Defying Winter (Thieves' Guild Origins: LC Book Three): A Fast Paced Scifi Action Adventure Novel

by C. G. Hatton

  Parish was already walking away, gun up, scoping out the corridor ahead of us, pausing to glance around a corner, gesturing us to wait.

  I was struggling, my hand hot in Genie’s, clammy, a buzz in my ears and focus narrowing. I almost missed what she said, leaning into me to whisper, “Stay with me, Luka, don’t flake out now.”

  Parish started to turn slowly, saying over her shoulder, her back still to us, her voice low, “What did you just call him?”

  As cold chills go, it descended fast.

  Brutally fast.

  I froze.

  “It’s okay,” Genie said, before I could react. “I know you’re all Thieves’ Guild.”

  Time stopped for a heartbeat.

  Then Parish turned fully to face us, her eyes dark, hooded, and as she growled, hard and cold, “I really wish you hadn’t said that,” I couldn’t move fast enough.

  She snapped round her aim and fired.

  One shot.

  One perfect silenced shot.

  Genie fell.

  I think I screamed, yelled, I might not have made a sound.

  I dropped to Genie’s side as her other hand fell and the amulet tumbled from her grasp.

  She’d gone back for the amulet…

  Blood welled from a hole in her perfect forehead.

  I’ve had that moment locked away so tight for so long I’m not even sure what happened next.

  I think I flew at Parish.

  She let me punch the crap out of her until I was exhausted then wrestled me to a stop, twisting my arm behind my back and pushing me into the wall, breathing into my neck, growling, “You do not – ever – tell anyone who you are. Do you understand?”

  I was trembling, numb, cold.

  “Tell me you understand,” she murmured, “or I finish you right here.”

  The barrel of her gun pressed into my neck.

  I didn’t understand and I didn’t care.

  She pulled me back and banged me into the wall again. “Do you understand?”

  “No.” I shouted it through tears. Voice breaking. Throat raw. I think it was the last time I ever cried.

  This wasn’t real. This wasn’t what I was. This wasn’t the guild I thought I knew.

  She threw me to the side and said, dismissive as she turned away, “Get the damned amulet. That’s what you came here for, isn’t it?”

  I staggered and stared down at Genie, lying there, eyes closed as if she was sleeping. I knelt at her side and reached a finger to her cheek, brushing away soft strands of hair. The amulet lay at her side, gemstones glinting in the flickering glow of the emergency lights. I tucked it back into her hand, curling her fingers around it and left it there. I didn’t want it. Not like this. I wanted her. I wanted her to stir and wake up, and beam that smile at me.

  She’d gone back for the amulet, for me. And now it would haunt me.

  My hand was trembling as I stroked the hair away from the soft skin of her face, kneeling there in a dark corridor and flashing back to the dust of Kheris… but her hair was fair, not dark, and this time there was no rescue, no antidote, no friendlies rushing in to help me. She was gone and there was nothing I could do.

  My heart was pounding in a dull resounding void of empty pain. I didn’t care what Parish was doing or where McIntyre was. I squeezed my eyes shut tight.

  Parish’s voice grated like razor wire against my soul. “We have to go.”

  I shook my head without moving. I didn’t want to go anywhere.

  She grabbed the back of my jacket and pulled me away, yanking me backwards to my feet. I spun and punched her again, that empty pain blossoming into a burning anger. She growled, threw me around and hit me in the side of the head with her gun.

  I blinked open sore eyes into darkness, only a vague outline of a shadow across from me visible in the faint light coming in from under a door. I was sitting on the floor, back against a wall.

  The intruder alert was still sounding off in the distance. It felt unreal. My heart was fluttering erratically, either the drugs or shock, I didn’t know and I didn’t care.

  “Get up, we have to leave.”

  I stared up at her.

  She was standing by the door, listening, a gun held down by her thigh.

  Even in the semi-dark I could see her glower at me.

  She stalked over and looked down at me. “One more piece of advice, don’t ever get close to anyone,” she said. “Here…”

  She tossed a small object down to me. I caught it instinctively. The amulet.

