthcoming, the slaves fumbling for words as they shiver in the mud. As Ares continues his hasty interrogation, suggesting a threat of violence that I know, in practice, he won't bring, I turn again to my own search, seeking Brie's scent, scanning for marks in the mud that might fit her boots.

  I get a sense of something, some trigger in my mind. It's weak, mingled in with the thousand other smells that compete for space in the air, though clear enough to tell me that Brie was here not so long ago. Hours, perhaps, during the final stages of the battle. This must have been the sentry post that Colonel Hatcher spoke of.

  I zero in on the scent, ignoring all others, as I begin to trace it's path. I realise, with a sense of deflation and dread, that it leads down the slope in the direction of the enemy camp. I follow only so far before I hear Ares hissing behind me.

  "Stay back, Lady Kira," he says firmly. "They may not have scouts here, but they're sure to be watching from the camp itself."

  I stop, though don't yet turn back. Something holds me there a moment, something humming in the back of my head. It feels familiar, and yet alien at the same time. A sense of intrusion within my mind. As though something, someone, is trying to break in.

  My eyes open wider, my breathing caught.

  Brie. Is that...you? I think.

  I get no answer, though the strange sensation continues to gnaw it me. I squint, shake my head, as if some sort of physical action will abort it. It doesn't work. Something beyond my control, beyond my understanding, is happening in the depths of my consciousness, in a realm in which I can't seem to enter or interfere.

  "Kira!" comes Ares's voice again. I hear him rushing towards me, a burst of wind accompanying the sudden movement. He appears at my side in an instant. "We mustn't get too close."

  "She's in there," I whisper, looking ahead at the camp. "I know it now."

  "Then we have no recourse but to turn back for now," Ares says. "The entire enemy army is behind that shielded wall."

  I nod, knowing it would be foolish to try to get through. Knowing that we'd never find a way in. And yet still, I move forward, intrigued by the odd sensation in my mind. It draws me in, closer to the camp. And as I do, the signal gets stronger.

  "Kira, I must insist," Ares says, moving alongside me. "I will not let you do something foolish."

  "Just...wait," I whisper. "Give me a second. Just a second more..."

  The camp grows nearer. I stare forward, and behind the buzzing, fizzing shield of blue energy, I sense movement. I hear calls. I know that the enemy has spotted us. That they are stirring once more.

  But still, I'm drawn forward.

  A little more.

  Just a bit nearer.

  The words echo in the distant parts of my mind, drawing me forward. They aren't commands, not orders that I feel compelled to follow. No, this is something different. The voice...it's Brie's. She needs me closer. She's trying to do something I don't yet understand.

  That's it. It's...it's working, I hear her whisper.

  I smile at the voice, though I don't truly understand it. The encampment lies only a hundred metres away now, bodies gathering beyond the shield. I can sense Ares's body beginning to hum with the expectation of a fight. He lays a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my path.

  "That's enough," he says firmly. "Whatever you're doing, it needs to stop."

  This time, I do stop. In the quiet spaces of my head, I feel Brie's presence grow stronger. I feel something else. See something else. I shut my eyes and there, in the back of my head, in a strange, ethereal space, see Zander smiling at me. My old friend of the Nameless. Brie's twin brother. The young man who exists now only within her mind.

  Yet, somehow, I can sense him too.

  It's working, brother, I hear Brie say.

  Zander smiles within my mind, staring right at me. His presence is blurred but just clear enough, the edges fuzzy, yet his eyes like crystal. Yes, I hear him say. See him say. It's working...

  I feel my shoulder shaken, and I suddenly draw back out of my mind, blinking as the world comes back into view. I look up to see Ares staring forward, eyes narrow, body tense. My eyes follow his and there, at the edge of the enemy encampment, I see the shield beginning to fade away across a single section, opening up a gate.

  "I think, Lady Kira, that is it time for us to go."

  Through the gate, I see a squat, ugly man step, his neck cut into a deep scar, his head bald, his body wrapped in tight black armour. To his flanks, are two others, their heads also shaven, their bodies covered up in a similar garb. They step, as a trio, out through the gate, staring across the sloping hill towards us. Behind them, a gathering of soldiers appears, though hold back, awaiting the order to attack.

  "You know these three?" I ask Ares, ready to dash off as soon as he gives the command.

  "Yes," he says, staring right at them. "The man in the middle is Kovas, Herald of War. He is their leader now."

  "And the others?"

  "Their two remaining Heralds," Ares says. "They are their most formidable warriors."

  He says the words with a simmering interest and desire, as though wishing to test himself against them.

  "I guess that's our cue then," I whisper. "What about Captain Marcus?"

  "There's little we can do about that now," Ares says. "Whether a captive or dead, we have no power over his fate."

  "Brie's in there," I say again, staring at the open gate. "I...I can sense her somehow."

