by HR Moore
*****
The Island was nothing more than a shack really, strips of wood thrown precariously together decades before to form a building initially intended as a warehouse for traded goods. Since then it had been embellished inside and was now laid out over two levels. There was a short, stubby bar on the lower level to the right, bottles of all kinds of mysterious looking liquids balancing perilously on the uneven shelves behind. This level also had a private room behind the bar, ample space for standing, a couple of tall tables, and ledges here and there to place drinks on. One of these ledges jutted out awkwardly, partially obstructing a shady looking passage to the back door, leading to wooden decking and benches overlooking the river beyond. To the left of the door was a set of three squeaky wooden steps that groaned agedly every time a pair of feet touched them. They led to a raised seating area with a series of booths and rough wooden tables that afforded varying degrees of privacy, the walls adorned with weird and wonderful trinkets from those who had ventured into the Wild Lands to trade.
The place was packed. Clearly the news that the Descendants were in town had spread like wildfire, and everyone wanted to know why. Luckily, Cleo had grabbed a booth when her shift had ended, and Bas and Anita pushed their way through the crowd to join her. ‘Before we get into the gossip, let me get you a drink,’ said an overzealous Cleo, by way of a greeting. She flagged down one of the other bartenders and ordered a bottle of Ginger Champagne.
‘What are we celebrating?’ asked Bas, surprised. Ginger Champagne was pretty rare and usually only saved for special occasions. Luckily, being friends with the owner’s favourite bartender and only daughter meant they never had to pay for such luxuries, but still, this was an extravagant move.
‘We’re celebrating my brilliance at extracting the gossip I am about to tell you from one of the Councillors,’ Cleo replied eagerly, carefully annunciating each word to make sure they could all hear and therefore marvel at her achievement. Three glasses were placed on the table and filled with champagne.
‘The gossip mill comes up trumps again,’ Anita commented, wishing that Cleo would just get on with it, but knowing there wasn’t the remotest chance of that. But the promise of gossip seemed to lift her mood a little.
‘Indeed it does,’ said Cleo, taking a moment to build some suspense, savouring the attention that was now being paid to her, before beginning her story. ‘So, we know so far that the ruling Spirit Descendant passed away a couple of weeks ago, meaning that Alexander, Philip’s grandson, will succeed to the throne soon. We also know that Christiana, the ruling Body Descendant, is getting on a bit.’ Cleo paused, the silence pregnant. ‘What we didn’t know until tonight, is that Christiana is more than getting on a bit,’ she took a deep breath, ‘she’s dying.’
‘What?’ Bas and Anita blurted out together.
‘That’s going to have a significant effect on the energy,’ said Bas, livid. ‘They have got to prepare people for news like this.’
‘But why would the Descendants all come here if Christiana is dying?’ asked Anita.
Cleo looked smug. ‘Why indeed?’
‘Cleopatra, we know you’re brilliant, and for that we’re eternally grateful, but we’re dying over here. The suspense is literally killing us.’
‘Alright, alright. They’ve brought Christiana here to die. There’s something here she wants to make peace with before she goes, but nobody knows what it is. All they know is that she’s currently on her death bed below the Temple of the Body and that Austin is fuming about the whole thing.’ Austin, Marcus’ father, the ruling Mind Descendant, had a reputation for being venomous. He, as with most Minds, thought himself superior to everyone, including the other Descendants, so it wasn’t surprising that he was cross at having to be in Empire at the whim of another.
‘They’re going to hold the Chase, the Crowning and the ball here instead of in Kingdom. They’re going to hold off for a couple of weeks, as the likelihood is it’ll be a double Crowning with Peter succeeding Christiana.’
‘They’re going to let him rule?’ asked Bas. ‘Surely it would make more sense to pass straight to Gwyneth?’
‘Nobody knows if either of them is eligible to rule, given that Christiana has no direct female heir. The bloodline could be broken anyway, and the prophecy could already be dead,’ Anita chipped in, trying to take in the magnitude of what she had just heard.
‘Well Gwyn certainly doesn’t act like it’s dead, given the way she was strutting across the Temple earlier,’ Cleo retorted.
‘So they’re having the Crowning here? But where will it take place if not by the relic?’ asked Bas.
The three Temples were always built as triangles, with three tips, one from each Temple, meeting at a point in the middle. In Kingdom, the main parts of the Grand Temples were open to everyone, had a central triangular section that only the Descendants were allowed to use, and the joined tips, which housed the relic, were also open for everyone to visit. Crownings usually took place by the relic so that everyone could see them, but in Empire, the layout was slightly different. The Temples were open to everyone, but underneath each Temple were chambers that only the Descendants were allowed to use. Underneath the joined tips was a sacred area, but nobody, apart from the Descendants and a few select Councillors, was allowed to know what was there. The area of the joined tips was closed off to everyone but the Councillors, who used the hexagonal chamber inside to host Council meetings when in Empire.
