by Matt King
“You misunderstand,” she said. “He wouldn’t be here, truly. I could arrange for you to see him one last time, though, in your mind, for as long as you want. You could talk to him.”
“It wouldn't be him though, would it?”
She raised both eyebrows as if to say it was the best she could do.
“Thank you, but no. It hasn't been long enough for me to forget him. I prefer to speak to him on my own terms.”
She accepted his answer with a half-smile. Her eyes flittered around the top of the hill, from the swaying of the grass, to the graves of his parents, and finally to the stars, which she looked at wistfully as though she missed being among them. Finally, she seemed to gather enough of herself to ask the question he knew was coming.
“Don't,” he said, heading her off. “You can save your breath. I said I was through and I meant it.”
“John, I—”
“I said don't. I know you want me to fight for you, but I can't do that. I don't have anything left to fight for.”
“What of survival?” she asked.
“What of it?”
The wind blew a strand of hair over her eyes. Eventually, she brushed it away. “Your father was a great man. He was wise and caring.”
Was. Bear's eyes dropped.
“And you are like him in many ways,” she continued. “You are compassionate, faithful, kind. But in one respect you are different. Despite your faith, you fear death, both for yourself and the ones you love.”
The words sparked anger that he moved quickly to bury. There was no reason to fight back against someone who could read everything he'd ever tried to keep hidden. “Doesn't everyone? Doesn't August?”
“Death is no stranger to him, but he never lets it affect his thinking, I'm afraid. At times, I wish it would. He's died on four separate occasions since I gave him his power.”
“I suppose someone like you doesn't have to worry about such things.”
She looked back to the barn as though someone might hear her. “Death was thought to be a relic of our ancestors, something we had moved beyond. Until Amara, we were eternal. Even so, I often wondered what existed on the other side of life, if anything. When mortals died on worlds that we claimed as our own, their energy became part of us. We absorbed them. There was no philosophical debate about the matter—again, until Amara. When she claimed to be the conduit of Pyra, she taught us that we were only borrowing these souls until we ferried them into the afterlife during our own demise. I am the youngest of the Circle and I had always held Amara above all others. She was influential, charismatic, and strong. I was drawn to that. I believed her when she said she spoke for Pyra. It gave me hope to know that there was something bigger than us, something that had a plan. It wasn't until Amara began carrying out that plan that I saw the true impact of what she preached. She killed a member of our Circle, someone that was believed to be immortal. No one had ever conceived of such a thing, and for the first time, I felt fear. Fear of death.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I wanted you to know that we share the same fear. Since we are running out of time, what I'm going to say next will be blunt. You and I may share the same fear, but there is a difference in how we react to it. Death is a reality for me now, but that doesn't mean I'm going to hide from it.”
“You're saying that I will.”
“I'm saying that you are, John.”
The words struck deep and she knew it. She looked like she was going to step closer to him and he moved away. He wanted to tell her to leave, to take August and everyone else and just go. Maybe she was right about him and maybe she wasn't, but he didn't need to hear those things now, not after everything he'd been through. What he wanted more than anything was to be alone.
He started to say as much when the western sky lit up with a brilliant pulse of white light. The flash lit the horizon like dawn, then faded to a steady glow above the mountains.
“No...,” she said as she turned to see the light. As she was looking toward the mountains, her image grew dim. He could see the grass on the other side of her body. When she was whole again, she looked at Bear with an expression that was a mixture of acceptance and fear. “The war has begun.”
He felt an odd twist of emotions. The instinct to fight was strong, but the sting of Meryn's words held him back more than they urged him forward.
“Will you stand with us?” she asked.
He took his shirt and held it in his hands for a moment before putting it back on. They didn't need him, he told himself. They'd taken too much already. He clung to the thought like a child to his blanket and he didn't care. There were things to do, affairs to settle. He took hold of the shovel and walked away from her, back toward the house. Back to his home.
“John,” she called after him. “John, please…”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t.”
He turned away from the western glow and never looked back.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Unworthy.
The word skipped in his head like a broken record. Every time he thought about it, the knot in his stomach wound tighter and he'd find himself back on Pyr, staring down an angry Talus as the monster pressed the sword deeper into his neck. Now he knew he had it all wrong. Talus wasn't angry; he was disappointed in his competition.
August sat back against the bench and watched a cloud drift over the moon. He’s right. I’m not one of them. I’m not good enough. The oak tree swayed next to the barn, laughing in the breeze.
Get over yourself, he thought. Meryn chose him for a reason, and it wasn't because he got his feelings hurt easily.
He let the thought linger, tapping his sword against an ant hill at his feet while he waited to see if the mini-pep talk took hold. Ever since the swamp, doubt was never too far away, though. When it crept in this time, he grabbed a stick from beside the bench and began to shave the end to a point with his blade. The edge cut through the branch easily, showering curved ribbons of wood to the ground.
The door to the Lawson house opened with a yawn. August sat up. All this time he'd been worrying about cheering himself up and he hadn't thought about what he was going to say to Bear once he came back.
