[Infinity's End] Edge of Tomorrow - Ch 08
Jun. 29th, 2010 11:20 pm![[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 Eight
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The feel of something tugging on Ione's ear dragged her from deep dreams involving bridge trolls, apple pies, and the zombie apocalypse. And Ione didn't even know what a zombie was, much less a bridge troll. But they featured prevalently anyway. Causing her to blink upon waking and stare up at her ceiling in utter disbelief.
“That's the last time I eat something of Ophelia's before I go to sleep,” Ione muttered, rising with a stretch and yawn.
Something tugged at her ear again. Unconsciously, she reached up to bat at the offender, thinking it only a spider or something else equally trivial. The tugging stopped, but that was when the teeth started. They chomped right on the shell of her left ear, and a voice pierced the fog of sleepiness.
“Ione!”
Startled, Ione rubbed sleep from her eyes as Aponi was suddenly before her gaze, a frantic sense to her fluttering.
“Aponi?”
“There's a fire in the woods,” Aponi chirped at her as Ione fought back a yawn.
The sun gleamed through the curtains, letting her know that it was early morning. Far too early for Ione to be conscious and leaving the warmth of the bed Ophelia had so graciously loaned her.
“A fire,” Ione repeated quizzically.
She was still not all there as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, reluctant to place her bare feet on the cold floor. It was autumn, yes. Not yet winter. But it was still cold in the mornings and enough to make the floor feel like ice. Part of her wanted to crawl back into bed. The laziness of her circumstances had infected her with lassitude. She didn't even rise for her morning runs anymore. Between Antoinette’s cooking and her own inactivity, this lazy existence was clearly no good for her or her waistline. She needed to get back into shape or soon the only one she’d have was a sphere.
“Yes, a fire!” Aponi said with greater insistence this time. “You know, big and orange. Hot and burning. Huge plumes of smoke rising into the sky. Death and destruction. Any of that ring a bell?” Were Aponi a human, she would have thrown up her arms in frustration.
Ione mused, the butterfly’s distress finally filtering through the fog of her brain. Fire...
She shot to her feet, the sudden motion nearly knocking Aponi from the air. “Where is it? Are the rebels attacking?” Ione demanded as vigilance replaced morning stupor. She grabbed her clothes from the floor and shoved her legs into her trousers, shivering when the cloth fell against her skin.
“On the edge of Roublesville. In the trees.” Aponi fluttered up to her nose. “I can smell the smoke from here.”
Arms tangling in her sleeves, Ione rushed to the window and fumbled with the curtains before shoving open the shutters. She saw nothing at first, just the usual sight of the village, but on the far east, there was a steady stream of smoke rising into the air. And when the wind rushed by, it carried the definite stench of burning.
“What happened?” Ione demanded, trying not to trip over herself as she shoved her feet into her boots and hastily tied her hair back in a sloppy tail that would have to do for now. Her aether rose within her, eager like a young colt and ready to end an unintended holiday.
Aponi flittered around her head. “How should I know?” She circled Ione like a buzzing fly, only without the irritating noise.
Rolling her eyes, Ione wasted no time with decorum, leaping up onto the sill and sliding right out of the window. Only to promptly yelp as she landed amongst Antoinette's prized rosebuds. Thorns pierced through her trousers, pricking her buttocks. Ione tumbled forwards, face planted into the dirt.
“How graceful,” a male voice remarked dryly, chuckling.
Ione's palms slapped against the ground as she pushed herself to her feet, spitting out a mouthful of dirt and grass. “Shut up.” She tossed Fenris a glare. “I was in a hurry.”
“And look where that got you,” he returned, lips pulled back in a lupine version of an amused if toothy grin. “They make doors for a reason.”
“I know that,” Ione hissed, brushing her palms over the dirt stains over her knees. “But in case you haven't noticed, the forest is on fire. I considered that something of an emergency.”
Some of the humor faded from Fenris' eyes. “It's not the forest but the eastern storehouses,” he corrected.
Ione broke into a jog, hurrying around Antoinette's house towards the main thoroughfare. She could feel the tension in the air and heard the sound of shouting as people ran towards the fire, quick to try and extinguish the flames. Ione felt a brief flash of worry for Antoinette, but Ophelia's mother could take care of herself. Putting the fire out was more important.
“The storehouses?” Ione repeated and felt dread curl within her.
“A human-made fire,” Fenris confirmed with a short growl, disgust evident in his tone. “You’ll see when you get there. I'd rather you see for yourself.”
Uneasy, Ione put on a burst of speed, pushing through the crowd of Roublesville residents and tracking the curl of smoke in the sky. It grew thicker and darker by the minute, nearly blotting out the morning light. Though the air was cool, it no longer felt crisp. The stench of burning was tangible every time Ione breathed.
She felt it before she saw it, the tingle of aether in the air. Evidence that someone was using magic and a lot of it at that. Strong magic, too. Someone trained from the Conservatory then. Not that it answered much. Even a good portion of the rebels had been properly trained. Some of them had even been nobles before abandoning their positions. Important nobles, too. Including High Lord Arlen.
The magic felt familiar though. Almost too familiar. And there was no way she knew any of the rebels that well. Not even the phantom Grayson.
Ione frowned, not wanting to believe her instincts but forced to consider the possibility. It had to be the rebels. Didn’t it?
Shouts of rage floated to her ears as Ione rounded a corner at an outright run, boots skidding across the worn path. She nearly tripped over her own feet as she gasped, trying to change directions and dart behind a well-placed barrel in front of one of the buildings. Judging by the sign, it was the eatery. That combination bakery and general store run by Antoinette’s cousin. Joel? Job? Jebediah? Not that such a detail was important at the moment what with flames shooting out all around her.
“Do you see?” Fenris asked quietly, sitting back on his haunches just at her back.
Ione chewed on her lip.
How could she not see? How could see miss this if she were anything less than completely blind?
