by T. C. Edge
"You...know my name?" she asks, looking quite shocked.
"Of course I do," he says smoothly. "Brie talks about you all the time. Her beautiful blonde friend." He leans in. "That can only be you."
Tess, abandoning the more serious manner she's developed these days, quickly regresses into the same fawning fool she seems to become around handsome men. Once, she all but tried to kiss Rycard in front of Sophie when they first met, and had more than a few complimentary words to say about Emperor Domitian when he was here. She even, in a rather more tender turn, really liked Zander before he was taken from us.
So, to see her giggling and blushing isn't really so much of a surprise.
She reaches out, pressing him in the arm. "Oh, stop," she says. "Brie did not say that."
"She did, I can assure you," says Marcus. "But seeing you now, I think she sold you short. I'm not sure the words stunningly beautiful are quite enough for you..."
"Oh for goodness sake, just stop," I say, looking at the two of them. "Do you want me to bring up me lunch? Is that what you're trying to do?"
"Believe it or not, Brie," says Tess, evidently a little peeved, "not everything revolves around you."
I frown at the remark. Is that what she really thinks?
Is that how I come across?
"I...I know," I mumble. "I'm just..." I shake my head. "I'm just trying to find out what Marcus wants. You...did come to see me, didn't you?"
"Yes, only because I knew you were here," he responds casually. "But now I know Tess is here, I'll most certainly be back."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, now," purrs Tess.
I roll my eyes, but keep my mouth shut.
"But...yes, there is a serious reason I came."
Finally. "What is it?" I ask.
"You're needed, Brie," he says. "Over in the City Guard HQ. I've been looking for you. Have you been here the entire time, since we got back yesterday morning?"
I shake my head.
"Got back from where?" Tess interrupts.
"Oh, long story," I say.
"Great story," says Marcus. "We infiltrated the enemy camp. Went to save some of the Fangs. Rhoth, is it? That's his name?"
"What?!" exclaims Tess. "You got into the enemy camp? How the hell did you do that? I heard it was massive. Watertight security."
"Yeah, well, not much stops this one when she's on form," says Marcus, placing a friendly arm over my shoulders.
"I...I didn't know Rhoth was captured," Tess goes on. "How did that happen?"
"The Olympians took him and some of his men a few days back," says Marcus. "One of them got away. What's he called? West?"
"West is here?!" says Tess, her eyes widening further.
"They're all here now," says Marcus, continuing to speak for me. "You and this West, you're..." he raises his eyes suggestively.
"No, nothing like that," says Tess. "I mean, Rhoth had an idea to pair us up, right Brie. But, never happened. I'm not sure tribal life would suit me. He's a sweet guy, though, West. I'd like to see him, and Rhoth, at some point."
"Well you'll have to arrange that yourself," I say, running out of patience. "Marcus, just what is this about exactly. We can't stand here and go over everything that's happened in the last few days."
"Well at least he's telling me something," says Tess, glaring at me. "You've barely spoken a word since coming here."
"Ah," says Marcus, seeming to think of something. "Probably down to the reprimanding she got from the President." He looks at me. "I assume that's what happened, right? Probably why you've been hiding here too."
"Why would your grandmother reprimand you?" Tess asks.
"For getting Rhoth out," I sigh. "We weren't meant to go..."
"But we weren't going to leave them out there either," says Marcus defiantly. "Though, it's easy for me to say. I don't have to deal with your politics."
"No, you don't," I grumble, trying not to dwell on that meeting yesterday morning.
"Well, er, I'm sorry then, Brie," says Tess. "Always the rebel, hey?"
She smiles softly, and I do the same.
"Always," I whisper.
"Well, I guess we'd better get going," Marcus says, noticing as a fresh group of children begins appearing from the stairwell, perhaps notified of the presence of a Neoroman down in the hall. He eyes them with some trepidation. "There's only so much attention I can take," he says.
