by Casey Eanes
“What, sir?” The man at the crane’s controls called back, eyes wide from his cockpit.
“I said lift the mirror! Now!” Seam yelled.
“But, sir, you just had me drop it.”
“I said lift it now!” Seam’s voice ripped from his throat, and his eyes locked on the blood continuing to inch toward the mirror’s edge.
The crane operator gunned the engine, which roared with an explosion of black smoke, ratcheting the mirror off the deck just as Bronson’s blood slipped below the pane of glass. The ship’s captain bumbled over, his face alight with questions. He glimpsed at the mirror. “What seems to be the problem, sir? Did you not want the mirror on deck?”
Seam composed himself and took a deep breath before answering. “Captain, this mirror is of extreme importance, and my Bronson’s blood was about to soil and tarnish it. I need you to have your men cover it and store it away below deck. I will inspect it shortly.”
“Fair enough,” answered the ship’s captain. “As you wish. Come on, men! Drape it and then lower it into the holds.”
Seam stood staring at Bronson as the medic poured over his injury. That was close, Seam, he thought to himself. Too close.
Bronson hovered over a steaming cup of tea with a wool blanket draped over his shoulders. He tilted his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. The fluorescent lights within the boat made him feel nauseous, and his ears would not stop ringing. He rubbed at the thick bandages wrapped around his thigh.
The door to Bronson’s cabin slid open, and Seam stepped into the room. Bronson’s heart pounded, and he tried to swallow the knot forming in his throat. He wanted to sip at his tea and pretend nothing was out of place, but he could not swallow. He could barely breathe.
“Bronson.” Seam’s voice was quiet, and it made Bronson’s skin crawl. “What exactly happened?”
“Um. Sir. I don’t know.” Bronson refused to lift his eyes to Seam. He knew his treachery was about to be punished. “I’m drawing a blank.”
“I need you to think very hard. What did you see down there? How were you injured?” Seam’s brown eyes pinned Bronson to the floor. “The other divers were fine. They said you were the first one down.” Seam’s voice crawled like a predator ready to pounce.
Bronson fumbled for answers as he stared down into the brown tea sloshing in his cup. What do I say?
“Something did happen down there, sir. “
Seam’s eyes squinted. “What happened, Bronson? What did you see? Was it, perhaps, a woman?”
The mention of the woman in the glass stopped Bronson’s breathing as he choked back his emotions. The woman’s pitch black hair and blue eyes were unforgettable, her face burned in his memory. Bronson knew exactly what he had seen, but he shook his head, lifting the brown tea to his lips and taking a heavy slurp. He would not even acknowledge the abomination that he knew was hiding on the other side of the mirror. “No woman, my lord, just a lot of violent waters. The mirror was surrounded by a wall of raging water that was boiling hot. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Once we got close to it, it went crazy. One of the towlines broke loose and must have caught my leg.”
Seam nodded and sauntered closer to Bronson. He turned and looked to the cabin’s door and then kneeled to meet his eyes.
Bronson spoke back up to try and combat the awkward stare. “I don’t understand it, sir. How does an underwater vortex simply appear out of thin air?”
Seam chuckled and stiffened his back. “Don’t you mean thin water, Bronson?” Seam smiled and laughed. “Witches, sorcerers, and other religious fanatics, Bronson. They must have cursed the area where they hid the mirror. But as you can see, with some ingenuity and teamwork it is now safe.”
“If I might ask, my king,” said Bronson. “Why the mirrors? Why curse them? Why hide them? What are they?”
Seam smiled as he stared back at Bronson. The smile made Bronson’s skin grow cold.
“I think it is time I show you something, Captain Donahue.”
Bronson’s heart threatened to break free from his chest as he stood in the central cargo hold alone with Seam and the mirror pulled from the dark waters. Seam pulled back the fabric wrapped around the portal and sighed as he stepped back. He stood with his arms crossed and examined the glass’s smooth reflection.
“They can’t know that they were right, Bronson,” said Seam.
“Uh, who, sir? Who can’t know they were right?”
Seam turned and pointed overhead. “The divers. The divers claimed that they saw a woman.”
