"Until The Fall" - 8/48
Title: Until The Fall
Author: Rissy James
Characters: DG, Cain, Azkadellia, Jeb, Glitch, Raw, Tutor, the Queen, Ahamo, and some old & new OCs (updated 03.09.09)
Pairing: Established Cain/DG; established Jeb/Az
Rating: M
Summary: Sequel to " Of Light". After an annual of living in the O.Z., DG sets out to complete the task given to her by the Gale. Soon, she must learn that there is always more to everything than first meets the eye. (updated 03.18.09)
Chapter Eight
It was late when Jeb Cain finally arrived at the camp in the South. Pulling his battered and muddy truck to a stop, he stared at his final destination long and hard before he climbed out and slammed the door shut; he hurried toward the large set of connected tents that had been erected near a stand of trees, ignoring the smaller two-man tents scattered around it, and the men who came out of them to see who'd arrived. The armed guard standing at the entrance stood back to allow him passage inside.
The tent created one large room, lit dimly by several lanterns; a heavy metal table was set up in the very center. Surrounding the table were the four Guild Leaders of the O.Z., now generals since the reinsertion of the royal army. Over time in the last year, he'd met all four of the men on one occasion or another while guarding Azkadellia. However, the only one he'd worked under was Andrus, though Peter Andrus was Northern and both of Jeb's parents had been from the South. Andrus, to his credit, tried not to look annoyed to see that the young Cain had arrived late.
“Lieutenant Cain,” said General Marsh said in welcome, when he saw the young man had appeared to stand uncertainly just inside the entrance.
“I was sent for,” Jeb said, but said no more, as that was the end of the information he'd been given. He looked from one man to the next, until he'd made eye contact with all four. Only Andrus gave him a stiff nod of the head as any indication of previous interaction, which Jeb found surprising, because he knew Andrus wasn't too fond of him.
Andrus made a very formal, sweeping gesture over the map spread across the table. “We require your insight, Lieutenant.”
Jeb took a few tentative steps forward, his footfalls quiet and muffled by the dirt floor. “My insight?” he asked, stopping a few feet from the table and the men surrounding it.
“Your experience with the Resistance is invaluable to our cause at the moment, Cain,” another of the men, Williamson, spoke up.
Jeb smirked, finding this funny. “I only led the Resistance for a few months.”
It had been after a bloody encounter with the Longcoats, the then-leader, Roberts, slumped over the body of his dead son. Jeb, who had been with the boy when he'd fallen, who was barely more than a boy himself, stood far to the back of the tent, saying nothing, watching nothing but the father bending over the body of his son.
Thoughts of his own parents swirled in his head, memories of being told by a derisive Coat that his Resister father was dead. The body of his mother, laying amidst broken sticks and fallen leaves, dead and glassy-eyed. Only his teeth sunk into the end of his tongue had kept the tears at bay.
Hours later, after night had fallen, the broken Roberts had stumbled away from the cold body, had looked around the tent in which he stood, and his eyes had rested long on the ambush plans scattered on the scrubbed wooden tabletop.
“I'm finished,” Roberts had croaked, and he walked out of the tent. He held the flap open for Jeb, showing him the men and women that bustled around the camp; activity was subdued, quiet. They'd lost more than one that day; no one seemed to want to make too much noise, in fear of bringing more death down upon them. Roberts gave Jeb the chance to take a good, long look. “They're all yours. Lead them or leave them, but I'm done.”
The tent flap dropped then, and Roberts was gone. Jeb never saw him again.
He'd been out of the suit less than a week, and suddenly he was leading the Resistance that had landed him in it in the first place.
The generals watched silently as Jeb stared hard at the maps spread out across the table. Though they thought he studied them carefully, they could never know that the young Cain didn't see them at all, didn't see the lines and markings, the small red tack that was set in the southeastern most corner of the biggest map, pinning the entire thing to the table. Another, smaller, map rested on top of the first; this one had a large green expanse in the southeast circled in red.
“What do you know about the Black Forest, Lieutenant?” General Marsh asked, after the silence from Jeb Cain had stretched on too long.
“Next to nothing,” Jeb said with a shake of his head. “Its uninhabited. I heard once...” And then he trailed off. A smile ghosted across his lips, before being replaced with an apologetic look towards his superiors. “Sorry, gentlemen. Just remembering the stories my father used to tell me. As I said, I know nothing about the Black Forest. I've never been there.”
General Andrus spoke next, his voice slow, his Northern accent smoothly forming his words. “We've had reports of Longcoats being seen near the edges of the forest.”
Jeb looked up from the map, curious. “Reports from who?”
“Civilians,” Williamson said. “People too afraid or too stupid to enter the woods to find out anything more.”
Jeb smirked, looking down at the map, where even the images of the forest drawn on paper seemed dark and ominous. “Can you blame them?” he asked the men who watched them. Though a few chuckled, none of them outright answered him. “Have you sent in any scouts?”
“The Queen is requesting actions not be taken at the moment until more details can be gathered,” General Bluesire said from his seat, his first words since Jeb had walked into the conference. The people of the East were instinctively wary of strangers to the point of hostility, and Bluesire was no exception. He watched Jeb with a hard glare, suspicion seeping from every worn crease of his small face.
“We meet with the Queen tomorrow to try and persuade her otherwise,” Andrus finished explaining.
Jeb frowned, sudden insight dawning as to why the Queen was hesitant to make an order. Azkadellia was afraid to make her first militaristic decision. He was sure it was; she was afraid of what knowledge she'd obtained during the annuals of the Possession. This must have been what she'd been fretting over during the events surrounding her coronation, and why she'd been so closed off when he'd left her early that very morning after the ball.
Thinking of Azkadellia and her strange, distant behavior, however, wasn't going to get this meeting over with any faster, and he knew that. Pushing thoughts of her away, Jeb scanned the map, following the lines that led upwards into the far west, where the hidden barracks of the outlanders had been, buried deep in the ground. Though unmarked, he knew exactly where it had lain. Now gone, like it had never been.
“No activity from the outlanders?” Jeb asked.
Though the other generals took this as an offhand question, Andrus understood the reason for Jeb's interest in the activity to the West. “The borders to the west have been quiet,” he said.
