by ST Branton
For about the third time that morning, my jaw practically hit the floor. “Say what now?”
Kronin inhaled. “It’s exactly as I said. The Gladius Solis is currently unique—but it doesn’t have to be.” He flicked his gaze over to the centurion. “Would you bring me something to eat, old friend? I’m afraid my endurance is not what it used to be.”
Marcus snapped to full attention. “Of course, my lord. Right away.” He disappeared down a path toward the palace and Kronin directed me a similar way. We walked side by side and both of us limped slightly.
“What’s this new weapon?” I asked him, curious.
“That’s up to you, Vic,” Kronin replied. “You’re the one who will bring it to life.”
The building we entered was separate from the palace and huge in its own right, towering high into the sky. The God-King led me into the basement and along a mess of labyrinthian corridors to the door of a massive underground vault. It stood open enough for a person to slip inside, which was what we did. Torches lit up on the interior walls to banish the darkness.
I looked around. The vault was almost empty. A small pile of strange, glimmering rock lay near the middle of the floor. He went over, picked up the tiniest piece in his hand, and beckoned me closer. “Long ago, this Solis Stone was plentiful in Carcerum,” he said. “This is all that remains.”
I gazed at the metal. “There isn’t that much,” I remarked. “That’s messed up. I thought you said the Gladius Solis was unique.”
“It is.” Kronin turned the small shard of stone in his palm. “There is more than one use for Solis Stone. How do you think gods are made?” He tapped his finger against it. “The creators shaped the gods from the stone and it granted them their powers. But they would be easy prey to a Solis weapon.”
“That’s why the sword works so well on them!” I exclaimed. “Holy crap! What are we waiting for? We have to make another one.”
The God-King stopped me. “I want to tell you something first.” His voice and eyes were somber. “No doubt you have noticed that Marcus, despite having been irrefutably killed some time ago, is able to regain his physical form and walk around here.” He gestured to the medallion around my neck. “This pendant is infused with traces of Solis Stone which gives it the ability to preserve and restore spirits.”
“Okay.” I frowned. “I get it. There’s more than one use. I still want to make another sword.”
He pressed on. “I can give you a choice. You can forge a new weapon, as you think you want to do. You can take this weapon back to the temple and use it to fight Delano. I must let you know that I have no knowledge of what that outcome will be.” He glanced at the Solis Stone. “Or, you can choose to spend your days here in peace. With Marcus…and your family.”
At first, I didn’t think I heard him correctly. “Sorry?” I asked. “My family’s gone.”
Kronin gave me the look of a teacher who had to spend extra time with a particularly slow student. “As I said, Solis Stone preserves spirits. Here.” He took my hand and placed my palm on the smooth, cold slab. “Keep your hand there,” he said. “Speak their names.”
He moved past me to wait outside the vault.
My heart did a weird little flutter. I could hear my pulse in my ears. My mouth went suddenly dry, and it was hard to conjure the voice I needed to say the right things. It seemed impossible to say their names, so I simply called them as I always had.
“Mom,” I said. “Dad.”
The surrounding stillness deepened. Murky shadows moved across the surface of the stone. One moment, I was alone in the vault, and the next, my parents were there in front of me.
“Victoria,” my mother said quietly. “My goodness, how long it’s been?” Her eyes, the same as mine, glittered with barely repressed tears.
My father smiled, his arm around her shoulders. “Still my little girl,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The room was as dark as I could make it and the drapes that hung down over the bed were pulled tight, but I still couldn’t keep my eyes closed. I lay on my back, looked at the canopy above me, and mulled over everything Kronin had shown me that day. The incredible beauty of his empty kingdom. The truth of his own history. My parents summoned to life years after their murders. I had finally made peace with the part of myself that had lusted after vengeance. I’d laid their ghosts to rest.
