by Bridget Ladd
I blushed at the kind, yet somewhat intimate gesture. My lips could still feel the way his had felt on mine in the Requiem. Sure and confident. My cheeks feeling exceedingly warmer, I quickly turned my face away and waited for him to continue.
After securing my tiered elbow guards and bracers into place, he then moved over to my right side. The right side always took a fractional amount of time as compared to the left. There was only the bracer and small shoulder pauldron to see to, and yet he still took his time as though he was savoring every little detail, making sure everything was perfect.
I shifted on my feet, feeling anxious to get on with things and yet deep down I felt calmed, moved by this kind gesture of camaraderie.
I wondered if the warriors he spoke of were ever comprised of both male and female fighters? Or between those who cared deeply for one another regardless of gender. If they did, I can imagine the act of armoring each other before battle had other motivations behind it. I bit my lip at the thought and tried to push it away, fast. I knew Xander was reading every emotion that crossed me now.
How could he not?
His face was hidden from me as he worked from my shins upwards, making sure that each strap was pulled tightly and secured properly. He then reached for my breastplate and stood from his crouch. His eyes sought mine as he rose, a thousand words hidden beneath his gaze. A thousand words that told me he had read me—sensed my lapse in thought.
Bloody hell. I averted my eyes to the floor as his face came close. I could feel his warmth as he reached around to grab hold of the straps at my back. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw his mouth curve in that knowing, slanted smile of his. Maybe I was imagining it, but thinking better of it, I probably wasn’t.
Xander made sure the spiraling tree of my breastplate was in its proper position before he stepped to my back and secured each and every clasp.
Taking a deep breath, I tested the room between my girth and was satisfied—but also pleasantly surprised he neither secured it too loosely nor too tightly. Applying my breastplate was always so troublesome. The act was usually comprised of a lot of fussing and mumbled curses before the armor was finally adjusted to my liking.
Xander forced me to spin on my heels suddenly, making me look at him. His hands rested on the sides of my arms and even through the armor, I could feel his presence soak into my skin, filling me with strength and courage.
“One last thing.” He reached down and took hold of my holstered axe belt, swinging it around my waist and deftly catching it with his other hand. He ran the strap through the buckle, locking it into place with a satisfying tug.
He grinned and looked up at me. “It appears I’ve gotten more efficient at notching a belt over the years.”
“So it appears,” I agreed with a smile, thinking of the small boy who fumbled to help his father prepare for battle.
I stepped back, looking over my armor and appraising his skilled hand. Looking up again, I smiled my thanks, finally able to take a breath now that he was finished. The tension of the moment was over, yet the sacredness of our actions lingered with every movement, every breath.
We closed the door to the hut and looked to each other before stepping out to face whatever challenges the day threw at us.
Together. And as one.
Chapter 40
Farewells ~ Forgotten Memories
Dex called out to us in greeting as we rounded the edge of the trail that led from the Compound. “Solve that riddle yet?” he asked, rubbing his hands together that ended with a small clap. He took one look at me before he turned and started backpedaling down the path in front of us. “Judging by your face, I’d say yes.” He sighed. “I’ll walk you there if you like?” he added. “The citizens are being directed to the amphitheater as we speak. Briggins built some nifty high-rise seating so views won’t be obscured. Manic credit waste’n buffoon he is if you ask me.” Dex scoffed and tilted the tip of his hat further over the bridge of his nose.
“Good thing no one asks you, Dex, otherwise you would’ve been found face down in a ditch long ago,” Xander chimed in at my side.
Dex shrugged guiltily. “I like takin’ my chances. Makes me feel dangerous.”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Then maybe next time you should sign up for the Barrage instead of boozing it up on the corner of fifth. Sector 3 could use a good fighter like yourself.”
Dex grunted, throwing his hands into the air. “Man’s gotta run his business. All good anarchist plans need someone on the inside.”
