Children of Enochia

by Luke R. Mitchell

  I heard the cracking twigs and thudding boots at the same time Johnny did, and we both turned, expecting the worst. Thankfully, it was only Elise, jogging toward us at a pace that suggested she had something important to say, but not quite life-threatening.

  By our current standards, we might as well have called that good news.

  “What happened?” I asked as she reached our log, eyeing us to gauge the emotional air of the conversation she’d interrupted.

  “We just got news from General Hopper,” she said a little breathlessly.

  Johnny was already on his feet. “Freya?”

  “Has been safely extracted from Haven,” Elise said.

  “Where?” Johnny asked.

  “He couldn’t say. He’ll send word again when they’ve established a secure location, but—”

  “What happened?” Johnny said. “I thought we were going to…” He trailed off, frowning like he was trying to piece something together.

  “We offered our help when we first managed to contact Hopper,” Elise explained to me. “He didn’t like the way things were shaping up with the high council moving into Glenbark’s trial.”

  “No kidding,” I said, hardly needing to imagine. Even if some of the Generals had been favorable toward Glenbark’s plight in the coming trial, I didn’t want to think about the level of depraved threats Auckus would’ve been willing to level at them to get everyone in line. With the Sanctum at his back, the greasy scudball had already committed nothing shy of mutiny, after all.

  “Well, I guess he saw an opportunity and took the shot,” Elise added to Johnny, who nodded absentmindedly, still lost in thought.

  “We need to find them,” Johnny said.

  I couldn’t say I disagreed, though I wasn’t entirely sure what use we’d be if and when we did. Aside from adding fuel to the imminent fire, of course.

  Even before Auckus’ mutiny, the alignment of the Legion had already been in danger of fragmenting into several disparate factions. The open attempt on my life in the middle of a Haven crowd had made that clear enough. Now, though, if those Legionnaires who’d been rubbed wrong by recent events saw Glenbark out there, surviving against hostile forces with her band of loyal soldiers… I’d bet hard coin there’d be more than a few companies throughout the Legion willing to break ranks and follow after their true High General.

  The thought stirred up hope and dread in equal parts. Because as nice as it’d be to have Glenbark and a few thousand friendly guns watching our backs again, I couldn’t exactly jump for joy at the thought of escalating from the Sanctum’s war on demons to a full-blown Enochian civil war.

  “There’s something else?” I said to Elise, reading as much in the wrinkle of her brow.

  “Yeah,” she said, her gaze falling to the dirt. “It’s Four and Eight. They couldn’t get them out, apparently. And seeing as Auckus just lost his most important prisoner, I guess he felt the need to make a public gesture.”

  My stomach fell. “What did he do?”

  “He’s moving them to Divinity. It’s all over the reels.” She gave me that look she still used sometimes, when she was afraid something she was about to say might set me back to the Dark Place I’d barely crawled out of after Carlisle’s death.

  “They’re planning to execute them in front of the White Tower,” she said. “Today, at sunset.”

  23

  On the Hooks

  If I’d lived to be as old as Alton Parker himself, I still would’ve been more than happy to never so much as glimpse the White Tower again. Before all this had begun—before Al’Kundesha had killed my parents, and I’d been pulled headlong into an ongoing alien invasion—the gleaming Tower had been something to look to for reassurance. A stalwart symbol of Alpha’s grace and strength. An always visible reminder as to why we tyros did what we did, forsaking normal childhoods so that we could be ready when the time came to defend Alpha’s domain, and the good people of Enochia.

  But that had been then.

  Now, as I stared at the White Tower from the congested air traffic lanes, all I saw was a gaudy monstrosity, erected by thousand-year-old lies and kept in order by a long history of oppression and self-service. Of course, it was entirely possible the Sanctum’s mounting pile of attempts on my life had left me somewhat embittered toward the establishment. But I’d also seen the unholy splendor of the High Cleric’s temporary quarters—the ones he was relegated to while they rebuilt the Great Hall proper.

