The Seven

She has barely had time to register the kiss or enjoy it before he is pulling away.

They study each other, noticing the little changes. She has grown as tall as him but seems taller, standing straight where he slumps. His eyes are as sharp as ever but there are smudges underneath, hinting at sleepless nights. A good diet has softened his features, save for his smile which remains feral.

Looking at his face, she cannot tell if that smile is aggressive or not.

Before either of them can speak, another voice interjects. ‘Vesper, is that you?’

Her Uncle Harm is reaching out for her, tentative. She takes his questing hand in both of hers and squeezes. ‘It’s me.’

They embrace, and Harm’s fingertips move up to her face, skimming over cheeks, the bridge of her nose and her forehead. He nods, content. ‘No new scars. That’s a good sign.’

‘I could say the same to you.’

He chuckles. ‘It’s good to have you home.’

Of all of them, Harm has changed the least. A few extra laughter lines, a couple of grey hairs. Taking comfort from that, Vesper turns to her father and the little girl standing next to him.

She looks down.

A small face is staring back up at her.

Dark curly hair frames sullen eyes and downturned lips. The girl’s skin is darker than hers but lighter than Jem’s. The swirling lines that cover her body have become more pronounced in the intervening years, not less as Vesper had hoped. This is why her daughter has been kept away from the Shining City. The people of the Empire of the Winged Eye are not ready to deal with such obvious signs of the taint, however slight. Inwardly, she swears that will change in her lifetime.

The girl glances up to Vesper’s father, nervous.

‘Hello, Reela,’ says Vesper. ‘It’s me, your mother. I’m back.’

There is a pause. Her father gives a reassuring nod to the little girl before gently nudging her towards Vesper.

Vesper goes down on one knee and opens her arms. ‘It’s okay, I won’t bite.’

The girl comes forward and accepts her mother’s hug. Vesper wonders if perhaps things will not be as bad as she feared.

They all flinch when Reela screams. Ducking under Vesper’s arms, she runs past, the scream bouncing up the stairs until it is silenced by the slam of an upstairs door.

For several minutes, Vesper talks, banishing the rejection of her child with talk of bigger things. Increasingly, her arms wave with enthusiasm. Three men sit round the table, listening: her father, her uncle and her lover.

Reela remains upstairs. From time to time she can be heard jumping around her room and squealing. The sound of boards creaking and high-pitched laughter grow steadily louder.

Vesper tries to ignore it but her right eyelid twitches in time with each new interruption.

‘And,’ Vesper concludes, ‘it means we’ll have a place to meet and solve problems, but more than that, we’ll be creating another way to live, where we talk first instead of fighting.’ Another bang from above makes Vesper wince. ‘Where children like Reela can grow up without knowing fear.’ She pauses but nobody speaks. ‘Well, what do you think?’

She looks at each of their faces. Harm’s is a delicate balance, support laced with concern. Her father looks down at the table, frowning. Jem just looks angry.

Several thuds and a shriek from the heavens do little to break the tension.

Harm leans forward, his voice soft. ‘I think it’s very brave what you’re trying to do.’

‘But?’

‘But I’m not sure the Empire is ready. Have you thought about how it might hurt Reela?’

Vesper shakes her head. ‘I’m doing it for Reela and all the others like her. She shouldn’t have to hide in the shadows because the Empire is too small-minded to deal with change!’

‘I agree but you risk making her into a target.’

‘But when you came to the Shining City, Uncle, you didn’t hide.’

Harm smiles sadly. ‘That’s true but I came of my own free will and I knew the risks. And I wasn’t accepted until I’d been purged of taint, and even that is conditional on me living out here.’

‘It shouldn’t be that way. I’m going to put it right.’

‘The people of the Empire have followed you this far because you’ve moved slowly but if you start to directly contradict The Seven’s law … Well, it could end badly for all of us.’

An awkward silence descends. Vesper’s father continues to frown at the tabletop.

‘We saw the cube rising,’ Jem says. ‘Did The Seven do anything?’

‘No. They just flew off, into space maybe? I don’t know, and to be honest, I don’t care. We’ve waited for Them long enough already.’

