Sam

Partway into the golden dusk, dinner was served. Due to Buck's maximalist approach to guest invitation, the kitchen table had to be brought out to extend the long table in the yard, and everyone was crowded together elbow-to-elbow, but at least the lord had brought along enough folding chairs to seat all of them.

Buck sat on the short end of the table facing east, with Golden Boy on his left and Francine on his right and his other rangers scattered wherever they liked, many of the bodyguards fairly tipsy and busy flirting with partygoers. The military officials mostly clustered along a stretch of the long end facing north.

Unfortunately, Gug was a little bit too big to be seated comfortably, and was starting to get a little overwhelmed by all the people anyway, so he was allowed to eat indoors with Fletcher, who point-blank refused to come out.

Sam was seated with Will along the south-facing long end, not far from the lord. She'd wanted to ask Serene to sit with them, but strangely enough she was nowhere to be found. Neither was Oatmeal, or that fellow Griff, who seemed to be some sort of frenemy to Will. She thought about asking Will, but figured it was probably one of those things she wasn't supposed to know and let it go with a shrug. She'd already learned her lesson about that.

Sometimes, it was better to just let Will have his secrets. He only held onto them to keep her safe, after all.

Sunny sat to Sam's immediate left, and ADAM was to her left. The robot fixed his icy blue stare on anyone who so much as glanced at the girl. Will had talked him out of bringing his rifle to the dinner table, but Sam had seen him stuffing all sorts of blades into his chassis before sitting down. He was ready to fight off an army to keep Sunny safe if he needed to. Sam didn't like the guy much, but she could respect his dedication at the very least.

Will's friend Joe was responsible for serving the main courses. There were some fairly bizarre choices mixed in, like bone broth and blood pudding and boiled hooves. Will explained that it was an effort to be resource-efficient.

"You might thank me for my foresight someday soon," he said, rather ominously, as he helped himself to a good slice of blood pudding. Despite his words, even he looked a little put-off by the great black slab on his plate, cutlery hovering uncertainly.

Sam was feeling less squeamish. She got a bit of everything, wandering around the table to skewer herself a bit off this platter or that before plopping back down with what had turned into a burgeoning mountain of food heaped on her plate. She hadn't intended to take quite that much, but there was only one way to get rid of it now, so she shrugged and tucked in. Since she wasn't having any alcohol, her and Sunny were sharing a bottle of cranberry juice.

For a while, talk was put on the backburner as hungry guests focused on filling up. The food, even some of the weirder stuff, was really damn good. Will and his friend had definitely put their back into the cooking.

Then, in the middle of the meal, Will rose unceremoniously and clinked his cup with a spoon to get everyone's attention, the effect somewhat ruined by the fact that the vessel was metal rather than glass, making a tinny clunk clunk clunk.

"Hello," Will said as conversations dropped off and faces turned toward him. "I'm glad you could all make it tonight. I know quite a few of you, and I've spoken to some others, and for those I haven't, I assume most know who I am. But for those who don't: my name is Will Greene, and I am your host for tonight.

"I'm sorry for interrupting like this, but I have several important announcements to make—which, in fact, is a big part of the reason why you have all been called here."

He craned his neck past Sam and motioned to Sunny. "Would you stand up for me, please?"

The little girl did as she was told, hopping to her feet while wiping a bit of meat grease from her mouth with the back of her hand. ADAM shot up even straighter in his chair, if that was even possible; on high alert.

"I assume many of you have already heard about her," Will continued, smiling first at the girl, then out over the guests. "I'm sure there are many rumors circulating about a child on the Frontier, so let me be the first to confirm them. Yes, what you've heard is true. She really is a child; born of a mother's womb, not brought in via the Shore of Awakening. And yes, she really does belong to an eleventh Profession—Mediator."

Folk gawked at the girl, and there were hushed murmurs all along the table. While Sunny had been hanging around the party all day, it seemed that many had harbored some suspicion about the truthfulness of her supposed identity. Some looked to Buck to confirm Will's words, and when the lord grinned and nodded, that made the speculation rear up even louder.

"I'm sure many of you are wondering how something like this can be possible," Will said. He wasn't yelling, but everyone went silent the moment he started speaking again. It was like they understood instinctively that he wasn't the sort of person you should talk over. Or maybe they were just afraid of him by reputation. "The truth is… Sunny is unique. She's important. She's a symbol of hope—a chance at redemption for our race.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"This girl was born of a mother, but has no father. She was conceived through immaculate conception. She is Era's daughter. And while the specifics of her Profession remain a mystery, I am confident that she will, in time, be the catalyst that allows us to kill the Devil Queen and cleanse the Unmaking—to make this world ours again."

