Earthbound, p.23
Earthbound, page 23
Emilia had been his warmth. She was her own fire, and together they had burned brightly. Or so he thought. And now? What was he to think? Moments after he’d been taken, she’d swept from this place, taking all the warmth with her.
A small, logical part of his mind could begrudgingly acknowledge Maven’s argument that it wasn’t betrayal. Maybe it was all grief and good intentions, but such thoughts felt like a desperate, foolish sort of hope. He sagged and leaned back against the counter top, the air suddenly thin as he fought to pull in a breath.
Artificial light glinted off a row of glasses neatly perched on their shelf in contrast to the deep shadows of the room. He and Tehran had shared a drink that morning, toasting Emilia. Here’s to the forces that bind us—
—and make us their own, Tehran had answered.
The earlier heat reignited. Tehran understood the power of vows and how an oath would supernaturally work on a person. Did Emilia? Would she know she would be drawn to Tehran? His stomach churned at the thought. Would she now look at Tehran like she had once looked at him?
A flush of heat raced through his arms and he reached for a glass, hurling it across the room. It hit the stone mantle and shattered. The sharp notes echoed the cry of his own heart. He grabbed another, letting power rush through his limbs and cloud over the pain. Shards of glass littered the floor and he relished in the clean feeling of anger. He sailed another cup across the room.
Too soon, the shelf cleared and the floor glinted, grief again crowding close. Knox shrank back from the powerless feeling and let the anger burn. I sacrificed everything for nothing.
He let out a feral roar and flipped the table, chairs skittered back and toppled. Even as a corner of his mind protested for control, he snatched a chair and smashed it into the floor. Splinters of wood scattered, leaving him with a blunt, rounded leg in his hand. It was a poor substitute for the club he had left with Loghin, but it would do.
He snorted at the thought as he swept his makeshift club through a side table, sending a lamp to join the broken glass in the living room. He shouldn’t need a weapon here—this was his home. He moved through the room like a storm, giving himself over to the inferno roiling within. The scattered pieces of the living space did nothing to numb the pain.
He moved into the bedroom with a vengeful fury, spilling shelves and dismantling the space he and Emilia had shared. As if his mind knew its limits, he could not consider the full implications of Emilia and Tehran binding themselves together. If he did, upon this ground he would shatter. Instead, he growled in frustration, flinging the mattress into the wall with a back handed motion and stalked back into the living room.
One door remained.
He kicked it with such force the door tore from its hinges, sending wooden shrapnel flying into the cribbed bed against the far wall. His breath came in heavy gulps as he stared at the shattered wood and disturbed room, and the fire within him sputtered out. This room was meant for them. His lost child. Shame flooded through him.
This is ever my oath before the Sky, to intercede, to protect, to preserve, to fight—for his people. His strength was meant to protect, not destroy.
He swallowed and took a shaky breath as he lifted a section of door off of the small bed. He let it fall to the floor as his vision blurred with unspilled tears and rested his hand on the neatly tucked blanket. His child was meant to lay here, and instead, broken pieces of their home filled their space. Because of him.
He never let himself believe Emilia had been lost along with their child. It was a wound he’d been unwilling to bear. But this loss, one where she had bound herself to another man, proved more devastating.
He stared at the torn-up space. If I become this—a force of destruction—he wouldn’t survive such a self-inflicted wound to his soul. To do so would be to prove himself unworthy of his role as Overseer or his hope of being a father. If all else was torn from him, he could not betray himself in this way.
He dropped his head to the rail and let silent tears come. For his child he would never meet. For Emilia. For himself. A ravenous void raked through him, but the tears, unlike the anger that burned away both sorrow and reason, instead doused the flames, leaving him a burnt-out shell.
He slumped to the floor and pressed his hand through the rails of the crib to clutch the fabric within. All else fell away but the feel of the cotton under his fingertips, and he let himself unravel in great heaving sobs.
◆◆◆
A small hand rested on his shoulder, and he started. Kipp stood behind him with a concerned look. As if waking from a dark dream, Knox pulled in a clearing breath, rubbing a hand across his forehead, trying to marshal his thoughts. When had she come in?
Kipp reached a hand to his cheek, her round palm warm against his skin, and with solemnity one of her age should not possess, held his gaze. She’s reassuring me? He wiped at a stray tear and gave her a tight smile. She dropped her hand and leaned into his side.
He scooped the girl into his arms as he stood. He would not forget his promise again.
“Kipp,” Loghin called from the other room, more lights flickering on and illuminating the destruction. “Stay close. I don’t know—” His voice cut off as he caught sight of the two of them. He stepped into the doorway, casting a sideways glance at a piece of wood still hanging from one hinge. “Maven mentioned you might be here.” He let the words trail off, clearly at a loss of what else to say. “We waited a while but were worried.”
“I’m okay,” he said, his voice still gravelly.
Loghin eyed him warily.
“I promise, I’ll be alright.”
Loghin cleared the door to let them pass and made a show of looking around the destroyed living room. “This would be evidence to the contrary, I’d wager.”
