Archon

by Lana Krumwiede

  The door swung inward, and in the dim light Taemon saw a figure huddled in the corner, his wrists manacled and chained to the wall.

  “Da!” Taemon whispered, rushing forward. He knelt awkwardly, his left leg clumsy beneath him.

  “Da, it’s me, Taemon. I came for you.” He reached forward and gently touched Da’s shoulder.

  Slowly, the figure raised his head.

  Taemon gasped.

  The face he saw was worn and had a heavy, dirty beard. He was barely recognizable. But Taemon would know that face anywhere.

  Only it wasn’t Da.

  It was Uncle Fierre.

  Taemon’s mind spun. Where was Da? Was he in another cell? Why did they need Da and Uncle Fierre?

  Gradually, though, logic kicked in. They didn’t need Da and Uncle Fierre. They only needed one Nathanite to train the archons. And that Nathanite had been Uncle Fierre.

  Da had never been in the Republik. The “Darling Houser” his mam had spoken of was Uncle Fierre, not Da.

  Taemon shook himself. Wherever Da was, he was beyond helping right now. But he’d found Uncle Fierre! He could save him at least.

  “Taemon?” Uncle Fierre coughed, blinking in the dim light. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to get you,” Taemon said. He used psi to remove the manacles from Uncle Fierre’s wrists and felt his own body wither a bit more. “Come on, Uncle,” he murmured through his clenched teeth. “Let’s go.”

  Uncle Fierre was even weaker than Taemon, and the two of them struggled just to get up the stairs. Taemon sent his awareness beyond the door; soldiers were heading straight for them and would be there in less than a minute. He had just enough time to drag himself and Uncle Fierre around the corner to a bathroom.

  Taemon collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving with exertion. They’d made it out of the dungeon at least, but now they were trapped in a bathroom.

  Uncle Fierre tried to say something, but it came out garbled and he lapsed into a coughing fit. Taemon didn’t bother to shush him; the soldiers knew where they were.

  The soldiers were outside now, taking their positions. He could hear their footsteps. He was so tired. So incredibly tired. How would he ever get out of this?

  Skies, he was supposed to be the True Son, and he kept getting himself trapped in a corner. Where was the Heart of the Earth when he really needed her?

  Are you there? Do you see what’s happening? Uncle Fierre’s sick and I can barely walk and I’ve used all the psi I can muster. What do I do? How do I get out of this place?

  He thought he felt something. Maybe, just for a fleeting moment. Then it was gone. He couldn’t say what he’d felt.

  Taemon expected the soldiers to come breaking down the door any second, but they didn’t. What were they waiting for? He heard a disturbance in the hallway outside his door. Clattering. Footsteps. Shouting. More footsteps.

  Be ready.

  The thought came to his mind not as words but as an impression of coiled readiness, of preparing to spring into action. Suddenly the noise in the hallway made sense.

  Jix was in the building.

  A loud roar that rattled the doors and windows confirmed the jaguar’s presence.

  Be ready to run.

  His mind filled with the impression of running, of legs eating up the ground beneath them. He could barely walk. How was he supposed to run?

  The door burst open, and Taemon shielded Uncle Fierre with his body. But it wasn’t the soldiers who stepped through the door. It was Amma, quickly followed by Gevri.

  “Let’s go,” Amma said. “We don’t have much time.” Her tone changed when she saw Uncle Fierre huddled next to him. “Oh, Skies, you found him.”

  “It’s my uncle Fierre,” Taemon said. “Da’s not here.”

  He couldn’t bear the sympathy in Amma’s eyes. “I thought you went over the mountain,” he said, a bit more testily than he’d intended.

  “I convinced Gevri to stay,” she said, looping Taemon’s arm around her neck. “Jix knew you were in trouble. She led us here.”

  “Can you walk?” Gevri asked Taemon as he moved to help Uncle Fierre up.

  “I’m not sure. I can barely move.”

  Taemon tried to stand with Amma’s help, but it was useless. His knees buckled, and he sank to the ground. She had to bear almost his full weight as he did his best to put one foot in front of the other.

