by Matt King
“He’s getting away,” Bear said.
“Let him try,” Meryn said as they watched. “He cannot hide from what’s to come.”
Bear didn’t have the energy to react. He slumped, succumbing to the pain and exhaustion left over from the fight. Electricity warmed his muscles as his body continued to heal itself.
Meryn stepped toward him. He raised his head to see her. She curled her arms around him in an embrace, letting her head fall on his shoulder. She held him close, and as his strength gradually returned, he took her in his arms with no intention of letting go.
It was Meryn who broke the embrace. She took his hands in hers. Behind her, a portal started to form.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
The face of the portal gelled over her shoulder. His eyes grew wide when he saw the image on its surface.
“What’s he doing there?”
“I can explain on the way,” she said, “but there is little time to lose. August and Shadow are in danger. We have to hurry.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
August kept his head turned toward the morning sun. Even though he couldn’t see it, he could feel its heat on his face. It helped to dull the pain some, but not much. The exposed nerves where his eyes had been provided a constant stream of needling stabs through his head. He kept wishing that his body would heal somehow, but how could it heal when there was nothing left to mend?
Footsteps pounded outside his cell. Two of the Ministers, he guessed, with their hard exoskeleton clicking against the floor, and then a third person who took softer, more deliberate steps.
The door to his room opened. He kept his face to the light.
“Are you well?” Amara asked.
August turned his head in her direction so she could see what had been done to him. “What do you want?”
“The Circle is prepared to hear your testimony,” she answered.
“And what are you prepared to do?”
“My dear August, I could ask you the same.” She spoke to the Ministers. “Bring him here, please.”
Heavy footsteps walked to his side. Hands curled around his arms and lifted him to standing. The sound of machine parts droned beneath the Ministers’ shell, humming and whirring with each movement. They half-guided, half-carried him over to Amara.
“May I see your hand?” she asked.
The Minister on his left grabbed his arm and held it out without waiting for him to answer. Amara took his wrist and gently guided it back to his shoulder. She pressed one of his fingers to the button below his ear. His mask triggered, closing over his face. “There,” she said.
“Worried they’ll see what you’ve done?” he asked.
“One should face their end with dignity,” she answered. Her fingers lingered on his mask. “You are a champion, however ill-advised.”
He pulled away from her.
“I trust you remember my offer,” she said.
“I don’t trust you for shit.”
“Well, I do suppose that would be a problem for you. If I were in your position, though, I would consider it a waste of your life to sacrifice yourself with nothing to show for it.”
She took a step back. At once, the guards tightened the grip on his arms and started to lead him forward. He couldn’t hear her footsteps walking in front of them. Maybe she’d disappeared. Whether she was there or not, her words lingered in his head.
The walk was slow and silent. It wasn’t until he was led up a long flight of spiral stairs that he began to hear the sounds of spring outside. It was bittersweet to hear the wind rushing through the gardens. It was a part of the world he thought he’d never see again, and now he couldn’t.
“Lift your head,” one of the Ministers said as they left the stairs for the hard floors of a hallway. Like Polaris, he spoke in a chorus of voices. “We are going to present you.”
The doors opened ahead of him with a sharp click. His breaths quickened. After spending the last few hours saying goodbye to his life, he thought he’d prepared himself for the moment, but the act of passing through the doors of the arena triggered a survival instinct that was as useless as his sight. His feet moved beneath him, but the sensation was detached, like he was floating between the guards. Panic stirred. He did his best to will it away. This is not how I go out, screaming and crying. You came here to save these people, Dillon. Do it.
His breathing slowed to an even rhythm. He listened to the footsteps of the Ministers echo through the empty hall. In his mind, he filled the room with the faces of the people left behind after Gemini’s attack, their expressions full of anger and fear. It was them he would talk to, he decided. They were the ones who deserved the truth.
“The champion, August Dillon,” the Minister announced.
They stopped to show him off, and then guided him onto the center floor. There was a presence he could feel as electric pressure on his skin. He was in the company of gods.
The guards sat him in a chair. August felt the sides to find the arm rails. He pushed himself back and turned his head from side to side listening for where his jury stood.
“Good morning, August,” Amara said, her voice silky and confident. “Thank you for agreeing to testify before this meeting of the Circle. There are some members here that you have not met. To my left are Tamaril and Cerenus. The others you know, Galan and Anemolie. Behind them are Michael and Talus.”
“Could you new guys do me a favor and describe yourselves?” August asked. “My eyesight’s not what it used to be.”
“Why, Amara. You haven’t been treating your captive poorly, have you?” one of the gods asked.
“An unfortunate casualty of circumstance, Cerenus,” Amara answered.
“More unfortunate for some than others, it appears.”
“You were told to be here in your corporal form,” another man said. August didn’t recognize the voice. He assigned it to Tamaril.
“Yes, well, I’m a little busy at the moment, Tamaril. I figured this form was good enough to say ‘Yay’ or ‘Nay.’ Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“It wasn’t an option. You were told—”
“Spare me your recital of the rules. Whenever I go to these little meetings of ours I assume you’ll bring enough decor for the both of us.”
