They had arrived on the hill overlooking the Jonian Sea just in time to observe Jonia’s mighty fleet engage the Capital’s forces. A crowd had gathered around them, cheering the fleet on. A few recognised Satori and greeted her jovially. She returned the greetings, then fixed her attention at the small dots in the distance.
The middle of the fleet broke off, to disengage the enemy. “What are they doing?” she asked the marshal.
He produced a battered set of binoculars and stared for a moment. “A ruse, I’m sure. Your father must want to lure them in, so he can pinch them from both sides,” he explained with confidence. “If they take the bait, he will turn back on them, while the rest of our fleet will crush them from all sides. I thank Themis I’m alive to see this!” He chuckled, then raised the lenses back to his head.
After a few moments, his voice rose in excitement. “It worked! The Capital fleet is following them! Any moment now, your father should turn around to face them. Today we end the Capital’s rule once and for all!”
Her heart beat loudly in her chest, as she tried to make out the details of the ongoing battle. She considered asking for the binoculars, then figured her eyesight was a good deal better than the marshal’s. Better let the older man have his day, she decided, a warm smile playing on her lips. Besides, she could now see clearly the breakaway vessels heading their way, and the unfortunate ships pursuing them.
“When are they turning around?” she asked after a few moments, barely able to conceal her excitement. She raised a sweaty palm to shield her eyes.
“Any minute now, my dear. It will be glorious!”
Time passed agonizingly slowly, as the vessels headed towards Jonia’s port. The Capital’s ships broke off their pursuit to attack the remaining fleet from behind. “What is happening?” she asked, confused.
When she received no reply, she glanced at the older man. He was watching with gaping eyes, murmuring to himself. “I don’t understand, they should be… Why are they…”
One by one, Jonia’s great ships burst into flames in the distance, leaving the ones heading their way to enter the safety of Jonia’s port. Satori tried to stop her hands from shaking. “Why did they turn back?” she stammered.
The marshal lowered the binoculars. She noticed tears welling up in his eyes. “What?” she insisted. He said nothing, stumbling towards a tall cypress behind them, then collapsed under its shade and brought his hands to his face. When Satori heard him sobbing like a child, her whole body froze. “No!” she cried out and lunged at him. He made no attempt to stop her furious punches. “No!”
June 307 AL
Chamber of Justice, the Capital
Angel
“You’re coming with us,” a guard snarled and pulled her chains. Angel screamed and wiggled her hands to stop the iron from biting into her flesh.
They had barged into her cell a moment ago; two men she had never seen before. One, a big man, had broad shoulders and hard, callused hands, had placed thick irons around her wrists and ankles, while the other, a slender man with a fox-like look, was eyeing her hungrily.
Xhi now stood behind them, a worried look on his face. “Where are you taking her?” he demanded.
“Her brother wants to see her,” the slender one said. He placed a hand on the big man’s shoulder and extended a hand, waiting for the chains. The man growled in protest, then gave in. The slender man licked his lips and placed a hand under Angel’s chin to look into her face.
“This is no way for a ruler’s sister to behave,” he said in a soft voice. “Why do you have to disobey him?”
She pursed her lips and turned her head away. The man clicked his tongue disapprovingly and yanked the chain. Angel howled in pain, and the two men laughed.
“Well, let’s get moving. Your brother doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
She ran behind them as best as her chains would let her. They took her to her brother’s office and pried the door open. Her eyes were accustomed to the dark, but she could see little inside the room; somehow the blackness inside seemed deeper and colder than even that of her cell.
The big guard pushed her inside and shut the door. An unfamiliar smell filled the room; rotting leaves after a storm, masked by alcohol. She stood trembling in the dark, not knowing what to do next.
“Come closer,” a voice said.