‘What are you going to do now?’

She looks at him, puzzled. ‘Exactly what I was going to do before. If The Seven decide to make things better, maybe I’ll come back and live here. Until then, the Empire needs us.’

Jem swallows. ‘But … aren’t you afraid?’

She closes the gap between them and takes one of his hands in hers. ‘Of course I’m afraid. But it isn’t going to stop me.’

‘Us,’ adds Harm. ‘It isn’t going to stop us. We’re in this together. A family.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Actually, it’s a relief. I don’t think my plan’s going to work without you.’

Harm smiles. ‘This sounds ominous.’

She smiles back. ‘I want you to guide the people here, the way you guided me.’

‘I’m no instructor.’

‘No, and I don’t want one. I want someone that can tell them about life across the sea. And, I want you to help them get the idea that not all infernals are the same. That’s what I tried to tell them in my speech but I don’t think they understand. It’s too big.’

Harm nods slowly. ‘It won’t be easy but I have a few ideas. Perhaps I’ll tell them some of my old stories.’

‘Yes, tell them about the city of Verdigris and about Tough Call.’

‘Alright.’

‘Oh, and you have to tell them about the Usurperkin there and how they’re part of the city.’

‘I will.’

‘And I think –’

Harm laughs and Vesper swiftly joins him. And then the two of them are recalling old times, trading names back and forth, swept up in the excitement. Vesper doesn’t notice Jem slipping to the back of the kitchen to make himself a strong drink. Her father does with narrowing eyes.

‘And don’t worry about Reela,’ adds Harm. ‘She’s not usually this bad.’

‘I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.’

‘She’ll come round.’

‘Was I … like her? You can be honest.’

Harm shakes his head. ‘No, you were easier. But don’t worry, she’ll get through it. I think she just misses you.’

‘She’s got a funny way of showing it.’

‘Love can make people behave in very odd ways.’ He coughs, polite. ‘I can’t imagine where Reela gets it from.’

Jem clears his throat, the glass in his hand already half empty. ‘When are you leaving us?’

‘Soon.’

‘And how long will you be gone this time?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘A month? Six months?’ His lower lip curls down as he speaks, ‘A year? Another five years?’

‘I told you, I don’t know.’

‘Harm’s right, you’re going to put us in danger. The Shining City hates us.’

‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘Is that why the Lenses spy on us? They’re probably listening in right now.’

‘The Lenses have a whole world to monitor. They barely know you exist!’

Jem drains his glass, gets up. ‘Sounds familiar.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Nowhere. If you change your mind, you’re welcome to join me.’

Vesper blinks back tears. ‘I have to do this, don’t you understand?’

‘Yes,’ replies Jem, bitter. ‘I do.’ He walks out of the kitchen. Shortly afterwards the front door slams.

The rhythmic bouncing from upstairs is interrupted by a loud thud, a brief pause, and then crying, shrill and persistent.

Vesper’s father glances towards the sound, then looks at Vesper.

She buries her face in her hands. ‘Not now … I can’t.’

With a sigh, her father rises. He touches Harm’s arm briefly, walks around the table to rest a hand on Vesper’s shoulder, then leaves.

They hear footsteps on creaky stairs, a door opening and closing. The crying becomes muffled, begins to move slowly from left to right above them. Gradually, it subsides.

Harm speaks into the quiet. ‘Why don’t you go up and see her? She misses you.’

‘Alright. Then I need to talk to Jem while there are no other distractions. There are things I need to say, in private.’

‘Good luck.’

She starts to head upstairs, giving Harm a grim nod. ‘Thanks.’

Somehow dealing with her daughter is more exhausting than managing an empire. Handing Reela back to her father and leaving the house is a relief.

She finds Jem standing by the base of the hill, looking out towards the Shining City, reminding her of when she used to do the same.

‘Here goes,’ she murmurs to the sword, strolling down until she stands alongside him. ‘Hi. Mind if I join you?’

He shrugs, sullen.

‘Look,’ she says, taking the sword from off her shoulder and laying it down. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been around.’