  Ares turns half an eye down to me curiously. "You were acting strange," he says, nodding. "This is Brie's doing?"

  I nod, though don't elaborate. Really, I wouldn't know how to right now. I can't quite explain what's happening, but there in the depths of my mind, I can feel something changing. Something being forged.

  "Are you here to fight, Ares?" comes a growling, gruff voice on the wind. I turn my eyes right up to look upon the stocky, grim form of Herald Kovas, calling from outside his camp. "Or are you just going to stand there talking outside my camp all day?"

  My pulse climbs a little, my eyes darting left and right across our flanks. Drawing us into a conversation like this might be a way to distract us while unseen soldiers close in.

  "We have come," Ares calls out, and masking our true purpose, "to ask that we be able to collect our dead without fear of being attacked. It is common practice to do so in war where I come from, Heral
d Kovas. The proper rights should be respected here too."

  Even from here, I can almost feel Kovas seething. From what I've been told, he was outthought and outwitted by our own leaders, largely due to the information mined by Brie from the head of their previous commander, Herald Perses. A man, as far as I know, whom they think is dead.

  As I stare, I see a colourfully dressed man appear through the gate. Tall and slim, and draped in fantastical robes that looks so out of place among the earthy tones around him, he glides up to Kovas's side, and seems to whisper something in his ear. The disgruntled Herald appears to calm at the mans words somewhat. He looks back towards us and nods.

  "It shall be allowed, Ares," he calls out. "Collect your dead. We will not attack. You have my word."

  Ares bows his head. "Thank you, Herald Kovas," he says. "I assume you are aware we have taken several of your warriors captive. You may also have some of ours. Perhaps we could arrange an exchange?"

  I dart my eyes up at him, and he gives me a calming nod.

  "You are referring to our Fire-Bloods," grunts Kovas.

  Ares nods. He makes no mention of Herald Perses. "And you have one of importance to us as well," he calls. "You know who I am speaking of."

  "The young telepath, yes," Kovas says, showing us an ugly, awkward grin. "And we still have Director Cromwell in our possession as well. Though I'm not so sure you care about him." He turns his eyes to the two Heralds at his flanks, considering things. "I might be willing to part with the telepath in exchange for..."

  Once more, the flamboyantly dressed man steps forward. And once more, Kovas turns to him, listens, and then turns back.

  "There shall be no exchange," he says, his voice flat and direct. There's an air of finality about it. "Go back to your city immediately. Leave, now, before I decide to string all of your dead up, and use them for target practice!" His words burgeon with a renewed anger. Behind him, the colourful old man slips back into the shadows, a small smile lingering on his face.

  "I shall let you consider the terms," Ares calls out calmly, taking a stride backwards. "I do not have full authority to treat with you. I shall speak with the President. But...tell me one final thing. Do you have a young captain of Neorome in your possession..."

  "Leave!" Kovas roars out. "Run off to your master! One more word and I will go through with my threats!"

  Ares is not a man to be bowed by such anger, by unrestrained and unsettled words. He stands for a long moment, staring at Kovas, before eventually turning and stepping away.

  I go with him, moving by his side, both of us careful to watch our flanks as we begin to depart.

  "That man is no leader," Ares whispers harshly to me as we go. "He does not have the capacity for it."

  I nod my head, agreeing.

  No, it seems to me that someone else is in charge within that camp now.

  The Overseer, whispers a voice in the depths of my mind. He is the colourful man you saw.

  I frown, stopping, and turn back. Brie...

  Go, Kira. Do not worry about me...

  No, I say in my head, staring back at the camp. I can't...

  You can, says another voice. Zander's, as though right there beside his sister. You must. Go, Kira. Now is not the time...

  And with that, I feel both of their presence fading from my head, as they step back away into the darkness I cannot access.

  4

  Brie

  It worked, I say, a hopeful grin lifting on my lips. I think it might have worked.

  We'll have to wait and see, comes by brother's response, standing ahead of me within the strange, ethereal realm where we visit with one another sometimes. I could see her, he continues, and I'm sure she could see me. But it's new territory, Brie. This isn't something we've done before.

  I nod to him, turning my gaze around the strange, whitewashed landscape. Usually, it would be clearer than this; the city, the mountains, the woods all appearing quite clear in the distance, if lacking detail. Now, all of that is blurred and indistinct, as is my brother. It's a result, I know, of the drugs they have me on, suppressing my powers.

  Lucky for me, the dosage I was given a couple of hours ago is just about wearing off...

  She won't stop at that, you know, Zander goes on, his spectral figure shaking its head. She'll come and try to get you out again, you know she will.

  And if she does, you'll help her, I say. They'll realise soon that they need to increase my dosage. My powers will be gone for good soon, brother. Do you...do you think you'll still be able to communicate with her when that happens?

