by Matt King
Polaris came flying down from above. She crashed into Aeris, flattening her to the ground as she drove her fists into Aeris’s jaw, knocking her head from side to side. Aeris slipped deeper into the snow with each punch.
August went for her with swords drawn. Polaris stood before he got there and tossed something from her belt. A metal disc struck him in the chest, attaching itself to his suit like a magnet. He reached down to take it off. Blinding shocks of pain shot through his chest and legs, dropping him to the rocky shore. He screamed as the muscles in his body convulsed. The shocks ended when the spent disc fell away, but his paralyzed limbs refused to move.
Polaris stood in between them. She formed the energy staff in her hand. With Aeris broken and buried beside her, she had her choice of kills.
Her eyes eventually focused on him.
Like a rushing train, Shadow came roaring through the darkness to tackle her. They went tumbling down to the ground. Shadow grabbed Polaris in one clawed hand and hurled her into the trunk of a tree, almost snapping her in half.
Polaris got up slowly. She looked between the three of them, studying Shadow as though she was calculating the odds of survival.
Her weapon melted back into her purple shell. She gave Aeris a final long look before sprinting off into the woods.
Shadow roared after her, but didn’t give chase. Her eyes never wavered from the trees, even when her anger dulled to a constant growl.
Aeris and August slowly recovered enough to stand at her side. Shadow looked past Aeris to him. She picked him up and started sniffing.
“It’s okay, I’m fine.”
Her orange eyes scanned every inch of him. With her inspection done, she put him down again. Her eyes immediately lost some of their fire. Her hand went to the wounds on her chest.
He scratched the fur of her neck. “Shadow? You okay girl?”
“What’s the matter?” Aeris asked groggily.
The gurgling sounds of Shadow’s breaths grew weaker. “Something’s wrong,” he said. “We have to get her back to camp.”
Aeris limped to Shadow’s side.
Shadow’s eyelids drooped, coming up less with each long blink. With a low groan, she fell forward, sending up a cloud of snow and ash as she fell to the ground.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bear first glimpse of Cerenus’s capital city felt dizzying, like he was walking through a dream. The Horsemen stood at his side, stoic as always even in the face of something so grand. Cerenus will try to intimidate you, Meryn had said. Standing in the shadow of the golden city, he wondered just how much more intimidating the man could be.
Just keep walking, he coached himself. People and buildings. That’s all they are. People and buildings.
On a plateau in the mountains with the rest of the island visible beneath them, he and the Horsemen set off for the crystal wall surrounding the shining city. The water hugging the island was a deep shade of green. Satellite towns dotted the plains below, but none of them compared to the heights of the capital buildings. There were domed arenas, towering arches, skyscrapers that dwarfed most mountains he’d seen—all of them centered around a pyramid capped by a twisting helix of light.
They eventually made their way across the plated causeway to a grand set of golden doors. As soon as they got close, a handful of armed guards came galloping from the open gates riding beasts that looked like giant horned wolves. Each of the men held a spear at his side.
Bear turned to the Horsemen. “We’re not here to provoke anything. Don’t give them a reason to use those weapons.”
The guards descended, forming a circle around him and the brothers. He had to do a double-take when he saw them up close. Their armor was identical to August’s, only gold instead of dark blue. The metal was polished to a blinding sparkle.
Bear pressed a button to stow his helmet. The guards took aim.
“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re friendly.”
One of the guards lowered his weapon, a spear inlaid with pearl grip. He dismounted and handed the reigns to the guard beside him. The man surveyed the group, his face hidden by a familiar reflective shield.
“We’ve come to see Cerenus,” Bear said. He bowed as Meryn instructed him to if he ever uttered Cerenus’s name.
“Your hands,” the guard answered.
Bear straightened. “Pardon?”
“Hold out your hands.”
Bear stole a look at the Horsemen. Not wanting to start a brawl before they ever reached the city, he did as he was told, extending his arms in front of him.
The guard took a thin metal cylinder from his belt. As soon as he put the bar between Bear’s wrists, it pulled both hands together like a magnet, sealing itself to the sides of Bear’s gauntlets. He tugged to free them. The seal wouldn’t budge.
The guard walked past him to the Horsemen. “Your hands,” he said.
The Horsemen didn’t move.
“Go on,” Bear said to them. “It’s all right.”
When they kept still, the guard reached down to take the nearest Horseman by the wrist. The brother brought his other hand across with a quick punch. For once, it was too slow, and the guard leveled the Horseman with two quick shots to the leg with his spear. The brother fell like a stone.
“Don’t!” Bear yelled at the others before they jumped in.
A circle of pointed spears pushed the rest of the Horsemen back in place. The fallen brother got to his feet, his hair hanging down over his black mask. He favored his left leg.
“We’re guests here,” Bear said. “No more of that.”
The brothers looked away from him and scanned the circle of guards. One by one, they slowly lifted their hands to be bound.
He tried to shake the feeling that Balenor was right, that they’d wandered into enemy territory, already hamstrung and hogtied on their way to slaughter.
