"Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run"
Title: Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
Author: Rissy James
Characters: Cain, DG, Glitch, Raw (appearances by: Jeb, Tutor, Lavender, Azkadellia, Ahamo)
Pairing: Cain/DG
Rating: 14+ (subject to change)
Summary: The fade to black was merely the blink of an eye. Respite for only seconds. After all, the road is long.
Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
When Last We Met: Since the double eclipse, the Outer Zone has come to know tentative peace under the regency of Lady Lavender. However, as she grows weaker, the threat of a New Resistance grows stronger. Wyatt Cain has returned to Central City to help the Gales in their time of need - if one stubborn princess will allow him to make amends.
Chapter Six: The Calm Before
A week to the day after Cain had arrived in Central City, the announcement of Lavender's 'illness' and Azkadellia's impending ascension was delivered to the denizens of the Outer Zone. With DG and her father standing as representatives for the regent, what DG had scathingly referred to as a 'press-conference' was given from the steps of the palace. Twenty stories above, from the relative safety of one of the smaller libraries, Cain wondered if he was living through the beginning of the end, or if it had already long since passed him by.
He'd been there since before the suns had come up, as he'd found himself awake in the blue hour. This corner library was where he'd often found DG and Glitch hiding, their own personal sanctuary in all the mess and buzz that was the early days after the double eclipse, just after the palace had been reclaimed for the Gales. Now, it seemed mostly abandoned, to the point where dust had gathered on the shelves, forgotten even by the cleaning staff.
Standing at the window, Cain stared out at the city. The structures and towers that surrounded the Central Palace were some of the most beautiful in the city, architectural marvels that hearkened to the prosperous days of the centuries that had passed since the city's founding. He'd been the first in his family for generations beyond count to live not only within the walls of Central City itself, but beyond the borders of the Eastern Province.
He'd been little more than a kid then; at the first sight of the fortified city, his feet had rooted themselves to the bricks and stayed there as he gaped with a wonder befitting of his age and experience. As he passed through the gates, he stared up at the imposing towers that crowded the sky; he didn't think his eye had ever climbed so high. He'd only felt intimidation like that once more in his life, laying his eyes for the first time on the Sorceress' tower and wondering how the hell he was meant to get in alive, and out again with a Viewer, a headcase, and a renegade princess in tow.
Now, twenty-three annuals after he'd first clapped eyes on the burnished spires of Central City and eight months after his makeshift recovery mission at the Tower, nothing in either of these so-called marvels fazed him in the least. The city was just a city, reconstructing slowly but still teeming with corruption below the surface.
How would this announcement of Lady Lavender's untimely abdication affect the quiet presence that was the New Resistance, he wondered; would those dissenters be driven into reckless, or possibly even violent, action?
The thought, the uncertainty of it, made him want to sit down. He didn't know how long he'd been standing at the window; since his annuals in the suit, it seemed there could be no end to the amount of time he could endure remaining in one place. There was no other that could contest him at standing still, but after the thoughts of what this announcement could be bringing down onto his head, no, his shoulders, well... it was a little more than he cared to take without moving. If anything, there was an urge in his feet to begin pacing, but instead, he forced himself into a chair, his knee bouncing a static rhythm.
He managed to calm himself down - only just, it seemed - when the door to the library opened and he was joined by two familiar faces, both looking as grim and unsure as he himself felt. Without speaking a word, Raw took a chair opposite him, casting dark-eyed, sidelong glances every few moments; Glitch took up Cain's previous position at the window, going a step further as to throw the curtains open wide amidst a torrent of dust.
It was, of course, Glitch who broke the valued silence. "I figured I would find you here."
Raw snorted, then chuckled. When Cain raised an eyebrow, Raw said in a low, conspiratorial voice, "Twelfth room we checked."
With his back to them, Glitch heaved a great, much put-upon sigh. "I do wish people would stop exaggerating to make me look the fool. It was ten rooms, I believe, and no more."
Raw shook his head. "Twelve. Checked Cain's room and DG's room first."
Glitch froze, which in Cain's mind proved Raw to be right. It took only a few seconds longer to realize what had just been said, and Cain turned a hard, unamused glare at the Viewer seated near him, quite within throttling distance. "Why DG's room?"