Rather than the masked visages of the rebels, she saw known faces and colors. The all too familiar curve of a cheek and stubborn chin. Dharva was among the uniforms of black and white, and the captain was easily directing her subordinates to attack. Watching with cold eyes as they cut down the villagers who tried to throw water on the burning storehouses. Months worth of work and storage were up in flames, and neither Dharva nor her subordinates seemed to care. Not for that. Not for the lives so easily taken as the villagers rushed to save their livelihoods. Not for anything.
But that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst was who was with Dharva. His face was blank but also hard, and the normal peachy color of his skin was nearly copper in the light cast by the fire. Ione didn’t have to wonder anymore who had succeeded her as lieutenant. The answer was all too obvious as Vaughn stepped up beside Dharva. Watching the fire and deaths of the villagers just as impassively as his captain.
A cold chill that ran countercurrent to the blazing fire swept through the air then.
The rebels weren't the ones attacking. It was the nobles. It was Grayshire’s own Brigade.
And Ione had a sinking sensation in the pit of her belly that they were there looking for her. Why else would they come to this village? The same one she so coincidentally stayed in?
Something sharp snatched onto her ear then. Ione startled, nearly smacking the offender until she realized it was Aponi.
“You bit me!” she accused. “Again.”
“You left me behind,” Aponi chastised, indeed sounding out of breath, if a butterfly could even be such a thing. “I can't fly as fast you can run.”
Ione stared at her. “So you bit me?” she demanded with a rub at the shell of her ear. “Wait. Can butterflies even bite? I thought you didn't have teeth! Do you even have a mouth?”
“I'm special,” Aponi replied, and there was a touch of smug superiority to her tone.
Why did she attract the weird ones? First Fenris. Then Kieran. And now the back-talking butterfly. What was next? A walking serpent? A man-eating fox?
“We're no more stranger than you are,” Fenris countered with a sniff, informing Ione that she had said the last aloud.
Damn but she really needed to curb that bad habit.
Shaking her head, Ione crept backwards and flattened herself against the bakery. She had no time to waste with games right now. The Brigade wasn’t there for tea and crumpets. Which they’d probably take without paying anyway. At least, Dharva would do that. The stingy bitch.
“Where are you going?” Fenris called after her, but he was suddenly there in her path, blocking her with his bulk and leaving her nowhere to sneak away.
Ione gestured broadly to the building flames. “I have to leave,” she exclaimed. “They'll stop if they don't find me. I know how the Brigade works. This is just a warning. If I leave, they'll leave, too!”
“Do you really believe that?”
Amber eyes focused on Aponi. The butterfly had taken to hovering once again rather than resting on her ear.
“Why wouldn't I?” Ione demanded, but even as the words fell from her lips, she thought them flat and empty.
You haven't seen what I've seen. You don't know what I know. There’s no justice in Meropis. Not anymore.
Hayden's words floated to the forefront of her mind, the vague reasoning behind his urge for her to escape. And she remembered the look in Antoinette's eyes, how easily she had believed that Ione had been betrayed.
“How much coin would you bet that Roublesville is not the first village they've attacked searching for you?” The fur on Fenris’ back was raised and angry, eyes flashing with a fire Ione couldn't remember ever seeing before.
Aponi hovered worriedly, her own tone sharp and chastising. Disappointed almost.
“They'll raze the village to the ground, even if it means burning you down with it.”
“Tell me, Ione, does that look like a peaceful interrogation to you?” Fenris added.
Ione had little choice but to obey, turning to watch the events with her own eyes.
The first storehouse had already collapsed inwards beneath the blaze, its supports little more than ashy blocks of wood. Several bodies lay in the road, either dead or dying, their blood painting the yellow-green grass. Even as she watched, the residents of Roublesville fled away from the storehouses, pursued by members of the Brigade.
Horrified, Ione found herself taking a step towards Dharva and Vaughan without even thinking about her actions. She watched as Vaughan ripped through a man resisting. He carried only a spade, but Vaughan mercilessly dispatched him with a stab of his dagger. And the blaze, that had to have been Dharva's work. The curl of blue and green in the middle was her calling-card. A more accurate indicator than even the taste of her magic. Her fires always had that.
A rage built inside Ione then, finding a foothold before she even confirmed the reasons why. Ione moved forward, aether rising around her with enough force to make the buildings on either side of her shake. Dharva had to have felt it. She was too talented not to sense Ione nearby, especially with Fenris at her side, amplifying her power.
Dharva turned towards her, recognition curling one thin lip as she beckoned to Ione. “So you finally come out of hiding, Tegan?” Reverting to Ione's family, the most evident sign of Ione's abandonment by the Brigade.
“Who's the coward here?” Ione let her preexisting loathing for Dharva deepen into something darker, tainted by fury. “At least, I haven't slaughtered innocent people.”
One hand waved flippantly. “Concealing a traitor is treason in itself. No one’s innocent in this world, Tegan. We're all buried in sin.” Her words were light, but there was no mistaking the heaviness in the air. The weighty press of Dharva's aether against Ione's own. Clashing where eyes couldn't see and senses could only feel.
Ione growled, having forgotten Dharva's dramatic philosophies and wishing she hadn't been forced to remember them. Lofty and tiresome, the only one who ever believed in Dharva's ideals was Dharva herself. Probably the reason why no one ever attended the meetings.
Her fingers twitched, wind pressing against her back, desperate to be unleashed. “Leave them alone.” Ione took a menacing step forwards. “I'm not going to tell you again.”
Dharva's answer was wordless, the corner of one lip turning upwards before she darted forward, flames encircling both her fists. Excitement thrummed in Ione's blood, clashing with her fury, and Ione met the attack head-on, hand whipping through the air. Scythes of wind sliced through free space and aimed directly for Dharva.
The captain leapt into the air, twisting to avoid, a maniacal laugh spilling from her lips as she attacked from above. Ione was already leaping backwards to avoid, and flame exploded as Dharva's fists hit the ground.
“Come quietly and I might not kill that girl’s mother,” Dharva called out, springing towards Ione with flame flickering across her face.
“How about I just stop you here and save myself the trouble!”
