Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run


When Last We Met: Eight months after the Double Eclipse, Cain is recalled to Central City from his self-imposed exile, less than thrilled at the prospect of what awaits him when he arrives at the Central Palace.


Chapter Two: Among the Spires

The glass-domed roof of the tallest spire of the city drew the eye from afar, twinkling promises at travellers as they approached the legendary city gates. Cain himself eyed it with a dread that grew heavier the closer he got, all the while knowing his destination lay beneath that pretty glass peak.

Central City had always instilled a certain amount of loathing in him. After the Last Stand, he'd left without looking back, knowing that he would never again see the city in its glory. Nine annuals later, the sentiment had been actualized; the markets had been closed, the windows of the shops dirty and lifeless. There had seemed to be no barriers between the rowdier districts and the places where decent people dwelt. Hell, he honestly could have questioned if there had been one decent soul left within the walls of whole Gods-forsaken city.

During the first hellish week out of the suit, when he'd stepped out of DeMilo's house-of-sin-on-wheels and slammed the door closed on those who had saved him, his first unencumbered glance around Central City had unsettled him to the point of keeping his eyes on the pavement for most of his journey through the streets. He'd left the kid behind in a place he barely recognized and would never trust, not even with his memory of what the city had once been. Of course, all this before finding out the truth of who she was, back when he could still pretend without batting an eye that he no longer had a heart to listen to.

Now, eight months into the regency of Lady Lavender, things were changing, at least on the surface. The House of Gale's banner hung from every street-lamp, the brilliance of emerald green leading the way through the streets to the Central palace at the very heart of the city. He'd stabled his horse outside the walls, away from the noise and pollution, and had entered on foot. As he walked unheeded among the pedestrians, he noticed that there seemed to be more people, more cars. Central was livelier, busier; one semblance or another of the life that had once been.

It was close to eleven when he made it to the gates of the palace. Another pair of nervous glances met him as the guards just waved him through. The fact that he wasn't stopped tugged once again at the suspicion that was coming closer and closer to being his main concern. He refused, however, to let his mind wander to assumptions. He could imagine the worst without an ounce of effort, and it wouldn't help as he headed into whatever waited for him.

It didn't much improve his mood to see Glitch pacing the large entryway of the family entrance. As soon as the guards flanking the door had opened them wide for him, Cain's eyes honed in on the gangly body who was swiftly – and quite effectively – ploughing a furrow into the carpet with the endless back-and-forth of his shiny black shoes.

"What the hell cause did you have to call me all the way out here, Zipperhead?" he asked the moment his feet had crossed the threshold into the hall.

Though Glitch's body jumped, his eyes went straight to Cain and stayed anchored. The tension seemed to go out of his body and he was limp and exhausted – and relieved. Cain gave him a steady once-over glance, eyes sweeping from the fine leather shoes straight up to the bowler hat set at an angle on top of his head. Meant to hide the scar, vanity showing through with the return of old habits.

"You're late," Glitch said, retaliation sharpening his tongue, though his eyes and weak smile stayed friendly.

Cain smirked. "No, I ain't. Made it just in time, by the looks of things," he said. "If you'd wanted me sooner, you woulda sent for me sooner."

"Yes, well – " Glitch seemed on the cusp of saying something, but instead just shook his head, and clapped Cain on the shoulder. Cain's smirk turned into a slow half-smile that lasted only a moment before he felt the tremble of Glitch's hand. "I've been wondering this whole time if you'd turn up at all."

"Which brings us back to you telling me why you dragged me into the city."

"Kicking and screaming, I notice," Glitch said, rolling his eyes.

When Cain didn't reply, Glitch took that as his cue to lead the wordless way through a number of corridors and across many a grand space. One incredibly long and uncomfortably quiet elevator ride later, they were forty stories up and passing through another maze of finely decorated halls until a set of double-doors with heavy brass handles opened into a dark conference room.

Straight to business, then, Cain thought, frowning.

By the time Glitch had sealed them in, Cain was halfway down to the far-side, thumbs hooked into his belt as he walked slowly, attention caught by the mural that ran the entire perimeter of the room. It seemed a scene from a fairytale; a road of gleaming yellow brick wound a lazy path over hills and meadows, every colour bright, every inch fantasy and exaggeration. From a village of tiny houses and spans of white daisies, through patchwork fields and dark forests to a glittering city with towers of clear-cut emerald, so faceted and brilliant that it could have been blinding.