While Raw deemed it wise not to respond, Glitch was more than forthcoming. "Oh, don't sound so offended, Wyatt." The use of his given name startled Cain, but did not distract him. "It's not like we expected to find you abed, or in any other way occupied."
Cain grimaced as he stood up from his chair. "These assumptions got anything to do with you dragging me into Central and keeping me here?" It had long since occurred to him that the complexities of his relationship with DG were known to their friends, but it hadn't struck him as possible - or at least probable - that his feelings would be so manipulated to benefit anyone, even if that person so happened to be an unwitting DG.
"Of course not; calm down, Tin Man," Glitch said, lowering his hands in a placating gesture. "I thought you might have been with DG before she - well, in any case, I apologize." The sincerity of his words was more than enough for Cain without further explanation from Glitch, which could end up taking more time than he cared to donate at the moment. He put up a hand to stem whatever might come out of his friend's mouth.
"You keep that smutty mind of yours in your own head, where it belongs," Cain said, though there was no hardness in the comment.
"Too late for that," came Glitch's easy reply.
The room fell then into what could almost be considered an amiable silence. The minutes ticked away, turned into ten and then twenty, and still the quiet drew out around them. The door to the library had been left wide open, but no sound came in from the corridor outside; it seemed as if they were the only bodies occupying this distant corner of the palace.
Finally, his curiosity got the better of him. "When was the last time you met with Lavender?" Cain asked, turning in his chair to face Glitch.
For his part, Glitch seemed to take a moment to consider the answer, though he probably knew down to the hour. "The day before last, I believe," he said, his lips quirking with the traces of a smile. "Why?"
Without answering, Cain turned to Raw. "Yesterday, before you. Very quick," the Viewer said automatically, before Cain had even had the chance to part his lips. Frowning now, he waited for Raw to continue, which he did with great reservation. "She will die," he said, "she is prepared to die. Queen is very sad, very weak, but still fighting."
Glitch walked closer to the two, his voice heavy and low. "Raw, she isn't queen."
The Viewer shook his head, and gave his friends a patient smile. By the Gods, Wyatt couldn't stand when he did that; there was no superiority in Viewer, but his own inferiority in failing to understand these creatures of Light and power. "To people out there, she is queen," Raw said, turning his whole body in his chair toward the window, where the view of the city was little more than the buildings that surrounded the palace, silent sentinels forever guarding the heart of the city. "To Raw, she is queen." He touched his heart.
Cain bit back a growl; he had no stomach for all this sentiment. "Why is she dying?"
Raw shrugged his shoulders. "Light is fading." He spoke as if it were the way of things, and perhaps it was. This was all far beyond Cain's comprehension. "Queen does not want help. Just wants more time; there is very little left."
"No clue as to why it started now?" Cain cast a sidelong glance at Glitch. "After all, it's been fifteen annuals, hasn't it?"
Glitch could only shrug. "There is no way to know. It's possible that so many annuals suspended inside the thaumaturgic isolation chamber crafted by the Sorceress and her alchemists has affected her and continues to affect her. It was suggested putting her back inside the chamber, but she violently refused."
Cain snorted. He could not blame the woman there.
"Not always have to be a reason," Raw said. "Sometimes things just are."
Without ceremony, Azkadellia quietly resumed the duties that her mother had overtaken after the double eclipse. The regency of the Lady Lavender marked the first time in almost ten annuals when the O.Z. had known internal peace. If anything, Lavender had set the stage for her daughter to make a successful bid as queen.
The announcement itself had sent a shiver of unrest through the palace; the official word that Lavender was indeed ailing, and that the fallen daughter of the country's darkest hour was once again rising to govern the people. Within hours, a vigil for Lavender was gathering at the gates of the palace. When news of it had first reached Cain's ears, he'd gone to one of the lower floors to see it with his own eyes. The sight of so many candles flickering beyond the iron of the gates would have troubled his heart if his mind weren't already set to far more important things.
