Mercy Rising: The Prophecy

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Mercy Rising: The Prophecy Page 21

by DC Little


  He held her against the chill of the night, and when she finally dared to open her eyes, she saw the stars lit up the sky in their brilliance. His arms around her felt different from any other. A vastness as great as the mountain sky opened within her. The sound of his heart beating against hers thundered until the cadence became not just his, but theirs. Time stood still, and a quivering inside of her opened to the fear it would be their last night together.

  “My parents say the stars were not always this bright in the World Before.” Better to talk, no more thinking. “Back then, they had to fight to be seen.”

  Orion wrapped his arm around her tighter. He pointed to his namesake, still low in the sky. “We will always have the stars to hold us together.”

  She turned toward him, wondering where he had learned to be so poetic, and instantly realized her mistake. His lips were mere inches from hers, so close his warm breath bathed her face.

  “Even when they can’t be seen,” he said, the movement of his lips holding Mercy’s attention.

  She waded through the symphony in her mind, hearing their heartbeat over any other sound. Laying a hand over his heart, she said, “I have always felt connected to you by this.”

  He laid a hand over hers, his breath coming quickly, their hearts racing together until there was only one loud rush of sound, a rush that caused the entire world to fade except the feel of his breath on her lips and the look of starlit wonder in his twilight eyes.

  His lips drew closer and closer until the slightest brush of his skin touched hers. The world around them exploded in a fiery blast that only pulled them closer, like the gravity that held her to earth. Orion was the gravity that kept her from falling into pieces.

  When he pulled away, catching his breath, she instantly felt the loss. The world rushed back in a cacophony of night sounds, crickets chirping, water rushing, and the occasional owl calling out to its mate.

  Orion rested his forehead against hers. They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. The moment couldn’t be explained, anyway. It could only be felt, experienced, and, the Creator help her, she wanted to experience it again.

  >>>—ORION—<<<

  After Orion saw Mercy to her dwelling, his gut churned with what he had done. As tough and head-strong as his red-headed angel was, she had an innocence about her, an innocence that he felt like he had taken advantage of.

  Not that he hadn’t meant the kiss, or enjoyed it. A smile tugged on his still tingling lips, but he hadn’t asked for permission. It wasn’t like he had planned to do it. Man, he had wanted to for the longest time, but he knew...he dropped his head. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay.

  This day was coming whether or not he liked it. People relied on him. His sister depended on him. The girls needed him. This wasn’t about what he wanted. It was about his responsibilities.

  That was why his guts twisted and his heart felt burdened. He sighed as he walked back to his dad’s dwelling, though he really wanted to be alone. Standing outside the door, he almost turned away, but tonight might be the last night with him as well. The idea of never returning to Zion made him want to bawl like a baby, but he couldn’t be selfish.

  If the coalition men found this place, Meyers would destroy it. He scanned the peaceful community resting in the darkness as deep longing pulled at him. It would be beautiful in spring when the garden fully grew and everything was green. His eyes fell on the archery range, abandoned in the dark. He would even miss the jesting of the guys and the chance to prove himself to them.

  “You going to stand out there all night?” His father’s voice murmured from inside the dwelling.

  Orion breathed in the camp, then ducked into the shelter.

  His dad watched him with his one good eye. It narrowed after what seemed like forever, and he glanced away. “I saved some food for you.”

  “I’m not really hungry.”

  His dad grunted and handed him a bowl full of some sort of stew. “You need your energy.”

  Orion lowered to his furs and dutifully ate the food, not really tasting it. He would need the energy. His dad was right.

  “You have a lot on your mind,” his dad said, sitting across from him.

  Orion nodded, shoving more food into his mouth.

  “What do you think awaits you back in the coalition?”

  The question snapped Orion’s head toward his father. He tried to read the expression of the man he was getting to know, but his face was a mask.

