“I was already on the road for over an hour when I got a call from Teddy.” Sirona stepped back outside the door. She returned with a black bag over her shoulder. “I had to turn around and meet him because he’d made all this food! I only told him in passing that I was coming here, but he just assumed that I’d know he was cooking for us. He and April borrowed a car to meet me halfway. That added another hour to the drive, but now we have some of Teddy’s cooking for the big battle! And he made you something about a toad. I didn’t ask.”
“That’s really nice of him,” Orson said. “Hey, uh, how did the meeting go with your pilot?” He tried to hide his confusion. She was totally casual, as if there was no surprise to her standing there, nothing unique about them meeting face-to-face after more than five years. “Did you see him on the way here? Oh, is he here too?”
Orson hadn’t considered that. This man was not a government pilot, but someone from her other established world. She was meeting a Truce flier or someone connected. How many other pilots could there be at the lodge? He’d seen no one but the man in the thick glasses, someone with clearly poor eyesight. And not many pilots needed vision help, even in the world of impossible things.
But who was to say there weren’t others, guests staying in the main lodge?
Sirona gave him a suggestive smirk, like they were both in on a joke. “He is here, but I had such a long drive. I might need to rest before I ask him. I don’t know how much persuading he’ll expect me to do.”
Why would she tell him that? Why would she talk to him like they were confidants in her love life? Orson’s limbs suddenly felt very heavy. He felt the full weight of his night’s training. He felt the full weight of the paths he’d chosen. He returned the sword and set it aside.
“So,” Sirona continued, her voice casual once again. “It took forever to get here. I hit a ton of traffic outside Eugene, but here I am! With all of your books, even the Italian one that drove you crazy. But you can carry those in yourself.”
“I didn’t know you were coming here,” Orson said. “I would’ve had dinner ready for you or something. But I don’t want to mess up your plans. I’ll grab my books, and I’ll get out of your way so you can go talk to this guy. And honestly.” He took a deep breath. “I’m glad we’re still on good terms, but I’m not okay just talking about this guy you’re… trying to persuade.”
Suddenly, he couldn’t look at her. Suddenly, she was too real. He didn’t want to see her. He felt like he had both hands pressed to a hole in a leaking ship. Only his active effort could keep him calm enough to speak and keep a host of memories and sorrows from flooding in.
“It crosses a line for me,” he said. “It still just does.”
She didn’t answer him, but she set down her bag and walked toward him. Orson fiddled with the lock on the sheathed sword. He twisted at the metal, as if he was actually doing some task. He still couldn’t meet her eyes.
When she reached him, she laid her hand on his arm. He’d forgotten how warm her fingertips were, even with a light touch.
“I know our recent impressions of each other weren’t that great.” She touched her other hand to his cheek and turned his face toward hers. “But I’m facing a really tough time.” And he knew those words, so similar to what he’d said, just before they’d first taken to the road together. “And you’re such a great adventurer. I could really use your help. What would you say to coming with me?”
He’d forgotten how she looked at him, like her green eyes knew more about him than he knew about anything.
“Well, was that persuasive enough?” she asked.
“It’s me?” He asked. “You were talking about me?” He felt his face flush. He hadn’t known. He truly had not realized. He’d been so trapped by fear and his own disappointment. Losing her was an unhealed wound in him, as raw as the day he’d left.
She brought his faced down to hers and kissed him. Then all of it was real again. All the hopes he’d buried returned. All the dreams he’d set aside as childish – he’d scorned those things for his own protection, but they were real and true.
Orson felt like he’d left part of himself behind, all those years ago. He felt like he’d forgotten what it meant to be whole, to be home. He hugged her to him, but he could not have her close enough. Nothing he had seen, no feat of magic seemed so impossible as holding her against him or feeling the touch of her lips.
“Orson.” She pulled away and looked into his eyes again. Hers were glassy with tears. “It’s always you.”
“I really didn’t know.” He blinked back his own tears. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, you don’t take me for granted.” She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s pretty cute. Where’s your crew?”
He gave her a wicked smile. “They’re out. I don’t know when they’ll be back.”
She returned his smile. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?” She asked with false seriousness.