It eased his conscience some that he wasn't the only one on watch that night; the guards on the gate had been doubled, along with the perimeter fence patrols. According to Glitch, who, to Cain, was about as reliable a source as any despite his unofficial status about the palace, part of the delay in giving the announcement was to give the army time to pull men from the borders and the far reaches of the provinces. No chances would be taken with the safety of the royal family, or the innocent citizens who could get caught up in whatever fallout there would be. From the - quite unofficial - sound of things, a person wouldn't be able to walk down the street outside without bumping shoulders with Royal Army clad in plain clothes, eyes and ears always open for the first sign of discontent.
He, however, had a deeper purpose. If trouble came from the streets of the city, he would be stealing out of the southern gate, one fourth of a mismatched set. Finaqua would keep them safe enough until the skies over Central City cleared. Whatever would become of him after that, it seemed too far off to tell.
Footsteps approached him, which he ignored. The hallway he occupied had been quiet, but for a few people who'd swept past him on their way to their destinations; none had bothered him, so when a hand touched his shoulder, he turned so abruptly toward the intruder that she - DG, dolled up for dinner - took a step away from him.
"I didn't think you were the type to scare easily," she said, offering up a nervous laugh.
"Wasn't expecting company."
"Should I go?"
He shook his head, and stepped back from the window, offering her a better view of the people gathered on the street beyond the gate. He watched her reflection, instead of her face, as she stood close enough to the glass to fog it with her soft breathing. Her mouth had screwed itself into an uncertain line, her brow furrowed. After a moment, a sigh escaped her, steaming the glass and obscuring her reflection as she leaned her forehead against the heavy drapery framing the window.
"They don't want her to die," she said, her words muffled into the smooth brocade.
"No one does," was the only reply he could muster.
"My sister is..." She trailed off, searching for the right word. "I don't know. Worried, scared. The calmest frantic person I've ever met."
"She'll be fine," he said, though it wasn't in him to be optimistic. Did that make him a liar, then? One glance at her told him his guile wouldn't sway her. The months that had passed since she'd crossed to this side had opened her eyes; she knew nothing in the Outer Zone was easy, or beautiful; nothing came without cost.
He knew not what to say, or what he could give her; there was no comfort to be found anywhere near him. Once, he may have given up his shoulder, taken her by the elbow and drawn her closer, offering her little more than his steadfastness, but now the gulf between them proved too wide to be bridged with such meaningless gestures. He knew he would not see her cry; he'd lost the honoured privilege of witnessing her true emotions. She was the steadfast one now, or at least she pushed herself to be where he was concerned.
"I wish -" She stopped herself short before she'd truly begun, but that one wistful whisper was enough to catch his attention again, to take his mind away from the miseries he'd brought down upon them with his leaving. He waited for her to continue, but she seemed to have lost her nerve.
"You wish what?" he pressed; maybe he wanted nothing more than to listen to her talk, to drown out the harsh voice that played cruel tricks on his self-worth.
DG glanced at him; judging by the uncertainty in her eyes, he guessed she was worried about upsetting him. He could have laughed, if the expression on her face had not been so damned deadly serious; after all, his own pride had been battered and crushed upon his return, placed at her feet as the merest token of recompense - the first of many was his dreaded assumption.
She took a deep breath; he held his. "I wish - I - that we had been able to save the Mystic Man."
He didn't know if it was her words or her pained honesty that did it, but something struck a raw nerve, so suddenly that he grimaced. "This a recent regret, then?" he asked. There was no bitterness in his voice, though his insides writhed with it. The sudden onset of it all left him with little in the way of defences; he didn't know how to react without sending DG's up as well.
"No," she said, "I just was never sure how to bring it up."
"So why now?" He frowned, letting his eyes stray out the window. By morning, the view of the palace grounds would no longer be an unbroken expanse of darkness, and the crowd beyond would grow.
"No choice now. I was always sorry he was gone," she said, as gently as she could, "but I never needed him before."
Cain raised his scarred eyebrow at her, an involuntary response. It was all the encouragement she needed to keep going.
