Everwinter: The Forerunner Archives (29 page)

The Everwinter mutant, exhausted, finally collapses against a wall for support, dropping his charge. The limp body he'd been carrying falls and Altair gasps, seeing the familiar visage of Pilcrow, smeared in blood from a gash on his head.

"He's not dead," Juno says, seeing Altair's scrutiny. "I... I had a chance to kill him but..."

Altair finally tears his gaze from the unconscious Pilcrow and heads over to Juno. He stops before her, face sullen. She stares at him, unsure how to greet him perhaps. She sticks her hand out, as if to shake. Altair just laughs and pulls her in, hugging her tightly. It'd been a long since he'd held another human being so close.

"I'm so glad you're alright," he says, feeling tears well up but forcing them back down. He is a master of suppressing emotion.

"Me too," Juno agrees. She hesitates.

"Well?" Altair asks. "Are you gonna tell us what happened or not?"

Juno laughs. "There's not a lot to tell really," she answers. She gestures to the wrecked Thopter. "Pilcrow and his cronies t
ook me up in that machine. I heard you talking to him over the communicator. They assumed you were trying to set a trap for them, so they decided they were just gonna blow up the entire city instead."

"Impossibles!" Glamis exclaims from nearby, nursing his wounds to which Ursa is now tending.

Juno shakes her head. "They had a weapon," she explains. “Forerunner technology they called an Atom Smasher." Everyone gasps at that. "Yeah, I've heard the name too. From the stories. But I never thought they actually existed."

Altair grits his teeth, baring them at the Everwinter mutant still resting next to Pilcrow. "What then?" he asks.

"I knew I had to do something," Juno continues. "So I did the only logical thing possible." She grins. "I attacked the pilot." Her eyes fall on the Everwinter mutant.

"Him?" Traylor asks.

Juno nods. "Yeah. He was about to shoot the Atom Smasher into the lab but I leapt on him, knocking the Thopter off course. The weapon shot harmlessly into the sky, but the Thopter went into a nosedive. I was thrown out of it, along with Pilcrow and Jacobi here." She gestures to the pilot, who smiles weakly.

"In the name of the gods!" Altair proclaims. "How did you..."

Juno laughs. "It wasn't anything miraculous," she answers. "We were only about ten feet above a rooftop. We landed right on top of it, me on top of Pilcrow. He smashed his head pretty good. When I came around, I was still on top of him. He was out cold." Juno hesitates, getting obviously choked up now. They all give her the time she needs.

"There was a knife," she says, "on Pilcrow's shoulder belt. I pulled it out
and cut myself free." She pauses, reminiscing. "I held it to his throat. I knew he was still alive, and here was my chance… He’d just tried to kill everyone I love in this world!" She gestures harshly to Pilcrow. She sighs deeply. "But I couldn't do it. I thought of all the death I'd already witnessed. I thought of Tien. Would killing Pilcrow really make a difference? Would it change anything? I dropped the knife."

Silence descends on the group, no one really sure what to say.

Then: "I makes it easy for yous!" Glamis proclaims. "I crush midget skulls right now!" He grinds his burnt hands together in his characteristic way.

"No, Glamis," Juno waves him back. "When I dropped the knife, Jacobi here saw everything. He approached me and told me I was an honorable human being. He told me I deserved very much to live, and that he was sorry for what happened. Pilcrow is a creature of hate, he explained, and that he himself was just following orders. I understood. I'd been following my
Father's orders my entire life, despite how I felt about them."

She turns to Jacobi now, giving the mutant a sympathetic look.

"It's true," Jacobi says, holding himself upright now. "I am sorry for all of this. I will take Pilcrow with me and go. You will not be bothered by us again." He stoops down and reshoulders the unconscious mutant leader once again.

"I can't let you do that," Altair cuts in, holding a throwing star up. "Not after this." He gestures to Juno, but she's suddenly in front of him, gently pushing his hand down.

"Let him go," she says, softly, not bossily. "There's been enough death here for one day."

Altair shakes his head but acquiesces. "This is a bad idea, Juno," he says, his every instinct railing at letting a
potential threat just walk away. “You keep letting our enemies live.”

"He can barely see," Juno tries to convince. "He has no goggles, and that blast nearly blinded him. It's over. Let's get on with our own mission." She turns to Ursa now, still tending to Glamis. "I assume any chance of synthesizing that cure here is out of the question."

Ursa nods. "With the Doctors dead and their facility destroyed we must continue to Everwinter. The lab there is our only hope now."

Juno nods, taking Altair by the hand. "Come on, let's get ourselves cleaned up and get the hells outta here."

Sagging, Altair realizes that she’s right. He smiles at her.

"I knows safe place to fixes ourselves," Glamis says, leading them away from the now
smoldering wreckage of the Thopter.

Such a wonderful machine, now ash.

The others follow Glamis, but Juno tugs at Altair's arm, keeping him behind for a moment. She looks him dead in the eyes. "What you said when Pilcrow had me," she pauses. "That you loved me. That wasn't true, was it?"

Altair laughs, high and throaty. "I had to do what I had to do to save you, Juno.
That’s all."

Juno smiles weakly
, her expression disbelieving.

"Sure," is all she says.

43.

"Gods, I miss the sun," I say, pulling the collar of my newly acquired coat up a little higher.

Not that it does much good.

"Never thought you'd ever say that, did you?" Ursa chides me, trudging up the road beside me, leaving shallow, trailing tracks in the snow. There's just a light dusting of it here, two days outside of Takay, and already I'm sick of it. 

