“We should get him to safety,” Kal suggested, kneeling beside the wild man. “Vadim—find your senses, your people need you!”
Kazuaki stared down at Vadim, an ever-present scowl on his face. He lifted his eye to steal a glimpse of Rennington’s dejection. The soldier’s heart died in the fire with those people. At first, he surmised this Rennington was far different than the one he remembered. The one who slaughtered footmen who stood in the way of his orders with ease. But when Kazuaki called forth all instances of the Platts brother’s morality, he decided, no, he was the same. Rennington mourned the loss of these people much in the same way he lamented the children Darjal once ordered him and his brother to put down. He frowned. “We’ll scan once for survivors,” he muttered. “Be quick. Ten minutes and not a second more. Then we’ll deal with Vadim.”
Rennington turned a wide-eyed stare to the captain, his disbelief exposed. “Right,” he nodded, feeling invigorated even against the smoke that choked his lungs, “ten minutes.”
He turned, but his feet did not venture far. Rennington staggered back, recoiling from the sudden presence of the body that appeared before him. His eyes narrowed as he coughed into his sleeve, sweeping his other arm out instinctively to protect those behind him. “What in the feck are you?” he breathed, hostile.
The majestic woman before him smiled. “I am everything mankind made me to be,” Havidite replied, her voice silk against the rage of the surrounding turmoil. Her full, ruby lips slid into a smirk. “I am the harvest. I am the nutrients in the earth. I am the food in your stomachs and the coins in your pockets,” she purred, her wings folding behind her. “I am Havidite.”
“Everything but humble, it seems,” Bermuda hissed, withdrawing her weapon on instinct, though she was certain she stared into the eyes of an untouchable goddess.
“It took longer than I thought it would for you to find Vadim,” Havidite said, tilting her head as she stared down at the man. “I’ve been waiting days in Northwestern to see what mankind’s answer to our retaliation would be.” Her bottom lip stuck out, mocking them. “I see without the gods’ help, it is as pathetic as I expected. You must be the smallest collection of ambassadors I have ever seen.”
“Don’t know who fed you your information, lady,” Brack uttered, looking at the members of the crew, “but the only ambassador here is this guy.” He thumbed toward Kal.
A frown scuttled onto the goddess’ss face. “Are you not here to beg for our forgiveness? For the safety of your divisions?”
Kazuaki scowled. “I beg for nothing.”
Havidite assessed him, from the patch covering his eye down to his battered boots. “I had hoped to watch you plead for clemency. It is the least you could do after how you’ve treated us. For how you treated Panagea.” She sighed. “No matter. I awaited your arrival for a purpose beyond begging. Return to whoever sent you. Tell them your mission to appease the gods has failed. Warn them of the consequences they will suffer for their actions. The consequences you see here,” she said, sweeping her arm out to showcase the destruction. “Leave no detail out. Paint this picture in their minds, down to the very last drop of blood you see on the ground. You will spread my message across all of Panagea,” she paused, leaning down to pluck an anemone flower from the earth. She extended the hand that held it, gently gracing the side of Kazuaki’s face, “won’t you, Mr. Hidataka?”
Many bristled at Havidite’s boldness, Bermuda and Kazuaki alike, but none more so than Mimir. He stepped out from behind Granite, glowering at the Goddess of Harvest. “Withdraw your efforts, Havidite,” he hissed. “He belongs to me.”
“Premature ranting,” Kazuaki spat, swatting Havidite’s hand away from his face. “Try all you wish, demon. I’ve hardened myself to the tricks of your kind.”
A frown creased Havidite’s otherwise perfect face. “A pity.” She ripped her attention away from Kazuaki and cast wrathful eyes down to Mimir. “Bite your tongue, you little imp, or I will bite it for you.”
Brack couldn’t stop a grin from dominating his face. “That’s my kinda woman.”
“Oh, really?” Havidite’s scrutiny toward Mimir fell aside as she laid licentious eyes on the Rabbit. “I have a feeling I could be all the woman you needed,” she purred, stepping toward him to caress a hungry hand over his chest. “Your own personal goddess ...”
“Rabbit,” Kazuaki glared at Brack with a cautionary tone. “Don’t. You don’t know where it’s been.”
