Chapter 33 – Resurgence

Linton took his first clean breath.

He sat up with difficulty, trying not to bend his torso to avoid inflaming the pain in his chest. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, limbs shaky but responsive.

“Doc?” He called. No response. “Doc, you there, pal?”

Standing up, he stumbled around the room to find clothes. He managed to pull on some pants and a hoodie. After that, he wandered the unfamiliar house in search of food to quiet his rumbling stomach.

There was a plastic bag filled with groceries in the other room. While making a sandwich with one hand, he dug through a smaller bag of medical supplies to find some painkillers. Tossing aside bandages and cough medicine, he found a small bottle that looked interesting.

The bottle contained small strips of flaky bark. It was clearly homebrewed, as the label on the front simply read ‘Instant pain relief!’, but he was desperate enough to try it. He took out one of the pieces and began to gnaw on it. It tasted like boot leather, but he kept chewing.

“What’s the worst thing that can happen?” he asked himself. “I die? That might be an improvement at this point.”

He swallowed the bark and began eating his sandwich. First bite in, Cat walked through the door, followed by Aeva, Doc, and Frost.

“Hey guys,” Linton said.

“Linton!” Cat squealed. She ran up to him and gave him a hug so tight it had him hissing at the pain. “You’re still alive, you blue fucker.”

“I know. Unbelievable, right?”

Cat pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “Did I graduate from school? Important question.”

“What?”

“Answer.”

“No, you dropped out, you weirdo.” He looked to the others for support, but they just shrugged.

Finally, Cat let him go. “Okay, he isn’t crazy anymore. Well, he’s back to the normal amount of crazy.”

“I see your appetite has returned,” Doc said, observing the half-eaten sandwich in Linton’s hand. “That’s good. Very good.”

There was a lull in the conversation, and the other Bluebirds looked at each other. Stress, exhaustion, and apprehension radiated from their auras.

“Listen, boss,” Frost said, “I know it’s not a great time to spring this on you, but…”

“Hunter’s dead, isn’t he?” Linton asked.

Frost paused. “Yeah.”

“Then that means Drakemyth is dead.”

“Yeah.”

“He did not take his own life,” Aeva said. “He protected us from Couldess while we fled from Drakemyth’s fortress.”

Linton nodded. “He went out a hero, then. I’m sure that’s the way he would have wanted it.”

The rest of them gathered around the table while Doc gave him an impromptu check-up. He still had a slight fever, but his lungs seemed to be healing as well as could be hoped. Another application of Doc’s vivimancy eased his senses a little.

“We’ve got more bad news,” Cat said. “The goddesses are preparing to launch their final attack on the MOW one day from now.”

“That’s certainly not the outcome I’d hoped for,” Linton said. “What about the archons? Has Couldess found a replacement for Drakemyth?”

“Not yet. It appears he’s having trouble finding someone to fill the role.”

“Hmm. And their morale?”

“Can’t say for myself. The priests say the MOW is running scared, though.”

“That might just have to be enough.”

While the others filled him in on the events he had missed, Linton became aware of a strange sensation. His veins bloomed with warmth. Each breath was easier than the last. There was still pain, but it didn’t bother him. If anything, it felt… good.

It allowed him to sit straighter, breathe normally, and speak with ease. After a little while, he almost forgot about his ailment.

“So, what’s the plan, boss?” Frost asked. “Shit’s about to hit the fan.”

“It’s not an ideal scenario,” Linton said with a sigh, “but we might be able to salvage it. Firstly, I’ll have to inform Tess of what’s about to happen. Secondly, we need a plan for how to breach the Arcanex. If Couldess attempts to leave the city, we need to have backups.”

“I have the Crown in my possession,” Aeva said. “I had hoped it would be of some help, but it does nothing.”

“That’s excellent news. I’m sure you’ll pick it up as we go. Gjurin’s probably just playing hard to get.”

“Let us hope.”

“Indeed. Thirdly, I will need to meet with our favorite sisters alone. Try and talk some sense into them.”

“You’re still sick,” Cat said. “You can’t go around doing all this stuff.”

“What are you talking about? I’m doing great!” Linton said, eyes watering from holding back a cough.

“Yeah, right. Let me at least talk to Tess for you.”

Linton waved her away. “Sure, if you’d like. I’ll set you up with a glamor before you go.”

His mind was already bursting with the variables of the battle to come.

***

Aeva knelt before the statue of Gjurin, the Crown placed on the floor in front of her.

“I need your guidance,” she whispered. “I tried to do what you asked. To accept the humans. I do not know where I failed.”

She waited several minutes for a response. Anything to indicate his presence. There was nothing. She watched the statue intently, but it remained perfectly motionless.

“Please,” she continued. “I have the object of my search, but I need revenge for the crimes committed against my blood. Show me how, Lord.”

Moments passed. Aeva hung her head in dejection.

A series of sharp cracks made her jerk up. The statue came to life, rising from its throne. It picked up the Crown with the tip of its sword, dangling it over Aeva’s head.

