From the moment he had begun to understand anything about the world, Gary Unwin had known there was something profoundly different within him.
At first, it was a vague sense of knowing where things were, whether it was only a sense of direction instead of a clear vision of a place, or a glimpse of a person’s true form beneath the human camouflage.
Later, when he grew older, he started to sense more: he learned to look for intentions behind the words and actions, and truth soon became another thing he knew how to find. It was a game he used to play with his father, his mother shaking her head at them with fond exasperation.
When his father passed away under dubious circumstances, Gary’s sense of everything turned upside down. In their meager living room saturated with grief and loss, his every instinct screamed that the somber gentleman crouching in front of him was hiding things, but for the first time in his life, Gary wasn’t able to coax anything out of him. To his seven-year-old self, it was a devastating moment, and he accepted the odd medal held in front of him with a sullen pout.
London in 1885 wasn’t safe for a woman with a small child, and it didn’t take long for things to take a turn for the worse. Mr. Dean Baker seemed like a decent man at first, but he soon revealed his true colors. By then it was already too late. He had ingratiated himself into his mother’s and his lives and by becoming their benefactor, his mother could no longer function without Mr Baker — even though he was a thug and a blaggard.
A decade later, after years of trying and failing, Gary finally tried to stand up and defend his mother, but he was but a young man of seventeen, and the aftermath against a grown man well versed in the art of violence was ugly. It ended up with Dean looming over him with bloodied fists and Mother crying in the background, pleading him to leave before Dean killed him.
And that was how Gary became Eggsy, a silent seeker-for-hire who didn’t ask questions and always caught what he was hunting.
Along the years, Eggsy tried to find the somber gentleman who had delivered the news about his father, but he wasn’t successful. Even though his skills slowly grew with practice and he gained confidence, becoming more subtle and cunning, he managed to get only flashes of his prey. Apart from a name — Harry Hart — it was all for nothing, completely useless for tracking.
Even that knowledge had come with a cost.
It was odd. Eggsy’s abilities almost never let him down, and on the rare occasion it happened, there was always something else at play. Eggsy was aware of others like him — either seekers or otherwise gifted — and his problems with finishing a job were more than likely somehow related to his object having abilities themselves.
However, stumbling upon a group of extraordinary people was still somewhat of a surprise.
Eggsy was on his way to track down an evasive child molester who had so far hidden behind his wealth and status when he was interrupted by one of his contacts.
She was practically vibrating with excitement as she wheezed, conspiratory, ”Listen to this, luv. There’s this group of special important people meetin’ in a fancy hotel today. I heard ’un of ’em was the bloke you’ve been looking for!”
Eggsy blinked, hastily thanked her with coins, abandoned his job for the night, and turned on his heel to hurry to The Langham, just in time to see a rather mixed group of gentlemen and a lady entering the hotel. At the sight of a tall gentleman, something in Eggsy’s chest tugged insistent and unrelenting. Remembering his frustration from over a decade back, he zeroed his stare and senses in on the man and ignored the rest of the party, eagerly trying to see.
Disturbingly enough, Eggsy couldn’t sense the true form of anyone in the small group. All he could sense was that, apart from the elderly, chubby gentleman, everyone was special, resonating with his senses in the peculiar way Eggsy had learned to associate with the extraordinary.
As if sensing Eggsy’s focus, the tall gentleman paused and turned around to look unerringly at where Eggsy was hiding. Eggsy’s breath hitched as he saw a glimpse of his face.
Older and more weary than the man he remembered from when he was seven, he still was Mr. Harry Hart.
After a short moment, Mr. Hart shook his head and followed the others inside.
Out of sheer stubbornness, Eggsy followed them and crept after them until they stopped outside a posh suite. Silently, he watched from the shadows as Mr. Hart was first denied entrance, and how the lady of the group glided forward, exchanged words with the occupant of said suite, and led them inside.
For a moment, Eggsy hesitated. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but even if he ignored his obsession about Harry Hart, something about the group itself called out to him. He knew he needed to be inside, to observe and listen, and because his instincts had always guided him true so far, he decided to sneak closer.
He caught only a little through the thick door: pompous words about ”saving the world”, about ”duty and honor,” about ”England and the Empire” — none of which mattered much to Eggsy. He closed his ears and concentrated on listening to intentions and thoughts behind the words, but it gave him little insight as they seemed to have nothing in common with those which were uttered out loud.
It was nothing new to Eggsy, however: by the age of twenty-one, he was well aware of how little truth words actually held.
His musings were cut short when he sensed death. He backed away from the door, and soon after, a group of black-clad men made their way silently towards the suite Mr. Hart and his party had entered. They were led by a black-haired woman, and even without his senses, Eggsy would have had no troubles seeing how her whole demeanor screamed of death and mayhem. As much as Eggsy would’ve liked to stay in his dark corner and observe, he knew he couldn’t just stand aside and watch the group die where they stood. So, he waited until he had the chance to silently take out one black-clad man, and then snagged his cape and rifle.
When the fight began, Eggsy realized he could have just stood back and observed, because Mr. Hart and his companions were anything but defenseless.
The red-haired lady smiled a terrible smile, revealed her teeth and descended on a group of attackers with a murderous grace and a throaty laugh that chilled Eggsy to the bone. The bald man in royal, oriental robes fought with lethal precision, lashing out left and right, effectively clearing the area around the elderly man who had at least momentarily lost his stiff upper lip. A posh man Eggsy hadn’t seen before fenced his attackers off with an almost bored sneer on his face and with little care for his own personal wellbeing or the state of his suite.
Mr. Hart was fighting the woman clad in death, engaged in a deadly dance of blades, and it was both terrifying and enthralling to watch. Despite his apparent advanced years, he fought effortlessly, barely out of breath, blocking hits with an ease that made Eggsy breathless. He was so caught up with staring that he almost missed the sniper on the window, and only his fast reflexes combined with his abilities allowed him to take the shot that saved Harry Hart’s life.
The distraction allowed the woman to slash a wicked cut on Mr. Hart’s temple before she took off with the few remaining attackers. Eggsy was torn between the need to chase after her and stay to confront the group, but the decision was taken from him when a hand gripped his shoulder tightly, and a furious Mr. Hart demanded, ”Who the hell are you?”
Eggsy ignored the thudding of his heart and quipped, ”A little gratitude would be nice, mate. I just saved your life.”
When Mr. Hart didn’t say anything, Eggsy sighed and tugged his medal from under his shirt and said, ”My name’s Eggsy Unwin. We’ve met before. You gave me this medal the day you told me my father had died.”
Mr. Hart blinked and let go of his shoulder as if burned. He stared at the medal for a moment before visibly composing himself.
”My apologies,” he said somewhat stiffly. ”Your shooting form is abhorrent, by the way.”
”Well, sorry about that I’m sure,” Eggsy muttered at Mr. Hart’s turning back.
He didn’t know what else to do, so he followed Mr. Hart into to the now shattered suite to meet the others.
The bald man helping the visibly badly shaken older gentleman up introduced himself simply as Merlin and the other as Mr. Chester King. The red-haired lady offered Eggsy a small smile and the name Miss Roxanne Morton. Eggsy thanked her by pointing out she had a little bit of blood on her jaw and averted his eyes politely as she delicately wiped it off with her finger and sucked it clean afterward.
The sneering man never introduced himself, but Roxanne later told him Mr. Charles Hesketh had never liked talking to people he considered beneath him. For that, Eggsy decided to call him Charlie, just to spite him.
”We should get moving,” Mr. Hart said quietly. ”The fight attracted too much attention for the hotel to ignore it.”