Ione stomped, forcing aether out through her toes. A block of stone about the size of her head popped up, and Ione spun, kicking out with one foot. Aether cushioned the blow as she shot the stone towards Dharva. Repeating the action over and over until Dharva was bombarded with bullets of dirt and rock, the occasional leafy twig thrown into the mix.
Dust filled the air as Dharva blocked each projectile in succession, her growls of rage audible even above the roaring flames and the shouts of the Roublesville residents. Ione wasted time fighting Dharva alone. She growled in frustration, coughing as smoke mixed with dust, clogging up her lungs.
“Fenris! The fire!”
She heard his steps, felt his aether, far more than she saw him through the concealing dust cloud.
“Don't expect miracles!” he shouted back to her.
And in the confusion, Ione wasn't sure where Aponi had gone. Probably back to the safety of the forest. This was no place for something as delicate as a butterfly.
Aether sizzled and Ione whipped her gaze towards it, eyes widening as an immense ball of flame came toward her. Ione immediately twirled, hand slicing sharply around her as a wall of wind surrounded her form. It twined closely around her body, forming a barrier that deflected the fire. The heat of it sucked at her skin, thickening the harsh scent of burning.
“You always were a dramatic bitch.” Ione coughed, unable to see anything through the wall of wind and flame.
Hands twisting, Ione threw her all into her aether, coiling the wind with the fire and pushing it into an amalgam of cyclone that shot into the sky like a weak imitation of the sun. In the aftermath, Ione had only seconds to breathe before Dharva crashed into her, and the both of them struck the ground with a painful snap.
Ione gasped as a bony elbow slammed into her rib cage, and she threw her weight to the side, trying to dislodge Dharva. The captain fought like a hellcat, spitting and hissing as she clawed at Ione's face. Her nails raked gouges into Ione's cheek, and she howled, the side of her hand slamming against Dharva's neck with a burst of magic. The force of the blow was enough to toss the woman to the side as Ione rolled to her feet, clutching at her face. She could feel the heat of the marks and blood welling instantly.
Dharva hacked, struggling for breath as her fingers rubbed across her throat, the reddened bruise deepening by the second. “You... bitch,” she heaved and snapped the fingers of her free hand towards the ground, bathing the tips in blue-white flame.
“The feeling's mutual, sweetheart,” Ione mocked with a teeth-baring grin. She twisted, dragging her fingers through the air.
Invisible strings snapped out at the buildings to either side of her, bonding like strands of sticky silk on whatever they could reach. Ione tugged, sweat beading on her brow as she grasped flowerpots and shutters, pieces of fencing, and even a child's broken toy. Thrusting her arms forward, she hurled them at Dharva and forced the captain to defend herself. Some of the projectiles were met with balls of flame, turning to ash in mid-air. But more than a few made it through.
Ione darted forward then, using the projectiles as a shield for her presence. Dharva never saw her coming, not through the weight of aether in the air and the debris. One fist slammed through a flowerpot in the same moment that Ione planted a rounding kick against Dharva's chest. Ione landed on one foot and spun all in a single motion, thrusting her hands out towards Dharva with aether streaming from her fingertips. Wind slammed into the captain, propelling her further than the kick. A startled gasp tore itself from Dharva's throat before she slammed into a nearby building, smashing completely through the wall with a resounding crash.
Panting, Ione straightened, dragging her hand across her forehead. She didn't think for one moment that the blow would knock Dharva out for long, but hopefully, she could take the others down before then.
Hopefully.
Ione turned back towards the storehouses. A few of the smaller ones had been extinguished, but Fenris was too busy fighting against the lower ranks of the Brigade to go after the larger blazes. He couldn't do it on his own, forest spirit or not.
Though she felt exhausted, her magic strained from nearly a month of inactivity, Ione pushed through the fleeing crowd. Behind her, the building abruptly collapsed, effectively burying Dharva beneath the debris. Ione wasn't worried. It would take much more than that to kill the bitch. Though there was always a chance she might be incapacitated, possibly even severely injured.
Ah, always best to end the day with happy thoughts.
Grinning to herself at the private joke, Ione called her aether towards her once again and took a deep breath, only to promptly choke on it. She lost her footing mid-step and dropped to one knee as magic blanketed the area. So powerful that it was as if a giant's hand had come down, planting itself on her shoulders. She could scarcely breathe through the pressure; her palms fell flat against the ground to keep herself from planting face-forward into the dirt.
The residents unskilled in magic felt nothing, but those with the smallest sensitivity to it were affected, falling to their knees. Some even slipped into outright unconsciousness. Ione herself had never felt a magical weight as heavy as this one, save the one time she'd had a taste of Great Lord Wyndham’s power. Back then, the five seconds of aether that had swamped the area was enough for Ione to briefly feel a stark fear so powerful that it paralyzed her. Made her heart stutter and lungs forget how to breathe.
This magic was only slightly less potent but still enough to send her to her knees. Ione's head snapped up as a sound rushed to her ears, like a thousand waves crashing on the shore. And she gaped as a massive wall of water appeared out of nowhere, splashing down on top of the burning storehouses with a great roar. Steam filled the air as the fire sizzled out immediately. Miraculously, the buildings themselves were saved, sodden but intact. Yet, the water didn't stop there.
It immediately flowed into every open space, the massive wave flattening out into a flood. Ione struggled to her feet, feeling as if she fought against the pinning weight of a great beast, thinking only that she needed to run. Her legs wouldn't obey her orders, however, and Ione could only throw her arms before her face and hold her breath as the wall of water slammed into her.
Instantly drenched, she was swept away by the current and struggled to the surface, gasping for breath. Her flailing hands caught the overhanging wood of a roof, and she grasped it tenaciously, crying out as the action jerked on her shoulder violently.
She pulled herself upwards, clambering to the top of the thatched roof and collapsing atop it like a beached sea mammal. Below her, she could hear the water rushing through the open pathways, washing away both friend and foe alike. Ione could sense spurts of magic rising all over Roublesville now. Saving the villagers perhaps?