Silence fell over the tent then, bearing down on his shoulders as he waited for someone to speak. When no one did, Jeb sighed heavily, and looked up hard at Andrus. “You still haven't quite explained why you had to drag me from the city to speak to me, if you're going to Central tomorrow to speak to the Queen.”
“Lieutenant, we're hoping to have you transferred from the Queen's guard detail,” General Marsh told him, without so much as blinking. Jeb's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he bit his tongue as he listened to what the generals were ordering of him. “We'd like you to remain in the south for the time being.”
“Until when?”
“If Her Majesty approves of our plan,” Andrus said, “we'd like you to lead the scouting mission into the forest. We have good reason to believe their base-camp is in deep, near the heart.” The general pointed to a place on the map. Jeb squinted to see the words printed, but they were too smudged to make out. “You and your men will infiltrate the camp and discover what information you can.”
Jeb shook his head slowly. The last time he'd seen a plan where so many things could go wrong, he was sending his best munitions man to the Tower to lay explosives to blow the generators. When he realized the generals were watching him, he shrugged his shoulders.
“On Her Majesty's orders,” was all he could manage to say.
Dismissed a few moments later, Jeb left the generals' tent to find some place to sleep. A day in camp tomorrow, and by suns-down he'd have his orders. If the Queen gave the generals permission to continue against the enemy, or if she told the generals to wait until they had more information... What happened to him the day after tomorrow was completely in Azkadellia's hands, and as much as that fact should reassure him, he had a feeling he wasn't getting back to Central City any time soon.
Wyatt Cain followed DG patiently a good twenty paces after she left Azkadellia's former chambers, but once she'd rounded the corner and was out of sight of her sister's guard detail, his hand closed about her upper-arm and he pulled her back against him to stop her full-throttle forward progress. She whirled around, eyes blazing and ready for an argument; he looked at her hard, to tell her he was in no mood for a fight and she was better off not to go looking for one.
“You gonna tell me why you're runnin' out of here so fast, Deeg?”
She opened her mouth to speak, only to promptly close it again. She looked away from him as she composed the thoughts that were surely bouncing like scattered marbles in her head. When she did speak, it was with a voice of wavering uncertainty. “Because, its time.” She stopped short after those words, and then grinned, an inward smile at herself. “You know, I never thought I'd hear myself say that,” she said with a small laugh, “but there you go. That's the reason. Its time to go.”
He frowned. “Right this very minute.”
“Right this very minute,” she said with a firm nod. “You like traveling at night, don't you?”
Sighing, he let go of her; his mind, even at that moment, was trying to gain control over the situation, working over everything that needed to be done before they left. It was near midnight. If she wanted to leave in the dead of night, the most he could do was to make sure things were set to right before they went.
“Go back to your room and get your things,” he said, commanded, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise at his tone. “I'll be down in a few minutes for you. Don't come lookin' for me if you get antsy, understand?”
Her lips parted, as if readying to argue with him, but after deep breath, DG seemed to come to the realization he wasn't contesting her decision to leave. Though she didn't know it, a small part of him agreed with her. Better to leave now, than to try and say goodbye in the morning. He watched her walk away from him, towards her suite, and when she was out of his sight, he doubled back the way they'd come.
Glitch sat serenely in a stiff backed chair in Azkadellia's half-emptied former sitting room; the advisor was undisturbed by Cain's sudden arrival, as if he'd been waiting for his friend to come back with further instruction. Glitch's smile was warm, easy, and it settled his nerves slightly, much to his surprise.
“Corporal Hass,” Cain said first, wanting to address his issues as quickly as possible.
Glitch nodded in understanding. “I will have him dispatched first thing in the morning.”
Cain raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “You read my mind,” he admitted.
Glitch's smile dissolved into a smirk, half there, entirely bemused. “Might as well give the poor guy one more night in his own bed before sending him off. You're sure that you're heading to Milltown?”
“Yeah,” Cain said with a small, grim nod. “Tell him to ask for Hank or Emily Denslow when he arrives. That's sure to be where he'll find us.”
There wasn't much else that needed saying, or required the attention of the royal advisor. Cain lingered a moment longer to give the closed bedroom door a wary glance; Glitch must have caught this gesture, because his next words were comforting. “Things will be fine on the home-front, Cain,” Glitch said, “you don't have to worry about things around here. Just go, keep DG out of trouble.”
Cain nodded, and shook the advisor's hand when it was offered. The men stood clasping hands a moment longer than necessary, before Glitch made a jerk of his head towards the door to the hallway. “We'll try to keep it quiet as long as possible,” Glitch interjected when Cain took a step back and had made a half-turn towards the door. “But someone is going to notice eventually that DG hasn't been seen in a while.”
Cain frowned. “Well, hopefully we'll be back by that time.”
Glitch grinned wide. “Yes, the sooner you leave, the sooner you get back. And the sooner we can start planning this ridiculously obscene royal wedding I hear is coming up.”
Giving Glitch one last, patronizing glare, Cain turned on his heel and walked out of the sitting room. The late hour kept the hallways empty, and he ran into no one as he crossed the level towards DG's suite; it seemed to him, however, that someone had given the order to clear the floor, because it seemed almost ghostly quiet, the sound of his footsteps echoing tellingly on the tiled floor.
The door to DG's quarters was wide open, and as he came closer, he could hear her shuffling around, but when he stepped properly into the room, he couldn't see her. “DG?” he called out softly, and there was a cessation of movement in the bedroom. After a seconds-long pause, the noise picked up again. He stood near the threshold, and waited for her to come out.
It only took her a few more moments, and she came out of the bedroom. She'd changed into a pair of jeans, from where she'd gotten them he could only guess, and a wool coat, buttons undone, the front hanging open. The canvas rucksack that he'd watched her fret over for the last few days was slung over her shoulder, and he was certain she'd hastily gone over the contents at least once more since he'd sent her to gather her things. Her sneakers were clutched in her hands.
“I'm almost ready,” she said quietly, apologetically. There was a definite falter in her voice that hadn't been there when she'd told him that they had to leave, not twenty minutes before. She sat down in a chair, letting the bag slide to the floor as she jammed her feet into her shoes. He watched her fumble for a moment with the laces, but soon she was standing and picking up her pack again, watching him expectantly.
