Convergence Page 11

  Charlie sighed. “I guess he thinks so.”

  They’d reached the smaller tent. A shared glance meant the conversation about Adam and Gena had reached what resolution they could reach. They moved inside the tent.

  They found hundreds of members of the Alliance there, as expected. The fighters were stretching, bouncing on their feet, practicing moves with swords learned from the videos Hope Stark had produced during the time she’d been called the Shadow. Angel and Charlie separated, moving among the fighters, careful to avoid whirling blades and forceful air punches, asking if anyone needed anything.

  It was all an expenditure of nervous energy. They were passing the time until they received word that it was time to go to Headquarters Island.

  Angel wanted to join them.

  The idea that her parents and brother would be there on Headquarters Island, fighting literally to the death—she swallowed hard at the thought—while she remained safe on Eden was maddening. She’d still not seen her mother restored to full health. Hope had gone from Eden to Headquarters Island to set up the initial defensive technology. She’d only see her mother after it all ended. But only if…

  She tried to ignore the lump in her throat. There were no guaranteed reunions now.

  She walked toward a young woman dressed in black. She wore her dark hair to the shoulder, and had piercing, ice blue eyes that revealed a deep level of concentration. Her face was tight. Her Energy sang to Angel, a strong signal identifying this young woman as one who’d be a formidable fighting force. Her movements with the sword were graceful. Angel sensed in her preparation a deeper motivation. Everyone here wanted the Aliomenti threat ended, but few truly wanted to fight to the death, to actually kill anyone with the Aliomenti in pursuit of that goal. The plan heavily focused on Will, Fil, and Hope working to end the threat of Arthur, the Hunters, and the Assassins and limiting the actual need for direct, deadly combat. This young woman wanted blood, and though her thoughts didn’t betray a name, Angel sensed that desire was focused on a single member of the Elites.

  She’d not get the chance if the three Starks on the Island succeeded in their efforts. If Will, Hope, and Fil failed, they’d send the soldiers here to Headquarters. With Athos trapped in the Cavern indefinitely, and with Ashley’s virus preventing an electronic call out for off-Island reinforcements, they’d be able to use their generally stronger Energy skills and their nanos to achieve victory.

  Preferably without casualties. On either side.

  The young woman noticed Angel and halted her exercises and warm up, wiping the sweat from her brow. Angel could smell the salty scent, and wondered why it seemed oddly familiar. “Hi. Are you ready to go to the Island?” There was a fierce intensity to the icy blue gaze that left Angel unnerved.

  She nodded. “Eventually. I have to handle some housekeeping duties here first.” She paused, trying to understand something. “You look… familiar. Do I know you?”

  The young woman in black nodded. “We’ve met before.” She cocked her head. “Don’t you remember me?”

  Angel searched her memory. “Perhaps it’s been a while. Have you been Outside a lot?”

  The young woman laughed. “You could say that. I’ve been Outside without exception for many years.”

  Angel nodded. “That might be why I can’t place you.” She extended her hand. “I’m Angel, by the way.”

  The young woman took her hand, but Charlie’s rapid approach interrupted her reply. “Angel! It sounds like—” He paused, glancing between the two women, realizing he’d interrupted an in-progress conversation. “Sorry, I just… I’d gotten some news I’d wanted to share with you.”

  The young woman glanced at Charlie and nodded, releasing Angel’s hand. “I should probably leave, then.” She nodded a polite glance and moved away, looking for an opening of sufficient size to resume her practice.

  Charlie watched her go, puzzled. “Who is she? She seems familiar, but I can’t place her.”

  “I didn’t get her name, but I had the same reaction. I feel like I should know who she is, but I can’t figure it out.” Angel frowned before glancing back at Charlie. “What was the news?”

  “Fil’s in the Leader’s room and your mother’s entered the fray as well. We need to get people prepared. It won’t be long now.”

  Angel nodded, feeling her pulse racing. Everything was moving rapidly and according to plan, but she couldn’t help but worry about Fil and her mother. There weren’t two people in the world better equipped to protect themselves, but she couldn’t prevent the worry.