Rolling over, Ione dragged herself into a sitting position and watched as the water receded, leaving the area washed clean. The buildings stood, defiant against the retreating flood, and the fire was left smoldering, belching smoke and steam into the sky. She coughed, spitting up water that held no taste of salt. Pulled from the nearby stream then?
Curiosity battled with indignation and a remaining desire to flee. She couldn't find Fenris anywhere below her, but that didn't mean anything. No doubt he had leapt to safety in the nick of time. It paid to be a forest spirit, she supposed. It might be nice to have power like that sometimes, though Ione didn't really have such lofty ambitions. Just something to think about from time to time.
Ione crept cautiously to the edge of the roof, trying to get a good look at the ground below her and the smoldering storehouses now in the near distance. She had been washed a good thirty feet away. Ione felt magic rising and falling, even below the swamping presence. It had dimmed, as though its bearer was conscious of its effect on others, and Ione could stand now.
She attempted to do so, rising to her feet as water dripped down her back from her soggy brown hair. The moment her weight rested on her feet, however, one went sinking through the thatched roof. Ione pitched forwards, hands pin wheeling through the air. She yelped and tumbled from the roof, landing with a wet plop on a sodden pile of something that had survived the flood. Wet leaves fell into the air like confetti as Ione struggled to extract herself from the clinging mound, cheeks aflame.
Thank Diana, Fenris hadn't seen that. He would never let her live it down. And familiars had long memories.
But magic chose that moment to spike in the air, and Ione looked up, only to gasp and throw herself backwards as two men nearly trampled over her. Scrambling to get out of their way, Ione scrabbled across the ground, barely avoiding getting speared by a jagged piece of rock. One of the two was a member of the Brigade, but the other had to have been a rebel. Only they wore the concealing masks, this one shaped like a hawk.
Neither noticed her, their magic clashing with enough force to rattle the buildings around them. The rebel wielded a sword, and it rang loudly as it struck the soldier's spear. It was a duel that Ione had no part in, and she was not eager to thrust herself between them either.
Pulling herself to her feet, Ione slid around the corner of a house and pressed against the wall, trying to make herself invisible. Heart thundering in her chest, she glanced cautiously around, senses finally registering what she hadn't moments before. Theravada and the Brigade were clashing everywhere she could see. Earth battled with wind struggling against fire, the damp scent of the water's passing clinging to the air.
As she watched, a man stepped out into the open, standing before the smoking storehouses. Ione recognized the white, fox-shaped mask in an instant. Even as the man seemed to look in her direction. Despite the fact that she was hidden by the shadows of the house, Ione had the strangest feeling that the man – Gale Arlen, she reminded herself, the rebel leader – was looking right at her.
Time to go.
Ione tore her gaze away, melding back into the shadows. Oh yes, it was far past the time she needed to have left. She didn't want anything to do with the Brigade or Theravada. Ione just wanted to be left alone. The last thing she needed was to be caught up in the war.
The forest was the only place where she could flee, and so Ione aimed for the enclosing wood, speckled with sunlight and so gods be damned inviting. She hoped that Aponi was alright, that Antoinette had come through the attack and flood safely. And she hadn't seen Fenris in a good while either. Not since she had asked him to extinguish the flames.
“Dammit, Fenris. Where are you?” Ione muttered, keeping to the shadows as she aimed for the forest beyond.
“Right here.”
Ione jumped several feet in the air at the sudden voice and whirled to glare at her familiar. “You could stand to make a little noise,” she hissed like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.
His own tail swishing behind him, Fenris stared at her. “Why’s there a leaf in your hair?”
She reached up to snatch the offending debris from where it had tangled in her pony tail. “No reason.” Ione hastily flicked it away. “Where were you?”
Fenris didn't answer, instead gazing at something directly behind her. Ione stiffened, well aware of the forest that stood at her back, rather than the broad and sturdy wall of a building. She didn't immediately look, instead letting her senses be her eyes. And in the shadows of the trees, she felt not only a life force but one brimming with aether.
Great.
She didn't really want to turn around, but Ione had never been a coward. Besides, she suspected fleeing would do her little good in this instance.
Where would she go? Back to the village that was infested by rebels and nobles alike?
Hand dangling at her side, Ione called magic to her fingertips, not willing to go down without a fight. The wind whispered to her as she turned to set her gaze on the person who stood behind her.
A rebel, she knew that at first glance by the mask that concealed his face. A dog stood at his side, tall and whipcord lean, beautiful. Its fur was a glossy black, the color of a raven, and its eyes carried intelligence. Just like Fenris.
A familiar, she realized, and the rebel's mask matched the shape of the dog's face. Ione warily looked at the man standing in her way as Fenris growled low in his throat. The fur on the back of his neck rose higher.
“Can I help you?” Ione asked, aether curling around her body in an obvious show of aggression. She would not be intimidated by some masked fool.
The rebel chuckled, tipping his head to the side. “Oh, don't mind me,” he commented cheerfully, the tenor of his voice echoing behind the mask. He lifted a hand and tapped the edge where a jagged mark intersected his right eye socket. “I'm just here to knock you out.”
Ione's jaw dropped. Were people supposed to just come out and state their intentions like that? She unconsciously stepped backwards, the rebel's posture friendly but the breadth of his magic intimidating.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded, half-considering a preemptive attack and not wasting time on the crazy guy.
“Sorry,” he said instead and promptly disappeared with nary a whisper of magic.
Ione blinked, feeling the surge of aether behind her. She whirled as Fenris snarled, darting forward, likely going after the dog. The rebel was suddenly there, at her back. She couldn't cry out, so much as lift an arm before his hand came whipping towards her with the speed of a striking serpent.
Darkness crept over everything, and she had the dim sensation of falling before it melted into nothing. Ione last heard Fenris growl and someone call her name, and then, she cursed her attacker.
A Diana-damned sleep spell. Fenris would never let her live this down.
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a/n: Excitement! Danger! Cliffhangers! And the story moves swiftly on. Next chapter brings a bunch of new faces, and even I must admit, a bunch of laughs.
