by Brandon Barr
He kept walking.
Aven realized why Rueik had seemed so on edge. He recalled the Missionary’s own words. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”
Aven got it. Fear made you think irrationally.
The rational answer was that Pike had simply gone to the kitchen for food, or couldn’t sleep, and went out to pace the halls, but no matter how likely that answer was, Aven couldn’t stop the questions from coming.
Why would Pike leave his room so late at night? Or was it someone else who had been in his room? Was it Zoecara?
Had she tampered with his mind?
CHAPTER 29
ZOECARA
Prince Damien’s residence was within the Royal Palisade. As a Guardian, Zoecara had unquestioned access to this area. The Court Academy, the library, the Hall of Genealogy, and the dozens of official chambers were all accessible to her. The entire edifice was one of the greatest primworld accomplishments on record. It was a structure so vast that, resting atop the entire palisade with all its official halls and rooms, were the castle living spaces of half the Royal men and women in city. Spacious and luxurious manors that stretched like a mountain range into the sky. Sailors traveling to the Royal City could see the castle long before they saw the land it sat upon.
This would be her fifth visit to Damien’s domicile. She always made sure to conceal her destination by stopping at a cubby in the library to pretend to read a few pages, waiting to see if anyone came in pursuit. Then she would take the rarely used passageway to the orator’s chamber, which was linked by an elaborate stairway to the residences above.
Damien was the key to the heart of the opposition, which had resisted the signing of the Guardian’s charter from the beginning. The opposition was a crucial component, for after the Guardian Tower was a heap of rubble, she would be left the sole representative of the order. She would reveal truths and lies about the Guardians that would prick and inflame every sore point that even the quorum majority who embraced the charter would find distasteful. Damien was her way into the quorums. And he had been a perfect pick.
Her first visit to Damien, she’d voiced frustration at his continued attempts to overthrow the charter in the Hall of Discourse where the three quorums came together to plead and argue, then cast their votes. She had come specifically to Damien because he held every puzzle piece she needed. He was one of the most powerful members of the opposition, but also one of the youngest. And just as important, he was sincere and principled and a bachelor. If he were a pot of stew, then he had just the right flavors.
That first encounter had been pivotal. Damien had been winsome and respectful, and when she set her arguments up to be crushed by the opposition’s best reasoning, Damien followed through and passionately dismantled them. She’d left that day feigning confusion, and noted Damien’s excitement at her near conversion. Psychologically, to change another person’s point of view on a dearly held belief was one of the most intimate experiences two humans could have. By the end of the next visit, she had become his ally. And the last two encounters between them were long, lasting into the early hours of morning as they found themselves talking about each other’s lives just as much as they talked of the charter. She was proud of the character she’d created for him. Tonight, it was time to put away subtlety and take a risk. All the small, endearing, moments together needed to pay off.
He was the key to severing the Guardian’s return after tomorrow’s destruction. And if she navigated tonight well, she hoped to solidify her power here on Loam.
“Missionary Zoecara, what a pleasant surprise,” said the butler, issuing her inside. The fatherly servant looked at her in the light of a hand-held candelabra. “What’s happened? Why the tears young lady?”
“Please,” Zoecara said. “May I speak to the prince? It’s urgent.”
When Prince Damien arrived in his night robe, his short hair was a curly mess. His handsome face was edged with genuine worry and his gorgeous lips were parted, poised to comfort her.
“Zoecara, what’s happened?” His voice was warm, full of concern.
She stood beside the candelabra the butler had left, and placed a hand over her mouth, attempting to compose herself. The prince answered her wordless beckoning, and reached out and held her in his arms.
She breathed out heavy, panting breaths, her lips not far from his ears. Breaths that could easily be misinterpreted.
“It’s Karience,” she said. “I shouldn’t have spoken up, but I couldn’t help myself. I said one thing in defense of the opposition and…it started an avalanche. By the end, I had confessed I stood with the opposition. I even told her about you.”
Damien pulled away just far enough to look at her, but his hands remained strong against her back. Zoecara met his gaze with a fierce, spirited anger emanating through her tearful eyes.
“The Empyrean is as closed-minded as your quorum head, Queen Nira,” said Zoecara. She smiled weakly. “And her arguments are just as flatulent.”
Damien smiled, then laughed. “Your courage amazes me,” he said. “You are an amazing woman. An amazing person. What makes you different than most is your willingness to listen. Do you remember that first time we met?”
“Yes,” said Zoecara. “I left that night so scared. You shook my entire foundation.”
“You allowed yourself to be vulnerable. A very rare virtue. Zoecara, that night you shook me as well. I had never met another person so willing to listen to different perspective. You made me realize how stubborn I could be. That I need to put aside my responses and counter arguments until I fully hear out the person I disagree with. That one night has changed my life. My relationships with the pro-Guardian majority has become more cordial and complex. And I have you to thank for that.”
Zoecara hid the pleasure his words brought her. He was so perfect. A man like Damien would only continue to rise in power, and she needed him like a parasite needed a host. To feed off of his integrity and good standing until she was strong enough to stand by her own strength.