Bronson tried to feign ignorance and shook his head. “What do you mean?”
A grin crept across Seam’s face as he pulled back his glove. “Let me show you, Bronson. I would like you to meet her. Nyx. One of the five deities that will be assisting in reshaping the face of Candor.”
Before a word could leave Bronson’s lips, Seam cut his hand and pressed it against the mirror’s edge. The dark hold illuminated with hot, blinding light, and Bronson cursed his life.
Nyx approached the mirror’s edge and looked straight at the High King and then toward Bronson. Her eyes were a crisp, cold blue like the Endless Ocean. Bronson’s whole body shook with uncontrollable fear, and he shielded his eyes.
“High King Seam.” Nyx’s voice sounded like the tides, rolling like thunder. “The Keeper of the Keys. I am glad you have finally come.”
Seam’s eyes dilated with the sound of the Serub addressing him with such respect. “So your kin have spoken to you about me?”
The Serub produced a meek grin and nodded, whispering, “Yes, my Keeper. My kin and I speak of many things, even behind our prison walls. You will encounter no resistance from me, as I know the merit of your cause. I would see Candor at peace. I will gladly aid you.”
Seam smiled and nodded and glanced back at Bronson. “Now you see, dear Bronson, the scope of my plan. The divines will lead our world into a new age, and I alone will rally their power.” He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the iron bracer where all of the Keys of Candor rested.
Bronson’s eyes went wide, and he nodded, feeling as though he could die. There was no more guessing, there were no more secrets. Seam had revealed his intentions and he planned for Bronson to follow dutifully.
Aleph above. For weeks Bronson had only assumed that Seam had one or two of the keys, not all five. I thought I had more time. As his mind whirled through the implications of his new knowledge, the Serub’s eyes locked on Bronson, pinning his heart to the wall.
She spoke, and Bronson knew that his plans were doomed. “You. You were the one who tried to destroy my mirror.”
Bronson’s mouth went dry, the fear of death wrapping around him like a straightjacket. He looked at the High King, but it was as if he had not heard a word the Serub said. In fact, it was as if the High King was frozen, unable to converse or hear anything that was transpiring.
He stared deeply into the ice caverns of the woman’s eyes as time stood still. Nyx spoke, filling Bronson’s mind with an ultimatum. You think me a monster, Bronson Donahue, Captain of Lotte? Bronson could not look away from her glacier colored eyes. They froze everything, even time itself in their tracks. He could not blink, react, or run. He could not move. All he could do was stare, falling deeper into their depths like someone slipping into an icy river. The color of her eyes flickered red for the briefest of seconds before pooling into a blackness that Bronson had never seen on Candor, a dark warning flare that sapped all of the light from the chamber.
Today, you must choose which monster you will serve, mortal. Will it be your precious king? If you remain loyal to him, I assure you he will kill you, himself. I need only mention what I saw in the depths of the Endless.
Bronson felt the pieces moving. He knew she had him in checkmate before he could say a word. He swallowed hard and hung his head. “You leave me with little choice.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The bustling city of Vale gave little notice to the old man shuffling down its co
bbled streets. The man avoided the open storefront windows and kept his head down, his hat pulled over his wrinkled brow to shield his eyes from the burning sun. The only feature about Arthur Ewing that stood out was his new chrome leg that shone like a mirror in the hot sunlight, as well as an annoying alarm that buzzed madly around him, hidden away in some unknown pocket of his thick coat. Ewing scrambled, his hands desperate to stop the contraption, cursing the datalink’s shrill cries. A few Lottian strollers chuckled at him with mild amusement.
“Stupid contraption won’t shut off,” he grumbled as he ducked into an old bank building that had been vacated years earlier. The alarm’s volume only increased when he ducked into the tower’s entrance, its noise bouncing off the walls of a long, darkened hallway. Ewing’s anger boiled under his breath as he fumbled for the screeching datalink in his pocket.