”And where would we go?” Charlie snorted.
Merlin shot him a cool look. ”To my ship,” he said calmly. ”I’m sure we can find accommodations suited to your… needs.”
Charlie opened his mouth to snap back, but stopped at a sour glare from Chester King.
”Your next stop is Paris,” Mr. King said bluntly. ”To pick up Percival.”
Mr. Hart raised his brows at him. ”And how are we supposed to do that, I wonder?”
Mr. King let out a rude sound. ”I don’t give a rat’s arse as long as you get it done,” he muttered, shoved Merlin’s hand away from his elbow, and slowly made his way to the door. ”Just remember what’s at stake here, Harry,” he called darkly before taking his leave.
”As if you’d let me forget,” Mr. Hart muttered under his breath. Eggsy sensed an odd undercurrent from his words, but he couldn’t make anything out of it.
Mr. Hart huffed out a frustrated breath, shook his head, and started towards the door. The others followed him, but Eggsy stood still, unsure of if he was supposed to follow or go on his way.
”Come along, Eggsy,” Mr. Hart called over his shoulder without slowing down.
Eggsy felt a slight tremor run down his spine and hurried after Mr. Hart, missing Merlin’s surprised expression and the way Charlie’s eyes narrowed.
The first time Eggsy saw Merlin’s ship, his jaw dropped. He completely forgot his manners as he blurted out, ”Are you takin’ the fucking piss?”
Behind him, Charlie spluttered in indignation and Mr. Hart let out a soft, amused snort, but Merlin merely glanced at him with a smug smile. ”I assure you, I am not.”
The ship was massive. It stretched wider than seemed possible and kept rising higher and higher as it surfaced from the water. It was blindingly white even in the dim light of the setting sun, and with its golden ornaments, it was perhaps the most beautiful thing Eggsy had ever seen.
The others walked past him, Charlie giving him a purposeful shove while passing him, and he didn’t realize he had frozen on his steps until Miss Morton turned at the drawbridge and asked, amused, ”Are you coming?”
Eggsy closed his mouth and hurried after her.
The insides of the ship were very much like the outsides: all white marble, golden ornaments, and soft carpets, a world of luxury in a relatively small space. Eggsy felt overwhelmed in such a lush environment, unsure of where to sit and how to behave. He had seen much in his twenty-one years — especially after leaving home and becoming his own master — but he had never gotten used to wealth. The others didn’t seem to bat a lash at the extravagance, which left Eggsy wondering about their backgrounds.
The dinner was served in the dining room, and everyone except Eggsy had changed into better attire. For a moment, he felt inadequate in his clothes, but he set his jaw and decided not to give a damn. If the others felt the need to judge someone’s character by the amount of spare clothes they dragged along, it was their problem.
”So… Paris?” Eggsy asked, toying with his wine glass. He had taken only one sip, because as delicious as it was, Eggsy had no love for alcohol. He had seen enough of the effects on his mother’s suitors, and he had no wish to experiment on himself.
”Yes, Paris, Eggsy,” Mr. Hart confirmed. ”We’re going to pick up the last member of our little league.”
Eggsy sighed and directed a mournful gaze at Harry. ”So, no time for sightseeing? I’ve never been to France, you know. Seems a waste.”
Mr. Hart let a small smile tug his lips. ”I’m afraid there won’t be time for sightseeing. Perhaps some other time, my boy.”
”I’ll hold you to that promise,” Eggsy winked, a slight heat rising at Mr. Hart’s words.
He had intended it as a joke, but something in Mr. Hart’s eyes flashed, dark and hungry, gone before Eggsy had had time to interpret it fully. Slightly caught off balance, fought back a blush as he dropped his eyes on his plate seemingly interested in the patterns the gravy had left there.
”A war is coming, gentlemen, and it is the mission of the League to stop it from happening,” Merlin said somberly, cutting through the slightly awkward silence.
Before Eggsy had the chance to ask what Merlin was talking about, Charlie downed his glass and waved at a servant to fill it again.
”What League?” He asked. ”We’re just a disorganized group of gentlemen, a woman, and a… whatever.” He threw a disgusted look at Eggsy and asked, ”What kind of a name is ’Eggsy’ anyway?”
”One with an E, two Gs, an S and a Y,” Eggsy shot back, earning himself a laugh from Miss Morton.
”Yes, thank you, Merlin,” Mr. Hart said pointedly, ignoring Charlie and Eggsy. ”Regardless of personal opinions on the shared company, there is a war coming. As most of you already know, a mysterious gentleman called ’Valentine’ has been conducting acts of terror around Europe, planting evidence that would turn the countries against each other.”
”His ultimate goal, it would seem, is to ignite a worldwide war,” Merlin said darkly. His eyes flashed briefly, and Eggsy felt like there was something immensely bigger in the room, a pressure of a being much stronger and more powerful than anything he had so far encountered. Then Merlin blinked and the feeling was gone. Eggsy didn’t know what to think, but something made him glance at Mr. Hart.
To his surprise, Mr. Hart was looking back at him with a slightly raised brow and an amused glint in his eyes.
The mission to pick up their last member went exactly as smoothly as was to be expected when they were meant to capture a Berserker. Meaning: it didn’t.
”I thought Paris was supposed to be the city of love,” Eggsy panted as he raced along the smelly alleyway. ”I ain’t feelin’ the love tonight, mate.”
Mr. Hart shot him a feral grin. ”Perhaps you need to broaden your views,” he said, then pointed up to his right. ”There!”
Eggsy fired where Mr. Hart pointed and heard a roar.
”You know, you’re not supposed to actually shoot him,” Mr. Hart observed.
”Shut up,” Eggsy grumbled, but made sure to aim slightly more to the side the next time Mr. Hart ordered him to shoot.
In the end, it required combined efforts of Eggsy, Mr. Hart, Merlin, and Miss Morton to drive and lure the beast that was supposed to be Percival into the alley where they had set their trap. Even then, it ended in everyone but Miss Morton sporting several cuts and scrapes. By a stroke of bad luck, Eggsy got the worst of it by ending too close to Percival and receiving a stinging blow to the head that left him reeling and nauseous.
On the other hand, it resulted in Mr. Hart supporting him on their way back to the Nautilus. It was something Eggsy probably wasn’t supposed to enjoy quite as much as he did, and he decided not to think about it too closely while pressing closer to Mr. Hart. The other man didn’t so much as pause his murmured conversation with Merlin, but his arm around Eggsy tightened ever so slightly.
By the time they had managed to haul Percival into the Nautilus and his specifically designed quarters (”A glorified cage, I’d say,” Charlie had snorted), the sedative they had used on him in the alleyway had almost worn off. It was a calculated risk they took because the potion Miss Morton had prepared to put the Berserker side to sleep only worked without a sedative in Percival’s system.
Eggsy would later learn that Percival had knocked two of Merlin’s crew members unconscious before Miss Morton had gotten close enough to dose him. It mattered little to him, though, as he was led to his quarters by Mr. Hart and gently laid on his bed.
Because even opening his eyes made him want to vomit, Eggsy kept his eyes closed and concentrated on his breathing. As a result, he was hyperaware of Mr. Hart: of him moving around in the room, removing Eggsy’s boots, and the way his fingers traced the curve of his ankle with a barely-there touch before he spread the blanket over him. He could not suppress a slight shiver.
His head was spinning because of the blow and the revelation of the light sweep of fingers against his skin, Eggsy’s defenses dropped as he whispered, ”Harry.”
Mr. Hart — Harry — let out a soft breath. ”You should rest, Eggsy,” he said gently and touched the tips of his fingers briefly to the young man’s temple where Percival’s fist had struck him before leaving the room.
