by T. C. Edge
I nod slowly, thinking back. "She did mention something like that, yes," I say.
"Then, how can we know what else has been seen? Perhaps the Prime always knew that their army would be defeated. Perhaps it was a necessary loss to create the conditions to bring Brie to their door. And perhaps our pursuit of them now, and the march of our own forces to the north, is another event that they know will happen?" He shakes his head. "We cannot know for sure what they see, and what they don't. But either way, we need to be conscious of this fact."
"And would that change anything?" I ask. "If we don't know what they've foreseen, then what can we do to change it?"
"Nothing," Ares says. "All we can do is play our part, and make sensible decisions as we see them. From what I've heard from Perses, the Prime's prophetic abilities are limited, and not fully within their control. They see only what they are shown."
"So they can't just look into the future and see what might happen?" I ask.
"I do not believe so. They see only signs, Perses tells me. Signs of things to come, that link into chains of events. The events that led to Amber coming to Olympus were known to a few for a long time. Yet, no one knew when or where such events would take place. It is possible the Prime have read the signals wrong, or that they have seen more than we know. Perhaps the coming of Amber was supposed to bring about the destruction of Haven, or perhaps, instead, it was meant to bring the opposite, leading to the events we see now, and the eventual defeat of the Prime." He smiles, a rare thing, and shakes his head. "We cannot know," he finishes. "To think too deeply on it will lead us nowhere. Fate will reveal its intentions in time."
I look again to Perses, watching him as Ares speaks. Somehow, I feel nervous at the prospect of speaking with him, though I very much wish to do so. I feel a tension in my chest as he wanders, hands behind his back, up and down upon the fields, alone with his thoughts.
"You wish to speak with him, don't you?" Ares says, perceiving the signs - the beat of my heart, the rising of my chest, the micro-expressions on my face - as I look across at him. "I know about your friend, Zander," Ares goes on. "You don't fully believe it, do you? That he exists still, within this spectral realm?"
I don't quite know whether to shake my head, or nod it. I think once more of the strange presence I felt in my mind. Of Zander, standing there as a blur within a world of white, his voice speaking as if through water. I still don't fully understand what happened outside of the Olympian camp. But I wonder if Perses may be the one who has the answer.
"Go to him, Kira," Ares continues. "I'm sure, if you ask the right questions, you will get the confirmation you need."
I look up to him, his deep, penetrating eyes locked within a face chiselled from stone. "You believe it?" I ask.
"I do," he says, nodding. "I see no reason not to."
I draw a breath at that, as the soldiers begin to return from the woods. And leaving Ares's side, I step towards the man who might just have the answers I seek.
I approach from behind, as Perses stares towards the distance, taking a short break in his gentle strolling to cast his eyes towards a trickling river down in the valley below. From where we are, the view is fine, spreading a long way across the rolling, forested hills.
I stop a few paces behind him, and draw a breath. "Perses," I say. He turns around, slowly, not startled by my sudden arrival. "Can I have a word with you?"
Hands behind his back, he dips his chin. There's a deep scar across it, as well as others littering his face. He has the power to heal, I know, to die and be reborn. Now, with his powers suppressed, the wounds he suffered during the ambush in the woods are healing at a normal rate.
It shows on his face, in the pallor of his skin, in the weakness of his aura.
"Yes, Kira," he says to me, the words rumbling from his great barrel chest. "What is it you want?"
I fill my lungs again. "I...I was told that you." I stop, licking my lips as I try to find the words. "That you..." I stop again and look into his eyes. I can see he already knows what I'm trying to say.
"That I met your friend, Zander," he says, finishing for me.
I begin to nod, feeling oddly small in his presence. I suppose I felt similar when I first met Ares. Only by spending time around him have I grown comfortable to speak with him plainly, as I do now.
"Yes," I say. "I was told you enter a place called the...spectral realm sometimes. When you...die." I frown at the words. They hardly make any sense to me.
