Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  “Rose...she’s dead. She and Eva were killed in the attack.”

  The Mastermonk wasted no time. “Take me to their bodies.”

  Grift nodded and led the monk to the burned out convoy. He came as close as ten feet, but he could go no further. Fresh sobs constricted around him as he fell to his knees. Wael stooped down with him and whispered into his friend’s ear.

  “There are no words for such a loss, Grift. You have suffered much, and much has been taken away from you. May I bless her?”

  Grift nodded, his eyes bloodshot. “And Eva. Aleph knows she wouldn’t have made it this long without Eva.”

  The Mastermonk nodded solemnly. “I will bless Eva as well.” Wael stepped into the convoy and removed from his satchel two white linen robes. Grift moaned, still on his knees, as Wael wrapped them both and hoisted them from the wreckage. As he laid out the covered bodies, he spoke, his voice echoing over the field, filling it with the prayer language known only to the monks of the Order. The prayer crescendoed and suddenly halted, falling into the common tongue.

  “Aleph, Lord of all, these two we commit to you, into your watch. Into your goodness and peace.” Wael turned to face Grift, his eyes filled with resolute purpose.

  “What is your first task, Grift Shepherd? For those you have lost? For Rose. For Eva…for Kull?”

  The mention of his son’s name made Grift almost black out. Grift peered behind him, desperate and destroyed by the death that cloaked him like a casket. Adley and Luken were behind him, standing ten yards away, their heads bowed. Adley fell to her knees, her face marred with sorrow as she finally confronted Rose and Eva’s death. The sight of their covered bodies overcame her senses and twisted a sour knot in her throat.

  Wael walked up to Grift and placed his hands on Grift’s head, his low voice cracking with pain. “What is your first task, Grift?”

  Grift knew the words. He had heard them at every funeral he had ever been to. His lips moved and his voice whispered across the plain, “To bear the dead to their final resting place. To hold them in my heart and to carry on their lives through my own.”

  Wael nodded and spoke again, his voice so low that only Grift could hear. “What is the task for your people?” His eyes turned to look at Adley.

  “To submit my will to their betterment. Thinking always of their welfare before my own.” Grift choked on the words, but they came. They came filled with hope and dread for the last and final question.

  Wael kneeled down, his large brown eyes blazing into Grift’s, demanding that he look into them. “There is only one more question, Grift.”

  “I know.”

  “What is your duty to Aleph?”

  Grift’s body crumpled on the freshly torn earth. He ran his fingers through the dirt and grime, screaming, releasing all the grief and rage that stormed within him. He hit the ground like a madman and cursed with abandon. I will not say the words. I will not say them, damn me to hell. He took them from me.

  The monk would not relent, kneeling like a stone statue, unmovable. “What is your duty to Aleph, Grift Shepherd of Lotte?”

  Grift rose from his knees and stared at Wael. Anger and rage rolled through him like a hurricane and all he wanted to do was slam his fist into the monk’s face for asking the question, for mentioning the name of Aleph. His mind whirled with chaotic energy, roaring with malice. Everything within him wanted to rebel. Wanted to shirk the duty to the god who had cursed him and allowed everything to be stolen from him.

  Yet his mouth moved and the words came, if only in a whimper as his heart refused betrayal. “To honor He, above all else.”

  Wael closed his eyes, and Grift noticed the Mastermonk’s face was streaked with fresh tears. He stood and extended his hands out across the valley, the sing-song language of the monks booming over the plain. The common tongue came and Wael blessed them.

  “In this great loss, it is my prayer that Aleph may bless us all. Bless us all in our loss. In our defeat. Bless these, our loved ones, who have died. We commit them, Aleph, to you. Eva. Rose. Kull. To them we give freely, and with open arms, as you so freely give to us. They are yours again in your hands, in your vision. Until the true Keeper comes to lead us into your restoration, Aleph, we ask for your peace. Your peace. Selah.”