"It was just after the eclipse," she said, "after the Longcoats had surrendered, and after we'd all come to Central City. Tutor, he - well, he wanted to meet with Mother. She insisted that me and my sister be present. He didn't want us there, but he didn't really have a choice if he wanted to say his piece." She gushed out her story as fast as she was able, perhaps worried that if she stopped, even to draw breath, that the words would fail her and she'd never get it out. "He kept apologizing, it was almost all she could get out of his mouth; he didn't listen when she said she'd forgiven him, that he'd helped to save us all."
She glanced up at him, to make sure he was in agreement. He was hard-pressed to do anything but frown, but she seemed undeterred by his impassivity. With a sorry excuse for a deep breath, she went on.
"Only a Child of Light can sit on the throne of the O.Z.," she said, the slowness in which she said the words belying her understanding of them. "And while my mother is still a Daughter of Light -" She shrugged her shoulder. "- she has no power. Ever since - since -" She struggled with facts that he knew all too well himself. Into his mind sprang sepia-toned memories he would never forget, hazy and clouded through a mirror's surface.
"Since she saved you," he said quietly. "What's any of this got to do with the Mystic Man?"
"Tutor thinks he could have seen this coming a mile off," she said, laughing breathily and shaking her head. "Tutor says he knew better than anyone the workings of this world, the magic, the Light and Dark and everything that lingers in between. I probably don't need to tell you that, though, do I?"
He gave her a half-smile. No, she surely didn't. The old man had once absorbed all knowledge that he could get his greying hands on, breathing in every bit of history, lore, as greedily as he would later on inhale the vapours of the Sorceress. A scholar in the truest sense of the word down to the very core of his soul. Yes, he could have predicted the regent's ailment, Cain knew it and Tutor knew it as well; hadn't the mutt said to him that he had failed where old Astor would have succeeded?
"No one knows why she's fading, Cain," she said, her voice softening more as they came to the crux of it all. "Tutor knew she would... but she'd lived so long after - after, well, you know." She shook her head at her own inability to speak aloud the drastic magic that had taken place on her behalf - and given her second life. "He thought she had years left; that's what he told her after the eclipse, but he said he could be wrong, that he 'wasn't Astor' and couldn't ever know what would truly happen."
Cain nodded. "He said the very same thing to me; it's eating him up inside. He knows he failed her again."
DG's eyes snapped toward him, and her spine stiffened. "He didn't fail, Cain. He's been trying to find a way to help her since the eclipse, but -" Here she paused and drew in a shaky breath. Perhaps he'd been wrong when he'd assumed he wouldn't see her cry. "The Sorceress purged almost everything; nothing of the Mystic Man's remains, no books or records or anything. What she did keep is dark, dark stuff... like she raided the Restricted Section." She laughed again; he let the comment pass, having already learned long ago not to question her when she came out with something he didn't quite understand despite the plain language she used. Asking usually resulted in long-winded explanations of life on the Other Side, and he wasn't in the mindset to sit through it just then.
"The Mystic Man couldn't have saved your mother, DG," he said gently. "He never had that kind of power."
Sighing heavily, she leaned herself back against the wall, all the fight going out of her until she could barely stand on her own. What was left was tired, and just a wee bit scared, and utterly hopeless. "I know," she said. "Not now."
Cain kept his mouth shut; Tutor's words kept returning to him, deep and solemn. There was no saving Lady Lavender, and from what he was hearing, it was almost certain that there had never been a way. Glinda; he had to bite back a snort of contempt even at the thought. Legends as old as the Grey Gale herself; the Outer Zone had been abandoned long ago, protection lost. If forces higher than he could ever imagine truly did exist, the indifference and suffering the O.Z. had endured over the past centuries was more than enough to prove the land was on its own. The Gales were all that remained of that forgotten line.
That don't bode well at all, does it?
Table Of Contents
One - Two - Three - Four - Five
Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten
Eleven - Twelve - Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen
Sixteen - Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty
Twenty One - Twenty Two - Twenty Three - Twenty Four - Twenty Five
Twenty Six - Twenty Seven - Twenty Eight - Twenty Nine - Thirty
Thirty One - Thirty Two - Thirty Three - Thirty Four - Thirty Five
Thirty Six - Thirty Seven - Thirty Eight - Thirty Nine - Forty