  She distracted herself from gloomy visions of their fates by scanning the crowd. “I’d like to find her again and figure out who she is. I really feel like I should know who she is. She certainly knew who I was. It’s strange, too. I’m usually very good at remembering names and faces.”

  “Has she been Outside a lot?”

  “She said she’d been Outside exclusively for quite some time, which could certainly explain why I’m struggling. For us, a long time could mean a century or longer. It’s not difficult to forget someone after that much time. And—”

  Angel broke off, staring past Charlie as her breath caught in her throat. “Charlie.” Her voice was a mere whisper, and her face grew pale and her limbs stiffened. “I think I know who she is, now.”

  Charlie turned to see what had captured Angel’s attention.

  The woman standing before them smiled.

  Charlie’s jaw fell toward the floor of the tent.

  XVII

  ARTHUR’S FACE SCRUNCHED INTO AN inscrutable mask of emotion. The tension filled the room, raising the temperature by several degrees. The guards and Assassin remained motionless, waiting for word from Arthur before attacking. But there could be little doubt that confusion reigned at the bizarre reaction of the man they knew as the most powerful in the world.

  They had no idea who the strange woman might be, no idea how she’d gotten to this level of Headquarters, and no idea why she might be there.

  Porthos’ eyes showed once more that he was measuring the reactions of those in the room against new facts, and a slow look of realization crossed his face.

  Fil suffered no confusion, no need to rationalize facts to know who she was. He marveled at the change in his mother. When he’d last seen her, she’d looked every bit her thousand years of age: sagging, yellowing, papery skin with purpling veins standing out, her hair and teeth gone, her eyes lacking any sign of vitality. The woman before him now, though, was the mother he’d known in his childhood. Her blue eyes flashed with Energy, her golden blond hair billowed to her shoulders, her skin all but crackled with health and life.

  Her flashing eyes of anger switched from Arthur to her son, and her face softened as her mouth curled into a loving smile.

  Fil longed to run to her and embrace her, to be held by her, but he knew—as did she—that the situation now prevented such an interaction. With a patience built over two centuries of living through major life calamities, he offered a gentle nod and a warm smile. “You’re looking well, Mom.” The corner of his mouth twitched up. “Definitely looking more like thirty again.”

  Hope smiled. “You make your mother proud, Fil.” He could see the happiness in her eyes at his comment, as she remembered how he’d needed to joke that she “didn’t look a day over five hundred” when he’d last seen her. She turned back toward Arthur, and all sense of gentility vanished from her. “I see you’ve had the great misfortune of finally meeting your grandfather.”

  The guards and human prisoners didn’t react. Porthos, though, glanced at the Leader. Arthur, still on the ground, stared at Hope, slack-jawed. He stiffened at the use of the word “grandfather.”

  Porthos’ face turned triumphant as he nodded, pleased. He’d clearly figured out the relationship before its pronouncement.

  Fil glared at Arthur as well. “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that you took after your mother. He’s not much of a host.”

  Arthur seize
d Porthos’ arm and nearly pulled the Hunter to the ground. Porthos braced himself, and Arthur staggered to his feet, never blinking, his eyes never leaving Hope. He finally spoke, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  Hope laughed derisively. “Can’t believe I’m here? Or are you disappointed that I’m here? Of course, when we last saw each other at a distance like this, you’d just set forty of your closest friends to the task of beating me to death. I have to believe it’s disappointment, not disbelief, Daddy. You’ll just have to do better the next time.” Her eyes narrowed. “Not that there will be a next time.”

  Porthos glanced between Hope and Arthur. “Can’t say I see the resemblance, but the reaction tells me all I need to know.” He backed away from the Leader and addressed the man he’d followed for five centuries. “I’ll ask this only one time, sir. Are we seeing evidence that you’re in violation of the fourth Oath?”