Glitch cleared his throat, thinking Cain had wandered off in thought. Nothing could be further from the truth. "So, how've you been, Cain?"

"Haven't had a reason to complain."

"Why with your attitude do I find that hard to believe? Isolation isn't good for you, you know," Glitch observed. "Makes you crotchety. Well, at least it's doing wonders for your health. You look a lot better than you did when you left."

Cain let the odd comment roll off his back. "This isn't about you checking after me; it wasn't exactly a care package you sent. So are you planning on making your point or am I gonna have to start asking questions?"

"I've been fine, thank you for asking," Glitch huffed, but seemed just as willing as Cain to let things slide. "I know that tone, you know; you think the reason I brought you here has something to do with DG." Cain paused his ambling steps long enough for Glitch to know he was right. "That's not the reason – well, not directly. It's Lady Lavender; her health is, um..." He tried to make light of it all, ever searching for the bright side, but all he managed was to look all sorts of uncertain. "Ain't what it used to be," he finished lamely.

Cain raised an eyebrow, watching as Glitch's eyes skipped away from his, as if he were afraid of the Tin Man reading something from deep within him.

"How bad are we talkin'?" Cain asked.

Glitch shrugged. "They've finally confined her to bed over their concerns, though they can't exactly explain what those are. No one knows how bad it is until they can figure out what's wrong with her, and they're coming up empty-handed on that." he said. "But we passed 'not good' quite a while ago."

With a snort, Cain turned away from Glitch. He walked to the windows, and pulled back the curtains to look out at the city. Surrounded by towers, there wasn't much of a view, unless a person liked brick and iron and darkness; he'd had enough of that for a lifetime. His reflection in the glass showed a man who seemed unaffected; he certainly didn't feel that way.

"How long," he asked.

"She is a rare and delicate flower," Glitch sighed, "growing fainter in the eternal darkness. Such a shame, it really isn't fair. Really isn't fair." The emphasis was intentional, no blip of the brain-stem. "She is the Lightless, don't you see?"

Cain paused, biting back an impatient remark. No, he didn't see. "I don't know if you've looked outside recently, Zipperhead, but there is no eternal darkness. The suns have come back out. Every day since that eclipse. That's why we won the damn war, remember?"

"Of course I remember," Glitch said indignantly. "It's everyone else who also remembers the war that we're worried about."

Immediately, Cain was on guard. "And that means what?"

Glitch seemed hesitant to continue, though it took little more than a steely gaze from under brim to jump-start his motor-mouth into running again. "We... well, they... honestly, I don't know –"

"Spit it out." The by-the-thread grip Cain held on his temper was fraying.

"You know Lavender is only standing in as regent! It's been less than an annual, Cain; if she steps aside because of failing health or – or –" Glitch stopped again.

Cain closed his eyes, his chin dropping until it almost touched his chest. Patience, he had it in abundance. One, two, th–

"Everything that has been done for the country since the eclipse has been done under the assumption that she would safeguard the kingdom as regent, and remain so for many annuals," Glitch said. Then, he whispered almost inaudibly, "Many, many, many annuals..." Signalling now that they were in for the long haul, Glitch pulled out a chair and sat down hard. He then kicked off his shoes, and put his stockinged feet on the long, polished table. "The kingdom is still wholly Azkadellia's. Let me tell you, the reaction to her presence hasn't been favourable since she's been filling in the duties for her mother who is supposed to be filling in the duties for her."

Cain did not lift his head while Glitch spoke, instead returning his eyes to the jewelled city night beyond the windows. A thousand windows lit up tens-of-thousands of lives, people who celebrated their queen no matter her official title and still did not trust – or forgive – the disgraced daughter who had selfishly torn their land asunder. The events of the tower were still generally unaccepted by the populace, he'd heard the doubts with his own ears. Hell, the first time DG had explained to him in a breathless rush what had happened atop the tower, he'd been hard pressed to believe it himself. From the very first hours after the eclipse, walking among the tents of the Resistance camp, anger lurked loudly among the fires, fear much quieter, and pity even more so. As the months had passed, these voices hadn't silenced.

Azkadellia's redemption had been – and continued to be – accepted only because of Lavender's faith and assurance; the fact that Azkadellia still lived was solely the doing of Lavender – and DG. If Lavender – Gods above and below forbid – if she passed, and the kingdom was again placed in Azkadellia's hands, it wouldn't be long before those angry voices that muttered among like in secluded places grew louder, more insistent, and dangerous.

