Despite the morning hour, the keep atrium was nearly empty when the trio entered. A few aides and soldiers chatted quietly in corners of the room and a messenger ran past them out the door, not sparing the three of them a glance.
The place was even grander and more intimidating than Evie had imagined, with high ceilings adorned with faded murals and old flags hanging down, their colors dulled by time. But rather than invoking awe or even security, the towering stone walls felt like they were built atop her chest, crushing her lungs and making it hard to draw breath. A long banner hung down from each side of the massive archway leading out of the room. One depicted Gavin Kalanick, the other Tirelle Edson – each face frozen in an eternal roar as if trying to outdo each other in their ferocity. If their purpose was to scare away those who didn’t belong, it was working.
It didn’t help that she could feel the fury radiating from behind her like a raging bonfire. They had both let their Tier 2 forms go, but the sergeant’s clomping footsteps and the seething breaths she audibly exhaled were a stark contrast to the general’s calm, measured pace. Now that the fight had ended and Evie’s adrenaline had gone with it, she didn’t dare look back and anger the woman further, but she could still feel the burning glare stinging the back of her neck.
As they walked deeper into the keep, the atmosphere grew more oppressive. The corridors were lined with portraits of fallen soldiers, their stern faces watching over the passage with silent judgment. Each turn, each staircase, felt like it was leading her deeper into a place where she wasn’t welcome. She had waited all her life for this moment, but now that she was inside, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to ask the questions, let alone hear their answers.
It was both an eternity, and an eternity too soon when they finally reached the top floor and walked into a hallway with a pair of intricately carved, wooden doors at the far end. Two guards stood at attention at either end of the doorway, each giving a crisp salute as the general continued his measured gait down the hall. The two women waited like scolded schoolchildren behind the general as he held his hand up to the door, pausing. The moment stretched, like his hand was moving through molasses as it rapped once, then twice against the hard wood, the sharp sounds echoing through Evie’s ears.
“Who is it?” The female voice from the other side was sharp and clearly irritated. “I said not to disturb us.”
“It’s Jason, ma’am. It’s important.”
There was a long pause before an audible, drawn-out sigh.
“Very well, let him in.”
The two guards moved without speaking, each grabbing one handle and pulling the double doors open towards them.
The room was smaller and more mundane than the medieval-style throne room Evie had expected. Rather than an epic gallery with a long red carpet leading up to a dais, there was a simple sitting room with a set of three couches set around a stone table in the middle. The ceiling was tall in the room’s center, but shortened considerably on its edges, almost domelike. The single chandelier hanging above the stone table barely lit the alcoves and left the corners of the room in almost complete darkness. Tinted glass windows looked out on simple stone balconies ringing the room’s outside, providing an excellent vantage of everything happening on the keep’s grounds.
The two stewards sat in the room’s center; one of them, the woman, sat straight upright, staring coldly at the three of them as they walked in. The other sat with his feet up on the table, absently swirling a glass of some type of liquor without looking up. Evie’s feet gave up and stopped moving as she did everything in her power to stop herself from gaping at the two legends made flesh. She didn’t need an introduction to recognize two of the figures she’d seen paintings, read stories, and heard songs about her entire life.
And they did not disappoint. Katrina McIntyre, looked every bit as stern, serious, and poised as she did on each recruitment poster. Her spine straight as an arrow, gray eyes piercing into her. And despite Jaekwon Park’s casual posture and easy smile, the lithe muscle running down his bare forearms and veins protruding from the back of his hands spoke of a man who could become very dangerous, very quickly. Neither one of them rose to greet them, but Evie saw the stewardess’ displeasure deepen as she saw first her daughter, then Evie standing behind the general.
“What is this Jason?”
“I found these two dueling in the courtyard.”
“I thought you said she got in a fight with her old classmate in the hallway. I don’t recognize this girl.”
“That… also happened.”
The general fidgeted slightly with his uniform, his voice betraying a slight tinge of discomfort for the first time.
“Explain yourself Seraphina.”
The sergeant’s already red face darkened further with a mixture of embarrassment and anger – Evie would have reveled in her humiliation if she wasn’t so busy trying to will the floor to swallow her whole.
“She attacked me first! She was trying to force her way into the keep!”
“That’s not true!”
All eyes turned towards Evie and her head whirled from side to side as if to figure out who had spoken before she realized it was her own voice and felt her face grow crimson as well. Thankfully, the general saved her from going any further.
“There’s something else you should know, Stewardess. Seraphina summoned her Tier 2 form and… this girl had one as well.”