A full, bottom lip inched out as Havidite pouted. “Does he always talk to you like that?” she asked, sliding her fingers up and around Brack’s neck as she pushed the others away, pressing her body against his. “Most improper. I think you need a new leader, love. Someone who would treat you right.”
Brack arched a brow. He met her eyes, the hair on his arms standing on end at the silken pressure of her touch. “What if I wanted you to treat me wrong?”
Havidite smirked. She leaned in to whisper into his ear. “In all the right ways ...”
“I ain’t gonna lie, darlin’,” Brack grinned as the warmth of her breath slithered into his skin. “That does sound lovely.”
Kal’s eyes widened. Jernal appeared to adopt a new alarm as well. The soldier reached for his falchion, prepared, should Havidite turn Brack against them after she invaded his thoughts.
“Doesn’t it?” the goddess said slowly, seduction pouring from her like an untamed river. “Abandon yourself to me, and I will introduce you to all you desire.”
Jernal positioned himself defensively.
Kal took a step away.
Havidite seemed pleased with herself, matched only by the look of sly pleasure plastered on Brack’s face as the goddess slipped his oxygen mask off with her hands.
“Rabbit,” Kazuaki said again, more forceful the second time. He did not seem concerned. On the contrary, he looked infected with incurable irritation. “Stifle yourself.”
“Shh,” Havidite placed a finger on Brack’s lips, his mask dangling in her other hand. “Pay no mind to him ... you only have eyes for me, now.”
Brack didn’t move as she settled her soft skin onto his mouth. But it didn’t last long. He pinched his lips together, trying to contain the obvious laughter he held inside his stomach. In moments, the corners of his mouth curved upward, his eyes alight with mischievous devilry as he finally released his long-held amusement. “Gods-damn, lady!” Brack laughed, hysterical as he wiped a tear from his eye. He doubled over, placing his palm on his knee to steady himself from the flood of his pent up delight. “You’d have fecked me right here and now, in front of all these people! You’re a naughty goddess, aren’t you? Oh, I’d pray to you all right—hell, I’ll be chanting your name later tonight at the very least, I’m sure of it!”
Havidite’s face twisted into one of initial confusion, followed by disgust. She realized quickly that Brack had taken her for a ride; her expression reflected her poisonous irritation. “You’ll have wished later you did fall into my favor,” she said, voice calm, though her loathing remained present. “You all will. But right now, I have too much of a need for you. Go forth, and spread the word of what you witnessed here today. Tell the Time Fathers. Tell everyone.”
The crew stood, braced but silent. Kazuaki made no moves. Though every part of him shouted to reach for his sword, to plunge bullets into her chest, to take some form of action that involved spilling the blood of his enemy ... he knew his efforts would be in vain. It was an uncomfortable feeling. “We will leave when Vadim is lucid,” he muttered instead. The captain felt a disdain that his eventual movements mirrored what Havidite seemed to want. Why she wanted trusted division voices to spread the word of the lesser gods’ destruction, he did not yet know.
Havidite lifted a single shoulder, tucking her chin into it as a feigned coyness washed through her. “Oh, Captain, try all you wish. Waste your efforts. Men are predictable. Incapable of change. Even if you manage to attach your leeches and draw out his infection, the thoughts he has still weave i
nto his chemical makeup. You can spend hours returning him to his former state, but know it would only take a moment for me to manipulate him again.”
“What’s your end game?” Bermuda approached, unafraid, knowing full well Havidite could inflict no physical harm. “Your revenge against men is purposeless. How far do you plan to take this?”
Havidite inclined her chin. Her wings stretched behind her, making her appear larger, bolder. “We will take this as far as you took it with us. As far as you took it with Panagea. She is but a husk now, as you, too, shall become. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.”
“I once heard from a reliable source,” Kazuaki started, glaring down at Mimir, “that an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.” He flicked his attention back to Havidite, apathetic. “Having been born of men’s imagination, I am not surprised that your end goal is riddled with flaws that you are sightless to.”
Havidite’s breasts rose and fell as she let out a dramatic sigh. “Your words fall on omnipotent ears, Captain. Men may have created us, but they were too foolish to know, at the time, the power of their minds. They created something far more than themselves.”