Knox took in the damage. The only chair that remained upright was the rocking chair Gorrde had made. Fresh tears threatened at the sight. “I have no doubt you’d get good odds on that bet.”
The choice still remained. He could go chasing after Emilia and Tehran, or he could trust, as Maven had said, they were each doing the best they could. And my best? His best needed to be better. If Emilia and Tehran were trying to bring help back to Rikken, the least he could do was ensure it was still here when they returned. He glanced at Kipp. He could protect those under his care and start putting their needs before his own. He and Emilia would have to sort out the rest of this mess after Rikken was looked after.
Knox picked his way back to the front door and met Loghin’s eye. “I had some thinking to do, but for what it’s worth, I made a decision.”
Loghin grunted. “I’d say that’s worth a fair amount. What did you decide? Are you staying?” He paused, looking suddenly awkward.
“You know?” Knox asked.
Loghin shuffled and kept his eyes on the floor. “I heard. I’m sorry.”
Knox swallowed back the sour feelings. “One crisis at a time I suppose.”
“Are you leaving?”
“No, we’ve got to get the cluster prepared for what’s coming. Emilia will have to find her own way home.”
First Fight
Knox
The next morning found Kipp sitting with Knox at the broken table, suspiciously eyeing Maven. The older couple had taken the arrival of the young child with seamless grace.
“Would you like something to drink, little one?” Maven crouched level with the girl. Kipp turned her face into Knox’s chest.
Knox answered for her. “I bet she’d love some milk. What do you say?” He nudged the girl’s cheek. Kipp tipped her small round face up to his and gave a slight nod.
Maven had a thick-rimmed glass full of milk before her a moment later. Kipp eagerly reached out and pulled the cup to her lips.
“Poor thing, she looks half-starved Have you not been feeding her?”
Knox grimaced. “We’ve been trying, but from what we could gather, she was held with her father for quite some time before I got to them.”
Gorrde, who had sat quietly through Knox relating his time in Beryl and finding Kipp, growled. “They deprived a child? Who could justify such a thing?”
Knox hazarded a glance down at Kipp, who seemed to be ignoring their conversation, intent on emptying her cup.
“The Commander I ran into was not one for remorse. Their army is going to march, and it is going to take everything we have to hold them at bay.”
Gorrde’s normally warm and open features darkened. “We will protect ours.”
“Yes, we will,” Maven agreed. “And we will need every bit of strength we can get to do so.” She glanced meaningfully down at Kipp and back to Knox.
Knox’s chest tightened catching her meaning, and he frowned. “She is not of my blood,” he defended.
“Are you willing to give up your strength again? The Order is not going to let you become an adoptive father any more than they would a biological one.”
“I’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Why wait?” Maven pressed. “We can find the child a good family here in the cluster who—”
“No.” The sharp word cut into the room and Kipp flinched against him. He lowered his voice. “She is my responsibility.”
Maven moved back to the stove, picking up her spoon to stir the soup. “You only just got your strength back. The cluster needs you—”
“They have me.” Knox’s jaw flexed as he cut her off. “I’ll do all that I can to protect Rikken, but I will not give her up, is that understood?”
She regarded him for a moment but then nodded. “Of course—it’s your choice. I only highlight what the Order will require. She will either have to be sworn in as an Acolyte with you as her Patrem, or you will be required to lay down your oaths again.”
With sudden clarity, he recognized something fundamental had shifted within himself. If he were asked when it had begun, he couldn’t have said, but the slow transformation manifested in the small child who sat contentedly on his lap.
The Order no longer held his primary loyalty. He’d laid down his oaths between them. Despite the return of his strength, loyalty to the Order did not press into him. He looked back to Maven with confidence.
“I will not willingly lay down my strength again. If the Sky herself takes it from me, so be it, but I will not bow to the Order on this.”
Maven raised an eyebrow in surprise but said nothing. Gorrde pushed away from the table. “Sounds perfectly sensible to me. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
He trundled up the staircase and Knox heard him rustling around in one of the upstairs bedrooms. By the confused expression on Maven’s face, it looked like she didn’t have any more of an idea than he as to what Gorrde was up to. He returned a few minutes later with a small, grey stuffed animal hanging loosely in his hand. Kipp lifted her head and watched Gorrde’s approach with interest.
He held out the toy rabbit towards Kipp but looked at Knox. “If she is yours, she is ours.” His eyes flipped back to Kipp whose hands reached out for the animal. “She’s been well-loved, but if you want it, it’s yours, sweetheart.”
A small smile pulled at Kipp’s lips, and she squished the rabbit to her chest. Gorrde’s large hand gripped Knox’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “I mean it. We will never expect you to give up anything else in the name of the Order. I don’t care what anyone says.”
Maven’s face relaxed into a full smile, her earlier uncertainty gone, and she moved to Gorrde’s side with a nod. He wrapped a thick arm around her waist, pulling her close.
Knox’s throat went thick with emotion, and all he could manage was a small nod.
“Right,” Gorrde said, clearing the air with his booming baritone. “What do I need to start fabricating? Weapons?”
