He frowned. Not sure what to think. He believed he understood what the entries were saying, what they’d done to him—or tried to, but it was too strange and unnerving to readily accept.
There were also diagrams, X-rays, brain schematics, and other documents including pictures of him lying naked and comatose on a medical table. Notes about blood pressure, a medical chart, and other details of his physiology were included.
On one of the documents was scribbled a note:
“Process was completed at 0635. We had to rush the final stages and I do not know what the outcome will be. But as I told Dr. Ferguson, either it will set or the patient will die. She has had reservations about this process, and believes we are playing god, but that’s foolishness. We have an opportunity here. One that might determine whether or not our city can be liberated.”
Antares had just finished reading it when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see Dr. Erikson.
“They said you came in here. That you were looking for me,” the older man was well-composed, even if his eyes betrayed his concern. Obviously he hoped Antares hadn’t solved the mystery yet.
Antares dropped the stack of papers in his hand and approached Dr. Erikson. The older man held his ground. “I’ll give you one chance to tell me the truth, Doc.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I know what you did. The sick thing you tried to do. But it didn’t work. I remember who I really am. And who I’m not.”
Antares resisted the urge to grab Dr. Erikson by the throat and press him against the wall. He was outraged at the deceit, what Dr. Erikson had tried to do to him, and how he’d desecrated both Caythis’ memory and Caythis himself. It truly was a sick idea born of a disturbed mind.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, Caythis, but don’t play games with me. This is my facility, that’s my army outside that door, and they will come for me if they don’t see me very soon.”
Antares grabbed Dr. Erikson by the collar, not giving him a window to slip away. They locked eyes.
“I told you, I know who I am. Now I want you to tell me everything. I want to hear it from your lips. In return, I’ll let you live.”
Dr. Erikson looked conflicted. As if part of him wanted to continue the charade, salvage the situation, somehow convince Antares that he was Caythis, so he could still be a tool. But another part feared for his life. Antares could see it in Dr. Erikson’s eyes.
“You know me, Doc,” said Antares. "You know what I'm capable of."
“What do you want to know?” Dr. Erikson eventually said, his voice weak and submissive.
“What happened at the summit? Why am I still breathing? And did I kill Caythis?”
Dr. Erikson’s brow wrinkled as he thought back. “I don’t know exactly what happened that night. Caythis left Citadel along with an advance force he organized. Soldiers who’d chosen to desert the capital because they wanted to save Andar, if it wasn’t too late. Caythis found you and you fought him.”
“Yes, I remember now,” said Antares, the images came back to him easily. He recalled his surprise at seeing Caythis come at him. He hadn’t wanted to fight him. He’d just wanted to survive. He knew an army was coming to stop him and had arranged for Rigil and half his force to flank the attackers. But Rigil had betrayed him, leaving him alone. Forced him to face the enemy without aid. An enemy whose face had been all too familiar.
“What I told you before was true. The District was organized to protect Kira and Gavin, and we were running to Silverwind when we found you. We’d expected your force to be on the main highway, so we cut through Andar on our way to Silverwind. Thinking the safest route to go was where you’d already been. We ran into the remains of your force. They were few after your battle with Caythis, but still dangerous. We fought them and they scattered. I was shocked when I saw how many of them wore the colors of Andar, soldiers who’d turned on their own government. I wanted to move quickly for Silverwind but our group decided to search through the dead and collect the wounded. Only a few were still breathing. We were hoping to find Caythis and that’s when we found you.”
Antares braced himself emotionally. He needed to know. But was afraid of what he’d hear.
“There in the ruins of your battle,” Dr. Erikson continued. “You were broken. Your sword deactivated and tossed aside. You were bent over Caythis who lay dying at your feet. You’d removed your helmet, and his, and were weeping. You seemed so weak. We formed a perimeter and approached cautiously. When we came at you, you’d already passed out. And looked like you were dead.”
