Broken Quill [2] (26 page)

“Declan Hale,” he said. “Once
Commander of the Cascade Fleet. Once Arbiter of the Knights Infernal. Now
shadowless, exiled... immortal.”

“Do I know you, hotshot?” I asked.

“I do,” Annie said, squinting at the
man with her hands on her hips.

That threw me for a second. “Eh...
you do? We’re a little far from home here, Annie.”

She stared at the man—my ailing
brother’s chosen voice piece. “You’re the Minister for Foreign Affairs,” she
said. “The
Australian
Minister for Foreign Affairs. Peter something...
Peter—”

“Drax,” he said. “Arbiter Peter
Drax. And you are?”

“Annie Brie. I’m a detective with
the WA Police.”

The council of lords and ladies,
Knights of varying power and respect, murmured angrily at that and cast me
disapproving frowns that could have possibly quelled me fifteen odd years ago.
Now I just wanted a drink.

Drax glared at me, positively
furious. “You involved local law enforcement in our affairs?” he hissed. “Even
you, Hale, should know better.”

“Get over it quick,” I said, “and
let’s get to the heart of all this nonsense. What’s happened to my brother? Why
was I expected? Why, for the love of Atlantis, have you
abandoned
True
Earth? Or are you going to pretend you don’t know about the demonic
fire-breathing madman running around Perth? He’s slaughtered dozens and maybe
hundreds by now.”

“Emissary,” Faraday breathed. He
pressed a hand against his wrinkled forehead as if the word pained him.

“Do not presume to lecture this
court, boy,” Drax said. “We’re not to be—”

Oh for the love of— “What? Taken
lightly? Trifled with? You are all very scary and powerful, but do not forget
who
you’re
talking to, Petey.”

“Gentlemen,” the pretty little thing
on my brother’s left said. I knew this woman from years ago, but her name
escaped me. “Shall we behave with a touch more decorum? We are standing in the
heart of human civilization, after all. The first and last bastion against the
Void.”

“Arbiter Delia,” I said, her name
popping into my mind, and gave her a respectful nod. “How lovely to see you
again. You’re well, I hope?”

“You were never one for triviality, Declan.”
Delia smiled at me—warmly—but her eyes settled on Tia. “Commander Moreau, I’m
sure you have quite the story to tell. We considered you long dead, my dear.”

Tia shrugged, and despite her early
bravado I sensed she was afraid—terribly so. “I may as well have been, Lady
Arbiter.”

“We shall talk after this council
concludes its business with Declan,” she said, making it a statement.

Fenton Creed, my brother’s right
hand man, stepped forward just to the left of the Dragon Throne. He squeezed
Faraday’s shoulder as he walked past the blackened throne. “Declan, you were
expected today, and we are quite aware what is happening in Perth. Emissary, a
servant of the Everlasting, if he’s to be believed, attacked the palace not one
week ago.”

“King Faraday,” Drax said, “bore the
brunt of his attack.”

I stared into the yellowed, broken
eyes of my brother. Only three months ago he’d been a picture of health and
strength. His thick cords of muscle had atrophied damn-near overnight, it seemed.
“Yeah, someone needs to explain that one to me.”

“We expected you,” Drax continued,
ignoring my demand, “as Emissary named you during his attack. He said you were
to be tested. Given recent events, Atlantis and your role in the death of
Morpheus Renegade, it was fair to assume you would seek the aid of the Knights
in defeating Emissary.”

“No,” I said. “That’s not why I’m
here. I’m here because Annie,” I put a hand on her slender shoulder, “has done
more to fight Emissary than the godforsaken guardians of the Story Thread. The
Knights are doing what, exactly? Cowering in this palace while Perth is under
attack? I’ve come to settle the account of those dead because you lot, in your
wisdom, have pulled the forces protecting True Earth.”

Drax scowled. “Now listen—”

“Broken quill,” I cursed, slamming
my fists together hard enough to rattle the bones in my hands. “What’s got all
your tails tucked firmly between your legs?”