Enough, Johnny. You do what you came here to do. It was his father’s voice. Not a hand pulling him up, but a firm nudge pushing him forward. He took the advice and pressed on.
With armed guards riding on all sides, he and the Horsemen were ushered through the gates of the city. Bear felt the eyes of the people watching him as they moved through the streets. Conversations silenced as they passed. He tried to look straight ahead, but he couldn’t escape the suspicious glares of the bustling crowd.
They were led to a raised circular stage guarded by a pair of soldiers. A family passed by the guards on their way to a golden terminal, where they each scanned their wrists over a band of light. They walked up the ramp to stand beneath a pair of arched machines, carrying on a conversation like nothing was happening as a metal ring started to spin around them. The family seemed to fade before his eyes until their bodies disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the stage empty as the ring slowed and eventually fell back in place on the floor.
“Move,” the guard said. He took Bear to the stage and gave him a not-so-gentle nudge up the ramp. He and the brothers were surrounded again as their entourage filled the width of the circle.
The metal ring sprang to life, swirling faster until he could barely see it moving. A tingling sensation grew in his feet. Then, for a split-second, his vision dimmed like he was looking through squinted eyes, even though he held them wide open. The wind in his chest stilled. Finally, the metal ring slowed, revealing a white room decorated with exotic plants and ornate metal sculptures displayed in indentions along the wall. The guards pushed him forward.
A smartly-dressed woman in a form-fitting silver suit waited for them. She looked him up and down briefly before addressing the guards.
“Cerenus will see this one,” she said. She motioned to the brothers next. “These will wait out here.”
Bear looked back and gave a slow nod in hopes they’d cooperate.
“Come with me,” she said.
He turned his back on the Horsemen and followed her through a door that opened at her touch. The stench of alcohol immediately filled his nose, mixed with the s
mell of flowers coming from the woman’s perfume. A banquet table ran the length of the room. The afternoon sun coming through the crystal walls cast shards of rainbow light on the golden place settings. It looked like the party had just ended, with half-eaten food and empty tankards covering the table.
The banquet hall gave way to a spherical room with a tall throne at its center. Cerenus filled the seat. His longer blond hair, closer to brown than yellow, fell over clothes decorated with diamond trim. He held a scepter in one hand and a large chalice in the other.
The woman stopped before the end of the table, motioning for Bear to keep going without her. Her shoes clicked against the polished stone floor on her way out the door.
He turned his attention back to the throne. He took a hesitant step forward.
“That’s far enough,” Cerenus said.
Bear stopped short of the red velvet floor. He cleared his throat. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Don’t thank me yet. My eyes are still a little fuzzy.” The god took a long drink from the chalice before tossing it aside. He dropped his scepter next to the throne and half-walked, half-stumbled down the steps. He stopped at the bottom to steady himself, squinting at the light coming through the walls. “Cursed sun.”
“It seems you had quite a party,” Bear said.
“Hold that thought.” Cerenus passed by the table and shook every jug he could find until he picked one that still had water. He poured it into a cup and drank deeply. “You know, one of the disadvantages of allowing yourself to feel the bodily pleasures life affords is that you get the residual effects that go along with them.”
“I imagine that’s something you could heal pretty easily.”
The god scoffed. “What is the point of letting yourself feel these things if you’re just going to numb yourself later?” He took another swig of water. “Although you have a point. Nothing says I have to let the pain go on forever.”
He picked up a piece of meat, looked at both sides briefly, then took a large bite.
Not knowing what else to do, Bear stood in place and waited. When it became clear that Cerenus wasn’t going to start the conversation, he did his best to get things rolling. “If it’s all right with you,” he said, “I was hoping you could remove this so we could talk.” He held up his hands showing the metal bar still between them.
“Unless you plan on speaking with your hands, I’d rather those stayed on. For now, anyway. No offense. Precautions and all that.” He wiped away the place setting across from him, knocking a pair of plates to the floor. “Have a seat.”
Bear tried to smile despite the rebuff. He pulled the chair away with his foot and sat down. The table smelled of spilt wine.
“Your name is Bear, is it?”
“Nickname. My real name is John. John Lawson.”
“John Lawson.” He said the name like he was tasting it. “Tell me, John Lawson. What brings you to our little corner of the universe?”
“I’m here on behalf of Meryn. She asked me to speak to you.”
The name triggered an amused expression. “You’re one of her champions, then, and a big one at that. How is Meryn? Feeling relaxed after her little vacation?”
“I suppose,” Bear answered.
Cerenus looked him over once before leaning back in his chair with a wistful smile. “You know, I should really call on her again someday. My, we had some good times together. She and I could expend our fair share of energy, that’s for sure.” He glanced over at Bear. “Ah, but you don’t want to hear about all that. I’m sure she’s told you.”
“No,” Bear said, trying to push away the jealous knot in his stomach. “She hasn’t.”
“Never a braggart, that one,” Cerenus said. “Me, on the other hand…”
“Look, if you don’t mind, we have some business to discuss.”
A smile crossed Cerenus’s face. “You’re absolutely right. No use wasting time on the past. The floor is yours.”
