by Beth Hodgson
As Ayera started to ascend the grand steps into the citadel, a court servant dressed in red robes came to meet her. It was High Justice Belinda’s servant; Ayera could tell by the color and fashions of the robe.
“Empress Ayera, we have been expecting you,” he said, bowing.
“You have?” Ayera asked. She began to walk behind him as he led her the rest of the way up the steps. “How did you know I was coming?”
“I will let the High Court explain,” he stated. He led her down the main hall and through the doors into the audience chamber.
This was Ayera’s first time in the High Court’s audience chamber. The other times she had visited the citadel was when her father was on business for their sector. Never, during her reign, had she ever had to journey to the High Court on official business. The chamber was circular, with white ivory pillars surrounding the room. Half of the room had six white thrones, equally spaced, with nothing but the giant ivory pillars and the open blue sky behind them. Clouds floated gently by in the sky’s backdrop.
The High Court justices were already seated upon their thrones. A large colored jewel was set within each of the throne’s backing, making it appear that the gem was floating above each justice’s head. There was one jewel per color to match the justices’ respective colors. However, not every justice perfectly matched their color, as there was no one to represent green and violet magic. In those thrones sat an extra blue and red justice. Two reds, one orange, one yellow, and two blues.
Ayera entered their presence, kneeling to the floor. Her head was bowed so low that it kissed the ground, her hair and kimono flowing behind her.
“High Court Justices,” Ayera addressed them.
“Empress Ayera. We know why you seek us,” High Justice Belinda called out. Her long scarlet hair flowed down her sides, and her eyes burned with fire, contrasting with her porcelain skin.
“Then you know what I will ask of the High Court,” Ayera replied.
“Yes, we do,” murmured High Justice Borgen, his voice trembling with the onslaught of age. His long blue hair and beard was more faded than the last time Ayera had seen him. “But we will have to deny your request.”
Still kneeling on the floor, Ayera’s head shot up to glance at the justices, her dark eyes darting to each of them. For a moment, she thought that they were mistaken about why she had come.
“Forgive me, High Justices, but I don’t think you understand. Ikaria has been consuming other gifteds’ blood! Auron is sure that she is behind all of the gifted losing their magic! My sector needs reinforcements to put a stop to her!”
“We understand perfectly well, which is why we must deny your request,” answered High Justice Tyllos of the Yellow. “I have been granted a vision recently from the God of Light.” He gave her a concerned look. “Ikaria is indeed behind the disappearance of magic.”
“Then you know the peril our world is in,” Ayera declared boldly. “If Ikaria succeeds, she will destroy the future of this earth and all of the magic within it!” Ayera gave a skeptical look to Tyllos, as if he had not heard her properly.
Tyllos gave Ayera a warm smile, his golden eyes lit up like the heavens. “No, child, that will not happen, I can assure you.”
“But Auron’s vision, it told him so,” Ayera countered, turning to face them all in disbelief. She couldn’t understand why they didn’t feel threatened. “We need to stop her now before any more magic disappears. Don’t you see? My sister is seeking the gift of the black!”
“Gift of the black?” High Justice Perserine of the Orange repeated incredulously, then gave a laugh. “There is no such thing.”
“Auron has foreseen it. You know that his visions always turn out to be accurate!”
“Perhaps Auron is being influenced by your sister with secular books,” Tyllos of the Yellow said. “In The Spectrum, there is no mention of the gift of the black, therefore his vision, by all accounts, is false. It is not uncommon for a priest to stray from time to time, to be influenced by worldly things.”
“Auron?” Ayera questioned. “He is the most pious man I know out of all the world sectors. I assure you, High Justice, he is not influenced by my sister, nor the darkness.”
The justices looked at each other, then Belinda spoke. “Empress, I am sure you did not come here to squabble with us regarding Auron’s character.”
“Forgive me, High Justice,” Ayera said, bowing and lowering her head. “I am desperate to save my gifted from losing their magic.”