“Enough,” Galan said. “We have a trial to carry out.”
“And we’re missing someone, aren’t we?” Cerenus asked. “I don’t see a certain sniveling sycophant anywhere. Did Balenor have better plans?”
“Everyone whose attendance is required is present,” Amara said with a slight edge to her voice. “If it is all right with you, Cerenus, I would like to have this finished quickly.”
“Of course. Let the party begin.”
Amara let the room settle before speaking again. “Some time ago we met to decide the fate of Meryn. In my estimation, that trial was carried out without the evidence required to sentence the criminal. Today, we will hear the true account of what transpired from one of her champions. When it is over, I ask that each of you not already involved in this conflict to pass judgment on Meryn’s actions. Since Anemolie has pledged herself to Pyra’s cause, Tamaril and Cerenus will have the deciding votes. If convicted, Meryn’s sentence will be carried out according to our laws, laws that we were all sworn to honor and uphold.”
August lowered his head.
“August Dillon,” Galan’s voice boomed. “Were you here on this Earth on the day in question?”
The room hung on his answer. “Yes,” he said.
“Was there another champion with you?”
“Bear was.”
“You speak of the Lawson man, Meryn’s second champion?”
“Yes.”
“And how did the two of you manage to survive the attack?”
“Well, it was tough, having just totally, completely—and looking back, kind of easily—dispatched your squad of machines. We were a little tired. Only a little though.”
One of the gods snick
ered.
Galan’s voice slipped into a low snarl. “And after?”
August’s thin veil of bravado and humor fell away. He imagined the faces of the survivors filling the room, all staring at him, all brainwashed to think he was the real Gemini. In his mind’s eye, they waited expectantly, looking as though they were on a hair trigger to throw him to the wolves.
Somewhere in the back of the crowd was the image of Meryn. She sat with her back to him, staring out of a window at the sunlight streaming in.
He forced himself to take a breath. His words were caught behind a dam of indecision. “I’m sorry,” he said under his breath.
“Speak up,” Galan said.
August barely heard him. He positioned his head toward where he imagined his jury to be. Not the gods, but the people.
“I was at the Lawson farm with Bear, the Horsemen, Meryn, and Paralos.”
“Paralos?” Tamaril said.
“Let him finish,” Amara replied.
The image of the farm slipped easily into his memory. He saw the old white house with the long driveway winding between oaks. He saw the red and green barns and the rolling fields of corn behind them. What he couldn’t see were the faces of anyone with him that night, which was fine with him. He moved on before they had a chance to form.
“It was just after the fight in the mountains. We were standing at the farm after coming through Meryn’s synapse. We were happy. I remember that. It felt like we had saved lives.”
“Move on,” Galan said sharply.
August picked out a woman in the crowd, the Asian woman who slapped him on the way into Amara’s castle. He could still see the confusion and anger in her eyes. He spoke to her directly. “We never saw it coming. Bear and I heard something in the distance. When I looked, I saw a red wave coming toward us. It looked like it was swallowing everything in its path. Meryn recognized it for what it was—Gemini. I don’t know where he was, but he’d set himself off. He was more powerful than we realized. The wave was coming for us and there was nothing we could do.”
Amara prodded him when he paused. “Continue, Mr. Dillon.”
“No,” he said.
A ripple of confusion spread through the gods. He could hear them murmuring.
“Continue,” she said again.
“I want you to do something first.”
“This is a trial, Mr. Dillon, not a bargaining session.”
“I want you to say that I’m not the Gemini,” he said, ignoring her. “Tell them it wasn’t me.”
The gods fell silent. He imagined the Circle looking at Amara. More importantly, he saw the eyes of his jury watching her.
“As you wish,” she said. “Gemini, as you call him, Michael to me, was the one responsible for your attack.”
“Attack on everyone,” August added.
She paused. He thought he heard a smile in her reply. “Yes. Everyone.”
He turned back to the people to watch their faces change. As he hoped, they lost some of the anger, but not all. He searched for the reporter. When she looked at him now, her face had lost its fiery expression, but her confusion remained. Over her shoulder, he saw Meryn still sitting with her back to him. He looked away quickly.
“What happened next?” Cerenus asked.
August spoke to the reporter, keeping his words focused on her. “There was nothing we could do,” he said again. “Nothing to stop it. Just before it hit, Paralos screamed at Meryn to stop what she was doing, but she didn’t. She shielded us from the blast.”
“Meryn did,” Galan repeated.
August turned his mental eye as far away from Meryn’s image as he could. “Yes,” he said. “Meryn saved us. And only us.”
The Circle let the words hang in the air. Amara was the one to break the silence. “Thank you for your honesty,” she said. “You have done all that we require of you.”
August faced her voice. “And now it’s your turn.”
“Soon,” she said.
The doors to the room opened on August’s left. He turned toward the sound and heard the clinking footsteps of a Minister walking toward him.
“Polaris,” Amara said. “I asked you to keep watch for the others.”
“My apologies, Lady Amara, but I bring news.”