“No.” Calm, Kazuaki stared at the goddess. “Men created exactly what you would expect them to. Inflated, overestimated versions of themselves. You were birthed from imperfect minds. Man’s deficiencies weave through you. That you cannot see it for yourself only proves my point.”
The goddess huffed. She lifted her hands, smoothing her perfect hair through her fingers. “You’re right about one thing, Captain. We were birthed from imperfect minds. But we are far greater than you can even conceive.”
“Are you, now?” Kazuaki’s low voice rumbled against the still-crackling fires before them. “What will happen, then, when you have consumed the minds of all those who believe in you? When you trick them into throwing themselves on the pyre, or the stake, or the sword when they have run their course of usefulness? What of it, when you have swept through the divisions and killed all of Panagea’s people?” He narrowed his eye. “Who will pray to you then?”
Havidite looked unaffected. She only smirked. “You lot may harbor enough conviction to keep yourselves from kneeling, but soon, you will see ... we won’t need the weak to pray to us. When you’re all that’s left, you will beg for our favor, as you did countless years ago.” Her wings rose above her, the feathers splayed. “We will correct the barren wasteland that you have made of Panagea. Prepare for war, Captain.”
A burning wind tossed Kazuaki’s hair behind him. When it finished, his unkempt, raven strands fell back around his jaw. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered.
His detachment earned him a vehement glare. Havidite threw her shoulders back and spun. Her wings stretched and whipped with the movement of her body, and in a single, fluid sweep, she was gone.
The mask she had held in her hands clattered to the earth. Her absence was felt, as the goddess commanded much presence. Brack looked down at Vadim and pressed the tip of his boot into the division leader’s ribs to see if it gained a reaction. Vadim only stared, blank eyes shimmering with the golden glow of the flames. The Rabbit lifted his gaze to Kazuaki. “What do we do now, Cap?”
There was much to consider. They couldn’t leave Vadim to his madness. He was too vital to the Northwestern division. But they needed to tell the other divisions to send whatever aid they could spare to the cities that continued to burn.
They also needed to warn Nicholai. Though Havidite did not shed much light on her plan of attack, Vadim’s corruption remained a clear indication they were after the division leaders. If they couldn’t claim the minds of all Panagea’s people, Kazuaki was certain they’d try their damndest to make puppets of those who controlled them on a governmental level. One way or another, they would rain ruin down upon mankind.
“They know they cannot destroy everyone who prays to them, or they will fall once more from an absence of worship,” Kazuaki announced. “In any case, we’ll be of no help here. Plucking thousands of bodies from burning buildings is a job for a horde of footmen. We need to put our focus on Vadim.”
Granite reached down, seizing Vadim beneath his armpits, and tossed him over his shoulder. “Where do you want him?”
Revi watched the Time Father flop over, open eyes motionless to match the rest of his body. “We should go back,” he said, not attempting to disguise his desire to return to Southeastern. “It’s only a matter of time before they finish with Northwestern and invade other divisions. We need to be there if Nico—”
“Nico will have to take care of himself for now,” Kazuaki interrupted. Though he knew the Southeastern Time Father was vulnerable with Darjal biting at his mental wherewithal, they had no choice. He needed to trust Nicholai’s ability to preserve his sanity. “We need to drive sense back into Vadim before we can leave Northwestern.”
“We’re stuck here until he’s lucid?” Revi growled, thumbing toward Vadim. That was a death sentence. The man was crippled with madness.
“Your daughter waited ten years, Revi.” Kazuaki found the man’s eyes, challenging him with his own. “She can wait a little longer.”
Tensed muscles betrayed Revi’s dissatisfaction with Kazuaki’s answer, but his respect for the captain kept his temper in check. “How do we cure him?” he murmured.
“I’ve scoured autobiographies and memoirs of Vadim Canmore,” Kal offered. “I’ve studied his practices, his ruling tendencies. I might be able to pry him back into sanity by utilizing some psychological tactics.”
“Jeeze,” Brack laughed, patting Kal on the shoulder. “You and Bart really are feckin’ soul mates. Cut from the same scholarly cloth, you two are.”