With the memory of Harry’s touch burned to his skin, Eggsy drifted off to sleep.
The next morning when Eggsy made his way to the dining room for a late breakfast, he stared curiously at the unassuming, almost shy man meticulously spreading butter on a toast.
”Please, take a seat,” he said quietly. ”I’m not going to bite you. Or, well, not now that I’m me.”
The man, Percival, turned out to be a former colleague of Mr. Hart’s (whatever that meant), but a series of unfortunate events with untested chemical solutions had turned him into a man/beast. He detested his second form deeply, no matter what people said. The Empire had unsuccessfully tried to hire him, but they had eventually grown tired of his refusals and tried to kill him instead.
At that point, Percival had decided he didn’t like England anymore and fled to France.
”I’m so sorry about that,” Percival apologized, waving with his hand in the general direction of Eggsy’s temple.
The bruise Percival — or, his alter ego — had left Eggsy had bloomed during the night despite the cold compress Harry had left Eggsy. By morning, the whole right side of his face was the shade of a ripe plum and tender to touch.
”Nah, mate. It’s of no matter,” Eggsy said with a lopsided smile. ”I know it wasn’t exactly you. Besides, I’m the one who should apologize: I shot you.”
Percival blinked. ”It was you? Quite well shot, I have to say. Usually, nobody is fast enough to hit me.” He cocked his head and gave Eggsy a long look. ”But then, you’re not exactly the usual kind, are you? Don’t worry, the rest of us aren’t quite normal either. You’ll fit right in.”
Eggsy wasn’t sure of what to say, so he said nothing and concentrated on drinking his tea.
Of course, he had noticed things about his companions, but it wasn’t something he could put his finger on. Miss Morton and Percival were obvious, of course, what with her being a vampire and him a Berserker, and Eggsy knew his own worth of course, but he had no idea what the other three men were. There was something cold and chilling about Charlie, but it was hard to say if the reason was something supernatural or just his nature. Merlin was definitely something powerful, but Har— Mr. Hart was a complete mystery.
Thinking about him sent shivers along Eggsy’s spine.
It wasn’t that the fleeting touches or the few looks they had shared were unwanted, far from it. Eggsy had known since he was little that he was attracted to his own sex, and he also knew that for some people, he was bent. It was more about the fact that Eggsy had no idea what to do — this was the first time the object of his attraction was a proper gentleman.
If he pursued Harry, would he be thrown off the Nautilus? If he did nothing, would Harry be offended? And since when had he started thinking about Mr. Hart as Harry?
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the others filing in and therefore, he jumped a bit when Miss Morton touched his shoulder.
”Why so serious?” She asked.
Without his permission, Eggsy’s eyes flicked briefly to Harry, and when he saw Harry glance back, he guiltily averted his gaze.
”Ah,” Miss Morton said softly with understanding. She took a delicate sip of tea and bent over his shoulder to murmur, ”If it’s any consolation, you’re not alone. But I’d be careful,” she warned, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.
Eggsy dared a quick glance where she pointed and caught a glimpse of Charlie’s narrowed eyes before he turned his head.
”Appreciate the warning, Miss,” he said, barely moving his lips. Her lips twitched into a small smirk and then she directed her attention to the fresh batch of scones the servants brought in.
After the breakfast, they moved into the library (or ”War room,” Eggsy started calling it) to go through their plans. Eggsy concentrated more on his senses than actually listening. He knew that this time he could get away with not paying attention by blaming his head injury — not that it helped with his dilemma with Harry.
He tried not to dwell on that too much.
According to Chester King, Valentine had stolen the blueprints of the foundations of Venice. Apparently, his plan was to blow the town to pieces while the heads of the European countries were visiting for the Carnival. It would throw the whole world into a war unlike any seen before.
As far as the League was concerned, it needn’t be seen at all.
”Do we know what this Valentine — if it even is his real name — looks like?” Charlie asked.
”We know what his first in command looks like. She’s the one who led the attack on your hotel suite,” Harry said calmly. ”She’s a Harpy and goes by the name ’Gazelle.’ And no, I don’t believe either of their names is real.”
”A Harpy called Gazelle?” Eggsy whispered at Miss Morton. ”That don’t make sense!”
”Hush Eggsy,” she shooshed absently.
”Our mission,” Harry continued, giving Eggsy an exasperated look from the corner of his eye, ”is to intercept Valentine’s plans. We’re on our way to Venice as I speak, and if Merlin’s calculations are correct, we should be there before sundown.”
”So soon?” Charlie asked. ”That’s impossible.”
Merlin merely shrugged and kept leafing through his papers. ”The Nautilus isn’t exactly a normal ship,” he said mildly.
Charlie snorted, but didn’t question Merlin’s non-answer.
When they arrived, Venice was a cacophony of celebration: drunken people in obnoxious costumes, music, food, fireworks, and acts of carnal copulation in dark corners that made Eggsy blush. Charlie rolled his eyes, but it didn’t escape Eggsy how he turned hungrily to look when he thought no-one was watching. It made Eggsy’s senses tingle, indicating it had something to do with Charlie’s true form.
Eggsy filed the information away for further studying.
It didn’t take them long to find the bombs laid out in an even setting in the footings of the city. When ignited, they would cause a domino effect that would eventually level the entire place. On top of that, the charges were so heavily rigged that touching anything would most likely blow the whole city up in flames right away.
The only plan they came up with was to blow up one section of the town to stop the domino effect. Of course, that meant they had to wait until they saw where the explosions started and where they were headed. Then they just needed to get in front of the cascading buildings and blow it up.
”This plan is madness,” Charlie exclaimed. ”You’ll either end up blowing up yourself or Venice. I’m not sure if I should be horrified or glad!”
”If you have a better plan, do please let us know,” Harry said dryly, raising his brow. When Charlie didn’t comment, Harry nodded. ”That’s what I thought.”
Eggsy glanced around, taking in the sheer size of the ship. ”How are we going to get… wherever we need to get to? This lady is too big to fit very far — no offense, Merlin.”
Merlin inclined his head. ”None taken, and I’m glad you asked. If you would all please follow me.”
The group hurried after him as he led them to a hangar, and Eggsy’s breath hitched as he saw the sleek, gorgeous automobile that was waiting.
Harry stopped by his side and asked, ”I assume you know how to drive, Eggsy?”
Slightly bewildered, Eggsy nodded. ”Yes, sir, although I ain’t driven anything even half as fine as this.”
”I trust you’re a quick learner, my boy” Harry said with a wink and hopped into the front seat with an agility that was way too flashy for a gentleman. Eggsy didn’t complain.
”Roxanne, Percival, come along,” Harry called over his shoulder.
Percival shook his head and shot him an apologetic look. ”I think I’ll pass this one. I don’t think I’d be of much use to you. Besides, automobiles make me nervous.”
As she gracefully lowered herself on the seat behind Harry, Miss Morton gave Charlie a long look. ”So, Charlie, are you going to make yourself useful or not?”
”Yes, fine, I’m in,” he huffed and threw himself in beside Miss Morton, folding his limbs like the automobile was something unseemly and disturbing. After he finally settled, Eggsy could feel his eyes bore into the nape of his neck.
”When you reach the position, press this button,” Merlin said and pointed at a silver button by the left side of the wheel. ”It will send out a signal back to the Nautilus and allow me to lock my cannon on its location. I can fire the missile even without it, but this makes it… safer.” He flashed Eggsy a grin that was nowhere reassuring and patted the side of the automobile. ”Good luck.”