A guilty look crosses his face and he seems to deflate. ‘Ah Vesp, I’m sorry for what I said in there. Ever since we got word you’d returned to the Shining City I’ve been waiting for you to come back, and at the end of each day I couldn’t understand why you hadn’t. I’d tell myself that you’d be coming tomorrow, or the day after, and look forward to us being close again. Believe it or not I’ve been excited. I even had plans for some nice things that we could do together.

‘And then when you did show, you started talking about leaving barely five minutes after you arrived. Another long trip overseas … I just couldn’t believe it. That’s when I lost my temper.’ He gives her a lopsided smile. ‘But I suppose you’ve worked out that last bit already.’

She matches his expression. ‘I had a bit of an inkling.’

‘You know, the last thing I wanted was to push you away again.’

‘I do. That’s why I’m here.’ He nods, the last of the tension ebbing from his stance. ‘Would you like to start again?’ she asks. ‘Pretend I’ve just got back?’

‘Please.’

They talk, fingers occasionally touching, tentative, negotiating the bad feelings to find their way to the good. By the time the suns are setting, the conversation flows more easily. Inevitably, it becomes nostalgic, returning to their early days together. There is laughter, genuine, and when it passes, an earnestness in Jem’s eyes.

‘I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you too.’

‘I hate to sour things,’ says Jem, ‘but I need to talk to you about Reela.’

‘Okay. She was tough today. Was she always this noisy?’

‘Yes. But it’s not her fault, it’s your father’s.’

‘How is it his fault?’

‘For one thing, he treats her too much, and for another, he lets her get away with murder. If she breaks something, or is naughty and I’m telling her off, he just picks her up and gives her a cuddle. It completely undermines me. And he gives me one of those looks, you know the ones?’

She sighs. ‘I know the ones.’

‘As if I’m the one that’s done something wrong.’

‘Have you tried talking to Uncle Harm?’

‘Yes, but he’s just as bad as your father. Most of the time he finds Reela’s behaviour funny. They’re getting her into bad habits and stopping me from sorting it out.’

‘I’ll talk to them before I go, okay?’

‘Okay. Thank you. Look, it’s getting dark. We should probably get back inside.’

‘Let’s just stay out here a bit longer.’

‘It’s getting cold.’

She takes his hands in hers. ‘But I’m warm, remember?’

A different kind of glint appears in Jem’s eye. ‘I think so, but it’s been a while. I’m going to need some serious reminding.’

Vesper steps in close, sliding her hands around his waist, kissing him. His nose is like a lump of ice against her cheek, his hands startling on her hips.

She kisses him again, pulling him more firmly to her.

It turns out that Jem does not need much reminding at all. In fact, his memory is very good on the subject. Despite this or perhaps because of it, they stay out long after the suns have set.

CHAPTER TWO

Vesper leaves the next day. Her father watches her march towards the coast with the buck and her personal guard of Seraph Knights, the Order of the Broken Blades. Each member is devoted to Vesper, owing her a personal debt. Their armour glints in the sunslight, pride adding crispness to their movements.

When they are nothing more than a spot on the horizon, he remains, and when that spot has vanished entirely, he remains.

Finally, when even that memory of it has undeniably gone, he sighs and turns back towards home.

Business resumes in the Shining City, each denizen returning to their appointed tasks. But something has changed, excitement infusing even the simplest of actions. The twin statues of Duet that stand either side of the southern road are cleaned. The gardens that curl, unkempt, around the great platinum pillars are cut back. Buttons are polished an extra time, bodies held slightly straighter, a mix of worry and excitement fuelling the drive towards perfection.

Without anyone explicitly arranging anything, the choirs of children meet for additional devotion sessions. When squires train, they lament their mistakes far more, and the knight instructors punish them all the harder.

In quiet industry and whispered speculation, a few days pass.

Like most of the citizens of the Shining City, the Knight Commander spends his spare moments looking up at the sky. Sometimes, at night, he thinks he sees the Sanctum of The Seven, a new star glimmering in the heavens. With the Bearer of Gamma’s sword abroad, and Obeisance in silent meditation, out of his reach, it is up to him to prepare the Empire for whatever is coming next.

