by T. C. Edge
I move towards him, closing the short space towards us. My voice softens as I speak. "Worried about what?"
He sighs, eyes staring down. "That they'll take you in when we get there. That you'll just become one of them. That...that I'll never see you again."
"Jude..." I move in and hug him under the watchful gaze of the Fire-Blood statue. "That won't happen. I'd never stay there."
"Maybe you wouldn't want to. Maybe they'd make you."
"No, I'm getting Lilly and we're going home. That's what's happening. Nothing else."
His eyes rise up, and then look away. It's so obvious that he doesn't believe what I'm saying, doesn't think it's possible. But he won't say it, he won't deny me, he won't draw away what I know is nothing but foolish optimism. Optimism that borders on idiocy, even lunacy, at the task ahead.
"OK," is all he says. "But just promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"If something happens to me, don't put yourself in danger coming after me. I signed up for this willingly, Amber. Don't feel guilty if things don't go to plan. Don't think you'd have anything to make up."
"I...
I can't make that promise.
"Promise me, Amber," he says once more. "We have no idea what's going to happen. I need to know that you'll be safe, even if I'm not."
His eyes continue to intensify, demanding that I agree. I draw a hand behind my back and cross my fingers tight.
"I...promise," I whisper.
He nods firmly and begins to move off again, walking right past the statue. I watch him go for a moment before continuing on after him. And suddenly, a sense of terrible foreboding surges through me. A deepening feeling that I've just ruined the life of my best friend in the world, and the boy I might very well love.
A boy who, evidently, is fearing for his life.
And all because of me.
14
With light fading on the third day of our trek, we happen upon a rare thicket of dead and dying vegetation out on the Sacred Plains.
So far, finding anything living out here, whether bird, beast, or any type of plantlife, has been few and far between. We've seen the occasional eagle floating in the sky, suggesting the presence of prey below. We've seen snippets of that prey, the odd lizard scurrying through the rocks, or snake hissing from beneath a stone. And sometimes, we've spotted a bush or little area of shrubbery, their leaves and spines dry and parched, the unusual mist not appearing to provide them with the moisture they need to reinvigorate them.
But this particular patch of vegetation is a little more substantial than the rest, a veritable godsend as the darkness closes in and a bitter chill comes with it. It provides us with the means to gather kindling and start a fire, the flames providing some much needed warmth amid the cool, haunting fog.
Unfurling our mats, we take position near the flames and allow them to do their work, warming us up as we sit there, cross-legged, munching on a dinner of dried fish and fruit. To my relief, Jude has returned to his usual, jovial self, his smirk rising as he looks at the fire, and then suggests that I intensify the blaze using my 'awesome powers'.
I roll my eyes, but in a good way.
"Oh, come on Goldie, just point your fingers and have a go. I can't be bothered to gather more wood."
I laugh and play along, holding out my palms, putting on a serious expression, and attempting to enlarge the flames using my nascent Fire-Blood abilities. Of course, nothing happens, which in some odd way disappoints me. Still playing along, I secretly actually 'try' to do what I'm only pretending to do. Again, nothing happens.
I lift a wry smile, hiding my disappointment, and draw my palms back down.
"OK, you failed," he says. "That means you're gathering the wood."
I imagine that that's only fair, given what I've put him through so far. I stand and head into the gloom nearby, the firelight creating eerie shapes in the fog as tangled bushes and small trees come into view. I've only been gathering dry, broken branches for a moment when I hear a crack, turn, and find Jude doing the same off to the side, hunting for twigs and kindling nearby in the mist.
I sigh deeply, smiling as I see him.
If I ever meet a more kind-hearted, good natured person in my life, I'll be extremely surprised. Grace has done a wonderful job imparting her own caring and kindly nature on him, this boy who clearly cares so much more about others than he does himself.
He catches me looking at him, and grins, shaking his head. "Come on Goldie," he calls. "Get gathering. The fire won't feed itself."
