The Panagea Tales Box Set

by McKenzie Austin

  “Gods dammit!” Penn spun, throwing his fist back to unleash a punch. When he saw that it was Brack, he cursed. “Bloody shit, Rabbit, what the feck is wrong with you?”

  “Bite your tongue, mate,” Brack snickered, shielding his amusement with a well-placed hand over his mouth. “This here’s a gentle bunch, don’t go startling them with that sassy mouth of yours.”

  Penn turned, seeing he had earned the intense stares of the small handful of monks sharing the common space. “Piss off,” he muttered, waving his hand as he took a seat on the floor.

  Rennington smothered his rise of delirious laughter, shaking his head. “Good stuff, Rabbit, good stuff.” When his amusement subsided, he crossed his arms, leaning against a wall. “How’s the quartermaster?”

  “She’s ...” Brack started, finding himself unable to finish his sentence with any shred of confidence. He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “She needs rest. A lot of it. To be quite honest, mate,” the man shook his head, twisting his palms toward the ceiling in quiet exasperation, “I don’t know if she’s going to let her vengeance go so easily.”

  “Yeah.” Rennington turned away, his unfocused gaze falling to a spot on the ground. “That sounds like Bermuda.”

  Unwilling to bring himself down with the weight of his reality, Brack sought a subject change. “Where’s the big guy?”

  “Asleep. I think he’s ... you know ...” Rennington shrugged. “It was easier for him not to dwell on the beast when he was busy helping Bermuda with her shit storm, but ... the quieter the days, the louder the reminders, and all that.”

  Brack procured a glimpse of his comrade, utilizing his peripheral vision as he rested his skull against the cavern walls. “Speakin’ from experience there, mate?”

  Rennington’s head dipped low onto his chest. It had been a year since he last visited his brother’s grave. It was easier to banish the loneliness when he had the illusion of Iani’s presence ... even if it was nothing more than a tombstone, to mark where his skeleton hid below ground. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

  “If you want something to keep your mind off things,” Brack motioned toward the monks, “they’re never far off from an illuminating chant or two.” The Rabbit sported a saucy grin. “Join in with your harmonica. I’m sure they’d love it.”

  From his place on the floor, Penn muttered, “They should spend more of their time preparing some gods-damned meals. I’m starving.”

  “Food’s on the airship, mate.” Brack thumbed behind him. “You want it badly enough, it’s just a minor trek through waist-deep snow in freezing temps.”

  Amused, Rennington pushed himself off the wall, his hands on his hips. “Jokes aside, Rabbit, how long are we planning on staying here? What’s the end game?”

  “No end game. No rest for the wicked, you know.” Brack flexed his arms out at his sides, hitching his stiff shoulder. “I’m hoping the quartermaster will rest for at least a week.”

  Penn huffed. “You and I know damn well she’s going to be back in Northwestern as soon as she can move her legs.”

  Brack nodded, unable to deny the truth in Penn’s statement. “Yeah, well ... I suggest we keep her as stationary as we can.” He glanced down, kicking a small pebble away from him. His tone fell from its usual height of cheer. “She ain’t well, mates. Her body looks like it’s eating itself. If she doesn’t take it easy ... shit, even if she does ...” Brack shook his head, closing his eyes. “All I’m saying is, she’s one stimulant away from fighting with the others over the best spot in the afterlife.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Elowyn sat in her tent, surrounded by the protection of her armor. The Underground was quiet. Save for the random echo of a child’s laughter rattling through the expanse, everyone else found themselves hard at work.

  The women toiled over cleaning the clothing of their husbands and brothers, while others prepared the afternoon meal. Elowyn remained uncertain what the men busied themselves with. She should have been among them. Her injuries kept her contained within her tent. That Wulfgang and the others chose not to bother her only made the guilt living in her chest more tangible.

  An occasional voice would filter into her tent flaps, asking if there was a need for water or medical supplies. Elowyn always said no. She was fine. She was not so broken—not yet rendered unable to retrieve her necessities.

