by Peter Newman
‘Okay,’ he says.
‘Okay,’ she echoes.
Neither sleep. Something bugs Vesper, a piece of grit she can’t quite bring into focus until: ‘You mentioned Samael not fitting in. Does he want to leave too?’
‘He does but he won’t. It’s the oath he swore to you, he feels bound by it.’
‘I’ll free him. He can make his own choice, like we have.’
They fall to silence again, but later that night, his hand finds hers, and this time it stays.
One by one the delegations leave. Each goes well, offering positive words and warm thanks to Vesper. All invite her to visit and say how much they are looking forward to the next gathering. Most of them mean it.
Savmir, the ratbred prince, gives her one of his rings, a band of tin, worn thin as a well-sucked lozenge. It is the spoils of his first trade, made as a youth. ‘You share my bright future!’ he exclaims.
West Rails leave her one of their knives, a very practical badge of brotherhood.
From Verdigris, she is met by Ezze and the Usurperkin twins, Max and Maxi. They make a gift of the city’s flag, bearing the defiant arm of Tough Call. ‘You will be seeing Ezze again soon, yes?’
‘I’m sure I will,’ she replies.
‘This is good! We will meet as friends and eat as heroes!’ The merchant slaps his belly, then adds in a more conspiratorial tone, ‘And Ezze trusts there are none of the hard feelings with your father?’
Vesper simply smiles at him. ‘I’m glad that you’ve been so supportive in the discussions. To be honest I’d expected you to side with Wonderland more often.’
‘Opportunity is always good but monopoly always bad, unless it belongs to Ezze! And you are the favourite of our once-great lady. Tough Call may be gone but Verdigris remembers her. And Verdigris has lots of angry green-faced marshals so Ezze is forced to remember too!’ With a last wink, the new leader of Verdigris goes on his way.
The remnants of the Thousand Nails come to pay their respects as well. Each shows her a new scar or injury as they pass. Flat Head comes last and points to a puckered circle of skin on her leg. ‘Named her Vesper,’ she says proudly, ‘after you!’
Vesper thinks for a moment before pointing to a dark line in the silver of her chest. ‘I think I’ll call this one “Flat Head”.’
Flat Head winces as she stands straight, straining scar tissue. ‘Yes!’ she roars, and squeezes Vesper’s arm.
Even a Usurperkin’s strength is not enough to cause Vesper discomfort any more. She takes Flat Head’s arm and squeezes back, arranging her fingers around the bruises.
Soon, she is alone again, waiting for the infernals of New Horizon. Samael comes to join her, the two standing in easy silence together.
Flies begin to gather, forming a curtain around Vesper and Samael. The Man-shape steps through them, turning his back in order to speak.
‘If you want,’ says Vesper, ‘you can turn round. We’re hardly going to judge you on your appearance.’
The Man-shape’s jaw distends into position with a click. ‘Are you curious about my face?’
‘No. Well, yes, a little. But what I mean is that I accept you as you are, as a friend.’
‘That is meant as a kind gesture. I will not take you up on it. You see, I am proud of my vanity. It brings me closer to your kind.’
‘Oh. I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
‘It pleases me to think that I was able to teach you something about humanity, but perhaps it is not such a surprise. After all, it is your uniqueness that we value, rather than your ability to fit in.’
‘These days you fit in a lot more easily than I do, Man-shape.’
His reply is not without smugness. ‘Yes. Yes that is true.’
‘Thank you for coming here. This would have been an empty project without you.’
‘I am glad to hear that you are well disposed towards me, and that, perhaps, you hint at feeling somehow indebted.’
Vesper braces herself. ‘Why is that?’
‘Because I desire something: When you go north, I wish to go with you.’
At her side, an eye narrows. ‘You want to come to the Shining City?’
‘Yes. This is the furthest I have travelled since my arrival in your world. It has ignited a curiosity in me. I do not know how far your sky will allow me to go, but I wish to test my boundaries.