I see a smile, small but warm, appear on his lips. He has a ruggedly handsome countenance, even in his current, weakened state. And despite the scars and the covering of black bristles on his head, and the staggering proportions of his muscular body, there's a warmth to him too. I imagine, when facing his enemies, he must be quite terrifying to behold. But here, in this wise and gentle guise, he's quite inviting.
And he quickly sets me at ease.
"It's a difficult concept to grasp," he says smoothly. "It has happened to me a number of times now, which I suppose doesn't say a great deal for my proficiency in battle." His eyes lift to Ares in the distance. "I would say Commander Ares is a finer warrior than I am, if only because his death would be final, whereas mine is not. It...makes me reckless, at times, I suppose."
"But you don't truly die," I say, needing to clarify just what happens. "You're just...harder to kill, I guess."
"I suppose you could put it that way," he agrees. "I have been to places that no one else could come back from. My heart has been severed. My body has emptied of blood on several occasions. When that happens, I enter a short period of suspended animation as my body renews itself, and comes back to life. Usually, it doesn't last long. My healing powers see to that. But, this time, it was different. I was in the spectral realm for much longer than usual."
"And that's where you met Zander?" I ask, still rather confused.
"It is. The experience is hard to explain, Kira, for someone who hasn't truly been there. It is a world of white, features blurred and hard to distinguish. I would describe it as though waking from a dream, the edges of your memory fuzzy, the details often unclear. And yet, some are as clear as a cloudless, blue sky." He looks to me with a smile. "He spoke of you," he says. "That, I remember well. He said that you might take some convincing of this, should I have a chance to meet you."
"He...spoke about me?" I ask, my voice pitching a little higher.
"He did. You were the best friend he ever had, he told me. He said to fight with you had been a great pleasure. One of the greatest joys of his life."
My smile is soft, and the burgeoning tears warm. I blink them away, foolish as they are, and shake my head. "I miss him," I whisper, half to myself. "But...when I visited the Olympian camp a few days ago, after the battle I...I felt his presence too." I look up into Perses's deep, understanding eyes. "It's as you say. A world of white, the details blurred. Somehow, I could perceive him, hear his voice, see his smile. And Brie as well. They were...doing something to me, I think. Something in...here." I tap my head, knowing I'm hardly making much sense. "I just...don't understand it."
Perses's eyes narrow pensively. His face, though built of iron and rock, holds a great wisdom to it too. Beyond the brutal facade, like Ares, he is in possession of a deep and incisive mind. Both men are so generously gifted, designed as much to philosophise and lead as to war and fight.
"Tell me," he says eventually, turning that endless gaze on me, "do you still perceive Zander now?"
I shake my head. "Nor Brie," I say. "Her presence was weak, and so was his. I...I felt him again, when I left to bring back Jude. We passed near to the base on the way. Zander was there, in my mind, but indistinct. Brie was...nowhere."
"Interesting," Perses says, lifting a hand to his chin. "Very interesting indeed."
He takes another moment to himself, looking down through the valleys. I see him shaking his head as he contemplates a theory. And turning back, he speaks again.
"It is possible," he says, "
that Zander is now able to access your mind. When we spoke, he told me that he could enter Brie's mind from the spectral realm, travelling between the two. It's feasible that they were able to work together to forge a pathway into yours, allowing you to communicate with Zander. That is why you could sense him when you passed by the camp on your mission to collect Jude."
"And Brie?" I ask. "I couldn't sense her."
"Her powers will now be suppressed," Perses says. "That would remove her ability to communicate with you telepathically. Yet Zander would not be so restricted. The connection may well be weak, but it sounds to me as though there is a neural pathway into your mind that he can access."
"And I can't sense him now because he, and Brie, are too far away," I whisper, nodding to myself.
"Precisely. You may only be able to communicate with him when you are close to Brie's location. Yet, it could prove extremely useful. It may allow you to communicate with Brie, via Zander. When trying to break her free, it may be a telling factor."
