[Infinity's End] Edge of Tomorrow - Ch 14
Aug. 8th, 2010 01:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
n_wilkinsonTitle: The Edge of Tomorrow
Series: Infinity's End, Book One
Summary: Ione makes a difficult decision when her allies call for her imprisonment, forcing her to flee for her life. In the hands of the Theravada, she meets Gale Arlen, rumored leader of the rebels, and learns what it truly means to choose a side.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22)
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Chapter Fourteen
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Time had a funny way of passing by when least expected it. At least to Ione. Before she realized it, fall had tumbled head over heels into late autumn and started the plunge into winter, until she happened to look out her window and find snow littering the ground. She’d spent a whole season here in Paragon, almost two really, with nothing to show for herself but some casual spars, a few new friends, and no decisions.
Sure, they seemed glad to have her. Uncle Kieran especially. He was threatening to make her an unofficial assistant if she kept haunting his lab like that, and she still had the scorched eyebrows to prove it. Sabriel similarly was attempting to teach her to cook with limited success, while Antoinette was determined to wrangle her into babysitting with Naomi her all too devious accomplice. It didn’t help that both were aided and abetted by Gale, who hovered around at odd times just to talk and did his utmost to draw her out of her ongoing funk.
It was all getting a bit too familiar. Grayson hardly ran when he saw her now, though he refused all offers of a spar no matter how much his companion Bastet goaded him. Even Ishmael wasn’t shooting glares at her anymore when she approached his designated territory, the library. They had a sort of silent truce. He stayed in his sections – warfare and tactics, geography, and knitting of all things – and she stayed in hers.
Ione’d gotten a lot of reading done in the last few months. So much so that she was almost sick of looking at books. But there just wasn’t much else to do here. Certainly, not like there was in the city, where she could visit family and friends whenever she liked, or when she was in the Brigade. Back then, there’d always been training to do. Patrols. More training. More patrols. Rescuing Ryder from Raine. Chasing after Ophelia. Escaping her brothers and Souya. Malcolm to distract her during lulls.
And perhaps she missed that part – him – the most. He was her lover. Or had been. And while she did definitely mourn that aspect of their relationship, particularly since she hadn’t been with anyone since, and really, there was only so much she could do for herself without another participant. But he was also in many ways her best friend. Her best human friend. The person who understood her the most. He got her she didn’t even get herself. With firm advice and an even firmer fist when she needed sense knocked into her. And more than anything, he would’ve booted her in ass long ago.
Ione had never thought of herself as indecisive. In fact, she tended to make split second decisions about most things. Something she’d gotten from Souya that had often made her mother despair. But that was only until she realized she'd yet to give Azriel some sort of answer. Not that he'd pressed for one. He truly seemed content to let her do as she wished and let bygones be bygones. And the more Ione wandered around Paragon, the more she realized that her position was not entirely unique.
There were others living in the twisted halls and nooks and crannies who had nothing to do with battle but stayed here nonetheless. Sure, they helped in day-to-day living like cooking and cleaning and tending the underground garden. How the rebels were managing to cultivate an garden underground was a mystery to Ione, one she was determined to solve at some point. And Ione helped to point, did as much as she knew how without ruining anything. But she didn’t feel useful. Didn’t feel like she contributed. Didn’t feel like much of anything. That frustrated her. Made her grit her teeth at the irony of it all and want nothing more than to bash the futility – and her head – against the wall. But then, this was a result of her own making. She was useless only because she hadn’t been making herself useful.
Ione bit back a sigh.
“What has you looking so forlorn?”
She settled for an annoyed snort. “It's boredom.”
“Find something to do then,” Fenris said with a sniff, setting his head on his paws and rolling his eyes. “Humans,” he muttered in an undertone, but she still heard him. “Always so concerned with the trivial and not living life.”
“Easy for you to say,” Ione retorted with her own eye roll. She flung her book to the bed and clambered to her feet, glancing at the window where grey clouds warned of another snowfall.
Weather such as that always made her jittery and restless. It was like standing on the edge of a knife, waiting for the sky to break. And the chill emanating from outside didn't help either. Ione didn't much like winter. She was fully ready for spring to come already, for her to at least be able to go outside and chase after Fenris and Aponi without freezing her ass off in the process. She liked her bits just the way they were, thanks very much. Not frozen especially.
Shivering, Ione tugged a cloak off a hook near the door, which had kindly been brought by Antoinette and apparently once belonged to Ophelia. There was no such thing as heating in the rocky corridors of Paragon, only personal aether, and Ione hated to be cold. She stepped into the corridor, leaving Fenris behind to doze on her bed. For some reason, he didn't stick to her side as much here as he had back in Meropis. Aponi, however, just clung to her ear and went along for the ride.
Things were quiet, as they had been for the past two weeks or so. The nobles in Grayshire were remarkably silent from what she had gleaned from various conversations with Kieran, Sabriel, Gale, and the occasional dinner with the aforementioned three with the addition of Azriel, Talya, and the other Sergei. Oh, sure, there were the occasional clashes between the Brigade and the Theravada, but there hadn't been any direct confrontations in some time. Not really since her battle with Dharva when they’d knocked her out. Or “rescued” as Sabriel still claimed.
It made Ione think that Grayshire was gearing up for something devious and devastating. And she knew Azriel suspected much the same. He was in constant transit between Paragon and Meropis now. Ignoring Kieran and Gale's warnings to be especially careful, that the eyes of Grayshire were getting more and more watchful. Apparently, Azriel liked to dance with knife in hand and noose around his neck, tempting the devious eyes of fate and Kaiyu’s questionable mercy.
And speaking of dancing, Ione could’ve sworn she heard music then. And not just any music but a piano. She hadn’t even known there was one in Paragon. How had they even gotten it here? Wouldn’t it had to have been made in Meropis? Besides, who among them was talented enough to play it in the first place? Much less this well?
“It's Gale,” someone said from by her feet.
Ione had a moment to wonder if she’d been thinking out loud again as she looked down to find Inari. The small fox was gazing up at her with strangely glittering eyes and both ears twitching. Her tail was even swishing back and forth in time to the music.
“And it was actually made in one of the villages by a craftsman who’d fled the city. It was a gift for helping his family and he escape.” Inari’s ears twitched at a particularly high note, but it didn’t seem to bother her otherwise. “His wife was a noble who’d dared marry for love and not station, and Gale was the one who brought them out safely.”
Ione blinked at that information. Something about that sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place why. But then, the rest of what Inari said trickled through.
“Gale?” she questioned with surprise.
“He plays sometimes,” the vixen explained for Ione’s benefit and tilted her head to the side. “Though usually not this song.” Her ears gave a slow flutter that matched the tempo. “He must be feeling nostalgic.”
Ione couldn’t help but be intrigued. She herself had little talent in the arts, but she’d always admired those who did. Her mama had been a beautiful dancer in her youth. Still was, truth be told. But age along with birthing four children had made her lose some of her former flexibility and stamina, and now, her mother only danced at Souya’s request.
“It sounds lovely. I want to hear it better,” Aponi urged then, tugging on Ione's ear.
Honestly, Ione did as well. She could only catch snatches of the melody at the moment, but she’d the feeling it would be much more beautiful if she could hear it all.
“I'll take you,” Inari offered easily enough. She was already starting a rapid trot down the hall, something that matched the pace of a human's walk. “Fenris seems to be sleeping anyway.”
“Winter always makes him drowsy.” Ione trailed after the vixen. “Though bite him once on the ear or his hindquarters. He'll get up.”
“I'm slightly afraid to hear that you've done either before,” Inari drawled with an amused lilt. There was a chuckle, or at least, that's what Ione was calling the sound the fox made following that statement.
Ione snorted. “No, I usually pinch him. Works just as well. But not for you since you don't have any fingers.”
The music grew louder, the origin not far from the hall that held her room. She couldn’t help but notice that a door was gathering a sizable crowd of onlookers, even though it was only partially open. No one seemed eager to actually enter. Just happy enough to stand outside and listen.
Talya was among them.
“Settling in?” she asked pointedly, though her voice was soft to prevent rising higher than the haunting melody. She was swaying back and forth to the music even as she spoke, red skirt swishing across the floor.
In truth, Ione rarely had chance to meet with Talya. The vibrant woman was usually out of Paragon, down in the gardens, or prodding their associates into submission. They barely saw each other aside from passing in the hallways or the occasional dinner with Azriel and Gale. Apparently, Talya was highly placed and valued among them, though she wasn’t much of a fighter.