“Emissary...” Faraday breathed, and
his frail voice carried well in the empty chamber. “Everlasting.”

“Yeah, we’ve established that much.
He’s a messenger of Blessed Scion.” Drax and Fenton shared a worried glance.
“What? You didn’t know that. Annie, do you have your phone? Can you bring up
the latest message Emissary left—thanks.”

“What’s this?” Delia asked.

“A snapshot of Emissary’s handiwork,
written in the blood of Perth’s unprotected. Listen closely.” I cleared my
throat and relayed the bloody poetry. “Blessed Scion on His pale throne. The
Younger God sits all alone. Ten thousand years awaiting rebirth. The
Everlasting will cleanse the Earth... Ominous, no?”

“He’s killing indiscriminately,”
Annie said, and the most powerful men and women in all the worlds gazed at her.
She hunched her shoulders under their stares but held her nerve. “I’m new to
all this... this...” She gestured widely with her hands. “But surely there is
something you people can do. Bullets don’t hurt him, and Declan—”

“Declan is, apart from one brief
appearance, five years out of the game,” I said, cutting Annie off before she
could reveal anything about my brand. The skin around the rune was itching as
though it were a demon’s curse. “This is your problem. This is the very
definition of your problem and of the Knights’ purview. What kind of shoddy
kingdom are you running here, Jon? Christ on a flaming stick!”

Faraday grinned and folded his hands
over in his lap. “Declan, Declan...” he rasped. “One of these days, you’ll
realize that your defiance is... is not only wrong but pointless. I am glad you
are here, brother. Instructor Marty, please see to a guard of three.”

Now that was almost too close to
sentiment,
I
thought as Marty bowed low and excused herself from the chamber. “You wanted me
here, it seems,” I said softly, taking a seat on the pew behind me. Tia and
Annie stepped back, leaving me center stage. “Here I am.”

“We’ve a task for you, if you are
willing,” Delia said, to frowns and scowls from the rest of the council. “Oh
come now, none of you were willing to swallow your pride and ask him, were you?
Not after you’ve spent five years quashing those still loyal to his banner.”

“I have a banner…?” I muttered.
“What task?”

“Why, destroy Emissary and his
master, of course,” Delia said, and her tone made it sound as though I might
stroll to the corner shop for a pint of milk. “That is, if the creature is not
simply acting alone. We’ve yet to see any sort of involvement from the
Everlasting. Indeed, apart from your reports after Atlantis, Declan, and the
sheer power of the Degradation, of course, no one alive—save you—has ever had
dealings with the Everlasting.”

“Are you saying you don’t believe in
the Old Gods?” I asked wryly. “Oh, carry on my wayward sons...”

“Some believe the Degradation could
have been your devising, using the Roseblade,” Fenton mused. “That, at least, was
confirmed to exist. And is now in the hands of the Renegade queen.”

“How does the old rhyme go?” I
asked. “
Lord Oblivion with eyes of blood, the malice of the Void in flood.
Well, it doesn’t do the bastard justice by half. I met him. I fought him. He slaughtered
Tal Levy and tore my shadow away, exacting a price to end the Tome Wars. You’re
welcome for that, by the way.”

“We’re getting off track here,” Drax
said. “Hale, do you accept the task of this council? Eliminate the threat
represented by Emissary, whatever he truly is, and we’ll see to it that the
punishment of your past crimes will be... revisited.”

That sparked a glimmer of curiosity
in my soul. “Can you dumb this all down a little?”

Drax sighed—with no small measure of
theatricality. “Save the day, Hale, and all will be forgiven. Your titles
restored along with your place among the Knights.”

Faraday grunted what could have been
a very non-committal agreement. I licked my lips, tasting the weight of the
offer and a salty-sweet glimpse of the staggering, unfathomable opportunity. To
return to Ascension... to have free reign across Forget once again under the
banner of the Knights Infernal was, perhaps, the most tantalizing offer they
could have made me.

But I wasn’t so much of a fool just
to take their word on it.