From across the room, he could see her shaking. Only the slightest tremble, but enough to be a true presence. Her brave face barely concealed the fact that she looked ready to cry. Somewhere in the space between leaving him in the hallway and his reappearance, she'd lost her nerve to get this done and get it done quick.
“You'd best find somethin' to cover your hair,” he told her. “Someone's gonna notice you when we're leavin' the city.”
Her eyes seemed to brighten, her corners of her mouth quirking in the slightest hint of a smile. He watched, eyebrows slowly raising in silent question as she screwed her eyes shut. Seconds later there was a shift, though any other description past that was beyond his knowledge; all he knew was that he was staring at a blonde DG, her hair shorter and brushing her shoulders, her eyes a darker brown than her sister's. Her features remained the same, but at the same time had received some sort of touch from her magic, for she suddenly seemed bright and sunny, emotions weighted by nothing.
Finding his voice, he tried to stop himself from frowning at her. “Its a nice trick, Darlin',” he admitted. “Put a hat on anyway.”
Grumbling, she dropped her back near her feet and walked back into the bedroom, only to reappear a few minutes later with a familiar black cloche pulled down over her hair. The blonde locks still surrounding her face were distracting. She held her hands away from herself, waiting for his approval. Nodding, he reached for her, and without a look back at the room she was leaving behind, DG walked out past him, only pausing long enough to stoop and pick her bag up.
Leaving the palace turned out to be less of a challenge than he had thought it would be. As late as it was, there was very little activity about the palace; taking the stairs, they met no one, and when they broke out of the doors into the bitterly chill night, DG seemed to walk with less trepidation in her steps. The night was unseasonably cold, and a harsh wind swept through the streets.
They waited in the shadows until the two men patrolling the perimeter fence had left the vicinity of the guard shack, leaving only one lone uniformed guard for them to worry about. Tucking DG in underneath his arm, Cain walked straight out through the gates. The man sitting inside the small building stood and nodded his head as the ex-Tin Man passed through the gates. If he knew who Cain was smuggling out of the palace, he neither showed recognition nor moved to stop the pair. And as easily as that, they were free.
Keeping her hugged close against his side, he guided her through the streets of the city, to his apartment; only a quick stop to retrieve his belongings, and he'd take her through the gates of the city. If they met no trouble within the gates, or on the road, they would reach Milltown not long after the second sun came up. The cold night was going to present a problem for DG, he knew, but there wasn't anything to be done except for her to suffer through it. She'd get used to traveling again soon enough.
When the door of the apartment was closed and locked behind them, he left her in the kitchen to move straight into his bedroom. Pulling his things out of the closet, he began to ready himself. Shrugging off his jacket, he tossed it down on the bed and picked up his gun-belt. After tossing it on over his shoulder, he went through the motions of adjusting and buckling it.
The sound of her sneakered footsteps coming across the kitchen joined the sound of the belt buckle. In his peripheral vision, he saw her come to the doorway of his bedroom, to lag listlessly against it. Neither of them had bothered with the lights, but he could feel her eyes on his back as she watched him.
Finishing with the belt, he stooped to tie the leather straps that would secure the holster to his leg. But as he bent, her words cut through the air.
“I just need for you to tell me once that we can do this,” she whispered, and he could hardly tell if the words had been meant for him or if she were trying to reassure herself. Letting go of the ties, he stood again to watch her; she'd taken the hat off her head, and was slumping so lost and uncertain against the door-frame. While his mind had been completely absorbed with the thought of who he was going to have to wake up to get their horses from the stable outside the city, DG was still stuck back in the palace. The sight of her stopped him and his preparations; letting the holster and its ties swing, he crossed the room to go to her.
“Deeg,” he said slowly, unsure of what to tell her.
“Just once,” she muttered, a bit pathetically, “and then I'll be fine, I promise.”
Sighing, he reached out a hand to brush his fingers through her blonde hair; it felt silky and smooth beneath his fingers, and he had to remind himself that it was only an illusion, that it wasn't real. It was the oddest thing that had happened to him in a long time, but part of him had to admit, now that he was in DG's company full time, things would probably only get stranger from then on out. His lip seemed to twitch on its own at the thought.
“I don't know what I can tell you,” he said slowly, watching her carefully and making sure every word he said hit home. His hand still playing in her hair, he took his time with his answer. “There's no guarantee this is gonna be easy, or even possible. I don't like makin' promises, but what I do know is that I'm gonna be doin' my damndest to keep you safe while you're tryin' to figure it all out.”
She smiled gratefully up at him. Seeing her settle, feeling her relax under his fingertips, he moved back to the bed, left her in the doorway so he could finish readying to go. He'd bent again and was tying the straps of the holster to his thigh when she whispered meekly, “Thank you.”
Finished tightening the knot, he straightened his spine. “You don't have to thank me, DG.” That much was true, there was no reason for it. But, whether she knew it or not, when all of this was over and they were safe, she was sure as hell going to marry him. Then he'd focus on getting her out of the city for good. If this goose chase was what they had to do to get to that point, then this was the road they would travel.
If she had a response for him, she kept it to herself, and watched in silence as he sheathed his revolver and put his duster back on. His bag was already packed and waiting; he picked it up by the shoulder strap and walked out of the bedroom. He took DG's bag into his hand and escorted her out of the apartment.
They left the city on foot. With their collars turned up against the wind, together they walked along the length of the city wall, passed through the gate, before crossing the causeway that spanned the lake; the breeze that came up off the water knocked the air out of their lungs as they left the shelter of the city gates. His eyes went upwards as their feet carried them farther from the city; the sky was clear, the moons were rising higher as the minutes passed; they'd have more than enough light to travel by, though he wasn't sure how well the light would permeate the forest once they'd entered the safety of its cover.
Almost two hours after she'd burst out of Azkadellia's room to tell him it was time to leave, Cain was watching his princess mount her horse, as he tossed a few coins to a bleary-eyed stable-hand. Pulling up onto his own mare's back, he saw DG standing in her saddle, her eyes focused on something far away. Turning his head, he saw Central City silhouetted against the dark sky, glowing faintly in the distance; he wondered if she was only taking a long last glance, her attention caught by the reflection of the lights on the water, or if she were focused on something more intimate. It wasn't hard to make out the Central palace, the tallest beacon of the city; for the second time that night, he considered where her mind might still be caught.