I laugh once more and continue to collect an armful of suitable firewood, before returning to our little camp and piling on what I've found, the flames quickly gorging on the meal and glowing more bright and warm. I look at those violent, orange swirls in a different way now as Jude returns and sets down his stack, feeling a strange affinity to them. Once, they were something to fear, to never get too close to. Now I wonder what will happen if I step right in, or lie down atop them, my clothes burning away but my body and flesh remaining unharmed.
An impulse takes me, and I step towards it. I notice Jude lean forward as if preparing to stop me and pull me back. He hesitates, remembering what I am, what I can do. Interested, perhaps, to see what happens.
I feel the warmth intensify as I get closer, though the change is only subtle. I reach out with my arm, pulling up the sleeve of my shirt, my fingers reaching into the blaze. I hold them above the orange flames, darting at my flesh like the tongues of angry serpents. Each time the fiery tendrils touch my skin, I feel nothing but a warm, tickling sensation.
I begin to lower my hand right into the blaze, the heat having no impact on me at all. Soon my entire hand and wrist are engulfed within the crackling fire, my fingers teasing at the glowing embers, picking them up, turning them around between my fingers. I draw one out, and lightly press it to other exposed parts of me; my lower legs, my abdomen, my neck and cheek. I feel only warmth and nothing more, as if holding a stone warmed in the sun.
The burning ember soon fades and cools, and I toss it back into the fire. I reach for a fresh one, keen to experiment further. With a little more caution, I open my mouth and tease the glowing orange ember along my lips, leaving behind only a residue of black ash. I stick out my tongue and touch it to the wood as well. It withdraws back into my mouth, unharmed and tasting only of soot.
I get bored eventually, moving back to sit down, my hands blackened by the ash. I wipe them down on a spare piece of clothing, not wanting to waste any water.
"What does it feel like?" Jude asks, sitting there beside me. "Does it hurt at all?"
I shake my head. "It's just...kinda nice, actually. Warm, like the sun on a hot day."
"I wonder if there's a limit," Jude goes on. "Like, let's say someone poured molten metal on you. Surely that would burn you?"
"I'd rather not find out, to be honest," I say. "But that brand didn't even leave a mark, so who knows."
"Do you reckon it's just fire?" It seems Jude has plenty of questions. "As in, do you think your skin and flesh is invulnerable to other things, other stresses?"
"Like what? If someone tried to cut me or something?"
He nods. "Sure."
"I've been cut before, so I'm thinking it's just fire."
"But maybe you can develop something to protect you once you learn to control it. A fire force field or something. A fire-field," he finishes, smiling at himself, evidently feeling rather proud of thinking it up.
Again, I shrug. "You know as much as I do," I say. "Three days ago I didn't even know I was like this. I'm not sure I'd even heard of Fire-Bloods before."
"Well, perhaps they're more rare than you think," he says, voice growing less enthused. "What are you actually thinking of doing when we get there?"
"Olympus?"
"Yeah."
"Um...I don't know. Knock on the door and ask for Lilly back?"
He lifts a rather unimpressed brow. "That's it? That's your big plan."
>
"Well, I don't think I ever said I had a big plan." I see his expression sour further. This is hardly what he wanted to hear, and it's fairly clear that he hasn't really pressed me on the subject until this point because, well, he probably feared this sort of vague, unsatisfactory response.
I turn more serious as a result, trying to come up with something a little more encouraging. Really, it's hard to figure anything specific when you've never even seen the city you're trying to get to, and don't know anyone who has. Well, except for grandma, of course, who really should have been consulted before I rushed off on this foolish errand.
"I'm hoping," I say, firming my voice, "that I'll be taken seriously given my blood. If they claim that all these powers are divine, then how can they deny me? I'll prove what I am and then they'll have to listen."
"Right. And, listen to what? What are you planning to say?"
"That my sister belongs with me back home," I say immediately, refusing to hear how ridiculous that sounds.
