Authors: A.C. Warneke
“Mother!” Genevieve admonished. “She’s the new
Apocritae
Queen!”
The woman’s lower lip fell out as she pouted, “Don’t scold me, Gen. I knew that.”
Celeste managed a laugh as the two continued to bicker; it was so familiar and so foreign. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the time to hang around and enjoy their company. Pushing herself off the couch, she walked over, bent down and gave Genevieve a hug, interrupting the mother and daughter argument.
“You’re leaving?” Gen asked, returning the hug before pulling back and looking up at Celeste, concern apparent in her eyes. She remained supine on the couch, unable to move just yet; she doubted her legs would be able to support her.
“I have to,” Celeste sighed, keeping her lashes half-lowered over her strange, beautiful eyes. “I just want it over with.”
“Do you have a plan?” Gen asked, continuing to hold Celeste’s hands.
“No.” Celeste smiled bravely, feeling anything but brave. “I have a favor to ask, though.”
“Anything.”
Genevieve’s quick reply, her lack of questions, sent a shard of happiness deep into Celeste's heart. She was grateful for… everything.
“If you don’t hear anything from me by, oh,” she looked at the non-existent watch on her wrist. “Noon, find
Adam and tell him… tell him I’m sorry; tell him I love him.”
“Celeste.” Genevieve protested, still too weak to move, to stop Celeste from heading off to her death. The girl shouldn’t be facing the Queen so soon after so much loss, so much sadness. With nothing left to lose….
Forcing a too-bright smile, Celeste stepped back, letting Genevieve’s hands go. “Wish me luck; I’m off to storm the castle.”
Celeste could see the first rays of sun appearing on the horizon as she got out of her car, resigned to whatever end the
Fates had in store for her. Clenching her hands into fists, she slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses to cover the power swirling in her eyes, closed the car door and walked across the deserted parking lot to face her destiny, feeling the current of power vibrating throughout her body. She could only hope that it was enough to free Adam and Auberon from their tyrannical mother.
Walking through the doors to the familiar atrium, a sense of the surreal washed over her. Was it only a few months ago that she walked through the doors, eager to begin her job in research? Auberon was right; she was no longer that girl they met in Paris. Too much had happened over the last couple of months, no one could remain unchanged.
“Celeste?” a vaguely familiar voice called out. She looked over and saw Jon walking towards her, a pile of books in his arms. “What on earth are you doing here? I thought you, like, quit? And what’s up with those sunglasses? Are you pretending to be a rock star or something? Do you have a hangover?”
Her lips curved upwards but she didn’t answer; how could she? Nodding towards the books in his arms, she asked, “What are those for?”
He rolled his eyes and heaved a put-upon sigh, “The whole place is in an uproar;
Apocritae
, angels, demons, all of them, are clamoring for information. Everyone in research has been working insane hours trying to keep up with the demand. You know, we could really use your help.”
“I’m sorry,” she smiled sadly, shaking her head. “I have something I need to do.”
She turned to head up the staircase that led to the Queen’s chambers only to have Jon curse at her. Turning, she faced him, “If it makes any difference, what I am about to do should answer all of their questions. You’ll be able to go home and get some sleep.”
He seemed to measure her words before
he scowled and shook his head, “Whatever.”
She watched him head off down a different hallway. His regret probably had to do with that game he
played all the time. Soon enough he will be able to return home and summon an imp or something.
With a sigh, she began to climb the stairs, surprised that there was no one there to stop her. Where were all of the angels and demons Jon mentioned? Were they all hidden away behind locked doors? It seemed strange that with all of the hostility angels and demons felt towards the
Apocritae
that they seemed to make themselves comfortable in an
Apocritae
building.
Adam
and Auberon; they were the ones that made it possible.
And Celeste was responsible for ruining
everything.
She came to a halt at the beginning of the hallway that led to the Queen’s chambers. Lining the wall on either side were dozens of
Apocritae
, the tall elegant bodies draped in silk, their cold, harsh faces gazing at her with fathomless black eyes. Were they there to stop her or were they going to let her pass? She saw a familiar face at the end of the line walking towards her, “Ealasayd?”
“We knew you were on the way
and so we have barred the building to the Others not of our world,” he said, his strange black and white eyes gazing at her with something akin to devotion. Gesturing with his hand to indicate the
Apocritae
gathered in the hall, he took her by the arm and began to walk. “We came to bear witness to the final outcome.”
“All of you?” she asked, looking at the unnaturally beautiful men and women with wholly black eyes. Did this mean that
Adam was aware of her presence here? Would he even care?
“Well, they have borne witness to the strength of your blood, my Queen.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion; she hadn’t done anything to exhibit her powers, at least nothing publicly. “Please explain.”
He smiled proudly, “I am the only one to whom the
Calices
respond. The rest of the
Apocritae
see this and they grow bitter.”
“But I thought,” her words trailed off
. If what Ealasayd said was true then Auberon lied about having two or three
Calices
a night over the past couple of weeks. “Auberon.”
“He hasn’t been around for many months
,” he said with an indifferent shrug. “Knowing that he is yours, I assumed he was to be kept as your slave until you tired of him. There are a number of
Apocritae
who will be willing to take his place… should you survive.”
