“I really hope not,” Ben said. “I suppose there are other possibilities. Julius got into one in Ænæria, right?”
“In Minervia,” Mandi confirmed. “The capital, Owl’s Look, was built just outside it. People had been trying to find a way in for generations.”
“Julius always claimed to be the Sun’s Chosen after that feat,” Darius added. “That always seemed reason enough for me. Now I’m less certain.”
Ben imagined it must have been hard for Darius to cope with the truth about technology and Julius and reconcile it with his faith in the Sun. Ben knew Julius had used the religion as a tool to control people. But for someone like Darius who lived their life by that religion, it must have been terribly difficult to reconcile.
“Maybe it’s not an Enochian then,” Ben said. “Maybe the Orks found a way in like Julius did.” Or, as he secretly hoped, maybe it was his mother.
Mandi flared her nostrils and groaned. Then added, “You could take one though, right? After all, that’s what you’ve been training for.”
Ben shrugged lightly, trying not to display his full lack of confidence on the matter. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Darius punched him in the shoulder. “We’ll have time on the road to help you prepare. You can show us what all that training bought you.”
Ben nodded half-heartedly and looked out the window of the sun-carriage, watching the desolate wastes for nothing in particular.
At about fifteen miles from the town, the roads began to show the signs of decay from hundreds of years of natural degradation and disuse. Citizens of Mashariq had little reason to travel much farther than here since joining the Penteric Alliance, so maintenance of the roads surrounding their town had greatly declined. After just another five miles they found the pavement to no longer be in any ridable condition. Filled with the dark greenery of weeds and mosses, the paths of the Old Days were reduced to mere pebbles and replaced by wretched attempts of nature to take back the land. Wooded bogs and wilting grasslands reigned supreme out here. They would carry on in the sun-carriage since it could handle most terrains and drive overtop small boulders or fallen trees. It could not, however, cut through narrow forests or cross deep rivers and ravines. A new way toward Ney became their first obstacle. One that Ben was already planning around.
A caw came from the sky above the wild grasslands and patches of woods. Hüginn circled above the trio and landed on Ben’s outstretched hand. He gave the bird the command open, and the raven’s forehead sank into its skull by an eighth of an inch before sliding back toward the occiput, revealing a slim glass screen. Looking at the screen, Ben watched the past few minutes of the bird’s experience. The images were small, but Ben was able to get a decent idea of the terrain ahead of them.
“It looks like we need to adjust our path by a few degrees north,” Ben explained. “From what I can see, the grasslands start becoming boggy and more like marshes to the east and south, but northwards it looks a bit drier.”
Darius had his arms crossed over his chest. “Your metal bird can tell you that?”
“Not in so many words,” Ben responded. “More like he shows me. His head has a really small built-in motion block. You see, the eyes are actually cameras that not only connect to his brain, but also to a hard-drive stored in—"
“Alright, I get it,” Darius said. He groaned and stretched his back and neck. “How far off course do you think this’ll put us?”
“Why, do you have somewhere else to be?” Mandi asked. She was sitting atop a sun-bleached boulder, sharpening her various throwing knives with a small whetstone. Sierra was sprawled out next to her, rolling around in the grass.
“You heard Ben. That Vault was opened weeks ago. If it holds weapons like the Vault in Minervia that Julius used, then Ney may not even be standing anymore.”
Another terrible possibility that plagued Ben since he’d decided to wait until the end of his training to journey there. It was a similar sense of foreboding that had haunted Ben back when he traveled Ænæria in search of Rose, wondering if he’d even been going in the right direction. As he had then, he was committed to his plans and needed to see them through. It won’t do to make a habit of quitting because of the ‘what ifs.’