“I understand your fervor for your people,” Belinda said with a nod.
“Then you will send reinforcements?”
“No. Like Tyllos said before, your request is denied. This is not a problem for the High Court. Rather, it is your problem.”
“What?” Ayera shook her head, shocked at what she was hearing.
“We feel that you must deal with your sister, as she falls under your jurisdiction. And indeed, by Tyllos’s account of his vision, she is making the magic disappear in your sector, but she will not destroy our world as Auron has predicted, with some mythical magic that does not exist. No, Tyllos has foreseen that the future will continue despite your sister’s meddling behavior.
“As a precaution, we do not wish to aimlessly send our gifted, nor any other gifted from the other sectors, only to have them succumb to your sister’s whims. Many of your gifted have already lost their powers due to your sister running amok, and I’m afraid we don’t have extra gifted to waste on your sister’s menacing behavior.”
Ayera stood there stunned, staring at the justices as they sat on their glorious white thrones, as if they were gods themselves on Earth. But what god would not want to stop the darkness?
Her father’s words rang in her ears. Don’t ever displease the High Court, my daughter. Stay true to them to keep the peace of the sectors… But the world was in peril, and Ayera needed help. What else was she supposed to do?
Pushing the thoughts of her father’s wishes aside, Ayera looked around at them, questioning her devotion for the first time. “And what if I cannot stop her with the gifted I have? What if she is already too powerful? I don’t even know if she has the ability to use her violet magic, but what if she does? Then what happens? Auron thinks that she will travel back in time to collect the gift of the green now that she has acquired the blue gift.”
“That is your problem, not the High Court’s,” Belinda said forcefully. “And if she does succeed in collecting green magic, we will then personally stop her here in the future and find someone more suitable to rule in your and your husband’s stead.” Belinda shot her a cold look. “We gave you strong opinions regarding your sister when you first assumed the throne, did we not?”
“Yes, you did.” Ayera nodded in agreement, her eyes lowered. Ayera suddenly felt flustered and angry. The high justices had pressed Ayera early on in her reign about Ikaria being transferred to World Sector Three. But she held her father’s words close to her heart, closer than the words of the justices. She had promised her father and wouldn’t break that promise unless there was a court order, and then she would have to obey.
“If you had followed our advice regarding your sister at the time, none of this would have happened,” Belinda stated coldly.
“Empress Ayera,” High Justice Oriel said softly, his ice-blue hair standing out in contrast with his ebony skin, “we know of your unwavering loyalty to the High Court and the world sectors.” His pale-blue eyes were like darts into Ayera’s soul, but his voice said otherwise. “We would hate to have to remove you from your position as empress.”
Ayera looked at him through watery eyes, confused. They didn’t want to help her. And now they were threatening to take away her rule. Ayera could not lose the throne; her father would never forgive her in the next life. Her family had held on to the throne for many centuries, and she couldn’t be the one that ended their dynasty.
“I wouldn’t want to let the High Court down, as that would sadden me greatly,” Ay
era said smoothly, wiping away her tears, her voice remaining confident. “I will ensure we stop Ikaria with our sector’s gifted, however challenging it may be.”
Borgen smiled under his long blue-white beard. “We have faith in you, as you have proven yourself in the past,” he said in a fatherly fashion.
Ayera nodded. She stood up to leave, but she couldn’t help herself. “High Justices, do you know what the gift of the violet does? It would help us prepare more suitably to stop my sister,” Ayera asked, hoping there was some good that came out of her meeting.
“Force and control,” answered Tyllos. “That includes objects and of the mind.”
Ayera’s heart stopped, her mind swimming with a thousand thoughts at once. What if Ikaria had the ability to use her magic already and was controlling the court’s thoughts. Was that how she got the other gifted to comply? What if what Tyllos said was true? That Auron was being influenced by her sister?