Ione nodded. “More or less.” She drew closer, daring to step within sight of the door and peer through the gap. “Why doesn't anyone go inside?”
“Lord Arlen hates to be watched,” a woman she didn't recognize answered in a small voice, following the statement with a sigh. The sort of girly one Ione had often heard females give when admiring their crushes from a distance.
A few of the women around her twittered. And it occurred to Ione then that the group congregated there was made up entirely of females. Save perhaps a familiar or two and a somewhat sheepish looking man hovering in the background. Her gaze flickered around, and she couldn’t help but notice the starry-eyed gleam most of them carried.
It was a bit disturbing actually. And something inside Ione twitched. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation.
“Why not?” Ione asked, hoping to reassert herself.
“It distracts him,” Inari answered as she sat back on her haunches by Ione’s feet, large ears wiggling in a cute fashion. “Or so he claims.”
Talya waved a dark-skinned hand. “He's just shy.” She gave a shake of her head, making the beads of her braids clack together.
“Shy?”
Ione found that hard to believe. Gale normally wouldn’t shut up around her, and she’d even been tempted to use a spell to silence him an a few occasions.
“Ione,” the Aponi practically whined with a tug on her ear, trying to pull her in the direction of the open doorway. “I want to get closer.”
“Alright already,” Ione muttered, ignoring the startled gasps from Gale's group of worshipful observers and Talya's snicker. “Whatever her majesty commands.”
Rolling her eyes at their behavior, Ione walked boldly to the door. The room beyond was simple, a closed window and tapestries covering the walls. The clear centerpiece was the massive piano. Ione wondered how they’d managed to get the large instrument in here, even as she slid carefully inside with Inari trotting in alongside her.
Within, the music seemed to resonate in the very walls, stronger and purer. It flowed over and through her, traveling from the soles of her feet, up the bones of her legs, and settling in her stomach where it proceeded to make a cozy nest of warmth. Ione smiled; it wasn’t unlike something her mother and Souya would dance or and cuddle to. It made her think of them, of her family, and feelings of homesickness threatened to rise within her. It’d been since the summer that she’d spoken to her parents and seen her brothers. She missed them. A lot.
Ione dared draw nearer, her training in the Brigade making for light steps. It also helped to pull her magic to a tight bundle around her body, making it difficult for him to sense her approach. She wasn’t the stealthiest of people and could be downright clumsy, but he was thoroughly distracted. It was all too easy to come up behind his seat without him noticing.
Gale had elegant fingers. Long and graceful, an artist's fingers. They didn't look of the sort to be wrapped around a sword or calloused by warfare. And yet, they were. He was an attractive man, even more so with a look of peace relaxing his features. But his most striking feature, his green eyes were closed. Hands finding the proper keys by talent and memorization. And as she watched, the song built to a crescendo, rattling through the piano and reverberating in the room. His fingers flew across the keys to find each without error or hesitation.
Aponi practically trembled with glee on Ione's ear. “It's beautiful,” she breathed.
Ione nodded mutely in agreement. She didn't want to disturb his concentration. Especially not as the music hit a climax and finally tapered off with a few soft chords and gentle strikes of his fingers. The last of the notes faded completely then. Silence followed, seeming far too heavy now that it was no longer filled by music.
“That song again?” Inari asked with a bump against Gale's leg before leaping up onto his lap, kneading at his thighs much like a cat. “You haven't played it in a long time.”
Gale's hand fell on the vixen’s flank, brushing back her winter-whitened fur. “Just felt in the mood.”
He exhaled, long and slow. Just content to pet Inari with a deep sort of affection, while one hand went to brush Quetz wrapped around his collar. The little snake stirred, sleepy in the coldness but still responding to his touch. Gale smiled at that, and his eyes fell open as he sat up straighter and stretched. Only to freeze mid-motion as he noticed Ione standing there.
Gale let out a startled rush of air.
“That was beautiful,” Ione said with utter honesty. “What was it?”
The blond shifted on his seat and then shrugged. “Something my father wrote before he died.” He pointedly didn’t look at her. As if embarrassed that she’d caught him playing.
“It was lovely,” Ione commented, tilting her head to watch as he ran one hand over the keys.
“Thank you.” A vague hint of pink rose on the exposed part of his neck. “I’m glad that you liked it.”
He was silent then. Saying nothing and not moving from his spot at the piano. Ione was tempted to sit down next to him but hesitated when she thought that he might choose to play something else. But Gale didn’t. He just stayed there with Inari in his lap giving him a shrewd look.
Finally, the little vixen had enough. “Was that all, Gale?”
“For now,” he replied, moving to look at her as she jumped down from his lap. “It’s getting late, and we’ve other things to do today.” Gale stood then and slowly turned to Ione. “You mustn’t have much to do today if you’ve come all the way out here. Or you were bored.”
“Only a little,” Ione admitted, noticing that his mood seemed to echo the song, a touch melancholy.
Had he been close to his father? It was the man’s creation after all. Perhaps Gale was feeling a little homesick himself.
“I did like your music though,” Ione added in earnest. Wanting him to know it wasn’t just because she’d had nothing better to do than listen.
That seemed to perk him up a bit. Enough for his small smile to widen and his shoulders to lift.
“Well…” he began then, casting another glance at her. “I was about to leave and visit a few villages aligned with us. It’s not too far of a walk, even with the snow.” Gale hesitated, as if to judge her reaction. “Interested in coming with me?”
It took all of Ione's effort not to shout “Yes!”
* * *
“How many of them are there?” Ione asked after the first village – a small farming hamlet called Fleursfield.
Gale had been greeted so warmly and openly Ione would’ve thought him to be their unmitigated leader rather than the mere second-in-command. It was clearly evident where the villagers placed their loyalty, and it wasn't to Grayshire. Indeed, this far in Talemar, the reach of the nobles was strained. And out here, the Theravada had more of a hand. And a useful one at that.
“How many?” Gale repeated.
His lips quirked with amusement as he watched Inari and Fenris trot gamely ahead of them, playfully swiping at each other every now and then. Somehow, the two had made fast friends. Ione supposed it was because Fenris had spent little time around other spirits since meeting and bonding with her. It didn’t hurt that Inari was also a canine. Or that Ione and Gale spent so much time together anyway.
“Villages,” Ione clarified and tugged her cloak tighter around her. Snow and dead grass crunched beneath her boots, the air crisp but thick with the threat of impending snow. “How many are aligned with you?”
Gale tipped his head back in contemplation. He looked up through the empty branches of the leafless trees and the dark-green needles of the pines. He seemed to be considering her question. Or maybe just he was finding the most appropriate answer since she wasn’t technically a rebel.
“A good many of them. Possibly most,” he finally said. “The commoners have no love for Grayshire and its rules. Especially when none of them have seen a single hand of help from them for decades or longer. They struggle out here on their own – to eat, to live, to protect themselves from the Merihem – and are still expected to pay taxes and feed the nobles in their high towers.”
Ione chewed on this. No wonder the residents of the outflung villages had no loyalty to Grayshire. To be honest, the commoners in Meropis held little interest in nobles either. There’d been lines of tension building for years, decades even. Long before Ione herself had even been a glimmer in Souya’s eye. It’d come as no surprise when the uprising first started, and all attempts to put it down quickly had proven useless. Too many people were either in on it in some capacity or were willing to look the other way. That wasn’t even considering that many of the Theravada were nobles themselves, those feed up with the shoddy treatment of their fellows.
Ione thought on that for a moment as she crunched through the hardened snow. Gale’s hand was on her arm as they went over a particularly slick patch, and he continued to hover nearby afterwards just in case. They weren’t using any of the main roads, instead preferring the game trails and paths used by the spirits. It was safer that way since they were straying a bit too close to the normal patrol paths, but it did make for treacherous footing at times.
“Where are we headed now?” Ione asked after several more heartbeats of silence.
“Mapleston.” Gale pointed towards the row of stone houses just visible through the vegetation crowding the underbrush.
Ione knew nothing about it, though it did sound vaguely familiar, as though someone she knew claimed it as a place of birth. But Ione couldn't find the face or name from her often sieve-like memory.
Not that there was much to know, she quickly realized. It was smaller, even more so than Roublesville. Little more than a dozen or so homes clustered around a central well. There were shielded gardens sprouting from the various backyards, undoubtedly protected by a mixture of magic and materials. Which was evidenced by winter vegetables and few scattered not-quite flowers that’d been given a wide berth by the snow. She could also make out water on the far edge of the village, either a wide pond or possibly even a lake. But it was difficult to tell with the snow now bathed over everything. Besides, the water would be frozen this time of the year.