  Dizziness swept over Grift and his head felt light as he forced himself to breathe. The monk had been so quick, so decisive in leading the traditional ceremony, that Grift had no time to prepare himself. The mention of Kull’s name had nearly destroyed him, a fresh wound in his tortured soul. The sight of his beloved covered in a sheet, lying on the ground lifeless and dead ripped the air from his lungs. The realization of his loss was paralyzing. His legs felt like lead and his chest was hollow. The thought of standing was impossible as he dropped his head and wept.

  Wael placed his hand on the top of Grift’s head and murmured a blessing between each painful sob. Wael stooped and settled on his knees in front of Grift and then wrapped his arms around him as Grift let out shuddering moans. The two sat in the green field, embraced in sorrow as Adley and Luken watched from a distance.

  Adley turned to Luken and wiped a tear from her face. She took in a deep breath and whispered, “Let’s give them some more time.”

  “I’m afraid we don’t have long.” Luken’s countenance fell. “The Dominion is coming.”

  Adley turned and motioned for Luken. “Then let’s get the truck and make sure we are ready to move out. Grift just needs some time. Let’s at least give him what time we can spare.”

  Luken nodded and followed Adley and Rot to the truck. Adley hopped into the back, counting the pieces of the Predecessor weapon.

  “It’s all there.” Luken’s voice was short. “Quit worrying about that thing. It is all in there. Now let’s move.” Luken peered over the edge of the truck. “Is there room back there? No way we leave without Rose and Eva. Make room.”

  Adley adjusted the cargo area and hopped out from the truck bed. As she exited, she paused to examine the streets. Dominion soldiers were strewn about, mingled with the wreckage of burned out rooks and shattered buildings. Rubble and debris littered the street from the town hall’s assault. Adley examined the stronghold that had protected her and Grift. Ten-foot sections were missing from the brick walls and smoke was still billowing out its windows and shattered walls. Countless bullet holes covered the brick facade like stars covering a clear midnight sky.

  “Surprised the old thing didn’t give out and fall in,” said Luken as he hopped in the driver’s seat of the truck. “Looks like you have someone looking out after you.”

  “You’re telling me.” Adley spoke under her breath as she climbed into the truck cabin. Rot followed her, lying down in the in the truck bed, exhausted.

  As Luken fired the truck engine, a datalink on the truck’s dash began to beep. Luken threw the truck into gear and groaned as he motioned for Adley to answer the device.

  Adley accessed the message and read it to Luken. “Zone four breached. Convoy is approaching.”

  “How far out?” Luken glanced nervously in the mirrors of the truck.

  Adley read the flashing screen, her face filling with fear. “ETA to visual contact three minutes.”

  Luken punched the steering wheel and shook his head. “They just passed the last outpost. You have any weapons?”

  “No. We used all the ammunition we had defending the town hall. You didn’t bring any?” Adley peered through a porthole to the cargo bay. “We don’t have time. How could you not bring any weapons?”

  “No time to worry about that now,” Luken scolded. “We just have to go. We have three minutes.”

  The truck’s tires spit gravel and dirt into a cloud as it sped through the littered streets and rumbled out over the hills, approaching Grift and Wael. The two were looking over the petite figures covered in white linen as the truck approached. Luken skidded to a halt ten feet from the pair and hopped out of the driver’s seat.

  “Grift. We don’t
have much time. Three minutes. There is another convoy coming. It just cleared the last outpost. We need to go. Now.” Luken’s words were soft but carried urgency in their tone. “I’m so sorry, but we have to go now.”

  Grift nodded and staggered toward the two figures lying in the grass. Luken jogged in front of Grift and put his hand on Grift’s chest. “Let me get her for you, Grift. In your shape right now...”

  Grift smacked Luken’s hand away and growled, “Don’t touch her.” He knelt down to gently lift his lost love and carried her to the truck. Luken followed behind with Eva’s small frame wrapped in white cloth.

  The truck spun out from Henshaw, making its way to Preost, leaving only dust in its wake.

  The Mastermonk and Grift Shepherd? Cyric lowered his binoculars and shook his head, marveling at his good luck. Lose one mark only to gain two. There was still time to make good on his promise to Seam. If he could bag both the monk and Grift, he could double his pay. He got into the truck, smiling to himself.