The road we're on is well worn, but it doesn't look like anyone's used it in days. Skeletal, leafless trees line our way, most having dark green needles li
ke the sentinel pines back home but much more sparse. After everything that happened in Takay, we stayed two more days, nursing our wounds, gathering our bearings. Then Altair kicked our butts into gear. I could see the agitation in his eyes; he was worried about Pilcrow returning. I was worried about that too but,
gods
, it felt awesome to just relax and do nothing for once.

And I wasn't the only one to feel that way.

But, according to Altair, we were still a good few weeks from Everwinter, and the going is only gonna get tougher. We did find a supply of food and heavier clothing though, which Glamis provided–wooly coats and hats he calls 'tooks'–but they definitely don't feel adequate enough.

"I never thought I'd see snow," I say bleakly. "It's no wonder those Everwinter mutants are so pissed off all the time." Altair laughs behind us. "What?" I ask, annoyed.

"Nothing," he replies. "Everwinter mutants feel the same way about Eversummer."

I roll my eyes. "I was being sarcastic," I reply.

A coarse coughing echoes up to us from the back of our little troupe. I turn to look forlornly at my little brother. He's riding on Glamis' shoulders, eyes barely open, head bobbing. He only appears conscious now when he's coughing.

"He's getting worse," I say to Ursa, trying to keep my voice low.

Ursa nods. "I know. Unfortunately, antivirals were not among the stash of medical supplies I found in the Doctor's lab. He'll have to fight the infection on his own for now."

It sounds harsh, but there's nothing for it.

"And what if he can't?" I ask, realizing I'm being cynical.

Altair suddenly butts his way between us. "I'm going to get him some medicine," he says, eyes not meeting mine but remaining dead ahead.

I look at the desolation around us. "Um, okay. Where?"

"The next Fringe town is ju
st a few more hours up the road,” he replies. “But we're going to stop before that. I have a friend who can shelter you guys while I go and get the antivirals."

"You have friends?" I ask, sarcastic again.

Altair rolls his eyes. "She's a fellow Assassin," he sneers, “though she abandoned the life long ago. She lives a quieter life these days."

"Where do you Assassins come from anyway?" I ask; I'd broached the topic before, but hadn't truly cared.

Not until now, I guess.

Altair eyes me. "You know I can't tell you that."

I huff. "Can't you give me anything else? I only know what
everyone
else in the world already knows: that the world fell into chaos because of the Forerunners, and an elite army was trained to reestablish order. The Deacons and the True Body Plan religion was an offshoot of that. I know that the Assassins are relatively few in number now, but how did you fall in with my Father? He never had a need for an elite killer on his staff in Krakelyn. The Deacons took care of that well enough." I pause, watching Altair expectantly. "So, what's the deal?"

"Let's just say my purpose crossed
paths with your Father's at one time," he replies. It doesn't sound like I'm gonna get much more than that.

"Purpose?" I echo. "Does that
‘purpose’ have something to do with the genetic experimentation my parents put me through before I was even born?"

Altair shakes his head. "Le
t it go, Juno."

I curse. "This isn't finished," I say, and I pull ahead of him.

We continue on in silence for a time, the only sounds accompanying us the crunching of light snow underfoot and Traylor's incessant coughing. I try not to worry about it. Altair said he'd take care of it. It's kinda hard to stay mad at him for that reason.

About an hour later, the pines edging the road thin a little and we come to a massive bridge spanning an equally massive river.

Frozen, of course.

I've never seen so much ice. The const
ruction itself looks old, rusty and rickety.

"We're not crossing that, are we?" I ask, knowing the answer must be yes.

"Actually," Altair smirks knowingly, "we're not."

He heads for the side of the bridge, where a beaten footpath winds its way down a steep bank to the river's edge. Cursing, we all follow. Altair, of course, makes it to the bottom without incident.

I can't say the same for myself, however.

Halfway down I slip, grabbing Ursa and taking her down with me. We slide to the bottom together, coming out on the river. Ursa laughs and I can't help but join her. Glamis, still carrying Traylor on his bulky shoulders, makes it down without a problem. Glamis is wearing just a light tunic, but he's a resident of the Fringes, and used to colder temperatures. His arms are bandaged where he'd used them to rip into the flaming wreckage of the Thopter back in Takay, but the wounds hardly seem to bother him. Altair helps me and Ursa to our feet then continues to lead us downriver, along the ice.

I can hear water gurgling below.

"How thick is this ice?" I ask, suddenly aware of the potential danger. It's something I'd nev
er had to consider before.

I
t scares me.

"Thick enough," is the only response I get.

The ice cracks beneath us now and again, causing me to jump, but Altair hardly flinches. A short time later, the river opens out, seeming to spread to the horizon across a flat white plain.

"Is this a lake?" I ask. The amount of ice just staggers my mind. The wind is biting now that we're out in the open.

"We're almost there," Altair says, heading straight out from the river. The direction seems arbitrary to me.

After about ten minute
s, I see it.

A small log structure, little better than a hut, comes into view through the blowing snow. A curling wisp of smoke puffs lazily from a chimney, and I can almost feel the heat of the fire that is creating it.

"Oh, thank the gods!" I proclaim.

As we get closer, I see that the structure is actually made up of multiple rooms, tiny though they may be. I'm staring at
it when I suddenly fall though the ice.

I'm dead.

"Ahhh!" I scream, my leg frozen cold with fire.

But
it’s just my leg.

I look down, confused.

My leg is in a hole, drilled perfectly through the ice. Clumsily, I pull myself out, leg soaked but otherwise fine. "What the hells?" I say. I look around and see that there are other holes drilled all over the place, all around the hut. Some of the holes have sticks stuck in the snow above them, with a string going into the water. It takes me a second, but I finally figure it out.

"Are these fishing holes?" I ask, flabbergasted that someone would dare drill a hole in
the ice in the first place.