He picked her up and carried her in the Aesir. He shut the door behind them.
* * *
Operative Divenoll accepted a black thermal cloak from the supply trolley on the Balor’s main deck. The garment fell across his back and shoulders and all the way down to the tips of his boots. Then he felt none of the spray of the cold sea air, as if the gaps in his armor had been sealed.
Divenoll waited on deck while the last lines of troopers received their own cold weather gear. All were given heavy rings of thermal cloth that reinforced their armor but did not impede their movements. The rings clipped at their necks and under their arms and behind their legs.
A voice projected out from speakers built into the deck. “Please collect your subzero reinforcement kit and report to your assigned stations. Mission launch in T-minus five minutes.”
Divenoll finally took the lift, but he didn’t ride to the command bridge where Baron Helmont and the other leadership would be waiting. He traveled down through the ship’s hull and observed the war machines and assembling forces.
He descended to the hangar levels. He watched the two squadrons of Saw-wings that had escorted them, docked and refueling. Pilots in red lingered near some of them.
And he saw the racks of Dactyl drones. The racks stood ten meters tall, nearly the whole height of the internal hangar. Divenoll counted eight racks, each holding twenty drones.
Tanks waited on the level below that. They had more mechanized units than they could use. They needed many to fit the provisional plans of combat against the unknown powers waiting at Knightschurch.
Divenoll saw tanks with heavy spiked treads made to bite deep into ice. He saw tanks with repulsors to hover above impossible terrain. Last, he saw taller mechs with climbing spikes and long, balancing legs.
On the level below that, Divenoll saw gatherings of Rifle Troopers and Blades Troopers, already in their subzero gear. They’d received their armament and their instructions. Some would stay at battle stations for the launch. Divenoll counted fifty troops before the lift whisked him away, but there were thirty times that many scattered throughout the battle group.
Divenoll continued on, through levels for crew quarters and for engineering. He traveled into the very bowels of the ship, down to the secret hold built for the ship’s namesake weapon. Divenoll needed to provide his fingerprint and retinal scan just to view it.
This room did not hold tanks or explosives or arcane weapons for knights to carry and enhance their power, like the Baron’s covenant sword.
Everything in the darkened room surrounded a single chrome case, no larger than a suitcase.
It bore a stylized crescent moon and stood on a narrow, black plinth. Thick cables ran from the plinth and scattered to monitors and consoles and ports throughout the room. A contingent of seventeen IHSA-era Science Officers also surrounded the object. All wore black. Even their goggles appeared opaque.
“Operative Divenoll.” He raised his ID as he stepped from the lift. “Inspecting our capabilities as we launch.”
The Science Lead, a man with no identifying marks except gold pins on his lapel, nodded and turned back to the case. “You’re more than welcome to look, as long as you don’t try to see the Eye. Then even you will need the release forms, Operative.”
“I’ve never had the privilege to view a relic from the Dreamside Road.” Divenoll approached. “I don’t plan to let the eye see into mine.”
The Science Lead smiled. “I appreciate the baron’s irony. I don’t know him well, but he kept us funded, so what else needs to be said?” He rested his gloved hand on the platform beneath the case, where all the cables met. “I can show you a brief demonstration. I believe I remember hearing of you, Divenoll. You were already Helmont’s man, before the fall?”
“I was.”
“No need to justify spending then,” Science Lead said. “I spent twenty-five years defending how the taxpayer and investor money was being spent, and we developed something of a demonstration of the eye’s power, for the Directorate Board. We can fit you with goggles and give you that taste.”
“We’ve already launched, Director,” another of the team said. “With Sir Jarod at work, we won’t feel any motion.”
“Of course,” Science Lead inclined his head. “It appears we are already on our way, Operative. I’m afraid you’re too late.”
“No trouble,” Divenoll said. “It’s only a matter of time before all of us see your work in action. A relic saved from the trove used to destroy people who keep the rest from us. Our first step to reclaiming everything. I like the poetry.”
“I like the prospect of studying the rest,” Science Lead said. “And I do look forward to unveiling this work after so many years.”
“You won’t have long to wait,” Divenoll said. “At our planned speed, we’ll be there in less than two days.” Science Lead inclined his head again. Then Divenoll returned to the lift and let it carry him to the bridge and to the gathering of Helmont’s circle.