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)
Chapter Eight
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The feel of something tugging on Ione's ear dragged her from deep dreams involving bridge trolls, apple pies, and the zombie apocalypse. And Ione didn't even know what a zombie was, much less a bridge troll. But they featured prevalently anyway. Causing her to blink upon waking and stare up at her ceiling in utter disbelief.
“That's the last time I eat something of Ophelia's before I go to sleep,” Ione muttered, rising with a stretch and yawn.
Something tugged at her ear again. Unconsciously, she reached up to bat at the offender, thinking it only a spider or something else equally trivial. The tugging stopped, but that was when the teeth started. They chomped right on the shell of her left ear, and a voice pierced the fog of sleepiness.
“Ione!”
Startled, Ione rubbed sleep from her eyes as Aponi was suddenly before her gaze, a frantic sense to her fluttering.
“Aponi?”
“There's a fire in the woods,” Aponi chirped at her as Ione fought back a yawn.
The sun gleamed through the curtains, letting her know that it was early morning. Far too early for Ione to be conscious and leaving the warmth of the bed Ophelia had so graciously loaned her.
“A fire,” Ione repeated quizzically.
She was still not all there as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, reluctant to place her bare feet on the cold floor. It was autumn, yes. Not yet winter. But it was still cold in the mornings and enough to make the floor feel like ice. Part of her wanted to crawl back into bed. The laziness of her circumstances had infected her with lassitude. She didn't even rise for her morning runs anymore. Between Antoinette’s cooking and her own inactivity, this lazy existence was clearly no good for her or her waistline. She needed to get back into shape or soon the only one she’d have was a sphere.
“Yes, a fire!” Aponi said with greater insistence this time. “You know, big and orange. Hot and burning. Huge plumes of smoke rising into the sky. Death and destruction. Any of that ring a bell?” Were Aponi a human, she would have thrown up her arms in frustration.
Ione mused, the butterfly’s distress finally filtering through the fog of her brain. Fire...
She shot to her feet, the sudden motion nearly knocking Aponi from the air. “Where is it? Are the rebels attacking?” Ione demanded as vigilance replaced morning stupor. She grabbed her clothes from the floor and shoved her legs into her trousers, shivering when the cloth fell against her skin.
“On the edge of Roublesville. In the trees.” Aponi fluttered up to her nose. “I can smell the smoke from here.”
Arms tangling in her sleeves, Ione rushed to the window and fumbled with the curtains before shoving open the shutters. She saw nothing at first, just the usual sight of the village, but on the far east, there was a steady stream of smoke rising into the air. And when the wind rushed by, it carried the definite stench of burning.
“What happened?” Ione demanded, trying not to trip over herself as she shoved her feet into her boots and hastily tied her hair back in a sloppy tail that would have to do for now. Her aether rose within her, eager like a young colt and ready to end an unintended holiday.
Aponi flittered around her head. “How should I know?” She circled Ione like a buzzing fly, only without the irritating noise.
Rolling her eyes, Ione wasted no time with decorum, leaping up onto the sill and sliding right out of the window. Only to promptly yelp as she landed amongst Antoinette's prized rosebuds. Thorns pierced through her trousers, pricking her buttocks. Ione tumbled forwards, face planted into the dirt.
“How graceful,” a male voice remarked dryly, chuckling.
Ione's palms slapped against the ground as she pushed herself to her feet, spitting out a mouthful of dirt and grass. “Shut up.” She tossed Fenris a glare. “I was in a hurry.”
“And look where that got you,” he returned, lips pulled back in a lupine version of an amused if toothy grin. “They make doors for a reason.”
“I know that,” Ione hissed, brushing her palms over the dirt stains over her knees. “But in case you haven't noticed, the forest is on fire. I considered that something of an emergency.”
Some of the humor faded from Fenris' eyes. “It's not the forest but the eastern storehouses,” he corrected.
Ione broke into a jog, hurrying around Antoinette's house towards the main thoroughfare. She could feel the tension in the air and heard the sound of shouting as people ran towards the fire, quick to try and extinguish the flames. Ione felt a brief flash of worry for Antoinette, but Ophelia's mother could take care of herself. Putting the fire out was more important.
“The storehouses?” Ione repeated and felt dread curl within her.
“A human-made fire,” Fenris confirmed with a short growl, disgust evident in his tone. “You’ll see when you get there. I'd rather you see for yourself.”
Uneasy, Ione put on a burst of speed, pushing through the crowd of Roublesville residents and tracking the curl of smoke in the sky. It grew thicker and darker by the minute, nearly blotting out the morning light. Though the air was cool, it no longer felt crisp. The stench of burning was tangible every time Ione breathed.
She felt it before she saw it, the tingle of aether in the air. Evidence that someone was using magic and a lot of it at that. Strong magic, too. Someone trained from the Conservatory then. Not that it answered much. Even a good portion of the rebels had been properly trained. Some of them had even been nobles before abandoning their positions. Important nobles, too. Including High Lord Arlen.
The magic felt familiar though. Almost too familiar. And there was no way she knew any of the rebels that well. Not even the phantom Grayson.
Ione frowned, not wanting to believe her instincts but forced to consider the possibility. It had to be the rebels. Didn’t it?
Shouts of rage floated to her ears as Ione rounded a corner at an outright run, boots skidding across the worn path. She nearly tripped over her own feet as she gasped, trying to change directions and dart behind a well-placed barrel in front of one of the buildings. Judging by the sign, it was the eatery. That combination bakery and general store run by Antoinette’s cousin. Joel? Job? Jebediah? Not that such a detail was important at the moment what with flames shooting out all around her.
“Do you see?” Fenris asked quietly, sitting back on his haunches just at her back.
Ione chewed on her lip.
How could she not see? How could see miss this if she were anything less than completely blind?