  Another roar echoed down the hall, followed by yelling.

  “Jix can’t keep them away forever!” Gevri said. “The back stairwell’s our best bet. Follow me.” In one swift move, he hoisted Uncle Fierre over his shoulder, ignoring the man’s feeble protests. Gevri burst out of the bathroom door and ran down the hallway, Taemon and Amma on his heels.

  Soldiers lay scattered along the hallway. Taemon wasn’t sure if they were dead or merely unconscious; he had enough to do just trying to stay upright. He expected Jix to join them somewhere along the route, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  They reached the outside door, and Gevri stopped. Taemon sagged against the wall, relieving Amma of his weight for a few moments.

  Leaning an ear against the door, Gevri listened intently, then whispered, “This is where it gets tough. I’m guessing there are a dozen soldiers posted at every exit. If we can break through that initial clump of shooters, we’ll be okay.”

  “They’re going to shoot us?” Amma gasped.

  “They’re soldiers,” he said, as though that explained everything.

  “I know, but Skies! Guns!”

  “What about Jix?” Taemon asked. “Can’t she cut through them for us?”

  Gevri shook his head. “I don’t know where she is. I can’t reach her.” He pressed his ear to the door again. “We can’t wait any longer. I’ll take care of the soldiers. Amma, you look for a gap in the perimeter they’ve set up. Once we get into the streets, we’ll have a lot more opportunities to elude them. Ready?”

  “No,” Amma said. “But since when does that matter?”

  Gevri nodded, then burst through the door. He pressed forward, and before Taemon even knew what was happening, three soldiers had fallen to the ground. Gevri was repeating what he’d done on the mountain, throwing psi around like a whirlwind, disassembling guns, disabling soldiers, sending bullets away from their targets — all with Uncle Fierre draped across his shoulders.

  “This way!” Amma yelled, dragging Taemon toward a gap in the soldiers’ formation.

  Gevri ran backward, disarming soldiers and dismantling guns until, at last, the soldiers were out of sight. Then he turned and ran, quickly outpacing Amma and Taemon despite his burden.

  Eventually they reached a hidden glen. “Let’s stop here,” Gevri panted. “I’ve used this place before, and I don’t think they know about it.” Exhausted, they collapsed to the ground. Amma passed around her water flask.

  Taemon checked on Uncle Fierre. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, but he looked pale and dazed. Taemon helped him drink some of Amma’s water. “Just rest for a while.”

  “We can’t rest for long,” Gevri warned. “We need to get to the tunnel as quickly as possible.”

  Amma cleared her throat. “Gevri, there’s something you need to know about Deliverance —”

  Taemon spoke quickly to cut her off. “There’ll be time to tell him about Deliverance later. Gevri’s right: we have to get to the tunnel before someone else gets there first.”

  “But Taemon —”

  “I mean it, Amma,” he said sternly. “We can tell him when we get there.”

  What was Amma thinking, trying to tell Gevri that Deliverance was powerless right now? Sure, he’d helped them escape from the outpost, but couldn’t that have been part of his plan, too?

  “We’ll talk later,” Gevri said. “Whatever it is can wait till we’re on the other side of the mountain. Till we’re free.”

  Amma shot Taemon a deadly look but kept her lips firmly pursed. He knew he’d pay for this once
they got home.

  Once again, Gevri shouldered Uncle Fierre and Amma helped Taemon — though her embrace was a bit tighter than necessary. They moved forward more slowly now, the thorny bushes and sharp rocks impeding their progress, but at least this part of the climb wasn’t very steep.

  “How many people know where the entrance to the tunnel is?” Taemon asked.

  “Just my father. I wasn’t supposed to know, but I came across the map in one of those books I found.”

  Amma stopped abruptly. “The books! Skies, how could I have forgotten?”

  She looked back toward the outpost.

  “You can’t be serious,” Taemon said. “There’s no way we can go back!”

  Gevri frowned. “Go back? What for?”

  “Those books you mentioned,” Amma said. “They belonged to my family. My family’s job is to protect them, to keep them from falling into the hands of people like your father. I can’t just leave them there!”

