Everwinter: The Forerunner Archives (39 page)

"Going somewhere?" he asks, approaching the desk.

"I was going to go after my children," Jonathan replies. "I need them, Jude. Their pure, unmutated genes are the only thing that can make the Box work properly and reverse its effects." He hesitates, considering something.

"I was going to try and sneak it out of the city during sleeping hours, but the Deacons are watching me. Jude, they know that Juno is still out there somewhere, and they know that I know where she is. They want her. They think they can reverse the Final Judgment if they make her a sacrifice to the gods. The blood of the last human. If I go to her, they'll follow me. But time is growing short, and I was about to take that chance anyway." He pauses, meeting Jude's eyes full on.

"That is," he says, "until you showed up."

Jude takes a step back, shaking his head. "No, I can't. I
–"

"Do you want to right the wrongs you've committed?" Jonathan asks, no longer sympathetic but the ruthless High
Deacon once again.

Jude slumps, realizing he has no choice.

Gods, just a few weeks ago, I was most of the way to Everwinter already...

He meets Jonathan's gaze again. "I'll do it," he finally says. "I'll take the Box to Everwinter and find Juno."

Jonathan beams. "Thank you, Jude," he says. "You may have just agreed to save the world. But you'll have to leave soon. Within the hour. I'll lead the Deacons on a false trail, keep them off of your tail. I'll meet you in Everwinter in a month. Don't worry, I'll stay as far as Juno as I can in the meantime."

Jonathan grasps the Box, picking it up and placing it
in Jude's reluctant hands. He grimaces as it touches his skin. Nothing happens this time, however. "Whatever happens, you can't let anyone else get a hold of this. The future of our race depends on it."

"Great," Jude huffs, accepting his fate. He's brought this on himself though.
 He knows there's a lot Jonathan's not telling him, but he doesn't push it.

He has no right to.

"One last thing," Jonathan says. "Take this."

Jude holds out his hand, taking what looks to be a shooting iron of some sort,
but with a barrel longer than any he's seen before.

"You'll probably need it
more than I will."

Jude nods, smiling. "See you in Everwinter," he says.

PART IV: EVERWINTER

57.

TRAVEL
ER, BEYOND LIES EVERWINTER

I read the sign again, studying it, amazed that it still stands.

When we’d first arrived in Everwinter, I’d never really paid much attention to it. Now I see that it's actually made of ancient sandal wood, cracked and splitting, looking ready to crumble to dust at any moment. The snow is piled high around it, but the sign itself is cleared out. Someone must come here every day and shovel it.

I still can't believe how much snow there is here.

I turn around, facing Altair. "Tell me how big this place is again."

Altair shrugs. "It hasn't gotten any smaller since the first time I told you," he retorts. I put my hands on my hips and scowl at him. He rolls his eyes. "The City of Everwinter is hundreds of kilometers long. This sign marks the border."

I scowl harder. "Convenient that you failed to mention how big it was
before
we got here," I say. "And how far do we still have to go to Ursa's lab?"

"A few days, maybe another week," Altair admits.

I curse at that.

We've been on the road for nearly three weeks since leaving Ativan's compound. We lost a day burying Glam
is when we passed the Grimms former roadblock. If any Grimms were left in the area, we didn't encounter them. We'd carried Glamis into the wastes and exhausted ourselves digging a hole into the half frozen soil. That had been a solemn, reflective day. We'd all said our goodbyes to Glamis privately. 

In the weeks that followed, the going
got steadily tougher. The snow increased. The temperature decreased. We'd scrounged up some warmer clothing from the Grimms camp though, which made the journey somewhat more bearable. Three weeks, and we finally came to the very sign I am now standing before, staring at it again. Exhausted from the journey, Altair suggested we take up residence at a nearby inn for a few days, recoup our strength. 

None of us argued.
 

Ursa and Traylor are back at the inn now
–a place called Winter's Solace–while Altair and myself are out on this walk. We'd been at the inn for a day already, but I find it stuffy and crowded. I'd needed to clear my head. Altair hadn't argued. We'd headed out together, along the same route we came in on, taking in the sights. Everwinter mutants stalk the streets around us. Amazingly, they pay us no mind. We're bundled head to toe, obscuring what we truly look like, but it's hardly a disguise. Everwinter mutants wear almost no clothing whatsoever. Instead, their bodies are coated in a sleek white fur that somehow keeps their bodies perfectly warm. Nobody would ever mistake us for one of them. But that doesn't seem to matter.

We're not the only
non
-Everwinter residents out here.

Other humanoids stalk the streets, bundled just as we are
–and at home here as much as the Everwinter mutants themselves. One human mutant passes us right now in fact, nodding then continuing on his way, only his blue eyes and a few large tumors exposed beneath his wrappings.

"I never knew," I say. "I still can't believe it."

"Few from Eversummer do," Altair replies as we turn around and head back into the city. "There's such a stigma and fear about Everwinter. Nobody would ever believe that
normal
humans have lived here nearly as long as the Everwinter mutants have. And in relative harmony."

"My mind is effectively blown," I say. It's impossible to keep my shock at bay. Above us, a million different lights twinkle, but they're not stars.

They're homes.

The city of Everwinter, massive though it i
s, is simply a series of gigantic snow mounds, dug out over the ruins of an ancient Forerunner city spanning hundreds of kilometers on this side of the world.