Rather than the masked visages of the rebels, she saw known faces and colors. The all too familiar curve of a cheek and stubborn chin. Dharva was among the uniforms of black and white, and the captain was easily directing her subordinates to attack. Watching with cold eyes as they cut down the villagers who tried to throw water on the burning storehouses. Months worth of work and storage were up in flames, and neither Dharva nor her subordinates seemed to care. Not for that. Not for the lives so easily taken as the villagers rushed to save their livelihoods. Not for anything.
But that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst was who was with Dharva. His face was blank but also hard, and the normal peachy color of his skin was nearly copper in the light cast by the fire. Ione didn’t have to wonder anymore who had succeeded her as lieutenant. The answer was all too obvious as Vaughn stepped up beside Dharva. Watching the fire and deaths of the villagers just as impassively as his captain.
A cold chill that ran countercurrent to the blazing fire swept through the air then.
The rebels weren't the ones attacking. It was the nobles. It was Grayshire’s own Brigade.
And Ione had a sinking sensation in the pit of her belly that they were there looking for her. Why else would they come to this village? The same one she so coincidentally stayed in?
Something sharp snatched onto her ear then. Ione startled, nearly smacking the offender until she realized it was Aponi.
“You bit me!” she accused. “Again.”
“You left me behind,” Aponi chastised, indeed sounding out of breath, if a butterfly could even be such a thing. “I can't fly as fast you can run.”
Ione stared at her. “So you bit me?” she demanded with a rub at the shell of her ear. “Wait. Can butterflies even bite? I thought you didn't have teeth! Do you even have a mouth?”
“I'm special,” Aponi replied, and there was a touch of smug superiority to her tone.
Why did she attract the weird ones? First Fenris. Then Kieran. And now the back-talking butterfly. What was next? A walking serpent? A man-eating fox?
“We're no more stranger than you are,” Fenris countered with a sniff, informing Ione that she had said the last aloud.
Damn but she really needed to curb that bad habit.
Shaking her head, Ione crept backwards and flattened herself against the bakery. She had no time to waste with games right now. The Brigade wasn’t there for tea and crumpets. Which they’d probably take without paying anyway. At least, Dharva would do that. The stingy bitch.
“Where are you going?” Fenris called after her, but he was suddenly there in her path, blocking her with his bulk and leaving her nowhere to sneak away.
Ione gestured broadly to the building flames. “I have to leave,” she exclaimed. “They'll stop if they don't find me. I know how the Brigade works. This is just a warning. If I leave, they'll leave, too!”
“Do you really believe that?”
Amber eyes focused on Aponi. The butterfly had taken to hovering once again rather than resting on her ear.
“Why wouldn't I?” Ione demanded, but even as the words fell from her lips, she thought them flat and empty.
You haven't seen what I've seen. You don't know what I know. There’s no justice in Meropis. Not anymore.
Hayden's words floated to the forefront of her mind, the vague reasoning behind his urge for her to escape. And she remembered the look in Antoinette's eyes, how easily she had believed that Ione had been betrayed.
“How much coin would you bet that Roublesville is not the first village they've attacked searching for you?” The fur on Fenris’ back was raised and angry, eyes flashing with a fire Ione couldn't remember ever seeing before.
Aponi hovered worriedly, her own tone sharp and chastising. Disappointed almost.
“They'll raze the village to the ground, even if it means burning you down with it.”
“Tell me, Ione, does that look like a peaceful interrogation to you?” Fenris added.
Ione had little choice but to obey, turning to watch the events with her own eyes.
The first storehouse had already collapsed inwards beneath the blaze, its supports little more than ashy blocks of wood. Several bodies lay in the road, either dead or dying, their blood painting the yellow-green grass. Even as she watched, the residents of Roublesville fled away from the storehouses, pursued by members of the Brigade.
Horrified, Ione found herself taking a step towards Dharva and Vaughan without even thinking about her actions. She watched as Vaughan ripped through a man resisting. He carried only a spade, but Vaughan mercilessly dispatched him with a stab of his dagger. And the blaze, that had to have been Dharva's work. The curl of blue and green in the middle was her calling-card. A more accurate indicator than even the taste of her magic. Her fires always had that.
A rage built inside Ione then, finding a foothold before she even confirmed the reasons why. Ione moved forward, aether rising around her with enough force to make the buildings on either side of her shake. Dharva had to have felt it. She was too talented not to sense Ione nearby, especially with Fenris at her side, amplifying her power.
Dharva turned towards her, recognition curling one thin lip as she beckoned to Ione. “So you finally come out of hiding, Tegan?” Reverting to Ione's family, the most evident sign of Ione's abandonment by the Brigade.
“Who's the coward here?” Ione let her preexisting loathing for Dharva deepen into something darker, tainted by fury. “At least, I haven't slaughtered innocent people.”
One hand waved flippantly. “Concealing a traitor is treason in itself. No one’s innocent in this world, Tegan. We're all buried in sin.” Her words were light, but there was no mistaking the heaviness in the air. The weighty press of Dharva's aether against Ione's own. Clashing where eyes couldn't see and senses could only feel.
Ione growled, having forgotten Dharva's dramatic philosophies and wishing she hadn't been forced to remember them. Lofty and tiresome, the only one who ever believed in Dharva's ideals was Dharva herself. Probably the reason why no one ever attended the meetings.
Her fingers twitched, wind pressing against her back, desperate to be unleashed. “Leave them alone.” Ione took a menacing step forwards. “I'm not going to tell you again.”
Dharva's answer was wordless, the corner of one lip turning upwards before she darted forward, flames encircling both her fists. Excitement thrummed in Ione's blood, clashing with her fury, and Ione met the attack head-on, hand whipping through the air. Scythes of wind sliced through free space and aimed directly for Dharva.
The captain leapt into the air, twisting to avoid, a maniacal laugh spilling from her lips as she attacked from above. Ione was already leaping backwards to avoid, and flame exploded as Dharva's fists hit the ground.
“Come quietly and I might not kill that girl’s mother,” Dharva called out, springing towards Ione with flame flickering across her face.
“How about I just stop you here and save myself the trouble!”
