The Seven. Peter Newman

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