  So maybe my disgust was at least a tad warranted.

  “Makes you think, huh?” Johnny asked beside me.

  I turned away from the skimmer window to face him. Ahead, in the driver’s seat, Garrett was also eyeing Johnny in the mirror. Beside him, Siren was lost in her own thoughts.

  “Makes you think what?” Garrett asked.

  Johnny loudly and pointedly cleared his throat. “This was actually intended to be a private conversation. You know, for people who haven’t tried to kill us both in the past.”

  Garrett rolled his eyes. “What is it with you kids and hanging on to the past? And I wasn’t even trying to kill you back at the hydro plant,” he added toward Johnny.

  “I think I still have some internal bleeding that disagrees with that statement.”

  Garrett shrugged. “Maybe you should learn to handle yourself in a fight.”

  “Maybe you should stop trying to kill people,” Johnny countered.

  Garrett turned his gaze out toward the White Tower. “That doesn’t seem likely in the near future.”

  “So this is what it’s like, huh?” Johnny asked me. “Being an outlaw, and whatnot?”

  I studied him. “You seem oddly chipper about all this.”

  “Hey, I sorta missed out on the whole renegade hero kick last time around. Can you blame a guy for getting excited? Plus, we might even get to take a shot at High General Creepy Pants. What’s there to hate?”

  “Overwhelming odds,” Siren muttered in the front. “Innocent bystanders.”

  “Sanctum Guard,” Garrett added. “Onyx Guard.”

  “WAN cameras everywhere,” Siren said.

  “And the fact that we received this intel too late to hit them in transit,” Garrett concluded.

  “These two kinda suck,” Johnny whispered to me behind a raised hand, loudly enough that everyone could plainly hear.

  “Still better than Parker,” I said, before I could think about it.

  That sobered the mood in the skimmer cabin right quick. No one wanted to think about our undesirable ally, and how he was drifting high in the atmosphere, ostensibly watching us at this very moment, ready to protect his assets—or to do whatever the scud he decided might suit him best in the moment. Who knew? All I knew was that we’d do just as well to try to forget he was there at all. Because if scud hit the turbines with this rescue mission and it came to Alton Parker sweeping down to carry us off in his clearly alien ship, I was sure I could kiss goodbye to any chance of ever clearing my blackened public image. Assuming I hadn’t already done so and just failed to admit it.

  “Let’s just not grop this up,” Garrett said, and I had the feeling he was having similar thoughts—though maybe more out of repulsion for Parker in general than out of any concern for how this was all going to look to Enochia. But who knew there, either?

  I missed Carlisle.

  But, I reflected as we closed on the White Tower, at least I had Johnny here. One person I could trust without reservation. I could barely bring myself to think about the others right now. The thought of Elise, Franco, and James currently on their way to Humility to meet Burton Kovaks with no backup…

  I closed my eyes, breathing deep and focusing on bringing my thudding heart back under control.

  “Holy scud,” Johnny muttered beside me.

  I opened my eyes, followed his gaze out the window, and saw what he meant. And not just saw it, but heard it as well.

  We’d expected the crowd outside the White Tower would be packed. The Sanctum’s o
ngoing war being what it was, I could only imagine there weren’t many people in the city who wouldn’t like to see a pair of alleged demons strung up in the name of Alpha. But this was more than packed.

  It looked like the entire city of Divinity had gathered. They stood in the shadow of the White Tower, packed shoulder to shoulder. Thousands of them. Maybe tens of thousands. I could hardly tell, other than that they were spilling out of the massive courtyard and into the surrounding streets.

  The air buzzed with the dull roar of their collective voices, easily rising above what I’d originally mistook for the sounds of the air-jammed skimmers all around us. The skimmers themselves were beginning to run out of airspace. Hundreds had already thrown caution to the wind and were illegally hovering over the courtyard, staking their spots for the show to come. The tides of enforcers and Sanctum Guard present didn’t seem to particularly care about the technical traffic violation—either because they’d been ordered to allow it, or simply because they had more pressing issues in trying to keep some semblance of order in the oceanic flow of pedestrians below.