The stewardess let in a sharp intake of breath and the steward whistled, sitting up and shaking his head.
“Another one… I can’t believe it.”
“Another one? What does he mean?”
Evie’s mind raced, running a hundred miles a minute and nowhere at the same time. She caught a glimpse of the sergeant who also looked dumbfounded. Before she could catch-up the stewardess’ piercing eyes alighted upon her and she felt her heart freeze in her chest.
“What’s your name, girl?”
“E-Eva Victoria I-Ivans.” She pinched herself on the leg hard, hating how her voice shook under the stewardess' gaze, and took a deep breath before continuing. “But everyone calls me Evie.”
“And what brings you here?”
The steward’s voice was gentle, almost kind, and Evie grabbed for it like a lifeline in a storm and held on as tight as she could.
“I came to find out about my mother!” The words tumbled from her tongue as if in a rush to escape before they got trapped inside. “We were in Richmond, you see, and there was this juggernaut, and she died, but then I found this letter, and she said to come here. You see? Please? Let me just ask a few questions?”
She heard more audible inhales behind her, but she had no mind for it. All of her exhaustion and fear of being rejected had tumbled from her with the words and Evie felt herself shaking, barely able to stand. She willed herself not to cry. To be proud and strong, and for once, her body acceded, if only slightly, and her defiant visage was only slightly tarnished by the trembling of her lower lip.
To her surprise, the stewardess stood up and walked over, putting a firm hand on Evie’s shoulder, and guided her over to the couch.
“Will you make a kettle of tea, Jaekwon?”
“Uh, yes, of course.”
“Leave us, Seraphina. You too, Jason.”
“You’re just going to take her word for it? Just like that?”
“Now, Seraphina.”
The sergeant looked like she wanted to argue further, but the stewardess left no room for argument. She turned and led Evie to a seat leaving the sergeant staring at their backs. She spun sharply and stormed after the general, slamming the door behind her and leaving the three of them alone.
***
“There now, start when you’re ready.”
Stewardess McIntyre let her hand rest on Evie’s wrist as she stared silently into the cup of tea. Instead of drinking, she let it rest underneath her, steam rising and warming her face against the chilly keep air. She had been sitting there silently for several minutes – against all odds she was finally here, yet the words that had felt so easy to her as she practiced them the night before now stuck in her throat. The stewards were patient, though; they didn’t push her. And after a long time had passed, she started to speak.
“I’ve never known my father. For as long as I can remember it was only ever mom and me. She was from Washington, you see, and so nobody around us in Richmond knew her from before. We settled in there, and we were ordinary and did the best we could. She was a [Healer], worked in the clinic and supported the militia when she was needed. She wasn’t the only single parent around, not by a long shot. I thought my father died in the war or was just never there… Except she never would say a thing about my father, even when I begged and begged.
“Two years ago, the fort got attacked – it was one of the worst ones we ever faced – and mom got hurt, badly. The [Healers] did enough to stave it off for a time, but there’s no recovering fully from a Virus wound like that. Nobody else knew, not my friends or my teachers, but she was dying, had been dying for a long time, when it happened.
“I turned 18 last week. I went out celebrating with my friends and didn’t get home until late at night. I was only asleep for a few hours when something woke me up. I’m not sure what it was, but when I opened my eyes, the house was full of Virus. We killed a few and tried to get away, but there was a juggernaut in the kitchen. Mom made me stay back while she fought it, but I tried to help anyway.”
There was a slight hitch in her throat, but, even after just a week, it wasn’t the first time she’d told the story and the memory had lost some of its hold over her. There were no more tears left for her to cry.
“I messed it up of course, I had no chance against that thing. At least how I was anyway. It stopped me so easily, snapped my sword straight in two. And I knew I was dead. I closed my eyes, hoped it would be fast. Hoped it wouldn’t hurt… But she threw herself in the way. And that was it. No final words. No goodbyes.
“Still, I knew mom only bought me a few moments – there was no way I was getting out of there. I knelt there beside her body and the juggernaut walked over to me, and something… happened. It… spoke to me. I wasn’t expecting–”
“Wait, go back.” Steward Park interrupted for the first time. “It spoke to you?”
“Yes… I thought it was strange, but I’d never seen a juggernaut before. I assumed them speaking was something the higher-ups, I mean…” Evie blushed looking up at the stewards. “You… kept secret for some reason.”
The two stewards looked at each other, and Evie didn’t miss the consternation on their faces. When Steward Park responded it was hesitant and slow.
“No… We’ve both fought hundreds of juggernauts and far nastier things and neither of us have ever heard them make a sound, let alone speak.”