Ione burrowed further into her fur-lined cloak at the thought. She didn’t fancy taking a dip and promised herself to steer well clear lest she fall in by accident. She could just imagine the scolding Fenris would give if she did. Not to mention Gale’s laughter once he fished her out.
Like before, Gale’s appearance was immediately noticed. They barely went by the first house before the people flocked to him. Ione stood to the side, marveling as Gale handled everything smoothly and graciously accepted the basket of hardy vegetables they thrust in his direction. He charmed them all effortlessly with a genuine smile and an even more genuine manner. Ione rarely had opportunity to witness Gale for the leader he was and had to admit that it suited him well. She wondered if he and Azriel ever butted heads over leadership of Paragon. It was hard to imagine that they did since they both got along with just about everyone, including each other, so very well.
“It's nice here,” Fenris said from by her feet.
Ione tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But cold,” she said by way of agreeing.
It was nothing but the truth. It was nice here. Charming even. But far too cold for Aponi or Quetz to have made the journey in peace. The only reason they’d been willing to be left behind. A good thing since the chill striking the air was fierce. Growing sharper by the second.
Too sharp. And much too fast.
Ione frowned then and glanced around. It was subtle, but she felt it nonetheless. Her senses were too wired to not taste the change in magical energies. To feel the tremble of the air around her that vibrated all the way through to her toes. She lifted a hand to trail her fingers in front of her. The tips of them tingled, and her spine crawled.
Someone was working magic. Someone powerful was working magic. Very nearby. And it wasn't she or Gale.
This was skilled. Trained. Strong. And purposefully stealthy.
Amber eyes shot to Gale, who was suddenly watching her. He sensed it, too. And though he put on a concentrated front for the villagers, it was clear his senses were focused on something else. Even Fenris and Inari had shot to attention at her side. Their ears were cocked to something only they could hear, their range extending beyond Ione's own.
“Ione...” the wolf growled.
“I feel it, too.”
Like ice crawling across her skin, trying to freeze her in place. Cold and brittle and bitter as her breath fogged in front of her face. It hadn't been this cold before. In fact--
Ione whirled. Magic spiked through the air in the same instant that she felt it press down on all Mapleston, bathing the residents in a gravitic force. Ione didn't waste a second as the fingers of both hands dragged through the air and called a torrent of wind to surround she, the villagers, and Gale.
It was just in time to prevent a wave of what seemed to be flowing ice from crashing over them. Instead, the wave slammed against a wall of wind and sprayed in all directions away from the town center, splattering the houses in a thick coating of rime and frost. It was like someone had made a life-sized snowglobe with them stuck right in the middle.
Ione knew this power. It wasn’t her captain, but she knew the owner. She’d watched him train his soldiers and all but beat them into the ground with his icy torrent. Midsummer and his magic had been going strong. And it was still second to his physical prowess, to his way with a weapon and his fists. A scary thought indeed.
Gale fought his way to her side as the screams of the frightened residents were caught by the wind and whipped away, barely audible over the rushing current. He was searching around with both eyes and magic. Having little luck with either.
“It's the Brigade,” he shouted as his magic rose up around him in a thick cloak that threatened to dampen Ione's strength.
She clenched her jaw, having realized that much. But why would they be here? Attacking this tiny village that had nothing to do with anything? It made no sense. There was nothing here, and there was no way the Brigade could’ve known they were coming. Gale had chosen the villages to visit randomly, the same as he always did.
“Why are they here?” Ione yelled back.
Her teeth gritted as the force of the cascading ice grew in strength. She planted her foot against the ground as the wind whipped around and jerked her hood from her head, subjecting her to the harsh elements. It was freaking cold! Beyond cold. It was like being trapped on a snowdrift during an ice storm. Like one of the glaciers that were said to cling to the southern tip of the continent but that Ione had only ever seen in pictures.
Gale shook his head, looking past Ione to something only he could see or hear. He moved around her and planted his back against hers.
“Get them out of here. I'll take care of this,” he shouted with his aether drawn taut like a bow and arrow waiting to be unleashed. His eyes flashed with power bright enough to light the storm around them.
“You're insane! I'm not leaving you here to deal with this alone,” Ione retorted into the wind. “You can’t fight them and protect the villagers at the same time. There’s just too many. And they’ll go after me anyway! It’s best if she stick together!”
He had no clue, no idea what he faced. Yes, he’d gone up against Duke Wyndham and High Lord Celestine to rescue his cousin Sabriel, but he hadn’t been protecting anything at the time. Just a snatch and run. This was different. There were people counting on them to work together. Ione knew that much, just as she knew there was worse to come. Oh sure, there was the main attacker here, the bastard who’d called the tide of ice. But the rest were familiar to her, too. They were her former teammates; she was sure of it. She could feel them at the very edge of her senses, burning hot and bright.
But even as that flashed through her head in an instant, Ione couldn't help but again wonder why they were here. Why the Brigade had been sent to all but annihilate this tiny hamlet. It made no sense. Nothing made sense anymore!
Something spiked to their right, effectively preventing Gale from arguing back. Ione's eyes whipped towards the source. She cringed as fire tore through her wind, racing towards them. Ice melted and then immediately refroze in its wake, making the storm that much worse as the blaze rocketed forward.
And then, Gale was there. Sword now unsheathed and raised, batting it away as though it were nothing more than a kid’s bouncing ball rather than a hurtled sphere of flame.
Ione didn’t have time to gawk. She knew that attack, too. It was without a telltale blue-green curl like Dharva’s magic, but Ione could still recognize it.
She watched as Gale's face hardened, and he stepped forward, magic rising around him like a physical and visible force. The sense of it was a great pressure, stealing the breath from the frightened villagers behind them. Ione herself gasped, and as she did, it exploded outwards to slam into a second tidal wave of ice and snow. Which disintegrated on contact, as though it were mere glass rather than frozen water that was feet thick.
The pieces of broken ice fell to the ground, tinkling like a broken mirror. Ione pulled back her wind until it lightened to a stiff breeze and saved her energy. She knew that she’d need it soon enough. Especially when she looked beyond the frost-cluttered air and set her eyes on their opponents.
Holmes stood there. Impossibly imposing as ice and snow swirled around his stocky form. His eyes were narrowed slits, and he was so stoic and solid that his dirty grey hair barely even moved in the wind. Jaw firm and shoulders straight as he was backed by two painfully familiar faces. But Raine and Ryder looked suitably surprised to find Ione there. Almost as much as she was to see them. Not just in Mapleston but without their proper captain. That bitch Dharva had to still be out of commission. It was the only explanation for why another captain would have one of her best teams.
But really, it almost seemed as though Holmes had half the team. Ione herself was obviously not helping them, and she didn’t even know what had happened to Vaughn since last she saw the murderous bastard. Where was the final one, however? The perpetrator of the fireball? Where was Faye hiding?
Gale slid in front of Ione, blocking her from view of the Brigade. Behind them, the villagers were already fleeing. Smart enough to know that they were no match for a battle of magics. Besides, they trusted Gale to watch out for them.
“Get out of here,” he all but growled, eyes never leaving Holmes.
There was something to the look on his face, something hard and almost hateful. As though he not only understood what type of man he faced but knew it directly. His hands dangled loosely at his sides, but even Ione could sense the rising threat within them. Could feel his magic as it trembled with an emotion a lot like loathing. There was a story here; this was personal.
“Leave,” Gale ordered again. “Before they think you’re a part of us.”
“They already think that,” Ione countered as she moved to his side, refusing to cower behind him like some sort of helpless kid. “Nothing I do or say will change it. They’ll attack at my back if I try to leave anyway.”
His eyes flickered to her as she said that, and she saw his jaw tighten. He knew just as surely as she did that they’d stab her in the back if given half the chance. It was better to face them head on.
Across from them, Ione watched as Holmes watched them. She saw his hands clench, witnessed the sneer that flashed across his craggy face as he studied Gale.
Oh, yes. This was definitely personal.
“Gale Arlen, Ione Tegan,” Holmes cut in with a hard clip of voice, tone short and rigid. Just like the rest of him. “You’re under arrest for crimes against Meropis, Grayshire, and His Kingship. Surrender quietly or face the might of the Brigade.”
Judging from the way his fingers shifted for his weapon, Ione could guess which option he preferred.
Gale snorted, hackles lifting in a manner not unlike Fenris or Inari. “Surrender?” His voice was ironically pleasant and almost inane. Like this was nothing more than a simple misunderstanding. “And I suppose we'll be treated fairly then? A trial and the like?”