“I was dead,” said Antares darkly, remembering some of the moment—Caythis’ bronze armor lying before him, scarred by plasma. He recalled sending his army away, choosing to remain with his fallen cousin. Choosing to die with him. Hating himself for what he’d done.
“We took you with us. You and Caythis. Even though he’d died before we surrounded you. We meant to put you on trial in Silverwind for crimes against humanity. We wanted to show the world that you’d been brought to justice. And then we’d give Caythis a hero’s funeral.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No,” admitted Dr. Erikson. His eyes glanced away briefly. “Without Caythis we had nothing. Skyhaven had been damaged by your flight out of the city, Andar was totally destroyed, Citadel had fallen to Rigil and the rest of your rebellion, only Silverwind had been untouched. And it has never been a stable city.”
“So you hoped to resurrect Caythis. Give me Caythis’ memories, make me believe I was him. Yet still have my magical abilities. You would have harnessed the power of Antares, yet leashed him. I was to be your weapon against Rigil and any who opposed you. Was that the plan, Doc?”
Dr. Erikson’s face flushed. “I convinced King Talonis to go along with it. But it was always my idea. I believed that, even in death, Caythis was still our brightest hope. If I could make him live again, I would.”
“That was a sick thing you did.”
“Was it? No one knew what Antares or Caythis looked like, now that the masters were slain. Just suits of armor, mysterious and powerful. Imagine if we could get you to believe you were Caythis, and to support those ideals he believed in, our cause. His reputation and your power, we could win this war. And we could give back hope to the people by announcing Antares was killed and Caythis had lived to fight another day. We could rally the forces of Silverwind, and Skyhaven, and the scattered armies of Andar, and take back Citadel!”
“But it didn’t work. I don’t have Caythis’ memories. I have my memories. They’d been suppressed for a while, but they’re back now. I am Antares once more.”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen. We grafted part of Caythis’ brain into your head, and we meant to remove as many memories of yours as we could, and give you his.”
Antares shook his head. He’d read this, he’d discovered this, but hearing it from Dr. Erikson’s own lips filled him with an even greater level of disgust.
“Julia Ferguson felt the same way you do. That it was wrong. Especially because the original plan involved handing Caythis’ corpse to the people claiming it was Antares.”
“And let them desecrate it?” Antares felt truly nauseous. “You would honor your enemy and feed your fallen hero to the dogs? Let them spit on his body and burn it? That’s how you’d honor Caythis’ memory?”
“Let me tell you something, the dead are nothing. It is only the welfare of the living that counts, the dead have no desires and they feel no pain. And know this too, if Caythis had been alive to make the choice, he would have agreed. He was ready to do anything to restore order to the world. Especially since his wife was already dead and he had no children.”
“You knew Miriam was dead, didn’t you? You sent me to find her, to manipulate me into going to Skyhaven, knowing I would only find her grave. That she wouldn’t be able to tell me I wasn’t Caythis.”
“Of course,” said Dr. Erikson.
“You have no conscience, Doc.”
“Funny thing to hear coming from you.”
“So after your operation on me, Lucida caught wind of what you were doing and decided she wanted a piece of me herself. Wanted to control Antares’ great power,” he looked at his left hand. Scarred and seemingly so weak. And yet a window of almost unlimited fire. “She attacked you, you and I were separated, and the rest is history.”
Dr. Erikson nodded. “That’s right. And when we found you again, and you believed you were Caythis, it was a true miracle—for a moment I almost believed in god. And who’s to say you were wrong? Who’s to say you weren’t Caythis? You had his memories inside you. Part of his brain. You believed you were him. Surely, in some sense, you truly were him.”
Antares almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Dr. Erikson? Are you all right?” Captain Grayson’s voice could be heard from around the corner.
“Tell me one last thing,” said Antares. “Was Kira in on it? Does she know who I really am?” He needed to know. His heart still stung for her and it would be crushed if he learned that she too had been deceiving him this whole time.