“Maybe Eytan?”
The doubt on Stewardess McIntyre’s face was plain.
“He would have told us that at least… What did the juggernaut say?”
“It said that it had been looking for me. And something about the hope of humanity? And then it said goodbye and swung at me.”
“That’s it?” The stewardess’ voice was full of disbelief and she eyed Evie skeptically. “It just wanted to gloat and say goodbye?
Evie bit her lip hard, staring down into the dark liquid resting in her hands. That wasn’t it. There had been something else, but for some reason she wasn’t ready to share that yet. Instead she nodded once, not raising her eyes as if the stewards could look straight through them and see her omission.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“And that’s when you awakened?”
“Yes. I awakened and Victoria helped me kill them.”
“So what brought you here?”
“This.”
Evie pulled the letter out of her bag and handed it to the steward. He read it quickly before handing it to Stewardess McIntyre who spent a longer time perusing it. Finally, she folded the letter neatly along its existing creases and handed it back to Evie.
“What was your mother’s name?”
“Anastasia Ivans, do you know her?”
Evie tried to keep the pleading note out of her voice as she felt her heart lift with hope like a sputtering candle in the wind. She looked up at the stewards, trying to identify any flicker of recognition in their faces, but she felt that hope extinguish as one steward and then the other shook their heads in confusion.
“I almost expected to after hearing that story.”
Steward Park gave a mirthless chuckle.
“Nothing? You really know nothing?”
“I’m sorry you came all the way here and we couldn’t give you more.”
The stewardess’ eyes were filled with sympathy but she also said nothing about Evie’s mother. All three of them were silent for a painfully long time. Evie fiddled with her teacup, knowing there was little more to be gained from the conversation, but also not able to bear letting it end here. Finally the stewardess spoke again,
“How did you get here from Richmond? A caravan?”
“Yes…” Evie almost laughed because it felt like the only thing she could do. “The leader is a friend of mine, a mentor too. He didn’t want to take me, but he let me come after I showed him Victoria.”
For the first time since they had been alone together, Evie saw the stewardess’ stern glare reemerge as she looked down at her with disapproval.
“You shouldn’t go showing that off to just anyone.”
Steward Park just laughed, however, scratching the back of his head.
“Well that cat’s out of the bag!”
“I did what I had to.” Evie folded her arms and took a sip of the tea for the first time. It was still hot and very strong – she almost spit it out but forced herself to swallow the small mouthful. “Besides, I knew I could trust the caravaneer. He’s as strong and honorable as anyone. Said he even fought with you, Stewardess.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, his name’s Darius Lyons.”
“Oh, Darius!” A genuine grin replaced the persistent frown on the stewardess’ face for the first time. “He is a good man. So he took you under his wing, huh? Good for you.”
Evie smiled back, a little warmth filling at her at seeing the expression on the stewardess’ face. Nothing she could have said would have made her think poorly of the man, but it was still good to hear that someone like Stewardess McIntyre held Darius in high esteem.
“Well I’m sorry there’s nothing more we could give you.” The stewardess rose, patting her arm one more time. “What are you planning to do now?”
“I don’t know…”
“Well… Why don’t you enlist here? It seems like you recently came of age, and we’re putting together a new unit that I think you would be a welcome part of.”
“With your daughter?”
Evie almost immediately clapped both hands to her mouth, covering the look of derision, then horror that crossed her face.
“Evie! Time to get a hold of yourself… One second you’re a stammering mess, the next you’re saying the first thing that comes to your mind!”
But, thankfully, the stewardess only smiled.
“Yes. I think you might be exactly what that girl needs… She could use someone else to challenge her.”
The stewardess walked over to the door, beckoning to Evie, but then stopped and turned back to the other side of the room.
“Let’s let that be that for now. Unless… you have anything you want to add Eytan?”
Evie froze in the middle of standing up. Her head slowly circled around to where the stewardess was looking and saw a third person who had somehow managed to evade her notice. The man was turned away from her, revealing a bare back criss crossed with more than a dozen scars. Some were old and shallow, while others were red and puckered as if they’d only just healed. Slowly, he turned to face the stewardess, with an unapologetic look on his face. He held a glass of whiskey up to his face and took a long sip.
Eytan Kalanick was every bit the living legend, but not in the way Evie had expected. He was tall, taller than the other stewards and even Sergeant McIntyre. There was no gleaming armor or flowing clothes, instead he only wore a pair of loose trousers. The scars from his back were mirrored on his chest, cutting up his neck and onto his square chin and narrow cheeks. But rather than being ugly, their presence was almost dignifying. Together with his silver streaked hair, and crow’s feet beside his eyes, he looked weathered, almost ancient and certainly more different from the figure portrayed in the murals than either of the other stewards.