  Losing Wael had been unexpected. The variable he could not have foreseen was the monk’s ally, the enigma who picked up and tossed jeeps like they were toys. Cyric rolled a cigarette and put it to his lips. It took everything within him not to pursue the truck that was speeding away in the distance. He thought back to the man who had nearly killed him by lobbing his jeep into the forest. Can’t say I’ve ever seen someone do that.

  Cyric flicked a match, held it to his cigarette, and took a long draw. He held it for a few seconds, allowing it to slowly release from his lungs. He savored the flavor of the drag and thought about how he would need to proceed moving forward. As long as the freak with inhuman strength was around, the job would be difficult. Not impossible, but very difficult.

  Slowly, he drove through what had been Henshaw, examining the scene. The scattered bodies of Dominion soldiers surprised him further. There was more to this than one strong man. He counted through the carnage as one might figure sums in grade school. Three rooks. Over twenty soldiers. It didn’t sit right to Cyric. Grift had something else with him to do this type of damage.

  Cyric ran his car down the town’s street, his eyes focusing on anything that could give him clues. He swerved his truck around and stepped out, his boot grinding against the gray gravel street. He approached four Dominion soldiers, reaching down to flip one of the corpses.

  The man had only recently died. His body was cooling, but still warm. There was little blood, which was perplexing. Then Cyric saw it. A single hole had cleared through the man’s chest, right where his heart was. The hole was about the circumference of a large coin, but it ran clear through, cauterizing the wound as the projectile shot through with medical precision.

  Cyric dropped the body and flicked his cigarette out of his mouth. Aleph above. Predecessor tech. He stood, his head shaking silently, weighing the situation. He sprinted to the back of his truck, making a call over his datalink.

  The black screen flickered with life, filled by a scarred, ugly face.

  “Cyric?” The man spoke through clenched teeth as he scowled at the screen.

  “Parker, we need to talk.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “We have to go to Rhuddenhall.” Willyn’s voice was firm as she paced the small command room perched in the rafters of Legion’s Teeth. “We just got word that the capital building has been cleared and the streets are open. No one has heard from Hosp in days and everyone in the Realm knows I have returned. Seam will catch wind soon if he doesn’t already know by now.”

  Bri folded his tattooed arms and shook his head. “Not good to go now. Much danger.”

  “Bri. You’re wise and you saved my life, but you have to trust me.” Willyn squared her shoulders and stared up at Bri. “The people of the Groganlands need me. My people, they are ready to fight. This is what we needed.”

  The words ricocheted from Bri as he pursed his lips and continued shaking his head. Willyn slammed her fist on the old oak table between them. “We need them, Bri. How else will we fight Seam and his forces? Who else will fight the Dominion? We can’t sit here cowering in this mountain.”

  “I don’t like it.” Bri loosed his arms and rubbed at his forehead. “What about demon? That is main job.”

  Willyn nodded and paced to a plywood wall that had a tattered, yellowing map of Candor pinned to it. She scanned the lines of the mountain range stretching between their current stronghold and Rhuddenhall. She ran her fingers over the map and pointed at one of its depressions.

  “Here.” Willyn leaned in to examine the map. “This is the quickest way to the capital. We pack everyone in and we make the journey down the Serpent’s Backbone. We can be there in less than five hours.”

  Bri stepped toward the map and squinted at the path that snaked its way from Legion’s Teeth to Rhuddenhall. The path held multiple pitches and bends but it was wide. The hair on Bri’s neck and arms stood on end as he thought of the massive convoy making the passage.

  “Is there cover?” Bri rubbed at the bushy mustache, weaving his hands over its intricate braids, nervously.

  Willyn shook her head and gathered a few papers from the office table. “No. That is why we have to move now.” She stepped over to Bri and grasped his forearm. “Bri. Please trust me. This is my homeland and these are my people. We have to gather them now if we are to stand any chance. As soon as Seam hears about what has happened he will send his legions into the Red City and burn it to the ground.”