Ione stomped, forcing aether out through her toes. A block of stone about the size of her head popped up, and Ione spun, kicking out with one foot. Aether cushioned the blow as she shot the stone towards Dharva. Repeating the action over and over until Dharva was bombarded with bullets of dirt and rock, the occasional leafy twig thrown into the mix.
Dust filled the air as Dharva blocked each projectile in succession, her growls of rage audible even above the roaring flames and the shouts of the Roublesville residents. Ione wasted time fighting Dharva alone. She growled in frustration, coughing as smoke mixed with dust, clogging up her lungs.
“Fenris! The fire!”
She heard his steps, felt his aether, far more than she saw him through the concealing dust cloud.
“Don't expect miracles!” he shouted back to her.
And in the confusion, Ione wasn't sure where Aponi had gone. Probably back to the safety of the forest. This was no place for something as delicate as a butterfly.
Aether sizzled and Ione whipped her gaze towards it, eyes widening as an immense ball of flame came toward her. Ione immediately twirled, hand slicing sharply around her as a wall of wind surrounded her form. It twined closely around her body, forming a barrier that deflected the fire. The heat of it sucked at her skin, thickening the harsh scent of burning.
“You always were a dramatic bitch.” Ione coughed, unable to see anything through the wall of wind and flame.
Hands twisting, Ione threw her all into her aether, coiling the wind with the fire and pushing it into an amalgam of cyclone that shot into the sky like a weak imitation of the sun. In the aftermath, Ione had only seconds to breathe before Dharva crashed into her, and the both of them struck the ground with a painful snap.
Ione gasped as a bony elbow slammed into her rib cage, and she threw her weight to the side, trying to dislodge Dharva. The captain fought like a hellcat, spitting and hissing as she clawed at Ione's face. Her nails raked gouges into Ione's cheek, and she howled, the side of her hand slamming against Dharva's neck with a burst of magic. The force of the blow was enough to toss the woman to the side as Ione rolled to her feet, clutching at her face. She could feel the heat of the marks and blood welling instantly.
Dharva hacked, struggling for breath as her fingers rubbed across her throat, the reddened bruise deepening by the second. “You... bitch,” she heaved and snapped the fingers of her free hand towards the ground, bathing the tips in blue-white flame.
“The feeling's mutual, sweetheart,” Ione mocked with a teeth-baring grin. She twisted, dragging her fingers through the air.
Invisible strings snapped out at the buildings to either side of her, bonding like strands of sticky silk on whatever they could reach. Ione tugged, sweat beading on her brow as she grasped flowerpots and shutters, pieces of fencing, and even a child's broken toy. Thrusting her arms forward, she hurled them at Dharva and forced the captain to defend herself. Some of the projectiles were met with balls of flame, turning to ash in mid-air. But more than a few made it through.
Ione darted forward then, using the projectiles as a shield for her presence. Dharva never saw her coming, not through the weight of aether in the air and the debris. One fist slammed through a flowerpot in the same moment that Ione planted a rounding kick against Dharva's chest. Ione landed on one foot and spun all in a single motion, thrusting her hands out towards Dharva with aether streaming from her fingertips. Wind slammed into the captain, propelling her further than the kick. A startled gasp tore itself from Dharva's throat before she slammed into a nearby building, smashing completely through the wall with a resounding crash.
Panting, Ione straightened, dragging her hand across her forehead. She didn't think for one moment that the blow would knock Dharva out for long, but hopefully, she could take the others down before then.
Hopefully.
Ione turned back towards the storehouses. A few of the smaller ones had been extinguished, but Fenris was too busy fighting against the lower ranks of the Brigade to go after the larger blazes. He couldn't do it on his own, forest spirit or not.
Though she felt exhausted, her magic strained from nearly a month of inactivity, Ione pushed through the fleeing crowd. Behind her, the building abruptly collapsed, effectively burying Dharva beneath the debris. Ione wasn't worried. It would take much more than that to kill the bitch. Though there was always a chance she might be incapacitated, possibly even severely injured.
Ah, always best to end the day with happy thoughts.
Grinning to herself at the private joke, Ione called her aether towards her once again and took a deep breath, only to promptly choke on it. She lost her footing mid-step and dropped to one knee as magic blanketed the area. So powerful that it was as if a giant's hand had come down, planting itself on her shoulders. She could scarcely breathe through the pressure; her palms fell flat against the ground to keep herself from planting face-forward into the dirt.
The residents unskilled in magic felt nothing, but those with the smallest sensitivity to it were affected, falling to their knees. Some even slipped into outright unconsciousness. Ione herself had never felt a magical weight as heavy as this one, save the one time she'd had a taste of Great Lord Wyndham’s power. Back then, the five seconds of aether that had swamped the area was enough for Ione to briefly feel a stark fear so powerful that it paralyzed her. Made her heart stutter and lungs forget how to breathe.
This magic was only slightly less potent but still enough to send her to her knees. Ione's head snapped up as a sound rushed to her ears, like a thousand waves crashing on the shore. And she gaped as a massive wall of water appeared out of nowhere, splashing down on top of the burning storehouses with a great roar. Steam filled the air as the fire sizzled out immediately. Miraculously, the buildings themselves were saved, sodden but intact. Yet, the water didn't stop there.
It immediately flowed into every open space, the massive wave flattening out into a flood. Ione struggled to her feet, feeling as if she fought against the pinning weight of a great beast, thinking only that she needed to run. Her legs wouldn't obey her orders, however, and Ione could only throw her arms before her face and hold her breath as the wall of water slammed into her.
Instantly drenched, she was swept away by the current and struggled to the surface, gasping for breath. Her flailing hands caught the overhanging wood of a roof, and she grasped it tenaciously, crying out as the action jerked on her shoulder violently.
She pulled herself upwards, clambering to the top of the thatched roof and collapsing atop it like a beached sea mammal. Below her, she could hear the water rushing through the open pathways, washing away both friend and foe alike. Ione could sense spurts of magic rising all over Roublesville now. Saving the villagers perhaps?
