Alexander lifted his chin. “Funny.” He leaned closer. “Since you told me something about you, I should reciprocate. My name is Alexander du Duc de Berry.”
David’s eyes widened. “You’re related to the former Justice?”
“Justice Augustine du Duc de Berry. My aunt.” He spoke the name with reverence, his features softening for a fleeting moment. “Murdered by Styx, who took her place.” Alexander’s face hardened again. Spittle flew from his lips. “You call Cyrus my ruler? That usurper shall never rule me,” he shouted, his voice shrill with fury. “My family has ruled for millennia, both on Earth and on Pearseus. Your soldier boy, Cyrus, has no more right to rule than does that Anthean reject, Teo.” His fists balled as he took a step closer. “Themis will rule Pearseus. Not because I want to. Not because it’s in my blood, my right, my destiny.” He pressed his palm against his chest. “But because that’s Her will,” he said with a calmer voice. “Her servants have told me as much.” He jabbed David’s chest. “As for you, David Rivera, you’re nothing but the descendant of a heathen crew member. A servant of my family. And the servants of Themis have warned me that you know far more than you’re telling me.” He flashed an evil grin. “Not for long, though. We are leaving this place as soon as Themis’ judgment has been passed.”
“Priest, you have—” He screamed in pain as Alexander punched him repeatedly in his ribs.
“You never learn, do you? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to stop those idiots from crucifying their so-called rightful ruler.” He faced the writhing man and took a mock bow. “I shall see you and your friend at the Capital. We can resume this conversation there.”
March 20, The Valley
Cyrus
“How many times have you ridden on a hovercar, my Lord?”
‘My Lord’. Is he mocking me? Cyrus stopped looking out the window of the spacious vehicle and met Alexander’s stare. The constant sneer on the priest’s face told him that, yes, the title was in all likelihood a private joke. At his expense. He grimaced. He had never liked the strange vehicle, the memories of his first ride as a boy, being taken prisoner by Styx, never quite fading from his mind. “I’m surprised Teo lets you use it. Tie never did.”
“My predecessor had no sense of the high place the Head Priest has in society,” the priest said in his deliberate tone. “Mercifully, things have changed since your rule.”
“If you know who I am, then you must take me back to the Capital.”
“That is what I am doing.”
“As your prisoner?” Cyrus asked with a low growl.
A flinch issued from the priest’s shoulder. “It does not have to be that way.”
A mocking sparkle in his eyes caught Cyrus’s attention. He closed his eyes for a moment. In his mind, there were no irons on his hands, and he was wiping the sneer from the man’s face with his fists. The thought almost made his lips crack in a smile. “Is that right?”
Alexander looked out the window. He ran his fingers over the seat, caressing the soft leather. “Personally, I think your rule was a disgrace.”
Hurt pride brought heat to Cyrus’s cheeks. “Winning a war not enough for you?”
Alexander waved dismissively. “I am not talking about Jonia. I am talking about Themis. People no longer respect Her. That has to change.” His gaze scanned Cyrus’s face. “Now, with your help, perhaps it still can. For some reason, people love Parad’s son, even if he turned out to be nothing but a drunken failure. There are those who would welcome your rule.”
“They’re more than you think, Priest.”
Alexander slapped him so hard that Cyrus’s head banged against the glass. “It’s Your Eminence to you,” he hissed.
Cyrus’s cheek burned. His head throbbed where he had slammed it against the glass. He pushed his tongue against aching teeth to make sure none of them had fallen off. “You’re mad.”
He was prepared for the second slap, so he pulled back. The priest’s fingers only grazed his face.
“You will show me the respect that Themis commands,” the man hollered.
“I am your ruler,” Cyrus barked and spat at Alexander. “One day, you’ll hang for what you’ve done.”
Alexander took out a white silken handkerchief and patted his cheek. “Spitting, really?” He stared at the moist fabric, an expression of disgust on his face. “What are we, five?” He let out a theatrical sigh. “Perhaps we should try again. What I am proposing is really quite simple. You help me, and you live. You do not, and you die.”
