Absolute Heart

by Michael Vance Gurley

  “What’s the matter? Don’t believe in science and engineering? Tools scare you?” she mocked, waving a small gadget with a liquid-filled bulb in the handle she quickly pulled from her bag.

  “Enough,” Victoria said with sufficient regal presence that the group ceased bickering and turned to listen to her. “It is time to begin your mission.”

  “Um… what mission?” Landa queried.

  “To take the stone back from the unworthy Council, my child,” the Monk said. “To right the great wrong.”

  “What should we do with the stone once we get it?” Gavin asked.

  “Stone?” Landa asked.

  “Bring it back here—” Victoria started at the same time.

  “Only you will know what to do when you have it, boy,” the Monk interjected forcefully enough to give Victoria pause.

  “Wait, what?” Victoria asked incredulously. She glared at the Monk. “Not returning with it? That was never part of the deal. How do you expect us to do what must be done without it? You can’t expect me to go along with this now.”

  The Monk held up his open palm, which kept the group silent for what seemed an eternity.

  “Fate, Victoria,” he said. “I have seen it.”

  “And what? This is mine, and that’s all? There are hundreds of people in and out of this village depending on me to lead them, to help create a better empire.” Victoria said, sounding more dejected with each passing word between them.

  “This moment, my lady,” the Monk said, “is as if ley lines converged, and every success and every mistake you… we… have made has led them to do so. That is no small thing.” He could see his revelation had not settled her. “Take care to know that great change is coming, and fate is not finished with you, Victoria Hanover.”

  “When you find it,” the Monk instructed Orion, “you must not touch it, for it could consume you.” Again Orion kept his tongue.

  “How will I know what to do?” Gavin asked.

  “Ah,” he responded. “What to do? You and only you are fated to know. You must continue to believe in the true meaning of that which is prophesied.”

  “What does that even mean? ‘To know’ what?” Landa asked, more confused.

  “Like Gregor Travail, you must have faith,” Victoria said.

  “Gregor Travail, the Knight Templar? The man who killed Corigan Lorcan?” Landa asked. “What does he have to do with this?”

  “He is why we are in this mistake to begin with,” the Monk said, his eyes so full of pain they threatened to break her heart.

  “And what exactly is Gavin fated to do?” Landa asked, more than her fair share of snark attached.

  “Young tinkerer, lover of tools, cogs, and gadgets,” the Monk said. “You ask the wrong question. It is not so much what he will do but what he may still prevent.” Landa looked at him blankly.

  “He means that something has started here, and London’s attack is proof,” Victoria said. “Morgun Blaylock aims to have his Brotherhood of the Mage rule the world, and he thinks Gavin is some kind of… key.”

  “Morgun Blaylock thinks what?” Gavin asked.

  Orion stayed silent. There were many puzzle pieces coming together.

  “Key to what?” Landa asked.

  “To bring the return of Corigan Lorcan himself,” the Monk replied.

  Landa opened her mouth in shock. “Gavin, how are we mixed up in something so big?” Gavin was a statue.

  “Are you guessing at this?” Orion challenged.

  “I cannot see everything.”

  “Wait. What the hell are you on about? He was just getting the piss knocked out of him by Wish and his friends, and today he is supposed to save the world from a dead warlock, who has been dead, mind you, for hundreds of years?” Landa waited on an answer before she added, “He can barely take care of himself.”

  “Thanks for your support,” Gavin sniped back.

  They all sat quietly, the tension palpable in the air between them all.

  “Go get your other friends,” Victoria said, Landa’s outburst ignored. “It seems it is time you were on your way.”

  “Fret not, good lady,” the Monk soothed. “We all travel together in the slipstream, playing parts large and small, and which we cannot say, as all rely upon the next.”

  “You know what…,” Victoria started but closed her eyes and inhaled. They each waited patiently. Victoria commanded attention even when silent. She smiled, looked up, and continued. “Go now, Gavin Haveland, and Godspeed. The past aches to catch up with your father and the rest of his so-called elected Council. When it does, I will apparently be sitting here.”