And there is an undeniable sense that a change is coming. He likes to think that the return of The Seven is a reward for their good work, that finally he and his people are worthy to receive the blessings of their immortal guardians again. He does his best to ensure that worthiness, exhorting his people to work harder, to be better, than they ever have before. Each day, the Shining City behaves as if it were on parade, its citizens outfitted in their best, moving purposefully through corridors that gleam. Every corner is scoured, every piece of equipment cleaned, and any inhabitant that does not come up to the Knight Commander’s high standards is given tasks that keep them out of sight.

When the call finally comes, he is prepared, his armour finely polished, and a score of officers are on standby to be given the word, whatever word that will be.

The familiar form of Obeisance is projected in front of him, lines of light describing her shape. Despite the magnitude of the occasion, she does not seem any different, but then he does not expect her to. Obeisance communes with The Seven daily, her life a string of abnormal events threaded together by brief periods of sleep. Their wonder is her mundanity.

‘Knight Commander.’

He salutes. ‘Obeisance.’

‘Do not look so solemn, old friend. Rejoice. For we live in glorious times. The Seven have spoken, Their light shines upon us again, and we have been chosen as the instruments of deliverance.’

‘How can I serve?’

‘You are to gather the fleet for Their pleasure and prepare Alpha’s sky palace for travel. Have them assemble on the southern coast, at Greyspot Three.’

‘If I may, Obeisance, Greyspot Three is a civilian port with a troubled history. Skylanding would much more suitable for such a historic occasion.’

She does not reply immediately and he wonders if she is considering his words or if there is interference.

‘You misunderstand, Knight Commander. You are being given an order, not a recommendation. In any case the sanctum has begun its descent, and Alpha has already taken wing. He is on His way to you as we speak. I trust everything will be ready when He arrives.’

‘He’s coming here? Now? I don’t see how –’

But her image has already winked out. Cursing, the Knight Commander blinks the flickering afterglow from his eyes and starts barking orders.

Minutes later the Knight Commander is standing at the base of the silver steps. Somewhere high above is the Sanctum of The Seven, and in the space between them, diving through the ether, is Alpha.

He has had to run to get here, and beneath his armour the Knight Commander is sweating. Behind him a row of Seraph Knights have formed up, hastily, several rows of soldiers rushing into position at their backs. He hears the last stamp of boots, the snap of people standing to attention. Then silence.

They all stand in perfect formation, watching the sky for the first sign of Alpha’s arrival.

Though his body is still, the Knight Commander’s mouth continues to move, organizing, giving orders via comms link, coordinating the fleet. To meet Alpha’s needs he has taken from all over the Empire, stripping the coast and the nearby colonies of protection.

He checks in to see if Vesper’s father, the Champion, remains in the Shining City but he has already left, on foot. The Knight Commander shakes his head at the bizarre custom. The Champion has not gone far, is only just reaching the gates but he does not call him back. This is to be a historic moment, and he has no wish to share it.

With magnification from his visor, he makes out a speck directly above, growing quickly, and his heart starts to pump faster. Despite the fact he is standing still, he continues to sweat.

In the scant time that remains the Knight Commander considers what kind of greeting would be appropriate, and how best he can appear both humble and strong at the same time.

Meanwhile, Alpha continues to dive.

Thoughts flicker, disjointed, through the Knight Commander’s mind.

Perhaps I should have summoned Alpha’s sky palace here instead of sending it to Greyspot Three.

Would it be better to sing in honour of Alpha’s arrival or remain silent?

Is it odd that I have not called the citizens here to greet Him? Surely it is better to have a small, perfectly formed greeting, than a great, ugly one. There were too many to organize in the time. This is better. I’m sure this is better.

A song would be more appropriate, I think. Yes, a song would be best, and I should lead it. The image of him singing, his knights a supporting chorus, is pleasing. It seems right. But which song? He wonders.

Alpha is close now, wings drawn tight to his sides. The Knight Commander takes a breath, still unsure which note to begin with.

He’s coming in awfully fast. A nagging sensation begins to build in the Knight Commander’s stomach, a sense that something is wrong. He’s not going to stop. He’s going to crash into us. Is this some kind of test? A test of our resolve?