“Dex!” I scolded. “Keep it down.”
Dex gave me a look. “Or what? I’ll give you away?” His eyebrows lifted. “You made your intentions pretty clear last night.”
“Briggins murdered my mother. Tortured and killed my maidservant.” It was all the response I needed.
Dex nodded somberly before falling into step at my side.
We took the less traveled paths that led to Sector 9, hoping to avoid the crowds. We came upon only a few stragglers who also knew of the hidden routes. When they saw us, they stopped and bowed their heads, respectfully allowing us to pass as they stood reverently in our wake.
“The people adore you,” Dex said as we walked further down the street.
Looking down at my hands, I spoke through the clot that was beginning to form in my throat. “Surely they’re just excited to see us fight. After this is all over, if I happen to survive it, the admiration will disperse,” I said flatly.
Dex shook his head and smiled. “Don’t be so modest. Rumor is they’ve not seen a braver Mistress since Lady Ever—”
“My grandmother. I know,” I interrupted him, my nerves forcing my tongue. The news of my mother’s murder had turned me mean, all hard edges. I sighed and tried not to think of the overwhelming responsibility that now resided upon my shoulders.
“I only aim to prove my worth,” I amended quietly to him in an apology, my thoughts drifting to a place I dare not go. If I planned to survive the day, I had to focus on the battle that was to come. Nothing more.
Absently, I picked at a bit of dirt under my nail until the white crescent reappeared beneath. I felt something lightly brush against the side of my face, making me jerk in surprise. It was Xander, a look of worry encased within his gaze.
“Lily, everything is going to be all right.” His eyes assessed me, never leaving my side. “One breath. One step at a time. You may be the one with the position of worth, but know that you are never alone.”
Swallowing, I realized his words were more comforting to hear than I would’ve thought. Taking a satisfying breath, I nodded my thanks, embarrassed that I could get so overwhelmed so quickly. It made me look weak, vulnerable even.
—No. I was being too harsh on myself. My vulnerabilities and weaknesses make me who I am. Showed everyone, including myself, that I was no better than the rest of the citizens. That even though I was a bit Abnormal, I was still human.
Our pace slowed and I glanced up just in time to see Dex move to the side, exposing the large opening that overlooked an enormous concrete stairwell.
The ruined and desolate landscape of Sector 9 stood beyond.
The half-crumbling once magnificent buildings and homes made my chest hitch painfully. So long had it been since I first saw this from within the safety of my father’s carriage—a site of horror and sadness that brought shame to my cheeks.
No. No. No. I shook my head as a strange, sinking feeling, crept up from beneath my skin. I caught sight of one particular spiraling and broken clock tower that seemed . . . familiar—something I wouldn’t have seen from the lowered height of a carriage those many years ago.
I’ve been here before.
Looking away, I deserted the feeling. Ashamedly, I, as well as the rest of Prosper, chose to block this memory out; to continue our lives as if the Purge never happened.
“Do you often think of Sector 9? The way it used to be—from before?” I asked Xander quietly, returning my eyes to the horror before u
s.
“Every day,” he responded softly. “It was my home.”
Briggins was hoping to rekindle the fear and subservient terror back into the heart of Prosper by making us fight here. Maybe he did. Though, maybe, he awakened something else.
“That night, I had snuck back into the city,” Xander added. He turned, looking at me. His gaze was potent, brimming with a significance I didn’t understand. “I was only thirteen. Thirteen when I watched my Sector burn to the ground.”
The Council wanted us to never forget, and after this day, I’m sure we never would. A memory to be in our favor and not in the Council’s as they saw it. Did Briggins have the power to act upon such threats? If he did, the people of Prosper won’t stand for it. They’re a different group from what they were in the past. They harbored ill will and suspicion towards the Council and no longer will fall prey to their lies and tricks. They tire of being the mortar in which the Council walks upon; the hearthstone to their successes.
