Shadows of Divinity

by Luke Mitchell

  I resisted the urge to rush out and start snapping my credentials and crying for help. In theory, the four Sanctum Guard were sworn to uphold the laws of the Sanctum and protect all its citizens. But something wasn’t adding up.

  “Well there he is,” the guy in the green jacket said, still smirking as he splayed his hands entirely too casually. “Alpha be praised, right boys?”

  Something about the guy immediately made me want to punch the smirk off his face. But that wasn’t the only reason my insides were crawling. Why were the Sanctum Guard out looking for me? And, more importantly, why in demons’ depths were they looking to Goodfellow Smirks like he was their commanding officer?

  Could Kublich have sent him? He looked like a civilian.

  Demons below, was there anyone I could trust right now?

  At least none of their rifles were pointed at me. Yet.

  “What do you want?” I said, stepping halfway out from the cover of the dumpster.

  “Sanctuary reported a tyro abducted on base,” Smirks said, taking a few steps forward, hands still held at his sides in a nonthreatening gesture. “One Haldin Raish. Some kind of home invasion.”

  I watched his face, searching for any hint of deception.

  “You know the drill from there,” he continued. “Teams were dispatched to find you and bring you home.”

  “I do know the drill,” I said, nodding slowly. “Which is why I’m wondering who the scud you are to be leading a fireteam of Sanctum Guard.”

  That damn smirk didn’t waver as he tapped a few commands on his palmlight and held it up for my inspection. “Undercover patrol,” he said, explaining the credentials that were too far away for me to actually make out on the small display. “Called for assistance when I spotted you and it looked like you were still running from someone. Wasn’t sure if we’d be needing the backup.”

  He took another step. I tensed to run.

  “Look,” he said slowly, almost gently, “I get why you’d be shaken up after getting nabbed, kid, but you’re safe now.”

  He continued closer, moving slowly, like he was afraid each movement was liable to send me flitting for the countryside. That fear wasn’t too far off the mark. Especially seeing as I didn’t trust a single word coming out of his ever-smirking mouth. All I had left to trust were my own instincts. And right now, they were telling me to get away from these men.

  “You know what?” I held a hand up for space and inched out from cover, away from Smirks and the four soldiers. “You’re right. I’m safe. I got away from them myself, and I appreciate your, uh, concern, but I can get home myself too.”

  “You know we can’t let you do that, kid,” Smirks said. “I have superiors too. I can’t just report that we found you, said all is right, and left you to fend for yourself in the streets.”

  “How about this?” I said, still inching backward, mind turning furiously for a plan. “How about you call my father, Captain Martin Raish, and tell him you’ve found me. He’ll send a skimmer for me.”

  The words burned in my throat.

  Smirks turned that over for a few seconds. If he was putting on an act, it was a good one. I actually started to think that maybe he was telling the truth—that maybe these men were simply out looking for an abducted tyro and had no idea what had really happened.

  Then something shifted in Smirks’ expression, and he rolled his eyes, dropping all pretenses. “Okay, kid. Let’s do it the hard way, then.”

  I turned and ran, angling behind the second dumpster for at least a moment’s cover from the four Sanctum Guard rifles at my back. Would they use them?

  I didn’t make it far enough to find out.

  My legs went rigid as boards without warning. My momentum carried me on, toppling face-first toward the pavement. I reached out to catch myself. Or tried to, only to find my arms were likewise paralyzed. Wild panic gripped at my chest, overruled a second later by lancing pain as I crashed into the pavement like a statue of flesh and nerve endings. My arms and face took the worst of it, but there was plenty of pain to go around.

  “Grab him,” Smirks said somewhere behind me. “Hurry it up.”

  I fought to get my hands under me, to keep moving, but nothing happened. Panic returned, swirling in with the pain and yielding fearful anger as I tried again and again to move limbs that were suddenly beyond my control. Boot steps approached from behind. I tried to thrash, tried to cry out.

  It was maddening.

  “I know, I know,” a voice whispered. But no one was there. “Pretty disconcerting, right?”

  It almost sounded like it was coming from inside my own head.

  I struggled with all my might. Not even a twitch from my cursed body. Strong hands grabbed me and began hauling me up. Was I cracking? Had they hit me with some kind of ultra-powered muscle relaxant when I’d turned to flee?

  “Nothing so pedestrian,” the voice said.

  Again the voice was directionless, internal. And worse, I realized, it almost seemed as if it were aware of what I was thinking. As I was yanked upright, I saw it was two of the Sanctum Guard handling me. The other two were still flanking Smirks, weapons at the ready, and Smirks himself looked… vacant. Like he’d gone into some sort of standing trance.

  “Well I AM a bit occupied,” the voice said.

  Ice crept through my insides as I realized what was happening.

  “There it is,” Smirks’ voice said, though in front of me, his lips didn’t move. Some of the awareness seemed to return to his face, and he said, out loud this time, “I’ve got it from here, boys.”

  The soldiers slowly released me. Smirks sank back into his trance, and I cried out as I felt my body take a step forward by its own free will. Or tried to cry out, at least. I couldn’t make a sound. Couldn’t do anything but watch as my cursed body plodded drunkenly along toward Smirks, the two Sanctum Guard flanking me all the way.

  I was powerless—utterly helpless against whatever demonic sorcery Smirks was working.