* * *
Orson found the barn still empty. Whatever glamer and other protections guarded the building did not keep out the draft. He shivered, still damp from a shower.
A nondescript silver SUV sat just outside. Keys from Sirona’s bag fit in the driver’s-side door and the ignition. He drove it in the barn.
He gathered her gear and the large cooler he found in the back, but he left behind the duffel bag filled with books. His body ached enough from all his day’s works.
Orson stepped up into the Aesir. “Do you know what food Teddy sent along? This thing weighs a ton!” The cooler thudded against the floor when he set it down.
“I don’t, but he wants it back.” She answered him in a soft tone he had to strain to hear. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed. She now wore one of his old, faded T-shirts, with the castle and crescent moon crest. Her wet hair was wrapped in a towel. Her long legs were bare. She swung them idly and he followed them with his eyes.
He heard an inquisitive squeak and Wesley appeared from behind her. The aeropine sniffed at Sirona and she went perfectly still.
“It’s the spikey bat!” She said. “He came to visit me. He must know I have gifts from his friends, Teddy and April.” She raised her hand slowly. Wesley sniffed her fingers. “Yes, I do. They have lots of fruits for their buddy, Wesley. Lots of good treats for you.”
“He likes magic women right away.” Orson set her bags at the foot of the bed. “Well, magic women and Jaleel. Wesley really opened up to that Syly girl too. The tater tot fan.”
“Maybe he likes me for me, Orson.” She said with mock accusation. “Maybe we already have a special bond.”
“Okay. Well, be careful with your special bond. He’s usually pretty gentle, but if you’re not careful and he gets startled, you could get stabbed.”
“I am very careful.” She scratched the light fur along Wesley’s jaw. The aeropine closed his eyes. He began to coo softly. “I was hoping I would meet you. I would have been very disappointed if I didn’t meet the little spikey bat, even though I don’t know why anyone would say you look like a bat.”
“What would you have done if nobody was around when you got here?” Orson asked. “Did you have other plans where to stay?”
“I’m the Truce Master now.” Sirona gently petted the fur along Wesley’s stomach. “I’d stay in the master suite or anywhere they could put me. Or…” She shot him a meaningful look. “I still have my key to the ship. I thought about just letting myself in and making myself comfortable, right here, until you got back. I wanted to see if you left it the same and all the furniture I picked out was still in here.”
“And what would you have done if you were here and I came back with one of my adoring fans?” He asked. “I think you’re taking me for granted.”
She raised an eyebrow. “The last few months, everyone has gone on and on about how wildly heroic and extremely single you are. Heroic, single Orson is one of my favorites.” She stretched out her leg and lightly kicked him on the hip.
He caught her foot. “I think most of our old friends are trying to get us together again. Teddy even has a name for it. Orona, like we’re a Hollywood couple.” He moved closer, tracing her calf and thigh with his fingers.
She caught his hand with hers. “Poor Orson, starved for affection.” She held his hand as she stood. “I almost forgot. I have something else for you in my bag.” She stopped to kiss him and to run her hands through his wet hair.
Orson felt a light tap on his hand, holding Sirona at her hip. He found Wesley standing on the edge of the bed, resting a forepaw on his arm.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“We’re being rude,” she said. “We should be paying attention to Wesley now.”
“He doesn’t want to share you with me,” he said.
“Aww.” She wiggled her fingers at Wesley. “It’s not often I meet a new type of someone I haven’t seen before. Why don’t we unpack Teddy’s gifts? Feed our little friend. And maybe we’ll eat too. You need to keep up your strength.”
“I think I showed I’ve got plenty of strength,” he said.
“You did,” she answered. “But I’m not finished with you yet.” They laughed together. Sirona opened one of her bags and began shifting through belongings.
Orson leaned toward the aeropine. “How are you, Wesley? This must’ve been a pretty boring night for you.” He reached out his hands to the aeropine, but Wesley backed away.
“Oh, rejected!” Sirona said. “Do you spend much time with him?”
“Honestly,” he said. “Not one-on-one. He’s with Enoa and Jaleel all the time. I don’t think he’s ever been in my room before.”
