Aware

by Andy Havens

  For the time being, those Earth Reckoners were locked in one of the concert halls, guarded by Ezer’s handpicked squads, all armed with Way-enhanced automatic weapons.

  “Well, however it happened that the Gate closed again… it was the only luck we had that day,” Ezer said. “Now,” he continued, standing to address them in what Vannia thought of as his Members-of-the-Board tone, “it’s time to figure out: what next.”

  They all nodded pensively. All except Annie, who had been very quiet and reserved since the battle.

  Only she and McKey had been there with Monday at the end, Wallace thought. And Helen’s still too injured to tell us anything.

  As if that thought had summoned her, though, McKey stepped out on the balcony to a chorus of greetings and concern. She waved them all off.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I think I’ll skip sparring with the Sae for a bit. But, honestly, I’m feeling much better.”

  Wallace nodded, smiling, and stood up so she could have his seat.

  “I’m glad you’re better, uh… Helen,” he said. “I can go back to my studies now, if you like.”

  “No, no,” she waved away the idea. “You’re on the varsity team now, like it or not.”

  He smiled even more broadly and took a seat on the wall near Annie.

  They chatted with her for a few minutes, filling her in on the tactics used against the raids. They let her know that there still had been no sign of Kendra.

  “Who knows,” said Vannia. “She might have taken the opportunity to go back into seclusion. I don’t think she’d ever really decided to join a Domain. Not that I knew of.”

  Wallace nodded. “I don’t think she had. She was somewhat suspicious of us all.”

  “Or she may have been killed or taken in the attack,” Fayton said. Nods all around confirmed that all the others had entertained that possibility, too.

  “I hope that’s not the case,” Ezer said. “And that she’s fine wherever she is. But we have more pressing issues to resolve at the moment.”

  “More pressing issues,” Vannia said in her best stuck-up-Warden voice. And, for the first time since the attack, Annie actually chuckled.

  “Actually, there is one of those ‘pressing issues’ we can take care of right now,” the woman from Flux said.

  “What’s that?” Fayton asked.

  “Wallace? Do you mind lending me a Way for a moment. I need you all to witness something as I recall it.”

  “Certainly.”

  Wallace stood next to Annie and held out his hand. She took it and he placed a Way of Reading at her disposal, and set it to, essentially, broadcast her recollection to everyone there using whatever senses she chose.

  For a moment, Annie was silent, her eyes closed as she concentrated on a specific memory. Then they all heard, as clearly as if he was standing right there on the terrace, Monday’s voice:

  “Hieretha shall be the new Librarian. She won’t want it. But there is no one I trust or love so much.”

  It was a short message, but they were all silent for a long time afterwards.

  McKey didn’t cry, though she felt as if she probably would later. She simply nodded and gestured her thanks to Annie as Wallace sat back down.

  After a time, Ezer picked up where he’d left off.

  “We are now in open conflict between the Seven,” he said gravely. They’d all known as much, but his saying it out loud made it more real.

  “The two Houses arrayed against us are, by far, the best at making war. Earth is simply mighty, ancient and very, very hard to kill. For Blood, fighting is part and parcel of their Ways. And, somehow, either the Clans have gathered against us on the order of the combined Talismae, or Senbi himself has managed to unite them.”

  “Neither of those options makes much sense,” Annie said. “I can’t for the life of me figure out what Blood—either a few Clans or the whole House—stands to gain by this.”

  “Same for Earth,” Fayton agreed. “There is no logic in any of it.”

  The Warden nodded. “I know, I know. But there must be reasons. Maybe bad ones. But until we have more information, we’ll just have to progress with the situation at face value—the Second Reckoner War is upon us.”

  They all sat in silence, letting his words sink in. They knew they were in no immediate danger. They also knew that, soon, the armies in the hills would need to disband. Already fights could be seen breaking out among various Clans and Earth Lords. Between hunger, thirst, boredom and frustration the siege would probably be measured in days, not weeks.

  Still, though. War. They all thought long and hard on that. As far as Wallace knew, none of them there on the balcony had been alive during the Great—now the First—Reckoner War.

  Maybe Vannia, he thought to himself. McKey thinks she may predate the flood. I’m not sure. So caught up in pop culture. That would be odd for an antediluvian. But who knows?

  Either way… I suppose we’re all about to find out what war means for ourselves.