“Bear?” he said, though the word was barely a whisper. It's John now, he remembered. It was too late anyway. Bear was already through the screened porch, leaving a shovel in the corner before he went inside. He didn't so much as look over his shoulder. Even though the bench sat in the shadow of the barn, there was no way Bear hadn't seen him there. August sat back against the bench. He eyed the point of his stick before tossing it to the ground.
Meryn followed Bear out of the corn soon after, walking in long strides toward the apartment staircase. She gave off a faint aura of light as she walked through the barn's shadow, shining through her human costume like she'd forgotten it was there.
“What's the matter?” she asked, looking him over. Her glow dimmed. “You seem upset.”
“Ah, nothing. It's just—”
“Good, because we have no time. Gather the brothers.” She marched across the driveway without waiting for an answer.
Thanks for the shoulder to cry on.
He tucked his sword away and jogged up the steps to the apartment. Inside, the lights were turned off. The Horsemen knelt in a circle by the bed with their heads bowed, each holding a curved blade behind their back. August stood at the door, unsure whether to interrupt the ritual. Eventually, they rose as one, tucking the blades inside their coats.
“Time to go,” he said.
The Horsemen nodded.
He led them down the stairs and out into the grass where Meryn stood in a shaft of moonlight between the barn and the oak tree. He expected her to have a synapse ready to take them away from the farm, but there was nothing.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
She pointed west. “Look, there.”
At first glance, it looked like any other mountain moonrise. A low ha
ze obscured the peaks. Then, through the clouds, he saw the outline of a white dome nestled between the hills, stretching for miles across. Bursts of orange and red popped in between fingers of lightning that radiated from the surface of the dome. An explosion erupted from the tip of a lightning bolt. Seconds passed before the rumbles shook through the valley.
“This is it, isn't it?” he asked.
“Yes. This is it.”
He always assumed he’d be excited when the fighting started, but now that it was here it felt like it was going to swallow him whole.
“It looks like bombs are going off.”
“The barrier is Galan's, meant to shield his armies from outside forces, like the ones that are attacking him now.”
Talk of armies reminded him that they didn’t have one. “What are we supposed to do out there when it's just the five of us?”
“You will not fight alone,” she replied, and by the tone of her voice, he was meant to accept it, no questions asked. “Once I open the synapse, you and the brothers can step through and I will meet you on the other side. When we get there, there will be a formal opening to the battle, and then...”
He knew what came next. Silence first, then shouting. Chaos. War. “Should I be looking for the other guy with powers?” he asked.
“There may not be anyone like you. Galan does not choose a single champion. He divides his energy amongst his entire army to strengthen them as a group. However, it is possible that he has selected a single fighter, and if so, they will be formidable. The only way Galan would take away from the group's power as a whole is if he believes he has a warrior befitting the strength and pride of his people.”
Someone worthy, August thought.
He glanced back at the house. It was as he remembered it the night he fought in the fields, dark and still, with the only light coming from the oven lamp, the one Ray always left on when he went to bed. Bear had been watching August from the shadows that night. He wondered if he was again.
Meryn was looking at him when he turned back.
“He's not coming,” she said.
“You're sure about that?”
“I can see his thoughts. John has made his decision.”
“Great.” There was no hiding his disappointment from her, but he could at least pretend he still had his confidence in front of the Horsemen. He turned to face them.
A speech wasn’t something he’d planned ahead of time, but what else was new? The Horsemen stood ready, trained soldiers awaiting their command. He struggled to hold their stare. The moment he was so used to, when a plan fell into place, no matter what shape it was in, came and passed leaving nothing behind. His mouth was dry. Every time he started to speak, the words hung in his throat.
The brothers passed a glance.
“August,” Meryn said, walking to his side. “May I say something before you begin?”
“Uh…yeah,” he stammered. “Go ahead.”
She radiated through her skin even more brightly than before. Whether it was for show or not, he couldn't tell, but the sight was striking enough to draw him out of the muddy thickness of his thoughts. He could only imagine what the Horsemen were thinking.
“Brothers,” she said. “Our time is short, so I will be brief. We are at war with a deity who seeks not only the end of my kind, but the end of existence. You have the luxury of fighting for your survival. I do not. My fate is in the hands of the people I choose to represent me, and I have chosen this man above all others. He had strength before I made him stronger, and purpose before I gave him a goal. I have seen into your thoughts. You long to serve a higher calling. There is no higher calling than this, and no better person to lead you through it.”
She stepped back, leaving him to face the Horsemen by himself again. He could already see the change in their eyes, focused and hungry. He felt a fire rising inside him as well. “Are you ready?”
The Horsemen removed their overcoats, revealing segmented body armor underneath. Molded Kevlar shells covered their arms and torso. They reached behind their backs, producing oval masks of polished black metal. They held the masks to their face while they secured them in place. When they were done, they looked at him, hidden behind smooth ebony shields. It was the first time he'd ever seen them as they wanted to be viewed by their prey: faceless.
“We must go,” Meryn urged.
