Earthbound, p.31
Earthbound, page 31
The frenzied bluster which had possessed him moments earlier vanished, and he stood deflated. “Of course.”
Venier moved to his side and put a hand on his arm. He froze at her touch but seemed to force himself to relax. Emilia frowned at the interaction. What’s going on?
“It’s only fair that she be able to help free her home from these creatures.” She turned to Emilia. “I am sorry for the oversight. I sometimes forget that even those without vows can have immovable wills. I am glad you came to us.”
Emilia didn’t respond, instead watching Tehran with a critical eye.
Venier turned back to him. He towered over both of them, but Venier’s fine frame and stooped posture highlighted the contrast even more. Yet for all his size, it was Tehran who looked fragile. Something is wrong. And Emilia couldn’t shake the feeling she’d made it worse.
Tehran bowed. “I will finish overseeing the remaining preparations.” Without meeting Emilia’s eye, he turned and walked off towards a group of Overseers gathered in an alcove of the entryway.
“Tehran—” Emilia called. His step hitched, but he didn’t turn.
Venier clicked her tongue. “That poor man.”
Emilia stiffened, defensive. “He’s trying his best.”
Venier gave her a frank look. “I know dear. Which is why I feel for him. He is clearly torn; I’m surprised he hasn’t fractured yet.”
“Fractured?” Emilia’s stomach flipped within her at the word.
Venier took Emilia by the elbow and led her across a grand hall towards a sitting room. The quiet space emanated elegance. A plush bench seat with embroidered pillows and two regal looking chairs sat before a crackling hearth. Venier gestured to one of the seats and Emilia let herself sink back into the rich fabric. The low fire radiated a gentle heat, but sweat quickly beaded on her brow, and instead of being comforted, she felt trapped.
“Have you heard of the term ‘oathtorn’?” Venier asked.
Solace had spoken of it in his conversation with Tehran, and it was noted in the Book of Oaths, but nothing specific came to mind with the term. She shook her head.
The Elder’s thin brows pressed together, her eyes serious. “It’s a term we use when an Overseer has vows in conflict. At its heart, it is the very reason the Order is so rigid in how they manage the oaths in the first place. Seemingly innocent, well-intentioned vows can become entangled with others to the point they begin to wear on the Overseer who has spoken them.”
“And this ‘wearing’ is dangerous?” Emilia guessed, seeing where this was leading.
“Very.” Venier said. The older woman knit her hands together and watched the flames move within the hearth.
“And you think Tehran is bound in such a way?”
Venier gave her a gentle smile, but her eyes didn’t lift. “Darling, you told me of his vow yourself. It was not the standard bonding vow. He pledged far more to you than he should have.”
Emilia swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. “And I put him in this conflict?”
Venier clucked her tongue. “No, dear. He put himself in this position. For you, yes. But you are not responsible. Once again, he is a good man, running into the immutable law of oaths.”
“But everything has been fine. We were finding our way forward. Then this afternoon…” She trailed off, remembering the content of their conversation at the table. She’d asked for more transparency. I told him of the book. “I was honest with him about my feelings about the Order. He got defensive.”
Venier raised a delicate brow. “Did you tell him the specifics of our conversation?”
“Only that I felt you wanted to help the Overseers. To help us.”
The Elder pressed her lips tight for a moment, gaze drifting to where Tehran and the others stood. “Did he say anything?”
Emilia replayed the heated conversation in her mind. His seeming inability to voice what he was really thinking, and concern etched in his gaze. I never should have told him about the book. Her selfish need to have him all to herself had instead forced him away. “He wants to protect me. Something I said has put his oaths at odds, hasn’t it?”
“That would be my guess.”
“And he wants me to stay behind so he doesn’t risk breaking either vow.” Relief flooded through her. He wasn’t pushing her away because he didn’t want her, but because he wanted to protect her. She needed to prove to him she didn’t have to be a hindrance. A liability. That she could be the support he needed. Emilia sat a little straighter, knowing what needed to be done. How to fix things between them.
Venier looked less optimistic. “Possibly, dearest. You need to understand he’s in a very precarious position. If he’s lucky, he will be able to navigate both oaths. But if he protects his oath to you over his oaths as an Overseer, his strength will be forfeit.”
“It was a misunderstanding. I will clear it up,” Emilia said, sounding far more confident than she felt.
“I hope you’re right, for his sake.” Venier said. “I’d hate for the Order to lose one such as him. Maybe you should stay behind as he suggests.”
Emilia’s stomach plummeted. “Elder. This afternoon I spoke to him out of my distress. If he feels he must protect the Order, then I will support him. After everything he’s done for me, I will not let my personal feelings compromise him further.”
“You’ll protect the Order that betrayed Knox?” Elder Venier asked.
Bile climbed up her throat at the thought. For now, to protect Tehran. “I’ll do what I must, Elder.”
The older woman nodded slowly, face clearing. “I believe you will.”