“And you have your attachment issue with pets you feel responsible for.” Sirona pulled something from the bag before he could respond. “He probably senses that. And you should think about resolving that emotionally. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She handed him a small wooden sign with the words “Toad Abode” written across it in green letters.
“That must be for the toad house.” Orson laughed. “Yeah, Teddy got me this toad house because of a typo. Jaleel typed Dreamside Toad in our typewriter message to him. Now he thinks we’re looking for a magic toad.”
“Is that the little house in your closet?” She pointed to the tight locker along the wall. “I thought you had a doll house, but no judgment! I’m assuming you haven’t let Teddy know what it’s actually called.”
“I couldn’t hurt his feelings like that,” he said. “No, I just have to wait a while and say I got the name wrong.”
“Aww!” She threw her arms around him again and kissed his neck. “You’re so sweet!”
Wesley began chattering. Both turned toward him.
“Rude again?” she asked. “Do you want to feed him?”
“Sure.” He followed her out into the passage. Wesley flew after them. The aeropine landed on Sirona’s shoulder and she beamed at him.
“Even flying, he’s clearly not bat,” Sirona said. “He’s his own little fellow. Orson is going to give you your food. He’s a good man, but he had sad things happen to him, so he can be surly. But we still love him, don’t we?” Wesley cooed again in answer. “Yes, we do.”
“You know, I don’t have an attachment issue.” He opened the cooler and found it packed with labeled covered containers. “I just think it’s dangerous having pets on the road. I need him to listen to me, and he just does what he wants with the kids.”
“Did you tell your crew about Gracie?” She asked. “They might understand you better.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Orson found a case full of fresh strawberries. “I don’t need to give them another sob story from my life, and it’s not totally relevant. Are these in season for you already?” He held up the strawberries.
“They’re a very early.” She nodded. “We had a warm winter.”
“Freaky weather this year.” Orson found a bowl and filled it strawberries. He set the bowl on the floor. Wesley leaped, chirping from Sirona’s shoulder. He dove to the bowl and plucked a strawberry, eating cheerily.
Orson looked through the packed food. He found more of the tater tot casserole. He found baked ziti and another potato dish he didn’t recognize. He found four packs of homemade burgers, one mixed with Colby-jack cheese, another labeled ‘veggie’. Each casserole had an attached label with instructions, all written in Teddy’s neat block-writing.
“Has he done anything else this week?” He found a separate box in the center of the cooler, all baked goods, bags of muffins and cookies and two pies. “I see he broke out the old Aesir cookie cutter.” The Aesir cookies were colored in silver and black icing, with tiny distinct squares for the bumper stickers. “I thought he was going to be doing some work for you.”
“He has been,” she said. “We’ve never had so much business. I’d like to hire him for a residency. People love when he’s in town. But April had one of her science things so he apparently spent his evenings preparing this.”
“She has that Salt Lake City job.” Orson reached the bottom of the cooler. There, he found three bottles sealed in plastic and pulled them out. They were syrup! One was labeled blueberry, another apple, another apricot.
“He did it?” Orson put the syrups on the table. “Did April have time to help him?”
“I think so.”
“They managed it already? I’ll never pay them back for this. Hey, do you need food-food or would pancakes be okay? I have some batter in the fridge and some leftover sausage we could reheat.”
“You can make your pancakes,” she said. “I had a full meal before I left. I didn’t know what the cooking situation would be for me here. Be aware though, I need to go to breakfast tomorrow with everyone and make a Truce Master appearance, so that’ll be a lot of breakfast food for you.”
“I don’t mind.” He went to the fridge and found the batter and sausage.
“I knew the syrup would have you all excited,” she said. “I never met anyone who likes pancakes the way you do.”
“I learned my love of rare syrup flavors in your inn.” He kissed her forehead. “And I haven’t been eating much lately. I still can’t eat when I’m stressed. And food was pretty tight before I came back to the states. It’s a good thing too I didn’t go nuts with the feasting. I needed to be in top shape for you to assess my fitness.”