The automobile surged forward with a force that almost made Eggsy lose his hold on the wheel. He grinned and let out a hoot, spying Harry’s amused smile from the corner of his eye. They barely made it outside when the ground shook and they saw a billow of dust in the distance.
Harry leaned close to shout into Eggsy’s ear. ”It has started. Let’s go!”
They sped through the narrow streets in a flash of white and gold, the engine roaring like an enraged animal. As Eggsy had anticipated, it didn’t take long for Valentine’s henchmen to appear and start shooting at them.
Miss Morton let out a frustrated growl.
”I’m taking off. I’ll meet you back at the Nautilus when this is over,” she shouted over the rumble of the engine, and jumped out in a cloud of darkness.
The close proximity made her true form resonate with Eggsy, momentarily distracting him, and the automobile swerved. Immediately, Harry’s hand grabbed his wrist and helped Eggsy to ground himself and regain the control of the vehicle. He concentrated on Harry’s voice, steadily steering him through the narrow alleys and bridges, intent to get them ahead of the cascading buildings.
Both of them decided to ignore Harry’s hand still holding Eggsy’s wrist.
Soon after Miss Morton jumping off, they reached a clearing and Harry saw something that snapped his focus from the street to his side.
”Slow down!” He yelled at Eggsy.
Bewildered, Eggsy lifted his foot from the pedal, and, almost immediately, Harry jumped out.
Eggsy let out a strangled shout and almost drove into a wall as he turned to look over his shoulder, needing to see that Harry was alright.
”Don’t stop! You have a job to do,” Harry shouted and vanished behind a corner.
Before Eggsy had a chance to do anything, Charlie tapped him on the shoulder and shouted, ”I’ll go after him,” before jumping out as well.
Abandoned and alone in the car, Eggsy felt momentarily at a loss of what to do. However, he had no choice but to continue. He gritted his teeth, revved the engine, and took off, determined to get into the position before the whole city was lost.
And he did, it — if only by the skin of his teeth. He made the desperate race into a bank vault that was the last building possible to stop the domino effect, hitting the silver button and barely escaping before the missile from the Nautilus hit and the whole building exploded.
Afterward, when he lay in the rubble, panting in the settling dust and debris and vibrating with the leftover adrenaline, he wondered what the hell he had agreed to.
He had never felt more alive.
It took him a good while to limp back to the clearing where Harry had jumped out because of the wreckage on the streets. At times, he was forced to turn back and find an alternate route, but to his mild surprise, he had no problems finding the right direction again. Navigating to Harry was definitely easier than it had been years ago, and Eggsy was left wondering why. Was it because of the close quarters they had been crammed into recently? Or something else? If so, what did it mean?
At some point, he felt a presence above him, and when he glanced up, he saw the black shadow that was part of Miss Morton’s true form. He figured she was still having her fun, and didn’t bother trying to hail her.
The mental compass pointing towards Harry led Eggsy to the clearing and beyond to a quiet graveyard enclosed within high walls. His instincts screamed of danger, and he didn’t dare to call out. Instead, he closed his eyes and concentrated, spreading his awareness outwards until he met a bright flame of consciousness he just knew was Harry. It trembled at the contact, recognizing him, but something about it felt too fragile, wavering.
Terrified, Eggsy’s eyes snapped open and he started towards the flame, his heart hammering in his chest. He had never encountered a presence quite like Harry’s before, and couldn’t say he knew Harry’s true form in any way, but something in his gut told him Harry wasn’t alright.
When he turned around a giant tombstone, he stopped in his tracks. Harry was lying on the ground, partially leaning on a tree, and a thin blade with oddly familiar handle jutted up from the side of his neck. His shirt was drenched in blood, he was pale and breathing shallowly, but as soon as he saw Eggsy, he tried to stand up.
”No no no no, Harry no,” Eggsy babbled and hurried to his side, supporting him. ”Don’t move—”
”Traitor!” Harry interrupted him with an urgent whisper and his hand shot out to grip Eggsy’s wrist almost painfully.
”What?” Eggsy asked. ”What are you talkin’ about Harry? Lemme call for help—”
”No!” Harry hissed. ”Traitor,” he repeated intently. Then his eyes softened, and he reached his hand to gently touch Eggsy’s cheek. ”My dear boy…” he murmured, almost tender.
Then his eyes rolled over and he slumped against Eggsy.
”No! Harry!” Eggsy shouted desperately, but Harry didn’t answer.
He had no idea what to do. Harry needed help and Eggsy needed to tell someone Harry’s message, even though he didn’t know what the message was. But getting help would mean letting go of Harry and leaving him, and Eggsy was reluctant to do either. He was terrified that Harry would die.
When he heard steps from behind him, he raised his head. Through his tears, Eggsy saw Charlie walking cautiously closer. He stopped and narrowed his eyes.
”What the fuck did you do?”
Eggsy blinked. ”What d’you mean?” He asked, confused. Yes, he had Harry in his arms, but surely Charlie could see it was only reasonable —
”You stabbed him,” Charlie stated flatly.
”What?” Eggsy asked, bewildered. ”No, I didn’t! I found him here, bleedin’ to death!”
Charlie cocked his head and raised a brow. ”Really? Then why does he have your knife buried in his neck?”
”It’s not—” Eggsy started automatically, turning to look at the said knife, and stopped.
It was his knife. It was the one he had noticed missing as soon as he had stepped aboard the Nautilus, but since he had had very little luggage to start with, he had thought he had dropped it in the tumult after the attack on Charlie’s hotel suite.
But he couldn’t deny it was his — it had his initials carved on the handle.
”How the hell is my knife here?” He whispered to himself.
A sudden movement to his side broke Eggsy from his reverie, but he was too slow to do more than just jerk his head up before Charlie backhanded him so hard that his head snapped back and he crumbled to the ground.
”You dirty little prick,” he heard Charlie hiss, and then everything went black.
When Eggsy slowly swam back to consciousness, the first thing he realized was that his hands were bound behind his back and shackled to the wall. The steady thrum of a massive engine told him that he was back in the Nautilus, but he had no idea how. His last memory was from the graveyard.
Blearily, he raised his head and saw Miss Morton sitting on a chair by the door, staring at him with unreadable eyes.
”Why?” Her voice was so quiet that Eggsy barely heard her.
Eggsy blinked, confused. ”What? Why am I cuffed to the wall?”
”Why did you shoot him, Eggsy?” Miss Morton asked, ignoring his question.
Annoyed, he yanked his chains. ”I didn’t do a fuckin’ thing! I found him like that. Why would I shoot—”
”He’s dead,” Miss Morton interrupted bluntly.
Eggsy’s head snapped up. ”What?” He must have heard wrong.
She cocked her head slightly to the side and watched him with a cool detachment. ”You stabbed him in the neck and severed an artery, and by the time we arrived, he was already unconscious. He bled to death on the way back to the Nautilus. Congratulations, Eggsy.”
He shook his head, dazed. ”No,” he protested weakly, trying to clear the ringing noise from his ears. ”You got it wrong. Someone stole my knife— I’d never hurt Harry— Please, Miss,” he whispered.
Miss Morton opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by a loud banging on the door. She frowned and stood up, letting out an impatient hiss. She opened the door only a fraction, but it was enough for Eggsy to catch a glimpse of Percival whispering animatedly something at her.
When she turned back to face him, her eyes were burning in a low flame and the intensity in her stare made shivers run along Eggsy’s spine. She stalked closer, and Eggsy cringed, trying to back away from her.
Stopping right in front of him, she knelt down, and said, lowly, ”Tell me exactly what happened after I jumped from the car.” Her true form was bleeding through the seams, and it was, frankly, terrifying.