Arthur failed to spot Adley waiting at the end of the hall as he fought to find the mute switch. She rushed toward him with wide eyes and grabbed the device from his hands. In a fluid motion she silenced it, all while ushering Ewing into the quiet, nondescript room at the end of the hallway. Wood paneled walls were the only accent to an otherwise bland room that held a table and a few overstuffed office chairs. Ewing made his way to the nearest chair and wiped his feet on the shabby carpet while Adley cracked the door, examining the hallway before locking the two inside.
“Did anyone follow you?” she asked.
“No one. I’m alone,” Ewing said.
Relief filled Adley’s eyes. She examined the datalink in her hands. “So this is it?”
Ewing was already loading his pipe and grumbled, “Course that’s it. Didn’t you hear the cursed thing? Been trying to shut it up for three blocks now!”
Adley allowed Ewing to take a few good draws on his pipe before she bothered asking any more questions. She examined the small datalink and activated it. The screen blinked with life and indicated a transmission feed was active.
“You’re absolutely sure this one is encrypted?”
Ewing blew smoke out of his nose and glared at her. “Aye, it’s good. Unregistered and encrypted.”
Adley’s eyes did not relent. Ewing threw up his hands in disbelief. “You need to trust me on this, Adley. I have a contact who handles these things for me. Do you honestly think this is the first time I’ve had to be discrete?”
Adley nodded as the last of her reluctance gave way. Ewing came behind her and motioned with his eyes for Adley to accept the incoming feed. With a flick of her finger the screen shifted and revealed Bronson Donahue’s face on the other end.
Ewing spoke through his clenched pipe, a wide smile growing on his face. “I am glad we were finally able to get in contact. I trust since you are answering our call that my driver is safe?”
Bronson’s voice chirped back, the speaker making him sound metallic and tinny. “Arik is fine. He should be back anytime now.”
Ewing smiled. “Let’s not say names on this call. I trust my contact, but it’s best not to take any chances. Good news, we’ve progressed this far. Let’s make this brief. What news do you have? How are things progressing?”
Bronson’s eyes said enough. He whispered, “Things are not good. As you know his governmental power is increasing daily. There is no political infrastructure in place to curb his ambitions, and no will in Zenith will dare defy him. His word is law, and anyone who raises questions. They are...snuffed out.”
Ewing coughed and his eyes narrowed. “What about the glass? What word on that?”
Adley’s brow pinched with questions as Ewing continued.
Bronson shook his head. “He has a majority of them now. Three of the five.”
Ewing sat back and rubbed at his aching leg just above his chrome prosthetic limb. Adley could read the worry on his face. He let out a quick, smoky breath and leaned back over the datalink screen.
“Okay. So there are two left. There is at least that. There is still some time. Where is he?”
Bronson glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “He is here again in Zenith. We just arrived.”
Adley hurried over to the datalink and blurted out the one question that had burned in her mind ever since she had escaped with the others from the Spire. “What about Kull? Did he survive?”
Ewing snapped and threw his arms in the air. “NAMES. No names!”
Bronson blinked his eyes and shook his head, ignoring Ewing’s scolding. “I’m sorry. I have no knowledge of your friend. Any evidence of his whereabouts is gone. I haven’t seen him since the episode in the Spire. I don’t want to imagine what he did to him. I’m so sorry.”
Adley nodded and turned away from Bronson’s face. She handed the device back to Ewing.
Ewing sighed, ran his hands through his hair and rubbed at the wide bald spot at the crown of his skull. He dropped his head and took in another deep breath before responding to Bronson.
“You are doing so much for us. You have my thanks.” Ewing glanced at Adley who was still standing away from the screen, her eyes vacant. “Our thanks. Is there anything we can do to support you?”
Bronson checked back over his shoulder and whispered, “Yes. I need you to hide my family. I need them moved.” Bronson’s voice began to tremble. “I don’t think I have much longer here. Someone saw me do something. Just get my family to a safe place. Please!”
The plea floored Ewing. “What do you mean? I will certainly help, but what is going on?”
Bronson’s face had lost its color and he began to whisper again. “I can’t explain it all here, but one of his allies knows my intentions. One of them saw me try to break the glass.”