“Of course,” Holmes declared pompously, but his slitted eyes spoke of something else. Of dark dungeons and quiet executions. The vague hint of pain and torture. Other things Ione knew nothing about.
Gale didn't believe him for a second, and neither did Ione. The tension between the two sides grew like a violent windstorm. Magic lashed invisibly between them, clashing against imperceptible walls. Any fool could tell that this wouldn't be solved with words. And if Holmes had his way, it wouldn’t be solved until there were corpses.
He inclined his head in an almost mocking move, and his mouth opened in a command. It never emerged though. It never had reason or means to do so.
Fenris and Inari darted from nowhere, colliding with Raine and throwing her to the snow. In the same moment, Holmes lurched out in a beeline for Gale, who met his rising ice with a flare of pure aether. Ione stared as Ryder, horrified and distracted by the sight of two animals attacking his best friend, was slammed by some kind of bluish-white flame that Gale sent his way without even looking. Her former friend took the burst full in the chest and went careening backwards. He didn’t immediately get back up.
Gale, it seemed, hardly needed Ione's help.
She didn’t even know what to do with herself for a second. Just standing there and watching Fenris and Inari face Raine as she scrambled to her feet. But then, Ione felt a prickle against her skin, a subtle change in temperature. She twitched and whirled on her feet, leaping backwards and barely avoiding the swipe of a flame-tipped glaive.
“You always were light on your feet,” Faye put in with a mockingly joyful voice, but her eyes were dark above the fire. She straightened with her weapon raised threateningly.
“What’re you doing?” Ione demanded, skidding to an abrupt halt as the heat from the fire washed over her. She sucked in a breath and cloaked herself in her aether with fingers itching to return the unprovoked attack.
Faye's magic rose from her skin like the ripple of a heat mirage. “I'm not the one who switched sides here. Put the captain in a coma. Formed a pact with a demon. Stabbed us all in the back.” Her normal good cheer dripped to outright sarcasm as she struck again, giving no time for Ione to reason with her.
Not that there’d ever been a hope to reason with Faye. She was always remarkably hardheaded. Once she set her mind to something, it literally took an act of some deity to make her see sense. And Ione was deity-less at the moment.
That flame-tipped blade stabbed towards Ione's face, and she danced backwards to avoid, her hands dragging through the air. Her aether twisted around her like a restless serpent as the sharp tip collided with a makeshift shield of tightly spinning air. It was times like these that Ione could hear Malcolm offering to train her with a sword, and now, Gale echoed that proposal. A physical weapon would’ve been really handy right about now. Ione would kick herself if she wasn’t so busy trying to stay alive.
“Grayshire betrayed me first,” Ione shouted, the heat enough to chase away the chill of the afternoon, even as the snow chose that moment to make good on its threat.
Thick white flakes began to drop from the sky. It rained down on Mapleston and the ensuing battles that Ione could only hear as if from a far distance. But she didn't dare take her eyes from her opponent to check on Gale as he faced the others. Faye was only a minor talent compared to Ione, but she was reckless and dangerous. And completely willing to stab someone in the back and just about anywhere else should the need arise.
Now that Ione thought about that and for such a cheery person, Faye was actually quite violent. Bloodthirsty, too. She just hid it better than most.
Faye didn't answer, instead a wordless sound of fury gurgled up from her throat. Her aether flared. Ione just gritted her teeth and dragged the heel of her boot against the ground. The earth rumbled beneath their feet, setting Faye off balance. Ione shoved hard to send the girl sprawling backwards in an effort to catch herself.
Ione drew back, hands dropping to her sides, cloak settling around her ankles. She stepped backwards several paces, not wanting to fight. She might not like Faye, but Ione didn't want to hurt her. Just as she hadn't wanted to hurt Dharva. And now the woman was in a coma? Because of her?
She didn't want to repeat that mistake. She just wanted to be left alone. To take Gale and their familiars and leave. To go find the villagers and make sure they were safe.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ione said, lifting her voice to be heard.
“Traitors have no say,” Faye shouted back and scrambled to her feet. The staff part of her weapon scraped across the ground. “I’ll take you back to Meropis. And you’ll face your punishment.”
One palm smacked out in front of Faye, pushing outwards at Ione, and a horizon of rippling orange cut through the air. Ione leapt to the side and brought up her own hands, spinning as she surrounded herself in a whirling torrent. Faye gave no chance for the heat to dissipate; fire of her own making was unable to harm her. She jabbed forwards, glaive cutting through the wall of wind and fire to slice a shallow cut in Ione's side.
A grunt of pain escaped Ione's lips without her consent. She twisted, lashing out with a foot in Faye's general direction. The woman danced around her, something mad twisting her features, making her ugly. Making her not seem at all like the cute girl who attracted boys and men in droves.
Ione sliced her fingers forward. She coiled the fire in the wind and shot it to the sky, giving her a chance to breathe without sucking in scorching heat. But then, Faye was there. Slicing at her relentlessly, driving Ione backwards as she fought to defend herself from the rapid onslaught.
The enclosure of the village houses fell behind them, dropping she and Faye into wider space, just before the sudden break in tree line. The retreat rankled on Ione’s pride, but that didn’t nearly matter as much as her survival. Still, she halted and braced herself against Faye's attack, sweeping her foot across the snow. The earth rumbled again, and Faye never saw the piece of half-frozen soil rip itself from the land to slam into her right side.
The girl gasped and knocked down from the force of it, glaive skittering out of her hold. Ione panted, conditioning complete shit even with her recent spars, but Faye was not through. She flipped onto her back and flung out another wave of searing heat; Ione twisted to avoid and let the roll of flames pass her by. It hit the ground behind her and sizzled where it melted snow on contact.
The younger woman was already on her feet, abandoning her weapon and becoming even more of a threat. All students headed for the Brigade learned to become masters at hand to hand, and a number of them refused to lift physical weapons once they tasted the glories of aether manipulation.
Wind and fire clashed with the sound of a thunderclap as Faye sprung at her. Ione fended off each blow, feeling her months of lassitude strongly. She clenched her teeth, vowing to get back in shape, to not let her complacency guide her. Not that it did her any good at the moment. Not with Faye driving her steadily backwards, intent on causing pain while Ione only wanted to end this pointless fight. She only knew how to take down, not how to stop without injuring her enemy; that’d never been a lesson at the Conservatory or in the Brigade. So Ione resigned herself to making Faye bleed.
Ah, well. Sacrifices sometimes had to be made.
Resolve firmed, Ione slammed her foot down. But she faltered. The ground beneath her lacked in solidity. She wasn't above the earth now and knew it; she could feel it. They no longer stood on soil and rock but something else. Something that constantly shifted. That ebbed and flowed like the tide. Something like a lake, frozen over by the harsh realities of a winter below a mountain's breath.
Her eyes widened. “Faye--”
“Shut up!” the girl snarled.
She pressed forward, driving Ione further and further onto a treacherously dangerous path. And Ione idly wondered when she’d offended Faye so terribly. They’d been in the same unit for nearly a year. Shouldn’t that have earned her some consideration? At the very least?
“You won't sway me.”
Faye shot out a ball of fire from her right hand, and something cracked alarmingly. The heat of Faye's rage resulted in a flaring of her fiery aether, one that tried to blister Ione's skin. And beneath, her footing shifted. Shifted in a not so good way. In a Very Bad, Completely Horrible way.
Ione dared look down, scraping away the snow with her toes. The ice was just thick enough to support their weight. If they treaded carefully.
But Faye was hardly doing that. Rather, she was storming forwards with disturbing tenacity. And with each step, heat made a cloaking cloud of steam rise.
“You idiot,” Ione hissed, trying to place each foot carefully and dodge at the same time. “Stop! You're going to get us both killed!”
Faye simply laughed. But it wasn’t the laugh of someone who thought their opponent a liar. No, it was far too chilling for that. This was from someone who didn’t care. Who no longer worried at all. Who was willing to embrace anything for the sake of her cause.
It was people like her who were the most dangerous.
Ione skittered back from her and cast frantic eyes around. Straining for a plan, for a way to lead them back to the shore. But she couldn’t think of anything, and the ice was cracking between them. There was no time.
“The ice,” she tried to warn. “It’s--”
Faye roared then. Fire flared. Heat flashed over everything with a loud and resounding snap.
And Ione felt the world drop out from beneath her.
* * * * *
a/n: ... Cliffhanger! Guess I should've warned for that or somethin', ne?
Coming up next time, Ione escapes from the lake's icy clutches, Gale comforts her, and Kieran decides that Ione is vastly overdue some enlightenment. Oh, and Azriel helps.
