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by Autumn Birt


  There was one question that she couldn’t voice. Her eyes dropped to the soldier stats on a lower monitor. All flat. Arinna tore her eyes away as dark vertigo rose beneath her. Grip on the handrail tight enough to throttle it, she asked, “Who took the orders to the Guard this morning?”

  “Minister Eldridge himself, mam.”

  She would kill him. Eyes darting toward the stats against her will, Arinna turned away. Across Command everyone waited, motionless, as if freezing could stop time, stop what had happened. Arinna swallowed her desire to scream denials, curses, just scream. It writhed with life waiting to be born in her innards, threatening nausea.

  “MOTHER must be told,” Arinna ordered.

  A waxen girl gazed at her, eyes unfocused. “Will you?”

  “No, find someone else,” Arinna snapped. The girl, woman, winced. Realization touched her unfocused eyes. “Ms. Prescot, I’m so sor—”

  “Families must be notified,” Arinna said, cutting her off.

  Her jaw ached, she was grinding her teeth so hard. She thought of others waiting for word, waiting with hope. Just as she had been half an hour ago. Before word came that something was wrong and that they needed a strategist. Was it better to have watched than to be in her office pacing?

  “I will tell Jared. He is Captain now.”

  If anyone responded, Arinna didn’t hear it above the roaring in her ears. She left the room without physical connection to her feet. Denial as much as her decision to find Jared kept her from dropping to the floor in tears. Her mind caught on the need to locate him like a lifeline. It was a problem she could solve.

  Jared had been ordered to stay behind. Most people would take that as a reprieve. Arinna knew it would just piss off her husband’s best mate. She guessed Jared would be doing weapons maintenance or shooting something. The chaos of fighting a war with no fronts that had embroiled them over six months before had improved. Shifting lines gained the Guard traction. There were zones with no FLF. But losing ground made the FLF even more dangerous. Bombs erupted, often not when planned based on minimal carnage to the Guard and victims belonging to the FLF. Their precise operations were falling apart. It was a small victory. It frightened Michael.

  He’d told her last night that he wanted to split command. Risking both himself, now that he was the leader of the Grey Guard, and Jared, who was his second, was too much. Arinna hadn’t liked it. Jared protected Michael as much as Michael did Jared. Both foolishly risking everything for each other and somehow always getting through. Arinna didn’t know if she should be grateful for Michael’s preminescent foresight or angry that it might have been Jared’s absence and instinct that had allowed Michael to fall into a trap. No. It wasn’t Michael’s fault or Jared’s. It was Eldridge for having sent them there. The numbness twisted to anger again as Arinna found Jared in a ballroom turned firing range.

  Anxious for news, he stopped shooting as soon as the room light indicated someone had entered. He put the gun down when he saw it was her.

  “How bad is it?” Jared asked, pulling off his ear protection. “The mission was west. I know that much by the directions the planes headed.” He crossed his arms, still mad.

  “The mission suffered extreme casualties. A strategic FLF base was targeted toward the reestablished western front,” Arinna paused, thoughts unthreading.

  “Where?”

  “Kiev.”

  Jared frowned. “Michael said you were uneasy about Kiev. It didn’t sit right. You changed your mind?”

  Arinna ignored the question. “It was a trap. They set off a bomb, at least one. Looks like it was dirty if not small nuclear.”

  Jared blinked, the personal anger fading. “How bad?” he asked again.

  “Our fighters were directly over the city when the bombs blew. We suffered a total loss.”

  The door scraping open a moment later interrupted their silence. Even though she’d witnessed it, the news was really just sinking in. The Guard was gone. Michael was gone. Everything felt surreal.

  “First Lieutenant Vries, Minister Prescot, you are needed for an emergency Defense Council meeting in Secretary Eldridge’s office in five minutes.”

  “It is Captain Vries now,” Arinna corrected. Jared flinched.

  —

  “Thank you for joining us, General Vries. Though I regret the necessity of your promotion,” Secretary Eldridge said in somber greeting.