And yet, they were with me, no different than they had been the last time I saw them alive. It was like no time had passed at all, except that we all knew it had. I was so relieved to see they were happy and at peace. But I was also mortified. My mother and father were not violent people. I’d never imagined a scenario where they knew what happened to me after they died, much less one where we had to talk about it.
It was weird until my dad said he was proud of me. Then, it was awesome.
He’d given me one of his trademark bear hugs, the kind that lifted me off my feet. My mom had kissed my cheek and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. So many things I never thought I’d be able to feel again, and I had them for those few moments. Part of me did want to hold on to them forever.
It was agonizing to take my hand off that stone and watch them fade away, a flash-grenade of grief in my chest. But that storm passed quickly, supplanted by the echoes of their love. Even now, I still smelled traces of my mother’s favorite perfume.
I missed them so much. Seeing them again had made me painfully aware of the void they left behind. The notion that I could have that life again in Carcerum was sorely tempting. No pain, no war, no violence. Only me and my parents and Marcus, kicking back and eating all the weird, delicious fruit we wanted.
But no Deacon either. I curled up as he entered my mind and braced for the ruthless flood of emotions. The thought of leaving him with Delano filled me with guilt. Before I saw my parents, I had known I couldn’t abandon him.
Did I still know that after?
“Ugh.” I sat up in the bed. “Marcus?”
He didn’t answer, so I closed my hand around the medallion and had a moment of panic when I found it cold. Then I remembered he wasn’t in there.
“Oh, yeah.” I shook my head, ran a hand through my hair, and swung my feet over the side of the mattress. Sleep would clearly not happen anytime soon. What I needed was a friendly ear.
Carcerum’s sky was studded with diamond stars on a velvet backdrop. The moonlight bathed the land in a mythical silver glow, bright enough to light my way as I set out to find Marcus. I had no idea where his quarters were or if he even needed to sleep. I merely turned my brain off and tracked my inner compass. The old guy was basically a part of me by now anyway.
Still, it took a while to find him. Not that I minded exploring Carcerum at night. The whole place was like something out of a fairytale, one that always ended well. I wandered along the roads for about an hour while I kept a watchful eye out for any signs of a Roman centurion. At last, my gaze snagged on a light in the window of a smallish out-building. Its door was left slightly ajar. I went to the edge of the frame and peered inside.
Marcus stood in front of a large oval mirror. The glass was reflective, but not of anything in front of it. Shapes appeared to shift across its surface. I stepped into the building. “Hey, there you are.”
Marcus glanced up. “Hail, Victoria,” he said. “Sleep eludes you, I see.”
I shrugged. “Nothing new there. What are you looking at?” I stepped beside him.
Marcus stared into the depths of the mirror. “It was once my job to watch Earth from here to make sure no Forgotten had broken Kronin’s law. This mirror can show you anything in the world you desire to see, in the past and in the present. It has always helped to keep my vision clear.”
In the silvery field of the glass, a slender man strode down a dark pathway. “What’s on now?” I asked.
“We are witnessing the rise of our foe,” Marcus said. A second later, the man turned to the side and I saw a glimpse of his face. It was Delano,
younger and closer to the way he used to look. His hair wasn’t too long yet, and his skin hadn’t developed its sallow undertones, but I’d have known him a mile away. He had a mean ax in his hands.
We watched in grim silence as Delano brought that ax into a house and used it to hack through a whole family. He emerged bloody and superficially wounded by his own vicious enthusiasm but unmistakably triumphant.
“What the fuck?” I said. “Was that his family?” The legend Marcus had told me about Delano’s sacrifice to Lorcan ran through my head. “All that crazy stuff people said about him was real.”
“Yes,” Marcus said. The image shifted to show Delano walking down another path as he wound his way toward a vaguely familiar temple. He was met by Lorcan. His hands were still covered in blood.
Then, Lorcan gave Delano a knife, which the man promptly used on himself. “Gross!” I exclaimed once it became apparent that the lump of flesh he held out to Lorcan was his own heart. He collapsed and died at his master’s feet.