I continue to nod, thinking to myself. It may be the piece of the puzzle I need. This may be how I get her out...
I draw back and turn my eyes up to Perses once more. It's amazing what a short conversation with someone can do, cementing a feeling of kinship, blowing away the webs of distrust and making you wonder why you ever doubted them in the first place. There remains a lot I don't understand about the man, and a lot that he'll probably never reveal, but I can safely say I feel happy, now, to have him on our side. In whatever form that ends up taking.
"You know," I say to him, "I wasn't sure I was going to trust you. But, I guess you've convinced me."
"Then it's just as Zander told me," he smiles. "And he told me something else, in case you were too stubborn to be won over."
"What?" I ask, frowning warmly.
"He told me to remind you that, the last time you raced, through the suburbs of the Northern Quarter, he let you win. He said that he'd won the previous three, and so thought you deserved a break." He holds up his hands, palms out. "I cannot, of course, confirm whether he's lying or not. But he said that it was something only you would know."
I shake my head, smiling off to one side. I can almost hear Zander saying it, almost see his cheeky smile as he teases me, just as he used to. "No one knew about that," I confirm with a whisper, my eyes threatening to water. "That was the last time we raced before he died, before everything...fell apart." I look up to him. "What else did he tell you?"
Perses's smile grows larger, more kindly and paternal. "That, I think, is a discussion for another day," he says. His eyes turn to the convoy, as engines begin to rumble, and doors begin to slam. "I know you don't want to cause delay, Kira. You are...just as Zander described. I am so sorry for what you saw with Herald Nestor. I am so sorry for everything that we have done."
I have no words for him, but to shake my head, and show him that he isn't to blame. He smiles at me again. He knows. One by one, he is winning us all over. And now I understand just why the President, and Secretary Burns, spoke to me, in private, just before we left, of replacing the Prime with this man.
As much as Perses was born to fight, he was clearly born to rule. And should he assume that mantle, it could very well usher in a lasting peace between our people.
19
Kira
It's not long later, during our second short break since the one we took that morning, that I stand a mile or so ahead of the convoy, having rushed off during the break to check the onward route. With Ares alongside me, we quickly look for clues that might help us determine just how far away the Olympian army is.
So far the thought is that we're gaining on them, but only a little. After almost two days on the road, I'm getting the feeling that we're not making up enough ground to catch them. And, after my discussion with Perses that morning, I feel quite keen to speed up, dropping the dead weight if we have to.
"We should head back," Ares says. "We'll learn nothing new here."
I agree entirely with the sentiment. Dashing back at almost full speed - for me, at least - we fizz back into the camp within a minute or so, covering the ground at lightning pace. Arriving, I turn my eyes to Secretary Burns, standing nearby to the jeep he shares with Amber, Perses, and Jude, who I've purposefully taken to avoiding since we left. Any minor drama with him is something that, frankly, I don't have time for.
As we arrive before Burns, Hendricks and Maximus shoot over to join us. I see Amber hanging around outside of her jeep as well, pretending as if she's not listening. I know, for certain, that she is.
"Nothing, I assume?" asks Burns, as we step into our huddle.
I prepare to speak, until I see a couple of Neoroman soldiers only now leaving their troop carrier and heading off to relieve themselves in the nearby woods. "Too late," I shout at them. "We've been stopped here for ten minutes. You couldn't have gone already?"
"Er, we were sleeping, Lady Kira," one of the soldiers says. "We were on watch all night."
"Well...fine," I say. "Just be quick about it. We're leaving in a couple of minutes, max."
I turn again to Burns. "In a rush, Kira?" he asks.
"Sorry, Secretary Burns," I say, detecting his reprimanding tone. "I don't mean to try to take charge or anything."
"No, it's quite all right. If you lose enough minutes then it can all add up, I suppose."
"I would, however, cut the men just a little bit more slack, my Lady," Ares suggests. "We are making good ground, according to Perses."