  “Keep it. You earned it. Now let’s go.”

  I wasn’t sure I could move but she grabbed me and hauled me up to my feet, pushing me against the wall again.

  I struggled, thinking she was going to hit me but she just pressed me there and murmured, “You want to stay alive long enough to cash that in for your damned points, you need to listen to me. And stop fighting me.”

  I couldn’t. I wanted to break free and lash out again. “Why did you kill her?”

  Parish shoved me, pressing her elbow into my chest. “You’re an asset. She wasn’t.”

  “You didn’t need to kill her.”

  She leaned closer. “You didn’t need to tell her who you are. You don’t exist.”

  That resounded with a dangerous echo. It was what Mendhel had said to me.

  Something inside closed down like blast doors slamming shut.

  I was an asset. It was the guild that owned me. And that’s all I was.

  Her eyes glinted. “Now let me tell you what is going to happen. We are going to extricate your ass out of here. And the news feeds tomorrow will report that Felix Dennison was shot and killed tonight by insurgents, trying to save Imogen Kilkenny, who was also shot and killed by insurgents. What won’t make the news is that one of the best escort girls in the undercity was shot and killed by insurgents. The best damned street doc in the undercity was shot and killed by insurgents…”

  I was getting the picture. “Where’s Sienna?”

  “In trouble. Like the rest of us.” Parish shoved me and let go, turning and muttering, “Stay close.”

  That night was the first really bad extraction I’ve ever had. It wasn’t the last. But it was the first time I really shut out what had happened, decided that was never going to happen again and got hyperfocused. Beyond hyperfocused, beyond shock and denial. I was guild. It was a tab. I suddenly, intensely, beyond anything, wanted those points and I wanted to be top. For Genie. For Maisie. For Charlie. Nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter if they were alive or not. I couldn’t ever see any of them again. But I could run tabs. And I could damn well trash Andreyev’s times in the Maze.

  We moved like ghosts through the fortress. As much as I hated her right then, Parish was good. McIntyre had hunting parties out, aggressively searching the fortress for us, the whole place flooded with troops. We floated through them as if they weren’t there, as if we weren’t there. A couple of times Parish took out guards with a combat knife to the throat as I watched from the shadows. And there was only one time I intervened, whispering a fast, “Wait,” as the back of my neck tingled and I edged forward to spot a trip wire, sensors, auto sentries set up in a crossfire.

  She murmured, “Well done,” pulling me away slowly and we backtracked away from the danger. Back into the fortress and worked our way around and up.

  I hadn’t had so much as a nudge from Spearhead.

  The box was a firm pressure against my ribs, the amulet a heavy weight in my pocket.

  That’s all I focused on.

  Genie had gone back to get it for me.

  And I was damned if I wasn’t going to make it out and get it back to the Alsatia.

  Chapter 27

  We managed to get to the battlements, but as we reached the door that led outside, Parish dragged me back, chaos erupting all around out there, harsh shouts, shots pinging off the stone next to us. UM forces were flooding in, taking back their fortress, and taking on McIntyre with ferocious dete
rmination and an AI on the inside.

  Gunships were sweeping overhead, searchlights scanning, the fortress’s remote weapons installations all along the walls pounding out shots with deafening booms to target enemy ships.

  I flinched back from a stinging, ice cold sleet that was driving in hard from the north in horizontal sheets, battering the fortress, dark clouds overhead in a dark sky, making it hard to tell what time it was. Night. We’d been underground for more than a full day. My cheeks were wet, from the sleet or from my eyes watering, I didn’t know, didn’t care.

  A wave of heat billowed past as a gunship roared overhead. It was one of ours. I was that focused. I could tell from the silhouettes which were ours, which were UM and which were McIntyre’s. From memory, I knew where every defensive position was. I didn’t know where McIntyre was but I knew the AI and the ETs were looking for him as much as he was looking for me.

  Parish was still holding onto my shoulder.