Adley spun around and paced back to the datalink screen. “What do you mean? What in Aleph’s name are you talking about?”
Bronson kept checking over his shoulder before giving a quick reply. “No time now. Get your datalink to Wael or Grift.” Ewing winced at the sound of the names, but said nothing. Bronson continued, “We need them. Tell them what I said.” Bronson looked back over his shoulder and the screen went dead.
Ewing and Adley stared at one another as Ewing closed the datalink. He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips as he rolled the last few sentences from Bronson in his mind.
“Adley. This is bad. Very bad. I have to get this datalink to Wael as fast as possible.”
Adley snatched the device from Ewing’s hands. She ran her thumb over its screen and flipped it open. She entered a few commands and the small machine beeped an error code. “It won’t work, Adley. It’s completely locked down. Designed to only operate on a linked channel. One line in; one line out.”
Adley gripped her fists and paced the floor. “Well, how are we going to get this thing to Preost? They have border guards everywhere and they have started monitoring all datalink communications.”
Arthur rocked on his prosthetic leg before taking a few clumsy steps toward the door. He propped himself against the doorframe and looked back at the girl who had been his sole companion for the better part of two months.
“They are going to have to come to us, Adley. I have a feeling they are already on their way, but I need you to trust me.”
“But who is going to come, Ewing? What hope do we have? If they try to cross the border they will be shot on sight.” Adley’s eyes streamed with fresh tears, her mind full of grief.
Ewing dismissed the emotions and took another draw on his long stemmed pipe. “It’s time that we get back to Cotswold, Adley. We need to check on Rose.”
Grift sat alone with his hood pulled up around his face. He kept his distance from the others riding in the van. He was more than happy to let his credits buy him silence and a blind eye. After trekking through the dense forests of Preost, he was relieved to pay for a quiet ride with a traveling band of peddlers that happened to be making a rare pass through Preost. He slipped a small scrap of paper from his pocket and rubbed his thumb over the faint penciled sentence. “Return now. Be quick. -AE”
Ewing managed to get
a driver into Preost and all the driver had was the note. The poor kid had no other details except that he was asked to deliver the piece of paper and make it look like he was coming to pick up some evergreen lumber. He did not know who Rose was or how she was doing. In fact, he hardly knew of Cotswold. The kid’s ignorance had frustrated Grift, but he knew Ewing kept him in the dark for his own safety.
Grift tucked the paper away and glanced around the open hold of the caravan. He never allowed his eyes to settle or lock onto anyone, but he listened to their different chains of conversation hoping to pick up on the news of Candor. It did not take long before he overheard two men chatting about the rebuilding process in Riht.
“Place is crazy, I tell you. Looks like a brand new city.”
“Don’t care. Never stepping foot in the place. That whole Realm is cursed. Still on fire, ya know.”
“Eh. I’ll be stopping by quite regular. The new government forming there means lots of trade with plenty of rich ‘uns.”
The convoy rolled to a stop, and the driver hopped out and called to his occupants. “Sun ‘bout to drop, men. We make camp for the night.”
As the men and women pulled tents and blankets from the caravan, Grift slipped away, plunging deep within the forest. He figured they were about five miles out from the first established checkpoint. He had pored over Wael’s files on the main thoroughfares in Candor. Wael’s scouts had been meticulous, noting the number of troops and patterns of patrolling Dominion soldiers. Grift combined this new data with his own soldier’s field map. Using both, he knew a checkpoint was right up the bend, and he needed to avoid it. He pressed through the dense canopy on foot, trusting his intuition and slipping away from the others with little notice. He traversed through the thick canopy in silence, his heart aching with the realization that he was getting closer to Lotte. The signs that surrounded him confirmed this. The thick pines were beginning to thin out, giving way to a growing number of oaks and maples. Soon, Grift knew that the forest would recede into patches of meadow and fields of tall, lush grass. He kept marching, stopping to check his worn soldier’s map only once. Even in the darkness, Grift knew he was on the right path. The birds’ songs changed from the joyful chattering of the forest to the lonesome calls of the plains; bobwhites, whippoorwills.