  “You… you know who I am?” Gavin asked.

  ORION SNAPPED his head up, his green cloak’s hood dropped around his neck. He narrowed his eyes, and the muscles of his jaw worked so hard they moved his whole cheek up and down. Gavin, the son of a councilman? That’s why he was the center of the prophecy. That’s why Blaylock sent Orion to find the mysterious boy in England. He wasn’t sure how a fledgling warlock who didn’t even know he could wield could become the bringer of so much death and change. He did know he swore an oath to his aunt, and he would do everything in his power to fulfill it, even if he didn’t believe in or understand all of it.

  Orion controlled emotions, ensuring his face looked neutral. When he thought no one watched him, Orion lifted the cloak over his head so he could observe them without them seeing his eyes.

  Gavin stared at Victoria, who smiled as she turned to nod at the Monk. She then cocked her head at Orion. “Warlock, you won’t last half a tick in London town looking like you just stepped off the boat from Ireland. We need to help you blend in.”

  “Wait,” Landa protested. “That warlock is not coming with us, is he? If you want us to steal something to prevent the dead from being less dead or whatever raving mad thing you’re saying, we certainly aren’t going to trust some Irish monk to help, are we?” Disgust dripped from her tongue. Gavin stared at her.

  Landa’s disdain angered Orion. Only the infernal device tinkerers of England would call him a monk.

  Gavin took Landa by the hand and told her to collect everything they needed in order to start their mission. When Gavin and Landa had gone, Victoria paused to glance at the Monk before she left them. He pulled his hood to him, rose, and stepped far closer to Orion than Orion would have preferred.

  “Soon you will be presented with a choice,” the Monk said in a voice that rumbled with thunder. “You will not choose wisely, but I must warn you not to let that dissuade you from your true path.”

  “And what, pray tell, is my true path?” Orion asked with excessive sarcasm.

  The Monk stroked his gray beard before he continued. “I hope you heed me and chose wiser than I when your heart calls to you.”

  “I bet you do,” Orion said.

  “My son—”

  “You’re not the only one who sees with a clairvoyant eye, old one.”

  “Orion,” Victoria warned.

  “As it is true you have seen many things,” Orion said, “you took me in your vision as well. You do indeed have a great deal to make up for.” As much as the old man kept his head up and did not look away from Orion, the torment on his face made Orion wish he had.

  “Everyone has secrets, young warlock.”

  “Oh, yes, I know your secrets. You tried, but you could not divert me from knowing. You look different now. But it was you I witnessed on that battlefield. You grabbed the stone,” Orion said. “It was you.”

  “You have no concept!” the Monk said, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. Victoria placed her hand on his arm.

  “We will make things right,” she said.

  “Will we? After so much time, so much damage, so much wrong. We shall see,” he said. “We shall see.” He rose and walked slowly away. Orion thought he looked much older now.

  Victoria leaned close to Orion. He could sense her strength. “Siobhán is a great woman. She knows what it means to ma
ke sacrifices, to make decisions, not for her own gain, but for the greater good. I dream of being like her, as I am sure you do. A storm is coming, Orion. For all of us. Every moment is a choice. What will you do with yours?” She warmed her hands over the fire before she left with a gracefulness he envied.

  Orion sat in the glow of the fire and listened to the wind.

  Crisis of Faith Answered

  “I DON’T know if I can do this,” Landa said, as they headed to the pub to get Lucas. Gavin stopped in his tracks.

  “You are the strongest person I have ever known. You can do anything,” Gavin said, believing every word of it. He hoped she did.

  “Not treason. That’s what this is. Treason of the highest caliber,” Landa said, her pale cheeks flushing with heat.

  “A war is coming, and we have to stop it. You heard what Lorcan can do with a weapon that powerful.”

  “He’s long dead,” Landa said.

  “There is so much I don’t understand, but some things are clear. We are not fighting Britain; we are saving it.”

  “From your father.”