Comments are, as always, appreciated and welcome.
Series: Infinity's End, Book One
Summary: Ione makes a difficult decision when her allies call for her imprisonment, forcing her to flee for her life. In the hands of the Theravada, she meets Gale Arlen, rumored leader of the rebels, and learns what it truly means to choose a side.
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Chapter Fourteen
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Time had a funny way of passing by when least expected it. At least to Ione. Before she realized it, fall had tumbled head over heels into late autumn and started the plunge into winter, until she happened to look out her window and find snow littering the ground. She’d spent a whole season here in Paragon, almost two really, with nothing to show for herself but some casual spars, a few new friends, and no decisions.
Sure, they seemed glad to have her. Uncle Kieran especially. He was threatening to make her an unofficial assistant if she kept haunting his lab like that, and she still had the scorched eyebrows to prove it. Sabriel similarly was attempting to teach her to cook with limited success, while Antoinette was determined to wrangle her into babysitting with Naomi her all too devious accomplice. It didn’t help that both were aided and abetted by Gale, who hovered around at odd times just to talk and did his utmost to draw her out of her ongoing funk.
It was all getting a bit too familiar. Grayson hardly ran when he saw her now, though he refused all offers of a spar no matter how much his companion Bastet goaded him. Even Ishmael wasn’t shooting glares at her anymore when she approached his designated territory, the library. They had a sort of silent truce. He stayed in his sections – warfare and tactics, geography, and knitting of all things – and she stayed in hers.
Ione’d gotten a lot of reading done in the last few months. So much so that she was almost sick of looking at books. But there just wasn’t much else to do here. Certainly, not like there was in the city, where she could visit family and friends whenever she liked, or when she was in the Brigade. Back then, there’d always been training to do. Patrols. More training. More patrols. Rescuing Ryder from Raine. Chasing after Ophelia. Escaping her brothers and Souya. Malcolm to distract her during lulls.
And perhaps she missed that part – him – the most. He was her lover. Or had been. And while she did definitely mourn that aspect of their relationship, particularly since she hadn’t been with anyone since, and really, there was only so much she could do for herself without another participant. But he was also in many ways her best friend. Her best human friend. The person who understood her the most. He got her she didn’t even get herself. With firm advice and an even firmer fist when she needed sense knocked into her. And more than anything, he would’ve booted her in ass long ago.
Ione had never thought of herself as indecisive. In fact, she tended to make split second decisions about most things. Something she’d gotten from Souya that had often made her mother despair. But that was only until she realized she'd yet to give Azriel some sort of answer. Not that he'd pressed for one. He truly seemed content to let her do as she wished and let bygones be bygones. And the more Ione wandered around Paragon, the more she realized that her position was not entirely unique.
There were others living in the twisted halls and nooks and crannies who had nothing to do with battle but stayed here nonetheless. Sure, they helped in day-to-day living like cooking and cleaning and tending the underground garden. How the rebels were managing to cultivate an garden underground was a mystery to Ione, one she was determined to solve at some point. And Ione helped to point, did as much as she knew how without ruining anything. But she didn’t feel useful. Didn’t feel like she contributed. Didn’t feel like much of anything. That frustrated her. Made her grit her teeth at the irony of it all and want nothing more than to bash the futility – and her head – against the wall. But then, this was a result of her own making. She was useless only because she hadn’t been making herself useful.
Ione bit back a sigh.
“What has you looking so forlorn?”
She settled for an annoyed snort. “It's boredom.”
“Find something to do then,” Fenris said with a sniff, setting his head on his paws and rolling his eyes. “Humans,” he muttered in an undertone, but she still heard him. “Always so concerned with the trivial and not living life.”
“Easy for you to say,” Ione retorted with her own eye roll. She flung her book to the bed and clambered to her feet, glancing at the window where grey clouds warned of another snowfall.
Weather such as that always made her jittery and restless. It was like standing on the edge of a knife, waiting for the sky to break. And the chill emanating from outside didn't help either. Ione didn't much like winter. She was fully ready for spring to come already, for her to at least be able to go outside and chase after Fenris and Aponi without freezing her ass off in the process. She liked her bits just the way they were, thanks very much. Not frozen especially.
Shivering, Ione tugged a cloak off a hook near the door, which had kindly been brought by Antoinette and apparently once belonged to Ophelia. There was no such thing as heating in the rocky corridors of Paragon, only personal aether, and Ione hated to be cold. She stepped into the corridor, leaving Fenris behind to doze on her bed. For some reason, he didn't stick to her side as much here as he had back in Meropis. Aponi, however, just clung to her ear and went along for the ride.
Things were quiet, as they had been for the past two weeks or so. The nobles in Grayshire were remarkably silent from what she had gleaned from various conversations with Kieran, Sabriel, Gale, and the occasional dinner with the aforementioned three with the addition of Azriel, Talya, and the other Sergei. Oh, sure, there were the occasional clashes between the Brigade and the Theravada, but there hadn't been any direct confrontations in some time. Not really since her battle with Dharva when they’d knocked her out. Or “rescued” as Sabriel still claimed.
It made Ione think that Grayshire was gearing up for something devious and devastating. And she knew Azriel suspected much the same. He was in constant transit between Paragon and Meropis now. Ignoring Kieran and Gale's warnings to be especially careful, that the eyes of Grayshire were getting more and more watchful. Apparently, Azriel liked to dance with knife in hand and noose around his neck, tempting the devious eyes of fate and Kaiyu’s questionable mercy.
And speaking of dancing, Ione could’ve sworn she heard music then. And not just any music but a piano. She hadn’t even known there was one in Paragon. How had they even gotten it here? Wouldn’t it had to have been made in Meropis? Besides, who among them was talented enough to play it in the first place? Much less this well?
“It's Gale,” someone said from by her feet.
Ione had a moment to wonder if she’d been thinking out loud again as she looked down to find Inari. The small fox was gazing up at her with strangely glittering eyes and both ears twitching. Her tail was even swishing back and forth in time to the music.
“And it was actually made in one of the villages by a craftsman who’d fled the city. It was a gift for helping his family and he escape.” Inari’s ears twitched at a particularly high note, but it didn’t seem to bother her otherwise. “His wife was a noble who’d dared marry for love and not station, and Gale was the one who brought them out safely.”
Ione blinked at that information. Something about that sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place why. But then, the rest of what Inari said trickled through.
“Gale?” she questioned with surprise.
“He plays sometimes,” the vixen explained for Ione’s benefit and tilted her head to the side. “Though usually not this song.” Her ears gave a slow flutter that matched the tempo. “He must be feeling nostalgic.”
Ione couldn’t help but be intrigued. She herself had little talent in the arts, but she’d always admired those who did. Her mama had been a beautiful dancer in her youth. Still was, truth be told. But age along with birthing four children had made her lose some of her former flexibility and stamina, and now, her mother only danced at Souya’s request.
“It sounds lovely. I want to hear it better,” Aponi urged then, tugging on Ione's ear.
Honestly, Ione did as well. She could only catch snatches of the melody at the moment, but she’d the feeling it would be much more beautiful if she could hear it all.
“I'll take you,” Inari offered easily enough. She was already starting a rapid trot down the hall, something that matched the pace of a human's walk. “Fenris seems to be sleeping anyway.”
“Winter always makes him drowsy.” Ione trailed after the vixen. “Though bite him once on the ear or his hindquarters. He'll get up.”
“I'm slightly afraid to hear that you've done either before,” Inari drawled with an amused lilt. There was a chuckle, or at least, that's what Ione was calling the sound the fox made following that statement.
Ione snorted. “No, I usually pinch him. Works just as well. But not for you since you don't have any fingers.”
The music grew louder, the origin not far from the hall that held her room. She couldn’t help but notice that a door was gathering a sizable crowd of onlookers, even though it was only partially open. No one seemed eager to actually enter. Just happy enough to stand outside and listen.
Talya was among them.
“Settling in?” she asked pointedly, though her voice was soft to prevent rising higher than the haunting melody. She was swaying back and forth to the music even as she spoke, red skirt swishing across the floor.
In truth, Ione rarely had chance to meet with Talya. The vibrant woman was usually out of Paragon, down in the gardens, or prodding their associates into submission. They barely saw each other aside from passing in the hallways or the occasional dinner with Azriel and Gale. Apparently, Talya was highly placed and valued among them, though she wasn’t much of a fighter.
Ione nodded. “More or less.” She drew closer, daring to step within sight of the door and peer through the gap. “Why doesn't anyone go inside?”
