by Matt King
I’m alone.
Although the light of her arrival still made him squint, Meryn had learned to control its brightness so as not to draw too much attention. She formed like sand filling a glass, materializing from a haze of milky sprites until she stood in front of him on the beach, her brilliant blue eyes catching his. All it took was a smile. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her fully, savoring the electric charge that came from the touch of her skin.
“You taste of frille,” she said.
“I had a few.”
“I am surprised you are still able to stand.”
“As big as I am, it was nice to finally drink something that made me feel anything at all.”
She laughed and ran her fingers down the arms of his suit. “How long before you must return?”
“As jumpy as he is, I expect August’ll call for a search party if I’m not back on the ship within the hour.”
“Then we must make good use of our hour.”
They made love as they always did, fiercely, as if making up for lost time, but also as if trying to fill their memories to last whatever stretch of loneliness lay ahead. There were many things he loved about her, maybe nothing more than the look in her eyes when she let her guard down with him. As much as she kept hidden, it made him feel good to know that when they were together, some of that wall disappeared, replaced by a window he could see through, to the woman he wanted more than anything. It didn’t matter that she was a god. They were their own escape. He wished it could go on forever.
Still holding each other, they settled into a still silence, their bodies warm against each other.
“I have missed you, John Lawson.”
“I missed you too. It’s been too long.”
Twenty-one days, by his count, all of them aboard a ship where he couldn’t break away to call for her. The best he could do was to send her brief messages through the stone to let her know he was still alive.
Meryn laid her head against Bear’s chest, pressing her ear against his heart. She held onto him like he might float away.
“Did August see you leave?” she asked.
Bear shook his head. “He was in a closed-door meeting.”
“I take it from our location that he still won’t allow us to speak.”
“Not yet, no. He’s made it pretty clear that talking to you is akin to treason. I’m working on it.”
“I do not blame him. If I were August, I would not want to speak to the gods either.” She craned her neck to look at him. “I was worried when I did not hear from you earlier.”
“Surprise trip,” he said, thumbing toward the island. “August got a call. They needed us.”
“I wondered when Paralos might make his move. His thirst for revenge is almost as great as his thirst for power. Were there many casualties?”
“A few.”
Meryn’s eyes took on their familiar sadness. “Too many.”
“We did the best we could.”
She forced a smile. “I know you did. I did not mean to imply otherwise. I only meant that they were more lives lost because of a war I started. Innocent lives.”
“You didn’t start this, remember? But I still believe you’ll have a hand in ending it.” At once, the image of Gemini popped in his mind, a reminder of the work that still lay ahead. His partnership with Paralos was a nightmare pairing she’d predicted. He took her hand in his and squeezed.
“What is it?” she said, her tone withering.
“What do you mean?”
“When you have bad news, you take my hand like this. What has happened?”
There was no hiding things from her. Even though she wouldn’t read his mind, she could still tell when there was something there to read. “It’s Gemini,” he said.
“What about him?”
Bear took a deep breath through his nose. The briny ocean air burned his nostrils. “You were right. He’s working with Paralos now.”
Living on a ship with August and Cerenus—two people who lived for moments where they were proven right—left him unprepared for how to handle the sadness that seemed to overtake her. “So this is how our Circle ends. First I fracture the binds holding us together and then Paralos tears them apart.”
“You were only doing what was right.”
“Paralos sees his actions in the same light, no doubt. In his mind, I am sure he feels he is owed Gemini’s service.” She repositioned her head on his chest until she faced the reflection of stars on the water. “What has August decided to do about this news?”
“About what you’d expect: He tried to take Gemini on alone. Didn’t pan out, but at least we didn’t lose him. He and I haven’t talked about a plan since then, though if I had to guess, I’d say he’s probably not going to have the chance to do much of anything else about Gemini. We’ve been on the run non-stop.”
“More attacks?”
“About the same. We hide, the Ministers find us, then we run again. I wish I had more of an update, but that’s been our life for weeks now.” He cleared his throat. “There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Gemini has changed. I don’t know what happened, but he’s gotten stronger somehow. Barely looks human anymore. If it hadn’t have been for Cerenus, we’d all be dead.”
“He’s evolving,” she said under her breath. “Velawrath must have been more powerful than I thought. Tell me, did he have a glow around him? It would look like a ring from far away.”
“He did.”
“Then he is close.”
“Close to what?”
“Becoming a god.” Meryn didn’t move as a wave came rolling up the beach, kissing her feet. She watched the water run away. “All gods begin the way he has. It’s how we determine those who will be next to join our order. The sphere surrounding Gemini is like a cocoon. Once he gains enough energy, he will shed it, and his metamorphosis will be complete. Until then, he stays within the ring. It’s what gave our order its name. All gods start within the Circle.”
“If he becomes a god, how can we kill him?”
“You won’t be able to. Not as you are.”
“What does that mean?”
Meryn sat up. Her electric eyes searched for his in the darkness. “You must convince August of something.”
Bear scoffed. “I can stop you right there. The only person who convinces August of anything is Aeris, and even she’s having trouble getting through to him lately.”