“I did have to,” she said. “And I think I’ll need to check everything again before we get started tomorrow. Just to be totally sure. While I’m thinking of it, what is this?” she took his wrist and guided his fingers to a thick, raised scar that ran along his side, just above his right kidney. “That must’ve been painful! Were you training shirtless again?”
“Haha.” He grimaced. “Let’s just say that my, uh, my love life was pretty lousy after we split. And the whole ‘adventurer rescuing grateful women’ thing is more dangerous than pulp stories will tell you.”
“You have to watch out.” She let go of him, but still traced the scar with her fingers. “Some people have really weird kinks, Orson. I never got into stabbing, but you need to establish boundaries with people,” she joked. “That’s why we’re so good together. Because we’re compatible.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Orson stepped around Wesley, still digging into the strawberries.
“Seriously,” she said. “What gave you that scar?”
He set a pan on the stove. “I got a call to help out an international community on an old League of Nations base in the Alps.” Then he returned to the fridge and began securing casseroles into Velcro straps. “There was this pirate group trying to rob it. Anyway, I saved the place and there was this woman who made a fuss about me helping them. She wanted to give me a massage after the big fight, and I went along with it.
“I caught the reflection of the knife before she stabbed me, but I was on my stomach. She got me right as I rolled away. I had no idea who she really was. She didn’t explain herself at all. She wouldn’t talk. She just pulled out another knife and came at me. But the sword was still in the room.”
“Did you have to kill her?” she asked, her voice flat.
“No, but she’s not gonna be massaging anybody.” He closed the fridge. “Afterward the fight… I looked up who she was. Her late husband was a Legionnaire Elite. I forget the rank, but he was serving under the Centurion assigned to protect that bastard Rineo, the one who ordered the engulfment at Isla de Manos.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning against his back.
“I don’t know if you know anything about this,” he continued. “But U.S. law had it that no one could arrest a political official internationally.”
“I’ve heard that,” she said. “There’s a pretty big extradition trial going on in San Francisco with one of the former directorate members. He pushed the Norlenheim plan.”
“Right, but nobody was lining up to arrest Rineo. He was guarded by a full, whatever they called the Legionnaire units. And he was living like some feudal lord, holding hundreds of acres and forcing people into goddamn tithing. So I dragged him out. I know you don’t like how I dealt with Hierarchia things…”
“It’s not that I necessarily disagree with you.” Her voice was muffled, her face between his shoulder blades. “I worry about how you do things. But we don’t need to talk about that right now.”
“Well, I warned them. I always warn them, and you should have heard them. They did their stupid shouting that they do. Like some prick screaming at me is gonna scare me off. I fought them. And they were really, really good. I finally got their Centurion talking when it was just us. He was weirdly polite by then, said how stability is the most important thing. Protecting that stability is all that matters, that I’m chaos and a bigger threat than any collateral damage Director Rineo would cause.”
He tensed. He couldn’t help it. He could still see the smug certainty on the Centurion’s face, before he’d donned his helmet and began their last bout.
Sirona slid her hands under his shirt again. She massaged the muscles of his middle back.
“How about after we eat, then I can give you a no-stab massage,” she said.
“That sounds great.” He reached back and touched her arm. “But I better look after you first. I might fall asleep if you relax me too much.”
“So did you swear off all human touch after your stabbing?”
“I swore off a lot,” he said. “I don’t regret nabbing Rineo – and the old guy tried his judo shit with me after I got to him. Except he was out of shape. He strained something in his groin, and he moaned the whole way across the ocean. But then that woman comes after me. Who else is waiting for their shot? But what am I supposed to do? Either you keep your head down and get crushed or you make a whole world of enemies, and the more you do, the more enemies, and I just… I thought the Dreamside Road was the end of it. I thought I’d found it in the northeast a few months ago.”
“Eloise told me about it.” She kissed the center of his back. “How you got your new crew.”
“I thought I was almost done,” he said. “I have about half the Thousand-Point compass points to explore yet, but most of the ones I looked into didn’t lead anywhere interesting. So I thought maybe I could be done when the Dreamside Road was taken care of. But it’s not, and now I have the Liberty Corps to deal with, and now people say the Virus is still alive!”