"But she's always wanted to be found worthy, Amber," Jude says, his chestnut eyes dancing with firelight, soft and warm, though questioning. "Do we even have a right to try to take her away? This is her dream."
"A dream based on a lie," I grumble, sticking to my common argument.
"A lie that the entire Fringe believes," Jude counters. "People don't seem that unhappy with their lives, you know. I don't see that it's so bad the way we live. Maybe it's better to believe the lie, live the lie, rather than find out the truth."
"I don't believe that," I say, shaking my head. "I didn't know you did either."
"I don't. Not really. But I also don't see much of an alternative. You and Alberta are hardly vocal about what you know, because you're aware that it'll only get you in trouble. It's not like anyone's trying to change things, or challenge the Prime and Olympus..."
"Of course not, that would only get us killed."
"Then why are we here?" Jude says, his voice growing a little louder. He sighs and shakes his head. "Don't get me wrong, I'm here willingly, like I said, and I understand where you're coming from, but I don't really think we're going to win this fight, Amber. I think we have much more to lose than gain."
"So, you want to turn back, is that what you're saying?"
"No. Maybe. I...I don't know." He sighs again, picks up a stick, and tosses it into the fire. "I just don't think that Lilly will want to go back with us, even if we're allowed to take her. She chose this life. She wants this life. Aside from just kidnapping her, I don't see what we can do."
A silence falls, the full extent of Jude's feelings finally pouring forth, as if the cracks in the dam have opened to fissures, his true thoughts on all this flowing freely. It's like the closer we're getting to our final destination, the more real this is all becoming.
And worst of all, I know he's right.
"This is stupid, isn't it," I say eventually, staring right at the fire, disconsolate. "You're right. Lilly isn't going to want to come back, even if they let her." I turn to Jude, my eyes wetting with a sheen of tears. "I don't want to put you in danger anymore. Things..." I shake my head, sniffing. "Things haven't gone to plan. I...I guess I never had a plan. I wasn't thinking, Jude, and then everything just happened. Maybe we should go back and forget it. I should just accept that Lilly is doing what she's always wanted, however I feel about that."
I feel Jude shuffle closer to me as I speak, laying his arm around my back. He holds me tight in front of the fire, the orange flames glowing amid the dark, misty night. For a moment, he just clings to me, before eventually speaking in soft tones.
"We've come this far," he whispers, "and so we might as well go on." I look up to find him smiling. He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. "Look, we can decide when we get there, OK? I've always wanted to see the city, and we've already been through a lot to get here. Let's just take it as it comes, and not think too much about what might happen." He turns his eyes in a northernly direction, voice turning pensive. "There are forces at play here that, perhaps, neither of us understand. I think our path takes us onwards, whatever the result. We have to trust that now, Amber. We have to keep the faith."
His words resonate with me, bringing to mind Ceres's reaction after he tried to brand me several days back. Maybe my path is already set. Maybe this is already written, this journey of ours a part of something bigger. That thought, though scary, helps give me some hope.
He's right, I think. We have to go on and see how this plays out. If we go back now, I'll regret it forever.
We sit for a little longer, turning back to our thoughts, the quiet broken only by the crackling of the fire. I lay my head against Jude's chest once more, and listen to the steady, beating pace of his heart. It's a peaceful soundtrack that helps relax me, drawing my eyes shut as I begin to drift away...
Then, suddenly, his pulse quickens.
His body jolts up a little, forcing me to snap my eyes back open. I look right up into his face and see his brow furrowing, narrow glare searching off to the southeast beyond the little thicket of bushes and dying trees lit by the orange flames.
"Are you OK?" I ask, my voice catching. I can't tell whether I fell asleep, or how long for if I did.
He continues to stare out, voice a whisper. "I thought I heard something," he says. His eyes turn to the fire, a beacon in the night. Obscured by the mist, yes, but still visible to anyone drawing near.
"You think someone's out there?" I ask, my voice tightening. I scan the scene, and listen intently. "I can't hear anything."