“Find your balance, champion,” Gjurin spoke. “Prove yourself worthy of more. To be my Chosen. The Crown is not a weapon. It is a cane for the weary. Water for the parched. A shield for the innocent. Never a tool for revenge. Its secrets will forever be locked away from those who lack understanding of what it means to rule.”

With that, the statue tilted its sword to let the Crown fall unceremoniously to the ground and settled back onto its throne. Aeva called out to her god, full of questions, but the statue returned to its lifeless state, and Gjurin answered her no more.

“Cryptic as always,” Aeva muttered.

Gjurin seemed to love throwing on restrictions and stipulations when it suited him. Did he really expect her not to avenge her people?

“Thought I’d find you here,” Linton said, causing her to turn around. “You two chatting up a storm?”

He walked into the room with a carefree swagger, no hint of the fever that had kept him bedridden just a few hours ago.

“Not precisely,” Aeva said. She rose to her feet. “But I believe I am getting somewhere, at least.”

“Here’s hoping you get that thing working by tomorrow.” He came closer and lowered his tone. “Just finished talking to our two resident goddesses. Got some information on their plan of attack. We should meet up back at the house to discuss strategy.”

Linton made to leave, but Aeva stopped him by taking hold of his arm.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You were… quite ill.”

Linton grinned. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m great, actually. There is something, though…” He seemed suddenly hesitant, frowning at the floor. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You may.”

“Okay, let me present you with a bit of a thought experiment. Let’s say there are five people trapped in a burning building, and your best friend is trapped in the building next to it, also on fire. You can only save the occupants of one building in time—the others will perish. Which do you choose?”

Aeva contemplated for a moment, rubbing the base of one of her horns. “Easy. I would save everyone. All six.”

“No, listen, it doesn’t work that way. You can only pick one. Five strangers or one friend.”

“No, you listen,” Aeva said, putting a firm hand on Linton’s shoulder. “Something I have learned from my time spent in this land is that even if a task seems impossible, even if you have no chance to win, you must try. You have shown me that the impossible can sometimes become attainable. So, if presented with this dilemma, I would save everyone.”

Linton hesitated. “I see.”

“I hope that helps,” Aeva said.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

They started walking, leaving the temple in silence.

“It is you,” she said, looking away to hide her blush.

“What?” Linton asked.

“My best friend. You are it.”

“Uh…”

“It is not a high bar to cross,” Aeva admitted. “True friends are difficult to come by in Anderland when you are a half-blood. But you…” She glanced over at Linton and managed a smile. “You have been kind to me. I will always remember that”

Linton grinned back at her. “Thanks. Hopefully, I won’t let you down in that regard.”

“You still have an attitude you should work on.”

He gave a wheezy laugh. “Noted.”

***

Tess left through the glass doors of the skyscraper, a cup of coffee in hand and a folder pinned under her arm.

Her two constant shadows followed her closely. Ironhearts. They were creepy, staring right through her with those cold eyes. They said nothing unless she questioned them directly.

They had been sent by her father to protect her in case of an attack by the Bluebirds. He wouldn’t budge on the matter, so she let them follow her around and ignored them whenever possible.

It was a busy day in the Gold Quarter. Rumblers zipped along multi-lane roads, and the sidewalks were packed with pedestrians, a large portion of them white-collar workers heading to or from some high-rise or other. People gave Tess and her combat constructs a wide berth.

Having set herself a light work schedule as of late, she had already finished her appointments for the day, which left her ample time to return home and catch up on some paperwork. She was too anxious to get much done, dark times looming overhead.

Tess could see it in the passersby, as well. Friends chatted amicably, strangers traded pleasantries, passing lawkeepers gave directions to those who were lost, but there was a subtle difference behind their eyes. A slight tension. A creeping dread.

The city had seen the trouble the Concord was in, and they knew the conflict would soon be coming to a head. The air was electric, like the moments before a storm.

“Spare some change?” asked an aged woman sitting against a building on a dirty blanket. She rattled a beat-up tin cup in Tess’s direction.

The Ironhearts rounded on the woman, ready to act on any slightest sign of aggression. The old woman recoiled in fear, and Tess steered them brusquely aside.

Tess went down on one knee in front of the woman and offered her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about that, ma’am. Here, for your trouble.” She took out her focus and dropped a few hecto-glint cubes into the cup.

“Oh, thank you kindly, dear thing,” the old woman said with a smile that wrinkled up her whole face.

Tess made to stand, but the woman took hold of Tess by her hand, pulling her in close. She whispered in her ear: “The attack happens tomorrow. Be ready. Linton sends his best.”

With that, the woman winked and slipped a long knife into Tess’s bag.

One of the constructs hauled Tess away from the old woman, while the other put a gun in the beggar’s face and warned her in no kind words that another such transgression would cost her life. The woman screamed and pleaded, and eventually, the construct let her be.

Tess let the Ironhearts take her away, but glanced back at the old woman as she got off her rug. She no longer seemed terribly shaken by the event, whistling to herself while she counted up her glints.

Tess had a growing lump in her stomach.

Soon, her father would be deposed from his position and incarcerated for his crimes.

She should have been happy about that. She had cause for it.

And yet, she felt only sorrow and guilt.