  Arthur staggered at the words, finally regaining his usual arrogance of purpose and posture. He turned to Porthos, fixing the Hunter with a withering glare that caused the Hunter to step back, eyes wide. “Are you actually threatening me, Hunter?”

  Porthos swallowed, but maintained eye contact. “I’m doing my job, sir.”

  “I’ll answer your question, Hunter,” Hope said. “My birth preceded the formation of the Aliomenti by several decades. At that time, we knew nothing of Energy. We had no knowledge of ambrosia.” She turned back toward Arthur and nodded her head at him. “This idiot hadn’t yet conceived of the stupid Oaths. There were no Hunters whose sole purpose in life was to inflict misery on good people—”

  “Hey, I’m right here,” Porthos muttered.

  “—and there were no Assassins sent to eradicate those who’d never heard of the Oaths and would thus be in no position to follow them.” She glanced at Porthos. “Save your breath, Hunter. The worthless little man standing before you is far too much a schemer to allow himself to be caught breaking any of his own stupid rules, even if it is a mere technicality.”

  Porthos held up his hands. “Easy, lady. Just doing my job.”

  “You’re fired.” Hope turned back to Arthur. “You heard my son. You’ve been offered the chance to surrender, or to suffer the consequences of your refusal. Selfishness and ego won’t save you now, Daddy. Surrender now, quietly, or let others be hurt. Then again, letting others suffer on your behalf isn’t all that new, is it?”

  Arthur finally seemed able to look her in the eye, and his gaze narrowed with a ferocity similar to the one he’d leveled at Porthos. “Surrender, you say? Why would I do such a thing?” He laughed. “You think I’ll surrender because you show up in my office without an invitation, offering salacious claims against me? That’s pathetic.” He shook his head. “Let me ask you something. Do you really think you’ll walk out of here alive after threatening me?” He shook his head. “You accuse me of using others to achieve my ends, little girl. You seem to forget the number of people who’ve died to keep you alive.”

  Hope’s face paled and she took a step back as if she’d been hit.

  Arthur took a step toward her, eyes barreling into her, pressing his advantage. “Oh, you thought nobody knew about all of those people, did you? You thought I’d never find out? You thought I’d forget about the people who stepped forward to take the death blows meant for you, who died in your place?” He shook his head. “All those people willing to die for you except one. That knight in shining armor, Will Stark.”

  Hope’s mouth moved, but she said nothing, her eyes still wide.

  Arthur cocked his head. “Oh, this is predictable. Will Stark’s wife and son are here, in mortal danger, and he’s not here with them, and won’t even speak in their defense.” He laughed, cruelly, and took another step toward Hope.

  Fil stepped in to intercept him. “Take another step toward my mother and you’re dust.” His voice was glacially quiet and cold.

  Arthur’s eyes widened, and he stood still, staring down the young man who’d called him grandfather. But the smirk soon returned to his face, and he stepped back to ensure he saw his target. “Yes, one man saved you and somehow didn’t die in the effort. Hurrah for the great hero, Will Stark!” Arthur shook his head and gave a slow, mocking clap. “But don’t forget one thing. He let you die, or nearly so. What type of man lets the woman he loves nearly die… to protect his own secret?”

  Hope’s eyes shot open, and Fil moved toward Arthur once more, icy blue eyes ablaze.

  “Secret?” Porthos rubbed his hands together. “Hey, let’s never fight, okay? This is far more interesting and much less painful.” He looked at the tortured faces in the room. “Well, for me, anyway.”

  Arthur ignored the Hunter and put his hands out to keep Fil at bay. “If I had a daughter, I’d never let a coward like Will Stark near her. How can he let you be here in danger and yet stay far away? He. Is. A. Coward.”

  The air crackled around them as Fil’s Energy bristled with his anger.

  Hope sucked in her breath. “Will Stark is no coward.”

  “No?” Arthur sneered. “The evidence suggests otherwise. Perhaps, then, he’s not a coward.” He jabbed his finger at her. “But he is a fraud.”