They continued driving until the last sliver of sunlight sank over the horizon—making as few stops as possible. They’d packed enough food from Mashariq to keep them held over for a few days; Ben knew Sierra and Hüginn could search their surroundings for more food whenever they ran low
Judging by the maps that Darius had provided—and the landscape shown by Hüginn—they had managed to traverse roughly forty leagues. Given the strong likelihood that they would run into obstacles along the way, they likely wouldn’t reach Ney for another week. Still, at this pace, they were more than quadrupling the time it would take to ride on horseback.
The campfire wisped beneath the twirling twilight wind. Darius cursed at it as he tried to spin his pheasant breast over the flame. Ben was next to Darius, laying against a sleeping Sierra with Hüginn perched on his shoulder. Mandi was to his right, leaning against a log just outside the light of the campfire. She wore her hood over her head, shrouded in a shadow that hid the large burn covering the left half of her face.
“Having any luck there, Darius?” Mandi asked, popping a roasted chestnut into her mouth. “Looks like you’ve still got a feather on it, too.”
Ben laughed and sipped his tea. Before leaving for Svaldway, Kabedge gave Ben a moon’s supply of his favorite home-grown tea leaves. Feeling homesick was quite a new phenomenon for Ben. Drinking Kabedge’s tea was a perfect comfort for it, filling him with warmth, the fragrance reminding him of the days in the old man’s shop listening to his stories of the Old Days. Boy, am I going to have quite the stories for you when I get back, Kab. Pretty soon I’ll have more than you. He took another sip and smiled.
“What’s got you all bubbly?” Darius asked Ben.
“Yeah, d’you have something more than tea in that mug?” Mandi added.
Ben rolled his eye. “Nothing of the sort. Just thinking about being back home.”
“Let’s just hope there’s a home to get back to,” Darius said, still struggling with the fire.
Mandi threw a chestnut at Darius. “Don’t joke about such things.”
“What? I’m just being realistic!”
“Mandi, it’s fine,” Ben said. “Darius is right—the odds aren’t in our favor, and time isn’t on our side.”
“See? No harm done,” Darius added.
Mandi put down her bowl of chestnuts. “No harm done? You grew up as a Rhion. You don’t even know what it means to have a home! Mine was taken by your people—twice!”
Sierra stood up at the sudden shouting, and Ben jolted as he nearly fell to the ground from the loss of support; Hüginn cawed angrily and flew off Ben’s shoulder and onto a nearby tree. Mandi hadn’t ever talked about her first home with Ben before. They always seemed to dance around the subject whenever Ben pried, and he eventually gave up. Clearly, it wasn’t something she wanted to talk about. Until now.
Darius let go of the skewer and crossed his arms. “I did have a home. I was five when I was taken. Old enough to know my parents and my little brother and sister. Now I have no idea where they are, or what this war will do to them. You asked why I’m distracted and in a hurry to get back home? Well, it’s because I want to find them. Rose promised me they’d be given asylum. Trinity was working her butt off to gain your mother’s trust just so she could be in on the information exchange. While we’re here wasting our breath talking about being homesick, she’s looking for my family. I may never see them again, but I at least want to know if they’re okay. I need that closure.”
Crickets chirped and the fire crackled, only highlighting the silence between them. Another breeze blew by, and the sound of thunder roared in the distance. The sky was black, and no clouds were visible, perhaps hiding in the dark like Mandi’s scar.
N
either Mandi nor Darius often spoke about their feelings—unlike Ben and Rose—so when they did, it normally meant they were under an enormous amount of stress and feeling vulnerable. In fact, it wasn’t until halfway through Ben’s recent stay in Svaldway when Mandi started to open up to him about herself. Even now, though, she was as much an enigma as her mother. That type of relationship seemed easier with Darius, perhaps because of their shared experiences together. Much of what they thought could go unspoken and was easily understood. That wasn’t the case with Mandi, which was why Ben was glad when she finally let her guard down at the campfire.
Mandi inched closer to the fire but still kept her distance in the shadows. “There’s a lot to be said about closure. I guess you could say I’m lucky because I grew up with my parents. But my dad died in Jordysc. Nearly everyone else in my family died when my home was destroyed.”