  Not even the excellent coffee could distract them from their own dark, personal thoughts. In fact, it seemed to make them all a bit fidgety and ready for action. Eager to do something, anything, to address the terrible wrong inflicted on the Sanctuary, its inhabitants, and even on the Law itself. They paired off to talk, brainstorming scenarios and avenues of research. They joked darkly about possibly tricking more of the traitors into the Hall of the Gate and then doing something wicked to them. There were words of assurance and words of praise for how some had handled themselves during the attack. There were private commiserations and shared sorrows among all those there.

  All except Niles Fayton. Who was very still.

  Waiting.

  To see what the others would do next.

  * * * * *

  On a hill within sight of the Cathedral Sanctuary, Mirkir sat and looked at the west side of the big, stone, half-cake thing. He’d seen the army rush into the east half, and then rush out. He’d followed them around to the west and watched as they’d tried a variety of attacks and Ways in an attempt to get back in.

  He had no idea what this was all about.

  Which was fine. He was never interested in the big picture.

  On his scale of events, however, he was both pleased and puzzled.

  Pleased, because he’d found the Blood Thane who’d eluded him on the Narrows. Pleased because he had given the man a very thorough biting. Pleased because that had led to another chase and several more excellent excuses to use his sharp, stony fangs.

  Puzzled because, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the hill above the half-cake thing.

  Hayyel had found him there the day after the first, big battle. He wasn’t much of a fighter, the bird gargoyle. But his eyesight was excellent.

  “Coming home?” his kin had asked.

  “Not yet,” Mirkir had answered. “Soon maybe.”

  “I stay?”

  “No. Go to garden. I will come soon. Maybe.”

  Hayyel had cawed acceptance of the order, flying back home to watch over an empty and boring garden.

  Which chore he would have been fine with himself. Watching and waiting is what he did best.

  But now, for some reason, he was… interested. Attracted to a purpose other than biting a specific, obnoxious person or the occasional chasing of squirrels and pigeons.

  It was not a feeling he understood. It was not a feeling he enjoyed.

  But he was, as it were, quite a solid creature. And if he felt like this big rock thing was important, he was going to stick with it until, well… until something about the situation changed. Either he would become uninterested or he’d figure out what it was that had attracted his hitherto nonexistent attention.

  It almost felt as if a new master had told him, Stay here and watch this.

  But he’d had no orders. He had no master. Technically, any Earth Reckoner could call upon his services. Technically, he should always head back to the garden in the absence of
any clear orders. Technically, he shouldn’t have saved the confused man from the farm-place. Technically, he shouldn’t have bit that Blood without orders.

  Mirkir didn’t really know the word “technically.” But if he had, his thought would have been:

  Bite your ‘technically.’ I watch what I want now.

  * * * * *

  It had hurt. A lot. A whole lot. But only for the absolute shortest amount of time that something can register as pain. Then…

  It wasn’t cold. That was a surprise. She had been so sure it would be cold.

  It wasn’t dark. But it wasn’t really light. It was just

  not. and it was very

  still.

  Nothing to see. Nothing to hear. Nothing to tether thoughts to. Just like in the Cathedral, she felt as if she should be frightened. But she wasn’t. Because that feeling would have been something.

  Maybe a minute or two. Maybe a week. It didn’t feel very long to her before she realized she hadn’t even though about not thinking in some time. She tried singing songs to herself, but she barely remembered what music sounded like. She tried counting or doing math sums. But you can’t count nothing more than once. So, after a few tries, she stopped trying.

  Now I’m not even not thinking about not thinking, she thought with a silent not-chuckle.

  Floating. Sleeping? Maybe. Maybe not even that.

  Just…

  not.

  Finally, she knew she was near the edge of the ability to think at all. The place where even thoughts and self finally become still.

  That’s OK. It’s time.

  It’s time.

  The part of her that thought about thinking began to dissolve like mist. Then like something less than mist. Like not even the idea of mist anymore.

  Hanging at the border of nothing and less than nothing, she was about to let go of the final thread connecting her to anything that had even had a name for “nothing” when she heard one word spoken clearly across the silent, still, gray-not-gray expanse:

  Daughter.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Andy Havens is a writer, poet and gamer. He sings while doing the dishes. He plays the ukulele and the mountain dulcimer (not while doing dishes). He lives in Columbus, Ohio, USA. He prefers basset hounds as pets.

  He is one-third of the “Chris and Andy Show,

  Now With 100% More Dan.”

  He has perfect hair.