  She was talking to another extraction team, out loud for my benefit as well as sending it through the implant. We were cut off. And I was shivering. Badly shivering. It wasn’t the cold. It was more of an uncontrollable trembling and I had a feeling I was going to flake out any minute and wouldn’t have much say in it.

  I lost concentration for a second and blinked through the driving sleet, realising that Parish was nudging me forward, still gripping me tight, saying urgently, “Negative,” her tone as harsh as her voice, “we have a squad of mercs right on our goddamned tail and this kid is about to drop. We need out. North wall right now.”

  I couldn’t hear the answer she got but she yelled, “Go,” in my ear and pushed me out, keeping hold of my jacket and half dragging me along.

  We ran, heads down, trusting whoever was covering us. I learned that fast. There are times you just have to trust and let go, give in and do whatever the hell they say, no questions, no hesitation, no doubt. It was what Charlie had been telling me all along. As if he’d known this was where I was going to end up.

  We pulled up a couple of times, presumably as Parish followed what the ETs were telling her, and moving when they told us to move. There was no sense of time or distance. That stone walkway reached into an infinity of cold and hurt and noise, the icy wind whipping around us and bullets flying, skimming past a hair’s breadth from impact at every step, just missing my arm, my leg, my cheek as I turned my face into the storm as we ran. It was like I was shielded, protected as Parish had said, as if every one of her good luck charms was working overtime, as if Latia was reaching from Kheris to wrap a spell of protection around me. Every step was a step closer to home.

  Then one of the gunships banked hard and flew in low right at us, not one of ours, one of McIntyre’s.

  The universe spun around. Time froze for a heartbeat as I stopped, staring right into its guns.

  Parish yelled, cursing, dragging me forward as it opened up and strafed the stone wall of the battlements, disintegrating it behind us as we ran.

  The shots were getting closer, stone fragments and shrapnel flying.

  We weren’t going to make it.

  She stopped, yanking me backwards towards her and shouting at me to get down, lifting her gun and firing, each shot deafeningly close.

  I flinched as a louder bang cut through the howling wind, one of the defensive installations slamming out an interception.

  Parish was already dragging me aside as the gunship slewed around with a wave of superheated exhaust. The missile homed in fast, the gunship exploding in a ball of fire that hurtled towards us, hitting the battlements with a shower of sparks and debris.

  The shockwave billowed into us.

  Parish shoved me. I tumbled backwards and rolled, hitting hard against a wall, ears ringing, curling up against a barrage of shrapnel.

  I staggered to my feet.

  Parish was lying sprawled, half crushed under a chunk of debris, unmoving, eyes open and staring in that dead way that is unmistakeable.

  I stood there and looked down at her, no idea how I felt, ice-cold sleet streaming down my face, and an ice-cold spot deep inside. I raised my eyes. There was a pile of burning wreckage between me and the north wall, black smoke billowing upwards, whipped into swirls by the wind.

  I backed off, turned and ran, no plan except to get away, head down, jumping gaps where the battlements had been blown out. I was knocked off my feet twice as ordnance landed close and exploded, curling up and rolling, coming up into a run even as debris pounded down around me.

  You know how I told you Charlie had taught me how to control time, control gravity, control everything just by breathing? As I ran along that walkway, the battle swirled around me in perfect slow motion, every bullet paused in mid-air freeze frame, every fragment of debris frozen in a shower I could duck and sidestep. Invincible.

  One of the remote weapons installations was right ahead of me, pounding out more rounds, the main housing punching down as it carried on shooting at the gunships of the militia forces that were circling.

  I ducked and ran past it, the housing slamming down as I skimmed by, the heat of the exhaust port flashing past my arm, missing me by millimetres. I wouldn’t have cared if it had knocked me off the wall into the sea. I could hear the crashing of the waves, feel the spray on the icy breeze, even this high up.

  There was pandemonium behind me, shouts, gunfire. I shut it out, ignored the pain burning in my chest and ran. It was as if the past two years hadn’t happened… I could have run all night.

  The voice that cut through the storm and stopped me in my tracks was loud, harsh and horribly familiar.