‘As we are friends, I will do you the courtesy of being honest. The south is not safe for me any longer. Now that the First is restored, it is without doubt the strongest. If I stay, it will dominate me and force me to serve again. Sadly, I have gained a taste for command and cannot go back easily.’
‘And Wonderland can’t cross the sea.’
‘Yes.’
‘What about the other infernals? Will they go back to New Horizon?’
‘No. They are mine. If I leave them here they will become the First’s.’
‘Wait, you’re talking about a mass infernal exodus?’
‘Yes. I fear the Malice does not approve.’
A narrowed eye has become a slit. Vesper glares at it. ‘The Malice should know better by now.’ She thinks for a moment, then nods. ‘I’ll give one of the island colonies over to you. A gift. Your infernals can live there safely while you travel further north. I doubt they’ll be able to come as far as you anyway.’
‘This is agreeable. I am going to stop talking now so that we may face each other and touch to show mutual appre-ciation.’
Vesper laughs. ‘Yes.’
They do and it is strange. The Man-shape can feel its destruction close at hand, and yet it is safe. Vesper knows this, treasuring the courage and trust it takes to bring them in such close proximity. ‘Go well, my friend,’ she says. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
But the Man-shape does not leave straight away, going to Samael. The two touch heads, intimate, and Vesper turns away to give them privacy.
After the Man-shape and the flies have gone, she turns to Samael.
‘I hear you no longer wish to be a Seraph Knight.’ The sword shows her the half-breed’s consternation, a swirl of shame, anger, and sadness overwhelming. Immediately, she regrets her words.
‘No,’ he rasps. ‘I do wish to be a knight. I will always wish it, but I must face reality. I am not of the Seraph nor will I ever be. I have tried to honour that part of my heritage but, when it was tested, when I faced true knights, my swords were found wanting, as was I.’
Vesper watches the buck chasing the doe across the top of the valley. ‘I think in the end, we have to go where our hearts tell us. We have to be true to ourselves. If you want to go to Wonderland, I’ll let you. I’ll make it clear that I have released you from your oath to me.’
‘I … Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t finished. Do you remember when we first met?’ Samael nods. ‘You were with Jem and he said you were a knight, and when Duet scoffed at the idea, he said you were more of a knight than any other he’d met. You see, being a Seraph Knight is about more than having a singing sword or the right armour. It is about serving the Empire and protecting its people above all else.’ She sighs. ‘I’m going to set you free in public but in private I am holding you to the oath you swore. I don’t trust the First or Neer, and I want eyes close to them. You will be those eyes, Samael. You will be my knight that nobody can see. You will watch them, and you will watch Jem and Reela for me, be there for them where I can’t. Do you understand?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. You can’t stop being a knight any more than I can stop trying to change things. It’s what we are.’
‘Yes,’ Samael trails off as the delegation from Slake approaches. It it markedly smaller than when it arrived, though those that remain are laden with new wealth. Gorad and Gut-pumper come to a stop in front of Vesper, planting their canes in the ground between them.
‘Gut-pumper and I have come to say farewell.’
‘Gorad would never say this—’ begins Gut-pumper.
‘Don’t!’ interrupts Gorad.
‘—But she’s actually quite fond of you.’
‘I said, “don’t”!’
Gut-pumper holds up a hand, curving it around his mouth as he adds, ‘Says you’re spunky.’
Gorad grips the top of her cane tightly. ‘Whereas Gut-pumper doesn’t like you at all.’
‘Can’t stand her,’ he agrees.
‘Too pious, he says.’
Gut-pumper nods. ‘Full of shit.’
‘Yes, he thinks you’re doomed to fail but I don’t agree.’
Gut-pumper gives an apologetic bow. ‘Like the new look though.’
‘Indeed,’ agrees Gorad, ‘suits you.’
‘Well,’ remarks Vesper after they have gone. ‘I’m glad that’s over.’
The once great army of the Empire sit in rows, their hands and feet bound, stripped of weapons and purpose. Hopeless, they wait, accepting food when given, talking little. A few have bruises, too fresh to have come from the fighting. A few more shiver, gripped by illness, struggling to stay in formation. But even in defeat, when all is lost to them, they remain mostly tidy.