He can almost hear Obeisance admonishing him for trying to predict the actions of The Seven. If Alpha were a sky-ship or even a bird, then perhaps there would be a danger of him not slowing down in time. He is far beyond either of those things, far beyond anything the Knight Commander can imagine. Shaking the doubt from his mind, letting the awe grow within him, the Knight Commander begins to sing.

Flawlessly, as if rehearsed, the knights join in.

Alpha continues to dive, to accelerate.

He’s not going to stop! He’s not going to stop!

Ignoring the growing terror, the Knight Commander continues to sing, clinging to his faith.

And at the last, Alpha’s silver wings unfurl, and he moves from dive to glide, cutting over their heads, cutting through their song, silencing, and carrying on, leaving the Knight Commander and his followers behind.

On instinct, they have all turned to watch the immortal’s progress, a line of confused faces.

‘Sir?’ asks one of the knights, an irritating quake in her voice. ‘What does this mean, sir?’

A good question, he thinks. What does it mean? ‘Get me airborne!’ he shouts. ‘Where He goes, we follow.’

The journey to the landing pillar takes too long. The capsules that spirit them up to the pillar’s top take too long. The Knight Commander can feel Alpha moving further and further away. He berates himself for not having predicted this. What a fool he was to imagine that The Seven would care for welcomes or parades. They are above such things. Alpha must have come ahead of his brothers and sisters for a reason, to do something glorious for the good of the Empire. And while the Knight Commander cannot guess what that is, he is determined to be a part of it.

Only a handful of Seraph Knights fit into the hold of the sky-ship with him, the rest forced into land vehicles.

They race south, over neatly ordered hillsides and lines of trees, tall and straight, that look like points on a grid when viewed from above.

Reports of Alpha’s progress come in fits and starts. Brief sightings reported in terms of wonder directly into the Knight Commander’s ear. The immortal is flying in a straight line, but when his course is plotted on a map, the Knight Commander is surprised to find it is not taking them directly to Greyspot Three.

A call comes through from one of his soldiers. ‘Report.’

‘He’s here, sir. I can see Him!’

The Knight Commander confirms the soldier’s location. A small village known as Diligence to its inhabitants. There is little to recommend it. In fact the place is not connected to any major settlements, forcing traders to walk hard paths to get there. A backwater, mostly forgotten.

Could Alpha remember it as something more? Is this a site of significance that we have unwittingly neglected?

He turns his attention back to the soldier. ‘What is Alpha doing now?’

‘Circling, sir.’

‘Just circling?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then hold your position. We’ll be there shortly. Keep me informed if there are any changes.’

‘He’s seen something, sir. He’s … diving.’

The soldier sets a flare off from his position, and the sky-ship zooms in on it. Diligence is a grim and rocky place. The power stations and main gathering areas are built under the earth, along with half of the housing, but it has grown over the years, simple extensions jutting directly from the walls. None of these extensions appear to be to standard and the number of them indicates a much higher population than is currently registered.

Even without the flare to guide them in, it is easy to see where Alpha has landed. A circle of charred grass surrounds a new hole in the ground, a new entrance to Diligence’s underground network of tunnels.

They set down, leaping from the hatch the moment the sky-ship has settled, and rush toward the hole. The footing is unsteady near the edge, and more than one knight wobbles, graceless, as they try to stay upright.

Around them the air feels charged and angry, making it hard to breathe.

Suddenly nervous of what he will see, the Knight Com-mander peers over the edge. Below he sees Alpha of The Seven, his sword drawn, shimmering as the echoes of song slowly fade.

At the immortal’s silver feet is a smear of ash, making the loose shape of a body.

Alpha holds up his other hand. In it is a visor, black, featureless. The Knight Commander has seen pictures of it before. It is the kind of armour preferred by the First, largest and most powerful of the remaining infernals.

He finds his eyes drawn to Alpha’s. Their blue is like a second sky, a better horizon. When Alpha speaks, each word strikes deep, a hammer to his chest.

‘Diligence is tainted.’

‘We will evacuate the town at once, destroy it, cleanse the ground, and send the inhabitants to the purging centres.’