He could hear the low hum of the synapse forming. Before he turned around, he took one last look back at the house. He waited, hoping for some sign of movement.
“Now, August.”
He gave the window a final glance before facing the synapse. Above the glowing border of the door, the sky bloomed with more intense flashes. “What am I supposed to do with this army of yours?” he asked while he snapped together the ends of his blades.
“You won't need to do anything. The Orphii will know exactly what they're supposed to do and who they are supposed to follow.”
“Good. I like easy.”
He hesitated before walking through, looking at Meryn, unsure whether he should say anything that resembled “goodbye.” Judging by her stony expression, a kiss was out of the question. Then, her inner light softened, shifting to a cool blue, and she offered a thin smile.
“Your victory awaits,” she said. “May fortune shine on you, my champion.”
Champion. He could feel the adrenaline building. Behind him, the Horsemen unlatched the blades from their hips. He reached to his neck, pressed the button, and formed the Liridian mask around his face.
With staff in hand, he breached the synapse, setting off the familiar disorientation as he came through the other side. He’d braced himself for walking into a war, but what he saw instead looked more like the aftermath. Burning husks of cars surrounded them. Sirens screamed in the distance as jets scorched the sky overhead, circling the dome of electricity that covered the valley like a white sun buried halfway in the earth. Fires dotted the hills where some of the planes had crashed.
A pair of jets came in low for another pass. Before they could release their missiles, a deep knell rang from the dome. Long streaks of white light shot out from the surface, ripping through the jets in an explosion of sparks and flames.
Meryn emerged from the synapse, walking past August to face the glowing sphere. Light broke through her skin in a crack of thunder as she rose into the clouds, shining against the darkness like a star.
“Enough!” she cried out, her voice filling the valley. A pool of light appeared above her, stretching its fingers across the sky until it fell across the mountaintops, shielding them in a case of fluid energy. “Galan Karell, show yourself!”
Galan's dome lifted off the ground and rose skyward to couple with Meryn’s half. The seams melted together, enclosing the valley in a giant shell. A single light hovered above the far end of the field. It was a dull gray to Meryn's shimmering white.
“At last, the traitor arrives,” a rumbling deep voice spoke. “I have been looking forward to this day.”
“You dare attack the people of my world.”
“When you choose to fight on a populated planet, you mark its people as enemies,” Galan bellowed back. “Their deaths are on your hands.”
The light from the dome cast the valley in a film of soft white light. August could finally see his surroundings. They stood at one end of an expansive oval grass field, at least three miles long and maybe a half-mile wide, bordered by a ring of black asphalt that hugged the bottom of the slopes. Two dirt roads cutting across the field split the canyon into thirds. The battlefield was wide open, with gentle hills and only a few trees scattered across the landscape. Meryn might've been new to war, but he was betting that Galan wasn't, which meant that he’d chosen this location for a reason. The answer seemed as clear as the line of sight from one end of the field to the other. Galan's troops would have guns, or at least something that needed to be aimed. As he looked around, the mountains were his best defensive option. When the Orphii got there, he’d have to figure out a
way to steer them to the trees so they might have a better chance.
Galan's voice boomed through the valley once again. “Meryn var Quiesse, daughter of the Somelian worlds and traitor of our Lady’s peace, will you accept your punishment of death when your champions fall?”
“Such are the laws of our Circle,” Meryn answered.
“Then as a last show of mercy, Lady Amara has instructed me to accept your surrender should it be offered. Will you submit?”
“Never,” she replied. Her light flickered with red. “I have not come this far to leave without watching you suffer.”
August smiled beneath his mask.
Galan's form separated into wisps of light without a response, rising to join the dome's canopy. Silence settled over the battlefield, broken only by the muffled wails of the sirens outside. Then, at the far end of the field, a spark fired, growing from the center into an iridescent sheet that stretched across the width of the valley. It was exactly the same size as the synapse he saw on Pyr.
He looked over his shoulder, hoping to see something similar on their side. There was nothing. The Orphii weren’t there.
Meryn disappeared in a flash just as the first wave of Galan's troops appeared through the synapse. They marched in a line, their footsteps creating a steady drum that sounded like faraway thunder. Rings of dark red lights pulsed above their heads as the vehicles he'd seen from the rocks on Pyr moved between the troops. The rest of the army was too hard to see from his vantage point, but they looked...tall, and their numbers were growing by the second.
“We're gonna get killed here, Meryn!” he called up.
She answered through his thoughts. Stand back.
A rising breeze stirred the air, whipping leaves and ash into clouds of debris that swirled through the basin like a cyclone. There was an electric charge to the wind, prickling his skin against the lining of his suit. A low hum rose in his ears. It built until the vibrations rattled his mask. Then, with a bone-jarring crack, the top of the dome erupted in a shower of lightning, tearing down from the roof with blinding white light and deafening thunder. The bolts hit the ground with enough force to knock him on his back. The storm of electricity kept them pinned to the earth until the last of the lightning dissipated, retracting into the shell of the canopy as quickly as it appeared.