  “But they’re just books,” Gevri said. “Surely you wouldn’t risk your life for such things?”

  Taemon could feel Amma go rigid. “Books have more value and more power than you can possibly know. They’re certainly worth my life — and likely all of ours.”

  Taemon felt caught in the middle. There was only one thing left to do.

  “I’ll use clairvoyance to see if we’re being followed. If we’re not, we can talk about going back for the books.”

  “But that is insanity,” Gevri said.

  “But Taemon,” Amma said, “what about your —?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, shooting a glance at Gevri. “Just . . . don’t let go.”

  He took a deep breath and gathered his psi, then sent his awareness down the path they’d just come, all the way back to the outpost.

  What he saw — or rather, what he didn’t see — surprised him. There were no soldiers following them on the path. There were soldiers at the outpost, of course, but none of them seemed to be following them. He pushed his awareness further, trying to find Captain Dehue or General Sarin, but he hadn’t gotten much beyond his old cell when a sharp pain tore through his left side.

  He cried out and collapsed against Amma, who struggled to hold him upright.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “I told you not to do it. I knew you weren’t strong enough!”

  Gevri stepped closer. “What is wrong with him? Is he injured? Did my father —?”

  “I’m okay,” Taemon gasped, gripping Amma’s arm tightly and pulling himself straighter. “It’s an old injury,” he said. “It gets worse when I use dominion.”

  “There was talk of such injuries in my father’s books — I mean, in your books,” Gevri corrected, glancing at Amma. “Can you make it all the way to Nathan’s City?”

  Taemon nodded. “I think so. We’ll have to go slowly, but as long as I don’t have to use dominion, I should be okay.”

  Amma glanced at the outpost one last time. “I guess that means no books,” she said, almost to herself. “What did you see, anyway?”

  They turned and started walking toward the entrance to the tunnel, Gevri still carrying Uncle Fierre and Amma supporting Taemon.

  “That’s the funny thing,” Taemon said. “I didn’t see anything. No soldiers, no Captain Dehue. No general,” he added, looking at Gevri. “Where would they be?”

  Gevri had no answer. They continued on up the hill in silence, taking a much straighter path than when they’d been sneaking up on the outpost. The first light of dawn was just beginning to break the horizon when they reached the entrance to the tunnel.

  “It looks clear,” Amma said. “Let’s hurry.”

  But something didn’t feel right to Taemon. It had nothing to do with psi; it was just an old-fashioned hunch that they shouldn’t go into the tunnel. He couldn’t know for sure if something was amiss unless he used clairvoyance, though. He knew it would weaken him even further, but if this went wrong, he could end up dead. And weak was better than dead.

  “Hold on,” Taemon said. He sent his awareness forward into the tunnel. Right away, he sensed something. Several somethings.

  The exertion of it made him drop to his knees, even with Amma supporting him. His vision grew black around the edges, and he fought to stay conscious.

  “Taemon!” Amma cried. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re too late,” Taemon gasped. “There are at least fifty archons waiting for us inside the tunnel.”

  “Taemon, you’ve got to stop using psi,” Amma said. “You could kill yourself.”

  “If we’d gone into the tunnel, we would all have been killed.”

  “No more psi. None, do you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Amma frowned at him. He hadn’t meant to make a joke, but it had just popped out that way.

  They retreated down the mountain a bit and found a clump of trees to hide in.

  Gevri set Uncle Fierre down gently. Unbelievably, the man seemed to be asleep. What had they done to him in there?

  “Fifty!” Gevri whistled. “And all of them archons. I could never overpower fifty at one time.”

  “Is Jix nearby?” Amma asked. “Maybe she could clear the tunnel for us.”

  Gevri paused a moment, then shook his head. “I still can’t feel her. She won’t join us if she thinks people are following her.”

  “We can’t wait forever,” Taemon said. “The archons will eventually start searching the mountain when we don’t show up at the tunnel.”

  “We have to find another way over the mountain,” Gevri said.