‘The rumour is that most of each Crowning will take place in the public centre of the relevant Temple. The Descendants will then go to the sacred centre underneath the tips to perform some part of the ritual, and then will come back up to complete the ceremony.’ Cleo really had excelled herself this time.
‘And the Chase? Where and when will that take place?’ Anita asked, as offhandedly as she could.
Cleo and Bas smiled. ‘Bet you can’t wait to get your teeth stuck into that one,’ said Bas. ‘See if you can’t beat the Descendants.’
Luckily, at that moment, there was a ruckus across the bar, and Anita took the distraction as an opportunity to evade a ribbing and head to the bathroom. But what Cleo had failed to mention, was that the young Descendants had been in the back room of the bar, and the commotion was a result of them deciding to leave. Anita found herself trapped in their path to the door, a mass of bodies having closed ranks behind her to gawp at the Descendants as they passed, so she couldn’t go back the way she had come, and she couldn’t go forwards, or she would run right into them. There was nothing she could do to avoid them apart from duck her head and try to be inconspicuous.
Gwyneth came first. Cleo was right, she did have flowing golden locks, her long blond hair seeming to glimmer in the light. She was tall and thin, unpleasantly thin. Her floor length silk dress and red cloak made her look the part, but she had the air of someone trying just a little bit too hard. Nor was she that pretty, her nose a bit too long and eyes set a little too close together. Gwyn walked past Anita without so much as glancing in her direction. Unfortunately, the same luck was not to be had with the next Descendant, Alexander. As soon as she saw him, her energy lifted. She did everything she could to try and suppress it, but Alexander’s head turned slowly, carefully, so he could see where the energy was coming from. Here we go again, thought Anita, desperately trying to curb her energy, his piercing blue eyes looked down at her, this time only a metre away. He didn’t say a thing, looking intensely into her eyes. She held his gaze and wished she knew what he was thinking, but his expression gave nothing away. People had started to turn and watch them now, but Anita was determined not to break first. He might have an effect on her, but she wasn’t going to let every victory be his. By now, Marcus, who had been talking to a couple of Councillors at the bar, had noticed something was going on, and sauntered over to see what was happening. Alexander felt him coming and moved on, following Gwyn out of the bar.
‘Wel
l, that was interesting,’ Marcus drawled, standing very close and looking down at her with flirty eyes. He smelt of soft vanilla, and as it wafted over her, she inhaled greedily, momentarily disorientated as her pulse reacted, quickening, her energy singing, colour rising to her cheeks. She told herself to snap out of it, exhaling sharply, trying to get a handle on her out-of-control emotions. ‘Alexander doesn’t usually deign to interact with anybody. And even if he didn’t talk to you, I would call that an interaction, wouldn’t you?’
‘I’m not entirely sure what I would call it, other than weird,’ Anita shot back, a little too sharply.
Marcus smiled. It wasn’t every day a girl spoke to him like that. ‘We’re heading back to my family’s residence just outside of town. Why don’t you join us?’ Anita recognised a challenge when she saw one. If she knew anything, she knew she did not want to take on the Descendants all at once, and certainly not on their territory. If Anita had had a social climbing mother, what she was about to do would be cause for disinheritance, but seeing as she didn’t, and that, to Anita, winning was more important, she had to say no.
‘I’m terribly sorry, but I have a prior engagement,’ she said sweetly, looking up at him through her lashes, matching his flirty tone, ‘excuse me.’ And with that she left through the back exit, leaving everyone in the bar staring at Marcus as he turned indifferently and strode out to join the others.
‘Holy Mother of the Gods,’ Cleo exclaimed, bounding out of the bar after Anita, ‘what were you thinking?’
‘It was a challenge,’ Anita shrugged, exasperated, as though this should be enough to explain everything.
‘You have just committed social suicide.’
‘Social suicide? How?’ Anita spat at her. ‘Where exactly was I in the social standings anyway? They’re just people Cleo. People like you and me, but they just happened to be born into a different bloodline.’
‘They’re powerful Anita. You need to be careful.’
Alexander’s earlier words came back to her, ‘you are a very desirable asset’, and it halted her tirade. She knew Cleo was right. ‘Look, I know I shouldn’t have done it like that, but I couldn’t go to Marcus’ ‘residence’ and be their plaything for the evening.’ Cleo nodded. At least Anita hadn’t made a complete swooning idiot out of herself like most other girls would have. ‘Look, Cleo, I think I’m going to head home. Thanks for the champagne and say bye to Bas for me?’
‘Sure, no worries,’ said Cleo, blankly, shaking her head as she turned and went back inside.