Knox rubbed a jaw and chuckled, thankful for the shift. “My guess is the main force will bypass the outlying clusters. The Commander seemed intent on challenging the Order directly, which means she’ll make for the Capital. What we need to be prepared for is the beasts.” He thought for a moment and added, “Although, weapons are not a bad idea. Raiding parties may follow.”
Worry lines crumpled Gorrde’s features. “How many creatures do they have?”
“We saw a pod of deccam on the road, and of course the brecka, but the residents of Beryl saw many more. The Tumultians are pushing the creatures inland from the Tumult itself.”
“How is such a thing even possible?”
“Nearest we could guess its tech on their hovercraft; it emits some sort of pulse into the ground to drive the creatures before them. Emilia would probably have an idea. She may even be able to reverse-engineer it.”
Maven’s face lit. “She was drawing plans for something similar before she left. I don’t know if she finished them.”
The plans she started that morning. His Emilia would have continued to search for a solution. With a pang of sadness, he had to acknowledge what pushed Emilia from Rikken. She had gone in search of a different solution. If only she knew how futile her battle in the Capital was and how pressing the battle here would be. Could I have gotten here in time to stop her?
Even as he thought it, Kipp shifted on him and let out a small sigh of contentment as she leaned back and examined her new toy. His hand brushed her curls and the stab of regret eased. They each were on their own path. “Do you have the schematics? Maybe we can piece together what she started.”
Maven was ahead of him, moving to the large desk in the corner of the living room and rustling through papers. “She was thinking of creating some sort of perimeter fence. I think she was worried it wouldn’t be enough against the large beast you faced though.”
“Our only true defence against that creature is the roots of the mountain itself, but the others may be deterred by something like that.”
“It would be a hard sell to get people to retreat into the mountains with winter on its way. If we can create a space here safe from the beasts, it could give us time to prepare if we need to take further steps,” Maven said.
Gorrde pulled the schematic closer. “I actually already started with these. I have a limited fence already around the property but they drain a considerable amount of power. I don’t know how you’d be able to produce the energy needed to protect a much larger space.”
“The engineers in Beryl were stumped by the same thing. Give us as much space as you can, and the cluster will have to make do,” Knox said.
He looked down at Kipp who was absently rubbing one of the rabbit’s soft ears against her chin. “I need to go and see Daedan. He may have some insight on the Capital and a way to get in touch with Tehran. They need to know what’s coming.”
“Kipp, would you like to stay here with Gorrde and me?” Maven asked. “I think I have some quot fruit we could finish up.”
Kipp shook her head and frowned, looking up at Knox.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “You are safe here, and I will be back before long.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek.
“You could come help me in the shop,” Gorrde offered.
Her eyes brightened and she looked to Knox. He smiled and nodded and she hopped down.
A low chuckle rumbled from Gorrde’s chest. “The shop always wins them over.”
◆◆◆
“Any luck with communications?” Knox asked. With Rook being compromised, messages to the Capital were out, but Daedan had hoped communication with nearby clusters could be re-established.
The large man looked up from behind a stack of metal boxes, disembowelled wires cascading around him. “Nothing yet.” Daedan puffed his cheeks, making his round face even rounder. “Someone is jamming our cluster. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”
“Can that be done?”
“It can, but it’s limited in range. Whoever is doing this is close.”
A shiver of knowing spilled over Knox and he froze. “The Tumultians are here.”
Daedan’s jowled face blanched. “I thought you said the raiders were days away.”
“I was wrong—they’ve been here for weeks.” Knox spun and ran from Rikken’s communication room and into the concourse of the council hall. Daedan scrambled after him.
A tremor coursed through the building and the two men slid to a stop.
“Not now,” Knox breathed. “We need more time.”
Another rumble shook the ground and shouts and screams sounded through the building.
“Go tell the Council. It’s not only the beasts. The Tumultians are here. They need to get the people to higher ground or at least behind Gorrde’s fence.”
Daedan’s eyes widened but he bobbed his head in understanding. “Where are you going?”
“To intercept the raiders.” Knox sprinted from the building as the ground shook again. People ran for stilted walkways and the supposed safety of their homes. If he was right, it wouldn’t be enough. He pushed skyward with a jump.
Landing on a nearby rooftop, his boots slipped and he scrambled up the cedar shakes to look past the cluster to the lower field. His heart stuttered at the sight. The ground in the field swirled and foamed. Depths. The cascading and rolling earth could only mean another brecka.
His stomach twisted in memory as the beast broke free of the churning dirt and crested. Its black body glinted in the afternoon light as its great triangle head tipped to the sky. This one was smaller than the one that had taken Loghin and him, a building-sized behemoth rather than the moving mountain they’d faced before.
Has it only been a couple of weeks? It felt like a lifetime since he’d first witnessed the terrible creatures. A shiver tingled down his spine and in answer, fresh power coursed through his veins, flushing the sense of dread. He almost believed the lie of the adrenaline, whispering of his invincibility. But he knew better—before this creature, none of it mattered.