  Healing her injuries was slow. The Time Mother still felt the throb of her pulse in her bullet wounds, but it was not the physical ailments that plagued her the most. Her eyes flicked to the empty flask Wulfgang gave her nearly a week ago. It served as a constant reminder of her mistreatment toward the Underground leader.

  Epiphanies often came in the face of isolation, when the mind had nothing else to do but think. Elowyn tightened her jaw. She kept herself at bay for so long, knowing her presence here was to be temporary. But the members of the Underground were not privy to her conditions. She owed them more than she was giving.

  At the very least, she owed Wulfgang more.

  Elowyn reached over, grabbing the flask in her iron-clad hands. With a grunt, she forced herself to stand, wincing at the pressure that came down over her injuries. A deep breath failed to silence the agony, but it shoved it far enough into the back of her mind that she was able to take small steps forward.

  Lifting open the flap, the woman’s eyes scanned the open space from behind the slits in her helm. She found the source of the laughter in the form of two children, boys, wielding large scraps of pointed rubble fashioned to resemble Eastern’s halberds.

  “I am E.P., warrior of Eastern!” one child shouted triumphantly, puffing out his tiny chest as he clutched his imagined weapon. Layers of cloth engulfed him, with a hollowed-out vessel acting as a makeshift helmet. “This is my territory! Back away from the Underground, invader!”

  A second child flashed a false sneer, digging his invented armament into the ground. “You were E.P. last time, it’s my turn!”

  “Nuh-uh, you were E.P. last time!”

  Elowyn smirked. She was not much for children, but couldn’t help but find amusement in their imaginations. How they fashioned her into some sort of war hero was beyond her. She and the others never warded off any invaders. There were never any threats to the people of the Underground, other than the gods who drove them there in the first place, and the people the gods corrupted.

  But those threats were few and far between now. Practically gone. Elowyn wondered how much longer the people would stay here, living as they did, beneath the surface of the real world.

  She wondered how much longer she’d be staying ...

  Her eyes found the back of Wulfgang’s head. He stood before a small band of five men, looming over a table fashioned from the remnants of the underground project. With a huge breath to goad herself forward, Elowyn hobbled over, careful in her steps. She did not wish to push her broken body too far, but it felt good to get blood flowing in her legs once again. The muscle she had built up from hauling the extra weight of her armor around deteriorated far quicker than it took her to earn it.

  One of the men flicked Wulfgang’s arm with his hand. The leader arched a brow, following his soldier’s gesture to Elowyn as she approached. “E.P.—” He was startled, his face highlighting his surprise. “Good to see you up and moving. I’m no doctor, but I didn’t think you’d make such a fast recovery.”

  “The status of my recovery is ... debatable,” Elowyn murmured, feeling the constant pulsations in her injuries as she came up beside him. Her focus fell to the table, where a crudely drawn map laid. Though curiosity bloomed in her, she needed to deal with the task at hand. “Might I have a word with you, Wulfgang?”

  The man blinked, revealing his surprise at the request. “Uh ... sure.” He glanced at the men, straightening his posture. “I’ll be back, boys. You keep going over the plans, see if you can’t find the best course of action.”

  Elowyn’s metal armor rattled as she hobbled away from the table. It caused
a grim smirk to form on Wulfgang’s face; she caught a glimpse of it as they distanced themselves from the others.

  As soon as they earned enough space to avoid eavesdroppers, Wulfgang slicked his hands through his hair. “What can I do for you, E?” He gestured to the soldier’s injuries. “You need anything? Healing all right?”

  “Yeah, I mean ... everything but my ego.” Elowyn glanced down at her bullet wounds as well, clearing her throat. When she remembered the flask in her hand, she held it out. “I came to return this to you. Thank you.”

  Wulfgang reached out, chuckling a little as he flipped the flask around in his palm. “That all?” he wondered out loud, tucking the container into his pocket.

  “No, I’m ...” Elowyn postured, grimacing from beneath her helm. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking ...”

  “Always a dangerous thing,” Wulfgang quipped.