Is that Cyrus? The voice sounded slow and slurred, but there was more to it than that. It sounded old, broken. She took a step forward and banged her ankle on something hard. She yelped as a shot of pain travelled from her ankle upwards, making her shiver. Suddenly, someone lit a candle and the dim light allowed her to see the person behind the big desk. For a moment she did not recognise the timeworn, damaged man with the dishevelled hair sitting behind it, then she realised she was looking at her brother and stifled a cry. Is this my brother? How…? She counted less than a year since their last meeting; how could he have changed so much?
She gasped at his hunched spine, at the curved shoulders that twitched and trembled. Somehow his heads seemed withdrawn into his body, like a turtle. His eyes stared right at her, yet did not seem to be focusing. They were like wet glass, glazed, the gold speckles that used to play within the brown long gone. A thin film covered the bloodshot whites, like the skin of a soft grape. She tried in vain to detect an expression in his vapid, immobile face.
Cyrus motioned her forward with a weary motion. She obeyed and sank on a heavy chair before him. The thick, acidic smell of alcohol filled her nostrils and she drew back. Cyrus chuckled and filled an ornate lead cup with wine, which he gulped immediately. Then, he met her eyes.
The pain she saw inside chilled her. But there was more; for the first time in years, she caught a glimpse of a fire long extinguished. Instead of the usual cruelty, she saw kindness inside; a side of him she had not seen in far too long. For a moment, it was her brother staring at her, not the monster he had become.
“Cyrus?” she whispered and leaned forward, extending a chained hand to touch his face. He took her hand and kissed her. Tears streaked down his unwashed, unshaven face.
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed.
She wanted to run behind the desk and embrace him, but her limbs were weighted down by the heavy chains, so she leaned forward and caressed his face instead, planting her elbows on the table.
“Shh… It’s alright,” she said, trying to smile.
They stood still for a long moment, then he fell back on his chair, still holding her hand. “Is it really?” he asked with a self-conscious grin, looking at her chained hands. She said nothing, so he continued. “You probably wonder why I drink so much, don’t you?”
That was one of many questions, she thought, but hardly the most important one.
“It’s because when I’m drunk, they sleep,” he whispered. “They finally let me be.”
“Who’s they?” she blurted out. Is he losing his mind? What is it about this room that does that to people?
He ignored her question. “I didn’t want to do this to you. Any of it. All I ever wanted was to protect you. To love you. To make sure nothing bad ever happened to you. And look at me now. Look at you.” His eyes watered and he looked away.
“It’s not too late.”
“Then why is it that every time I close my eyes, all I can see is their faces?”
“What faces?”
He shook his head, as if he had not heard her. “Everyone’s there.” He nodded towards a dark corner of the room. “Lehmor. Styx. Even that boy who killed Lehmor is standing right there. He still has that stupid grin on his face, expecting his reward.” A vein throbbed on his forehead as he swore at the empty space. “You’re getting nothing from me! You hear me? Not a thing!”
Angel leaned backwards, taken aback by his explosion of rage.
“They all think I’m a terrible person,” he whimpered. “Do you think I’m a terrible person?”
She gulped, feeling the metal chains digging into her flesh. “No, of course not. You�
��re a good person and a good brother,” she assured him. Sam’s face jumped at her, but she put the thought away. Cyrus had not been able to get him; Sam was safe. She thought her answer was what her brother wanted to hear, but it seemed to crush him. What does he want from me?
“Will you help me?” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.
“Yes, of course. We can still make it alright.”
His face lit up for a moment, then he cackled; a drunken sound that made her shoot back, tearing her hands from his. He turned serious just as abruptly.
“Can we? Yes, I suppose we can. You could help me.”
She crossed her arms. “Yes,” she promised. “I’ll do anything to help you.”
Cyrus opened a drawer and pulled out a gun. “This is what started it all. Croix used it to shoot the emissary, then Lucas. They showed me. They were there, pulling the strings. I must stop them, make things right. But I know they won’t let me. If I don’t, if I can’t, you must promise to kill me.”
She recoiled in terror. “What?” she cried out.
He stood up and staggered towards her. The stench of vomit and alcohol hit her, making her turn her face away. Ignoring her disgust, he opened her palm to place the small gun inside. “Help me,” he said, stressing each word. “Or kill me. Those are your options.”