"Where is DG in all of this?" Cain finally asked, forcing the words past his dry lips. He looked up to find Glitch staring straight at him, an uncommonly knowing look on his face.

"With her mother, mostly," Glitch said, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling. The precariously perched bowler toppled to the floor, and he made no move to retrieve it, made no indication he'd even noticed. "She's worked almost as hard as her mother did – does, but she hasn't left her mother's side since she took to bed. More than one of the councillors," and here he made a distasteful face, "has suggested having DG fill in for Lavender's public duties, to keep up appearances. Shifting the focus and approval to DG is the last thing we want."

Cain said nothing; he didn't imagine it was something DG would leap at the chance to do. Though, in the end, she would do it without complaint, there was no questioning that.

Glitch continued through Cain's frown. "The, um, regent and her husband are quite adamant that Azkadellia be there to guide the way through this. It will help." His own belief in this very statement was evident even without the affirming nod that followed. "It was the plan all along, you know. To restore faith, get people happy again, and to have Azkadellia redeem herself in the eyes of all that watch her. But instead, you know..." He put up his fists and popped out his fingers. "Poof. Outta nowhere."

"Is Azkadellia in any shape to be stepping up?"

Glitch nodded again; he let his feet fall from the table, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. As he bowed his head, Cain realized that the scar of Glitch's trauma could not be seen now, but for the tiny jagged line that peaked out of his hairline. The rest was hidden by his closely-shorn dark hair. "Azkadellia is ready to stand up and let people hate her. She's ready to prove she can – well, I don't know what she thinks she can do. Honestly, it's close to suicide. The best team of Tin Men in the whole of the Zone couldn't protect her from all who think she should still be punished for what happened. Not to mention any fugitive Longcoat with a grudge, and trust me, there's plenty."

Cain's jaw tightened. This was news he definitely hadn't been prepared for. He – like everyone else in the country – had assumed that there would be a restoration of peace after Lavender had returned to the throne. He hadn't entertained any notions that it would be an easy road, nor that there wouldn't be any more bloodshed on the behalf of the Gales. But he'd known – no, he'd hoped, like every other old order fool, that perhaps the country would fight its way to the times of calm and prosperity it had once known. He'd believed the Gales would forge the way.

"What about DG?" he asked, cursing himself forever for speaking the words aloud. "Can't she take the throne?"

"If Azkadellia were to step down, DG is next in the line of succession, though neither Az or Lavender have any intention of that happening," Glitch said. "Or, of course, DG could try taking it by force... but she doesn't want it. I brought it up to her myself."

"How'd that go?"

Glitch blew air through his lips and shook his head. When it was clear he wouldn't elaborate, Cain sighed.

"You still ain't said what any of this has to do with me."

Glitch laughed, but it was a cold and hollow sound. "Don't think for a second that I singled you out for any dire and dangerous reason," Glitch said. "I sent for Raw, too. Just in case."

Cain took a moment to steel himself before he asked the obvious question. He was going to regret this.

"Just in case what, Glitch."

Glitch's lips stretched into a tired smile, his eyes falling to half-mast as he regarded Cain seriously. It was all too clear that he'd spent more time mulling this over in his rehabilitated brain. He ran both hands through his bristly, short hair before tucking them behind his head.

"DG is well aware of the problems that could arise if Azkadellia regains the throne too quickly, say, next week," Glitch said, his voice taking on an overly-dramatic, ominous undertone that made Cain consider just how much he'd underestimated the situation that morning when he'd left his home. "Now, what she doesn't know is that as second-in-line, she's got supporters that would fight to put her on the throne instead of Az. She doesn't know that civil unrest could break out in her name – and she doesn't need to, either."

"If her mother dies and there's a riot to bring Az down, she'll figure it out pretty damn quick," Cain said; the words were hard, but there was no conviction behind them. He was too tired to even put in the effort.

"There won't be a riot," Glitch said hesitantly, "but there is a chance we might have to get DG out of the city, just to be on the safe side."

Cain growled. And there's the hitch. Welcome back to Central City, Wyatt.


Author's Note: Thank you so much for the encouraging (and staggering) feedback on the first chapter. I'm really excited to be pulling all of you along for this new adventure!