Eggsy didn’t know why she wanted to him to repeat his tale again, but he didn’t even dream of questioning her. Instead, he closed his eyes, started from the beginning once more, and recited the events moment by moment, leaving out nothing except Harry’s warning about a traitor. His senses told him to keep quiet for now, and because they had saved his life countless of times, he trusted them.
When he reached the end, he felt wrung dry. Wearily, he opened his eyes to meet a calculating look in Miss Morton’s eyes.
After a moment of consideration, she asked, ”If I let you go, will you promise to behave?”
Eggsy had no idea of what was going on, but agreeing seemed to be the wisest thing to do, so he nodded. Miss Morton gave him a small smile, as if she had read his mind and knelt beside him to un-cuff him. His arms tingled when they were released, and when he stood up, he would’ve stumbled if Miss Morton hadn’t steadied him.
”So… what’s next?” He asked, rubbing his arms to get rid of the pins and needles running under his skin.
She nodded her head towards the door, telling him to follow. ”To Harry’s room.”
Eggsy frowned. ”I thought you said he’s dead?”
The side of her mouth twitched. ”It seems we have some new information. Oh, and you can call me Roxanne.”
Dumbfounded, Eggsy stood still and gaped after her for a moment before hurrying to follow her to the narrow corridor leading up to the main decks. He was about to ask her what the hell was going on when a series of explosions wracked through the ship.
”What the hell?” Eggsy exclaimed.
Roxanne’s eyes were wide and scared, but she gritted her jaw. ”I have no idea, but I’m going to find out,” she said, with fierce determination.
They heard yet another explosion and the corridor they were in started to fill with seawater. They shared a terrified look and started to run.
The whole ship was in chaos.
None of the panicked crew members seemed to know what had happened, other than ”Someone tried to blow up the Nautilus!” They knew that already, so they left the crew attending to the leaks and hurried towards the bridge.
The air around them was filled with the screaming of the injured, the rushing of water, and the groaning sounds of the ship fighting for her very life. Eggsy tried to think back and figure out how many explosions he had heard, but didn’t come up with anything more specific than more than five, less than fifteen.
That was a somewhat large margin.
By the time they finally reached the bridge deck, they hadn’t heard any more explosions. After a long, tense moment, the Nautilus shuddered and let out a long, painful sound, and slowly straightened herself. Eggsy and Roxanne shared another look, but this time, it held more relief than terror: it seemed like someone had managed to fix the pumps.
They both let out a breath when the ship started to rise. It was painfully slow, but at least they wouldn’t drown. Hopefully.
They found Merlin in the library that had apparently been turned into a command center amidst the havoc. It wasn’t flooded, but it was in shambles, and Merlin himself wasn’t much better off. The strain of too many casualties, too many dead or unaccounted for, was visible in the man’s drawn expression.
”Eggsy, Roxanne,” he nodded wearily as they entered. ”Just in time. Roxanne: Percival and Amelia need help with the wounded. Eggsy, as soon as we reach the surface, I need you to climb outside and make an inventory of the hull damage. Jonathon will help you,” he said, waving at a young man waiting by the door.
Eggsy pressed his lips together in a tight line, nodded, and hurried after Jonathon. Yeah, he was dying to find out what the hell had happened to the ship — not to mention to Harry — but he knew that mapping out the damage was more important right now. He would have time for his questions later.
Jonathon, the crewman assigned to help (or more likely to watch) him, assisted him to step into a harness. He attached it to a sturdy rope, and carefully lowered Eggsy down and along the side of Nautilus’s hull. The Nautilus wasn’t taking water in anymore, but she was listing to the side, which meant that even though her pumps worked well enough to keep them from drowning, they were far from working properly.
Supported by the rope, Eggsy walked the Nautilus’s side and saw several holes on her side like ugly, blackened festers. He assumed the damage was similar on the other side of the hull.
Whoever had wanted to hurt her, had known exactly how to do it.
Eggsy tugged on the rope, messaging Jonathon to help him up, and then he repeated his inspection on the other side, silently seething. When he was done, he refused Jonathon’s offer of making notes and hurried back into the library instead. Once there, he asked for and got a copy of the Nautilus’s blueprints and spent a good while marking all the damage on it.
At some point, Merlin wandered closer to take a look over his shoulder and complimented him. ”Looking good, Eggsy. You are very thorough.”
”Eidetic memory,” Eggsy muttered, absentmindedly, never stopping with his work.
After he was done, Eggsy went through the maps with Merlin with painful detail. The captain vibrated with silent rage as he listened to Eggsy’s narration, and when Eggsy closed his eyes briefly, he felt Merlin’s true form burn bright like a sun, filling the whole library.
Whatever Merlin truly was, he was formidable. Eggsy was grateful to be on his good side.
When they finally had time to sit down for a late meal, Merlin tiredly explained what had happened while Eggsy had been contained.
After knocking Eggsy down at the graveyard and waiting for Percival and Roxanne to arrive to help Harry, Charlie had taken off, claiming he would go ahead to the Nautilus to warn Merlin about Harry’s state. He never contacted Merlin, however, but had actually stolen one of the Nautiloid, a small one-man vessel, and fled with the blueprints of some of Merlin’s designs.
It didn’t exactly come as a surprise when both Percival and Roxanne revealed that some of their personal research was missing too.
”It was Charlie who stabbed Harry, acting on Valentine’s orders,” Merlin said quietly to Eggsy. ”Fortunately, Harry is a… persistent bastard, who refused to die out of sheer stubbornness.”
”And that was the new information I was talking about,” Roxanne stage-whispered.
”What,” Eggsy said faintly.
Merlin sighed. ”I’m sorry about the false information, but…” his voice trailed off and he glanced at Roxanne, and they shared a look Eggsy couldn’t interpret.
”It was necessary,” Roxanne said, apologetic. ”We knew something wasn’t right, but we weren’t sure where to look, and until Harry woke up, we didn’t dare to tell you.”
Eggsy swallowed and nodded. ”Can I see him?”
Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but Roxanne beat him to it.
”Of course,” she said calmly, ignoring the audible snap when Merlin closed his mouth. ”Shall we?”
Merlin cleared his throat. ”Now?”
”No point in waiting, is there?” Roxanne asked brightly. ”Come along, Eggsy.” She reached out to tug at him, and he had no choice but to follow or fall on his face.
When they reached Harry’s quarters, Eggsy was feeling nervous for reasons he didn’t want to scrutinize any closer. Roxanne tapped softly on the door and practically pushed Eggsy in when his legs refused to move.
Harry was propped with pillows in a half-sitting position, and he seemed to be sleeping. His face was pale and shadowed by stubble, with dark circles under his eyes. His was breathing evenly, but it was slightly labored. Eggsy didn’t like the slight wheeze he heard.
His musings were interrupted when Harry said without opening his eyes, ”Are you going to stand around all day, or are you going to come in?”
”Tosser,” Merlin muttered fondly and walked up to the bed. ”You look awful.”
”Thank you. Your honesty’s much appreciated as always, old man,” Harry said dryly. Then he opened his eyes and turned his head to look straight at Eggsy. Not trusting his own voice, Eggsy offered him a wan smile and a small wave, earning an eye roll from Roxanne.
”What did I miss?” Harry asked Merlin, all business.
Harry listened to Merlin’s narration about the events leading to the sabotage on the Nautilus, but his eyes never drifted far from Eggsy.
”What I don’t understand is why would Charlie do something like that?” Merlin asked as he paced back and forth, his brow drawn together in a furious frown. ”Why would he betray the League?”
