Brink (The Ruin Saga Book 2) (12 page)

Nobody could sneak up on him.

Home and the others evaporated from his thoughts with an almost-audible
poof
. He resisted the urge to pinch himself, at the same time holding his tongue until he was sure his throat wouldn’t spasm. She joined him on the ridge and the two of them stood looking over the orchards in silence for a while, neither of them looking at the other.

“How’s that?” he said finally.

She pointed skywards, to the birds passing overhead. “They always show up before you. Harbingers.”

“I ought to watch that.”

“Not exactly stealthy.”

“Why not hang up a sign?”

He could feel her eyes moving over him. His skin buzzed as though she had run a hand from his scalp to his loins. “How long are you here?”

Lucian’s handwriting popped back into the front of his mind. His hand hovered over his pocket. “Not long,” he said grimly.

She nodded, turned back to look at the orchards. “Some people enjoy the company of visitors. If they ask when you’ll be back, what should I tell them?”

His heart skipped a beat. “Depends on how our talks go with your good mayor.”

“If you were to hazard a guess?”

“I can’t think of anything that would keep us away for long.”

“Oh? What could you possibly want with a dump like this?”

James stole a glance at her, smooth flushed cheeks highlighted against her alabaster skin. “It isn’t all bad,” he said. Before he knew it he was inching closer, unable to stop himself, his feet moving of their own accord. All thought of what it could mean for the mission, the politics, for her, all forgotten.

She too had turned from the horizon and was facing him. Her eyes danced over him, and he realised that it wasn’t only her cheeks that were flushed. Her neck was blushing a vibrant pink, and her chest heaved under all that cloth. The air was filled with their ragged breathing, and as though caught by invisible hands, they began to fall towards one another.

The hill, the sky, the grass; all of it was gone, vanished. All that he saw was her dirt-streaked face, those stainless-steel eyes, and thick young lips. His throat tightened, his knees trembled, and despite all his long years of scholarly training, he stumbled closer, longing for nothing more than to fold himself into her, to run his hands over every inch of her skin.

He was going to do it. They were a foot away, then inches, then the heady well of lavender and talc blinded him, and finally the warmth of her breath caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes.

“Excellent!” Malverston’s voice came crashing in through the purple haze that had fallen over James’s mind. “People, come, come! We have word!”

James whirled to see the mayor’s bulbous mass come crashing outside with Alex in tow, his arms held wide and his head thrown back with rancorous glee. A tankard of ale swung at his hip, and even from this distance, James could make out spots of food stuck in the knots of his beard. “Come, come! Great celebrations all around.” A moment later, irate. “
Get out here!
”

In seconds doors all over town opened, and ant-like heads popped up among the orchards far down the hill. Then they were herding back to the square, as though drawn by the same magnetism that had almost clamped James’s lips to Beth’s, great thick clods of people that entirely destroyed the privacy the ridge had enjoyed only seconds ago.

Beth stepped away hurriedly and made to follow.

“Wait!” he said.

Her eyes warned him
no
. “You’ll be back soon?” On top of the genuine concern of her frown, he caught the faint glimmer of feminine tease.

He made to persist a moment longer, saw the droves of townsfolk pouring into the square, then sighed. “You have no idea.”

She winked, mischief written in the hitch of her brow, then a group of women running with their skirts held high passed. She melded into their ranks and was gone. James was left behind, lame upon the ridge, Chuck still hooting and pecking away upon his elbow. He looked at the bird, sighed once more, and then took after the crowd. “Careful, Chuck. She’s clearly after you.”

“Our good friends have made us a great offer!” Malverston boomed to his flock. He had taken centre position in the town square, standing atop the rickety frame the women used to scale the well for water. “Come closer, my friends, closer!”

James slipped into the crowd’s ranks, drawing his slicker’s hood close over his head. He needn’t have bothered, for nobody even glanced his way. All eyes were trained fast on the platform.

Alex was making an admirable effort to keep his dignity, swaddled under Malverston’s beefy shoulder. Though dwarfed by the sheer volume of meat hanging from the jovial mayor’s frame, somehow he seemed the more significant of the pair—and it was obvious Malverston sensed it.