“Lord Arlen hates to be watched,” a woman she didn't recognize answered in a small voice, following the statement with a sigh. The sort of girly one Ione had often heard females give when admiring their crushes from a distance.
A few of the women around her twittered. And it occurred to Ione then that the group congregated there was made up entirely of females. Save perhaps a familiar or two and a somewhat sheepish looking man hovering in the background. Her gaze flickered around, and she couldn’t help but notice the starry-eyed gleam most of them carried.
It was a bit disturbing actually. And something inside Ione twitched. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation.
“Why not?” Ione asked, hoping to reassert herself.
“It distracts him,” Inari answered as she sat back on her haunches by Ione’s feet, large ears wiggling in a cute fashion. “Or so he claims.”
Talya waved a dark-skinned hand. “He's just shy.” She gave a shake of her head, making the beads of her braids clack together.
“Shy?”
Ione found that hard to believe. Gale normally wouldn’t shut up around her, and she’d even been tempted to use a spell to silence him an a few occasions.
“Ione,” the Aponi practically whined with a tug on her ear, trying to pull her in the direction of the open doorway. “I want to get closer.”
“Alright already,” Ione muttered, ignoring the startled gasps from Gale's group of worshipful observers and Talya's snicker. “Whatever her majesty commands.”
Rolling her eyes at their behavior, Ione walked boldly to the door. The room beyond was simple, a closed window and tapestries covering the walls. The clear centerpiece was the massive piano. Ione wondered how they’d managed to get the large instrument in here, even as she slid carefully inside with Inari trotting in alongside her.
Within, the music seemed to resonate in the very walls, stronger and purer. It flowed over and through her, traveling from the soles of her feet, up the bones of her legs, and settling in her stomach where it proceeded to make a cozy nest of warmth. Ione smiled; it wasn’t unlike something her mother and Souya would dance or and cuddle to. It made her think of them, of her family, and feelings of homesickness threatened to rise within her. It’d been since the summer that she’d spoken to her parents and seen her brothers. She missed them. A lot.
Ione dared draw nearer, her training in the Brigade making for light steps. It also helped to pull her magic to a tight bundle around her body, making it difficult for him to sense her approach. She wasn’t the stealthiest of people and could be downright clumsy, but he was thoroughly distracted. It was all too easy to come up behind his seat without him noticing.
Gale had elegant fingers. Long and graceful, an artist's fingers. They didn't look of the sort to be wrapped around a sword or calloused by warfare. And yet, they were. He was an attractive man, even more so with a look of peace relaxing his features. But his most striking feature, his green eyes were closed. Hands finding the proper keys by talent and memorization. And as she watched, the song built to a crescendo, rattling through the piano and reverberating in the room. His fingers flew across the keys to find each without error or hesitation.
Aponi practically trembled with glee on Ione's ear. “It's beautiful,” she breathed.
Ione nodded mutely in agreement. She didn't want to disturb his concentration. Especially not as the music hit a climax and finally tapered off with a few soft chords and gentle strikes of his fingers. The last of the notes faded completely then. Silence followed, seeming far too heavy now that it was no longer filled by music.
“That song again?” Inari asked with a bump against Gale's leg before leaping up onto his lap, kneading at his thighs much like a cat. “You haven't played it in a long time.”
Gale's hand fell on the vixen’s flank, brushing back her winter-whitened fur. “Just felt in the mood.”
He exhaled, long and slow. Just content to pet Inari with a deep sort of affection, while one hand went to brush Quetz wrapped around his collar. The little snake stirred, sleepy in the coldness but still responding to his touch. Gale smiled at that, and his eyes fell open as he sat up straighter and stretched. Only to freeze mid-motion as he noticed Ione standing there.
Gale let out a startled rush of air.
“That was beautiful,” Ione said with utter honesty. “What was it?”
The blond shifted on his seat and then shrugged. “Something my father wrote before he died.” He pointedly didn’t look at her. As if embarrassed that she’d caught him playing.
“It was lovely,” Ione commented, tilting her head to watch as he ran one hand over the keys.
“Thank you.” A vague hint of pink rose on the exposed part of his neck. “I’m glad that you liked it.”
He was silent then. Saying nothing and not moving from his spot at the piano. Ione was tempted to sit down next to him but hesitated when she thought that he might choose to play something else. But Gale didn’t. He just stayed there with Inari in his lap giving him a shrewd look.
Finally, the little vixen had enough. “Was that all, Gale?”
“For now,” he replied, moving to look at her as she jumped down from his lap. “It’s getting late, and we’ve other things to do today.” Gale stood then and slowly turned to Ione. “You mustn’t have much to do today if you’ve come all the way out here. Or you were bored.”
“Only a little,” Ione admitted, noticing that his mood seemed to echo the song, a touch melancholy.
Had he been close to his father? It was the man’s creation after all. Perhaps Gale was feeling a little homesick himself.
“I did like your music though,” Ione added in earnest. Wanting him to know it wasn’t just because she’d had nothing better to do than listen.
That seemed to perk him up a bit. Enough for his small smile to widen and his shoulders to lift.
“Well…” he began then, casting another glance at her. “I was about to leave and visit a few villages aligned with us. It’s not too far of a walk, even with the snow.” Gale hesitated, as if to judge her reaction. “Interested in coming with me?”
It took all of Ione's effort not to shout “Yes!”
“How many of them are there?” Ione asked after the first village – a small farming hamlet called Fleursfield.
Gale had been greeted so warmly and openly Ione would’ve thought him to be their unmitigated leader rather than the mere second-in-command. It was clearly evident where the villagers placed their loyalty, and it wasn't to Grayshire. Indeed, this far in Talemar, the reach of the nobles was strained. And out here, the Theravada had more of a hand. And a useful one at that.
“How many?” Gale repeated.
His lips quirked with amusement as he watched Inari and Fenris trot gamely ahead of them, playfully swiping at each other every now and then. Somehow, the two had made fast friends. Ione supposed it was because Fenris had spent little time around other spirits since meeting and bonding with her. It didn’t hurt that Inari was also a canine. Or that Ione and Gale spent so much time together anyway.
“Villages,” Ione clarified and tugged her cloak tighter around her. Snow and dead grass crunched beneath her boots, the air crisp but thick with the threat of impending snow. “How many are aligned with you?”
Gale tipped his head back in contemplation. He looked up through the empty branches of the leafless trees and the dark-green needles of the pines. He seemed to be considering her question. Or maybe just he was finding the most appropriate answer since she wasn’t technically a rebel.
“A good many of them. Possibly most,” he finally said. “The commoners have no love for Grayshire and its rules. Especially when none of them have seen a single hand of help from them for decades or longer. They struggle out here on their own – to eat, to live, to protect themselves from the Merihem – and are still expected to pay taxes and feed the nobles in their high towers.”
Ione chewed on this. No wonder the residents of the outflung villages had no loyalty to Grayshire. To be honest, the commoners in Meropis held little interest in nobles either. There’d been lines of tension building for years, decades even. Long before Ione herself had even been a glimmer in Souya’s eye. It’d come as no surprise when the uprising first started, and all attempts to put it down quickly had proven useless. Too many people were either in on it in some capacity or were willing to look the other way. That wasn’t even considering that many of the Theravada were nobles themselves, those feed up with the shoddy treatment of their fellows.
Ione thought on that for a moment as she crunched through the hardened snow. Gale’s hand was on her arm as they went over a particularly slick patch, and he continued to hover nearby afterwards just in case. They weren’t using any of the main roads, instead preferring the game trails and paths used by the spirits. It was safer that way since they were straying a bit too close to the normal patrol paths, but it did make for treacherous footing at times.
“Where are we headed now?” Ione asked after several more heartbeats of silence.
“Mapleston.” Gale pointed towards the row of stone houses just visible through the vegetation crowding the underbrush.
Ione knew nothing about it, though it did sound vaguely familiar, as though someone she knew claimed it as a place of birth. But Ione couldn't find the face or name from her often sieve-like memory.
Not that there was much to know, she quickly realized. It was smaller, even more so than Roublesville. Little more than a dozen or so homes clustered around a central well. There were shielded gardens sprouting from the various backyards, undoubtedly protected by a mixture of magic and materials. Which was evidenced by winter vegetables and few scattered not-quite flowers that’d been given a wide berth by the snow. She could also make out water on the far edge of the village, either a wide pond or possibly even a lake. But it was difficult to tell with the snow now bathed over everything. Besides, the water would be frozen this time of the year.