  “It is Captain,” Jared answered.

  “Don’t tell me you take stock in that superstition. I would think today’s events would prove there is nothing lucky about the rank of captain,” Eldridge countered.

  “It is the highest rank common to all branches of the combined military, sir,” Jared replied calmly, if coldly.

  Eldridge snorted. “Of course.”

  Arinna’s hatred of Eldridge was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. The numbness and fear of what would come when that anger evaporated restrained her from throttling Eldridge. She was boiling with paradoxes; a tipping point not yet reached.

  Eldridge paused in front of her, mouth open but without words. Arinna breezed by him, sitting next to Jared without seeing the chair or room. Heads shifted toward her, quick glances hurriedly turned away. Arinna stared straight ahead, fingers curled against the edge of her seat. Next to her, Jared tensed as if for a battle.

  Why had she come?

  The question smacked her in the face. Bringing her back to a cold present. Duty? She’d never have asked this of anyone. But Eldridge had asked for her too. The main contingent of the Guard was gone. The FLF was a larger threat than it had been an hour before. Arinna dragged her focus to Eldridge, realizing he was speaking but she hadn’t even noticed.

  “—was launched this morning to take out strategic bases belonging to the FLF. Unfortunately, the FLF destroyed its Command and the city rather than surrender. By doing so it also annihilated the Air Guard and nearby mobilized ground troops.”

  The hard facts of Eldridge’s concise assessment of the morning kept Arinna from responding to how much he left unsaid. Eldridge’s gaze swept over Arinna as if to confirm she would accept his version of events. She ignored him, watching Lewin instead. Lewin had been at the meeting to select targets as well.

  Lewin frowned, sitting forward though he didn’t speak. Arinna didn’t expect Lewin to betray Eldridge, just like she had not. Saving Europe came first and taking down Eldridge’s power would need more than a shoutout at a meeting in the aftermath of the loss of the best of their military. But Lewin’s expression told Arinna what she wanted to know. Lewin hadn’t been aware in the change of the target either.

  “When were the ground forces sent in?” Jared asked, arms crossed as he sat back in his chair. He looked like he was holding himself together about as well as Arinna, which was barely, but someone needed to get them out of this mess.

  Faint red stained Eldridge’s pale cheeks. Arinna nearly hugged Jared for seeing what she had not. “I gave the order two days ago, expecting we would confirm Kiev as a target.”

  Jared swore. “How much of a force do we have left?”

  “Do you really think the FLF destroyed its base to take out our fighters?” Lewin asked.

  “It isn’t outside of reason,” Arinna said, the room falling silent at her quiet voice. “Considering some of the recent failed attacks that took out more FLF troops than ours, it is possible.”

  A modicum of tension oozed from Eldridge as she met his eyes. He hadn’t expected her to placidly agree. Good. Let him think she accepted the subterfuge he was offering.

  “You were in the Command Center when the bombs exploded?” Eldridge asked her.

  “Yes,” Arinna answered, tensing muscles to keep from reacting to the memory.

  “What is your assessment?”

  This is why Eldridge had called her in. She had witnessed the attack, the only strategist in the room to do so. “Most likely there were multiple bombs set to explode across the city,” Arinna said without inflect
ion.

  “You said you thought they may be dirty?” Jared asked her.

  “I’ll need to check the signature. But yes. I think at least one was nuclear. The EMP disabled the cameras before the fire or shock wave reached them.”

  “That makes the risk to any survivors high. We’ll need to organize medical teams,” an aide named Shapner began. She slicked back her dark hair, which emphasized her roman nose.

  “There were no survivors,” Arinna cut in.

  “You can’t be certain. We need to organize,” Shapner argued.

  “I am certain,” Arinna replied, staring her down until she looked away. “I was in Command. All of our soldiers’ stats are monitored. They are all dead.”

  “The EMP,” Jared said, sitting forward. “It could have disrupted the transmissions. We don’t know. I should fly to Kiev. We need eyes over there!”