Cyrus leaned back, crossing his hands. “What kind of help?”
“As soon as we are back, you shall be reinstated. I will be hailed a hero, bringing back the missing ruler. Teo won’t be too happy about it, but you can leave him to me.” He steepled his fingers and grinned. “Then, in, say, a month’s time, you will abdicate. It is time for a priest to rule the Capital.”
Cyrus laughed, then grimaced as his jaw hurt. “Being a religious leader isn’t enough for you? You want to be a politician too?”
“Is that what you think this is all about?” Alexander opened his arms and lowered his head in a display of piety. “Yes, I will rule the Capital. Not for me—for Themis. That is Her will.”
“With you as a leader to whip everyone into religious frenzy, Pearseus will soon be in flames. How can I do that?”
The sneer returned to Alexander’s face. “You are only partly right. If you refuse, it is not fire that shall consume Pearseus.” He pursed his lips. “Although, I guess, fever can be described as such. So maybe you are not that off the mark.”
“Fever? What are you talking about?”
“A purge. When the Servants last tried to cleanse the planet of our sins, they failed because of the Old Woman’s meddling. This time, they shall not fail. No Enki will save the sinners this time.”
Cyrus gazed out the window, slackening his aching jaw. His father had once taken him as a child to listen to one of the more popular priests. The man had thundered about the fate of sinners for over an hour. Cyrus had recurring nightmares filled with the fires of hell after that. When the priest was caught smuggling a golden statue out of the local temple, Styx had him executed. Cyrus now knew it was the priest’s popularity—and the perceived threat to Styx’ rule—that had sealed his fate. Back then, all that he cared about was that the nightmares had finally stopped. He could hardly wait for Alexander to suffer the same fate. “I have no idea what you’re—”
“The plague, boy,” the priest thundered, a consuming fire blazing in his eyes. “Unless you help me, I shall unleash a plague that will punish the sinners and wipe the slate clean. A purge. With Teo gone, my men will take over each and every town. Last time, it all started at the Capital. That was our mistake. One fire is easy to put out. But this time, the purge shall start all over Pearseus. Only true believers will survive.”
Cyrus gaped at him. He’s mad. “Disease makes no distinction between faiths, you madman. You’ll kill us all.”
Alexander flicked his wrist dismissively, like swatting away a fly. “Nonsense. The Servants have assured me that all of Her faithful are safe. Immune. We shall rise from the ashes of the old to build the new.” His eyes looked glassy, as if gazing at a vision of wonder.
Cyrus pulled at his chains in a vain effort to break them and reach the priest. “How can you trust the Whispers?” he said with a grunt. “They want us dead. All of us.”
Alexander’s mouth twitched. He punched Cyrus on the mouth. “I shall not have you test my faith.”
Cyrus’s jaw burned with pain. “Doesn’t matter. The Old Woman stopped you once. She’ll do it again.”
Alexander sneered. “No, she shan’t. The North is in disarray. Her apes, dispersed. The Democracies will soon be ours, thanks to Teo. My men have already started telling people the truth about the filthy apes.”
“What truth?”
“How they all carry terrible diseases, of course.”
Blood trickled from Cyrus’s lips. He
licked it, then raised his head in defiance. “No one will believe you.”
“Is that right?” Alexander scoffed. “They did when we told them that Anthea’s behind the North’s troubles. The greater the lie, the more people will want to believe it. Soon, no one will let anyone with a beard into our cities. And when they start dying, we shall tell them the apes did it, out of revenge. The heathen shall kill each other.” He grinned, baring his teeth. “Now, you see? You have no choice but to join us.”
Cyrus felt blood rush to his face. “Maybe you’re right,” he spat out. “Maybe I was a terrible ruler. But I’m still their ruler, whether you like it or not. And I won’t let my people down a second time.” He met the man’s gaze. “You want to know the first thing that I’ll do when I’m back on my throne? I’ll do to you what you did to those poor villagers. In fact, I’ll build two crosses. One for you and one for Teo.”