The Knight Commander stares at the floor, the suns barely felt on the back of his head. Two shadows are made, and a third, much weaker, to the side. He cannot take his eyes off it.
Slowly, the shadows move, so slowly. His thoughts move slower still, unable to comprehend how it has come to this.
A boot interrupts them, appearing on the edge of his vision, quickly joined by another. The Knight Commander looks up to see the three suns reflected, dazzling, on a silver face. On instinct, he and the other soldiers lower their heads, deferent.
‘No,’ says Vesper, the word lashing out like a hand at their throats, holding them mid-motion. ‘The time for burying your heads is over. Look up. Look at me.’
And they do.
‘You, all of you, came here to fight in the Empire’s name. You were willing to die for the Winged Eye. Such a death would be given glory by the Empire, and songs would be sung that would echo down the generations.’ She looks at them all, and the Knight Commander feels suddenly smaller. ‘You are all victims. Not because you lost but because you fought at all. This battle did not need to happen. Every drop of blood spilled was unnecessary, every life lost, a tragedy.
‘I am told that many of the colonies have been utterly destroyed, that the death toll is massive. You were the tools used to make that atrocity happen. They lied to you, tricked you, turned you into murderers.
‘Alpha has done more damage to the Empire than the Usurper ever did! Look up at the sky, does it look glorious to you?’ She shakes her head. ‘Does a single one of you think that you did right by coming here?’
There is silence.
‘Liars! I see through you. You are thinking that you did the work of The Seven and that you did your duty. But Alpha was wrong. He was wrong! And The Seven were wrong too. They have brought nothing but misery and death because They were too afraid to face up to what They had allowed to happen.
‘They are facing up to it now.’
The Knight Commander’s throat is dry. He does not want to look at Vesper any more. He does not want to think. But he, like the others, is snared, a fish on a barbed hook.
‘The Empire promised to give your deaths meaning. I do not. I intend to give your lives meaning. You will never wash the guilt from your souls or the blood from your hands. The Empire will never be free of shame in your lifetimes. But you will spend every remaining second you have trying to cleanse its name anyway, to prove that you are better than the roles the Empire forced on you.’
She points up at the sky until they all look, puzzled. ‘Do you know what this means? I’ll tell you. It means storms and shifts in the balance. It means buildings will fall, fields will flood and roads become unusable. It means areas will be cut off from the mainland. It means whole harvests will be wiped out and people will starve.’
Her finger descends to point at them. ‘You are going to help those people in any way you can. You will take them supplies and food, you will rebuild what you have broken. They will hate you all the same, but you will take their hate as fair due and get on with your tasks. And when you are called home, you will be able to hold your heads high, and come home to the Shining City to teach others what you have learned, and train a new generation to take over the work.
‘You will not die heroes. You will live with your eyes open and you will take responsibility for who you are and what you have done.’ She gives an order, and others come among them, setting them free.
‘Now eat, you’re going to need your strength.’
To the Knight Commander’s surprise, Vesper does not leave, she sits down, opposite him.
He hears the clink of cuffs being removed, and bindings being loosened, he hears the thudding of his own heart, louder.
‘I understand your wrists haven’t healed yet.’
It takes him a moment to stammer a reply. ‘No.’
‘Then let me help you. You’ve lost weight, and you didn’t have much excess in the first place.’
Like a baby in shock, his mouth falls open, and she spoons in a doughy compound, purple, that tastes mainly of sugar. Dutifully, he chews and swallows.
When she is finished she sits back and regards him. ‘You’ve still never told me your name, Knight Commander.’
It takes a while for him to understand what she is saying, and another few moments before he can answer. ‘Torran,’ he manages finally. ‘My name is Torran.’
Sunslight shines through plasglass, highlighting a sleepy form, bandaged and bedridden.