The faces of those who were already taking their seats below us confirmed my beliefs. No joy or excitement exuded from them. Only mistrust and disdain. They only partook in the viewing of the Barrage because they were expected to, and because they longed to think that maybe this year would be different. That maybe someone would finally break the tradition and change their lives for the better.
“Sad isn’t it?” Dex asked from my side, startling me.
I had been so lost in thought, I’d almost forgotten both he and Xander were still there.
“Very,” I struggled to say, my throat suddenly very dry.
“You cannot let this unnerve you. Let the anger, the hurt, all of it guide you, but not control,” Xander said, looking darkly across the broken landscape. His expression was cool and calculating, giving away no emotions. Though I knew the truth: he was affected by this place just as much as I. Or more.
I tore my eyes away, placing my hands to rest at my hips, fingers curled around the handles of my axes. “Let’s just finish this,” I said with a determination I was becoming more familiar with as of late.
Dex smiled proudly, ruffled my hair, and slapped Xander across his armored shoulder. Stepping away he took a good look at the both of us and grumbled loudly.
“Oh, bloody bones, give a man a hug will ya’?” I winced as he came forward and embraced the both of us, squishing my cheek against his chest. He released us shortly after, brushing down his shirt, clearing his throat, and acting as if nothing awkward had just happened.
“Is that moisture I see on your cheek, Dex? My god man you’ve become a softie,” Xander cajoled with good-nature, though still, I could tell he was trying hard to not show his own inner turmoil.
Dex stiff eyed Xander and huffed.
Xander smiled, a genuine smile that nearly reached his eyes despite the bleakness of Sector 9 looming before us. “Thank you. For everything, Dex,” he said sincerely.
Dex cleared his throat before he and Xander clasped forearms. “Yeah, well . . . try not to go gettin’ yourselves killed.” He looked away momentarily. “I’ve got a lot of credits ridin’ on your backs.” He’d said this to us so many times before, that now it’d become his own personal mantra.
Xander directed his attention back towards me. “You ready to do this?”
I sighed. “No, but what choice do I have?”
“You don’t. But let’s pretend you do. Let’s end this.”
Chapter 41
The Final Battle ~ Sector 9
One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . . One . . . two . . . three . . . .
“Lily?” I heard Xander’s calm voice break through from beyond the panic.
“Just breathe,” he spoke softly by my side. “We can do this. We stay together. If we happen to separate, we fight our way back to each other. If something happens to me, never lose sight of the goal. Not the Key. Not finding the others. Only surviving. You understand?”
I nodded quickly, not allowing myself to think about that possible outcome. If something should happen to him.
“What’s our plan?” I asked with a wavering voice, hating myself for trying to prepare mentally only moments before the fight.
“We don’t have one, and that’s how I’d like to keep it. It’s too unpredictable out there to get tied up with prior logistics. I saw how you worked your way around the Shadow Kanes. Today is no different, trust your instincts.”
My instincts were telling me to run away while I still had the chance. I cleared my throat. It was dryer than the dirt beneath my feet. “What about the Key?”
Xander looked at me hard, his eyes tight. “Forget the Key. Focus on staying alive.” Xander shifted his weight in his armor. “You’ll make an easy target if you’re the first to go running up and grabbing at it. Let the others do the work for us.”
The thundering applause from the audience shook the roof above as we stood waiting behind the door. I blanched and gripped my shield tighter. I felt sick to my stomach, overwhelmed by the responsibility and pressure.
This was it. Nothing else mattered.
If I failed today, I failed everyone.
Xander’s look of worry snapped me out of my terror. His brow was furrowed and he looked . . . angry.
“Lily, what’s wrong? Never have I seen you like this,” he scolded quietly. “Your energy is . . . unbalanced, erratic.” Xander closed his eyes and looked down, his voice steady and even. “I know you’re terrified of failing, but know this: You will go out there and you will fight. You will prove your worth and you Will. Not. Die.”