“You have to try,” she said. “Tell him you need to speak to Tamaril. Relay what you have told me about Paralos and Gemini. Convince him to join our cause.”
“Meryn, he’s already joined Amara. Cerenus told us.”
“Cerenus wants nothing more than to kill Tamaril for the sheer audacity of being his intellectual equal. He is blind when it comes to Tamaril. I am not. The only reason he sides with Amara is out of survival. If you can convince him—”
“Meryn…”
“If you can convince him, you may yet have a chance.”
“He’s gone,” Bear said. “He made his choice.”
“No! John, I won’t hear this. He is all we have left.”
“There’s nothing I can do.”
“You have to try!” A ring of tears blurred the blue light of her eyes. “John, you have to try. I will not lose you.”
The answer he needed to give—the one that said Tamaril was beyond hope—stayed silent in his throat. Instead, he gave a single nod. “Okay. I’ll do the best I can.”
She buried her head in his chest again. Bear held her in his arms. He stroked her hair, unsure of the words to say. He was a man, after all. What comfort could he give a god?
After she’d fallen asleep in his arms, Bear began to feel the sting of impeding reality once again. Saying goodbye meant another long string of days without knowing when they’d see each other again. He fell into a light sleep trying desperately to cling to the present.
His eyes had barely closed when he awoke to the realiz
ation she’d saved him the pain of a goodbye by fading away silently. The warmth of her body was the last to go. The arm he’d used to cradle her fell to his stomach. Above him, a shooting star streaked across the night sky. It burned bright before disappearing into the void.
“I love you,” he said, as though the words might find her some day.
The walk back to the Reventry gave him time to relish his time with Meryn, but also mourn it. As he made his way up the steps leading to the Reventry, he was forced to a halt when he neared the front door.
Cerenus stood beside the entrance eating a piece of fruit. He took a large bite and smiled as he chewed. He might as well have been wearing a sign that said he’d seen the whole thing.
“Hello, John Lawson. Beautiful night for a walk, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER SIX
“My friends,” Amara said as she looked around the banquet table. “May we drink to our good fortune in the days ahead and the life waiting for us all in Ascension. To Pyra.”
“To Pyra,” her guests answered in unison. They joined her in a drink.
Galan sat to her left. Her longtime ally looked to her after his toast, his black eyes streaked by red. She smiled at him to set his nervous mind at ease. There was never a moment where he didn’t worry about being replaced as her confidant by Anemolie. Sitting at his side was Polaris, the leader of his Minister army. The unnatural creature was a machine masquerading as a human—an abomination in the eyes of Pyra—and yet Amara couldn’t argue her value as a warrior. She’d proven herself equal to Paralos’s Vontani champion.
Sitting on Amara’s right was Anemolie. Thin as a Pyrian finger, she held her head high, brimming with the confidence of her conviction. Anemolie’s frequent thoughts of winning Amara’s favor were on full display, a well-worn beacon of servitude.
The door at the back of the dining hall opened. A string of Pyrian workers entered carrying trays of overflowing food. They served the gods first—Amara, then Galan, Anemolie, and finally Tamaril, who sat at the far end of the table. Next they placed trays in front of Polaris, who had no cause to eat the food, and Talus, who greedily took the tray and began tearing at the meat with his teeth. Amara frowned as she scanned his charred skin. It had lost its pearlescent sheen since his fight on Earth, replaced with spots of ashen white and the dull finish of stone. He no longer looked like a champion. He was a spent tool, ready to be discarded.
Unfortunately, he was the only tool she still possessed.
As the Pyrians filed out, one stayed behind to tend to their needs. He kept his unblinking white eyes to the ground as he stood by the door, too scared to make eye contact with the guests. Tamaril canted his head toward the Pyrian like he was afraid the servant would take his food.
“Tamaril,” Amara said. “You look troubled.”
“Your war troubles me.”
In truth, she liked Tamaril more than the sycophantic Galan or the attention-starved Anemolie. He’d shown no capacity to hide his thoughts about Amara’s strategies, or anything else, which was a refreshing change of pace. If the price for his loyalty was putting up with his flares of insubordination, it was a price she was willing to pay.
“Is there anything specific that worries you?”
For the first time, he looked uncomfortable. “I do not wish to sully your celebration.”
“It is only a celebration if we have something to celebrate. I brought you here to listen to your thoughts on this war, Tamaril.”
“All right then.” He tossed a half-eaten piece of fruit on his plate. “Where is Michael? We haven’t seen your champion since the debacle on Earth.”
She expected the question, but she had hoped that Galan or Anemolie would ask it first. Still, the answer was the same, so giving it to the one person who might disapprove made little difference. “Paralos has him.”
Galan and Anemolie exchanged a silent, nervous look. Tamaril hung his head.
“The setback is temporary,” she said in a practiced voice of calm.
“But it is a setback.”
Amara absorbed the comment with a deep breath. “Polaris,” she said, turning to the machine. “Would you and Talus give us a moment alone, please?”
“Of course, my Lady.”
