The Last Winter (The Circle War Book 2)

by Matt King

  He stood in the empty window display with mouth agape, pleading for the confusion fairy to free him from his curse. “Whatever’s going on with you, I’d appreciate a little heads up. I can actually stop talking long enough to listen, believe it or not.”

  “Soon,” she said. “I can’t now. Not yet.”

  “You’re not even giving me a chance.”

  “If there was anything you could do, I would tell you.”

  So there is something. He tucked the thought away to bring up later. “Fine. But I’m not going to leave her out there forever. I won’t.”

  “She’s likely to head in the direction we are going,” Aeris answered.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “She will need food. If anything is alive, it will be in Amara’s land.”

  “What if she doesn’t go the right way?”

  “Animals know,” she replied, and walked off toward the river again.

  “Where are you going?”

  She left without an answer.

  He climbed down from the store window. He looked from Aeris to the dark gray skies building on the horizon. He felt pulled in both directions at once, but stood in place instead, knowing he wasn’t welcome in either.

  ■ ■ ■

  They waited out the storm in separate rooms of a store whose windows had mostly remained intact. When the skies calmed the next morning, he had their skis waiting in the street when she came back from her morning scouting routine. Despite her warnings, he wanted to get going. The farther Shadow got, the more he felt he’d never see her again.

  “You ready for this?” he asked.

  She eyed the thin skis. “If we must.”

  He put on his pair and showed her “the glide” as his uncle had called it. He hadn’t been cross-country skiing since he was a teenager, but the muscle memory returned soon enough. He helped her into her skis after a few demonstration laps.

  “Just let yourself get into the rhythm. Left, glide, right, glide. It’s just like walking, only…faster, and with gliding.”

  Aeris took a few hesitant first steps.

  “That’s it. See? Nothing to it.”

  One of her skis snagged against a rock, sending her tumbling to the ground. She reached down, ripped off both skis, and threw them against the side of a building. She shattered them with a pair of blasts from her hands.

  When the fire died away, her eyes glanced to him. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Didn’t say a word.”

  She went through two more pairs before she got the basics down. By nightfall, they’d made it ten miles, straight into the heart of a storm so fierce, it forced them to attach a rope between themselves so they wouldn’t lose each other. After a few days, the skies calmed, and he noticed the snow starting to get thinner. Nights weren’t as blindingly dark as before. He tried to stifle the hope that they were nearing the end of the blast’s effects. Every time he got excited about finding Shadow again, he’d remember that Gemini and Amara were that much closer, too. He tried not to think about what would happen if they found her first.

  They were somewhere deep in the heart of Iowa when they first saw the sun through the clouds. It wasn’t the lightened shade of gray he’d been calling the sun since he’d returned either, but the actual sun. He raced up the hill, leaving Aeris in his tracks. He got to the top panting with his heart pounding in his chest. Jesus Christ, I never thought I’d see this again. He closed his eyes, letting the rays warm his face through his mask.

  When he finally looked down at the plains for the first time, the sound of his heartbeat slowly faded away. Everything became numb—the wind blowing the branches of a tree below, Aeris struggling to climb the slope behind him—all of it faded to background noise. He stared straight ahead, either unwilling or unable to process what he was seeing.

  His eyes swept across the rising teeth of the mountains on the horizon. Mountains. The bottom edge of the sun balanced on the tip of a peak. Below it, the light carried through a pair of diamond doorways, sending a shaft of white light onto green grass. As foreign as it looked, he recognized the view. It was the same scene from the woman’s drawings in the tent.

  A pair of arms grabbed him around the waist and pulled, doubling him over. He came to a stop on his back. Aeris hovered over him.

  “Get down,” she whispered.

  They stayed on the ground for more than a minute. Finally, she checked back over her shoulder and allowed him to sit up.

  “What the hell was that all about?” he asked.

  “Did you not see them?”

  “See who?”

  She pointed to the north. A caravan of people moved across the plains. Milling throughout the group were figures dressed in familiar white robes.

  “Polaris?” he asked.

  Aeris shook her head. “I don’t see her.”

  He wondered how she could tell, and then remembered who he was talking to. “I guess asking to share a tent is out of the question.”

  “We should stay silent until they are gone,” she replied. She slid back down the hill, not standing until she was out of sight of the caravan.

  He stayed behind to watch the group. A scattering of small fires popped up. He kept hidden in the grass until he was sure they wouldn’t be moving for the night. Only the guards stirred after the sun went down.

  What would I say to those people? he wondered. What can I possibly do to convince them I’m not who they think I am?

  His eyes turned to the white glow coming from the city in the mountains. He edged off the top of the hill. On his way down to join Aeris he tried to make sense of what he was feeling. All this time he’d been hoping to see his world healed. Now that he had, it didn’t seem like healing at all. It felt more like the eye of the storm.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Velawrath.

  August opened his eyes, not sure if he’d heard the name in a dream or said it aloud. He stayed silent as he looked around their makeshift campsite. It took him a few deep breaths to realize Aeris was gone.