Rolling over, Ione dragged herself into a sitting position and watched as the water receded, leaving the area washed clean. The buildings stood, defiant against the retreating flood, and the fire was left smoldering, belching smoke and steam into the sky. She coughed, spitting up water that held no taste of salt. Pulled from the nearby stream then?
Curiosity battled with indignation and a remaining desire to flee. She couldn't find Fenris anywhere below her, but that didn't mean anything. No doubt he had leapt to safety in the nick of time. It paid to be a forest spirit, she supposed. It might be nice to have power like that sometimes, though Ione didn't really have such lofty ambitions. Just something to think about from time to time.
Ione crept cautiously to the edge of the roof, trying to get a good look at the ground below her and the smoldering storehouses now in the near distance. She had been washed a good thirty feet away. Ione felt magic rising and falling, even below the swamping presence. It had dimmed, as though its bearer was conscious of its effect on others, and Ione could stand now.
She attempted to do so, rising to her feet as water dripped down her back from her soggy brown hair. The moment her weight rested on her feet, however, one went sinking through the thatched roof. Ione pitched forwards, hands pin wheeling through the air. She yelped and tumbled from the roof, landing with a wet plop on a sodden pile of something that had survived the flood. Wet leaves fell into the air like confetti as Ione struggled to extract herself from the clinging mound, cheeks aflame.
Thank Diana, Fenris hadn't seen that. He would never let her live it down. And familiars had long memories.
But magic chose that moment to spike in the air, and Ione looked up, only to gasp and throw herself backwards as two men nearly trampled over her. Scrambling to get out of their way, Ione scrabbled across the ground, barely avoiding getting speared by a jagged piece of rock. One of the two was a member of the Brigade, but the other had to have been a rebel. Only they wore the concealing masks, this one shaped like a hawk.
Neither noticed her, their magic clashing with enough force to rattle the buildings around them. The rebel wielded a sword, and it rang loudly as it struck the soldier's spear. It was a duel that Ione had no part in, and she was not eager to thrust herself between them either.
Pulling herself to her feet, Ione slid around the corner of a house and pressed against the wall, trying to make herself invisible. Heart thundering in her chest, she glanced cautiously around, senses finally registering what she hadn't moments before. Theravada and the Brigade were clashing everywhere she could see. Earth battled with wind struggling against fire, the damp scent of the water's passing clinging to the air.
As she watched, a man stepped out into the open, standing before the smoking storehouses. Ione recognized the white, fox-shaped mask in an instant. Even as the man seemed to look in her direction. Despite the fact that she was hidden by the shadows of the house, Ione had the strangest feeling that the man – Gale Arlen, she reminded herself, the rebel leader – was looking right at her.
Time to go.
Ione tore her gaze away, melding back into the shadows. Oh yes, it was far past the time she needed to have left. She didn't want anything to do with the Brigade or Theravada. Ione just wanted to be left alone. The last thing she needed was to be caught up in the war.
The forest was the only place where she could flee, and so Ione aimed for the enclosing wood, speckled with sunlight and so gods be damned inviting. She hoped that Aponi was alright, that Antoinette had come through the attack and flood safely. And she hadn't seen Fenris in a good while either. Not since she had asked him to extinguish the flames.
“Dammit, Fenris. Where are you?” Ione muttered, keeping to the shadows as she aimed for the forest beyond.
“Right here.”
Ione jumped several feet in the air at the sudden voice and whirled to glare at her familiar. “You could stand to make a little noise,” she hissed like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.
His own tail swishing behind him, Fenris stared at her. “Why’s there a leaf in your hair?”
She reached up to snatch the offending debris from where it had tangled in her pony tail. “No reason.” Ione hastily flicked it away. “Where were you?”
Fenris didn't answer, instead gazing at something directly behind her. Ione stiffened, well aware of the forest that stood at her back, rather than the broad and sturdy wall of a building. She didn't immediately look, instead letting her senses be her eyes. And in the shadows of the trees, she felt not only a life force but one brimming with aether.
Great.
She didn't really want to turn around, but Ione had never been a coward. Besides, she suspected fleeing would do her little good in this instance.
Where would she go? Back to the village that was infested by rebels and nobles alike?
Hand dangling at her side, Ione called magic to her fingertips, not willing to go down without a fight. The wind whispered to her as she turned to set her gaze on the person who stood behind her.
A rebel, she knew that at first glance by the mask that concealed his face. A dog stood at his side, tall and whipcord lean, beautiful. Its fur was a glossy black, the color of a raven, and its eyes carried intelligence. Just like Fenris.
A familiar, she realized, and the rebel's mask matched the shape of the dog's face. Ione warily looked at the man standing in her way as Fenris growled low in his throat. The fur on the back of his neck rose higher.
“Can I help you?” Ione asked, aether curling around her body in an obvious show of aggression. She would not be intimidated by some masked fool.
The rebel chuckled, tipping his head to the side. “Oh, don't mind me,” he commented cheerfully, the tenor of his voice echoing behind the mask. He lifted a hand and tapped the edge where a jagged mark intersected his right eye socket. “I'm just here to knock you out.”
Ione's jaw dropped. Were people supposed to just come out and state their intentions like that? She unconsciously stepped backwards, the rebel's posture friendly but the breadth of his magic intimidating.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded, half-considering a preemptive attack and not wasting time on the crazy guy.
“Sorry,” he said instead and promptly disappeared with nary a whisper of magic.
Ione blinked, feeling the surge of aether behind her. She whirled as Fenris snarled, darting forward, likely going after the dog. The rebel was suddenly there, at her back. She couldn't cry out, so much as lift an arm before his hand came whipping towards her with the speed of a striking serpent.
Darkness crept over everything, and she had the dim sensation of falling before it melted into nothing. Ione last heard Fenris growl and someone call her name, and then, she cursed her attacker.
A Diana-damned sleep spell. Fenris would never let her live this down.
a/n: Excitement! Danger! Cliffhangers! And the story moves swiftly on. Next chapter brings a bunch of new faces, and even I must admit, a bunch of laughs.