  “Anderton,” McIntyre roared, “you don’t get to win this one.”

  He stepped out in front of me, some distance ahead but unmistakable.

  I staggered to a halt and backed away, the wind buffeting at my back.

  He was standing there, a huge imposing figure, armed soldiers behind him, rifles up and aiming at me.

  I stood my ground and stared at him, took out the box and held it up, waving it at him and yelling, “You want this?”

  “You don’t even know what it is,” he shouted.

  I didn’t care what it was. He wanted it and I had it. I tucked it back into my jacket and took the amulet out of my pocket, squeezing it tight in my hand, the metal edge digging into my palm. All this had cost too much and there was no way I was letting him get his hands on any of it.

  I backed away.

  “You want it?” I yelled. “Come and get it.” And I turned and ran, stuffing the amulet back into my pocket.

  The two shots that took my legs out from under me hit simultaneously, pain flaring, and I was falling before I knew it. I hit hard, wet stone, yells loud behind me, footsteps pounding through the cacophony in my ears.

  A gunship roared up overhead, guild, banking hard to hover right above me, firing a strafing blanket of ordnance into the fortress behind me. It was so close, the immense pressure of its downdraft was painful. I could hardly breathe, could hardly move, but there was no way I was going to get caught. Not by McIntyre. Not that close to safety. I crawled, inch by inch, muscles burning, staggered to my feet, took another bullet in the back and tumbled over the edge of the balustrade…

  I wish I could say I climbed down but I didn’t, I just fell, tumbling down onto jagged rocks and crawling forward to fall again and again, thinking nothing but wanting to be out of sight, out of range.

  I faded out a couple of times and finally came round unable to move any further. It took a while for me to gather enough wits to move the one hand that I could to feel inside my jacket. The strange little box was still there, digging into my chest. I could feel the hard edge of the amulet in my pocket.

  An icy cold wave crashed over me, threatening to drag me under.

  I think I just curled up, closed my eyes and gave in to it.

  I don’t know how long I was there but I jerked awake when I felt a hand on my neck and heard Sienna murmur into my ear, “It’s okay, I’ve go
t you.”

  Hard cold rocks were digging into my back. I couldn’t feel my legs, but my chest was on fire, the sound of waves close but calming, cool spray misting over my face.

  I couldn’t move but I managed to mumble, “Genie’s dead.”

  She settled in next to me and stroked my cheek. “I know, kid. I know.”

  My chest felt hollow. “Spearhead was here. It was Spearhead the whole time.” I sounded insane, mumbling. “It knows DK and the Dennisons are guild. DK is compromised. And Hil? Where’s Hil? It knows Hil was at the school. Where is he?” I desperately wanted to know, needed to know that he was safe back on the Alsatia.

  “Hil’s fine,” she said, starting to check me over and mess on with medical kit. If she was using trauma patches, I couldn’t feel them.

  My throat was raw. “And McIntyre is here. And Con McGoldrick was working with them, and…”

  Sienna took hold of my shoulder to stop me. “LC, listen to me, if Spearhead was here, it’s gone. We can’t find any trace of it. It’s gone.”

  I relaxed back onto the rocks. Maybe I’d hallucinated it.

  Another wave hit close by, ice-cold spray making me blink. Sienna was speaking to the ETs. First time in the field that I was tagged as red.

  I slid my hand into my pocket and brushed up against the amulet. That was real. And I had it. I never got to know what that box was. It disappeared as soon as we got back to the Alsatia and the tab was logged. It didn’t occur to me to ever wonder where it had all come from…

  •

  “What happened then?”

  He glances up at me, blinking, as if he’s forgotten we’re here.

  I lean forward and touch his knee, looking at him, needing him to be okay because if he’s okay, then everything is okay, whatever else is happening. That’s the way it always was on Kheris.

  “Luka?”

  He reaches and touches my other hand, the one that is clutching the kill token Hil gave me. I let him take it.

  He turns it and it lies there in the flat of his palm as he stares at it.