  “Aeris?” he whispered.

  Snow crunched beneath his feet as he searched through the darkness for her. He found her next to a slowly trickling creek, kneeling on the ground at the base of a tree. A blue haze lit the snow in front of her. She held a hand to her chest.

  The light faded as he got closer. When it went away for good, he thought he heard something. It sounded like she was crying. He hesitated, not sure if he should go any farther. So this is how she’s been dealing with it, by crying alone at night.

  “Do you want me to go?” he asked.

  Her crying stopped. She turned her head to look for him. “I thought you were asleep.” She wiped the back of her hand across her eye.

  “Heard a voice. Thought you might be talking to someone.”

  She didn’t get up off the ground. Instead, she stayed silent with her head hung forward.

  He edged closer to her. He put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Don’t,” she said, jerking away from him. She stood and walked to the other side of the tree.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help.”

  “If you want to help, leave me alone.”

  For a second he considered it, even going so far as to take a step toward their camp. Then he stopped. “It won’t do you any good to keep it bottled up inside, you know.”

  She shook her head.

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Stop,” she said.

  He walked to stand behind her. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Please, stop.”

  “You aren’t the one to blame—”

  “Stop it!” she yelled. Her violet eyes brimmed with tears. “You don’t understand.”

  “Then tell me what I don’t understand. Explain it to me.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “Yes you can. Nobody’s stopping you.”

  “He is,” she said.

/>   He caught her glance to the sky. “Who is? Paralos?”

  She closed her eyes.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She bristled against the breeze even though it was no longer the icy wind they’d been suffering through since the start of their trip. Her hand went to the mark on her chest. She traced the edge of the stone, seemingly lost in thought, then dug her fingers into the groove around it. She ripped it out of her armor and threw it against a tree. It shattered, sending lifeless blue shards falling to the ground.

  “Gods take him,” she said. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Do you mind filling me in on what’s going on here?”

  Her voice was barely audible. “He wouldn’t let me tell you. I wanted to warn you but he said you would try to stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  Her eyes reached him slowly. “Velawrath,” she said.

  The words stalled in his mouth. He tried and failed to piece together what she was hinting at. “Velawrath is on our side. He’s one of us.”

  “But not like us,” she said. She took a quivering breath. “He is no man.”

  He felt a sudden chill. “Then what is he?”

  “Velawrath is a planet—a sentient world.”

  “You’re not making sense. A planet can’t be alive.”

  “They are a race who pre-date the gods. The first eternal beings. Velawrath is very much alive, and he will be here before tomorrow’s night falls.”

  His thoughts were moving too quickly for him to realize at first what Paralos had planned. Slowly, he began to piece together what was happening. A planet used as a champion, but how would a planet kill?

  “He’s going to crash it into the Earth,” he said.

  Aeris’s stare fell to the ground.

  “I’m right, aren’t I? He sent us here to make sure that Amara’s champions thought they were in for a fight, but we’re nothing but bait. He means to kill this world and everything on it.”

  “He is Paralos’s greatest accomplishment,” she muttered. “A champion who can’t be killed. It is as I told you. We are nothing but pawns to them.”

  His knees felt like they were going to give way. He took a step back from her.

  “August…”

  “No,” he said. “Don’t. You’re a part of this.”

  “This was the deal I was forced to make—the power to save my people in exchange for my sacrifice. If I could have warned you, I would have. Paralos wouldn’t allow it. He—”

  “You said we were pawns,” August replied. “You didn’t tell me you were willing.”

  She opened her mouth to speak. He turned his back on her and walked away, slowly at first, but as the visions of Velawrath’s arrival flashed through his head, he broke into a flat-out run.

  “Where are you going?” she yelled after him.

  He ran without a direction until he saw the survivor’s encampment over the hill. Survivors. They’d lived through one hell and now they were about to be put through another. He could’ve stopped Gemini once and he didn’t. It wasn’t a mistake he meant to make twice. He couldn’t accept that it was too late. I can still save them.

  Aeris’s pleas faded to nothing behind him. He ran as fast as he could, until every breath felt like it was filling his lungs with fire. I can still save them, he repeated in his head. I have to.

  He slowed as he approached the campsite. The people were gathering their things, preparing to make the final day’s trek to Amara’s safe haven. One of the figures in white saw him first. He was dressed in a robe similar to Polaris. His eyes blazed blue. The cyborg and his Pyrian guards called out a warning, sending the camp into a panic. They formed a wall between August and the people.

  August came to a stop, near collapse and unable to gain his breath. He looked at the panicked expression on the people’s faces, all huddled together behind the warriors who promised them safety. Those who made eye contact with him stared at him with eyes full of anger.

  No. Not anger. These are the faces of the betrayed.

  He took out one sword, then the other, and dropped them to the ground.