”Probably because he thought there was no such thing,” Harry said mildly. ”And he was right.”
Eggsy shot him a sharp look. ”What do you mean?”
Harry rested his head back against the pillows and sighed. ”Because it’s true. There is no such thing as The Noble Kingsman League. It was an idea Chester had years ago, and most likely it was fueled by his bloated sense of self-importance. I’m sure he had it all planned out with a full set of code names and everything.” He paused and his lips drew into a wry smile. ”His name is Chester King, after all.”
Eggsy blinked. ”Like ’King Arthur and The Knights of The Round Table?’”
Harry gave him a fond look. ”You’re full of surprises, Eggsy,” he murmured. It warmed Eggsy inside out and he ducked his head to hide a pleased smile.
There was a moment of slightly awkward silence until Merlin cleared his throat. ”So… if The Noble Kingsman League isn’t actually real, is it really Valentine we’re after?”
”That’s something we need to think about,” Harry said, closing his eyes. He looked tired, and to Eggsy’s dismay, there was blood seeping through the bandages on his neck.
”The bandages—” Eggsy started quietly, keeping his eyes on the slowly spreading red.
”Yes, they need changing,” Roxanne interrupted. ”You know how to do it, don’t you?”
Eggsy jerked his head up. ”Me?”
Roxanne nodded and grabbed Merlin by the elbow. ”Come along, Merlin. I think we need to plan for the repairs.”
Before Eggsy realized what had happened, Roxanne had dragged Merlin out of Harry’s quarters, and he was left standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. He swallowed, blinked a couple of times, finally daring a glance at Harry. His face heated when he saw Harry was looking back at him with a shadow of a smile.
Eggsy cleared his throat and said, gruffly, ”I’m goin’ to change your bandages, if it’s alright?”
”Of course,” Harry said, turning his head to give Eggsy better access.
He worked in silence, determined to change the bandages by the book, proud of how his hands remained steady when he touched Harry’s skin. When he was done, he felt Harry’s gaze on his face, but refused to look him in the eye.
”Eggsy,” Harry said quietly and reached out to take a gentle hold of his wrist.
The touch of Harry’s fingers sent a jolt of electricity through Eggsy, and he was sure that Harry felt his racing pulse. He didn’t dare to meet Harry’s gaze, but ducked his head to look at Harry’s hand on his wrist.
They shared the silence until Harry drifted off to sleep, still holding Eggsy’s wrist.
Because Merlin was paranoid to the core, he had tagged the Nautiloid with a tracker, and even though the Nautilus was injured and unable to go at full speed, they still were more than able to follow Charlie.
Several days later, when the tracker finally stopped, it was at Asiatic Arctic. In the middle of nowhere. The remaining group stared numbly at the blinking dot on the Nautilus’s navigation screen.
”This is madness,” Percival said quietly. ”We have no idea what we’re facing.”
”That’s true. But we still need to go,” Merlin said grimly. ”Even though we don’t know who we’re after, the threat of war is very real.”
Harry didn’t say anything, just pressed his lips together in a tight line and walked away. Eggsy shot Roxanne an apologetic look and hurried after him.
Ever since Harry had started feeling better, which was way sooner than Eggsy would’ve thought, he had taken up a routine of walking outside on the deck. He claimed it was for the exercise and fresh air, but Eggsy followed him often enough to know that after two or three laps around the deck, Harry usually stopped to stare at the sea. They often stood there together, shoulders barely touching, sharing space and silence.
That was where Eggsy found him this time, just like he knew he would.
”Why are you goin’ along with this?” Eggsy asked. ”You know something’s not right — hell, we all know something’s not right! It’s a trap, and none of us knows if we’re gettin’ out alive.”
Harry sighed and stared at the sea, a faraway look in his eyes.
”You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve sailed to war,” he said quietly. ”Years ago, England and the Empire needed me. I answered the call — I even took your father with me. I led, he followed.” He paused and turned his head away from Eggsy. ”He bled to death in my arms with your and your mother’s names on his lips.”
Eggsy didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
They hadn’t talked about his father, mostly because Eggsy wasn’t sure of how to ask, but also because he didn’t want to bring the ghost of his father to mar the little time he managed to steal with Harry. He treasured these small pockets of private time, the easy quiet, and the effortless way they fit together. He wasn’t sure what it all meant for Harry, but Eggsy knew that he was falling for the older man already.
Oh, Eggsy wasn’t a fool. He knew that men like Harry weren’t meant for the likes of him, not in the eyes of the society or propriety both. But he liked to dream that Harry liked him too, that the small smiles and heated looks meant something.
He was shaken from his dreams when Harry let out a long breath.
”Everything I’ve done ever since, I’ve done to repay him,” Harry said quietly, almost like to himself.
To Eggsy, it felt like a slap in the face. Oh, what a fucking fool he had been!
Staring at Harry in mute shock, he took a step back, then another. It broke Harry’s reverie and he blinked, turning to look at Eggsy with a slight frown. His expression of vague confusion turned into worry and then shock, as if he only now realized what he had said.
”That’s not—” Harry started, stammering, ”I didn’t…” His voice trailed away and he stared helplessly at Eggsy, at a loss of words.
Closing his eyes, Eggsy shook his head and admitted his defeat.
”I understand,” he forced out, letting out a small, self-deprecating laugh. ”I assumed—,” he started and then made himself stop. ”I apologize for any discomfort I might have caused by my actions, sir,” he said formally, fixing his gaze somewhere by Harr— Mr. Hart’s left shoulder. ”It won’t happen again.”
Ignoring the surprise and pain in the older man’s eyes, Eggsy turned and fled.
During the remaining journey, Eggsy made an effort to stay out of Mr. Hart’s way. It wasn’t that difficult because Mr. Hart was a gentleman and didn’t want to start a scene. Trying to force his mind away from Harry back to the proper Mr. Hart was a lot harder.
Because Mr. Hart used the mornings to do his walk on the deck, Eggsy stayed inside to do his exercise routine. He had a sharp eyesight, and practicing to shoot with a rifle in the evenings wasn’t exactly a chore.
He also knew that his and Mr. Hart’s elaborate dance of avoidance and politeness mostly resulted in exasperated eye rolls from Roxanne and somewhat frustratedly pinched look on Merlin. It was just a matter of time until one of them grew impatient, and as it turned out, it was Roxanne.
”Your form is atrocious,” she said, amused, walking up behind Eggsy as he carefully aimed at the target, promptly scaring him to miss his shot.
”Now see what you made me do!” He complained loudly, even though he knew she was right.
Roxanne gave him an unimpressed look. ”Oh please,” she snorted and held her hand out for the rifle. Eggsy gave it with a grumble, but she ignored him, concentrating on the target instead.
”You’re too hasty and reckless,” she said under her breath. ”You have no discipline or patience. You have to… wait.”
The target was so far the Eggsy was having trouble even seeing it, and he seriously doubted Roxanne would be able to hit it. Nevertheless, he watched raptly as she zeroed on the target, her whole body still as a statue, and when her finger gently pressed the trigger, he almost didn’t notice it.
The target ball burst a split second later.
”Wow,” Eggsy breathed.
Roxanne lowered the rifle and bowed her head, seemingly contemplating something. Then she gave Eggsy a look from the corner of her eye, her lips drawing into a small smirk.
”I’m sure that by now, you have already figured out that we are a group of… uncommon people,” she said. ”You’ve seen with your own eyes what I am capable of, and you were present when we captured Percival.”
Eggsy nodded, wondering where the conversation was leading to.
”We are in an extraordinary ship that’s captained by a dragon, and you are not without powers yourself.”
