Suture (The Bleeding Worlds) (8 page)

"Why now? Why wait? If you had been following the bloodline, why not try to revive it earlier?"

"How can I explain this to someone so young?" Zeus shrugged. "We became lazy. At first, we didn't know the prophecy existed. Many years passed before we became aware of it. When more years passed and none of the signs came, we began to believe it wouldn't happen. Or perhaps it had already happened on some other Earth that had branched away from our own."

"That happens?"

"Oh, yes. It is perhaps the greatest curse of any true prophet. Many, if not all, of their prophecies do come true, but not in every world. So while they are celebrated in one world for their foresight, in another they are ridiculed for their failure. When a prophecy is delivered, we can only wait to see if we will need to face it, or if we will be the lucky ones to avoid it. In the case of the final prophecy of Delphi, we believed we had avoided it."

"But we haven't."

Zeus nodded solemnly. "About ten years before your birth, the signs started. They've continued at a worrying frequency ever since. So what I'm hoping you can help me with, Gwynn, is I'm hoping maybe Sophia told you something that might help us."

"You think Sophia told me the final prophecy?"

"That was my hope."

Gwynn rubbed at his temples, searching for something Sophia might have said to him that would provide an answer. "I don't know," he had to admit. "The only times she told me things, they either sounded like gibberish because she was crazy, or they've already happened."

Zeus leaned forward, his eyes eager. "What did she tell you that already happened?"

"She told me about the Gorgon, and that I would be able to defeat Elaois. She told me what happened to my parents wasn't my fault."

"This is very important Gwynn. Did she tell you anything that either hasn't happened, or anything you can remember that just didn't make any sense? I mean, maybe it doesn't even seem like a prophecy. She might've just said something to you. Anything you can remember would help."

Gwynn tried to cast his memory back to the day in her hospital room, when she'd been a feral creature and her words sounded like nothing but madness. "She kept talking about a shadow behind me that hated her. And…" What else. She'd said something he should remember. Something Elaois… "Dragons. She said there were dragons for good and dragons for evil."

Zeus leaned back, stroking his beard. "That's all?"

"I'm pretty sure," Gwynn said. "At the time I… I just thought it was her saying crazy things. I didn't pay much attention." His heart felt heavy. What if she'd been telling him the most important things in the world? Had he missed it? Had she trusted him with her most important secrets and he'd just discarded them? He couldn't bear the thought.

"This does help," Zeus said. "It's not as much as I'd hoped, but I think I see some wisdom in this."

"You do?"

"Dragons exist in many myths. Sometimes they are agents of chaos, other times they bring good fortune. It mainly depends on the region. In any case, I believe her discussing a dragon, in particular a dragon of evil, refers to a certain man who has caused a great deal of conflict through the years. We've long believed he would be a key player in the end of times. We've thought him incapable of being stopped. If she mentioned a dragon of good, perhaps it means he has an equal. Maybe there is a way to defeat him."

"The bogeyman?" Gwynn said it under his breath.

Zeus' eyebrow raised. "You've heard of him?"

"Only a little. Some of the younger kids here, they…seemed afraid of me. I overheard one of them mention the bogeyman. A friend told me a little about him."

"That his sword is much like your own?"

"Yes. But I didn't know he was referred to as a dragon. Elaios, she said I was the dragon. She called me the Harbinger who signalled the coming of Ragnarok. My father left his family because she'd foretold he would have a son who would cause Ragnarok. She said I was that son."

Zeus patted Gwynn on the shoulder. "Perhaps you are the dragon of good your friend foretold would come."

"No. I don't think so. I'm not some person of legend or prophecy."

Zeus laughed. It was loud and unrestrained. "Oh my dear boy, even after seeing many prophecies come true, I doubt such a thing exists as a 'chosen one.' No, in my experience, a person just happens to be in the right place at the right time. The universe has a story it needs to tell, and roles need to be filled. It just casts whoever is most convenient at any given time."

"Can you tell me why my sword would respond to the same name as his? Why would it look the same? Pridament told me that isn't possible."