  Fil was on him in an instant, seizing Arthur’s shirt and lifting him from the ground. The guards holding the human hostages looked around, uncertain what they should do. Porthos, realizing he had no chance to attack the man in black, puffed out his chest. “Hey, put him down!”

  Rand looked around for a weapon, found nothing, and charged Fil. He bounced off an invisible barrier and fell to the ground.

  Fil’s eyes burned into Arthur. “Do it,” he whispered, and the air crackled as the room shook. “I’m begging you. Insult my father one more time…”

  “Let him go, Fil,” Will said over the transmitter. “He’s baiting you. Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing his words have an impact.”

  Fil let go, and Arthur fell to the floor.

  The Leader stood, smoothing out his clothing. “You’ll notice that my old… friend… doesn’t deny that he’s a fraud,” he said, glancing back and forth between Hope and Fil. “It’s the truth, and both of you know it. How is it that one man could save so many lives, conceive of so many innovations, and always be in exactly the right place at exactly the right time?”

  The Aliomenti guards perked up, as did Porthos. A secret about the leader of the dreaded Alliance?

  Arthur stared directly at Hope, and then turned his gaze on Fil. “Tell them,” he said, his voice jaunty, delirious at the news he wanted shared, waving at the room. “Tell them how it was that Will Stark was so far advanced in his Energy development so soon after our founding. Tell them how it was that he just happened to stumble across our hidden village. Tell them how it was that he always seemed to be the one who knew exactly how to overcome any difficulty we faced, or any technical obstacle we found.”

  Hope and Fil remained silent.

  “Tell them, Will Stark,” Arthur said. “They won’t believe the truth from me, will they? But they’ll believe it from you.”

  “If they’ll believe something more readily from me than you, Arthur, it says far more about their opinion about you than anything. Why shouldn’t those in the room believe your word over mine? Do you think your own people find you so untrustworthy? Provided that they have the ability to form independent opinions, of course.”

  Arthur ignored Will, glared at Hope and Fil, and then turned to Porthos. “I’ll tell you why,” he said. “I’ll tell you why it is that Will Stark is pure fraud. Will Stark wasn’t born when I was born, or even when his wife—” he spat out the word “—was born.”

  Hope’s eyes widened, and she looked ready to interrupt Arthur’s revelation. Fil reached out his hand to steady her, sending a comforting bit of Energy her way. Let the truth come out, Mom. It’s best they know, too.

  Arthur’s eyes gleamed. “Will Stark traveled in time, going from the Aliomenti camp we raided not
two weeks ago, back to our very founding. Back to when this woman”—he jabbed a finger toward Hope—“was a mere child.”

  Porthos’ eyes widened. He mouthed the words “time travel” with a look of skepticism on his face.

  Arthur turned to look around the rest of the room. “And why would he do that, you ask? He was born a mere two centuries ago. At the time our Hunters attacked him near his home, he truly was the age he looked, a mere thirty-five years old. You couldn’t detect his Energy in that instant, Porthos, because in that instant the man you held down and beat had never heard of Energy. Aramis’ Damper didn’t work, because there was no Energy within the man to destroy.”

  Porthos scowled as he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  Arthur’s face lit up, triumphant. “And that is why I call Will Stark a fraud. He took the innovations of his past, traveled back a thousand years before he’d been born, and let others adulate him as some kind of visionary for stealing the ideas of others. Will Stark was no visionary, and he’s certainly no hero.”

  Porthos stared at him, and then laughed. “Time travel. This is your big secret and revelation about Stark? That he’s done all of the stuff we know of him because he’s a time traveler. Please tell me you’re joking.”

  Arthur scowled. “I’m certainly not joking, Porthos. Didn’t you ever wonder why you never found him again after that day when the Assassin burned the Stark home to the ground? Will’s alive now, isn’t he? He was alive two weeks ago. How is it that you, of all people, couldn’t find him after nearly centuries of looking? I’ll tell you why. It’s because his children”—he spat the word out—“yanked him from his burning home to a point in time only two months ago. You couldn’t find him because he didn’t exist.”