”Merlin is a dragon?” Eggsy breathed. ”That makes sense. His presence is hard to ignore.”
Roxanne nodded. ”It’s also the reason why the Nautilus is so big. He needs to have the space to stretch out his true form every now and then.”
”What about Charlie and Ha— Mr. Hart?” Eggsy asked, stumbling to correct himself. By the exasperated look Roxanne shot at him, he was way too late.
She pressed her lips together in a tight line. ”Charlie is… something I need to take care of. Harry, on the other hand…” She paused and gave Eggsy an assessing look. ”That is not my story to tell.”
Eggsy wasn’t surprised. He had already seen how Merlin and Roxanne acted around Har— Mr. Hart. Oh fuck it, he wasn’t even fooling himself…
He would’ve been more surprised if Roxanne had revealed Harry’s true nature, and he didn’t doubt for a moment that there wasn’t one. He had seen and sensed enough to know that it was something rare and special, but he had no idea if he would ever have the chance to see it.
Or if he was ever granted the privilege to even know what it was.
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, with the full knowledge that he didn’t fool Roxanne even for a moment. She shook her head once, handed him back the rifle, and shouted the crewman to launch a new target ball into the ocean.
”Try it,” she ordered, stepping behind him to correct his form.
Eggsy evened out his breathing, concentrated and zeroed on the target ball gently swaying on the waves.
”Do you know what you’ll learn when you’ve lived long enough?” Roxanne asked softly.
When Eggsy twitched, she clucked her tongue and corrected his form.
”It’s the fact that you will see everyone you love die while you are forced to keep on going. After a while, you turn from real relationships to irrelevant flings, and when they turn into series of faceless bodies with pleasure points, it’s often easier to stop rather than keep on going.”
She stepped from behind Eggsy to stand beside him. ”After burying countless lives alongside countless lovers, you become cynical and scared,” she said quietly, looking at the sunset. ”It would be easier if we were able to forget, but unfortunately, we are often not allowed the luxury. At some point, all we remember is the pain of loss, not the pleasure of love.”
Eggsy blinked, his target forgotten.
After a moment, Roxanne let out a small sigh and cocked her head. ”You missed your target,” she calmly pointed out.
”But— you distracted me!” Eggsy sputtered.
Roxanne grinned as she turned to face him. There was something sharp in her eyes, like they were broken glass, and Eggsy didn’t know how to meet her gaze without being cut.
”It’s called multitasking, Eggsy,” she said airily and patted him on the shoulder as she turned to go inside. ”Keep on practicing.”
When they reached the edge of the ice, they were forced to stop, even though there was still some way to the location of the stolen Nautiloid. After some mysterious surveillance Merlin was able to conduct from the Nautilus, they were facing a grueling journey across the ice plateau. Had the Nautilus been in any condition to dive, they could’ve gone further and broken the ice when they reached their destination, but that not being possible, they had to assemble a caravan of sleds.
Where Merlin had been stashing them, Eggsy had no idea, but he was happy the captain was seemingly prepared for anything possible and impossible. It was a sign of either a formidable leader or a deeply paranoid man or, as in this case: both.
”We are heading towards a fortress,” Merlin said grimly when they were gearing up. ”It seems to be an old castle that has been turned into a war facility. My equipment was able to pick up quite a lot of movement for such a remote place, and I can only guess how much resistance we will meet.”
”Better to prepare for the worst, right?” Percival muttered.
Harry didn’t say anything, just clenched his jaw and concentrated on tugging on heavy furs. They were still avoiding each other, and it seemed like they probably were never going to talk things through. It was annoying, even though Eggsy knew it was probably for the best. If Harry’s allowing Eggsy to tag along the ride was just gratitude, some twisted way to pay back for his dad’s death, then Eggsy had read everything wrong.
Cynical and scared be damned.
The sleds were beautiful: sleek and white, adorned like the Nautilus and the automobile had been. Eggsy had no idea how they were operated, but apparently they required one man to stand on the hinges and steer, and they could fit up to three on the bench.
Merlin chose to operate his own sled, and after a raising a brow at Harry, Harry let out an irritated huff and sat in. Percival sat in one sled and Eggsy in one, but Roxanne gave them a sharp smirk.
”Thank you, but I’m using my own transportation,” she said wryly. ”Follow me!”
She took a couple of steps in a half-jog, then she rippled, and her true form burst into the sky in a swarm of hundreds of bats. They didn’t seem to mind the almost crippling cold, but then, they weren’t exactly common bats. Merlin cocked his head and Eggsy didn’t miss the way his eyes tracked Roxanne, burning with low-level fire.
Now that Eggsy knew how to look, he could see how Merlin’s true form was compressed into the confines of a man-shaped shell, and how his power radiated outward in a cloud of command and brimstone.
In a way, it was a miracle they were even able to breathe so near him.
When Eggsy turned his gaze away from Merlin, he noticed Harry looking straight at him, his eyes intense. Eggsy blinked rapidly and ducked his head. He didn’t know what Harry’s expression meant, and he didn’t want to dwell on it.
Perhaps he would have time for it later. Or perhaps he would just go his own way.
The facility was a huge industrial fortress that loomed in front of them in an almost horror story likeness, with high walls, towers with black windows like bottomless eyes, and chimneys puffing out black smoke like bile. When they reached the side Roxanne had pointed at them by circling around, she was waiting for them by an open door, clad in her usual gown, her red hair donned up, and her eyes shining with cruel excitement.
They tread carefully deeper into the fortress, but the place was suspiciously empty for all Merlin had learned with his surveillance. When they finally ended up in a narrow balcony, Eggsy didn’t even get the chance to properly take in his bearings when Merlin let out a low growl.
”So that’s why Charlie stole the blueprints,” Roxanne mused.
Eggsy stepped forward to look down and his eyes flew wide. In the massive hall, workers swarmed like ants, constructing dozens of copies of the Nautilus. From the look of it, Eggsy suspected that either the blueprints were needed only for the finishing touches, or Valentine had had some kind of an access to the Nautilus long before the assembling of the so-called Noble Kingsman League.
If Valentine was even the man responsible.
”This is outrageous!” Merlin hissed. ”The Nautilus is one of a kind — she’s an explorer, not a war machine!”
”Then I suggest you do something about it,” Harry said mildly.
”I’m going to find Charlie and have a little chat with him,” Roxanne said with a demure smile that chilled Eggsy to the spine. Then she stretched up and let loose her true form, heading towards the high ceiling and soon vanishing from sight.
”Good. Percival and I will take a closer look at those… abominations,” Merlin said grimly, pointing at the fleet of the mock-Nautiloi.
Eggsy swallowed. ”So, that’ll leave me n Mr. Hart to chase after Valentine — or whoever is runnin’ this show?”
Merlin nodded, mercifully ignoring the formal way Eggsy addressed Harry. ”Precisely.” He turned around and beckoned to his crew to follow, leaving Eggsy and Harry alone.
”Great,” Eggsy muttered, avoiding Harry’s eyes.
However, despite his and Harry’s disagreement, Eggsy was here to do a job. He closed his eyes, centered himself, and reached, tapping into his senses. He brushed past the familiar, beautiful flame that was Harry standing by his side, ignored the feeble flickering of the workers below him, and opened himself to find the mastermind behind this whole let’s-burn-the-world plan.
It was hard, completely different from anything he had done earlier, because now he was after the intent without any real knowledge who he was trying to find.
For a moment, he lost himself in the grim history seeped into the walls around him, in the history of grief and revenge, but he tore himself away from it and focused on the now. Slowly, he started to pick up traces of newer influence and managed to siphon it until it was a bright beacon burning with contempt, mocking at him.