  “So about that escape plan…” Johnny said.

  None of us had to ask what he meant. We’d all known this was going to be hairy. But seeing the sheer mass of it, hearing tens of thousands of good Enochians roaring for demon’s blood and knowing they’d be even more ecstatic to see it be mine… Much as I hated the weakness of that little voice in my head, it was impossible not to acknowledge that we could still turn back—that there was nothing at all stopping us from simply flying away, just another skimmer in the chaos. Nothing but Four and Eight, and the heavy certainty that their deaths would haunt us all if we didn’t do everything in our power to save them.

  Well, that, and the naive little voice that puffed up in my chest to remind me that we were the good guys here, the ones in the right, fighting the good fight. Somehow, the reminder didn’t quell the icy apprehension churning in my gut. Because we were also the good guys who’d come here out of necessity with barely more than a scrap of a plan, and no backup to speak of—aside from an emergency raknoth, of course. There hadn’t been time for anything more.

  By some combination of aggressive maneuvering and a steady stream of cursing, Garrett managed to wrap us around the back of the White Tower and squeeze into a spot among the growing throng of hovering skimmers, more or less above the main stage. At least we were close. Closer than any of us had expected, seeing as we’d planned to land on one of the many high rise buildings that formed the edges of the courtyard. So there was that.

  And there, down below, were Four and Eight, on a wooden stage that had been constructed so that a few of the courtyard’s regal stone columns could rise straight through and provide a handy and elegant means by which to secure waiting prisoners. Four and Eight were each bound to their own columns with thick ropes, and judging by the way they looked to be slouching against their restraints, I guessed they’d either been beaten or drugged until the powers that be had felt safe betting they wouldn’t be able to make any miraculous escape attempts.

  Around them, squads of Sanctum Guard and enforcers held a tight perimeter between the roaring crowd and the stage, which I could see now was in fact a double gallows by the throw levers and the lines of the trap doors beneath each of the ex-Seekers. Luckily, I couldn’t see any nooses on their necks yet, which was going to make my job a lot easier.

  “Okay…” Garrett said, flipping the autopilot on to keep the skimmer hovering in our tight spot. He didn’t have anything to add, apparently, but that one word expressed the sentiment just fine, as did the look he and Siren exchanged before they shared one last kiss.

  Again, I had that unsettled feeling like I’d left my bearings far behind—back in Alton Parker’s cell, maybe, or maybe even all the way back at Carlisle’s funeral pyre. Because here I was getting ready to risk everything to save two veteran Shaper killers, and every bone in my body told me it was the right thing to do. The lines just kept getting more and more blurry.

  Quickly, I dialed my cloaking pendant off and reached down to attempt contact with the ex-Seekers only to find that it was as we’d expected.

  “They’ve got at least one cloaking generator down there,” I said. “Maybe more.”

  My own tools, forged to fight the raknoth, now being used as weapons against me and mine. I’m sure there were a few tomes’ worth of lessons to be learned in there, but for the moment, we’d simply have to press on.

  Johnny leaned over me to glance out my window, then settled back to his seat with a noncommittal grunt. “You guys don’t happen to uh… know their names, do you?”

  Garrett and Siren parted to shoot Johnny a double stare.

  “Why?” Garrett asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Johnny said. “Just seems like, you know, maybe we should know the names of the people we’re about to throw ourselves on the angry mob for.”

  Garrett and Siren traded a look that told me what I’d come to suspect: true, given names were not something the Seekers disclosed on a whim. Or at all, maybe.

  “We don’t know their names,” Siren said.

  It probably could’ve told me something about the oppression of the lives they’d led, that they could’ve worked alongside their fellow Seekers for years and have not even learned their names. But I couldn’t think about that now.