“An official royal pardon,” Drax
said, perhaps reading my mind or following the train of thought on my face.
“Signed and sealed by this council, and proclaimed across the United Worlds,
upon completion of the task set before you.”

That was about as good an offer as I
could expect. A royal writ, signed by the ruling order, would sway the vast
majority of Forget that I’d been pardoned of my crimes—of Atlantis and the
Degradation. It was no small thing what they were asking of me, but I was going
after Emissary anyway.

I’d need a spot of healing, before
anything else. My eye—and the restrictive brand on my arm. Best I tried to find
my own solution to that, before revealing I was about as powerful as a gnat
against the windshield.

“I’ll...” I began slowly, playing
each and every angle that I could see over in my mind. “I’ll take the day to
think about this offer.”

Drax nodded as if he expected no
less. “We reconvene at ninth bell. You are free to roam the public areas of the
palace until then. A guard of three Sentinels will be assigned to make sure you
don’t... wander or find yourself in deeper waters, Hale.”

“I’d stay away from the city,
Declan,” Delia said, a hint of warning lacing her words. “Word of your return
will already be spreading, no doubt. Your presence in the streets could incite
a riot, given the current war footing we find ourselves on.”

I gave them a quick salute. “Sure,
I’ll keep to the palace. I want to know more about the mobilization of the
Cascade Fleet, however. Is it just Emissary that has you so afraid? What else
is going on?”

Delia opened her mouth, but Drax cut
her off. “You’ve been told what you need to know, boy. The broader aspects of
our policy are not part of your current purview. That may change, pending your
agreement to our deal.”

“No, I’m just your guided missile,
right?” I shoved my hands into my pockets and sighed. “Benched me for five
years until you needed something blown on up.” None of them said anything, and
I sensed that I’d tried their patience enough for one afternoon. With a quick
glance at Tia and Annie, I stood up and clapped my hands together. “Right,
ninth bell. See you then.”

I turned on my heel, followed by
Annie and Tia. Before we could exit the grand chamber, soft footsteps on the
marble made me turn back, to Arbiter Delia, her lips very red and the sprinkle
of grey in her dark hair making her seem far older than her forty years. During
the Tome Wars, she’d been a thorn in the side of the Renegades. Her tactical
mind and battle savvy had devastated entire legions. Yes, a thorn as much as
any of us, save perhaps my good self.

“I hope you enjoy a day in the
palace, Declan,” Delia said. “I’m sure you miss these old halls. Your
companions, Sophie Levy and an unfound boy, who arrived via the Lexicon not two
days ago, are currently at the Academy.”

“Sophie and Ethan!” I slapped my
brow. “Of course. The Academy, you say?”

“Sitting in on a few lessons, I’m
told. The boy has some potential, and Miss Levy would not leave his side.”

“No, they’re two peas in a pod.”
That was a bit of good news. With all that had been happening, the loss of an
eye least of all, the fate of my two closest friends had slipped my mind. I
needed to be better than that.

“I don’t want to push your decision
either way,” Delia said, briefly squeezing my hand, “but if anyone can deal
with the threat of Emissary, I believe you can.”

Yeah, but I’ve been neutered...
“What’s he got over you, Delia?” I
asked. “Why have you abandoned True Earth?”

“We’ll speak further this evening.
Tia, my dear, could I have five minutes of your time?”

Tia glanced at me, and I raised an
eyebrow. “Go on,” she said. “Meet me at Edgar’s for dinner?”

Edgar’s—an old favorite. “You got
it, Miss Moreau. Annie, shall we?”

“See you later, Tia.”

“Make sure this one stays out of
trouble,” she said.

My promised guard of three Knightly
Sentinels was waiting in the corridor outside of the Throne Room. Hands on the
hilts of their Infernal weapons, dressed in light, grey battle armor, I
recognized all three of the men and laughed.

“Well, well, well... Garner, Dessan,
and Vrail.” I nodded to each of them in turn. All of them friends from
Instructor Marty’s classes back at the Academy, all of them roughly my age.
We’d grown up together, warred together, lost friends together. “Who’d you piss
off to pull this duty?”