  “Meyers will expect that I have completed my mission.” He watched him for reaction, but there was none. He had finally confessed to his dad that they had sent him to kill Chantry in revenge for his supposed death.

  His father’s jaw clenched, the muscle near his ear spasmed with the effort. “I’ve been in that situation, as you have heard. He is ruthless. These injuries,” he showed his eye, his arm, his whole being, “do not disappear. He will not stop until he has all the information he wants.”

  Orion swallowed, fear sitting as heavy as a boulder in his stomach. It didn’t matter what happened to him. If he didn’t go, the Old Man would retaliate on his sister. He would eventually find the other girls, and the coalition would find Zion...and Mercy. He had no choice.

  “You do not have to do this on your own, Orion.” His dad leaned forward. “I am with you now. Zion will stand behind you.”

  “And I can live with the knowledge I brought destruction to a place of peace? That my sister…” he stopped, the anger feeling as vile as vomit spewing forth as words.

  His dad hung his head, and Orion knew guilt tore through him. If anyone understood the predicament he was going through, it was his father. He had also been here...eighteen years ago. His way hadn’t left the people unscathed, and it had led to Orion and Lily living under the enemy’s roof.

  Was there a better way to go about this?

  “We will figure it out. Chantry…”

  “Chantry is one man, and an older man at that. These are peaceful people. Sure they train, but they don’t know actual war. They don’t know death!”

  Orion set down the rest of the stew and shoved the bowl away. His stomach threatened to lose what he had choked down.

  His dad clasped him on the shoulders, forcing Orion to look at him. “We do things as a team here. No solo missions. Please, give us the time to figure out a plan.”

  Orion’s breath came in quick gasps. Their plan wouldn’t work. At least it wouldn’t work to save his sister and gave a wide opportunity for someone to escape and let Meyers know about Zion. Both those scenarios Orion couldn’t live with, but he nodded his head. It hurt too much to argue.

  He knew his dad meant well, that he feared he had finally found his son only to lose him again. Not that Orion didn’t also have that fear, but the fear of having to live in a world of destruction and loss caused by him...he couldn’t live with himself.

  “How have you done it?” Orion choked out. “How have you lived these last eighteen years knowing that...that….”

  His father nodded his acknowledgment. “That my son was being raised in the coalition suffering who knows what kind of fate? That I destroyed the community? That I brought death and destruction to the people I had sworn to protect?” He let his head drop. “I lived, ate, and breathed grief daily, but I lived.” He met his eyes once again. “I lived to see my son once again.”

  “Why is everyone talking like you knew I was coming? There is no way to have known that!” Orion moved away from his father to pace within the confines of the dwelling. As much as he needed rest and time alone to plan, there were many things he needed to know.

  His father shifting his weight caused Orion to stop and look at him. “You know, don’t you? You know why.”

  “It is not my place to share.” His dad cleared his throat. “Let’s just say that the Creator gives his gifts to those he feels are worthy.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Orion shoved a hand through his hair, realizing it didn’t matter. He needed
to lie down, plan, and get a few hours’ rest before his journey. “I appreciate your...concern and advice. I am really glad we found each other. I’m going to get some rest now.”

  “Good idea, son. Tomorrow is a new day, and with fresh eyes, we will find a way out of this that will keep everyone safe.” He patted Orion’s back and returned to his own furs.

  Orion didn’t sleep though. He didn’t even toss and turn. He weighed every option, trying to figure out a way he didn’t have to leave Zion, his father, or Mercy. It all came down to needing to stop being so selfish. He had to go. There was no other way.

  When the moon sank out of sight of the smoke hole and the camp filled with the soft snores of its members, he quietly filled his pack with his belongings. As he came down to the pine needle ring Mercy had woven for him, his heart filled with an angry fire. It wasn’t fair, but that was life.

  He wouldn’t give up hope, for his time here had taught him at least that all things are possible. Maybe there was still a chance. He definitely would look for that opportunity to arise, but until then, he had to keep people safe. He had formulated a plan, a lousy one, but he hoped it would buy him enough time to figure out how to sneak Lily and the girls out of the city.