  Deep thoughts wrinkled the giant’s face, but he finally nodded as Willyn sighed in relief. She continued. “I need you and your men to retrieve the mirror, but please be discreet. I will have a rook ready for it to be loaded by the time you get back.”

  “Will it be marked? How do we know which one?”

  “No.” Willyn made her way for the door. “I don’t want anyone knowing there is anything special in that rook, not even the driver. I will meet you in the docking bay and assign a rook to the task before we instruct pilots to load in. Understood?”

  Bri nodded, but his face was pained with concern.

  Willyn stood in the silence of the docking station. Only the sound of her footsteps interrupted the silence as she paced between the few rows of midnight black rooks the Reds had managed to seize. The machines gleamed beneath the overhead work lights, and the hangar smelled strongly of fuel. The machines brought a calm peace over Willyn as she walked among them. She could feel their engines throttle as she imagined them roaring to life.

  “It’s been too long,” she whispered to herself. The noise of shuffling feet disrupted her concentration. She turned to find Bri and one other man carrying the mirror, still wrapped tight under its covering.

  As Willyn opened her mouth to speak, Bri shook his head and placed his finger over his lips. He pointed at the mirror and tapped his ear. Willyn acknowledged the warning and pointed at an open rook. The men lowered the mirror into the cargo hold and sealed the door.

  “It will be safe?” Bri’s eyes carried his concern and did little to hide his fear as he spoke in hushed tones. “Who will drive it?”

  Willyn waved off Bri’s assistant and pulled Bri to the side. She whispered as they moved away from the rook. “I can’t tell you, Bri.” She glanced back at the rook. “I can’t tell anyone. Not now. If anyone knows, then there is the chance of it falling into Seam’s hands.”

  Bri frowned and tugged at his beard. “We need to hide it fast in the Red city.”

  “We will, Bri. We will hide it and then get it to Wael as fast as possible.” Willyn squeezed Bri’s hand. “And I will make sure you stay with it until it is secure.”

  Bri grinned at the offer. “Thank you.”

  The docking station that had laid silent an hour earlier was filled with the rumbling growl of rook engines and humming transports as they cranked to life. The cement box of a room pulsed with the vibrations of the machines. The roar of the room rattled Willyn’s rib cage as she stood over the vehicles on a suspended catwalk.

&n
bsp; Willyn paced down the thin metal riser as her voice called out over the loudspeakers, cutting through the chaos. At the sound of her voice, the engines were throttled back and all eyes turned toward the Sar.

  “This is our time, fellow Grogans! We will hide no longer! Hosp’s lies and the murderous members of our once proud Council will never threaten us again! Our families have been murdered, our houses burned, our way of life shaken to its very foundations! Those seeking to disembowel our proud realm called us traitors! Traitors! I do not accept this. You, my brothers and sisters, are not traitors; you are warriors, patriots. Be proud, for today we will take our Realm back or die fighting.”

  Shouts went up, truck horns blasted through the air, and the men and women below her all threw their fists in the air, pumping their knuckles skyward five times. Willyn held up her fist and bowed her head, her red hair cascading over her face and shoulders. She pulled the long river of crimson back, donned her helmet, and leaned over the railing. “Ride. Do not stop. We ride to our deaths if that be Aleph’s will. We stop for nothing!”

  Willyn jogged down the metal staircase, leapt into the last remaining rook, and fired the engine to life. The rooks echoed the call, screaming with energy. She smiled as her helmet flashed her machine’s diagnostics on her visor. Her rook lifted from the ground, swelling with energy as it hovered in place waiting for the bay doors to open.

  The thirty-foot doors slid open and the midday sun slashed through the holding bay. The Red vehicles flooded through the opening with mechanical precision. Each machine fell in line in an ordered formation, swarming at breakneck speeds down the mountain. They were like a hive of angry hornets spilling into the valley below.

  The Serpent’s Spine soon came on the horizon. Willyn muted her microphone and listened as her commanders reported in. “Raven five on point. Rear guard, call in.”

  “Fox company calling in. Command, please report.”

  Willyn flipped her microphone back to life and answered. “Red Command in place. All companies proceed.”