Celeste almost snorted out loud at the thought of keeping Auberon
– or anyone – as a slave but remembered herself in time; the
Apocritae
had a vastly different outlook on life. It was going to take time for them to adjust to the new rules once she became Queen.
If
she became Queen. Leaning closer to Ealasayd, she whispered, “Do they wish me victory or failure?”
The air buzzed as the
Apocritae
moved, but no one said a word. Right, that whole telepathic communication thing they had going on; the Hive mentality. Did she really want to be their Queen? Well, it was either become Queen or die so she didn’t really have a choice. She couldn’t just meekly walk away with her tail between her legs; the Queen would hunt her down and rip her apart, piece by piece. And then she would go after Adam and Auberon and anyone else she had loved.
“Well?” she asked after an appropriate amount of time passed. Pulling the sunglasses off her face, she looked at the
Apocritum
, pleased by the brief glimpse of surprise on his face, though he was quick to mask it. “What is their decision?”
“Most of them are taking a wait-and-see approach,” he answered diplomatically. Turning to her, he beamed, “Unless you wish to give them a taste of you
r blood?”
“Uh, no
,” she quickly declined the invitation.
“Very well,” he shrugged, accepting her refusal with calm equanimity. “It’s interesting, my Queen, you seem to have even more power than you did three weeks ago. Might I ask how you were able to gain so much power in such a short time?”
“Uh, trade secret,” she mumbled even as the blush stole across her face.
“I see,” he said evenly, releasing her arm and clasping his hands behind his back. Stopping just outside
a discreet door, he tilted his head, “She waits for you.”
Celeste looked at him but he did not meet her eyes
and she knew that from here on out she was alone. Taking a breath, she reached out and turned the handle, pushing the door open on silent hinges. The Queen sat on her throne, arrogant in her negligent pose as she simply watched Celeste walk into the room. Calmness descended over her, bringing with it peace.
It was almost over.
“You cannot win,” the Queen sneered, her long fingers idly caressing the arms of her chair.
“I can,” Celeste said, feeling the surge of power. Holding her hands out to
her sides, she stretched her fingers out, almost feeling the air crackling around her.
The Queen laughed, harsh in its icy splendor,
and glared at Celeste. “True, you have caused me endless grief, turning my beautiful Auberon against me, but you are nothing. You stupid, stupid cow; your kind is nothing but nourishment for my children.”
“And yet I am standing before you as your equal,” Celeste said, her voice even and calm. Even her heart was slow, steady. She wasn’t afraid.
“My… equal?" The Queen repeated, incredulous at the girl’s presumptuousness. “You will never be my equal. Look at you; you are pathetic, a pathetic little fool who is destined not for greatness but for death.”
“Then why is there fear in your voice?” Celeste asked boldly, raising her head and looking directly at the Queen with all the glory of her mystical eyes. With a shrewd smile, she added, “Your eyes?”
“It is not fear, child,” the Queen said, flying out of her chair and striking Celeste across the face before Celeste was even aware of the Queen's movement.
Celeste’s hand flew to her cheek, feeling the damp heat of her blood; she hadn’t expected that. Looking around the room, her courage faltered when she couldn’t find the Queen. There wasn’t anywhere to hide, where did the blasted woman go? Slowly, she made her way around the room, her body prepared to attack or be attacked.
Figuring it was best to have something at her back, she made her way over to the edge of the room, pressing her back against the wall. The sun was spilling through the windows now, brightening the room and reminding Celeste of when she was strapped to the table. She had been weak, powerless and there was nothing she could do to save her baby.
Her baby.
Automatically, her hand went to her empty stomach and a tear slid down her cheek as her sorrow returned with a vengeance. How could she forget? She had wanted that child so much, and now…. And now the child’s father had been banished and she would never see him again. There was no reason to go on, unloved, unwanted.
Crumbling to the ground, she felt the breath leaving her body.
She was a pathetic excuse for a human; she was an even more pathetic excuse for a Queen. Auberon would be ashamed if he saw how the mother of his child behaved; he would turn his back on her and go slinking back to his Mother and
she
would welcome him back with open arms. Together, they would laugh at the foolish girl who believed she could take on a Queen….
Celeste froze; Auberon wasn’t the father…
Adam was. The Queen’s attack wasn’t coming from the outside; it was coming from within. Standing, letting the sorrow wash through her, she heard the Queen’s laughter echoing in the room around her, echoing in her head.
You cannot win, you stupid cow!
Celeste’s hand went to the wound on her cheek; it was still oozing blood, though that didn’t surprise her
; she was going to keep bleeding until an
Apocritum
healed her. If she was going to win this thing, she had to find the Queen and fight her on equal footing, no more of these surprise attacks. The Queen wouldn’t have to expend any effort at all; she’d simply cut Celeste a few times and lock her in a room where no one would be able to lick her wounds and save her. If an
Apocritum
was even willing to risk his life to save hers. Judging by the looks she received as she walked down the hall, the possibility of that was negligible. Even Ealasayd would have second thoughts before offering his services.