  “It is much bigger than that now,” Gavin implored. Landa stared at Gavin, his passion for this quest evident on that face she knew so well.

  “This is a broken engine, Gavin, but all the parts aren’t there, and I’m not sure we have the tools to fix it even if we had them. Something is not sitting right. But all right, you know I can’t say no when you are in need.”

  “Yes,” Gavin said.

  “However, I am a far sight from understanding why you are at the center of this. I won’t hand over a weapon to these strangers that could destroy my country and kill countless people. It feels like some sort of game being played between Victoria, the old monk, your father, and… and maybe all of Ireland?”

  “And don’t forget the faeries,” Gavin said, trying to lighten the terrifying mood but to no effect. “Look, we have to get the Knowledge Stone from my father, to stop him and his cronies from ruining Britain’s future. Our future.”

  “The Knowledge Stone. This is the magick stone you were talking about earlier? The one in this dream you were shown?” Landa asked. When Gavin nodded, she continued. “And the Council has used it to negatively alter Britain’s, I don’t know, time, somehow?”

  She pondered that thought for a long time. Gavin prayed she would support him.

  “Gav, something that powerful, we can’t give that to Victoria and her Druid. Or let that Irish rogue get it either. Right?”

  “I don’t know what we will do after we get it,” Gavin said, pushing a nervous hand through his flop of hair. “But you need to be more cordial with Orion. For me.”

  “Well, speaking of that issue, do you know what you will do about Lucas?”

  “No idea,” Gavin admitted, defeat and anxiety in his voice.

  “Not one but two boys at the same time?” Landa joked. Gavin threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

  “And Wish?”

  “What about him?” Landa said.

  “Uh-huh. Sure,” he said.

  Landa started putting all of their things in a sack and waved him away. “Go on.” Gavin turned to walk toward the pub tents and into his and Lucas’s room.

  “Time to get going, Lucas.” Gavin shook the balled-up Lucas by the shoulders.

  Lucas pulled away from the touch.

  Gavin sat on the bed and laid his arm across Lucas’s hip. He tried to squirm away, but Gavin wouldn’t let him.

  “Look, Lucas. I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I never meant to hurt you.” He had never for one tick allowed himself to think the way he felt about lads could lead to happiness. With Lucas, it had been different. And now Orion.

  Gavin’s voice quavered, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. “I need your help.”

  “Do you love him? More than me?” Lucas begged, his throat constricting in a sob.

  Gavin leaned down to kiss Lucas gently on the lips. His head hung close enough to smell the salt in the tears. His eyes searched Lucas’s to see if it would be all right. Lucas raised himself into Gavin and kissed him back, soft at first, then deeper and more aggressively. Gavin gently pulled back and held Lucas’s hands together.

  “Lucas, so much is changed, and I need to tell you about it all, and we need to go, and I don’t know if I have the strength to do any of it,” he said. Lucas looked up at him with a confused expression. “And I need time.”

  Lucas’s face fell. Time. It sounded so final.

  Gavin wanted things to be different. He leaned down and kissed Lucas again, but this time the passion lay dormant on their lips. He could sense Lucas pulling away and it tore at his heart. “Lucas, there is so much going on right now. Please, we need to go.”

  “And the wielder?” Lucas asked. Vile contempt dripped from the words. “Is he why you need time?”

  “No. I don’t know. If you could only be in my daffy head for a tick or two, you’d see. Lucas,” he said. He pulled him out of bed. “Come with me, help me. Let’s see what happens together.”

  “Together?” Lucas said, sounding hopeful.

  When his hair flopped in his face as he stooped low to tie his bootlace, Gavin smoothed it back out of the way and tucked the errant hair behind an ear. Lucas smiled and unfolded to his full impressive height as they walked out into the sun together.

  His Eyes Open Yet Cannot See

  “AND EXACTLY where have you two been,” Wish said when Gavin and Lucas entered the steamwalker.

  “Why must you? As soon as you start acting normal,” Landa chastised. Her face was smudged with grease, and she tucked her hair under a leather helmet and goggles.