  He placed the ring aside before soundlessly shrugging into his jacket, moccasins, and pack. His father lay sleeping, his snores making him wish he was staying. His dad was alive. That was news he couldn’t wait to tell his sister. His mom, though, it might just kill her.

  He bent down to pick up the ring, and with one last glance at his father, his stomach twisting, he ducked out of the dwelling and toward Mercy’s. Doing this would tear him up, rip apart his insides, but he had to leave her something...something to let her know their moment last night meant something.

  He decided he wouldn’t look at her as he ducked into the dwelling, easing in so as not to disturb the sleeping siblings. He laid the ring down on the place where he used to sleep and backed up to the door, keeping his eyes downcast.

  Mercy moaned, a sweet, sleep-filled, innocent sound, drawing his eyes to her. He couldn’t fight the urge as he memorized every line of her face with her hair falling over one closed eye. The moment nearly drained him of his resolve. Sensing that if he didn’t leave that instant, he never would, he fled the dwelling, moving swiftly toward the entrance.

  Orion kept glancing at the sentry on duty as he slunk from one shadow to the next. He thought he was home free when he made it to the boulders. One step down.

  “I knew you were a traitor,” Darius spat, blocking the way.

  Orion dropped his head but kept his eyes on his opponent, for opponent the man was. In fact, the moment he found out Darius had pushed the boundaries with Mercy, he had wanted an excuse to pound the guy.

  “I don’t have time to explain the subtleties of why I have to leave, and the fact I am doing it to save everyone here.”

  “Whatever you want to tell yourself, stranger-boy. I say good riddance, but I can’t have you leaving...not alive anyway.”

  Orion sighed. “Have it your way.” He took a step back, tightening up the straps on his pack, and leaped. In the narrow passageway, he had full use of the rocks. He hit one boulder with his right foot, leaping up to straddle the passageway about head height to Darius.

  Shocked, Darius snapped his head up, right in time for Orion to land a heel on the bridge of his nose, knocking the man back down to block the exit. Orion didn’t stick around to see if he had actually knocked him out. The moon had disappeared and soon dawn would be upon them.

  He bounded from one rock to the other up the narrow passageway, squeezing through the narrow slits at the top where the boulders shut out the view of the entrance. Once exposed, he slunk his way to the base of the cliff, knowing that the sentry at the point couldn’t see him there.

  A heaviness sat upon him as Zion faded away into the distance. If he kept on walking, he should be able to find the coalition camp by that night. If he could find them. Even with the time he had spent exploring with Mercy, he knew his weakness lay in navigation.

  As the sun rose behind him, he at least knew he headed close to the right direction. Once out of sight of Zion, he climbed a hill, his memory torturing him of the hill Mercy and he climbed where he had held her hand. That was until they saw the fire. He found the fire again, the smoke billowing up in great puffs.

  As Mercy had taught him, he found marking points, a twin topped pine to the south, a dead tree to the right of it. He would find them. Without meaning to, he turned back once more, searching for evidence of the secret ravine. Would he ever be able to find his way back? Then again, it might be best if he could never inadvertently lead anyone to Zion.

  His shoulders drooped under a burden that felt too large as he plodded down the hill and toward his fate, wishing he had the ability to change it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  >>>—MERCY—<<<

  Mercy woke in that softness of sleep that comes before fully awakening, the space of time when warmth envelopes and bird song sounds like a symphony sung just for her. Memories folded in like water lapping on the shore of the calm section of the river, slowly wetting her consciousness until fully restored.

  First a wave of warmth on her lips, next the look in Orion’s eyes, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. No one had ever looked at her that way. The river of memories continued to flow until she became fully aware, her fingers touching her lips at the dawn of a new day.