A furious passion lit up the gray to become now silver in his eyes.
I had never seen such disappointment and fear linger within his gaze. Fear for me. He gripped my shoulders and shook me slightly, urging me to find my sense. “Remember your people who suffer. Remember Mrs. Fawnsworth. Remember your mother. Do not give in to this fear—” He dropped his hands from me. “—I will not allow it.”
The plains of his face were tight with disapproval as he looked towards the closed door.
Never had I seen Xander like this before a battle either. He was always calm. Always focused. Now he had a fire within that rekindled the one inside my own chest.
I slid on my helm and gripped my axes with a new determination. A determination that was uniquely made within me, different from all the others which only seemed to last until a swift wind of doubt whisked it away.
This determination was red hot and potent. One that intended to stay. Xander was right, I was losing myself. Losing my nerve. Without it today, I would surely die.
I shook my head and bared my teeth behind the bronzed barrier of my helm.
“I. Am. Ready,” I said just as the last murmurs of the announcer echoed into silence, and the blare of the starting horn blew.
~
The ground crunched beneath our boots as we traversed over the broken bits of concrete and rubble. I carefully avoided the glass shards that littered the ground and the tattered chair that lay tilted in our path. With each step, Xander and I slowly and patiently entered into Sector 9, painfully aware of all the hazards this day could throw at us.
I winced when I saw a dirty doll trapped under a piece of roofing, a child’s shoe lying next to it. Stay focused . . . I urged myself, not willing to let my emotions consume me in their entangling web.
Xander glanced over, carefully stepping over the doll and shoe. He remained silent, but I could tell his demeanor turned darker as he sidestepped in front of me, assessing the empty street before us.
The sky was overcast and hazy. A rim of brightly back-lit clouds bloomed in the northern part of the sky like a glimmer of hope waiting to be liberated. I cautiously looked around, feeling the sweat gather at the nape of my neck, not seeing nor hearing the presence of our enemies.
Xander with blades held at the ready, nodded his chin towards the north-eastern side of the Sector. “The largest tower is the manufacturer’s building, Zone 3. I’d suspect the Key to be there. That’s if Bri
ggin’s information can be trusted,” he said, his voice low.
I nodded. Our slow, hesitant creeping—waiting for either Percival and Fin or Scottie and Giles to show and surprise us—was beginning to wear on my nerves. I was becoming more and more paranoid with every boot crunch upon the gravel or whistling sound of the wind as it passed through the deserted buildings at our sides.
The longest ever recorded final Barrage battle had lasted for almost two days. The instigators ran around in circles and kept hidden only to finally attack once their opponents overtaxed themselves and became unfocused. There was no way I wanted to spend more than a few hours out here. The sooner we finished this, the better.
“Xander,” I whispered, impatient to get his attention.
He acknowledged that I wanted to speak to him and pulled me behind a flipped over bit of once elegant-looking staircasing. The delicate wrought iron designs of the hand railing, though rusted, still appeared to retain their original shape. How many beautiful minds had ran their hands across this very railing? It was imbued with the vibrancy of the past which humbled me, yet set my resolve into a new focus. Mrs. Fawnsworth had told me that Sector 9 was once the most sought after Sector to live in during the past. That the citizens were a highly intelligent group who craved knowledge. This fact, I’ve come to believe, was sadly the catalysis to their downfall.
“Xander, we cannot simply hide—peeking around corners all day, waiting for one of them to blindside us. You’re the fastest of anyone here. Can you fly overhead? See if you can draw them out and I’ll distract them while you go for the Key.”
Xander shook his head, unwilling to accept my tactic. “Stuff it, Lily. I’m not leaving your side.” His voice was still low, distorted beneath his helm.
My brows squinted in annoyance.
He looked at me. “If I do a flyby—it will help us spot them, yes, but it’ll also make your positioning known. I will not leave you vulnerable like that.”