  “Even if we could find a gap — and I doubt there is one — we’re not prepared for mountain climbing. Uncle Fierre’s sick and I’m not exactly up to it.”

  “I have an idea,” Amma said, and Taemon could practically see the gears turning in her head. “My brothers used to make kites, huge kites, and fly them by the side of the mountain, where the drafts are strongest. Sometimes they even strapped themselves into the kite and flew, which Mam hated. Anyway,” she continued, “if we can build kites, then Gevri can use psi or dominion or whatever to steer us over the mountain.”

  “It would take far too long to build kites,” Gevri said, “even if we knew how. Which we don’t.”

  “Taemon can build anything. All I’d have to do is describe what my brothers did, and he could figure it out.” Amma smiled.

  “Maybe he used to do stuff like that,” Gevri said. “But he doesn’t really seem capable of doing much now.”

  Taemon bristled at the insult, but he was hardly in a position to contradict him.

  Amma frowned. “What if Taemon showed you how to do it? You use dominion to construct the kites while Taemon figures out how to make them work. He doesn’t need psi to do that much.”

  Gevri frowned. “I’ve never done anything like that before. My father trained me for military ops, not for building toys.”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Amma asked hotly.

  “You’ll have to draw a picture for me,” Taemon said, breaking the awkward silence. “A really good picture.”

  Amma smiled with relief and scrambled to find a stick for drawing. “We’ll need two kites — big ones, since we’ll be doubling up. We can use the tarps we put under our bedrolls for the wings. Here, look at this.”

  Taemon watched while Amma sketched out her ideas in the dirt, all the while thinking about materials he could use. There were plenty of saplings that were flexible and strong. The scrubby vines that grew along the streambeds could be braided into rope. This might just be possible. But could Gevri assemble the kites exactly as Taemon instructed?

  Amma drew the kite in its entirety while Taemon explained how the joints and lashes would hold together. Gevri looked over their shoulders.

  “You have to get this all firmly in mind,” Taemon said. “Every detail. All at one time.”

  Gevri studied the drawing again and asked Amma for a few more details.

  Taemon glanced over his shoulder and
saw Gevri looking back toward the outpost. “Pay attention. Every detail matters.”

  “I hope Jix comes soon. We can’t leave her behind.”

  “We may not have a choice,” Taemon said.

  “I can’t,” Gevri whispered.

  Amma paused her sketching. “She’ll come.”

  Gevri turned back to the sketch.

  When Gevri had a good grasp of the kite Amma had designed, Taemon pointed to the materials he would need. “You can tag them mentally with dominion right now,” Taemon said. “It will make it easier to put everything together later. Connect to them; talk to them. It’s like telling them to be ready, to wait for your order.”

  But Gevri seemed distracted.

  Taemon frowned. “You can’t think about Jix right now. Don’t think about the soldiers, either. You have to clear your mind of everything but the kites.”

  Gevri scowled. “That may be how dominion works in Nathan’s City, but here in the Republik, we tap into our strongest emotions to make our dominion more powerful. Worrying about Jix and the soldiers is exactly what I need to be doing.”

  The image of the archon army training in the gymnasium came to Taemon’s mind. What Gevri had just revealed about dominion explained a great deal. “That may make your dominion more powerful, but I bet it also makes it less precise. Am I right?” Taemon asked.

  Gevri clenched his jaw but didn’t disagree.

  “Just try to relax and focus on the objects you’ll need,” Taemon said, a bit more gently this time.

  Amma walked over to Gevri and placed a hand on his arm. “Let’s build the kites. Then we’ll worry about Jix.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Gevri took a deep breath. “I’m ready.” He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. When he opened his eyes, the saplings snapped themselves from their roots and stripped themselves of their branches. Vines braided together to form ropes. Wood shaped and bent itself, and vines lashed it all together. The tarps wrapped themselves around the frames, with vine ropes lacing them in place. Finally, Gevri added the vine ropes for harnesses.

  Two large, fully assembled kites lay before them. The process had been noisier and messier than if Taemon had done it, but at least it had been quick.