“Gonna miss it?” he asked her, as he reined his horse into the direction he wanted. He was giving the animal an affectionate pat on the neck when DG finally spoke, as he feigned interest in something else.
“Not really,” she lied, as easily as she breathed. He considered her for a moment, as she dragged her eyes away from the city and brought them to his. “Can we go?”
Frowning at her, he nudged his horse with his heels and rode east, glad for how quickly DG followed.
After two hours, he was keeping an eye out for a place to break off the road and rest. Though their pace wasn't fast, DG hadn't spoken a single word, and kept sneaking glances at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention. Annoyed, he signaled for her to stop at the first branch in the road they met.
“What's the matter?” he asked her, the second he was off his horse. She stayed mounted, and yet somehow seemed to shrink away from him when he approached. Wyatt sighed, before reaching up to grab her around the waist. She didn't fight him, but he wasn't completely sure it was an accident when her feet landed on top of his.
He growled at her when she looked up at him sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, and he could hear her trying to work up a cheery voice to go with the smile she was able to flash so easily. “What's up, Tin Man? Why are we stopping?”
Without answering, he walked the horses a little farther into the trees before tethering them loosely to a tree. He watched his own hands as they made the knot, the unadorned fingers working quickly. Behind him, he could hear her walking slowly towards him, but he whirled around fast when he heard her stumble.
“Sorry,” she muttered again. She'd managed to land herself on her hands and knees. “I tripped on a loose brick.”
Despite the restraint he wanted, his sigh was aggravated as he stepped forward to help her to her feet, then stood back as she brushed off her clothes. When she straightened, he could tell she was a few straws short of breaking, that much was clearly evident on her face, glamor or not.
“So why did we stop?” she asked again.
Cain sighed, and looked around. The trees on either side of the narrow bit of road they were on were thick, and they stood somewhere in the span of transition where the paved bricks gave way to hard-packed dirt. It seemed to him as if some bricks were missing, and he could spot the one she'd tripped on, jutting up at an angle.
“I figured,” he said slowly, “now'd be a good time for you to start talkin'.”
From under the brim of her black hat, she glared up at him. “What if I don't want to start talking, Tin Man?”
“Then its gonna be a real quiet trip, Princess,” he said pointedly, meaning it, very seriously, as a threat.
She considered him for a moment, and he knew his words had struck a chord. “Azkadellia,” she said slowly, and though he thought she only meant to pause, he soon realized she had no intention of speaking past her sister's name.
He frowned. Glitch had told him about the Queen's loss, as quiet as a conspirator while they'd waited for DG, whispering low that no one in the court knew that Azkadellia had taken a lover. Cain, however, had thought that if one person knew who was taking extra pleasures with the Queen, it was his son - perhaps it was lucky the kid had been called out of the city by General Andrus, before the entire panel of Azkadellia's advisors was after him for the volatile information.
Clearing his throat, as if to prepare her for his intention to speak, he said “I know about your sister. And I know her... trouble tonight was the reason we're hightailin' it out of the city. You don't have to -”
Her eyes widened and he had no warning to brace for her outburst. She threw her arms up into the air and began to shout, her voice carrying loud and far. “I had to leave her, Cain! Again! She has no one, she's going to need me, but oh, no, its time to exit stage right instead.”
“It could've waited 'til morning, DG,” he told her calmly.
“No,” she said, and her voice was firm, but the threat of tears lingered somewhere near the back of her throat, making her sound vulnerable, and he felt his heart give a little. “I had a hard enough time tearing myself away from her tonight. I wanted to climb into the bed with her. If I'd waited until morning, leaving would've killed me.”
“So you're gonna give yourself hell over it instead?” he asked, and weakly, she shrugged her shoulders. “How long's that gonna last, Deeg?”
She looked offended. “Not long,” she said, and she frowned at the skeptical look he gave her.
“Its already been too long,” he said, nodding towards the horses that were tethered a little further down the road. “Just let it go and don't worry about Azkadellia. She'll be fine until you get back.”
“She has no one,” DG whispered quietly. “Just me, and I -”
“Don't start,” he said, glaring down hard at her and taking her by both arms. “Your sister is goin' through a rough time right now, but she's obviously got somebody, otherwise...” he said, but trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence. He sighed. “Let it be.”
She was silent, and he looked down at her face. She was staring up at him, with a calculating expression that told him she was about to say something mouthy. Sure enough... “You know, Cain,” she said, “they've got a saying on the Other Side. It goes, 'the pot calling the kettle black'.”
He raised an eyebrow in challenge, not about to take her bait. “You really wanna start that discussion right now?”
“Not really, but I thought I'd toss that in there for good measure.” She was smiling again, and it seemed that she'd at least listened to his words. Satisfied with that for now, he kissed her quickly on the lips, but found himself leaning down again for another, and then another. Her arms were sneaking about his shoulders, pulling herself up on tiptoe to get closer to him, and his arms were wrapping around her waist to mold into the curve of her back. The kiss was unrestrained and the clutch messy, such seemed to be her sudden desire to climb right inside of him.
Regretfully, after a few moments of quiet, hot kisses, he forced himself to disentangle her arms from around his neck, to hold her a safe distance away. “Soon,” he mumbled against her temple, nudging her hat upwards with his nose to get at her skin. The sleekness of her hair felt strange under his lips, not the naturally curly tangle he was used to pressing his face into.
Minutes later, they were mounting their horses again and rejoining the main road to Milltown. At dawn they stopped for a few moments again, as the stone markers on the side of the road telling them how many spans they'd traveled. Sheltered in the trees, the wind didn't bother them much, but DG's cheeks were pink and her fingers numb by the time the suns started to come up. As they neared their location, his mind seemed set on a hot mug of coffee; the effects of the full day prior and the long night on the road were beginning to dull his senses.
It was near full-light outside when the roofs of Milltown finally came into view, and Cain suppressed a smile when DG urged her horse on a little faster, racing towards her only connection to a life lived and over, now only a mere memory.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who is taking the time to comment - you know I love them! This story is going to be as long as "Of Light", by the looks of it. Love it? I thought you might. Comments feed my muse, lets keep her chubby on love, people!