  “I’m the one you want,” he said with a broken voice. “I’m August Dillon. I’m the Gemini.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  It took four of Balenor’s guards to push Bear’s cell onto the ship. He stood in the middle of the small rectangular box, away from the blue walls of light separating him from the Horsemen’s cell. The brothers were awake, but moving slowly. As best he could tell, the guards hadn’t wanted to fight them when they were taken, choosing instead to knock them out from afar. The effects looked slow to wear off.

  Balenor’s men retreated down the ramp. The door to the ship closed, leaving the hangar mostly in darkness, lit only by a single line of red pulsing signals above the bay.

  “You boys all right?” Bear asked.

  One of the Horsemen looked up. He gave a slow nod. For reasons Bear hadn’t worked out yet, they’d been given their armor and masks back along with their weapons.

  The guards hadn’t given any signs about where he and the Horsemen were being taken. He only knew that Balenor had ordered them loaded onto the warship unharmed. He’d said the word like no harm had already been done.

  Engines rumbled to life outside the hangar. Bear watched as the brothers’ cell wall solidified into a slab of transparent blue glass. His cell did the same. As soon as the shields formed, the ship began to angle higher. He followed the Horsemen’s lead and took hold of the grating in the floor. A few seconds later, the ship rocketed skyward.

  The roar of the engines eventually dulled to a steady hum. Left by themselves with nothing to break up the monotony except the slow pulse of the red light, the minutes melted into hours. He lost track of time as they rode in darkness with the engines droning on the other side of the metal walls. He fought to keep his weary eyes open, not wanting to be caught off guard by the god again. Opposite him, the brothers had somehow managed to sleep. Or maybe they were just being still. He could never tell.

  “You should be resting, too.”

  Balenor’s voice echoed through the darkness. Bear stood and turned to find him. The god walked to the edge of his cell, his face lit in red.

  “My men didn’t hurt you, I hope,” he said. He looked at the Horsemen. “At least not too badly.”

  “Didn’t think you’d be concerned,” Bear replied. He wanted to reach through the walls and wrap his hands around the man’s wrinkled neck.

  “Despite what you think of me, I’m not a monster.”

  “No?”

  “Of course not. I never wanted any of this.”

  Bear snorted. “Right. You’re innocent.”

  “More than most,” Balenor replied. He crossed his hands behind his back. “I know you’re angry, but your anger is focused on the wrong god. I am not the one who put you here.”

  “No one forced you to throw me in this prison, or to hurt the Horsemen.”

  “Meryn did,” Balenor shot back. He sounded like a child trying to argue his way out of trouble. “She forced my hand. Forced all our hands.”

  “Don’t bring her into this,” Bear rumbled. “She’s not to blame for what you’ve done.”

  “Understandable that you would feel that way,” the god replied in a voice bordering on pity. “I can see what she means to you.”

  “And I can see how little she means to you.”

  Balenor shook his head. He started to pace between the two cells. “You must understand, it was never my intent to enter this war. Soraste’s either. We were the ones trying to stop it in the beginning. Or at least I was.”

  “Is that your excuse? That you gave it your best shot?”

  “You have no idea what it’s like,” Balenor snapped. “You can’t. For you, death has always been a certainty. You live your life knowing that one day, it will end. That is not how we in the Circle live. We had never known death until Ule. It’s not something we’ve prepared for. Now tha
t it’s become a possibility—a real possibility—we have all become prone to making emotional decisions, as Meryn did when she challenged Amara.”

  “Amara is the reason all this has happened. Not Meryn.”

  Balenor shrugged. “Perhaps. Or perhaps Amara’s actions brought to light Meryn and Paralos’s real desire—to acquire Amara’s power.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Paralos has never been shy about his lust for her throne. He craves it. Did Meryn never tell you why she and Amara originally came up with our laws?”

  Bear watched him pace without answering.

  “It wasn’t just because of a brewing war with Ule. They did it to protect our kind from Paralos’s growing army. He was the only one to show that he was actively amassing a fighting force. What is the purpose of creating a war machine if you have no desire for war?”

  “Maybe he saw what was coming.”

  “Or maybe he fueled it. Amara’s delusions are just that—a fantasy. Yes, it is unfortunate that she caused the death of one of our own, but I’m a firm believer that she can be cured of this affliction. Myself, Soraste, and Tamaril, we were sure that one day we could help her.”

  “So Soraste’s a part of this too?”

  Balenor paused for a step. “Not yet. She is too close to Meryn to think clearly.”

  Bear looked across to the Horsemen. The brothers rose from their sleep.

  “Where are you taking us?” he asked.

  “To die, I’m afraid.” Balenor frowned. “It is unfortunate and I apologize, but I had no choice.”

  “Yes you did. You had a choice and you made it.” He looked again to the brothers. As tough as they were, he could only picture what was to come for them. If there was a chance he could spare their lives, he had to try. “It’s not too late, Balenor. You can still make this right.”

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible.” He sighed and looked to the cargo door at the rear of the ship. “I have a deal with Amara. We’ve all made deals.”

  Bear’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean, ‘all?’”

  “All of us, including Cerenus. You’d be surprised how malleable that snake could be,” the god said with a sneer. “Where do you think I got my army?”