Malverston was red faced, and his voice took on a stentorian note, turning the crowd’s attention him through force of volume. “Our good friends and I have come to an agreement regarding an endeavour I deem most profitable. Through my efforts—and their assistance—all the townspeople stand to benefit, in time.”

James suppressed a smirk. He was too good to be true, Malverston, almost a caricature. It was difficult to believe anyone could genuinely be that conceited.

“Newquay’s Moon will henceforth pledge its allegiance to Mr Cain’s most excellent cause. In exchange for a fair share of certain commodities, we shall aid in their selfless efforts to save the treasures of the Old World. Between us, we will preserve knowledge that stands to be lost.”

James tensed, but avoided meeting Alex’s eye. What had he agreed to this time? Malverston would surely have tried to wrangle something extra, and most likely there would be hidden repercussions down the line. One thing was certain: there was no charity in this deal from either party. Newquay’s Moon was a means to an end for Malverston, and another piece in their mission’s puzzle for them.

But that was the way of things. They paid a price for progress, sometimes an absurd price, but every inch of territory counted. This is what it took to sow the seeds of a new beginning.

In many ways, it was hair-raising to see Alex on the front line. If anything happened to him, everything would fall apart. But there was no other choice, because nobody else could be trusted to do the job. Someday James would stand in his shoes. That was his destiny.

“We owe these wonderful people our thanks. They will haul this town and its allies to greatness, and riches of which we couldn’t have dreamed are now within our reach.”

The crowd stirred. James sensed hot and cold from the crowd, the buzz of muttering, a medley of starry-eyed hopeful imaginings from those totally under Malverston’s spell, and smouldering dissent from those who lived under his rule out of necessity. Riches would indeed come to Newquay’s Moon, but none of them would see it.

“I think we owe our new allies a round of applause. To the future!” Malverston thumped his hands together, and the crowd followed suit after some encouragement. His booming cries racked the square until the resentful patter turned to a full-blown ovation.

James clapped along with the rest of them. From the sweaty mass of bodies around him, he received a sharp poke in the ribs. He looked around to see Beth standing beside him, half hidden by a flurry of clapping hands. She offered the shadow of a coy smile, then she was clapping along with the rest of them. “Looks like we’re going to be good friends,” she said, using the cover of the racket.

“All thanks to your gracious mayor,” he called.

“I didn’t think you people would strike a deal with that slime.”

“He has things we need.”

“Things like the deeds to a few ten thousand acres?”

“Things like that.”

“I thought you were all about freedom, and electing leaders.”

He sighed. “If we can get a foothold here, we can change things from the inside. We can help you get rid of him in time.”

“But for now, you’re going to take his dirty money and hightail it away from here.”

He smiled despite himself.
No room for quaint talk with this one
.

“For now, I suppose.”

The applause died down, and Alex stepped forward to make his own additions to Malverston’s speech. James’s lips twitched into a helpless grin when he started talking, and he began wielding the crowd with practised ease. It was a skill he had had plenty of time to hone over the years, before audiences ranging from agoraphobic hermits to the backward backstreet scavenger communities in the ruins of the northern cities. The crowd’s noises took on an attentive note, and the grumbling shifted to enthused muttering.

He didn’t have to say much. “My friends, today is an historic point in our time. I hope in future years we can all look back on this as a turning point from the descent toward darkness which the End set in motion. Together, I believe we can reverse the fall of the Old World. Humanity has been struck down, but it is not defeated. There is hope in the myriad resources all around us—the time capsules left behind in the form of technology, and the knowledge hidden away in our rotting libraries.

“Things may seem desperate. As a civilisation, we are on the brink of ruin, fractured and alone. We have forgotten much of what once made us who we were. Make no mistake when I say, no matter what we do, all paths that lay before us will be difficult to travel. But we have a choice: we can choose to fight the creeping darkness, to take back what made us powerful and wise, to fight ignorance and cruelty and greed.”