Alexander clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “How disappointing. Had you half a brain, you would have pretended to agree with me, and then do all that. Of course, the Servants of Themis would let me know, and you would have died all the same. But it would have been so much more fun.” He stared out the window for a moment. “Of course, you probably do only have half a brain, courtesy of our friend, Teo.” He chuckled at his own joke. “I shall keep you alive for a while longer, in case you come to your senses. In a coma, probably. I am not without mercy.” He took out a silk cloth and wiped blood from Cyrus’s mouth.
The feeling of the priest’s fingers next to his lips filled Cyrus with rage. Instinctively, he opened his mouth and bit his hand. Alexander let out a shrill scream and tried to draw it away, but Cyrus bit harder, until the fat flesh between Alexander’s thumb and his index came off and filled his mouth. Cyrus spat warm flesh out, grinning. Thick jets of blood soiled the vehicle’s leather.
Hollering with pain, Alexander pressed his wound against the jewel on his chest. The red crystal came alive in crimson pulses. With each pulse, the flesh regenerated. His face became blank.
Cyrus’s eyes popped wide. What the…
Within seconds, the priest’s hand was whole again. Panting, he fixed his eyes on Cyrus. His eyes burned with hate. “You animal.” He clicked on a button at the vehicle’s door. “Guards! Take the prisoner to the front.”
The car swooshed to a halt and the door opened.
Hands grabbed Cyrus and dragged him outside. “I’ll stop you,” he cried out. “You hear me? I’ll kill you, if it’s the last thing I do.”
“I’ll feed you to the Soul Crystal,” Alexander shouted back, stroking the still throbbing crystal. “You can spend all of eternity regretting this.” He rubbed his hand. “Animal.”
David
“Come on, you,” a voice said. “On your feet.”
David brought up his hand to shield his eyes from the sudden light bursting into the cell. A priest with a lit torch in his hand was standing before him.
I’m so tired, I didn’t even hear him come in. With no food and little water, his only solace had been drifting into an exhausted slumber. “What’s the date?” he rasped.
“Why, you have somewhere to be?” The priest chortled at his own joke and unlocked the heavy bracelets keeping David chained.
David bit his lower lip to keep from screaming as the metal ripped scabs off his wrists. “Where are we going?”
“Home.” The priest hoisted him up and pushed him out the door. “Come on, you. Ain’t got all day.”
“The Capital?”
The priest punched him in the back. “Enough with the questions,” he barked. “Walk!”
They walked outside, where David saw a wagon waiting for them. It was dusk—or was that dawn?—and two guards holding lit torches waited for them. His nostrils twitched at a strong smell of acrid smoke. Then, a flame leaped behind a building. They’re burning the village!
The priest kicked him forward, making him release the scream he’d been holding back. “Come on, we haven’t got all day,” the man snarled.
“His Eminence said not to harm him,” one of the other guards said. “He wants him alive.”
“You take him, then.” The priest shoved David forward and spat at him.
David stumbled toward the open door, his legs weak and numb. The guard helped him up and into the wagon. Before David could sit down on a wide bench lining its side, two thumps sounded from outside and the wagon jolted to movement. David lost his balance, but the guard caught him with one strong arm and helped him to the bench. The man picked up two irons from the floor and hesitated for a second.
“Your wrists are a mess. Give me your leg.”
David’s leg hurt when he pushed it forward, but he said nothing as the guard placed a piece of torn fabric from his pants to prevent the iron from coming into direct contact with any naked skin. “Where is Cyrus?”
“Your friend rides with his Eminence,” the man said and sat down on a bench across from him.
David studied him. Something about his face looked familiar. “What’s your name?”
A frown creased the man’s brow. “Mike.”
Two prematurely aged eyes stared back at David. He gasped with sudden recognition. “It’s you. The Guardian.”
The man’s brow furrowed further. “Yes, I was a Guardian.”
“You tried to stop me when I ran away from Styx. Back at the Capital.”