Ben sat up straighter. He knew the death of her father, Heath, was something that wore heavily on her, even though she rarely spoke about it. Apparently, they’d not been very close since she spent most of her time on missions with her mother. Other than her mother, the only other family she had, oddly enough, was Kabedge and his sister, Mandi’s grandmother.
She exhaled heavily. “The reason I’m so on edge today is that it’s the twelfth anniversary of when my childhood home was destroyed.”
Darius frowned and his gaze sank to the ground. It was clear he felt bad for giving her a hard time, even though he’d never admit to it. “Your grandmother told us about her hometown being destroyed. Was that the same place?”
Mandi put her hand against her face and rubbed her scar. “Yes.”
Without thinking, Ben put his hand on Mandi’s shoulder. Just to comfort her, as he would for any friend. She shook and moved a few inches away from. Clearly, it wasn’t a comfort after all.
“I was only six when it happened, but I remember it vividly. I have nightmares all the time. Like you, Darius, I want closure on what happened.”
“But you were there—you remember it.”
“I was there, and I know what I saw. But I don’t understand it. There was a huge fight that started between two people. One of them was a man about my father’s age. He had apparently led some woman to our town, and the legate wasn’t too happy about it.”
Ben suddenly realized that if Risa had lived in Ænæria, it only made sense that her family had grown up there, too. Until now, Ben had always associated Mandi with the Miners Guild, which was founded by his own father and others in the Penteric Alliance. But he never actually made the connection that, just like Darius, Mandi was Ænærian.
“Which province were you born in?” Darius asked. “Is…is the mark on your face from a slaver’s brand?” He rubbed his thumb over the tattooed Ænærian letters on his wrist: SPQR, a brand given to each male firstborn in Ænæria as well as any other male drafted to join the Rhion. Many others—those born before Julius took control of the Northern Realm—were branded for slavery. Mandi, being eighteen, could have fallen in that category. Since Ben hadn’t made the simple connection that she was Ænærian, Ben never considered the possibility of her ever having been a slave or almost becoming one. As for the burns on her face, Ben never brought it up. He knew he didn’t like it when people asked about his eye.
“I was born a town called Sun Reach, in the Kingdom of Minervia,” Mandi replied. “It wasn’t a part of Ænæria when I was born, but it became a province pretty early on in Julius’s conquest.”
“Then that would have made Randolph your legate,” Darius said.
Ben clenched his fist. Aside from the Enochians, Randy and his nephew were Ben’s greatest enemies. The Enochians hadn’t betrayed his trust like they had when they ordered a gang of wastelanders to pillage Freztad and murder Rakshi. No matter how much Mimir had taught Ben about the evils of the Enochians, Ben couldn’t hate them as much as he did Randy and Longinus. Because they had faces burned into his memory; memories tied to such strong emotions would overpower those with reason nearly every time.
“Yes, Randolph and this other man got into a huge fight,” Mandi continued. “I was actually with the man’s daughter at the time. I think she died in the aftermath.” She paused for a minute and wiped something underneath her eye.
“Randolph killed the man right in front of me and the girl. Shot him in the chest with one of his solar guns. Then the woman that the man had brought to the village lunged at Randolph. She destroyed his weapon, and I swear by this, lifted him and threw him through a building then charged after him. By then, there was an uproar in the town. Rhion marched in and tried shoving people into their houses. But Sun Reach was a base for the Miners Guild—right underneath the legate’s nose. Our people fought back but were too easily overpowered. Since Minervia is where Julius was able to access the Vault with solar technology. So every other Rhion in the town was armed with a sung or some other solar weapon. The fight was a disaster, and nearly every building caught fire—including my house.”
“Hence the burn,” Darius said flatly.
“Hence the burn,” Mandi repeated. “My parents and my gran were able to drag me from our burning home and commandeer a sun-carriage that was used in the battle. We drove away while my grandfather stayed behind to fight and clear a path for us.”