He doesn't answer for a moment, and I don't dare distract him. Living as a hunter, Jude's senses have become more attuned, his hearing more sensitive than my own. I watch his face as he listens, his expression tense and unchanging.
And then, suddenly, his eyes widen.
A rush of noise erupts in my ears, a bizarre sweeping sound like a sudden, ferocious wind flooding right toward me. I turn again, following Jude's gaze, and see several men hurtling through the mist, the fog parting as they speed their way toward our position. I have no time to react, such is their frightening speed, the green-uniformed soldiers materialising before us within a split second.
Immediately, I feel my arms being grabbed, my body pulled to a standing position. Jude suffers the same treatment, both of us hauled unceremoniously to our feet, wrists pulled behind our backs and swiftly tied up with thick, rough rope. It happens in the blink of an eye, my heart thumping wildly in my chest as I frantically look around me in a panic, fearing for my life and, more to the point, Jude's.
More soldiers appear, moving at regular speed. They step through the mist, several dozen of them gathering, a few hulking beasts among them standing well over seven, maybe eight, feet tall. I marvel at those brutish figures, imagining the strength they possess, their heavy stamp sufficient to cause the ground to tremble, as though the earth itself is intimidated by their presence.
Within seconds only, we're surrounded by the troop, looming close and lit by firelight, eyes dark and faces grim. Several dozen men of wondrous ability and power, remnants of an ancient people born for war and destruction.
"We're traders, just traders," Jude says, his voice a little shaky, eyes dashing around as he searches for their leader. I turn to see that his expression has paled with the sudden intrusion, the remarkable, otherworldly speed at which it all occurred. "We got lost in the fog," he says. "We're heading for Horton Outpost. We don't mean any harm."
He bows his head in submission, showing deference. The foot-soldiers from Olympus - considered lowly gods across the Fringe, but gods nonetheless - don't react or respond. They just stand there looking at us for a moment, before beginning to part along one side. A narrow channel opens up between them, and a final figure begins stepping through the gap.
Dressed in a black uniform that clings tight to his heavily muscled physique, comes a man of thick proportions and grim, intimidating facade. Though not as large as the few enormous soldiers among his troop, he still st
ands much taller than most of the others, approaching seven feet in height in his heavy black boots and with square shoulders of almost equal width.
I take in his form, almost too frightened to look into his eyes, glancing as I try to keep my head low. When I draw the courage to look upon his surly gaze I see irises of dark grey staring back, locked deep within a heavily scarred face, with one particularly prominent wound, jagged and craggy, passing vertically through his right eye. He looks a man who's seen much war in his time, his face a storybook of the battles he's endured.
Yet it's not his appearance that staggers me most, but the aura he brings with him. I sense a profound strength emanating from him, something primal and, though I'm loathe to even think it, almost divine. A godlike sense of power and authority that I've never quite felt before.
Slowly, he moves up to us, swaying his gaze from me to Jude, and back again. I turn to my friend and see something in his eyes, recognition, maybe, of just who this man is. A figure, perhaps, of great importance in Olympus, the sort who'd be sighted across the Fringe, and perpetuate the belief that these people are, in fact, so much more than mortal men.
For what seems like an unbearable amount of time, he merely looks upon us, regarding us with a cold expression that's not exactly hard to read. Glancing at him only, I find myself unable to meet his gaze for long, his deep, impenetrable eyes showing such control, such authority, as he ponders what to do with us. It seems to me that he might just order us cut down right here for trespassing on these sacred lands, given his detached, brooding, and entirely unnerving facade.
Eventually, as the frigid silence becomes too much, words crack like thunder from within his barrel chest. That voice, deep and suitably weighty, is a perfect match for his appearance. Through the misty night it booms, all but shaking the quiet apart and causing a shudder to run straight up my spine, my limbs tingling as his words permeate me.
"So, you're headed for Horton Outpost," he rumbles, eyes swaying between us. "That's a long way from here, children."