Ione burrowed further into her fur-lined cloak at the thought. She didn’t fancy taking a dip and promised herself to steer well clear lest she fall in by accident. She could just imagine the scolding Fenris would give if she did. Not to mention Gale’s laughter once he fished her out.
Like before, Gale’s appearance was immediately noticed. They barely went by the first house before the people flocked to him. Ione stood to the side, marveling as Gale handled everything smoothly and graciously accepted the basket of hardy vegetables they thrust in his direction. He charmed them all effortlessly with a genuine smile and an even more genuine manner. Ione rarely had opportunity to witness Gale for the leader he was and had to admit that it suited him well. She wondered if he and Azriel ever butted heads over leadership of Paragon. It was hard to imagine that they did since they both got along with just about everyone, including each other, so very well.
“It's nice here,” Fenris said from by her feet.
Ione tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But cold,” she said by way of agreeing.
It was nothing but the truth. It was nice here. Charming even. But far too cold for Aponi or Quetz to have made the journey in peace. The only reason they’d been willing to be left behind. A good thing since the chill striking the air was fierce. Growing sharper by the second.
Too sharp. And much too fast.
Ione frowned then and glanced around. It was subtle, but she felt it nonetheless. Her senses were too wired to not taste the change in magical energies. To feel the tremble of the air around her that vibrated all the way through to her toes. She lifted a hand to trail her fingers in front of her. The tips of them tingled, and her spine crawled.
Someone was working magic. Someone powerful was working magic. Very nearby. And it wasn't she or Gale.
This was skilled. Trained. Strong. And purposefully stealthy.
Amber eyes shot to Gale, who was suddenly watching her. He sensed it, too. And though he put on a concentrated front for the villagers, it was clear his senses were focused on something else. Even Fenris and Inari had shot to attention at her side. Their ears were cocked to something only they could hear, their range extending beyond Ione's own.
“Ione...” the wolf growled.
“I feel it, too.”
Like ice crawling across her skin, trying to freeze her in place. Cold and brittle and bitter as her breath fogged in front of her face. It hadn't been this cold before. In fact--
Ione whirled. Magic spiked through the air in the same instant that she felt it press down on all Mapleston, bathing the residents in a gravitic force. Ione didn't waste a second as the fingers of both hands dragged through the air and called a torrent of wind to surround she, the villagers, and Gale.
It was just in time to prevent a wave of what seemed to be flowing ice from crashing over them. Instead, the wave slammed against a wall of wind and sprayed in all directions away from the town center, splattering the houses in a thick coating of rime and frost. It was like someone had made a life-sized snowglobe with them stuck right in the middle.
Ione knew this power. It wasn’t her captain, but she knew the owner. She’d watched him train his soldiers and all but beat them into the ground with his icy torrent. Midsummer and his magic had been going strong. And it was still second to his physical prowess, to his way with a weapon and his fists. A scary thought indeed.
Gale fought his way to her side as the screams of the frightened residents were caught by the wind and whipped away, barely audible over the rushing current. He was searching around with both eyes and magic. Having little luck with either.
“It's the Brigade,” he shouted as his magic rose up around him in a thick cloak that threatened to dampen Ione's strength.
She clenched her jaw, having realized that much. But why would they be here? Attacking this tiny village that had nothing to do with anything? It made no sense. There was nothing here, and there was no way the Brigade could’ve known they were coming. Gale had chosen the villages to visit randomly, the same as he always did.
“Why are they here?” Ione yelled back.
Her teeth gritted as the force of the cascading ice grew in strength. She planted her foot against the ground as the wind whipped around and jerked her hood from her head, subjecting her to the harsh elements. It was freaking cold! Beyond cold. It was like being trapped on a snowdrift during an ice storm. Like one of the glaciers that were said to cling to the southern tip of the continent but that Ione had only ever seen in pictures.
Gale shook his head, looking past Ione to something only he could see or hear. He moved around her and planted his back against hers.
“Get them out of here. I'll take care of this,” he shouted with his aether drawn taut like a bow and arrow waiting to be unleashed. His eyes flashed with power bright enough to light the storm around them.
“You're insane! I'm not leaving you here to deal with this alone,” Ione retorted into the wind. “You can’t fight them and protect the villagers at the same time. There’s just too many. And they’ll go after me anyway! It’s best if she stick together!”
He had no clue, no idea what he faced. Yes, he’d gone up against Duke Wyndham and High Lord Celestine to rescue his cousin Sabriel, but he hadn’t been protecting anything at the time. Just a snatch and run. This was different. There were people counting on them to work together. Ione knew that much, just as she knew there was worse to come. Oh sure, there was the main attacker here, the bastard who’d called the tide of ice. But the rest were familiar to her, too. They were her former teammates; she was sure of it. She could feel them at the very edge of her senses, burning hot and bright.
But even as that flashed through her head in an instant, Ione couldn't help but again wonder why they were here. Why the Brigade had been sent to all but annihilate this tiny hamlet. It made no sense. Nothing made sense anymore!
Something spiked to their right, effectively preventing Gale from arguing back. Ione's eyes whipped towards the source. She cringed as fire tore through her wind, racing towards them. Ice melted and then immediately refroze in its wake, making the storm that much worse as the blaze rocketed forward.
And then, Gale was there. Sword now unsheathed and raised, batting it away as though it were nothing more than a kid’s bouncing ball rather than a hurtled sphere of flame.
Ione didn’t have time to gawk. She knew that attack, too. It was without a telltale blue-green curl like Dharva’s magic, but Ione could still recognize it.
She watched as Gale's face hardened, and he stepped forward, magic rising around him like a physical and visible force. The sense of it was a great pressure, stealing the breath from the frightened villagers behind them. Ione herself gasped, and as she did, it exploded outwards to slam into a second tidal wave of ice and snow. Which disintegrated on contact, as though it were mere glass rather than frozen water that was feet thick.
The pieces of broken ice fell to the ground, tinkling like a broken mirror. Ione pulled back her wind until it lightened to a stiff breeze and saved her energy. She knew that she’d need it soon enough. Especially when she looked beyond the frost-cluttered air and set her eyes on their opponents.
Holmes stood there. Impossibly imposing as ice and snow swirled around his stocky form. His eyes were narrowed slits, and he was so stoic and solid that his dirty grey hair barely even moved in the wind. Jaw firm and shoulders straight as he was backed by two painfully familiar faces. But Raine and Ryder looked suitably surprised to find Ione there. Almost as much as she was to see them. Not just in Mapleston but without their proper captain. That bitch Dharva had to still be out of commission. It was the only explanation for why another captain would have one of her best teams.
But really, it almost seemed as though Holmes had half the team. Ione herself was obviously not helping them, and she didn’t even know what had happened to Vaughn since last she saw the murderous bastard. Where was the final one, however? The perpetrator of the fireball? Where was Faye hiding?
Gale slid in front of Ione, blocking her from view of the Brigade. Behind them, the villagers were already fleeing. Smart enough to know that they were no match for a battle of magics. Besides, they trusted Gale to watch out for them.
“Get out of here,” he all but growled, eyes never leaving Holmes.
There was something to the look on his face, something hard and almost hateful. As though he not only understood what type of man he faced but knew it directly. His hands dangled loosely at his sides, but even Ione could sense the rising threat within them. Could feel his magic as it trembled with an emotion a lot like loathing. There was a story here; this was personal.
“Leave,” Gale ordered again. “Before they think you’re a part of us.”
“They already think that,” Ione countered as she moved to his side, refusing to cower behind him like some sort of helpless kid. “Nothing I do or say will change it. They’ll attack at my back if I try to leave anyway.”
His eyes flickered to her as she said that, and she saw his jaw tighten. He knew just as surely as she did that they’d stab her in the back if given half the chance. It was better to face them head on.
Across from them, Ione watched as Holmes watched them. She saw his hands clench, witnessed the sneer that flashed across his craggy face as he studied Gale.
Oh, yes. This was definitely personal.
“Gale Arlen, Ione Tegan,” Holmes cut in with a hard clip of voice, tone short and rigid. Just like the rest of him. “You’re under arrest for crimes against Meropis, Grayshire, and His Kingship. Surrender quietly or face the might of the Brigade.”
Judging from the way his fingers shifted for his weapon, Ione could guess which option he preferred.
Gale snorted, hackles lifting in a manner not unlike Fenris or Inari. “Surrender?” His voice was ironically pleasant and almost inane. Like this was nothing more than a simple misunderstanding. “And I suppose we'll be treated fairly then? A trial and the like?”
“Of course,” Holmes declared pompously, but his slitted eyes spoke of something else. Of dark dungeons and quiet executions. The vague hint of pain and torture. Other things Ione knew nothing about.