  “Not until we check if it is nuclear. You can’t go flying into radiation, Captain,” Shapner warned.

  “What are the FLF doing? Who is watching them?” voiced another aide.

  “And what is the status of our remaining troops? Where are they?” Lewin asked again.

  The room dissolved into chaos, but Arinna barely heard it. The floor dropped out under her feet. Could the EMP have disabled communications and disrupted the soldiers’ stats?

  “They’re dead,” Arinna said, tears filling her eyes despite her best effort. The room jostled to quiet again. “We are getting a reading. The stats aren’t offline; they are flat. Jared, they are dead.”

  Jared held her gaze, his expression fading from adamant denial to despair at least as deep as hers. She looked away before she fell in.

  “What is the next step then?” Lewin asked, voice hushed.

  “I recommend you find out what we have left for troops and what the FLF is up to,” Arinna said, standing. She was out the door before anyone thought to answer. She made it down the hallway before she couldn’t stop the tears.

  —

  “Arinna, I just heard.”

  Arms caught her, pulling her against a warm chest. Overcome, it took Arinna a moment to register it was Byran who had caught her. She collapsed against him grateful for whatever fate had brought him to this military outpost.

  “I’d hoped it wasn’t true,” Byran whispered in her ear, supporting her weight or she would have fallen to the floor. “Come. You shouldn’t be here.”

  Arm pressing her tight to his side, Byran navigated down the rambling hallways of the country estate turned military headquarters. She paid no attention, walking when he nudged her forward and stopping when he did. A few words were exchanged. An order given. Finally, Byran pulled open a door to a small room holding dusty light, a bureau, and a bed. It was one of the few rooms in the manner that hadn’t been converted to an office or barrack.

  Arinna staggered to the bed, gratefully sitting on the threadbare blankets. The room looked out into the bleak landscape of a warm February afternoon. She couldn’t remember what country they were in. It looked French with the lines of cypress trees reaching for cloudy skies. Byran sitting on the bed next to her jostled Arinna from her mindless stare at the clouds and bare branches.

  “Thank you,” she said, throat sore from crying.

  Byran took her hand, shaking his head before he kissed her fingers. “Stay here. Let me get you some tea. Just lie down, rest. Promise me you’ll stay.”

  Arinna nodded, curling up on the bed like a child. Byran leaned over to kiss her temple, smoothing her hair from her face. She was staring at the bureau where its form faded into a shadow that reached out from the cobwebbed corner of the room when the door clicked closed behind him.

  There was nothing in the room to remind her of who she was. Nothing at all linking her life to those that had just ended. Michael held no part of this place. She hoped that would help. It didn’t. Tears slid over the bridge of her nose. Michael would never see this room. She would never touch him again. Sobs racked her so hard, she thought she would rip apart.

  Byran returned before she’d cried herself empty. He slid behind her, holding her as she sobbed. His warm breath and the brush of his lips against her neck became as much a part of her as the bottomless grief. She loved him for how tightly he held her, pressing her against him as she cried, just as much as she wished he were Michael. The emotions rolling through her were too vast to understand or fight.

  Eventually, the intensity diminished. Byran wiped away her seeping tears. “I brought tea, though by now it is no better than the vinegar I used to try to save you from in Madrid.”

  Arinna sobbed a laugh. “That is alright. Especially if it is still warm.”

  It was tepid and strong, but it was tea. Arinna was grateful Byran had found any in the mess of shifting headquarters that life had become. Over the rim of her cup, she found Byran watching her. With rumbled hair and brown eyes looking to have been crying as well, raw emotions twisted at the site of him. Arinna looked away not wanting to feel ... anything for at least a few minutes.

  “I can’t believe you are here,” she said.

  “When they split up Parliament and embedded the fragments with military outposts, you didn’t think I’d make certain to end up near you?”

  Arinna blushed, fueling a welcome rush of warmth. Of life. “You always had connections.”