He let that hang for a bit. There were more murmurs. Sam shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was clear to her that Will was running some kind of scheme, but whatever it was, she knew very little of it. The fact that he would proclaim Sunny a child of the goddess all but confirmed it for her. It was way too overtly religious for his tastes, meaning there had to be some bigger point involved for him to be running with that narrative.

Whatever it was, she had no choice but to hang onto her butt and let him play out his game to the end. Based on the confident set of his features, she could tell he was having a good time, but his eyes were unreadable behind his shades—she assumed he was wearing them now to make it even harder for people to guess his motives.

"The Better Times are long gone," Will said, "but we stand on the brink of another golden age—for Octant Six, and maybe the whole Frontier. Brimstone is dead, and we now have a good leader in his place." He tipped his cup toward Buck, who laughed and clapped his hands in delight, like a child getting praise from his mother. "There might be some difficult times still ahead of us, but if we find a common spirit and work together to rebuild our city, we have every chance to make our futures very bright indeed. Is this something we want?"

He looked around with an expectant little smile. When it became clear that his question wasn't rhetorical, there was a bit of mumbled assent, some nods, and surprisingly even a few enthusiastic shouts of "Yes!".

Will nodded, satisfied with the general response, and continued: "There is one major hurdle standing in our way, however. Even though Brimstone has been dealt with, Sheerhome still has enemies. But the ones I'm referring to aren't just enemies of our little city, but all of humanity. They call themselves the 'Omen Bearers'.

"This cabal works from the shadows to sow chaos and destruction throughout the frontier. Their patron is the Archangel Valeria, once the Seraph of Charity, who now calls herself the Seraph of Vengeance. She hates all of mankind for our sin of killing the goddess, and she has contracted the Omen Bearers to kill all other humans in exchange for eternal life.

"Our late lord's equally late advisor, Handsome, was one of them. His job was to ensure Sheerhome's doom by keeping Brimstone in power and playing on the madman's insanity. The senseless war against Stormfront that we just barely avoided was largely his doing, and likely many of Brimstone's other outbursts were at least partially influenced by the Omen Bearers."

Will held out his hands, the pale right one twitching fitfully. "The reason why I'm telling you this is not just to warn, but also to encourage. We have the chance to be everything they are not. The enemy fights only for his own gratification and gain, so we shall be selfless. The enemy believes only in blood and death, so we shall be hopeful. The enemy acts only through lies and conspiracy, so we shall be honest. The enemy fights only when it is easy and safe, so we shall be brave.

"I understand that all this is a lot to take in. I was skeptical myself at first. But eventually you shall come to accept, as I have, that we are living in an extraordinary time, and that we shall be witness to extraordinary things.

"Regardless of your feelings about her—I am not a believer myself—you shall accept that Era has chosen us, all of us, to carry on her will by raising and protecting her daughter, and by marshalling the forces of good toward the final fateful battle against the darkness that festers at the heart of our world.

"All your cunning, all your strength, all your dedication—everything will be required of you. In return, everything will be given to you. Look at the child. See the future of our people, and the reason why we must fight." He nodded in a half-bow to the left side of the table, then straight ahead, then to the right. "Thank you for listening. I hope you are able to take my words to heart."

With that, he sank back into his chair with a long, deflating sigh; elbow propped against his good leg and chin resting in his hand as he watched a lively clamor start up over all that had been said.

"You kind of sounded like one of those resurrectionist types for a second there," Sam whispered in his ear. "You planning to quit your job and become a preacher?"

Will snorted. "Hardly."

"Why all the theatrics, then?"

"Because it's useful." He tipped his head slightly her way. Trying hard to keep his face neutral, but she knew him well enough to see the tightness in his face from the strain of having to put on a show in front of so many people. "The thing is, the Omen Bearers work for the archangel, but their motivations aren't religious in nature. Theirs is a purely self-serving endeavor that, by necessity, attracts only those who are antisocial enough to sacrifice all of humanity for their own benefit. Thus, the glue that holds them together is mutual gain and nothing else. People like that have no loyalty, no conviction. What better antidote to that kind of cancer than hope and unity? Well, religion is a good shortcut to social cohesion, so playing the spiritual angle can only be to the good, I think."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "But you don't believe in it?"

Will just smiled incredulously, like he thought she was an idiot for even needing to ask.

She was starting to say something else when he suddenly stood up again, raising his voice. "Oh, by the way! I have a piece of good news I might as well share to raise your spirits. I have recently uncovered the identity and location of the Omens' leader, and I will be carrying out an assassination attempt shortly."

"What?" Sam asked flatly. Others seemed to share her sentiment, if not quite so succinctly.

Will just gave her a mad grin that made her want to punch those stupid sunglasses off his stupid face.

What the fuck is he talking about, 'carrying out an assassination attempt'? No the fuck he isn't!

She was going to have some CHOICE words with this man when they got a moment alone.

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