“I… I’ll help you” she said, holding the weapon as if it were a snake in her hand.
He stumbled back behind his desk and sank heavily into his chair. Filling another cup, he took a large sip and stared thoughtfully at the almost empty jug. “In vino veritas, they say. There’s truth in wine. They have no idea how true that is.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “What?”
He motioned around them. “I see them. I know you don’t. They only come out when they wish.” He looked around and cackled. “Ollie Ollie oxen free” he said in a sing-song voice. She tried to follow his gaze, but the room was swallowed in darkness.
“Red eyes, black scales, withered tentacles. Thick, like tar. Like stinking sludge. They’re everywhere I look. Just like the faces. Sometimes I think they are the faces.” He stared angrily at the darkness. “Well, enough. I’m not your puppet,” he yelled at the empty room, then saw her shocked expression and grimaced. “I know you think I’m nuts. But I’m not. They’re here. Watching. Plotting. They made me do terrible things. Terrible.” He was lost to his thoughts for a moment, then shook his head to give her a confused look. “Where was I?”
“They made you do terrible things,” she said in a detached voice.
“They did, yes. It’s only when I’m drunk that they sleep.” He placed a finger on his mouth and cackled. “Shh… Don’t wake them up now! We can have peace without them. Let’s give Jonia the democracy it craves. Let’s make peace with the West, with the North. With Malekshei...” A deep sigh escaped his lips. “I’ve missed the Marshes…” His voice trailed off for a moment. “And you! Why are you still in chains? Teo defeated Jonia, so let’s get you out of these awful things.”
She gasped at the unexpected gift. “Thank you!” she whispered.
His face looked aged, weathered with more worry than anyone should have to bear in a single lifetime. He sighed and continued, an exhausted air in his voice. “I’ve been blind for so long. But now I see. I can have everything in the world, but someday I’ll die, just like everyone. Then what? Everything I have will go to someone else; others will enjoy my accomplishments. They might be idiots or wise for all I know. But they’ll do the same things I’ve done, and they’ll think they’re so different and special.” He shook his head. “They’re not. Everything they do, I’ve already done. Nothing’s new. I’ve hurt so many people, and for what? At the end of the day, what’s there to be gained? All our struggles and our efforts. All for nothing. I’ve tried so hard to enjoy life. I’ve had more girls than I can remember. I’ve fought the armies of Fallen and the armies of men. And all of it for nothing. You might as well try to catch the wind.”
Burning tears ran down her cheeks. How did this happen? What happened to him?
“The other day someone stole into my quarters and took my crystal while I was sleeping.” He pointed at the recording crystal, hanging around his neck and played with it, turning it on. Once a simple device to record verdicts, it had now become a symbol of the absolute power wielded by the justices. Its soft glow shed some welcome light into the room. “He put it on before my guards arrested him. It turned out he was but a fool; just another crazy bastard in a planet full of them. No one knows how he managed to break into my room, though.”
His voice was now a rasping whisper. She held her breath and leaned forward to hear him. “Of course, I had him killed. We can’t have people doing that sort of thing. So, I’ll understand if it’s my turn now. I’m much worse than him; I know that much.” He raised an eyebrow and touched the weapon in her hand. “When I’m sober, they’ll make me forget all this. If I do, you must promise to punish me for my crimes. I deserve it. I want you… to…” He struggled to continue, then dropped half-unconscious back to his chair. Soon, he was snoring lightly.
She stared at the slow throbs of his jugular for the longest moment, then swallowed hot, salty tears and gaped at the gun in her chained hand.
Chamber of Justice, the Capital
Teo
“Is he inside?”
One of the guards hastened to stand before Cyrus’s door. “He’s with his sister.”
Teo gave him a dark look. “So?” Doesn’t this idiot know who the real ruler of the Capital is? Who won us the war, with a simple ruse? It didn’t matter that Satori had escaped; what mattered was that Paul didn’t know about it.