Table Of Contents:
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10
11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20
21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30
31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40
41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48
Author: Rissy James
Characters: DG, Cain, Azkadellia, Jeb, Glitch, Raw, Tutor, the Queen, Ahamo, and some old & new OCs (updated 03.09.09)
Pairing: Established Cain/DG; established Jeb/Az
Rating: M
Summary: Sequel to " Of Light". After an annual of living in the O.Z., DG sets out to complete the task given to her by the Gale. Soon, she must learn that there is always more to everything than first meets the eye. (updated 03.18.09)
Chapter Eight
It was late when Jeb Cain finally arrived at the camp in the South. Pulling his battered and muddy truck to a stop, he stared at his final destination long and hard before he climbed out and slammed the door shut; he hurried toward the large set of connected tents that had been erected near a stand of trees, ignoring the smaller two-man tents scattered around it, and the men who came out of them to see who'd arrived. The armed guard standing at the entrance stood back to allow him passage inside.
The tent created one large room, lit dimly by several lanterns; a heavy metal table was set up in the very center. Surrounding the table were the four Guild Leaders of the O.Z., now generals since the reinsertion of the royal army. Over time in the last year, he'd met all four of the men on one occasion or another while guarding Azkadellia. However, the only one he'd worked under was Andrus, though Peter Andrus was Northern and both of Jeb's parents had been from the South. Andrus, to his credit, tried not to look annoyed to see that the young Cain had arrived late.
“Lieutenant Cain,” said General Marsh said in welcome, when he saw the young man had appeared to stand uncertainly just inside the entrance.
“I was sent for,” Jeb said, but said no more, as that was the end of the information he'd been given. He looked from one man to the next, until he'd made eye contact with all four. Only Andrus gave him a stiff nod of the head as any indication of previous interaction, which Jeb found surprising, because he knew Andrus wasn't too fond of him.
Andrus made a very formal, sweeping gesture over the map spread across the table. “We require your insight, Lieutenant.”
Jeb took a few tentative steps forward, his footfalls quiet and muffled by the dirt floor. “My insight?” he asked, stopping a few feet from the table and the men surrounding it.
“Your experience with the Resistance is invaluable to our cause at the moment, Cain,” another of the men, Williamson, spoke up.
Jeb smirked, finding this funny. “I only led the Resistance for a few months.”
It had been after a bloody encounter with the Longcoats, the then-leader, Roberts, slumped over the body of his dead son. Jeb, who had been with the boy when he'd fallen, who was barely more than a boy himself, stood far to the back of the tent, saying nothing, watching nothing but the father bending over the body of his son.
Thoughts of his own parents swirled in his head, memories of being told by a derisive Coat that his Resister father was dead. The body of his mother, laying amidst broken sticks and fallen leaves, dead and glassy-eyed. Only his teeth sunk into the end of his tongue had kept the tears at bay.
Hours later, after night had fallen, the broken Roberts had stumbled away from the cold body, had looked around the tent in which he stood, and his eyes had rested long on the ambush plans scattered on the scrubbed wooden tabletop.
“I'm finished,” Roberts had croaked, and he walked out of the tent. He held the flap open for Jeb, showing him the men and women that bustled around the camp; activity was subdued, quiet. They'd lost more than one that day; no one seemed to want to make too much noise, in fear of bringing more death down upon them. Roberts gave Jeb the chance to take a good, long look. “They're all yours. Lead them or leave them, but I'm done.”
The tent flap dropped then, and Roberts was gone. Jeb never saw him again.
He'd been out of the suit less than a week, and suddenly he was leading the Resistance that had landed him in it in the first place.
The generals watched silently as Jeb stared hard at the maps spread out across the table. Though they thought he studied them carefully, they could never know that the young Cain didn't see them at all, didn't see the lines and markings, the small red tack that was set in the southeastern most corner of the biggest map, pinning the entire thing to the table. Another, smaller, map rested on top of the first; this one had a large green expanse in the southeast circled in red.
“What do you know about the Black Forest, Lieutenant?” General Marsh asked, after the silence from Jeb Cain had stretched on too long.
“Next to nothing,” Jeb said with a shake of his head. “Its uninhabited. I heard once...” And then he trailed off. A smile ghosted across his lips, before being replaced with an apologetic look towards his superiors. “Sorry, gentlemen. Just remembering the stories my father used to tell me. As I said, I know nothing about the Black Forest. I've never been there.”
General Andrus spoke next, his voice slow, his Northern accent smoothly forming his words. “We've had reports of Longcoats being seen near the edges of the forest.”
Jeb looked up from the map, curious. “Reports from who?”
“Civilians,” Williamson said. “People too afraid or too stupid to enter the woods to find out anything more.”
Jeb smirked, looking down at the map, where even the images of the forest drawn on paper seemed dark and ominous. “Can you blame them?” he asked the men who watched them. Though a few chuckled, none of them outright answered him. “Have you sent in any scouts?”
“The Queen is requesting actions not be taken at the moment until more details can be gathered,” General Bluesire said from his seat, his first words since Jeb had walked into the conference. The people of the East were instinctively wary of strangers to the point of hostility, and Bluesire was no exception. He watched Jeb with a hard glare, suspicion seeping from every worn crease of his small face.
“We meet with the Queen tomorrow to try and persuade her otherwise,” Andrus finished explaining.
Jeb frowned, sudden insight dawning as to why the Queen was hesitant to make an order. Azkadellia was afraid to make her first militaristic decision. He was sure it was; she was afraid of what knowledge she'd obtained during the annuals of the Possession. This must have been what she'd been fretting over during the events surrounding her coronation, and why she'd been so closed off when he'd left her early that very morning after the ball.
Thinking of Azkadellia and her strange, distant behavior, however, wasn't going to get this meeting over with any faster, and he knew that. Pushing thoughts of her away, Jeb scanned the map, following the lines that led upwards into the far west, where the hidden barracks of the outlanders had been, buried deep in the ground. Though unmarked, he knew exactly where it had lain. Now gone, like it had never been.
“No activity from the outlanders?” Jeb asked.
Though the other generals took this as an offhand question, Andrus understood the reason for Jeb's interest in the activity to the West. “The borders to the west have been quiet,” he said.