She shushed him and rubbed his back again. “I know. I know how you feel. I thought I was done too. I thought it was over, but I found someone following me, around a year ago. I wasn’t alone at the time and it was the middle of the afternoon. I knew it wasn’t some random creep.
“The man attacked me when I confronted him. He was a spy, one of the Liberty Corps Shapers.”
“They actually came after you?” He turned back to her. “They weren’t just spying?”
“No.”
“We need to go through those pictures Helmont had of you,” he said.
“The Shaper,” she said. “He made these stilt constructions. He could run up walls with them. There were people everywhere. I couldn’t get at him. He kept attacking. He sent iron spikes at me and into the crowd and at the man…”
“I know you were seeing someone,” Orson said. “You don’t need to protect me. It’s okay.”
“The Shaper attacked him too,” she continued and her tone of voice changed, grew cold. She pulled her hands back. “I finally got a clear shot. I gave everything I could. Obviously, it was self-defense and protecting other people. There were no charges against me, but my boyfriend didn’t look at me the same way anymore. It was like all the things I was always scared of, as a teenager. He was actively afraid of me! He was terrified just being in the same room with me, but I was still me! I’d closed off that part of my life for a long time, and seeing him so afraid… I felt like a monster. If he didn’t know me by then, he would never know me.”
Orson held her again, held her tight to him.
“Everything I told myself about getting away from adventuring,” she said. “That was a lie. All year, I’ve been waiting for it to get worse again. I knew something like this with the Liberty Corps would happen. You were right, Orson. While there’s anything left of the Hierarchia, everyone is in danger. We’ll never just get to live. I am so grateful that you’re here now.”
“I’m so grateful that you’re here,” he said. “It’s okay. And I’m so sorry you went through that. You didn’t have to relive all that to explain anything to me. And like I said, I knew you were with somebody. That’s why I never stopped by. I wouldn’t get in the way or be the asshole ex showing up where no one wants him. That’s also why I didn’t go to you this week. I didn’t know if you were seeing someone new. And I didn’t want to do that to you. Or to me. That’s why I needed to buy wacky pancake syrup from an Apocalypse Town. I had to find ways to imitate the food we always had together.”
“I never wanted to give you up.” She kept her cheek against his chest. “I hope you know that. We have some stuff to talk over, depending on… what our plans are with everything. I told myself that our chapter was over, that it was… not even a new chapter, a whole new book in my life, where my abilities aren’t important, where I just run an inn, where my Truce Master title is just an honor. If adventuring is over, I can’t think about that adventurer I love. I don’t know if I just needed to heal, and we should’ve talked, or if I should have…”
“It’s okay,” he said again. He gave her a last squeeze. Then he ladled batter into the pan. “Let’s just make our food, okay? We have a lot of work the next few days. We’ll have plenty of time to talk over everything.”
He kissed her again, a full, deep kiss on the lips, like that touch could tell her every idea he’d struggle to capture in words.
“Let’s not worry about any of that,” he continued. “Let’s eat. Then the no-stab massage? Let’s enjoy tonight.”
“Yes,” she said. “And then training tomorrow. If we’re back, we need to be just as skilled as we used to be.”
* * *
Baron Helmont waited on the bridge until all had departed for the night, save the current command team. He sensed Sir Jarod and his students on the level above, now hours into their work, still warping the seas for their passing.
“Lieutenant.” Helmont spoke to Greenley without turning to look at him. “Did you know that I held the title Baron before the Czar spread the rank to others throughout the Liberty Corps?”
“I did not, sir,” Greenely answered.
“It’s true.” Helmont sat in the command chair and looked out toward the darkened sea. “My father found himself in a very unusual position in his service to the IHSA. He was named Lord Commandant of a chain of islands in the north Pacific. Of course, it was the sort of place that changed hands every time the latest power reigned supreme in those waters, the United States, of course, Japan, Spain, England, Portugal, the list goes on. And the vast majority of island natives, indigenous, whatever you want to call them, it makes no difference – they were long gone by my father’s tenure. All that remained was the land and its notable geographic location and eventually this project that my father had enabled.”