The Vagrant yawns and brings his left hand to his face. The swelling has gone down, bruises fading to watercolour marks. He lifts his right hand and flexes the fingers slowly. They respond without pain or discomfort. A coating of shiny black covers them, a replacement skin, synthetic. It extends from fingertips to forearm, following the lines of his injuries, faithful, the longest streak running almost to his elbow.
He has seen this substance before. It was used on the commander of the Knights of Jade and Ash over two decades ago, restoring the infernal so that he could continue his hunt for the Malice.
A flurry of memories present themselves, unwanted.
The Vagrant lowers his hand and lets out a long sigh.
Amber eyes soon droop again, his head turning slightly from the light.
He wakes to the sound of footsteps in the corridor, and hushed voices.
‘Are you ready?’ Vesper’s voice.
‘Yes.’ Jem’s voice. ‘Now, don’t make a scene, Reela. You don’t want to upset your grandfather.’
The Vagrant frowns.
‘Nooooo! Don’t wanna go!’
There is a succession of hissed voices and then the door opens.
Vesper, Jem and Reela step inside, pausing as they see the Vagrant. ‘He’s asleep,’ whispers Jem.
Vesper looks over her father. ‘Apparently,’ she mutters.
‘Maybe we should come back another time.’
‘No, the transports are prepping to go. It has to be now.’
Jem looks dubious and begins to pull Reela back out of the room. ‘He looks terrible. We don’t want to put him under any more strain. You can tell him when he recovers.’
‘I wake him!’ declares Reela, slipping free. ‘I’m best at wakings!’
Vesper and Jem’s voices merge behind her as she skips across the room. ‘Wait!’
‘Be gentle at least,’ adds Vesper as Reela takes the Vagrant’s arm in both of her hands and shakes it back and forth.
The Vagrant opens his eyes, looks at Reela, then quickly squeezes them shut again.
Reela gasps and shakes his arm like a cat shaking a mouse. ‘Wake up!’ she shouts, thrilled. ‘Wake up!’
Jem looks at Vesper and folds his arms.
After a while the Vagrant makes a show of yawning and stretching, then adopts an expression of happy surprise.
‘Hello!�
� says Reela.
He gives her a tired wave and she leans back from him, eyes wide. ‘Creepy hand!’ she exclaims.
The Vagrant turns to look at it, then makes it into a claw and moves it towards her, darting in to tickle.
Reela squeals until he stops, then immediately demands more.
Jem has to clear his throat three times before the Vagrant takes notice. ‘Vesper, you need to tell him.’
Amber eyes turn to her, challenging.
‘I’m leaving for the Shining City. Jem isn’t. He and Samael are going to live on Wonderland.’ She pauses. ‘And we’ve decided that it’s best if Reela goes with them. I know this is a lot to throw on you but I need to ask where you want to go.’
Jem fails to hide his surprise. ‘I thought you needed him to go with you?’
‘Lots of people need him but we all have to make our own choices, for ourselves. You showed me that.’ She turns back to the Vagrant. ‘So, where’s it to be?’
There is a long pause. Reela clasps her hands together and adopts a pleading expression. Jem keeps his face carefully neutral, while Vesper looks profoundly sad.
The Vagrant looks at Reela, then Vesper, then at his hand, as if searching for an answer hidden in the black ocean of his palm.
He looks up, lips pressed together, and points at Vesper.
Jem nods to himself, relieved.
‘Thank you,’ mouths Vesper.
Reela’s face falls.
The Vagrant’s finger moves to point at her, then up to Jem. Then he repeats the gesture, faster, pointing: Vesper, Reela, Jem, before resting his hand on his chest.
‘Together!’ says Reela.
The Vagrant nods.
‘I’m sorry,’ says Vesper, ‘but we can’t. I wish we could but I have to go back north and attend to the Empire. Jem has his own life to lead, and we need to think of Reela’s future too. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.’
The Vagrant turns his head away from her, looking at Reela. He reaches for her hand but Jem is faster, pulling her back. ‘I knew this was a mistake.’ He glares at the Vagrant, then walks out, dragging Reela behind him.