Gale didn't believe him for a second, and neither did Ione. The tension between the two sides grew like a violent windstorm. Magic lashed invisibly between them, clashing against imperceptible walls. Any fool could tell that this wouldn't be solved with words. And if Holmes had his way, it wouldn’t be solved until there were corpses.
He inclined his head in an almost mocking move, and his mouth opened in a command. It never emerged though. It never had reason or means to do so.
Fenris and Inari darted from nowhere, colliding with Raine and throwing her to the snow. In the same moment, Holmes lurched out in a beeline for Gale, who met his rising ice with a flare of pure aether. Ione stared as Ryder, horrified and distracted by the sight of two animals attacking his best friend, was slammed by some kind of bluish-white flame that Gale sent his way without even looking. Her former friend took the burst full in the chest and went careening backwards. He didn’t immediately get back up.
Gale, it seemed, hardly needed Ione's help.
She didn’t even know what to do with herself for a second. Just standing there and watching Fenris and Inari face Raine as she scrambled to her feet. But then, Ione felt a prickle against her skin, a subtle change in temperature. She twitched and whirled on her feet, leaping backwards and barely avoiding the swipe of a flame-tipped glaive.
“You always were light on your feet,” Faye put in with a mockingly joyful voice, but her eyes were dark above the fire. She straightened with her weapon raised threateningly.
“What’re you doing?” Ione demanded, skidding to an abrupt halt as the heat from the fire washed over her. She sucked in a breath and cloaked herself in her aether with fingers itching to return the unprovoked attack.
Faye's magic rose from her skin like the ripple of a heat mirage. “I'm not the one who switched sides here. Put the captain in a coma. Formed a pact with a demon. Stabbed us all in the back.” Her normal good cheer dripped to outright sarcasm as she struck again, giving no time for Ione to reason with her.
Not that there’d ever been a hope to reason with Faye. She was always remarkably hardheaded. Once she set her mind to something, it literally took an act of some deity to make her see sense. And Ione was deity-less at the moment.
That flame-tipped blade stabbed towards Ione's face, and she danced backwards to avoid, her hands dragging through the air. Her aether twisted around her like a restless serpent as the sharp tip collided with a makeshift shield of tightly spinning air. It was times like these that Ione could hear Malcolm offering to train her with a sword, and now, Gale echoed that proposal. A physical weapon would’ve been really handy right about now. Ione would kick herself if she wasn’t so busy trying to stay alive.
“Grayshire betrayed me first,” Ione shouted, the heat enough to chase away the chill of the afternoon, even as the snow chose that moment to make good on its threat.
Thick white flakes began to drop from the sky. It rained down on Mapleston and the ensuing battles that Ione could only hear as if from a far distance. But she didn't dare take her eyes from her opponent to check on Gale as he faced the others. Faye was only a minor talent compared to Ione, but she was reckless and dangerous. And completely willing to stab someone in the back and just about anywhere else should the need arise.
Now that Ione thought about that and for such a cheery person, Faye was actually quite violent. Bloodthirsty, too. She just hid it better than most.
Faye didn't answer, instead a wordless sound of fury gurgled up from her throat. Her aether flared. Ione just gritted her teeth and dragged the heel of her boot against the ground. The earth rumbled beneath their feet, setting Faye off balance. Ione shoved hard to send the girl sprawling backwards in an effort to catch herself.
Ione drew back, hands dropping to her sides, cloak settling around her ankles. She stepped backwards several paces, not wanting to fight. She might not like Faye, but Ione didn't want to hurt her. Just as she hadn't wanted to hurt Dharva. And now the woman was in a coma? Because of her?
She didn't want to repeat that mistake. She just wanted to be left alone. To take Gale and their familiars and leave. To go find the villagers and make sure they were safe.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ione said, lifting her voice to be heard.
“Traitors have no say,” Faye shouted back and scrambled to her feet. The staff part of her weapon scraped across the ground. “I’ll take you back to Meropis. And you’ll face your punishment.”
One palm smacked out in front of Faye, pushing outwards at Ione, and a horizon of rippling orange cut through the air. Ione leapt to the side and brought up her own hands, spinning as she surrounded herself in a whirling torrent. Faye gave no chance for the heat to dissipate; fire of her own making was unable to harm her. She jabbed forwards, glaive cutting through the wall of wind and fire to slice a shallow cut in Ione's side.
A grunt of pain escaped Ione's lips without her consent. She twisted, lashing out with a foot in Faye's general direction. The woman danced around her, something mad twisting her features, making her ugly. Making her not seem at all like the cute girl who attracted boys and men in droves.
Ione sliced her fingers forward. She coiled the fire in the wind and shot it to the sky, giving her a chance to breathe without sucking in scorching heat. But then, Faye was there. Slicing at her relentlessly, driving Ione backwards as she fought to defend herself from the rapid onslaught.
The enclosure of the village houses fell behind them, dropping she and Faye into wider space, just before the sudden break in tree line. The retreat rankled on Ione’s pride, but that didn’t nearly matter as much as her survival. Still, she halted and braced herself against Faye's attack, sweeping her foot across the snow. The earth rumbled again, and Faye never saw the piece of half-frozen soil rip itself from the land to slam into her right side.
The girl gasped and knocked down from the force of it, glaive skittering out of her hold. Ione panted, conditioning complete shit even with her recent spars, but Faye was not through. She flipped onto her back and flung out another wave of searing heat; Ione twisted to avoid and let the roll of flames pass her by. It hit the ground behind her and sizzled where it melted snow on contact.
The younger woman was already on her feet, abandoning her weapon and becoming even more of a threat. All students headed for the Brigade learned to become masters at hand to hand, and a number of them refused to lift physical weapons once they tasted the glories of aether manipulation.
Wind and fire clashed with the sound of a thunderclap as Faye sprung at her. Ione fended off each blow, feeling her months of lassitude strongly. She clenched her teeth, vowing to get back in shape, to not let her complacency guide her. Not that it did her any good at the moment. Not with Faye driving her steadily backwards, intent on causing pain while Ione only wanted to end this pointless fight. She only knew how to take down, not how to stop without injuring her enemy; that’d never been a lesson at the Conservatory or in the Brigade. So Ione resigned herself to making Faye bleed.
Ah, well. Sacrifices sometimes had to be made.
Resolve firmed, Ione slammed her foot down. But she faltered. The ground beneath her lacked in solidity. She wasn't above the earth now and knew it; she could feel it. They no longer stood on soil and rock but something else. Something that constantly shifted. That ebbed and flowed like the tide. Something like a lake, frozen over by the harsh realities of a winter below a mountain's breath.
Her eyes widened. “Faye--”
“Shut up!” the girl snarled.
She pressed forward, driving Ione further and further onto a treacherously dangerous path. And Ione idly wondered when she’d offended Faye so terribly. They’d been in the same unit for nearly a year. Shouldn’t that have earned her some consideration? At the very least?
“You won't sway me.”
Faye shot out a ball of fire from her right hand, and something cracked alarmingly. The heat of Faye's rage resulted in a flaring of her fiery aether, one that tried to blister Ione's skin. And beneath, her footing shifted. Shifted in a not so good way. In a Very Bad, Completely Horrible way.
Ione dared look down, scraping away the snow with her toes. The ice was just thick enough to support their weight. If they treaded carefully.
But Faye was hardly doing that. Rather, she was storming forwards with disturbing tenacity. And with each step, heat made a cloaking cloud of steam rise.
“You idiot,” Ione hissed, trying to place each foot carefully and dodge at the same time. “Stop! You're going to get us both killed!”
Faye simply laughed. But it wasn’t the laugh of someone who thought their opponent a liar. No, it was far too chilling for that. This was from someone who didn’t care. Who no longer worried at all. Who was willing to embrace anything for the sake of her cause.
It was people like her who were the most dangerous.
Ione skittered back from her and cast frantic eyes around. Straining for a plan, for a way to lead them back to the shore. But she couldn’t think of anything, and the ice was cracking between them. There was no time.
“The ice,” she tried to warn. “It’s--”
Faye roared then. Fire flared. Heat flashed over everything with a loud and resounding snap.
And Ione felt the world drop out from beneath her.
a/n: ... Cliffhanger! Guess I should've warned for that or somethin', ne?
Coming up next time, Ione escapes from the lake's icy clutches, Gale comforts her, and Kieran decides that Ione is vastly overdue some enlightenment. Oh, and Azriel helps.
Comments are, as always, appreciated and welcome.