Zoecara turned her face away, a fresh round of tears coming. “There’s more. Karience is stripping me of my title. She says if my allegiances have changed, there’s no place for me here. She said she is going to ship me offworld with a recommend that I be removed from the order.”
Damien drew her in again, and once in his arms she let any hint of weakness taper off from her voice. “Loam has grown on me,” she said, her tone a mix of anger and warmth. “Its people, and the simple beauty of life here, it is so different than the upworld I came from. I feel like I was just beginning to call this place home. And for that, I have you to thank. Your kindness to me and your friendship.”
His hands moved warmly upon her back. “Zoecara, if you want to stay, I won’t let them take you.”
Zoecara pressed her face into his firm shoulder. “Don’t,” she sighed. “It’s impossible. They have too much power. They’re too strong.”
“They have power, but they are still limited. This is not their world yet.” He tilted back to look into her eyes. “Will you trust me?”
Her mouth parted, and she looked up at him with all the trust and love within her written hungrily upon her face. “Why wouldn’t I? You are the most trustworthy man I’ve ever known.” Her eyes held fixed on his, pulling him in, calling to him. “You’ve changed my world, Damien. I see everything differently because of you.”
Damien’s hand ran up the side of her face. Her eyes, her parted lips, they screamed for him to come. His head dipped down and their lips met, his pressing softly into hers, delicious, tender. It was just a moment, and then he lingered intimately close, his face warming her skin. She exhaled with a shudder, her breath washing over him, calling him back.
“Damien.” Her words barely audible. “What does this mean?”
“It means my feelings for you are far more than for a friend.”
She looked into his eyes for a moment, like a girl lost in a dream, then shifted her eyes away, overwhelmed.
>
“You should stay here tonight,” said Damien.
“Stay?” she whispered.
“My castle is yours for as long as you want. I’ll have a room prepared for you.”
Responses came to mind, but she forced herself to go slow. She’d learned a valuable lesson from Rueik. If she wanted this man to make her a queen of Loam, he was the one who would have to vanquish her, and not the other way around. She was the clay and he the sculptor.
Whether sooner or later, be it before or after their future marriage, she would bed him, and there her control would be solidified. In the same way she fulfilled his longing to persuade others of his cause, she would fulfill his fantasy of being a man to a woman. She, the innocent beauty enraptured by his every touch.
She would esteem him, validate his causes, give him space when he needed it, and always, always cry out in love making, as if he were a god.
Again his lips pressed into hers.
One step at a time, she told herself as her mouth moved in tandem with his. She still had tomorrow to worry about…the gathering at Aven’s farm. If it went as well as tonight had, she would be the only Guardian left alive by the end of the day.
_____
WINTER
Winter couldn’t sleep. She sat on the floor before her bedroom window, arm stretched out upon one knee. The lights of Anantium had dwindled down until there were now no candles burning in any of the buildings she could see. Whisper’s tiny legs tickled the wrist of her outstretched hand as it stepped slowly closer.
Her eyelids were beginning to grow heavy. She closed them; the sense of dread that had been haunting her began to ease.
I love him. I cannot lose him. Her thoughts were those of exhaustion. Half a prayer to the Makers, and half consolation for herself. Aven is a part of me. I need him.
His life is just beginning to hold joy and hope; my vision cannot come to pass. It mustn’t.
Her thoughts trailed off into dreamlike images. Vague, wistful. A scene from their childhood. Aven laughing under a canopy of trees. Him sitting and talking with her in her room as she weaved a crown of twigs together under candlelight.
Blood gushed and spattered on a metallic floor.
Two legs, severed at the thigh, fell from a hulking shadow.
Winter’s heart pounded, and her mind raced awake but it wasn’t a dream to be chased away.
The massive head lowered to the floor and gingerly pinched one of the legs between its lips, then spasmed forward, the leg disappearing within the cavernous mouth. The creature’s sagging throat rolled as it swallowed.
Winter grabbed her stomach and was vaguely conscious that she was vomiting, but her vision held her mind’s eye on the monster. It stared at her. She wanted to turn away, but it was not possible.
Slowly the monster faded from sight, and she had a sense of being pushed, then plummeting down toward a thick canopy of green. The ragged outlines of giant leaves like serrated saws rushing up to meet her.
She screamed.
The roar of the wind in her ears grew deafening, then she hit the fronds and her head made a sickening crack.
All went dark and silent.
CHAPTER 30
AVEN
“This is what my sister will be doing to train?” asked Aven.
Arentiss and Daeymara sat around a small circular table in the Missionary enclave, the late morning light piercing through the windows along the outer wall. The vid screen hung from the ceiling behind them, only now there was just a dark mirrored reflection. No moving images of distant lands and peoples.
“Yes,” said Daeymara. She pressed her thumb against the pages of a thick book and fanned through them. “Six-hundred and forty-seven pages of procedure and case studies.”
“I look forward to assisting your sister in her training,” said Arentiss. “Where is Winter now?”
“Asleep,” said Aven. “She’s not feeling well.”