Zeus stood from the chair and made his way to the door. "I can't answer that. All I can tell you is this; nothing in this universe is impossible. I will also tell you your sword is summoned from your heart. A heart can change over time. There may come a time when your sword changes appearance, or ceases to answer to the call of its current name. Such is the fragile and transient nature of the human heart."

"If that happens, will I know what name to call?"

"Only if you can do what too many people fail at," Zeus said, walking out the door. "Listen to your heart."

There was no safer place in the world. Lying on a double bed, with Fuyuko's head resting against his shoulder, the warmth over his heart from her hand resting on his chest. Seventeen years old. He should be frustrated as hell. No sex, and none any time soon, she'd set those rules quickly. Maybe, if life became normal, this wouldn't always be enough to satisfy him. But life would probably never be normal. Every day would be waiting for the next life threatening moment—blood, pain and sometimes, loss. Right now, this calm was enough. No, not just enough, vital for his sanity.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Fuyuko said. She meant it this time. Even if Eir hadn't been able to restart her powers, being in her presence had helped calm her.

"You don't need to be sorry for wanting to keep me close. If anything, it'd be worse if you were telling me to go." He ran his finger along the gentle curve of her cheek down to her chin. Her features contained an element of nobility. In another life, perhaps she'd been an empress, sending her armies of faithful subjects off to war. Yes, she had those qualities, especially in the depth of her eyes. He knew he would follow her lead. He'd never admit it openly, but when she'd told him to refuse to go, it was only fear keeping him from agreeing. This was the only life he'd ever known. Probably the only he'd ever know. How could he refuse it? "Did you catch what Gwynn said about Angie?" he asked, trying to avoid talking any further about his leaving.

"Yes. Maybe we're just reading too much into it."

He could see from her eyes she didn't believe that.

"So I guess the question is, did she make the first move?" he asked.

"She's never entered any of our dreams without consent—Woten would kill her."

Jason shifted onto his side so he could look at her more directly. "So she's got it so bad for Gwynn she's willing to take the risk, or…"

"Or you think she's been given permission? I doubt it. I mean, he's Woten's grandson. I can't believe he'd allow that level of manipulation. Besides, he said he couldn't remember having any other dreams for the past eight months. It's not odd to have some nights without having dreams, but eight months? Do you think she's been blocking his dreams?"

"But why?" Jason started to regret bringing this up. He missed the quiet cuddling. "What reason would they have to block him from dreaming?"

"I don't know. If that was her mission, she might've overstepped her boundaries last night. Maybe that's why she's being left behind."

Jason shrugged. "Whatever. Angie's never been one for following the rules. Besides, with her ability, it's not like they'd do anything to her. She's too useful."

"I guess…"

Her gaze went far away. What could she be thinking?

"So how'd things go with Eir?" 

He'd try a new topic.

"No change." She gave his cheek a gentle pat. "Why do you keep changing subjects?"

Jason sighed and flopped on his back, staring at the blank white ceiling above him. "Because nothing gets us anywhere. We have no answers, no one else has any answers—or they keep the answers from us. I just feel…"

"Frustrated?"

"Yes," he smiled, "and maybe a little powerless."

"I'm the one who's powerless."

He couldn't tell if her tone contained any humour or not.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean…"

"It's ok. Besides, my session with Eir at least gave me something to focus on. We ended up talking about my brother. I realized I have unresolved issues about him. She thinks putting some of that behind me might help."

"Unresolved issues?"

"Yeah. You know, like how I kept pushing myself to be better than him."

Jason outright chuckled. "Geez, aren't we all pushing ourselves to be better than Katsuro?" The hurt in her eyes quieted his laughter. He said in a smaller, gentler, tone. "I mean, he inspired us. I looked up to him for the longest time. I guess in some ways, I still do. Katsuro set the standard for all of us."

Her voice barely broke a whisper. "Then why did he die?"

Jason put his arms around her. She felt thin and vulnerable. For so long he'd thought he clung to her for strength. It was odd to have their roles reversed. He hoped he wasn't screwing it up.