“Back at the…” His voice trailed off as he leaned forward and his eyes opened wide. “You’re the servant boy. The one who gave me the slip, what, ten years ago? The one with the parasite.”
“Eight years ago. And she was my friend.”
“Friend?” the man exclaimed, his eyebrow shooting up in surprise. “I was saving your life!”
“No, you weren’t.” Is he really that clueless? “She’s an Orb. Do you even know what that is?”
The man studied his hands like they held the answer to some unspoken question. “Yes.”
“Had I not escaped Styx, Themis knows where you would have taken her.”
“To the lab.”
What lab? “Then what?” David leaned forward in an attempt to catch the man’s gaze.
The guard turned his hands to study his open fingers. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Why are you lying?”
“You think you have all the answers, don’t you?” the man snapped at him. “Yet, you know nothing.”
“You don’t really know what an Orb is, or you wouldn’t hurt them.” His face hardened. “Or a Whisper, I’ll bet.”
“Whisp…” The man’s head snapped up at David, then his terrified gaze darted around the wagon. “The Servants of Themis?” he asked in a hushed voice. “Don’t speak of them.”
“So you do know them. What have they…” The wagon took a sharp turn. Through a crack in the wood behind the Guardian, David caught a glimpse of the road and his face twitched. An endless line of crosses dotted the winding path, each with a lit torch at its foot. A man or a woman hung from each cross. Some looked dead, the arrows sticking from their listless bodies making them look like half-skinned porcupines. Others stirred as the wagon drove by. Behind the crosses, hungry flames devoured the town.
A girl lifted her dazed gaze to look at them, her hands and feet tied to her cross with thick ropes. David recognized Jeb’s daughter and hollered in rage. He jumped forward, his hands aiming at the Guardian’s throat. The man leaned backward in alarm.
The chain on David’s leg dug into his flesh and almost crushed his bones. He let out a howl, fury blinding him. I could have saved them. “How could you?” he cried out.
The Guardian glanced behind him to look at the scene through the cracked wood and pressed his lips into thin lines. “Dur lex, sed lex. The law is harsh, but it’s the law. The Head Priest, he’s the one who—”
“And you’re the ones who did it. Anyone helping a monster is a monster. Why didn’t you stop him?”
The man jumped to his feet. “What could I do? Yo
u dare judge me?” He sat down again, his eyes shooting flames of fury at David. “After you escaped, they reassigned me to the lab. They said I was too old for field duty.” He ran his fingers through thinning hair. “I saw what happens there. What kinds of research they perform. How do you think Cyrus escaped with his life? Just one of their inventions could change the entire planet. But no one cares about that. No one even knows—not the Justices, not the Regent, not even the last Head Priestess.”
“Tie.”
“She had her suspicions but could never find the lab. And it’s not just that. Under the lab, there’s something much older.” His voice cracked. “The ones you call Whispers, they live there. They feed on the parasites.”
“They corrupt Orbs,” David said, his voice now calmer. “Or destroy them. I know that. But what are they?”
The man’s gaze again darted around before he leaned forward. “All I know is, there’s something even older than them down there. Something that births them. And lately, it’s been getting worse.”
David held his breath. “Anything that’s born can die. What are they up to?”
“I don’t know. But it’s big. The Head Priest is the one organizing it.”
David grabbed the man’s calloused hands. “You have to help me stop them.”
The man yanked his hands as if David’s fingers were on fire. “Are you mad? How can anyone stop a god?”
“They’re not gods, they’re monsters. You saw what they do. You have to—”
The man stood up, using one hand to steady himself on the wagon’s wall. “I don’t have to do anything,” he shouted. “I don’t even need to listen to—” He almost lost his footing as the wagon came to a sudden stop.
The Valley
Sebastian
“Out,” Sebastian said, his thumb showing the guard inside the wagon the exit. He dragged Cyrus behind him.
The man cast a glance at the prisoner, then jumped out and stormed away, his face red. Sebastian fastened Cyrus’s chains to the wagon’s wall.
Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series Page 99