I draw a breath, knowing he's merely trying to be diplomatic. Yes, apparently Perses told him that we've covered a fair distance, and yes, we technically are making good time, but the reality is, it's not good enough. At least, not if we still harbour designs to get Brie back before she arrives at Olympus.
Mention of Perses, however, has me searching briefly for him, my eyes turning across the fringes of the convoy, where he likes to stroll. "And...where is Perses?" I ask, looking around.
"He is stretching his legs," Burns says, to the surprise of no one. I spot him now, wandering around the edge of the convoy, as he was that very morning. The slow, methodical, thoughtful manner in which he moves, brings a peaceful smile to my face. "So I assume you've learned nothing?" Burns continues, referencing my and Ares brief recce ahead.
"Not much," Ares responds. "There are some signs that we are catching up, however. It has been a day and a half without stop, and we are closing the gap a little."
Yeah, a little. That's the point...
"But not enough," I say, attempting to be as diplomatic as Ares is. "We might only be five or six days from Olympus, and less from the Fringe, and we're not getting close enough." I notice the soldiers plodding slowly back towards their cars. There's no urgency at all. "Do they not realise how urgent this is?" I say. "We may only lose a few minutes here and there but they're adding up, as you say, Leyton."
"But not enough to make a huge difference," Ares says. "Minutes might add up to hours, yes, but that may not be enough if the Olympian forces continue at the same pace. There are two solutions to this conundrum, as I see it."
"And they are?" Hendricks asks.
"Either they slow down, or we speed up," says Ares, quite plainly. "Since we cannot affect the former, we can only look to the latter."
"With all due respect, Ares," Hendricks says bluntly, "we are going at full pace right now. These short breaks, frustrating as they are, probably won't make a difference, as you say. And, they are necessary. We have five hundred soldiers here who have certain basic needs to attend to. That is the reality we have to deal with."
"I am fully aware of that, Commander," Ares responds. "I am not suggesting that the entire convoy speed up. That isn't feasible. I am merely saying that now might be the time to split into our component parts. We spoke about it before, and now the time may have come. We will gather a smaller insurgent group, and go ahead to retrieve Brie. We will then meet back up along the trail, and prepare for the arrival of Emperor Domitian an
d the reinforcements."
"You think it's time already?" asks Burns, frowning. "Should we not leave it a little longer, perhaps? What if the Olympians have merely set out at a sprint to make some solid ground, only to relax their pace later on? It might give us time to catch them."
"I'm afraid, Secretary Burns, that we cannot rely on 'maybes' and 'mights'. We have to operate with facts, and assume that the current Olympian pace will be upheld until they reach their lands. Perses suggests this may very well be the case..."
"And we're just trusting him, are we?" asks Hendricks. He is one of the few who Perses hasn't fully won over. Burns, Ares, and now I have fallen under his spell, for one reason or another. Hendricks, as yet, hasn't had much of a chance to experience the profound nature of the man. "We cannot forget he was the leader of the army we are pursuing not so long ago. We cannot give his word this much value or import."
"I trust him," I say, with some conviction. I look towards Perses, as he continues to stroll gently through the grass, deep in his own thoughts. "I believe he's changed."
"And why is that?" asks Hendricks.
"Just...something he said to me," I say quietly, choosing not to reveal everything we spoke about earlier. It isn't really something that needs to spread around just yet, particularly to a cynic like Glenn Hendricks. "I think we can trust him just fine."
"Well, thank you Kira, that clears everything up," says Hendricks, making absolutely sure that his sarcasm is loud and clear. "Forgive me for being rather less accepting of those who marched to our city to destroy us."
"And Amber?" asks Ares suddenly. I glance over to the girl, still standing by her jeep, pretending not to listen. It's more obvious than ever that she is. I find it quite amusing actually. "Do you trust her?"
"I...well, I suppose so," Hendricks stutters, finding himself a little boxed into a corner, stumbling under Ares's gaze. "She's...just a child. And new to all of this."