  We'll have to wait and see, he says, a note of doubt in his voice. This is all new to me, Brie. But if your neural link to her holds, I should be able to travel along it.

  I nod again, taking a breath as I dread returning to the real world once more. Only moments ago, I sensed Kira approaching beyond the outer shields of the Olympian camp, and with Zander's help, managed to forge a neural pathway into her mind. How long it will last, how far it will stretch, and whether Zander will be able to travel along it once my powers are fully suppressed...well, all of that is anyone's guess right now.

  But it's something.

  Something...

  They're coming back, Brie, Zander says. I turn to look at him once more. His eyes and smile shine out clearer than the rest of him, features I never want to see fade. Open you eyes, sis. If I don't see you for a while, know that I'm here, OK. I'm always here...

  I feel a pulse of fear in my heart. When taken by Nestor, Zander's presence in me faded as my powers were fully suppressed. Our link and bond has grown since then, but who knows whether the same will happen or not.

  I'll be there with you, Brie, he goes on, knowing my mind, seeing my concerns. I helped you get free from Nestor's grip before. I'll do the same again if I can. I'm always there, even when you cannot see or hear me. I'm always fighting for you, sis. Always.

  He smiles more broadly, though I see a hint of something, a loneliness, a sadness, in his eyes. I've got that sense from him before, and though we haven't spoken of it, I've thought about it often. What exactly is this existence of his like? If he truly is still alive, in part, how lonely must such a life be?

  Now go, Brie, he finishes, stepping backwards, fading into the white shroud around him. Open your eyes. Step back into the world. No one's going to give up on you Brie. No one. I promise...

  His voice begins to fade as he steps away. I stand within that strange realm, watching him go, my chest clenching as he disappears into the mists. And then, standing alone, I open up my eyes.

  The world comes back into view around me, the intense stench of rot and decay filling my nose. It takes a moment for the interior of the prison carriage to materialise before my eyes in full, drab colour, the grim details reappearing bit by bit, the various aches and pains of my body re-engaging with me too.

  I feel a slow, dull throb begin to spread through my shoulders and wrists, my hands chained together and shackled above my head to a fixing on the wooden wall. My knees aren't much better, positioned as I am upon them in an uncomfortable stress position, my ribs also aching from when the soldiers violently bundled me in here a couple of hours ago.

  I sneer as I think of that recent memory, standing face to face with the Overseer as he confronted me in the camp. Oh, he played me like a fiddle, I'll give him that, subtly manipulating me into trying to free my grandfather, putting all the pieces into place so that he'd know just where and when to capture me during our escape.

  And now, here I am again, locked in the heart of the Olympian camp, a captive of the Children of the Prime once more. It's the third time I've been held captive within an enemy stronghold in fact, following Nestor's rather more comfortable imprisonment of me six or so months ago, and my very own grandfather's capture of me a good few moons before that, when my attempt to assassinate him failed.

  A lot has happened since then, of course, and he's not the man he was. Nor, in fact, did I know he was my grandfat
her back then. Still, it's with a sense of irony that he's here with me right now.

  Locked in a cell across from me, he lies slumped in the filthy corner, still unconscious after being knocked out when tossed back here after my failed attempt to get him out. I have, in the intervening period, wondered about the sense in what I tried to do.

  Yes, the Olympian army was engaged in their fight on the plains, but there was always a risk that we'd end up like this. Yet when I learned of my grandmother's intention, giving Colonel Hatcher the order to eliminate him, I just had to act. There was no time for thinking, no time to consider the pros and cons. It was a snap decision, and one I've got to stand by.

  And as I look at him now, feeble and old and sprawled across the dirty floor, I know I'd do it again.

  Every damn time.

  A sound at the end of the carriage rips me from my thoughts, and my eyes flood in the direction of the sound. They squint immediately as a golden sheet of light comes pouring in through the opening door, framing several silhouetted figures as they step inside.

  Two sets of boots stamp towards me, owned by a couple of heavyset soldiers. Behind them, a rather more graceful figure flows. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the flow of sunlight.

  When they do, they have to adjust again to the ridiculousness of the man's overly colourful robes.

  "Brie, Brie, Brie," swims the Overseer languid voice, "you are a popular one it would seem..."

  I blink a few more times, and perform a quick assessment of the state of my returning powers. They'd begun to flourish just enough to sense Kira, access her mind, and - with Zander's considerable help, of course - forge a neural link between us.

  If I can do that, I think, glancing at the soldiers, maybe I can get into their heads as well...

  "Hardly more than two hours you've been our guest here," the Overseer goes on, "and already you have people trying to come and fetch you. This friend of yours, Kira, looks to be a feisty one. And Ares..." he hums. "You do have some powerful friends, don't you."