“Fine.” Kazuaki turned to Granite. “Take Vadim to the airship. Let Kal have a go at him. Hand your masks to Rennington—” He looked to the Southern soldier, knowing full well he wouldn’t find rest until he lived up to his duty. “He and Jernal are going to scour the town for survivors. Revi, Penn, Bermuda, Brack ... scout ahead. Commandeer a vehicle, if you can find one that hasn’t burned. Try to warn the next town over. Maybe they can stay ahead of the fire. If we have any success with Vadim, we’ll pick you up on the way.”
Jernal tensed, stepping back as he caught the oxygen mask Kal tossed to him. He stared down at it for a moment before he lifted a disdainful look to Kazuaki. “I don’t take orders from criminals.”
“You’ll take orders or you’ll take bullets,” Kazuaki stated simply. “Which do you prefer?”
Mimir grabbed Jernal’s arm and tugged him toward Rennington. “Come now, Commander. I don’t want the Captain killing my second-best. Let’s go look for body parts. It will be like we’re right back at the well.”
The commander deflated but knew when to back down to spare his existence. Kazuaki almost took his life once before; he doubted he’d have any qualms claiming it now. “Fine,” he muttered, teeth clenched. As soon as the Southern soldier secured the mask he had acquired from Granite over his head, begrudgingly, he followed after Rennington.
It was difficult to spy movement from writhing bodies when the majority of the motion around them came from whipping flames. Rennington’s eyes narrowed to slits as he tried to combat the effort of peering through the thick smoke. The sight around him was a discouraging one. He found plenty of bodies, but none held even a small fraction of life.
Jernal reached down to lift a large, flat piece of debris. He cursed upon discovering it was made of metal and clung to most of its heat. The commander flung his hand and wrist several times as if it somehow soothed the burn.
Mimir seemed at home amongst the chaos. The shadowed lesser god launched himself onto a fallen beam, high above the ground. His skills were inhuman. Despite the residual heat still emanating from the steel pole, he perched his bare feet upon it, looming over Rennington and Jernal like a hungry vulture.
His head tilted, farther and farther, until he eyed Rennington in a nearly upside-down state. “I must admit my surprise,
Mr. Platts, that the captain would let you look for survivors,” he said, knowing full well that no lives remained in the land of fire.
An initial hesitation climbed through Rennington’s body, starting at his boots and stopping short of his throat. He did not enjoy Mimir’s presence. Though he wasn’t present at the well the day the lesser god took Bermuda’s hand and Kazuaki’s eye, his hatred existed as though he had been. “Yeah,” he finally muttered through his mask, feeling it was best to appease the creature and end the conversation, rather than risk ignoring Mimir and inviting additional incessant chatter. “Me too.”
“He doesn’t seem like the caring type,” Mimir added, destroying Rennington’s hopes that that was the end of their discussion.
The soldier tore his attention away from the smoldering chunks he sifted through. He looked up in just enough time to spy Kazuaki, Kal, and Granite returning to the airship with Vadim. Bermuda, Revi, Penn, and Brack bore through the wilder flames, forcing their way into the next town over with as much speed as they could muster. “The captain is guided by a very ... unique moral compass,” Rennington said to Mimir, before returning his attention to the task at hand.
Jernal’s ears perked at Rennington’s statement. As he busied himself searching for any signs of life, he couldn’t help but analyze the Southern soldier’s testimonial. Despite his best efforts, he found truth in it. Jernal did not know what to make of Kazuaki Hidataka. He hated him. He was a criminal. And yet, here they were, trying to assist those who fell into Northwestern’s hell pit. He became more perplexed by the captain with each passing hour.
“I see ...” Mimir lifted his scrutiny from Rennington as he peered into the orange horizon. “How very ... unexpected. Some might even say his true north points to a kindness of sorts.”
Even in the macabre situation that Rennington found himself in, he laughed. “Never thought I’d hear Kazuaki and kindness in the same sentence,” he said, pushing aside the remnants of an incinerated vat.
“Yes, well ... whether god or human, life still shines pearls of wisdom on us with each rise and fall of the sun.” A slow smirk came to Mimir’s face. His misshapen teeth looked as though they had no business on his face. “It’s up to us to utilize that knowledge when it comes.”
The Panagea Tales Box Set Page 67