“Why does it matter?” asked Dr. Erikson.
“Just tell me.”
“No. She was only a child. We never told her.”
Antares closed his eyes. Letting all this new information soak in. Finally, at long last, the puzzle was assembled. He knew everything. Even if it made his skin crawl and filled him with an ocean of guilt and self-enmity. At least having the knowledge gave him some measure of serenity. “Thank you,” he whispered and tossed Dr. Erikson aside.
The doctor dusted himself off just as Captain Grayson and several soldiers, all from her elite guard and brandishing weapons, entered. “Is everything all right, sir?” she asked.
“Everything’s fine, stand down, everybody,” said Dr. Erikson. Captain Grayson gave the order and the soldiers lowered their weapons. Then, speaking to Antares, Dr. Erikson said, “you can still help us, you know. You can still slay Rigil and free Citadel.”
“We’ll see.” Antares felt he’d worn out his welcome and the last place he wanted to be was here, where it’d all happened. He pushed his way through the soldiers and out toward the exit. He had his answers and now felt empty and purposeless. He wondered briefly which was worse, a pleasant lie or a painful truth. He decided it was the truth.
Coming toward him, from the long end of the hall, was Kira. She seemed to glow with every virtue that he lacked. Innocence, beauty, and love. He wanted to see her, and hold her, more than anything. But that very desire felt tainted, now that he knew who he was, and how his actions had injured her. Cost her her city, her throne, and her parents. He wanted to see her smile, but he knew looking into those pure innocent eyes would be unbearable. Instead he turned away, even as he heard her shout “Caythis!”
He turned around and headed back the other way. Through the secret door. Past the room where Dr. Erikson and Captain Grayson still stood. Making his way toward the surface exit he’d been led to after the enforcer attack.
He paused briefly in the tiny stone room. Looked at the casket encased in cement with the black flowers on top.
Here lies the true Caythis Ceteris, he realized. He bowed his head, paid his respects, and moved on.
“Caythis? Where are you going?” a warm voice called from behind. He turned to see Kira. She gave him a funny look that seemed to blend confusion, irritation, and pleasant surprise.
Seeing her made him weak. She was so lovely, even in this grim place, her smile invoked some truly powerful emotions within him. He loved her. And yet everything bad that had ever happened to her had, ultimately, been his fault. He thought of how much pain and suffering he'd caused her and felt a burning in the back of his eyes. “Hello, Kira.”
“Where are you going in such a hurry? You owe me an apology, you know,” she looked stern, though playful. “For going to Skyhaven without even saying goodbye.”
He looked into her face, stared into those majestic brown eyes. “No, Kira. I owe you so much more than that.” His words were sober and came out slowly. When he finished them, he looked away.
He felt her hand on his armor. “Caythis, what’s wrong?” And he couldn’t keep his face away from hers, their connection was electric. His heart pounded and with each beat it felt like it was stabbing itself with a needle. She was looking up at him, concern deep inside those piercing brown eyes that couldn't be lied to. Giving him compassion that he didn’t deserve. He took her hands in his, still gazing into her eyes, and gave her a gentle, affectionate squeeze. Then, with tremendous effort, he let her go.
“I'm so sorry, Kira. But they lied to me.” He stared at the casket. “They lied to me about everything.”
“Who lied to you?”
“I…” the words he had to say were the hardest to ever come from his lips. “I’m not Caythis," he pointed to the casket. "He is.” His eyes met hers once more. “I’m Antares.”
She didn’t react immediately. Her eyes narrowed and confusion crossed her uncomprehending face, but when it was clear he wasn’t joking, her eyes widened and the hint of a smile on her lips disappeared. She knew the truth. And that was more important than any future they might have shared.
Antares swept away, toward the exit.
“Wait, don’t go.” Her voice was like a whisper. It took him completely by surprise. Not a trace of anger in her words, only quiet grief, and even compassion. “Don’t leave me.”