“This is so fucked,” I said. The image shifted once more, and I couldn’t look away.
Delano in the present filled the mirror. He was clearly inside his own temple, and his face was twisted into the most awful smile. The view switched suddenly.
I bristled. “Oh, fuck!” He had my crew strung up on the walls of his grand hall, primed for torture. I watched helplessly as he carved intricate designs into Maya’s stomach with his own claws. Sweat poured down her face but the vet didn’t make a sound.
“I know you know where the little rat is hiding,” Delano said cheerfully. “And frankly, I’m running out of patience.” He turned from Maya, lunged at Steph, and grabbed her by the throat. She gasped for air.
I heard Frank shout. “Get off her! I’ll fucking kill you.”
Delano laughed. “Oh, I doubt that very much.” He bore down on Steph until her face began to turn blue and he let go to sneer as she choked for air. Relentless, he walked around to every one of my crew. Jules and Brax were close together and held hands. Delano pressed a red-hot chain link to her skin. She screamed but she did not break. Brax looked like he wanted to crack the planet in half.
The only one I couldn’t see or hear was Deacon. My heart wanted to believe that was because he’d somehow managed to escape, but I knew better than to count on it. I desperately needed to know where he was. At the same time, I feared the answer so I kept my questions inside. To voice them would make it all too real.
In the glass, Delano threw his head back, an expression of sheer glee plastered over his face. He had never, ever looked happier. It made me want to puke.
And it made me absolutely furious. To stand at the window, so to speak, unable to take any sort of action, was torture in its own right. I barely noticed that my fingernails had drawn crescents of blood from my palms. I was too fixated on Delano and how far out of my reach he was.
“I take back everything I said about Carcerum being a paradise,” I said. “I get it now. I fucking get it.” There was nothing hidden from me—nothing in the whole damn world—but I couldn’t influence any of it. So what did it matter?
Delano’s face loomed large in the glass. He was mocking me. “Fuck!” I shouted. I swung before I thought. The mirror shattered and splinters skidded across the floor. I stood there glowering at its empty stand.
“Victoria?” Marcus asked.
I turned to face him. “I know what I have to do.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Marcus opened his mouth, presumably to ask me what the hell I was talking about. I brushed past him before he could speak, eager to get back to the vault and put my plan in motion. He called after me from the door. “Victoria!”
“I’ll meet you there!” I called back. “Trust me, Marcus. This can’t wait!”
“I understand your urgency, but—” He caught up with me and pointed in a different direction. “If you plan to return to the vault, the building is that way.”
“Oh.” I changed course. “Right, I knew that.”
He patted my back. “Worry not, my friend. I shall pretend I witnessed nothing.”
To my surprise, the door to the basement vault room was open and a soft light emanated from inside. Marcus and I exchanged a glance as we descended the stairwell into the subterranean level. There was only one person it could really be. Sure enough, Kronin emerged from the vault in front of us with the last block of Solis Stone held in his arms.
Marcus stepped forward. “My liege,” he said. “Let me help you.”
The God-King shook his head. “Not this time, Marcus. The forging of a new Solis weapon is my duty and my honor.” He looked at me. “Wait here inside the vault. I’ll fetch you once the forge is primed.” He hurried past me, his stride long and purposeful. We stepped into the vault’s now empty belly.
“A new weapon?” Marcus asked.
“Yeah.” I rubbed at the traces of dust on the floor with my toe. “Another sword is the only thing that’ll defeat Delano, so we have to make one. Then we take it back to his stupid, ugly temple and we ruin his day with it. You’re in, right?”
The centurion smiled. “Must you ask? Of course I will accompany you.” He paused. “But not a sword.”
I gave him a look. “It has to be a sword, Marcus. I won’t go into that fight armed with a holy golf club.”
“You do not understand,” he said patiently. “The sword is an instrument of equality—swordsmen begin and end on equal footing, no matter the outcome. You have used it thus far to put down hordes of lesser beings, and it has certainly served you well, but it is not for slaying demons. For that, you require a spear.”