Yet, there was something undeniably magnetic about him. Despite the roughness, the scars, there was a fire in his dark eyes that were almost impossible to meet. He was more raw, more real than a pristine hero from the old stories. The kind of man who had been in fight after fight always surrounded by devastation. The kind of man who had survived those fights.
“Ah, you caught me, Katrina.” Steward Kalanick’s calm voice was deep and gravely as if the whiskey was needed to wash away an accumulation of dirt from the back of his throat. “I was hoping to get this bottle and be out of here before you noticed.”
The stewardess sniffed, folding her arms.
“How long was it this time? Six days? Seven? You’re going to get yourself killed, Eytan. We need you here.”
“Don’t bother Katrina. You know he won’t listen.”
Steward Park sighed and walked over to Eytan, giving him a slap on the shoulder. He glanced at the bottle the man was holding and poured himself generous helping into his own, now empty, glass.
“Good bottle this one… Not many left.”
Steward Kalanick gave him a scowl, pulling the bottle away and sticking it behind his back.
“Regardless… What was your question, Katrina? I have been away a long time and I do not want company.”
Evie was sitting back down trying to fade into the upholstery. It had felt like the stewards had forgotten she was there, but she surreptitiously poked her head back up as the conversation returned to her.
“I asked if you knew a woman named Anastasia Ivans.”
Once again Evie’s heart clenched, barely daring to hope any more, but unable to completely relinquish it.
“Ivans… I don’t know that name. But the first name, Anastasia… It’s not that common a name…”
Evie saw the look on the steward’s face and a thunderbolt went through her chest. He knew something, she was sure of it. There was a distant, almost sad, look of reminiscence on his face. She sat there, quietly, letting the stewardess continue the conversation and barely daring to breathe.
“Who are you thinking of, Eytan?”
“I’m surprised you don’t remember her, she worked in your hospital.”
“Thousands of people worked in that hospital.”
“Yes, but you met Anastasia another time. The same night you met me for the first time.”
Evie did not notice the sudden look of shock and realization on the Stewardess McIntyre’s face or that of confusion on Steward Park’s. Her eyes were fixed on Steward Kalanick, and for a moment, there was nothing else in the world besides his voice and the slow, almost hypnotic swishing of the whiskey in his glass. His voice warped in Evie’s ears as if coming from a different time and place.
“Don’t you remember that party? It was right after I awakened and we got the second key. Probably one of the only times we were all together. Gavin hosted of course… My brother could never resist a chance to be the center of attention. But I remember how proud Daniel was to introduce us to you and little Seraphina. She was so small then… Just one year old.
“There were 13 of us, counting Barney and Octavion. Me and Gavin. You, Daniel, and Seraphina. Fayed and Ramon – they thought they were being so sly, always finding reasons to leave the room together, but even I knew what they were up to. Jaekwon, Marie-Alice, and Tirelle. And then Tirelle’s sister, Anastasia. Anastasia Edson.”
“Anastasia Edson. Anastasia Edson. She worked in your hospital. Anastasia Edson.”
Eytan continued talking, but none of it reached Evie. The teacup fell from her numb fingers, spilling brown liquid and ceramic shards across the stone floor. All three stewards turned to look at Evie. Someone may have said something, but there was nothing she could hear above the sound of the blood roaring in her ears.
“Anastasia Edson.”
“Who is this?”
“Seriously, Eytan?” Steward Park shot him an incredulous look. “How could you not notice her sitting there?”
Stewardess McIntyre returned to the couch and put a hand on Evie’s shoulder.
“This, is Eva Victoria Ivans. She came here from Richmond to ask if we knew anything about her mother, Anastasia.”
Now it was Eytan’s turn to look slack jawed.
“That’s… impossible… Anastasia didn’t have a daughter.”
“Apparently, she did.”
The stewardess handed him the letter and Steward Kalanick looked down at it. He scanned through it quickly and then his eyes bulged.
“No… How old are you, girl?”
“Eighteen.”
Evie’s voice was distant, her eyes unable to leave the scattered shards on the ground. When she didn’t add anything else, Steward Park continued for her.
“Yes, she said her birthday was last week.”
“Last week?!”
Steward Kalanick’s voice rose and his face turned even paler. He walked over and he knelt down in front of Evie, ignoring the broken pottery. He put his hands on her shoulders and she found herself looking into his eyes. Eyes that had been too intense for her to even look at, but now cried out with bare desperation.