“I see,” Darius said. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenched.
Again, Ben felt the urge to put a hand on Mandi’s shoulder. He always found that touch was such an effective way to communicate empathy. That was hard, though, since Ben couldn’t always tell what the other person was thinking. Just what they were feeling.
“Your grandfather clearly loved you. It says a lot about someone when they sacrifice themselves for the ones they love.”
Mandi cracked a smile. Then she put her hand on Ben’s shoulder, which was the last thing he had expected. “Thanks. Both of you. As much as I’d love to keep getting all touchy-feely with you guys, I think I’m going to head into my tent. Away from the campfire.”
It had suddenly dawned on Ben after all this time that Mandi must’ve been terrified of fire. No wonder she always stood as far away from it as she could. It destroyed her village, killed her family and friends, and left a permanent reminder on her face.
A burnt odor crept into Ben’s nose. He turned to the fire and noticed a plume of smoke billowing next to Darius. “Maybe Darius should take some time away from the fire, too, because I think it just ate his pheasant.”
Darius’s eyes widened. He jumped toward the fire and saw smoke swirling from his skewer. He cursed profusely as he blew and waved his hands over the blackened bird.
That was the first time, the three shared a laugh together.
11
Longinus
The Shimmering Sea
Breezes blew by, carrying the soft scent of salt. The Sun powered her mighty airship over the glimmering ocean below. Longinus never really got used to flying. Her stomach twisted with each ascent and landing. Yet there was still something special about being in the air, untethered and free. She could learn to love this. Few things found their way into Longinus’s heart; once they were there, she never let them go.
Their destination was all the way across the ocean. Once, she had thought Bacchuso was all that lay across the sea—the ocean being only a narrow fissure between Ænæria and the remaining unconquered lands. Then she learned of Svaldway, the northernmost civilization where legend had it that the Sun herself could hardly reach in the cold embraces of winter. Longinus was glad she would not be traveling there. It was still summer, but for all she knew, her journey could last weeks or moons. The land she sought would still see the Sun if she were trapped through winter, though being in a foreign land for so long was not something she looked forward to.
Her uncle had informants all over—throughout each of the provinces, and even in the Penteric Alliance. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d even sent scouts to the far corners of the world. Everything they discovered had been covertly communi
cated to him, and over many years he had compiled stacks upon stacks of reports. Reports with which he studied and cross-referenced to determine the likeliest of places to have Vaults. It had been a project, she learned, that he’d started shortly after the death of the rest of their family. His obsession grew from a single detail surrounding the massacre in Sun Reach: a sung had been used. Not any sort of sung, either. One that hadn’t come from the Minervian Vault. Those all released blasts of orange and yellow. No, Longinus remembered this one very well. It had been green. Just like Limmetrad’s sword.
Longinus fidgeted with the amulet around her neck: a gold socket with what appeared to be a ruby at its center. This was no ruby, nor any gemstone. It was, in fact, the crystallized blood of Benedict Limmetrad. Having his essence so close to her filled her with rage—so much so that she often had to restrain herself from crushing the false gem every time she held it.
“A beautiful view,” a voice said from behind.
Longinus took in one last look from the window overlooking the endless sea. She turned to see the captain standing at the doorway, expectantly. He wore his military issue tunic with Ænæria’s emblem at its center and a silver pin the shape of a sea ship’s wheel over his left breast. Nico was a tall man, almost intimidating. As ever, Longinus straightened her posture. Hiding her womanhood was one thing, commanding respect another. Standing shorter than nearly the rest of her crew did her no favors, and platformed boots only did so much.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll prefer the view when home is on the horizon.”
“That could be quite some time. Another three or four days to our destination, if the winds are kind,” Nico said. He stepped closer, placing his hands over the railing and facing the window. “As for me, I appreciate a new view. My travels have brought me throughout Ænæria; it is rare that I see something I haven’t come across before.”
The Heir of Ænæria Page 12