Already on his heels, the talk of Meryn threatened to knock him further off balance. He’s trying to get in my head. Don’t let him. Bear took a breath to calm himself before he started. “I came to talk to you about the war.”
“How fascinating,” Cerenus said as he looked away to take another bite of meat.
“More important, I’m here to talk about your part in it.”
“Then this will be a short conversation because I have no part in it.”
“The war affects—”
“All of us? Please. Did that actually work on Balenor?”
Bear stiffened.
“You’re about as difficult to read as a child’s poem, John Lawson. If Meryn actually thought she could send you here and guard her plans at the same time, I’m insulted.” He took a quick sip of wine from a nearby cup. “You’ve already got Balenor and Soraste on your side, I can see it in your thoughts.”
“Then join us,” Bear replied.
“Join you?” Cerenus said through a laugh. “Mass suicide is not my idea of a good time. No, thank you. I’m perfectly content in living.”
“And how long will Amara allow that?”
“Well, let’s see,” Cerenus answered, feigning a deep thought. “We were around for a few hundred thousand years before she took Ule, so I’m guessing it may be a while yet.”
“But she’ll come for you eventually.”
Cerenus shrugged. “Eventually, perhaps. Though, eventually, any one of us could go mad and start murdering other Circle members. There’s no certainty when it comes to immortals—you never know what flight of fancy we might decide is our next great crusade. All I know is this: should I gather enough strength, even the craziest of immortals won’t soon come knocking on my door looking for a fight.”
“That’s a big risk to take, don’t you think?”
“It pales in comparison to the risk of taking on Amara too soon.” He smiled before adding, “If at all.”
Bear shifted in his seat. He switched tactics, hoping to find a weakness in the god. “There may be other benefits to joining our side beyond safety in numbers.”
Cerenus raised an eyebrow. He brushed off his hands and leaned back to cross his legs as he studied Bear. “Go on.”
“Our side would be willing to compensate you,” Bear said. The words felt dirty coming out of his mouth. He pressed on, regardless. “All you have to do is name your price.”
“Is that all?” Cerenus said, chuckling. His laughter filled the hall. “You know, you have a lot to learn about negotiation.”
Heat rose in Bear’s face.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to start low and work your way up? This has to be some sort of joke. Are we being watched?”
“This is no joke,” Bear said, maybe with too much force.
“Ooh, easy, John Lawson. At this rate, you’re going to make me look prophetic by keeping you in restraints.”
With the god’s amused stare driving him further back in his seat, Bear felt like running out of the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get upset.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. If I were in your shoes, I’d be angry too, especially if I’d traveled all this way just to find out that someone should give so little a damn about your tragic situation.”
Bear glared at him. “You’re really going to sit there and pretend you don’t care? There are lives at stake here.”
“Your lives, yes.”
“Not just ours,” Bear said. “People I love have been killed already. Thousands of others, too. Women. Children. Families.”
“And I’m sure that story brought a tear to Balenor’s eyes.”
Bear couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “None of this means anything to you?”
“Don’t take it personally,” Cerenus said. “We all have talents, Mr. Lawson. Mine is that I have a knack for self-preservation. Some might argue that it’s not an impressive trait for an immortal, but I learned long ago not to diminish my own character. There are plenty of others to do that for me.”
“But what about what Meryn did for you?” Bear asked.
“Did for me?”
“Her worlds,” Bear replied. “She gave you half.”
Cerenus’s eyes narrowed. “She told you, did she? Well as long as we’re all in the know, you’ll recall that I gave her the Orphii. That was the deal. Come to think of it, she was nearly as bad at negotiation as you are, so perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised.”
Bear shook his head. “You took advantage of her.”
Cerenus shrugged. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I saved her life. Depends on how you look at it, doesn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead taking another bite of food. “Besides, Meryn’s little visit might be something others would deem illegal, seeing as how she was supposed to have her armies in place before she made her challenge. And wouldn’t it be something if Amara were to have some actual evidence of Meryn’s guilt that she could use against her? I suppose I might get a little slap on the wrist for my part in the offense, but Meryn… Well, Meryn would be in a mountain of trouble.”
Bear’s fingers balled into a fist. He fought to keep his composure.
Cerenus looked back at him with a challenging smirk, daring him to act. After a few seconds he flashed a smile. “Care for some fruit?”
The door to the room opened again. Cerenus’s assistant walked inside. She gave a short bow. “Exalted, your next appointment is here.”
“More visitors? Were we expecting these?”
“Yes,” she said. Her attention turned to Bear.
“It appears my popularity knows no bounds. Unfortunately.” Cerenus stood and wiped away the crumbs from his disheveled coat. “I’m afraid we’ll have to continue this battle of wits another time, Mr. Lawson.”
“If you’d just give me a few more minutes,” Bear said, standing.
The woman held her hand out toward the door. “Come with me, if you will, please.”
Cerenus walked around the table and clapped Bear on the back, leading him toward the exit. “I think some rest and regrouping is in order for both of us. Why don’t you enjoy the night in our fair city? Drinks and food are on me. We can discuss things further in the morning if you still desire. Is that fair?”