Deep inside he wanted to stay. To close his mind and forget everything. To take her hands again and to hold her. But the idea made him sick, knowing who he was. Like he’d be taking advantage of her. He knew he had to leave. Had to be alone.
“I’m sorry, Kira.” He held out his left palm flat towards the ground, focusing. “But where I’m going, nobody may follow.” He blasted a concentrated jet of fire directly onto the stone floor, very careful to keep it away from her. With nothing to burn, the magical fire dissipated on contact with the stone. But it left behind a wall of smoke and he used it as a screen to slip away.
Eventually he returned to his jetbike and left Silverwind. Vowing never to return.
24
The blackened remains spread out before him seemed endless. Covering the land in crumbled ruins from horizon to horizon. He watched the distant tide, for a time, as it charged into the bay. The view from the top of the cliff was spectacular and, as the sun set, he was bathed in a red sky, like burgundy fire.
This is where it should have ended.
He stood in the same place he’d taken Emon, at the summit where Antares and Caythis had met for the last time. There had been something hauntingly familiar about this place when he’d stood here last, but now he remembered everything—the clarity was like crystal. And the phantoms surrounding him were almost tangible.
The ashen remains of a thick, black circle around the flattened summit stood out. In his mind, the ring of fire still burned hot. Echoes of gunfire and screams repeated and, as he looked upon the fallen city, he imagined it as it once was. Its culture, splendor, and majesty rolled out before him. And then he saw the fires. Burning everything. Towering flames that licked the horizon and huge columns of smoke that stretched into the blackened sky.
He thought of the man leaping from the jetbike, as it exploded. How only then his bronze armor became clear. Then that feeling of dread and remorse as he crossed blades with the man he most admired.
Antares heard his own voice in his mind. “You.” It wasn’t a question, it was a plea. A forlorn hope that somehow Caythis, like an older brother, could set things right. But still knowing it was impossible.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Antares remembered saying. He’d never wanted to hurt Caythis, and he feared him.
“You shouldn’t have started this,” Caythis had said. There had been no trace of sympathy.
As Antares had stood there, he’d thought of all that had happened to him. How it all began. His failure, his loss of Ariana, Merak�
�s death, but more than anything else he thought of Sierra. He longed for her. He missed her. And it tortured him that he hadn’t protected her. That he’d allowed her to suffer the way she did.
“Sierra,” he recalled saying. “This was for Sierra.” The words were broken. He hadn’t come to Andar to burn it to the ground. He’d never wanted this. Hadn’t meant for this to happen.
“How dare you hide your evil deeds behind her good name?” Caythis had said. And Antares had known he was right, that Sierra never would have wanted this.
“Please… don’t be my enemy, Caythis,” he’d said. “No one understands. I need you to understand.” The words had been jumbled, he hadn’t known what to say. Despite that, his heart knew Caythis was his last hope. Yet he was given no sympathy. Antares recalled the fear that came over him as Caythis readied his attack stance.
“There’s no going back, Antares. I can’t let you leave this place alive. We both know what you deserve.” Caythis’ words had been cold, and they’d broken the last ounce of hope that remained in Antares’ spirit. Forced him to realize that, no matter how tall his regrets, he’d reached a point of no return. And the wounded remains of his soul bled dry.
“It’s not my fault…” Antares had said desperately. Not wanting to think about what he’d done. Instead his mind was filled with images of Quintis, Ariana, Merak, and Sierra. “It’s not true. It isn’t true! I’ve only done what was forced upon me!”
“Antares, you bring this upon yourself!” Those final words repeated in his mind. Inside them was absoluteness and inevitability.
He tried not to think of their fight. The furious blows they’d exchanged. How, no matter how much he hated himself, he refused to die. Was willing to kill to save his worthless life. Was so terrified by the black unknown.
Secrets of Silverwind Page 24