Silence fell over the tent then, bearing down on his shoulders as he waited for someone to speak. When no one did, Jeb sighed heavily, and looked up hard at Andrus. “You still haven't quite explained why you had to drag me from the city to speak to me, if you're going to Central tomorrow to speak to the Queen.”
“Lieutenant, we're hoping to have you transferred from the Queen's guard detail,” General Marsh told him, without so much as blinking. Jeb's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he bit his tongue as he listened to what the generals were ordering of him. “We'd like you to remain in the south for the time being.”
“Until when?”
“If Her Majesty approves of our plan,” Andrus said, “we'd like you to lead the scouting mission into the forest. We have good reason to believe their base-camp is in deep, near the heart.” The general pointed to a place on the map. Jeb squinted to see the words printed, but they were too smudged to make out. “You and your men will infiltrate the camp and discover what information you can.”
Jeb shook his head slowly. The last time he'd seen a plan where so many things could go wrong, he was sending his best munitions man to the Tower to lay explosives to blow the generators. When he realized the generals were watching him, he shrugged his shoulders.
“On Her Majesty's orders,” was all he could manage to say.
Dismissed a few moments later, Jeb left the generals' tent to find some place to sleep. A day in camp tomorrow, and by suns-down he'd have his orders. If the Queen gave the generals permission to continue against the enemy, or if she told the generals to wait until they had more information... What happened to him the day after tomorrow was completely in Azkadellia's hands, and as much as that fact should reassure him, he had a feeling he wasn't getting back to Central City any time soon.
Wyatt Cain followed DG patiently a good twenty paces after she left Azkadellia's former chambers, but once she'd rounded the corner and was out of sight of her sister's guard detail, his hand closed about her upper-arm and he pulled her back against him to stop her full-throttle forward progress. She whirled around, eyes blazing and ready for an argument; he looked at her hard, to tell her he was in no mood for a fight and she was better off not to go looking for one.
“You gonna tell me why you're runnin' out of here so fast, Deeg?”
She opened her mouth to speak, only to promptly close it again. She looked away from him as she composed the thoughts that were surely bouncing like scattered marbles in her head. When she did speak, it was with a voice of wavering uncertainty. “Because, its time.” She stopped short after those words, and then grinned, an inward smile at herself. “You know, I never thought I'd hear myself say that,” she said with a small laugh, “but there you go. That's the reason. Its time to go.”
He frowned. “Right this very minute.”
“Right this very minute,” she said with a firm nod. “You like traveling at night, don't you?”
Sighing, he let go of her; his mind, even at that moment, was trying to gain control over the situation, working over everything that needed to be done before they left. It was near midnight. If she wanted to leave in the dead of night, the most he could do was to make sure things were set to right before they went.
“Go back to your room and get your things,” he said, commanded, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise at his tone. “I'll be down in a few minutes for you. Don't come lookin' for me if you get antsy, understand?”
Her lips parted, as if readying to argue with him, but after deep breath, DG seemed to come to the realization he wasn't contesting her decision to leave. Though she didn't know it, a small part of him agreed with her. Better to leave now, than to try and say goodbye in the morning. He watched her walk away from him, towards her suite, and when she was out of his sight, he doubled back the way they'd come.
Glitch sat serenely in a stiff backed chair in Azkadellia's half-emptied former sitting room; the advisor was undisturbed by Cain's sudden arrival, as if he'd been waiting for his friend to come back with further instruction. Glitch's smile was warm, easy, and it settled his nerves slightly, much to his surprise.
“Corporal Hass,” Cain said first, wanting to address his issues as quickly as possible.
Glitch nodded in understanding. “I will have him dispatched first thing in the morning.”
Cain raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “You read my mind,” he admitted.
Glitch's smile dissolved into a smirk, half there, entirely bemused. “Might as well give the poor guy one more night in his own bed before sending him off. You're sure that you're heading to Milltown?”
“Yeah,” Cain said with a small, grim nod. “Tell him to ask for Hank or Emily Denslow when he arrives. That's sure to be where he'll find us.”
There wasn't much else that needed saying, or required the attention of the royal advisor. Cain lingered a moment longer to give the closed bedroom door a wary glance; Glitch must have caught this gesture, because his next words were comforting. “Things will be fine on the home-front, Cain,” Glitch said, “you don't have to worry about things around here. Just go, keep DG out of trouble.”
Cain nodded, and shook the advisor's hand when it was offered. The men stood clasping hands a moment longer than necessary, before Glitch made a jerk of his head towards the door to the hallway. “We'll try to keep it quiet as long as possible,” Glitch interjected when Cain took a step back and had made a half-turn towards the door. “But someone is going to notice eventually that DG hasn't been seen in a while.”
Cain frowned. “Well, hopefully we'll be back by that time.”
Glitch grinned wide. “Yes, the sooner you leave, the sooner you get back. And the sooner we can start planning this ridiculously obscene royal wedding I hear is coming up.”
Giving Glitch one last, patronizing glare, Cain turned on his heel and walked out of the sitting room. The late hour kept the hallways empty, and he ran into no one as he crossed the level towards DG's suite; it seemed to him, however, that someone had given the order to clear the floor, because it seemed almost ghostly quiet, the sound of his footsteps echoing tellingly on the tiled floor.
The door to DG's quarters was wide open, and as he came closer, he could hear her shuffling around, but when he stepped properly into the room, he couldn't see her. “DG?” he called out softly, and there was a cessation of movement in the bedroom. After a seconds-long pause, the noise picked up again. He stood near the threshold, and waited for her to come out.
It only took her a few more moments, and she came out of the bedroom. She'd changed into a pair of jeans, from where she'd gotten them he could only guess, and a wool coat, buttons undone, the front hanging open. The canvas rucksack that he'd watched her fret over for the last few days was slung over her shoulder, and he was certain she'd hastily gone over the contents at least once more since he'd sent her to gather her things. Her sneakers were clutched in her hands.
“I'm almost ready,” she said quietly, apologetically. There was a definite falter in her voice that hadn't been there when she'd told him that they had to leave, not twenty minutes before. She sat down in a chair, letting the bag slide to the floor as she jammed her feet into her shoes. He watched her fumble for a moment with the laces, but soon she was standing and picking up her pack again, watching him expectantly.