"Right, let's get you out of here then," I say, shaking my head. I quickly lean in and kiss Tess on the cheek, before taking Marcus's arm and leading him away, waving my goodbye to Mrs Carmichael across the hall. "I'll see you later, Tess," I say. "Keep those kids back, would you?"
She turns, grinning, the stampede growing ever nearer, and crouches into a defensive position, as if ready to tackle the first kid that gets too close. I hear her chuckling, laughing happily as they try to rush past, and she hooks a couple of the younger ones into her arms, lifting them into the air.
I never really took Tess as the particularly caring type. She was always more aloof, less tactile. To see her blossoming here brings some light, at least, to my heart.
As we reach the exit, and step into the late afternoon light, my eyes immediately pick up the sound of bombing once more. It seems to come and go, sometimes stopping for an hour or two, before starting up again at random, always targeting the more distant reaches of Outer Haven, primarily along the northern and western border.
"What do you think their strategy is?" I wonder out loud, thinking of how wasteful it all is. "They must know we'll have evacuated by now."
"Sure," says Marcus. "My guess is they're trying to batter down as much of the city as possible, lengthen the breach in the wall as much as they can. It'll make it easier to enter for their army."
"Yeah, but what about when they reach Inner Haven? The walls here are much more durable than before."
"Well," says Marcus, thinking as we wander down towards the City Guard HQ, situated just off the main square, "I'm thinking they'd just take out the defensive guns and then then bring their artillery closer. Resume the bombardment, only this time, on Inner Haven and its walls."
I nod, my eyes naturally looking towards the cenotaph as we pass, the monument built where the High Tower once stood. Zander's name is on there, along with so many others...
"Probably," I mumble. I guess we'll find out soon enough."
"Indeed," he says, a sly smile building on his face.
"What? What is it?"
"That's kinda why I came to fetch you, actually," he says. "We, er, have a prisoner, Brie. Secretary Burns has struggled to get through to him. He's hoping you'll have more luck getting into his head, maybe find out what the enemy are planning."
I frown. "What prisoner? I didn't know we brought any in. And why would a normal soldier know the main strategy? We don't share ours with our men. Only the top guys know..."
Marcus shakes his head, cutting me off. "Brie," he says. "This prisoner is far from a normal soldier."
I stop him as we walk, turning him to face me. "Who...who is it?" I ask.
His smile broadens. "You remember the guy Ares was fighting during the battle in the woods a few days back?"
I turn my mind back several days. "Sure," I say, thinking of the towering figure, so very similar to Ares himself. "Perses, the Herald of War."
Marcus nods, grinning. "Yep," he says. "Him."
20
Kira
I sit, alone, at the controls on the bridge, looking out at the deep black of the night.
With two full days having passed at sea, and Merk not leaving his post once - except, of course, to use the facilitates - I thought I'd be nice and give him a break.
His attempts to deny me were amusing, and typical of the man. But, the fact that he almost fell asleep while offering his protestations, sort of lost the argument for him. Eventually, he'd given up, retiring to his cabin to catch a few hours sleep, leaving me here to watch over things.
It's been two hours now since I
've been here, alone, Dom too catching up on some rest, the soldiers doing the same. Two hours to sit and ponder during the deepest ebb of the night, staring out at the endless black expanse ahead. The lights on the bridge are dimmed, helping me see through the glare, out of the large window and towards the ocean beyond. Aside from a couple of low glowing security lights behind me, only the gentle light of the control stations gives any illumination to the room.
I move from the captain's chair, stepping towards the door that leads onto the deck outside. The stiff breeze hits me hard, the boat still moving at great speed as we glide along the surface of the water. We aren't going quite so fast as at the start of the trip, owing to the wilder waters you get out here, but are still making good time.
I work along the front of the small deck outside the bridge, looking out as the ship presses on. I feel a slight sense of unease as I do so, the horizon giving off barely any light at all. I turn my eyes up. No moon. No stars. The clouds there are growing thicker and more dense, blotting out all of the celestial illumination above.