“Are you discussing the atolls we left behind today?” Greenley asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Very good, Lieutenant,” Helmont said. “Yes, indeed, and through a twist of laws of nations ancient or dead or both, my father’s Baron title passed to me. And through those same laws and traditions, all land was given to me, controlled by me, and became my barony. Though I no longer wear my father’s name, I do carry his title. And I carry those islands.
“I should not have been able to inherit that position. An equally convoluted series of laws and traditions should have prevented it. But I was my father’s only son, his only offspring, the sole heir. I was singular, and so I became Baron.
“Likewise, I should not have maintained such a rank while in the IHSA. I was an officer’s son. I should not have been eligible for the Neurzodone trials. It was a chance nearly as strange as the one that raised my father to nobility despite his birth in a nation that never followed such things.
“And not only was I in the trial! I was one of only two to face a revelation from it. I was the true success. Again, I was singular. I was alone.”
Helmont sensed Greenley’s exhaustion. He could almost watch the man’s thoughts dull, his brain activity decrease. The man was half-asleep on his feet, but Helmont did not stop speaking. Greenley had no role in loading artillery or other inventory or preparing the landing force. He executed Helmont’s will, and part of that will was helping guide his thinking.
“I was also alone after Thunderworks,” Helmont said. “The last surviving Hierarchia leader, so far as we know. I was left with a staff of less than one thousand, scattered between the Pinnacle and primarily the Balor Atoll. I had the docking station of the secret starbird carrier that became the Manifest Destiny, which I could barely crew. And I had this parked battle group and the weapon they carry, which I could not crew. I’d never had fewer resources, but again, I was singular.
“For two years, I was alone, leading the Pinnacle and secretly ruling the Balor Project, not that much progress could be made here. Then I received an invitation from Senator Ilias Hawthorne. Yes, Senator. He crowned himself far later.
“Joining my forces and my knowledge with the Liberty Corps was the sensible path. Czar Hawthorne represented a sensible remnant of the old civilian government. So I made the sensible choice – I surrendered command. I allowed myself to be a subordinate. I surrendered, after only two years independent. Because every power has its limits. And we had the other personal friends and political donors of Hawthorne’s filtering in to support us, Weatherhold and then all the rest. It was an odd union, but it gave me access to the manpower I needed to do something more than merely survive. That’s what the Hierarchia had staffed me to do – just survive. The Czar let me do more.
“But then, one morning, just three years ago, the Czar decided, idly, that he wanted more Barons. And because he’s the Czar, I woke up that morning to learn that there were three other barons in the Liberty Corps. Three others now carry my father’s rank. Suddenly, I was no longer singular. Suddenly, I was one among a handful. But in collecting the keys to the Dreamside Road, and in taking more artifacts than the eye we already carry in our hold – I may be singular again.”
“The Dreamside Road will pass to the Czar.” Greenley snapped awake, as if the name of the trove had pulled him from his malaise. “When it is recovered – that is correct, sir?”
“He will,” Helmont said. “If he ever leaves his dome again.
“What is certain is this: the man I will face on that island has a similar fate to mine. He was the youngest son of the youngest son of the youngest son. If anyone else had survived, he would not have been trained or raised or knighted. He would not carry the Blade of the Unbroken Line. If the Dreamthought Project had not taught him the rudiments of the arcane, his family’s sorcery would be extinguished for all time. He is singular. Sir Merrill Lucas has been singular all his life.
“That will change in two days time. He will face another heir, and he will fall to a successor. I understand how fierce that threat can be, how quickly that fundamental identity can be stolen away.”
“Do you believe he is as powerful as the old knights?” Greenley asked. “How can he be, if his training was secondhand after everyone else was dead?”
“I hope he is,” Helmont said. “I want to face the old power. I want to conquer the old power at its highest heights. That is truly singular. That is destiny proven, destiny made manifest. I want him to be my ultimate test, and when I win, I will be worthy of all the long tradition before me. Singular.”
Helmont’s thoughts ran in circles. Was the Liberty Corps the true successor? If not, there was none.
And yet his thoughts also returned him to what the fourth mystery had shown, sword and secured key. That was all that mattered. That was enough.
Helmont felt Greenley’s mind fading, growing distant again. He did not speak. He said nothing to rouse the man. But he stared out into the sea for a long time.