Chapter 43 – Markos
The flames climbed high into the midnight sky. Once again, we were gathered on the Shark’s Fin. The peninsula had seen two too many bonfires these last weeks.
As I looked around the ten somber faces, I redoubled my silent vow that this would be the last.
Death was a cruel master. He would claim us all, but I would fight him every day to prevent him claiming another of our company. The same resolve was written on the haggard faces around me.
Maybe the ancients had it right.
They’d worshiped the terrible force of nature. But their prayers didn’t prevent the horrible god from terrorizing them.
No, fighting was best.
Atlas moved toward the fire, offering his trinket to the flames.
One by one, the rest followed until it was my turn.
Tee shirts with superheroes, a video game console, and magical playing cards fed the conflagration.
I stepped forward, placing the laptop on the lad’s slim chest. The dual coins covering Iosif’s eyes stared back sightlessly but full of accusation.
I failed.
I should have been in that building. Serena was mine to protect, and instead, I’d been dealing with business instead of the primary duty.
I left that to a lad.
And now he’d paid the ultimate price.
I backed away from the pyre, feeling the heat dry the tears on my cheeks before they could fall. The laptop would burn with him, just as his secrets would. It was the price we all agreed to pay.
Atlas caught my eye across the flames. His massive frame seemed diminished somehow, shoulders hunched against an invisible weight. The irony of his name had never been more apparent. He nodded once, a gesture that contained both accusation and absolution.
“We should say something,” Indigo whispered, her voice barely audible above the crackling fire. “He deserves that much.”
But what could we say? That Iosif died bravely for our organization? That his sacrifice meant something to future generations? There would be no more of his line. The truth would taste like ash in our mouths.
“He was too young,” I said finally, the words scraping my throat raw. “Young and eager to be part of this.”
The fire popped, taunting my last testament.
“Iosif might have died, but we will never forget him. Swear it, all of you.” I took a moment to find each of their sorrow filled gazes. “Swear that his family's legacy will remain in our minds, and we'll teach our children his name.”
“And Iakovos’s,” Iris added, voice hoarse with emotion.
I gave the harpy a nod. “And his brother’s.”
“I swear it.” Atlas produced a blade and slit his palm. The bright stream danced over the fire.
The rest followed suit, each one cutting their palm and letting their blood mingle with the flames. When the blade reached me, I didn’t hesitate. The sharp edge bit into my flesh, a small pain compared to the one in my chest. My blood hissed as it hit the fire.
“Blood of our blood,” I intoned. “Fire consumes all, but memory remains.”
We stood in silence as the flames climbed higher, consuming what remained of Iosif. The acrid smell of burning plastic from the laptop mixed with the sweeter, more terrible scent I refused to name. The sea wind carried the smoke away from us, out over the dark waters beyond the Shark’s Fin.
While normal folk might dream of the glory found by joining the underworld, they conveniently forgot the sacrifices we paid for daily. This was what it meant to be bound in a terrible organization. It was the best of life, but also the worst. Loss tempered wealth, heartbreak danced with passion.
And in the end, the final moments were flames.