  A forced laugh left Elowyn’s lips. “Yeah. Anyway ... look, I’m ... I’m sorry for the distance I’ve maintained in the group. I ... have my reasons, but, I shouldn’t have allowed it to put the Underground at risk.” She crossed her arms, then thought better of it, and placed them awkwardly on her hips. “You’ve all done right by me, and we could’ve never gotten this far without you. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

  Her confession earned silence from Wulfgang. His brows fell over his eyes, but for how dark his expression looked, it was short-lived. The man cracked a slow grin, a macabre chuckle following after. “Gods alive, E.P., don’t start getting all sappy on me.” He waved his hand. “Forget about it. It’s over.”

  Elowyn nodded, holding in her sigh of relief. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Thumbing over his shoulder toward the others, Wulfgang shrugged. “The boys and I are planning a hunt. More animals from Southwestern keep trickling through the borders. I shudder to think about how terrible things have gotten there that they’re spilling over so far, but ... some of them are pretty good eats.” His eyes glanced once more to the soldier’s injuries. “I know you’re not at your best, but I know how claustrophobic this shit hole can get. You want in?”

  It was in her nature to turn him down immediately. Elowyn did not wish to stray away from her tent, where the opportunity to make progress waited. If the good doctors of Brendale’s medical facility weren’t going to perfect her formula, she would have to do it on her own.

  Proving to Wulfgang, however, that the words she had just spoken were sincere ... remained a priority. The woman bit her bottom lip. She’d have to attend. She needed to. She owed them some more integration. “Sure,” she said after much hesitation. “I won’t be able to give chase or anything, but if you drive an animal toward me, I can certainly decapitate it.”

  “One good swing, am I right?” Wulfgang smirked, turning his back on Elowyn as he stepped back toward the others. “E’s joining us on the hunt, boys! Get your shit together!”

  Elowyn watched him ready the others. That was it, then. No grudge. All was forgiven. A smile was slow to sweep over her face, but it was the first one she remembered having in a while. Good people dwelled here.

  She was going to miss them when it came time to leave.

  It took some time for her to reach the surface world. Elowyn waited until the other soldiers had crawled through the pipe, not wishing to slow anyone down. Advancing up any surface proved difficult with holes in her body. The medic cursed under her breath the entire time.

  As if the endeavor that was crawling up a feces-filled pipe in nearly a hundred pounds of added weight and injuries was not trying enough, the daylight accosted her as soon as her head hit the outdoors. The burning flames of the Underground’s torches did little to prepare her retinas for the piercing rays of the sun.

  Elowyn pinched her eyes shut, feeling her pupils shrink into microscopic dots. She wished she could have rubbed at them, but the helmet made such a feat impossible. The soldiers were patient. They fanned out, not only to draw attention away from the Underground’s entrance but to fetch the steam cars they needed for their mission.

  Wulfgang’s hand clapped down onto Elowyn’s shoulder. He had chosen to wait for E to surface. A look of wild delight filled him. He ushered her forward, walking alongside her as they crept farther into town. “Word on the street is that the creatures were spotted closer toward Panagea’s center.” He stretched his arms out over his head to mimic a grand size. “Huge feckin’ horns. Ridiculous looking things. Not sure if it’s the same thing we ate last time, but as far as I can guess, it’ll be delicious enough.”

  “The border is far from Brendale,” Elowyn murmured, trying not to dim his excitement. “How do you plan on getting there? And hauling back a carcass?”

  “A couple of the boys down below have some steam cars in their possession,” Wulfgang explained, stretching. “We’re gonna leave enough soldiers behind to keep the women and children safe, but ...” Wulfgang shrugged, an aura of calm amusement taking over him. “Honestly, E, I don’t think Brendale’s ever been as safe as it is right now. I have no fear leaving them, even for the eight days it’ll take to get there and back. I know we’re a speck in the ocean, and the rest of the world is still a shithole, but ... if we can get all of Panagea as safe as Brendale, we’ll be out of that hole in the ground before you know it.”