From across the room, he could see her shaking. Only the slightest tremble, but enough to be a true presence. Her brave face barely concealed the fact that she looked ready to cry. Somewhere in the space between leaving him in the hallway and his reappearance, she'd lost her nerve to get this done and get it done quick.
“You'd best find somethin' to cover your hair,” he told her. “Someone's gonna notice you when we're leavin' the city.”
Her eyes seemed to brighten, her corners of her mouth quirking in the slightest hint of a smile. He watched, eyebrows slowly raising in silent question as she screwed her eyes shut. Seconds later there was a shift, though any other description past that was beyond his knowledge; all he knew was that he was staring at a blonde DG, her hair shorter and brushing her shoulders, her eyes a darker brown than her sister's. Her features remained the same, but at the same time had received some sort of touch from her magic, for she suddenly seemed bright and sunny, emotions weighted by nothing.
Finding his voice, he tried to stop himself from frowning at her. “Its a nice trick, Darlin',” he admitted. “Put a hat on anyway.”
Grumbling, she dropped her back near her feet and walked back into the bedroom, only to reappear a few minutes later with a familiar black cloche pulled down over her hair. The blonde locks still surrounding her face were distracting. She held her hands away from herself, waiting for his approval. Nodding, he reached for her, and without a look back at the room she was leaving behind, DG walked out past him, only pausing long enough to stoop and pick her bag up.
Leaving the palace turned out to be less of a challenge than he had thought it would be. As late as it was, there was very little activity about the palace; taking the stairs, they met no one, and when they broke out of the doors into the bitterly chill night, DG seemed to walk with less trepidation in her steps. The night was unseasonably cold, and a harsh wind swept through the streets.
They waited in the shadows until the two men patrolling the perimeter fence had left the vicinity of the guard shack, leaving only one lone uniformed guard for them to worry about. Tucking DG in underneath his arm, Cain walked straight out through the gates. The man sitting inside the small building stood and nodded his head as the ex-Tin Man passed through the gates. If he knew who Cain was smuggling out of the palace, he neither showed recognition nor moved to stop the pair. And as easily as that, they were free.
Keeping her hugged close against his side, he guided her through the streets of the city, to his apartment; only a quick stop to retrieve his belongings, and he'd take her through the gates of the city. If they met no trouble within the gates, or on the road, they would reach Milltown not long after the second sun came up. The cold night was going to present a problem for DG, he knew, but there wasn't anything to be done except for her to suffer through it. She'd get used to traveling again soon enough.
When the door of the apartment was closed and locked behind them, he left her in the kitchen to move straight into his bedroom. Pulling his things out of the closet, he began to ready himself. Shrugging off his jacket, he tossed it down on the bed and picked up his gun-belt. After tossing it on over his shoulder, he went through the motions of adjusting and buckling it.
The sound of her sneakered footsteps coming across the kitchen joined the sound of the belt buckle. In his peripheral vision, he saw her come to the doorway of his bedroom, to lag listlessly against it. Neither of them had bothered with the lights, but he could feel her eyes on his back as she watched him.
Finishing with the belt, he stooped to tie the leather straps that would secure the holster to his leg. But as he bent, her words cut through the air.
“I just need for you to tell me once that we can do this,” she whispered, and he could hardly tell if the words had been meant for him or if she were trying to reassure herself. Letting go of the ties, he stood again to watch her; she'd taken the hat off her head, and was slumping so lost and uncertain against the door-frame. While his mind had been completely absorbed with the thought of who he was going to have to wake up to get their horses from the stable outside the city, DG was still stuck back in the palace. The sight of her stopped him and his preparations; letting the holster and its ties swing, he crossed the room to go to her.
“Deeg,” he said slowly, unsure of what to tell her.
“Just once,” she muttered, a bit pathetically, “and then I'll be fine, I promise.”
Sighing, he reached out a hand to brush his fingers through her blonde hair; it felt silky and smooth beneath his fingers, and he had to remind himself that it was only an illusion, that it wasn't real. It was the oddest thing that had happened to him in a long time, but part of him had to admit, now that he was in DG's company full time, things would probably only get stranger from then on out. His lip seemed to twitch on its own at the thought.
“I don't know what I can tell you,” he said slowly, watching her carefully and making sure every word he said hit home. His hand still playing in her hair, he took his time with his answer. “There's no guarantee this is gonna be easy, or even possible. I don't like makin' promises, but what I do know is that I'm gonna be doin' my damndest to keep you safe while you're tryin' to figure it all out.”
She smiled gratefully up at him. Seeing her settle, feeling her relax under his fingertips, he moved back to the bed, left her in the doorway so he could finish readying to go. He'd bent again and was tying the straps of the holster to his thigh when she whispered meekly, “Thank you.”
Finished tightening the knot, he straightened his spine. “You don't have to thank me, DG.” That much was true, there was no reason for it. But, whether she knew it or not, when all of this was over and they were safe, she was sure as hell going to marry him. Then he'd focus on getting her out of the city for good. If this goose chase was what they had to do to get to that point, then this was the road they would travel.
If she had a response for him, she kept it to herself, and watched in silence as he sheathed his revolver and put his duster back on. His bag was already packed and waiting; he picked it up by the shoulder strap and walked out of the bedroom. He took DG's bag into his hand and escorted her out of the apartment.
They left the city on foot. With their collars turned up against the wind, together they walked along the length of the city wall, passed through the gate, before crossing the causeway that spanned the lake; the breeze that came up off the water knocked the air out of their lungs as they left the shelter of the city gates. His eyes went upwards as their feet carried them farther from the city; the sky was clear, the moons were rising higher as the minutes passed; they'd have more than enough light to travel by, though he wasn't sure how well the light would permeate the forest once they'd entered the safety of its cover.
Almost two hours after she'd burst out of Azkadellia's room to tell him it was time to leave, Cain was watching his princess mount her horse, as he tossed a few coins to a bleary-eyed stable-hand. Pulling up onto his own mare's back, he saw DG standing in her saddle, her eyes focused on something far away. Turning his head, he saw Central City silhouetted against the dark sky, glowing faintly in the distance; he wondered if she was only taking a long last glance, her attention caught by the reflection of the lights on the water, or if she were focused on something more intimate. It wasn't hard to make out the Central palace, the tallest beacon of the city; for the second time that night, he considered where her mind might still be caught.