Time Unending
Knox
Knox awoke to glaring lights and a faint vibration humming through the floor beneath him. A transport? There was no way to tell. All he knew lay between the four walls of this cramped room.
Dull metal sheeting lined every surface, floor and ceiling included. He assumed there was a door, but he couldn’t pick out a seam in the uniform surface. The same manacles they’d bound him with in Rikken pinched his wrists before him, a length of chain tethering him to a ring in the middle of the room.
Artificial lights glared down without reprieve. Even when he squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, light still leaked through red eyelids. It almost made him miss the complete darkness of the earthbound.
He’d woken before, but he could remember little else. They had already placed him in this room. It could have been hours since his stand-off with the Commander, or days. Perpetual fog clouded his mind, every thought slow and sluggish.
He searched for the power burning at his core and called it forward. The manacles instantly reacted and sent a jolt of electricity through his body. The air pushed from his lungs in a whoosh, and he cursed. Right. Can’t do that. That’s what had sent him back into the black the first time.
What if—He tried again, this time slowly. Touching the barest thread of power, he coaxed it forward, whispering for it to clear his mind. It sputtered fitfully, resisting. He let go, breathing heavily.
How are they doing this? Even in the days void of power he’d never felt so weak, so cut off from the Sky.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears and a tremor ran through his body. Again.
He did his best to marshal his lazy thoughts and focus. This time the power responded with a slow warmth spreading from his chest and radiating down through his limbs. The fog lifted, and the manacles remained quiet.
Rather than the raging inferno of strength, healing gently washed through his body, and he sagged against the floor in relief. His face pressed against the cool metal as if it were a luxurious pillow.
“Good to see you have decided to join us, Overseer,” the Commander’s voice crackled through a speaker inset into the ceiling.
He groaned and rolled to his back, chain clattering across the metal floor after him.
“It would be a lot easier if you didn’t use me as a conductor. I gave you an oath.”
She barked a laugh and the speaker squealed in protest. “You promised to kill me. This feels prudent, now you are no longer bound by the night.” Her thick accent punctuated each word.
How much time has passed? He promised Kipp he’d return. Loghin and those fleeing from Rikken would need help and protection. He pushed himself up and looked around the narrow room. A lens in the corner caught his eye. He stared at it. “What do you want?”
“The truth. About you. About the Order. About their plans.”
He snorted and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Impossible.”
Her voice turned to honey. “You are not the first Overseer we have questioned. You will cooperate.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“We’ll see.”
Sparks crackled across the wall panels in small blue arcs like fire crawling along fresh timber. The manacles were bad enough. Memories of the chair used in Beryl sent a wash of nausea through him. Yet, he and Kipp’s father proved the flaw in their design. This is their answer. The room’s design served one purpose. It wasn’t to hold him; it was to break him.
“Anything you’d like to say before we start?”
Knox glared at the lens.
“Fair enough.”
The room hummed to life and spikes of electricity sliced through the space pinning him to the floor. His jaw clenched, muscles contracting at the command of the current and his body writhing of its own accord. The voltage buzzed in his mind, rattling his teeth. Searing heat carved pathways through him as if eager to melt flesh from his bones.
The thread of power he’d drawn on became a lifeline and he clung to it with every ounce of will he possessed. Under the barrage, it responded, pushing back and healing enough to keep him breathing and alive. Pain though, as always, had its way.
A new spike of electricity shot through him in excruciating intensity and he loosed a feral scream, as once again, time lost all meaning.
Words
Tehran
From the moment he saw Emilia hiding in the hedge, Tehran knew it was only a matter of time. He would fracture. He couldn’t separate his vow to Emilia and the directive from Dareous, not with Venier standing between them.
Yet days later, here he was, still himself. Albeit a swirling mess of conflicting purpose, but still in his right mind. He worked hard to keep his thoughts aligned and slowly found the delicate balance he needed to keep each oath in harmony with the next.
They were a day out of Rook and the trip had been uneventful, despite the feverish pace they’d set. Tonight, Venier called for a halt rather than alternating shifts keeping them driving through the night. They were entering the Reaches and once out of these rocky foothills, the land couldn’t be trusted.
Tehran sat drinking a cup of tea before one of the small cook fires and watched as Elder Venier picked her way through the camp, looking as out of place as glass in a garden. Her bright blue setka shone like a beacon amongst the neutral tents, gear, and dark metal of the linked caravan cars.
Could she really be stirring the unrest in the Capital? He’d seen nothing but compassion from the woman. While temperate next to Elevated Dareous’ attitudes, it hardly made her a traitor. Solace had obviously trusted her enough to witness Emilia’s testimony, and the Elder had even covered for the fact they had tried to leave Dareous out of that particular meeting.
A familiar flip twisted in his stomach. Why can’t I let this go? Everything pointed to the fact he should trust her. Dareous himself approved her request to lead the team to the Reaches. Lead the team. Elders did not lead field teams, even past Overseers such as Venier. Especially ones past their prime and with nothing to gain from the move. Elders only carried the strength and resilience of an Acolyte, nothing that could be relied upon in an earnest fight. He took a long sip of his tea.