  “Right…” Johnny shrugged. “Well, I guess let’s go save Four and Eight, then. Go team.”

  “Like you have anything to worry about,” Garrett muttered.

  “Oh, I’m plenty worried,” Johnny said, eyeing the swarm of people below before turning back to me and hurriedly clapping my shoulder. “You got this, broto.”

  “Are you ready, Demon?” Siren asked, looking back at me with none of her usual coy air.

  I nodded.

  “Raish,” Garrett said, his voice suddenly thick. “If you don’t get her out—”

  “We’re getting out,” I said before he could finish whatever threat was on his tongue.

  Something in my voice must’ve convinced him I meant what I said, because he drew his lips tight and gave me a curt nod.

  “Sexists,” Siren grunted as she started climbing over the divider into the back seat and slid in between me and Johnny.

  I cracked the door open on my left and looked up at Garrett one last time. “You’re ready to play catch?”

  He grunted an affirmative. I traded one last look with Siren. Then I swung the door open and scrambled onto the roof of the skimmer. Even knowing that I could telekinetically catch myself from pretty much any fall, the sight of the sprawling courtyard crowd far below, coupled with the rush of skimmer-churned air and the lurch of our own vehicle beneath my weight, all added up to one seriously unhappy stomach. I turned before it could get worse and focused on helping Siren climb up after me.

  “Holy scud,” she whispered, clutching to me as she took in the fall.

  “It’s okay,” I said, gently turning us toward the front of the skimmer and scooting forward for the windshield. “I carried four of us down from the Great Hall the night it went up. Two of us is nothing.”

  “Well,” she said, scooting down the windshield beside me, both of us clinging together and moving slowly, “aren’t you just my big strong hero, then.”

  “Just trying to make you feel better,” I muttered.

  “Even though I poisoned you that one time.”

  Scoot.

  “And stunned you the other.”

  Scoot.

  “And—”

  “Can we just focus?” I muttered, edging toward the end of the skimmer hood.

  “Sweet Alpha, you’re actually blushing? Ready to dive feet first into certain death and you’re blushing because you once saw me naked.”

  I drew up to the edge and stopped, mouth hanging open with half a dozen different replies, from a clearly untrue, I’m not blushing, all the way up through, Can you just shut up and be happy I’m still ready to throw myself into the ring for you pe
ople?

  Before I could say anything, she leaned in and kissed my cheek.

  “Never change, Hal.”

  “Yeah,” I said, wiping my cheek off and practically feeling Garrett’s death stare from behind us. “You had to make it weird, didn’t you?” I turned to her. “And since when do you call me that?”

  She shrugged. “Now seemed like one of those just in case we die kinds of moments.”

  “No one’s dying here today.”

  She searched my face, serious once again, and finally gave a slight nod. “Okay.”

  It was the first time I saw it for sure written across her features, but there it was. She was every bit as terrified as I was.

  I wrapped my arm around her waist, and she slung her arm over my shoulders. “Okay.”

  “Anytime now, scudhead,” Garrett’s voice crackled in my ear. “People are starting to notice.”

  I resisted the urge to look around and distract myself with the sight of confused and maybe even concerned Enochians point at us from skimmer windows and the crowd below, wondering what in demons’ depths we were thinking. Of course they were starting to notice. But it hardly mattered now.

  I kept my eyes fixed on Four and Eight, and my mind focused on the plan. The plan that was really so simple it bordered on stupid. Scud, maybe it was just stupid. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even positive it qualified as a plan.

  But it was all we had.

  “Ready?” I sent.

  By way of reply, Siren leaned forward, gathering her legs beneath her. I did the same, keeping my eyes locked on Four and Eight, doing my best to ignore the explosive pounding of Siren’s heart as I gripped her tighter, or the hammering in my own ears.

  “Take me for a ride, Demon.”

  Every muscle in my body tightened.