I feel the wind beginning to pick up, blowing across my hair, sending it whipping off to one side. I grip the freezing handrails, looking back out again. Using my Hawk vision, I can pick out the gathering clouds, bunching tightly, joining together in huge, nebulous masses.
Suddenly, a light flashes on the horizon, a bolt of lightning firing down into the ocean. A few moments later, the deep cackle of laughter follows, the thunder rumbling our way across the waves.
I don't take a moment to think or delay. This isn't something I should wait on, hoping the distant storm passes, or that it never materialises into something to concern us.
No, I'm not one to make those sorts of decisions here.
I hurry quickly down the outside deck, through a door, and towards the small quarters Merk has taken for himself, giving the main cabin to me and Dom. I knock, loudly, and hear no answer. After pretty much two and a half days without any proper sleep, that's not too surprising.
I don't knock again, but merely open the door, stepping quickly inside of the smaller cabin Merk has taken.
"Merk, wake up," I say loudly. "Wake up, we've got a problem."
I speed over and shake the old man awake, feeling only slightly guilty for the act. He comes around quickly, spluttering as he tries to see me through the darkness. "K-Kira?" he croaks, sitting up quickly, still fully dressed in case of emergency. "What's...what's happening?"
"It might be nothing to worry about," I say. "But there's a storm on the horizon. I thought I'd better wake you to be safe, in case we need to slow down or divert."
He blinks heavily, nodding as he stands to his old feet. "Of course, of course. You did the right thing."
He pulls on an old jacket, looking mightily tired as I lead him back to the bridge. Outside, the wind is still picking up, the cold bracing. Merk wraps himself up tighter as we quickly head down the side of the boat, spits of rain beginning to fall.
We step back inside, another crack of thunder rumbling towards us. It's heavier now, the source nearer. Merk steps to the window and looks out, his eyes quickly growing concerned.
"Take a look outside for me, would you?" he asks.
"For what?"
"I need to see where the storm's worst," he says, moving to the controls.
I feel the ship slow as I step back outside into the rain, spitting ever harder as I search the horizon, left and right. A few additional streaks of silver lightning begin to cut down from the skies, coming from not just ahead of us, but the sides as well. I scan quickly, and then rush back inside.
"It looks the same everywhere," I say. "It's getting worse, and quick."
"OK, then we'll push straight through. I've taken our speed down. It would probably be best to wake up the Emperor."
I nod, taking on the suggestion, almost framed as an order. I rather like this more assertive side of Merk, in his element here on the waves.
I hurry back outside and down the boat, moving to the main cabin. I perform the same routine as with Merk, only without the initial knocking. Stepping in, I find Dom quickly coming around, better rested as he is. I briefly inform him of what's happening.
"Great, just what we need," he says, shaking the cobwebs from his head, pulling on his robes. "What does Merk say about it. Is it a bad one?"
A crack of thunder bellows from outside, as though the heavens themselves are answering his question.
"I'll take that as a yes," he says. "Head back to see Merk. I'll go wake Max and his men."
He rushes off, as I return to Merk, everything progressing at such speed. The clouds are growing closer, thicker and darker. Below the boat, and with our speed significantly reduced, I start to feel the heavy rocking and rolling of the waves, shaping up and down, left and right. I turn to Merk, growing more anxious.
"This doesn't feel good, Merk," I say, my stomach starting to churn, so unused to this sort of motion.
"It...it'll be fine, Kira," he says. "These sorts of storms are common out here."
He doesn't deliver the news with any sense of conviction. I imagine he's telling the truth, but most people have the sense to avoid them. We don't have such a choice. There is no turning back for us now, and no going around. We only have one option.
To push right through.
I find myself unusually useless as Merk works at the controls. It breeds in me something that's quite rare. A fear, a very real fear, that doesn't usually manifest in me during times of strife.
No, usually in dangerous situations, I am in complete control. My own destiny is in my hands. And if I'm overcome, I'll damn well go down fighting.