Polaris walked across the floor in front of him. A murmur of voices followed, mostly from the cyborg. When she was done, no one spoke. Every second that passed felt like it was the last seconds before a bomb exploded.
“What news, my Lady?” Cerenus asked. “You look like you’re positively simmering.”
“I must go,” she said sharply.
“Lady Amara, the trial,” Anemolie said.
“The trial is over. Polaris, take the prisoner to the base of Pyra’s statue. Bring Talus with you.”
Galan interrupted. “But the people will see—”
“Let them see,” she growled. “Make sure you remove his mask before he goes. And take his tongue. I will not hear him speak again.”
Hard footsteps grew louder in August’s ears as they approached. Cold fingers gripped his arm and pulled him to his feet. “The people,” he said. He jerked free of Polaris’s grasp and fell to the floor. He looked around, not knowing where Amara was. “You said you would save them!”
“Death frees all of Pyra’s children,” Amara answered. “They will be saved, as will you.”
Polaris grabbed him again.
“You can’t!” he screamed as she pulled him away from the Circle. “You can’t do this!”
No matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t free himself from Polaris’s grasp again. A second pair of hands grabbed his other arm to drag him up the stairs.
As the doors swung open, his fight drained. He wasn’t sure he was still breathing. He turned his mind’s eye to the imagined gallery of people, hoping to give them a final apology. No matter where he looked, they were gone.
With a jolt, Polaris stopped. She let go of his arm, leaving him with the other Minister. For the first time, he heard the sound of his blades at her side. Their siren call was the only voice in the room.
“Polaris, what is it?” Galan called up.
The gears inside her body purred.
“Polaris?” he asked again.
She answered without a hint of panic in her voice. “I would advise you all to move to safety. Velawrath is here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Aeris held tight to Shadow’s mane as they crested the top of the mountain. A rising city dominated the sky in front of her. Amara’s castle sat above it all, the crown atop her kingdom. The only way in from the front was through a gate. Even from a distance, she could see a group of men milling around the entrance. They would have to scale the cliffs along the back to get inside.
She steered Shadow toward the wall of rock. Whether or not she was actually controlling the beast, she didn’t know. Shadow had followed her own trail to get to the castle. For a pause, Aeris thought she was going to charge straight through the city, but then she turned before she reached the base of the mountain and started up the cliffs. Aeris held on with all her strength. The beast’s claws dug wide gashes in the rocks as she jumped from one sloped crag to the next.
“There,” Aeris said, but Shadow was already slowing down as she approached a balcony jutting out over the mountainside. She hid underneath the overhang, slowly inching her way up until she could see over the edge. In one final movement, she vaulted herself over the top of the stone railing. She landed with a snarl, ready to fight, but there was no one there. The balcony and the hall leading away from it were empty.
Shadow stood, nearly throwing Aeris off in the process. Aeris landed quietly on the hard surface of the balcony and readied the fire in her hands. She walked ahead of Shadow, who eyed the interior of the castle with a low, constant growl. A pile of charred clothes sat next to the balcony entrance. Aeris picked through it, fearing the worst, but didn’t see anything of August’s.
They stepped into the empty hall. Sh
e lowered the gold band holding her hair back and embraced the absorption of senses. She kept them on high alert as she moved through the silent corridors. Shadow’s claws ticked on the floor behind her. Easy, she wanted to say. We won’t find August if we’re fighting the entire guard at once.
They made it to a set of stairs and started to climb. Aeris threw out a hand to stop Shadow when she got near the top. Two guards stood ahead of them, each carrying a long spear with a green tip at the end. She slowly built the fire in her palms.
Shadow tensed. Her skin reeked of anger.
“Not yet,” Aeris whispered.
Without warning, Shadow burst down the hall. She pounced on one of the guards, tearing the head from his body before he could scream. The other guard tried in vain to stab her. She whipped out a clawed hand, ripping through the second guard’s chest. He fell in a heap beside the first. Shadow stood over them and raised her muzzle into the air. She sniffed, then let out a screeching, angry scream that filled the castle.
Aeris closed her eyes. Gods take this creature.
Before Shadow ended her roar, the castle sprang to life. Footsteps rumbled on the floors above them. At the other end of the corridor, more guards turned the corner. Aeris didn’t wait for Shadow to block her shot. She lit her hands and released a pair of wide beams that cut through the forces like a pair of spears. Their bodies scattered.
“Can you find August?” she asked Shadow.
Shadow looked down at her with wild orange eyes. Her black lips curled back to reveal a curtain of teeth. She turned to the hallway and broke into a run, her steps turning into a long confident stride as she went.
Aeris followed as closely as she could. She took down whatever guards Shadow missed as she sped through one floor, then up a staircase to the next. As they climbed, the hallways widened. The walls changed from plain white to lavishly decorated walkways adorned with silver and gold. They were closing in on the top of the castle. With every step, she wondered if she was too late. Would August be allowed to live now that Amara knew they were coming for him?
They ran past a window and Aeris glanced briefly through the gap. She stopped mid-stride. Her mouth hung slack as she took in the horrid sight. “No,” she muttered. “Not yet.”