  The way his eyes lit up when he spoke about it touched her. But eight days—she did not plan on being gone for such a long time. Elowyn pinched her lips together, hobbling alongside Wulfgang as they headed farther into the heart of Brendale. It was a large sacrifice to abandon progress for that length of time. Second thoughts filled her. “Wulfgang, I don’t know if—”

  She stopped, staring past his shoulders. A line had formed. It weaved around the block, and to where it led, she had no clue. Her eyes followed it as far as she was able, but Elowyn could not trace the line to its beginning. “What’s going on here?” she wondered out loud.

  Wulfgang shrugged. “Feck if I know.”

  Curiosity burned at her. For this many people to gather, it had to be something worth knowing. That anything went on in her division without her knowledge plagued Elowyn most nights. Saying farewell to the benefit of having eyes and ears everywhere was one of the hardest things to grow accustomed to in her departure from life as the Time Mother. “I’m going to go find out,” she uttered, taking several steps toward the crowd.

  The Underground leader arched a brow, watching as his comrade shambled over to the line. “Suit yourself.” He turned his eyes to the horizon, waiting for his brothers-in-arms to show up with their steam cars.

  Her broken body made rising to her tiptoes impossible. Elowyn tried to see beyond the sea of heads and shoulders, but to no avail. Though she did not wish to startle the crowd with her aggressive appearance, the woman found her options running low. She edged close to the last person in the line, a woman, hoping to leave enough distance to avoid any threatening feelings.

  “Excuse me,” she started, excited to see the individual in line turn around with no negative reaction to her armored frame, “what is going on here?”

  The woman blinked. It was then that Elowyn realized the cause for her lack of reaction. She seemed to exhibit the same symptoms many harbored under the influence of Elowyn’s pills. “It’s the doctor,” the woman said, her voice absent of any emotion. “I forget his name. Says he’s developed a better pill to keep the gods from invading men’s thoughts.”

  Elowyn felt an emotional punch in her stomach. Her greaves rested over her torso as she gasped. “Dr. Evanston? Was it Dr. Evanston?”

  The woman before her licked her lips. “That ... sounds right.”

  For how sedated the woman seemed, Elowyn felt an unreal elation. It started at her ankles and elevated up into her arms. “When was this announcement made?” she asked, scarcely able to contain her thrill.

  A measured, unenthusiastic blink followed her inquiry. “They made a public announcement this morning,” she explained, her words trailing out of her in la
nguid traces. “Something about a ... trial run ... a new formula ...”

  The rest of the words the woman spoke fell on deaf ears. Elowyn’s fingertips felt numb. A broad smile split her cheeks as she turned away. He listened. The doctor had listened. He took her notes—he must have devised a new formula. If his outcome was successful—if he could keep the gods’ influence at bay without affecting the mental and emotional stability of her people—

  She released an excited screech. It earned her several stares, as excitement was rarely a thing one saw coming from an armored warrior. Feeling almost no pain in her bullet wounds, Elowyn ran back to Wulfgang. He continued to stand, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun, as he scanned the streets for the steam cars.

  “He took the notes!” Elowyn shouted, grabbing Wulfgang’s shoulders. “Dr. Evanston took my notes! That’s, that’s what the feckin’ line is—the people, they’re lining up outside the facility, he’s testing a new feckin’ formula!”

  Wulfgang’s eyes shifted into large disks. “Gods alive,” he breathed, horrified by his comrade’s sudden display of excitement. “I’ve never seen you like this before.” When enough time passed to turn his shock into amusement, the man released an entertained chuckle. “I’m happy for you, E. I know you really wanted that.”

  “I hope it works,” Elowyn replied, pacing before Wulfgang despite the sting in her wounds. “I can’t even sit still. This is too feckin’ big. This could be the cure for all of Panagea, Wulfgang. I hope it works,” she repeated, clenching her fingers into her metal palms. “I just hope it works.”

  “Ah, it’ll work.” Wulfgang snorted, finding E’s unusual display of exhilaration to be comical. “Those feckin’ doctors and their fancy educations ... I’m sure it’ll work. The only thing you have to worry about is him stealing your credit.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Elowyn breathed, an immovable smile stuck to her face. “I’m just excited. Excited for it to succeed.”