Polaris motioned for Talus to follow. Talus took a final bite of meat before pushing away from the table to fall in behind her.
Once she was sure they were gone, Amara continued. “Paralos is an arrogant fool. If he has convinced Michael to join him, it is because he thinks he is above our rules. He will want to strike quickly and he will want the rest of the Circle as his audience, but first he will need to make Michael more powerful. There are but a few places left in the universe with enough life energy to fuel Michael now. Paralos will not be hard to find.”
Tamaril tapped his finger on the table. “And what will you do if you find him?”
All eyes turned to Amara, waiting to see if she would carry through with the threat promised by their rules. Their worry, she knew, was partially fueled by the knowledge that she would. She greeted their nervous looks with a confident smile. “If Paralos has harmed Michael, or in any way attempted to steal him away, he will be dealt with swiftly. As for Michael, I would give him a chance to explain himself first.”
“What’s to explain?” Tamaril asked. “He is clearly a traitor.”
“He is confused. Without my guidance, he has wandered from the path. I will show him the way back.”
“And if he does not wish to follow?”
“He is my champion,” Amara answered. “What power I give, I can take away again.”
“You worry too much,” Anemolie said to Tamaril. “While Lady Amara brings Michael back into the fold, the rest of us still have this war in control.”
“I have this war under control,” Galan said. “You have done nothing but talk about the day you might enter it.”
“The Tria are ready.”
The Tria. Amara hated any mention of their name. Mordric and his daughters were as much an abomination as Galan’s machines. She paused, reminding herself that the Tria were a means to an end; a powerful weapon to ensure passage to Ascension. She swallowed her disgust.
“The Tria are needed,” she said. “Galan’s forces have yet to do what he’s promised.”
Galan’s voice rose. “My Lady, the Alliance is within my Ministers’ reach. We have tracked them continuously since Earth.”
“Tracking is not killing, Galan. My patience with your search grows thin.”
“We have cornered them on multiple occasions. Polaris assures me that a squad is once again within reach. Soraste’s champion—”
“Is a machine,” Amara said.
“Yes, which means he operates on a programmed pattern of thought. Once we discover this pattern, we can better predict where he will hide Cerenus’s fleet next.”
Tamaril leaned forward, clasping his hands. “Your champions are effective ground warriors, Galan. They were not built to fight Cerenus in space. You are using the wrong tool for the job.”
“And what would you have me do?” Galan asked, his voice snarling. “Ask them to land politely? Talk them to death, as you are sure to do?”
“Send my Tria,” Anemolie offered proudly. “Mordric has discovered a way to pass his command over the Orsix to his offspring. Ellia and Tiale have it coursing through their veins. The things they are capable of…”
“Are unnatural,” Galan said. “My Ministers began as children of Pyra.”
“Much like a piece of waste begins as food. At least my champions do not need to be programmed to serve Pyra.”
“Enough,” Amara said. She glared at Galan until he abandoned his threatening posture. “The Alliance has proven elusive. If the Tria can help put an end to them, so be it.”
“We have yet to see this Tria,” Tamaril said, “nor have we seen any evidence that they are what Anemolie promises.”
Anemolie scoffed. “The Tria are safe on Malathair, awaiting my word to enter this war.
In the meantime, they hone their connection to the Orsix. Even Michael would bow to their power.”
“The Orsix is a child’s myth,” Galan said with a sneer, “born of wishes for magic.”
“It is no myth,” Amara replied. “Neither is the Tria’s power over it.”
“You see, Galan? Mordric and his daughters will put a short end to this conflict and pave our path to Ascension.”
“You’d have me believe these creatures worship Pyra?”
“Their worship is less of a concern to me than their ability to follow orders,” Amara said. “Especially Tiale.”
“Mordric assures me Tiale is under his control,” Anemolie said.
“I will rest assured when I see her follow a command.”
“Tell me where to point this weapon and I will put your fears at ease.”
Amara stood and walked to the window. She felt their eyes on her back as she looked out over the valleys of Pyr. The sparkling peaks gave way to grasslands that stretched to the horizon, dotted sporadically with Pyrian settlements. She wondered if she would miss such sights in Ascension, sights she forged with her own hands. In a way, she thought she wouldn’t. There was a pressure to creation, a responsibility to see the universe filled with lives worth saving in the end. In that, she had failed.
“Lady Amara?”
She startled at the sound of Galan’s voice. After collecting her thoughts, she returned to the table.
“Continue your search,” she said. “Find the Alliance if you believe you can. If that fails, the Tria will take over. If we cannot find Dillon and his companions, then perhaps Anemolie’s champions can lure them out.”
“And what of Tamaril?” Galan asked.
Tamaril’s attention was on the Pyrian guarding the door, as though he’d become bored with the conversation. “Tamaril, you have been quiet on this front.”
It took a moment of hesitation before he seemed to register her words. “My preparations have been made.”
She waited for more. He seemed preoccupied, even more so than usual. She reached out to his mind. Her mental fingers probed his memories, his thoughts, and came up against a wall stopping her from going further. She had a mind to tear through it.