He wished it was just a sickness, and in a way it was. She’d had another vision, though Winter wouldn’t tell him of it. He’d stayed by her bedside until her breathing became calm, and she fell asleep.
Aven felt a slight touch on his right knee, then another. He put his hand under the table and found small, slender fingers waiting for him. They slid softly into his.
Arentiss wasn’t smiling, but there was a warm glow on her face that made Aven smile.
“I wouldn’t mind training your sister either,” said Daeymara. She looked at Arentiss. “What do you say we split our time with her?”
“You only have a matter of weeks before your mission. It makes little sense for you to start her training, only to leave her. Besides, I am more than capable to handle assisting her myself.”
Aven found himself strangely conflicted inside because of Arentiss’s words. Sad that Daeymara would be leaving soon. She had made an impression on him. He barely knew her, though. Perhaps in her remaining weeks, they could spend more time together.
And Arentiss, he was glad to hear she wanted to help train his sister. Her soft fingers were beginning to feel comfortable in his. She peered at him now, her blue eyes, though beautiful, were difficult to read. He felt certain her needs weren’t purely practical. He saw an underlying passion beneath the surface of her well composed face.
He squeezed her hand and watched the corners of her lips curl up ever so slightly.
The door to the enclave opened, and Karience entered.
“Aven, I am in need of your assistance,” said Karience. “Are you ready for your first duty as an Emissary?”
Aven let go of Arentiss’s hand and stood. “If you believe I’m ready.”
Karience chuckled. “Considering all you have to do is walk through the portal, I think you are proficient enough.”
“Who is he taking?” said Daeymara.
Karience placed a hand on her chest. “He’ll be taking me. I must talk with the Magnus Empyrean on his homeworld, Core 9. Are you ready to go now, Aven?”
“Yes,” he said. “How long will we be gone?”
“A matter of three or four hours,” said Karience.
Her answer relieved him. He didn’t want to be gone from Winter too long, not in the state she was in. And also, tonight he was going to get his farm. Just the thought made his chest burn with pride.
Aven came alongside Karience as she turned for the door.
“May I have permission to go along?” asked Daeymara.
“And may I also?” chimed in Arentiss.
Karience pivoted around. “I suppose one of you can join. Arentiss, you accompanied Aven last time, so come along Daeymara, and quickly. I want this to be a short trip”
Aven looked back at Arentiss as he passed through the door.
Arentiss held a gaze as sharp as an arrow tip. It was aimed with precision at the back of Daeymara’s head.
CORE
…top of her class, astute, analytical, ambitious. Her strengths far outweigh her flaws, of which I know of only one. She was diagnosed as a child with a mild social inversion disorder. Far from hampering her talent, I believe it has caused her to excel, with but a small price to her relationships. In her pursuit of joining a Missionary enclave, Arentiss has my highest recommendations.
-Jeund-Rue, Instructor of Psychology, (Transmission to Higelion, Magnus Empyrean of Sector 54, per Bridge Missions Director, Missionary enclave placement)
…Winter is a grave threat and Karience may not like the outcome of the Sanctor’s visit. If the Oracle is not delivered, we will be forced to remove her by other means.
Let us hope for deliverance. But if it is out of reach, or if the Sanctor feels it will require too much time, then we must be ready for the alternative.
I’ve looked at Karience’s psych file. She is intuitive and intelligent. No matter how good our assassin, she may suspect the truth, and it will be your duty to assuage her questions.
In other words, if Winter is to have a funeral, you will need to attend.
-Sentinel Cosimo,
(private transmission to Higelion, Magnus Empyrean of Sector 54)
CHAPTER 31
DAEYMARA
It was Daeymara’s first time on Core 9. After following Karience through the portal to her homeworld, Night 2, they’d gone to Bridge and acquired a Core 9 Emissary to take them to the place they were now.
Daeymara followed close behind Aven, as Karience lead the way through the security zones. Core, like all the upworlds, had a wide swath of land cut out around their portal, which was on the side of a mountain. The mountain was completely barren; the natural growth of the surrounding peaks had been cut down and exterminated, leaving only rock.
A sheer path led down from the portal to the city below. Portions of the jungle-entwined metropolis rose out of the dense green foliage. Spires jutted up half as tall as the mountains, cylindrical, and plated with windows.
The wind on this barren rock tore into ones ears. Daeymara watched it whip Aven’s short hair about, and couldn’t help but wonder what her own hair would look like by the time they reached their destination below.
Aven looked back at her, checking to make sure she hadn’t fallen behind. He gave her a quick smile before turning around.
His smile was so kind. So strangely kind. And his reservations about sex were…affecting her. The peculiar feelings she had surrounding him excited her. She’d heard about similar things happening when upworlder’s traveled to primworlds. The unique traits to primworlds—their traditions, their way of life—they often echoed in a primal way within an upworlder’s soul, beckoning them back to a time when their own people had held to such ways of life.
Loam hadn’t been especially endearing. She had never been to a primworld until joining the enclave there, and though she’d been on Loam for well over a year, she hadn’t met anyone like Aven and Winter, farmers from beyond Anantium.