He chuckled at his own ingenuity as the guard swallowed hard, then moved to the side. “I just thought you should know, sir.”
Teo smirked and pushed the door open. It took his eyes a minute to adjust to the darkness. Why does the boy like the dark so much, he thought, not for the first time. Then a shadow moved and he almost screamed in alarm at the sight of Angel standing before her slumbering brother, a gun in her chained hands.
“What are you doing?” he cried out and lunged at her. She seemed surprised to see him, and he snatched with ease the weapon from her hand.
“Nothing! It’s not what you think,” she protested.
He pointed at Cyrus, still on his chair. “What have you done?” He rushed over, expecting the worst. Unable to see too well in the darkness, he patted him down, his hands failing to feel any blood on Cyrus’s clothes. The prince had passed out, probably from all the wine stinking up the room, but there appeared to be no injuries on his body.
“I swear, he’s fine! He wanted me to kill him, but I couldn’t!” she howled. Then she took a deep breath and continued. “I… I know it’s gonna be alright now. I don’t know how, but he’s freed himself. He’s gonna be my brother again.”
“What are you talking about?” Teo asked. Has everyone in this family lost their minds?
Tears streaked down her cheeks, but her pretty face wore a stubborn look. “He said they made him do all the awful things he has, but now he knew how to beat them. He even said he’ll free me. He’s gonna make peace. Peace with everyone; me, the people, the world.”
Teo broke into a sweat. “He what?” A pang of pain shot through his head, but he ignored it. A plan popped into his head and his mind raced. What if I’d come in a minute later? If he hadn’t told her all that crap? She did have a gun in her hand. She could be covered in his blood by the time I entered. He could be on that chair, his head blown to bits, blood everywhere. The image made him swallow hard.
She gave him an excited look. “Peace! The world will be at peace!”
He looked at her bug-eyed. This is a golden opportunity, a voice whispered in his head. No, it’s more than that: it’s your destiny. Embrace it! He would never have another chance like this, he realized, and reached an abrupt decision.
Wearing a mask of relief, he approached her. “That’s wonderful! I�
��m so sorry for the way he treated you. I tried to stop him, you know.” He took her in his arms. She recoiled, then allowed him to hold her for a moment, stroking her back gently. “I’m so sorry for everything,” he repeated while working out the details of his plan. “Let’s go remove those awful things, alright?” he said in the end, pointing at her wrists.
She nodded in agreement and lifted a chained hand to dry her eyes. “Thank you,” she said.
He pushed her gently in front of him and limped to the door. They exited the room together. As soon as he closed the door behind them, the sweetness melted away from his face.
“She shot the prince,” he cried out, shoving her towards the stunned guards. “On your watch,” he continued. The colour left their faces. “Take her to her cell and call for the doctor! Have him prepare the medical bay. We must save him!”
The guards exchanged a confused look.
“What? No! He’s alive!” she protested.
“Go!” The guards stared at him in hesitation. “Now!” he barked.
“Yes, sir!” Angel’s screams of protest snapped the guards out of their shock. One grabbed her and pushed her away, while the other ran off to fetch the doctor. “No!” she shrieked. “Don’t let him do this! I haven’t done anything! Stop him! Stop him!”
Her voice faded in the distance and Teo stared at the empty corridor for a moment before opening the door to step back into the dark room.
Malekshei
Moirah
Sleep had only come to her in the early morning; an uneasy slumber filled with troubled dreams. She had finally drifted asleep when the first horn sounded, faint as mist. In her lethargic state, its plaintive warning only caused her to shift her weight on the bed.
The second horn sounded closer, annoying her, making her groan. When it was joined by a third one, louder still, her hand patted the empty space next to her. Where is Lehmor? She flew out of bed to fling the shutters open. Outside, illuminated only by the dim light of torches, people dashed about. More and more horns sounded now, until the air around her echoed with their raw energy and a bell started ringing urgently.
Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series Page 55