Here...what can I do? Just cling on and hope it passes. Put my faith in others to steer us through to safety. It's a feeling I don't like, one that makes me uncomfortable. One that sets a heavy throb to my heart.
A very clear throb of fear.
The door crashes open once again, and the winds begin to howl their entry. I see Dom there, wrapped in his robes, drenched to the bone. He turns his eyes to Merk, water flicking off his hair as he does so.
"How bad is it, Merk?" he asks. "It doesn't look good to me."
"It isn't good, sir," says Merk, speaking suddenly more plainly to him. Because he's the Emperor? Because he also knows the seas, and can't be fooled as I can? Could be either. "You can feel the waves. And they're getting bigger. We need to stabilise, sir."
"Right," says Dom. "I'll get Max on it."
"Max?" I say. "What can he do."
"He's got Elementals and telekinetics in his troop. They'll help stabilise the boat on these waves."
Merk looks to me, seeing my raised eyes. "Common practice in emergencies like this," he says. "I always feel safer with a few of those sorts around."
Dom turns and rushes off again. I can hear him calling orders over the winds outside, and find myself drawn out to watch, my legs growing unsteady as the ships starts to roll harder. My feet slip as I try to go, the boat suddenly pitching as a larger wave hits us, the surface beneath my shoes made greasy by the rain. I feel my body sliding, moving towards the side, the black depths of the ocean suddenly seeming to rush up towards me.
I hit the side, and try to reach for the bars, but the surface is slippery too. I feel my body starting to go over, my weight carrying me towards the seas. With a final, desperate effort, I reach out again, gripping once more at the rail with both of my hands. I stop myself - just - from tumbling down into the waves, my heart thrashing harder than it has in a long, long time.
I do not like this, I think, as I continue down the side of the boat, moving more tentatively this time.
I find Dom at the back, a host of several dozen soldiers ahead of him on the main deck. He seems to be completing some sort of pep talk, the soldiers nodding along. Some look quite agitated, their expressions probably the same as mine. Clearly, not all Neoroman's like the water.
"OK, get to it," calls out Commander Maximus, picking up the reins from Dom. "Get into posi
tion. Nice and steady now. Let's straighten her out."
Dom turns to me. "Darling, what's wrong?" Yep, clearly I do look rather frightened, given his reaction. He's probably never seen me like this. He holds my shoulders tight. "Don't worry, it'll be fine. We'll be just fine, you'll see."
"Have you...ever been in a storm like this?" I quiver, tightening as another crack of lightning bursts through the skies.
"Like this? Of course," he says. "Yeah, loads of times."
"I'd have believed you if you'd just said once or twice," I say, my expression flat.
"OK then. Once or twice. Feel better?"
"I'll feel better when we reach dry land again."
"And head straight to a fight to the death with a bunch of powerful Olympians?" he asks. "That will make you feel better?"
I shake my head. "No, not better. Much better. I'm made for that, like a duck to water. This?" I shudder again, the rain beating down, the boat just starting to level out.
I look around, turning my eyes to the side, where one of Max's men is stationed. I see him holding out his hands, pressing them down to the waters below, his eyes closed tight in concentration, another guard standing nearby, ready to steady him should he look like he might teeter over and fall in.
"He's a Water Elemental," Dom tells me. "We have some Wind Elementals too. Both techniques work."
"Techniques?"
"Yeah." He nods to the man ahead of us, the winds whipping at his curls of brown hair. "He'll be manipulating the water itself, making sure it's calmer around this part of the boat. The Wind Elementals, meanwhile, will use the wind to affect the sea. They press the wind into the water, flattening it out that way. Same effect. Different techniques."
"It does...seem to be working," I call over the howling bluster.
It's an odd sensation, really, as the movement of the boat begins to calm. As the waves churn and roil about us, the ship itself seems to glide along calmly, as though moving down a river of flat water amid the wildness of the waves around it.
"It'll get harder the further we go," Dom calls, making sure I don't get too relaxed. "The waves are still getting bigger. The winds are still picking up. And the men will start to tire."