Nonsense. Auron is the strongest person I know!
“Please, Empress, be careful,” Tyllos warned.
“I will, High Justice, for all of our sakes,” Ayera said, rising from her position to be escorted out of the hall.
All the way back to her airship, Ayera stared blankly ahead in dismay. The more she thought of her audience with the High Court, the more perplexed and disturbed she felt. Ayera was struggling with the fact that the High Court did not want to send reinforcements to her sector, not wanting to lose any more gifteds’ magic. And if what they said was true, that Ikaria could control people, Ayera would need many more gifted than her sector had to succeed. She needed to overwhelm Ikaria to truly stop her. Surely Ikaria couldn’t control more than several people at once, could she? Ayera hoped that was true. But even so, her request had been denied, and no other sector would be coming to their aid.
As Ayera entered her ship to depart, a thought struck her. Something the justices had said.
If Ikaria had the ability of control and force, then how had she made magic disappear from the gifted who lived? Those who had died—their magic had still been intact. Ikaria likely controlled them, forcing them to die, and consumed their magic to gain their power. But to make magic altogether disappear from those who had lived? With Ikaria’s powers, it did not seem possible. It didn’t fit the description of her magic.
For the first time in her life, Ayera had an ever-so-small inkling that Ikaria was right about the High Court. It was a mere speck, but it was there, festering.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
GREEN
The patterned curtains swayed in the breeze, gently flowing back and forth. From where she lay, Emerald watched them tease the wind that flowed through the open window. The hot mattress stuck to her skin, and any time she moved, the plastic peeled away from her body like a sticky bandage. There were no sheets on the mattress, just the plastic encasing and a simple blanket that had been tossed over her.
Kyle was absent from the bed. Though he was gone, the scent of his body mingled with the aura from their lovemaking, lingering, reminding her of the pleasure that had taken place hours ago before they went to sleep.
Emerald stretched out in satisfaction, smiling to herself. Where did he go? she wondered.
She thought for a moment, then reasoned that he probably went to fetch supplies and to talk with the head man of the camp. Victor. That’s what his name was.
Emerald took in the details of the trailer, intrigued. She and Kyle had entered in the middle of the night, which made it impossible for Emerald to get a good look around. The trailer was tiny, with a few windows decorated with curtains, a small table, a few knickknacks lying about, and a small picture of two people hanging on the wall.
Getting up to inspect it, Emerald realized that the picture was of Kyle when he was a boy, and someone she guessed to be his mother. The woman was quite beautiful, with long light brown hair decorated with heavy golden jewelry. Her clothes were brightly colored, like how Emerald would envision a true gypsy. Even Kyle was dressed in brightly colored garb, something that made Emerald chuckle softly.
Emerald heard the trudging sound of boots climbing the metal steps, then the door swung open.
Kyle appeared at the door, carrying a green canvas backpack, a plastic bin, and a pile of clothes in his arms. He threw the pack to the ground, then tossed the clothes at her.
“Here,” he said curtly through his pursed lips, taking a drag of his smoke. “The women gave me some clothes for you.”
Emerald dug through the pile of clothes, pulling out a pair of black stretch leggings, a black tank top, socks, and a pair of comfortable-looking black combat boots.
“I know it’s nothing fancy like what you’re used to.”
Emerald eyed him for a moment, confused at his sudden coldness. Smiling, she said, “They are more than fine. Please thank the women for me.”
He didn’t answer, just continued to dig through the supplies, pulling out food rations.
What is going on with him?
“I got us some grub,” he said, tossing the rations on the table. “The wasteland folk aren’t known for their cooking, just warning you.” He began to change into new clothes, facing away from her.
Slowly, Emerald eyed him as she neared the table, then sat down, practically inhaling a bread roll and dried meat. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the food hit her lips. Her last meal had been back in Arcadia before Kyle’s show, more than twenty hours ago.
Cautiously, Emerald asked, “Did something happen this morning? Why are you in a foul mood?”