“That’s a load of crap,” I said. “There are a million fairytales about knights who bring swords into dragon lairs. If it’s good enough for Saint George, it’s good enough for me.” The deep whooshing sound of a kindled flame rushed to my ears and I glanced up to see a flood of warm light spread over the outside corridor. The burning hum of Kronin’s forge resonated in the walls like a voice. Goosebumps stood up on my arms.
Marcus watched me knowingly. “Those fairytales were no doubt written by fat old men, not by experienced warriors such as yours truly.” For emphasis, he dusted his shoulder plate with a dramatic gesture.
I rolled my eyes but laughed anyway. How amazing it was to be there in Carcerum with Marcus. A small miracle amid all the darkness of the last few weeks. “I’d bet my life that you’ve never written a shopping list, let alone an entire classic fairytale,” I said.
“Well, I’ve lived my fair share,” Marcus answered. “And I know the villain never dies in glory.”
“No,” I interjected. “That’s the hero’s job.”
Marcus put his hands on my arms and stared deep into my eyes. A spark of intensity burned within him and charged his words. “Victoria, listen. You saw as well as I that Delano is a monster, that he always has been. Nothing in the universe or beyond could elevate him to the level of your equal. I must urge you not to create another sword, only to sully its edge with his blood. He is not even worthy to speak your name.” Marcus took a deep breath. “Delano is but a worm. He deserves to die like one.”
I grinned. “I knew there was a reason I missed you, old man. No one gives an inspirational speech like you do.”
He puffed his chest out. “It is a talent I acquired in Rome. My efforts to pass it on to you have had middling results.”
“Hey!” I prodded him lightly in the chest. “I’m very inspiring if I do say so myself. Lord knows no one else gives speeches in the mess hall at Fort Victory.”
“Your inspiration lies more in your actions than your words,” Marcus said. “You have stepped up and carved your mark upon the face of humanity. They will remember you, alive or dead, for generations to come.”
I raised my eyebrows. “At least if I die, it’ll be as glorious as hell. I think I want a Viking funeral. Like with the boat and the fire. Burn me with all my shit, too, so nobody else can have it.”
Marcus chuc
kled. “Again, you are mistaken,” he said. “Heroes die in tragedies. And that is not the kind of tale we will write.”
“Oh, so that makes this a comedy and I’m headed for a wedding instead? Thanks for—” I stopped talking as the sentimental side of my brain immediately thought about Deacon. I looked away abruptly. Sudden impatience overtook my heart, and I eyed the corridor in anticipation of Kronin’s interruption. The forge’s fire had built to a dull roar.
“It is almost time,” Marcus declared. “I am so very proud of you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, buddy,” I said. We were quiet for a few seconds, each of us deep in thought. “I wonder if he waited here because he knew what I’d do without him having to ask.”
“Kronin is wiser than most,” the centurion said and shifted his weight. “But perhaps it is foolish to call him wise above all else. He has overlooked true intentions in the past, has he not? I have no doubt he wanted to be sure this time.”
“Why even give me the choice?” I mused, half to myself. Then I realized that seeing my parents had only hardened my resolve to stop Delano once and for all. I missed them, yes, but that wound had long ago begun its healing process. Even if they weren’t with me, I could hold them in my heart until I met them again.
I couldn’t build humanity from the unrecognizable mess Delano wished to create. There’d be nothing left, for one thing. We were a plague of insects that he sought to exterminate. He thought we were worthless.
I knew better than that.
A flickering shadow fell across the floor in the hallway and approached the threshold of the vault. Marcus and I both looked at Kronin who stood in the open doorway. The king’s brilliant eyes locked onto mine. “Are you ready, Vic?” he asked.
I moved toward him. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“Excellent.” Kronin nodded approvingly. “Your sword awaits.”
“Not a sword,” I responded and glanced over my shoulder at Marcus. “A spear.”