  Eagerly, she rolled over in her furs to look across the fire to where Orion used to sleep. She fell back into her bedding, disappointment rolling through as she remembered he had been staying with Butler, his father. Their relationship had slowly healed, and finally, after eighteen years, Orion had a dad once again.

  Something caught her eye as she stared longingly in the place he used to lie, something small and easy to miss, laid perfectly in the space that used to be his. Her heart rushed in her ears as horror grasped her soul.

  “No…no….” she whispered as she fumbled out of her furs to the small object laying alone, alone and cold, the ring she had woven him from pine needles.

  He left.

  She knew it in the depth of her soul, and her heart broke in shattering pieces. She hadn’t expected the physical pain of it, as she struggled for breath from her aching chest.

  The dawn of the new day had given a false sense of hope.

  “Little Sis?” Tucker shot up out of his furs and rushed to her side. “What is it?”

  “He’s gone.” She looked up at her big brother, tears burning her eyes. “I begged him not to leave. He’s going to get himself killed.” She turned into the protective arms of her brother and cried, cried harder than she had in a very long time.

  Once she had calmed, Tucker led her back to her furs and started some tea. Her body slowly stopped shaking and an odd numbness filled her. She didn’t think. She just sat and breathed.

  “I am going after him.”

  Tucker handed her a cup of steaming tea, sitting next to her. “I don’t think he’s going to die.”

  Mercy blinked, trying to clear her mind enough to think again. “What do you mean you don’t think?”

  Tucker sighed. “All I know is that Orion being here marks the change, the...war, the time when you rise.”

  Mercy set her mug down, her body shaking again, this time from a rage that forcibly overtook her.

  “It’s time,” he said.

  “No, Tucker! No!” Mercy stormed at her brother. Her red hair flew in front of her face, and she swiped at it forcefully. “No more prophecies! This is my life. I get to decide.”

  Hot tears burned her eyes as she met her brother’s empathic gaze. She swung her head away. She didn't want to release the hold on the emotion creating chaos inside of her. Looking in her brother’s eyes, feeling his love and empathy, would be her demise.

  She stood, back ramrod straight, fists clenched, pulling down at her sides. Anger boiled inside as her mind spun stories of unfairness, wea
kness, and fear of failure.

  Why had this been put upon her shoulders?

  Too many times her mom had told her of Tucker’s foretelling before she even knew Mercy grew in her belly. Too many times she had been told the fate of everyone in Zion rested on her skinny shoulders.

  A gentle hand touched her shoulder. Love rushed through her. Tucker’s voice softened into the tone he used only with her. “It’s normal to be resistant, Little Sister. Strength will come from the Source.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she muttered.

  “You think I wanted this gift?” He didn’t sound angry, more exhausted and heavy.

  Mercy looked over at her brother, watching him closely, her own anger fading. She knew that prophecy was an unwanted gift, though it had saved them repeatedly. It had helped them find Zion. It had prepared them for this present moment. Reading his eyes, she knew this gift was a heavy burden and one he mostly carried alone.

  “I’m sorry, Bubba.” She hung her head, shame sickening her stomach. “I’m worried for him.”

  “I know.” Tucker lifted her chin, making her meet his eyes. “You can do this.”

  “But what do I do?” Mercy wrung her hands, tearing away from his gaze. She paced their dwelling, anxiety turning to panic.

  “Little Sis,” Tucker said, “quiet yourself. Your path is already known. You just have to listen.”

  Mercy closed her eyes. Could it be that simple? Would the answer really come to her if she simply listened for it? Taking in a deep breath, she willed an answer to come to her.

  It came in the sound of yelling erupting from camp. Her eyes flew open and met Tucker’s.

  “They must have found him missing,” Tucker said, tugging on his moccasins.

  Mercy dressed in her outerwear quickly, running out of the dwelling just before Tucker. Her dad hurried by her dwelling, his face set in a scowl.

  “You know about this?” He landed a hard stare on her as they continued to the crowd that gathered around an angry Darius.

 

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