"I told you, it was on a mission. I'm not sure exactly what happened. I just know we were all pinned down by Curses. Paltar, Hodur and Katsuro punched through to close the tear." His voice shook. "Shortly after, the Curses vanished. Paltar and Hodur showed up, saying Katsuro had sealed the tear. But…" He couldn't finish the sentence.

"He didn't make it," she said.

Jason nodded. "Sometimes…" Should he say it? She knew how things worked.
 

"Sometimes, if the tear fights enough, it can burn a Script out," she said.

"Sometimes, yeah," he replied.

Was she thinking about Gwynn? Jason knew
he
was. The crazy kid who closed a world killer. If any tear in this world could fry a Script, that was the one. Instead, Gwynn shook it off after a few days. Gwynn was some kinds of scary powerful. How long until Woten replaced Jason with Gwynn? For almost two years, Jason had worked to fill Katsuro's shoes. He'd been the dedicated soldier and performed as flawlessly as he could. Within six months he held the unofficial title of team leader. The others respected him. Not just because he was a Script, but because he worked just as hard, no, maybe harder, than Katsuro. Fuyuko wasn't the only one living in her brother's shadow. The thought of losing it to Gwynn didn't bother him as much as it probably should. Maybe he could get knocked down to a secondary team like Purisaz. Would that be so bad? It would mean less dangerous missions. He might be able to consider it a guarantee he'd see his twentieth birthday. But he'd be the one staying behind while Fuyuko was sent on the worst of missions. No, this was his spot, and he'd do everything to keep it.

He looked at his watch.

"Crap, I've got to get going."

Fuyuko wrapped her arms around him and for a moment, it seemed her old strength had returned. She held him tight and he doubted he'd be able to wrestle free.

"I know you won't skip it," she said. "Just give me one more minute. Please."

He couldn't deny her. He'd just have to run all the way to the launch pad.

After the minute had passed, her grip loosened. "Promise me you'll come back."

He reached his hand up and gently cupped her chin, lifting her lips to meet his. How could he make that promise? Hadn't they just been talking about Katsuro dying? If Katsuro could fall, couldn't any one of them?

He looked into her eyes. The love and intensity he saw surprised him. He had no choice.

"I promise."

The main part of the Nord's Suture—training areas, mission monitoring, dorms—all lay buried underground in northern Ontario, Canada. The single way of getting in and out was a subway tunnel in which a train ran from Suture eastward to two stops. One lay beneath the town of Monday's Bay, where the vast majority of Suture's non-Anunnakis lived. To a visitor, the town was a sleepy sort of place with an independent grocer, small retail stores, and even a two screen theatre. It was doubtful anyone might realize the major economic supporter of the town was battling monsters. The second stop, where Ansuz would be headed, was a private airfield another ten kilometres east of the town. Several types of aircraft were housed there, including the private jet they would take today to their mission.

A small town, a big city subway line, and an underground secret organization bunker, all within eighteen kilometres of each other. It was this melding of such different worlds that always acted as the greatest shock to Gwynn's system. While in Suture itself, he could pretend only it existed. But walking from it into a subway station—pulled from his excursions with Jaimie to Toronto—felt jarring. Leaving the subway, expecting to find a large bustling city above, only to be confronted with a little town out of a painting felt wrong. Some of the others revelled in this. They loved the idea of secrets and the melding of worlds. Gwynn just couldn't wrap his head around it. Things had their place and needed to stay that way.

Most everyone arrived ahead of him. Only Jason had yet to arrive. As usual, none of the others seemed in a hurry to speak to him. He reflected on his conversation with Zeus. Maybe the old god was right, maybe they'd never accept him. Replaying other bits and pieces of the conversation—as he'd been doing for the past hour—he debated whether that talk had been more useful than grabbing another two hours of sleep. His stomach rumbled. Yeah, maybe food would've been useful too.

Another figure stood separate from the other members of Ansuz, Alesandra. He tried to stare in a not-so-obvious way. She had the same black hair as Adrastia, which wasn't proof, nor was her similar physique. But her eyes…her eyes had him convinced. Who else in the world could have jade green eyes sparkling like jewels even in dim lighting?