“As in February 18th? 2021?”
“Yes, Justice Day.”
“So that’s it.”
As the words tumbled from the steward’s mouth, he flopped back, falling against the edge of the table. Evie stared down at him, her curiosity breaking her out of her shock.
“I-I don’t understand. What does that have to do with anything?”
“You were born. On Justice Day. In Fort Washington, I’m assuming?”
“So what? I’m sure other children were born that night...”
Evie trailed off. She had known that, of course. It was interesting, but not unique. There were eight different memorial days, honoring each of the originals who had fallen. Plenty of people were born on those days. Sure, she had been born on the Justice Day. The day Marie-Alice Hansdottir had made her last stand to save Fort Washington. Marie-Alice the…
“Oh my heroes…”
A thought flashed through Evie’s mind and together with it, a jolt of memory.
“Applied skill, [Guardian Angel], activated. Uses remaining, 1 of 3.”
“1 of 3… 1 of 3!”
She had been too scared, too full of sorrow, too shocked to consider this the first time she had heard it. When had the first use been? Now she knew.
The other stewards stared at them, eyes wide with curiosity, but neither Evie nor Steward Kalanick continued. Finally, Stewardess McIntyre spoke.
“What are you getting at, Eytan? Are you saying that the most vicious attack the Virus have ever made on any fort was because of the birth of Tirelle’s niece? That doesn’t make sense. The offspring of Tier 2 heroes are powerful, but never before and never after that day did the Virus throw so much at attacking us. Not on Seraphina’s birthday, not even when all of you attacked the Tower.”
“I…”
Steward Kalanick paused and looked at Evie. His eyes shifted several times between hers’ and the other stewards’ before finally resting back on Evie’s.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?!”
The words came from all three of them in unison. Evie and both of the other stewards looked at Steward Kalanick with a look of such extreme bewilderment and infuriation that it would have been almost comical had anyone else been watching. Evie looked down at the man, collapsed on the ground like his whole world had been turned upside down and refused to believe for an instant that he wasn’t leaving something out. Judging from their looks, the other stewards felt the same way, but Steward Kalanick merely shrugged, sitting up and brushing teacup remnants from his back. When he spoke, his voice felt resigned, and more than that, old.
“Look… The fact that you appear to be related to Tirelle and that you were born in Washington on Justice Day can’t be a coincidence. The face that you’re here, as a Tier 2 hero no less, is proof of that. But I’m not going to sit here and make conjectures about what may or may not have happened that night. I truly don’t know.”
“But you have them? Conjectures that is.”
Evie’s voice was pointed, rude even, but she was beyond caring. She had learned so much, but still didn’t have the answer to the question she came all this way to ask.
“I didn’t come here to find out who my aunt was. I came here to know who my father was. To find out why my mother would never speak about him.”
“I wish I knew more, Eva Victoria, I truly do.”
The steward looked into Evie’s eyes and she felt a slight bit of warmth, of familiarity, at hearing him speak her name. She could see the pain in his eyes; the loneliness too. She recognized those feelings instantly because they mirrored her own. For the first time, she realized that she was talking to human beings and not to personifications of archetypes or ancient heroes. And he had used her name. None of the other stewards had done that. And perhaps, that made her trust him a little bit more.
“There’s something I left out. About what the juggernaut said to me.”
Her voice was soft, slow. She could feel the other stewards watching her, but she held only Steward Kalanick’s eyes. She took a deep breath.
“It called me ‘daughter of heroes’... Is it possible… that… My father was your brother? That my father was Gavin Kalanick?”
She heard the two stewards behind her inhale sharply, but again, her eyes focused on Steward Kalanick’s. She studied them with all the focus she could muster, doing anything she could to predict what he was going to say. The pain in his eyes intensified, forming a deeper sadness than she’d ever seen in a person’s eyes before.
Not the hurt she’d seen in Mia’s eyes when Evie had told her she was leaving Richmond nor the sharp agony she’d seen in her own eyes every day she looked in the mirror since her mother’s death. These eyes had layers and layers of desolation and misery that went so deep she knew she’d get lost in them before ever finding the bottom. Eyes so deep with anger and loss that she could hardly comprehend what someone had to experience to have eyes that look like that.
Slowly, the steward shook his head, eyes never leaving Evie’s
“There was only one person my brother loved.” His voice was barely even a whisper and Evie found herself leaning closer to hear it. Her heart thudded in her chest with anticipation. “But it wasn’t Anastasia Edson.”