His suspicion leaned heavily on a single secondhand conversation he’d heard from Emilia. It was possible he had misinterpreted Venier’s empathy as rebellion. Even more possible that Emilia’s own feelings towards the Order coloured her report, but it felt dangerous to dismiss it as a coincidence.
Whatever Venier had said to Emilia the night they left the Capital had shifted something between the two of them. Emilia stopped pressing for answers. She didn’t speak of his vows, or anything Order-related beyond returning to Rikken. Instead, she kept things between them light or distracted him in other ways. A flush of heat crawled up his neck at the thought. Her distractions had been thorough.
The only explanation he could think of was that Venier warned Emilia about the risks of Tehran being oathtorn. To what end? To protect me? Or to set me up? There was no clear motivation either way, and Tehran felt as if he were running blind, swinging at phantom enemies.
“Overseer,” Venier greeted as she neared.
He stood and held his fists over sternum and belly as he bowed his head in respect. “Elder.”
She waved him off. “Enough of that. We are in the field; my title is more than enough deference for me.”
“Of course, Elder.”
She sat on a crate before the fire, and he followed suit on his own stumped log.
“Our first night within the Reaches. You must be eager to be home.”
He looked past the edge of camp and into the gathering dark. “I am. It’s been far too long.”
Tomorrow, the foothills would give way to flat valley bottoms, and they would be that much closer to Rikken.
“We will have to start making camp in the trees and sleep in the caravan cars. Open ground will be dangerous.”
“Yes, of course.” She glanced around warily at their camp.
“We are still in the rock of the foothills, Elder. We are safe enough tonight.”
She gave him a tight smile. “Thank you. It has been ages since I have left the Capital, and I see it has done me little good to stay in stone all these years. One forgets the vulnerability of where Earth and Sky meet.”
Silence fell between them, and he glanced across to where Emilia sat with another engineer, poring over schematics. Emilia must have felt his eyes on her because she glanced up, and her mouth pulled into a half-smile before returning to her work. Her hair fell forward and covered her face from full view as she studied the drawings. Her effortless beauty struck him afresh.
“I’m not sure if Emilia passed on my congratulations,” Venier said, catching his line of sight. “It is a consolation to know you have each other.”
Tehran sat back and cleared his throat. “I’m not sure others in the Order would share your goodwill.”
Venier let out a light laugh. “I’m afraid you may be right. Although, I think that reflects more on them than on you and Emilia.”
Leave an opening. “It may be the vows, but I cannot bring myself to regret it,” he said, smiling as he watched Emilia point emphatically at the drawings before she sketched out a solution for the other engineer to see.
“She’s much like her mother,” Venier said.
Tehran cast a sidelong glance at the Elder, unsure if she was speaking to him or to herself. That wasn’t the direction he expected the conversation to go.
“Did you know I knew her mother?” Venier asked.
“Emilia said you were Overseers together.”
Venier smiled and shifted to face him more fully. “She and I were much as you and Knox were. Raised together. Inseparable.”
Tehran had allowed himself very little time to think of Knox. The memories of him alive somehow held a sharper spike than his loss. He pulled in a quick breath, trying to push back the inrush of past moments.
Venier reached over and patted his knee. “I’m sorry, dear. I should have known it would be too fresh. Those memories are painful now, but they will be a comfort in the future.”
“I hope so.”
She gave him a sad smile. “I didn’t lose Maven the same way you lost Knox, but it was no less final.” She looked up at the deepening dark of the night sky. “My pride tore us from each other with no path back—until now.”
He gave her a questioning look.
Venier sighed. “It was my own foolishness, valuing rank and dogma over the people who loved me. Just as Dareous did to Knox. And as much as Knox paid the ultimate price, it’s been you and Emilia who’ve borne the scars.”
Tehran’s heart quickened, the words twisting into him. Tying their situation with Venier’s near-mutinous sentiment pushed the boundaries of his mental balancing act. He coughed to clear the discomfort from his throat.
Venier glanced at him looking concerned. “Are you all right, dear?”
He nodded and pulled out a canteen, taking a quick swallow of water.
“I am hoping I can set things right,” Venier said.
He fought to keep his voice even. “How so?”
She gestured to the caravan around them. “By coming out here—finally. After all these years, I will see my friend and help her protect her home.”
The rising tension eased. He was wound so tight he was seeing enemies where there was only kindness. He took a clearing breath of his own. “I’m sure it will mean the world to Maven.”
Venier smiled. “I hope so.” She looked at him, earnest. “I’m sorry that opportunity was taken from you. The Order owes you much.”
He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes against the headache building.
“Owes me?”
She tilted her head and the smile she gave him held too much sadness. “The Order is meant to bolster and support, not be the very force you fear.”
“I do not fear the Order,” he defended.
The older woman waved the comment off. “Call it what you will. I understand why you extended yourself for Emilia, and I don’t blame you. You wanted to protect her from them. From him.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “You know of the oath?”