  “I didn’t even say anything this time.” Wish shrugged.

  “Where is Orion?” Gavin asked. Lucas grimaced.

  “I don’t know,” Landa said, waving a wrench around in her hand, which Gavin tracked. “He should be here by now.”

  “I’ll go find him,” Gavin said.

  “I’ll come with you.” Lucas bristled.

  “No, you won’t,” Wish said. “Landa has me doing everything on this checklist and provisioning alone, and you’re not getting out of it so you can traipse around some more with your nancy boy, mandrake.”

  “Wish!” Landa admonished.

  “What?” he said, his half-charming smirk returned to his face.

  “Just when I thought you were trying. Never call him that again,” Landa said, her wrench held high in a shake of warning. Wish shrunk slightly.

  “I was taking the piss. Okay, okay. Sorry.”

  “Lucas, I’ll be right back,” Gavin said.

  Gavin wandered around looking for Orion, asking people until the farmer who had captured him pointed to a tent. When he entered, Orion stood in front of a full-length mirror, shirtless. His stomach muscles constricted and moved with each of his breaths. His heart necklace reflected the light and accentuated the curves of his throat. Gavin couldn’t stop staring until Orion spoke and startled him.

  “Like what you see?”

  Gavin’s cheeks blushed, which didn’t take much with his fair complexion. “Um, I just came to find you to see why you’re taking so long.”

  “I can’t put on these rags,” Orion pouted and held up a shirt and vest similar to the ones Gavin wore.

  “Why not? I think they’d look—”

  “Good on me?” Orion asked, finishing his question.

  “What is the issue? We don’t really have time for your wardrobe problems.”

  Orion held up his green cloak. “Do you see this? This was earned. I studied and practiced and wielded magick in a dangerous contest of skill to earn this level. I never take it off.” Gavin raised an eyebrow at Orion. “I think you understand what I mean. And I will not lose this,” Orion said of his necklace with finality.

  “That seems important to you. You wouldn’t tell me before. Who gave you that?”

  “Let’s just say I made a promise to never lose it.”

  “Loo
k, no one is saying you can’t keep it on or that you can’t put the cloak on later, right? Let’s find something you detest the least, and that way no one will spot the Irish warlock and capture and kill us all, right?”

  Orion moved into Gavin’s space. Gavin stared at his stomach muscles as he walked. Orion rubbed one hand across his belly and then lifted his hand to point to his own face, which Gavin followed. Orion smiled, and the beauty of his nose, his Cupid’s-bow lips, his hazel swirls….

  “The way your people say ‘Irish’ sets my teeth on edge. But when you say it….” Orion leaned in. Gavin tipped his head into Orion. The kiss was quick and Orion edged back. When he went for another, Gavin closed his eyes for it. His head remained leaned over, expectant, until Orion moved back in front of the mirror. Gavin’s heart pounded, and his head swam with lust and guilt. But what of Lucas? What was he doing?

  “Now help me find something amongst these clothes that better suits me.”

  ORION AND Gavin returned to the steamwalker to find Landa, Wish, and Lucas settled on the grass, having a picnic of finger sandwiches. Lucas saw them and spoke first.

  “Now you’re going to start dressing alike?” His tone was curt but full of emotion.

  Orion did in fact look much like Gavin in a traditional airship-pilot dress shirt, multipocketed vest, tight brown pants, and dusty boots. Gavin had helped Orion find colors that matched the same scheme he was used to. His shirt was golden and his vest a hue of green.

  “I thought you would be too busy crying in bed to join us,” Orion said.

  “Time to go, everyone,” Gavin said before he ushered Orion into the steamwalker past Lucas’s death glares.

  Once they were underway, they slipped by Victoria’s last outpost guards without incident. Landa finished checking the boiler pressure gauges, made sure the fire was big enough, then asked the question they were all probably thinking about.

  “Where are we going? Where is this stone being held?” Lucas looked up at Gavin from his seat on the floor next to the driver’s seat where he worked the controls.