“Gonna miss it?” he asked her, as he reined his horse into the direction he wanted. He was giving the animal an affectionate pat on the neck when DG finally spoke, as he feigned interest in something else.
“Not really,” she lied, as easily as she breathed. He considered her for a moment, as she dragged her eyes away from the city and brought them to his. “Can we go?”
Frowning at her, he nudged his horse with his heels and rode east, glad for how quickly DG followed.
After two hours, he was keeping an eye out for a place to break off the road and rest. Though their pace wasn't fast, DG hadn't spoken a single word, and kept sneaking glances at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention. Annoyed, he signaled for her to stop at the first branch in the road they met.
“What's the matter?” he asked her, the second he was off his horse. She stayed mounted, and yet somehow seemed to shrink away from him when he approached. Wyatt sighed, before reaching up to grab her around the waist. She didn't fight him, but he wasn't completely sure it was an accident when her feet landed on top of his.
He growled at her when she looked up at him sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, and he could hear her trying to work up a cheery voice to go with the smile she was able to flash so easily. “What's up, Tin Man? Why are we stopping?”
Without answering, he walked the horses a little farther into the trees before tethering them loosely to a tree. He watched his own hands as they made the knot, the unadorned fingers working quickly. Behind him, he could hear her walking slowly towards him, but he whirled around fast when he heard her stumble.
“Sorry,” she muttered again. She'd managed to land herself on her hands and knees. “I tripped on a loose brick.”
Despite the restraint he wanted, his sigh was aggravated as he stepped forward to help her to her feet, then stood back as she brushed off her clothes. When she straightened, he could tell she was a few straws short of breaking, that much was clearly evident on her face, glamor or not.
“So why did we stop?” she asked again.
Cain sighed, and looked around. The trees on either side of the narrow bit of road they were on were thick, and they stood somewhere in the span of transition where the paved bricks gave way to hard-packed dirt. It seemed to him as if some bricks were missing, and he could spot the one she'd tripped on, jutting up at an angle.
“I figured,” he said slowly, “now'd be a good time for you to start talkin'.”
From under the brim of her black hat, she glared up at him. “What if I don't want to start talking, Tin Man?”
“Then its gonna be a real quiet trip, Princess,” he said pointedly, meaning it, very seriously, as a threat.
She considered him for a moment, and he knew his words had struck a chord. “Azkadellia,” she said slowly, and though he thought she only meant to pause, he soon realized she had no intention of speaking past her sister's name.
He frowned. Glitch had told him about the Queen's loss, as quiet as a conspirator while they'd waited for DG, whispering low that no one in the court knew that Azkadellia had taken a lover. Cain, however, had thought that if one person knew who was taking extra pleasures with the Queen, it was his son - perhaps it was lucky the kid had been called out of the city by General Andrus, before the entire panel of Azkadellia's advisors was after him for the volatile information.
Clearing his throat, as if to prepare her for his intention to speak, he said “I know about your sister. And I know her... trouble tonight was the reason we're hightailin' it out of the city. You don't have to -”
Her eyes widened and he had no warning to brace for her outburst. She threw her arms up into the air and began to shout, her voice carrying loud and far. “I had to leave her, Cain! Again! She has no one, she's going to need me, but oh, no, its time to exit stage right instead.”
“It could've waited 'til morning, DG,” he told her calmly.
“No,” she said, and her voice was firm, but the threat of tears lingered somewhere near the back of her throat, making her sound vulnerable, and he felt his heart give a little. “I had a hard enough time tearing myself away from her tonight. I wanted to climb into the bed with her. If I'd waited until morning, leaving would've killed me.”
“So you're gonna give yourself hell over it instead?” he asked, and weakly, she shrugged her shoulders. “How long's that gonna last, Deeg?”
She looked offended. “Not long,” she said, and she frowned at the skeptical look he gave her.
“Its already been too long,” he said, nodding towards the horses that were tethered a little further down the road. “Just let it go and don't worry about Azkadellia. She'll be fine until you get back.”
“She has no one,” DG whispered quietly. “Just me, and I -”
“Don't start,” he said, glaring down hard at her and taking her by both arms. “Your sister is goin' through a rough time right now, but she's obviously got somebody, otherwise...” he said, but trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence. He sighed. “Let it be.”
She was silent, and he looked down at her face. She was staring up at him, with a calculating expression that told him she was about to say something mouthy. Sure enough... “You know, Cain,” she said, “they've got a saying on the Other Side. It goes, 'the pot calling the kettle black'.”
He raised an eyebrow in challenge, not about to take her bait. “You really wanna start that discussion right now?”
“Not really, but I thought I'd toss that in there for good measure.” She was smiling again, and it seemed that she'd at least listened to his words. Satisfied with that for now, he kissed her quickly on the lips, but found himself leaning down again for another, and then another. Her arms were sneaking about his shoulders, pulling herself up on tiptoe to get closer to him, and his arms were wrapping around her waist to mold into the curve of her back. The kiss was unrestrained and the clutch messy, such seemed to be her sudden desire to climb right inside of him.
Regretfully, after a few moments of quiet, hot kisses, he forced himself to disentangle her arms from around his neck, to hold her a safe distance away. “Soon,” he mumbled against her temple, nudging her hat upwards with his nose to get at her skin. The sleekness of her hair felt strange under his lips, not the naturally curly tangle he was used to pressing his face into.
Minutes later, they were mounting their horses again and rejoining the main road to Milltown. At dawn they stopped for a few moments again, as the stone markers on the side of the road telling them how many spans they'd traveled. Sheltered in the trees, the wind didn't bother them much, but DG's cheeks were pink and her fingers numb by the time the suns started to come up. As they neared their location, his mind seemed set on a hot mug of coffee; the effects of the full day prior and the long night on the road were beginning to dull his senses.
It was near full-light outside when the roofs of Milltown finally came into view, and Cain suppressed a smile when DG urged her horse on a little faster, racing towards her only connection to a life lived and over, now only a mere memory.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who is taking the time to comment - you know I love them! This story is going to be as long as "Of Light", by the looks of it. Love it? I thought you might. Comments feed my muse, lets keep her chubby on love, people!
Table Of Contents:
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11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20
21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30
31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40
41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48