“I never said that I was,” he said defiantly, finishing putting on a clean shirt.
“It is obvious that something is upsetting you,” Emerald stated, not accepting his answer.
Kyle stopped all movement, facing her. “Did you know?” he asked bitterly.
Her heart stopped at the sight of his expression. He was angry.
Unsure of his unfounded anger, Emerald shot him a confused look. “Did I know what?”
“About the experiments.”
Still not following what Kyle was getting at, Emerald became annoyed. “What experiments?”
He leaned into her face, his expression indignant. “The experiments that your father is doing on my people.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about. I do not know of any experiments!”
“Those damn cyborgs are infused with your blood. Don’t tell me that you don’t know anything about that!” he said, raising his voice.
Kyle’s words were like a punch to her gut, hitting her, and hitting her hard. It was like he’d opened the floodgates within her mind, and suddenly everything made sense. The weekly blood samples. That was what her father had been doing with her blood—experimenting and creating cyborgs.
Emerald’s gaze lowered, knowing that she could no longer meet Kyle’s. Her father had used her blood for all the wrong reasons. And now her blood had caused harm to Kyle’s people.
Anger ran through her. Anger at her father. Anger at herself for being so naive. Even Derek had questioned it, because he knew too that it wasn’t right.
“So you do know about it,” Kyle snapped.
Alarmed and sick to her stomach, Emerald remained silent. It was all her fault, everything. If she had never been born with magic, none of this would have ever happened. If only she were stronger of character and had questioned her father more often, perhaps this would have never happened.
“Kyle, I didn’t know about the experimentation. I had no idea,” Emerald whispered in a low voice. “The blood samples, yes, I was aware of it. Of course I was.” Her gaze finally met his. “But my father told me it was to monitor my health.”
“And you didn’t question it? You just gave the blood freely, knowing that you had magic?” Kyle shot back.
“Yes, I did. I never questioned it. Ever,” Emerald whispered. “But I should have.” Tears welled up inside her eyes. She forced them back, trying to hold them in.
“And what about t
he drawing?”
“What drawing?”
“On the warehouse wall. You had to have known what was going on! It was clear as day in the picture!”
Before Emerald got a chance to explain about the strange prophetic magic, she was interrupted.
“Knock, knock!”
Emerald and Kyle turned their attention to the door. Garrett stuck his head in, casting a glance at both of them.
“Did I come at a bad time? I didn’t hear any fucking,” he said jokingly. Emerald shot him a mortified look, while Kyle glared at him.
“What the hell are you doing barging in like this,” Kyle snapped.
“I brought you a couple of filled gas cans, asshole,” Garrett barked at Kyle, then turned to Emerald. “What the hell is up his ass?”
Emerald remained silent. She felt sick, terrible, saddened, confused… and now abandoned, like she had somehow lost Kyle.
“Is it what we talked about this morning?” Garret asked casually.
“Something like that,” Kyle muttered, pushing past him out the door.
After Kyle left, Emerald began to weep quietly. She felt alone, and now she had no one to rely on. It was as though Kyle, who she’d felt united with, had suddenly pulled the connection that held them together.
And her heart ached terribly. She felt lost.
Garrett’s footsteps approached her, and he rested a hand on her shoulder. Emerald couldn’t even muster up the courage to face him. Had Kyle told the others about her magic?
“Please don’t cry, Princess. Kyle’s a real asshole sometimes. If you want, I can go pound some sense into him.” He paused, then continued, “However, I’ll most likely have my ass handed to me, so I’ll need you to promise you’ll patch me up.”
The statement made Emerald laugh in the midst of her sadness. Chuckling while sucking in her tears, she looked at him with bleary eyes. “Thanks, but I really don’t want to make things worse than they are. It’s just a big misunderstanding. I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Emerald smiled at him, putting her hand on his. “I just want to be left alone for a while.”