"It's true though," Altair continues. "After the final mutant war, hundreds of years ago, Everwinter had a choice to make. They
’d lost the war, their numbers decimated. They had to adapt or die. A truce was sought and, reluctantly, a few cities in Eversummer agreed to it. By that time, those cities were starting to get overcrowded anyway."

"Krakelyn sure as hells wasn't one of those cities," I interject.

"No," Altair shakes his head. "You are right about that. The religion of the True Body Plan was a result of the fear and hatred sown by the mutant wars, and had already taken root in most of Eversummer. Krakelyn was the center of that movement. A few of the southern cities remained more liberal though, agreeing to the truce. The terms were harsh though."

"Let me guess," I say, gesturing to the mounded snow around us. "Humans were allowed to move freely to Everwinter if they wished, but Everwinter mutants had to stay here, in exile."

Altair grins. "You've really been studying that book, haven't you?"

I shrug. "What else is there to do when you're on the road? Besides, the Forerunner Archives is probably the most important book in existence now. Couldn't hurt to know it cover to cover, right?" Altair laughs. "What?" I ask.

"Oh, nothing," he replies. "You're just halfway through Assassin training, that's all."

"Huh?"

Altair taps his skull. "We
all
have it memorized. It's a requirement of our training."

I'm genuinely surprised. "Really? Why? What does ancient history have to do with becoming a ruthless killer?"

Altair frowns. "Well, I don't exactly approve of the label of 'ruthless killer'," he smirks, "but that book is more important than you know, Juno. It reminds us of who we are, where we came from, and how we can avoid the mistakes of our predecessors."

"I guess," I say, unconvinced. "You know, you still haven't told me
where
exactly you Assassins come from. Navani told me there's a Guild, but I couldn't get it out of her where it is."

"It's very,
very
far from here," Altair says, reverting to his usual cold demeanor. 

"
That's what Navani said," I sigh. I gesture all around us. "How much further can you get though? If we keep going, eventually we're going to come back ‘round the world to Eversummer, right?"

"Right," Altair agrees. It's all he'll tell me though.

I huff and we continue on in silence for a time. 

We pass little shops and storefronts, huge holes dug through the snow providing access. A few have signs out front, stuck straight into the piled banks to indicate what the business is. Warm yellow light spills out from most of the holes, a comfort in the bleak eternal night of this place. I can't fathom why anyone would want to live here.

Not at all.

Altair tells me
there are Forerunner structures hidden under a lot of the snow mounds; even some of those massive towers that scrape the sky like the ones in the southern cities! I try to picture it as we walk, but find my imagination lacking. What I find even more astounding is that it wasn't always like this! The world used to spin, and it wasn't always snowy in Everwinter! What if the planet suddenly just decided to start spinning again? What Forerunner wonders would be revealed once the snow melted?

The thought makes me giddy.
 

Altair suddenly pulls me in close to him, a little rough. I'm about to protest, when I look down and see he's got his throwing stars in his hands. My heart hammers and I start to turn my head.

"Don't!" Altair whispers harshly. "We're being followed. Just play it cool. Pretend like nothing's amiss."

"Okay," I say, trying to relax. I probably look like I'm ready to flee screaming at any moment.

The street is fairly busy, mutants coming and going everywhere; I have to wonder if Altair is just being paranoid. There are a lot of people following us, but I’m sure most of them just happen to be going the same direction we are. Altair grips my arm and suddenly pulls us down an alley between snow mounds. It's darker than the street down here, the only light provided by a few dug out windows.

"Um, are you sure this is a good idea?" I ask. "We're kind of boxing ourselves in
–"

"Altair!" a voice cuts me off, husky but somehow familiar.

Altair curses, stopping our forward advance and turning around. Six dark shapes stand at the mouth of the alley.

Large, but not Everwinter mutant large.

They're men.

"How do you know that name?" Altair calls back, hands tensing around his throwing stars.
 

The men step forwa
rd, coming into the only available light from the windows. They're bundled head to toe just like we are. One of the men–the leader, I guess–nods to the others and they all reach up and lower their hoods, revealing their faces. They're mutated, just like everyone else in the world, faces covered in tumors and rashes.

T
here's something familiar about them though.

I step forward, Altair grabbing my arm.
 

"You're Deacons!" I accuse, pointing at the men. It'd taken me a moment to figure it out. I hadn't seen these people since before the Final Judgment
–and how they'd been changed by it.

"Good to see you again, Juno," the leader says. I can't remember his name. My
Father had so many Deacons, always coming and going, I never knew them all.

Hope grips my heart. "Did my
Father send you?" I ask, trying to keep my tone even. "Is he alive?"

The man grins. "We were hoping you could tell
us
that," he replies. "We've been trailing him since Krakelyn."

"My
Father is
here
?" I ask, skeptical. "In Everwinter?"

The man shrugs. "We don't know. Not that it matters now. We've found what we've been seeking." The man nods to his fellows and they all reach beneath their cloaks, pulling out shooting irons and blunt instruments.

"Make this easy on yourself, Juno," the man says. "Come with us quietly, and we won't hurt your friend here." He gestures to Altair.

I lau
gh. "If I were you, I'd be worried about
him
hurting
you.
"

The man scoffs. "Don't be foolish! Of course, we know who your friend is. Altair, the infamous Assassin! Did you know, Juno,
that your so-called friend is also the one responsible for causing the mutations?"

I shake my head. "No he's not! I
know
what caused the mutations."