  “And I’ve learned how to use them watching you,” he replied, taking her hand.

  Her eyes filled with tears again. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping the new moisture away. “I’m a mess.” Byran waved her apology away, his eyes darkening in acknowledgement that she had cause. “Actually, I’m really sorry I missed your wedding. Where is your wife ... Isabella?”

  “I understood. Choice between war and a wedding, I knew which was the most important.”

  “Hah. The wedding! It will last longer than the war, I would think. I should have come.”

  Byran’s eyes snapped from sad to a riveting energy that passed between them. Arinna couldn’t deny she felt it too, even if it weren’t the time and place for it. Byran’s offer to stay in Spain with him on the night they had almost kissed hung in the air between them. Arinna swallowed another mouthful of tea, washing down memories of that night, the following morning, and Michael’s jealousy at her tears for another man. The transposition was too much. Arinna trembled so that she had to put her cup down.

  Byran reached for her, but a movement of her hand held him back. Staring out the window, Arinna blinked her eyes clear. She didn’t want to be left to her thoughts, so she struggled for something to say.

  “A Senator ... you’ve done well. I’ve heard of the things you’ve put forward to help the Guard.”

  “Not all my ideas. Derrick helped too. I want to see this war end. This isn’t how I want my daughter and son to grow up, amid battles with scarce food or power.”

  “Daughter and son,” Arinna whispered, staring at him. “When? I didn’t know.” Her heart was flipping in her chest.

  “The son, not yet. Soon. That is where Isabella is. Safe, as safe as I can make her while she waits to give birth. A few months left. Cerilla was born over a year and a half ago.”

  Pride and awe filled Byran’s roughly handsome face. It was a look she’d wanted to give to Michael, one they had hoped for but had never found the time to make. The thought undid her composure. Well what little she had managed to scrape together. She fell into Byran’s arms, simply grateful to be held.

  They spoke more later when the tears dried again. Lying side by side on the small bed, her head nestled against his shoulder, they talked into the late afternoon and dim twilight of evening. Sleep came in fits, like the tears. Byran stayed, both of them ignoring what lay beyond the small world of the room, as if by doing so they could alter time. But the day faded. Night came. And a morning would come as well. Arinna wasn’t ready to face what it held. She buried herself in the warmth that Byran offered, forgetting her life and time passing. Well after midnight, sleep came at last.

  By
ran still held her when Arinna opened her eyes to a faint grey dawn. She expected disorientation or at least a moment when hopes held reality at bay. But that didn’t happen. She knew exactly who held her, where she was, and what had happened the day before. Tears sparked in her eyes and faded. That was it. Life would go on. At least hers.

  Byran woke as she stirred next to him. There was no surprise in his eyes either, just warmth that gilded the brown of his irises. He kissed her, slow and tender as if in acknowledgement of the tragedy that brought the morning to fruition.

  “I should find us something to eat. We’ve only drunk some rather pathetic tea since yesterday afternoon. I’ll go find us some toast or something.”

  Arinna nodded, throat raw and aching. She watched him dress, emotions and thoughts resting only on the moment. The ruddy dawn darkened his tan skin and brightened his black, rumpled curls. In the dim room, he looked a painting out of time.

  Byran smiled, seeing her eyes tracing his form. He returned to the bed, kissing her lips and then forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Sleep some more.”

  He left her, his glance lingering as he closed the door. Which made her sad, but she didn’t understand why. The world remained wrapped in a misty grey morning with sharp edges blunted. Arinna shook her head to clear it. She could accept that grief wrecked havoc on her emotions, but she could not tolerate muddled thinking. They were still at war. She would be needed.

  By not thinking of it, the reason for her sadness came to her. There had been no regret in Byran’s eyes. He’d sent his pregnant wife and daughter somewhere safe. But he had stayed and even chosen an outpost near her. She had seen him bed women for pleasure, but there were only two he had asked to stay with him. And she had never answered.

 

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