”Found it,” he said a little breathlessly as he opened his eyes and swayed slightly, reorienting himself and ignoring Harry’s frown. ”Northeast tower. Let’s go.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Harry open and close his mouth several times as if to ask something and then changing his mind.
He ducked his head, not sure if he was disappointed or relieved.
Suspiciously, they met no-one on their way to the tower, even though there was no way their presence was secret anymore. As they approached the spiral staircase leading up, they glanced at each other with a raised brow, and neither was surprised when the familiar black-haired woman stepped in front of them.
”Gazelle,” Harry greeted her.
She fixed him an intense stare, raised her blades in salute, and descended on them like death incarnate. Fitting, Eggsy thought, considering she was a Harpy.
She was more than a match for them both, dominating the small space of the staircase with ease. It took their combined effort to push her back, but when it happened, Eggsy stepped in front of Harry and shouted over his shoulder, ”Go! I’ll take care of her.”
Harry hesitated only a moment before hurrying up the stairs.
With Harry out of the way, Eggsy was able to fully concentrate on fighting Gazelle. He had the upper hand in the literal sense, as Gazelle was slowly forcing him up the stairs. He was nowhere near as skilled with blades as she was, but he had his senses, and even though he knew it would drain him somewhat, he knew what he had to do. He let her chase him halfway up, then he concentrated and focused all his power on one strike.
His knife flew past her blades, slicing into what seemed to be thin air, but she let out a shrill cry and swayed as the blade sliced through her true form’s wings. It was all Eggsy needed: he kicked her hard on the sternum and sent her tumbling down the stairs.
He didn’t stay to watch and wait, but turned and ran up the stairs after Harry.
As he neared the end of the stairs, he heard voices and stopped to listen.
”Oh please,” someone sneered. The voice was posh and oddly familiar, but Eggsy couldn’t place it. ”Our time is over unless we make sure we are still needed.”
”And that is your justification for a world war?” Harry asked.
Eggsy crept stealthily forward. When he peeked in from the door, he saw Harry with his back to the entrance, pointing a gun at a man sitting on a chair. Eggsy didn’t see his face, but he recognized the gun: it was Harry’s pride and joy, the one he had told that never let him down.
”The war is already coming, whether we want it or not,” the man snapped. ”I was just making sure I was on the winning side, and ’Valentine’ was just the ideal scapegoat to push you into working together. With Merlin’s inventions, Roxanne’s blood, and Percival’s science, it wouldn’t be a problem.” He shrugged. ”I only wish I had known about you sooner. You would’ve made an excellent addition to my selection.”
”My apologizes for falling short,” Harry said dryly and shifted his weight to his other leg. As he did so, Eggsy got a look at the other man and his mouth dropped open.
It was Chester King — the man who had sent them on their mission in the first place.
Mr. King’s face drew into a sneer. ”Spare me your witty remarks, Harry. We both know you’re running from the memory of Lee Unwin.”
By the door, Eggsy froze, both from the words and a blade placed on his throat.
”I’m not running from anything,” Harry answered softly.
”Really?” Mr. King asked. He leaned back on his chair, cocked his head, and said, without looking at the door, ”Why don’t you join us, Eggsy?”
Harry’s gun never wavered from Mr. King, but his head whipped around to look at Eggsy.
Mr. King tut-ted. ”You should know, Eggsy, that you cannot kill a Harpy just by slicing off her wings. You need to shoot her in the head. With a silver bullet. With a gun you don’t have.”
”But I do,” Harry said.
Without the slightest hesitation, he swirled around and shot Gazelle dead centre in the forehead. At the same time, Mr. King flew from his chair with a greater speed Eggsy would’ve ever believed, and stabbed Harry in the neck.
The Harpy died with a hissing sound, drawing blood on Eggsy’s throat as her hold on the life went slack, but Eggsy didn’t notice any of it.
”No!” He shouted, but he was already too late.
As Harry dropped on his knees, he raised his head and offered Eggsy a gentle smile and then, slowly, keeled over.
Behind Harry, Mr. King started calmly to walk towards the door.
”Stop,” Eggsy ordered hoarsely.
”Or what?” Mr. King asked snidely. ”That gun has only one bullet left, and it’s trapped under your precious Harry Hart. You have nothing, so spare me your idle threats.”
”You’re wrong,” Eggsy said in a low voice.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on the flame that was Chester King’s true self. Up close, it was nothing compared to the flames he had seen when he had looked at Roxanne, Merlin, or Harry. It was consumed by envy and spite, and it didn’t resist as Eggsy reached out and closed himself around it.
Mr. King snorted. ”Are you trying to wish me dead?”
”Yes,” Eggsy said and crushed.
”What are you—” Mr. King started to ask, but stopped as his voice choked up and his eyes blew wide. Frantic, he started to claw at his chest and throat, but it didn’t matter. With grim satisfaction, Eggsy bore down the final clench and watched the flame flicker out as Mr. King dampened down.
A feeble sound shook him out of his head, and he hurried to Harry. Mr. King’s knife was buried hilt deep in Harry’s neck, and Eggsy didn’t need his senses to understand that Harry was dying.
”I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry,” he choked, reaching out his hand to gently touch Harry’s bloodied chin.
”It’s quite alright, dear boy,” Harry whispered with his eyes closed. ”It was worth it.”
”No, it ain’t alright! I never told—” he stopped to swallow a sob. ”I never told you…” he whispered.
Harry didn’t answer. He was gone.
Eggsy didn’t know how he ended back to the Nautilus. He had fragmented memories of the others bursting into the room, of Roxanne cradling him as Merlin lifted Harry in his arms, of the cold wind whipping at his wet cheeks as the sleds raced towards the Nautilus. He didn’t remember getting changed into clean clothes or Roxanne feeding him a bowl of soup before tucking him in.
He didn’t remember what he dreamed of.
When he resurfaced, the first thing he saw was Merlin sitting on a chair beside his bed.
”About time,” he said gruffly as he noticed that Eggsy was awake. ”I thought you were going to sleep through all the excitement.”
There was something peculiar in his voice, but Eggsy didn’t have it in him to look closer. Harry’s absence was like a hole in his chest, his constant something Eggsy came to realize only now when he had lost it.
”You can drop me off wherever,” Eggsy said flatly. ”I don’t care.”
”You might want to stick around,” Merlin said pointedly.
”Why?”
Merlin’s lips twitched and he raised a brow. ”Ah… Harry didn’t tell you? He’s a Phoenix.”
Eggsy blinked. ”What?”
”Come along,” Merlin said as he stood up. ”Oh, a word of advice: he’s always a bit disoriented afterward, so don’t be alarmed.”
Eggsy hurried after him, feeling numb all over.
He felt like the world had shifted under his feet and he didn’t know which way was up and which was down. Harry was dead, then he was alive, and —
Harry was a Phoenix?
When they reached the door to Harry’s chambers, Eggsy felt completely unprepared. He closed his eyes and hesitantly reached out with his senses, letting out a shuddering breath as he felt the familiar flame on the other side. It was weak, but getting stronger with every second, and it was as beautiful as ever.
Merlin touched his shoulder and Eggsy opened his eyes, only to realize he was leaning his forehead against the door and that his hand was splayed against the surface, as if he could feel Harry through the door. Sheepishly, he dropped his gaze to the floor and stepped back from the door, ignoring Merlin’s slight amusement.
Without further ado, Merlin opened the door and stepped through.
Before Eggsy had managed to gather the courage to lift his gaze and look, a familiar voice said, softly, ”Hello, Eggsy.”