Malverston’s piggy eyes twitched, but Alex continued. “All it takes is friendship. United, we can halt the decay of the bounty left behind.”

James inhaled despite himself. Beth was pushing up against his jacket. For a moment he almost pushed her away on instinct, but then took note of the crowd, rapturously focused on Alex’s every word. He glanced down at her, and risked stroking her face. A shiver ran from his finger all the way to the top of his head, tickling his heart as it passed through his chest.

“When will I see you again?” she whispered.

“I don’t know.” Lucian’s note popped into his head once more. “Maybe a while. But I’ll be back.”

He jerked, holding in a yelp. A chill had jolted through his midriff. His nerves were raw, overloaded for a moment. Then he felt her hand tracing a path across his thigh. “If you’re not, I’ll kill you.”

He swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Alex was still working his magic. “This unity will take time to set in order, and so for a time, we must part ways once more. But in the meantime, you can still make a difference, every one of you. You all have the power to change your own destinies.”

“Indeed, indeed!” Malverston’s boomed, smearing the nervousness that had crept into his voice by adding a sprinkle of jovial laughter. “With the help of a few key individuals, we can all move towards a brighter future.”

Alex’s face was neutral, but his eyes flashed with something akin to the humouring patience a parent would show a hyperactive child. “Yes, we can. But it’s important to remember that we each have a path set out before us, and where that path leads is up to us. If we’re content to wallow and shirk opportunity, to merely survive, then our last chance will slip through our fingers. But if we each act towards a common goal, then together, we can reap all that we sow. The power to save the world is in your hands.”

Moments later, the crowd erupted into raucous applause of its own accord, no urging or bullying required. It was the same everywhere they went. People had been told by the neo-feudal lords who had first seized power that they lived under the dominion of a few, that only through servitude and fealty could they bear the brunt of the great fall to come, when the leftovers of the Old World were utterly spent. All it took was for someone to lift the wool from their eyes.

One day, James would stand where Alex stood. His fate had been decided from the moment they met, days after the End. Alex had been a spotty teenager, James a newborn infant. The first people either of them had seen since the End in a new, hostile, lonely world. They had been together since.

The mass grew tighter and people stepped forward, some climbing the platform to shake Alex by the hand, others merely wanting to be closer to him. Suddenly, the rotund mass of the mayor was all but invisible—James felt he might have been the only one to clock Malverston’s thunderous face, blemished by jealousy and a stroke of fear.

Despite the surging, ebullient crowd, and even Beth, who was among the few to retain their composure, James kept his eyes fastened on Malverston, and felt a flicker of disquiet flash in his gut. There was danger there, bubbling beneath the surface. The mayor wouldn’t forget this, he was sure of it.

But the crowd took no heed. They swarmed about him, and soon they were chanting. Alex’s eyes glistened, shards of lapis lazuli set in a face brimming with dignified acceptance. He seemed set to shake the hand of every person in town. It was in these moments James saw someone else beneath Alex’s youthful golden beard, and the spry body in its prime: an old grizzled messiah, the man he was born to be. In these moments, he was Alexander.
The
Alexander Cain.

The crowd was chanting, “Three cheers for Cain. Hurrah—Hurrah—Hurrah!
Hail Cain!
”

“Leave?” Alexander frowned.

They stood not far from the platform, their heads lowered and their voices low. The crowd was still abuzz, not far away, and Malverston still stood up on the platform, eyeing them watchfully. James showed Alexander the message from Lucian. He read it in silence, and for a moment, he was Alex once more, concern blossoming behind his eyes. “When did you get this?”

“While you were with Malverston. They’re in trouble. We have to get back, now.”

“We still have business here.”

“They wouldn’t send word if they didn’t need us.”

The concern in the older man’s eyes quelled like a fire doused with a bucket of water. Alexander was back. “In time. We’ve come too far to abandon this now.”

James cursed. “Something about all this doesn’t sit right. It’s wrong.”

“We’ve done it a thousand times before. We have to compromise. Remember what I taught you.”