  So I might as well save my energy for if and when circumstances changed. I was trying to draw into myself, hoping to at least protect my thoughts, when a flicker of movement in the darkness above caught my attention. Something falling.

  No. Not something. Someone.

  Smirks noticed it too.

  “Above!” he barked, snapping out of his trance.

  Not fast enough.

  The dark figure plummeted toward the pavement between Smirks and his men, moving fast enough to splatter to gelatin. Only he didn’t splatter. His plunge inexplicably slowed several feet from the ground like he’d sprung a great, invisible glider. Then he hit the ground, and Smirks and the two Sanctum Guard beside him were all blasted away in some kind of explosive shock wave.

  A gust of unnatural wind slapped at my face, and I staggered back, gaping at the newcomer. Something rippled through me. A subdued shock. Some flicker of familiarity. That gray hair. Those pale eyes. A stab of pain straight at my core.

  Where had I seen this man?

  There wasn’t time for it to matter. He was already darting toward Smirks, who was spitting a curse and scrambling back to his feet, when I realized something of much more immediate importance.

  I’d just moved.

  I didn’t wait to see if anyone had noticed. I threw a hard elbow into the right Guard’s neck, drove a sidekick into his hip, and stepped to intercept as his partner turned his rifle on me. I caught the foregrip of the weapon and lunged forward to try to slam it into its owner’s faceless golden mask. He staggered back, and I followed, punching, kneeing, and kicking every weak point I could until he collapsed against the alley wall. I was reaching for his gun when a pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind and yanked.

  There was no helping it. I was going down. But I caught onto the wrist of whoever had thrown me and managed to drag them down with me. I slammed too hard to the pavement. The Sanctum Guard I’d pulled landed heavily on my hip. I drove a palm into his faceplate and scrambled to
untangle myself. He lunged for my throat, but I managed to get my legs up and catch him at the hips. With his rifle pinned at his side, he wordlessly drew the sidearm from his thigh holster.

  Terror rolled through me at the grim determination of my faceless attacker.

  He was Sanctum Guard. And he was trying to kill me.

  I dropped my leg guard, threw myself forward, and caught his gun hand before he could put a shot in my gut. He cocked back with his left fist, but I was too occupied with controlling his gun hand to do anything other than tuck my chin and raise my right shoulder.

  Not enough.

  The world exploded into a confusing haze of sharp pain and blurry shapes and colors. I yelled, thrashing in a disoriented frenzy. My knee made a solid connection with something soft, and the Guard growled a curse. He raised his fist again… and collapsed on top of me without warning, leaving me pinned on my back.

  I groaned and tried to shove him off, sure that I needed to move my ass. Before I’d budged my attacker more than a few inches, though, the gray-haired newcomer appeared above us, looking down at me with pale, calm eyes. Something clicked as I met his gaze, and my stomach lurched. Memories flashed, hazy and unfocused.

  My parents. Kublich. The gray-haired man.

  He’d been there.

  A flash of blinding light. A monstrous roar.

  What was happening to me? Why was I only remembering this now?

  Grop it. Who or what this man was didn’t matter. I needed to get out of here. I reached for the pistol my Sanctum Guard attacker had dropped, desperate for the advantage. Before I could find the sidearm, though, the stranger reached down and pulled the Guard’s limp form off me with surprising ease.

  The gun clattered to the ground.

  I moved without thinking, snatching it up and rolling away from the gray-haired man. I came to my feet, planted my back to the wall, and whipped the gun up in his direction, expecting to find him bearing down on me.

  He was just standing there, hands held out to his sides, pale eyes calm. He was of medium height, his build somewhat slender. I wanted to think I could take him if it came to a fight, but after what I’d just seen him do…

  Keeping the weapon trained on him, I shot a quick glance up the alley to where Smirks and his two guards lay motionless. At the distant mouth of the alleyway, people were clearly starting to notice.

  “I’m not here to hurt you, Haldin,” the man said, his voice every bit as tranquil as his composure. I glanced back to him. He tilted his head in the direction of the gathering crowd and said, “But we need to leave. Now.”

  I hefted the pistol to remind us both who was in charge. “Not the first time I’ve heard that tonight. Who are you? How do you know my name? And what the scud were you doing at my house tonight?”

  “I’ll tell you everything once we’re safe,” he said, waking his palmlight with a slow, careful movement.

  “Grop that.” I clenched my teeth, fighting the fear that whispered in my ear to pull the trigger and run. “Why would I possibly trust you?”

  “Because I know what Kublich is,” he said.

  My breath caught.

  He touched his palmlight display, and I nearly pulled the trigger out of raw nerves alone.

  “And because I know what he just did to your parents,” he added.

  A flicker of motion above caught my attention. A skimmer descending from the rooftop. A skimmer—I realized as it drew close—that’s rear trunk hatch hung ajar.

  “That was your skimmer I woke up in,” I said quietly, my mind whirling with too many disjointed pieces.

  “It was,” he said, nodding and gesturing for me to get in as the dark skimmer settled down between us. “Because right now, I’m the only person on Enochia trying to keep you alive.”

  6

  Bullscud

  “I assure you, that’s not necessary,” the gray-haired stranger said, with a pointed look at the gun I held trained on him as he drove.

  In the flickering city lights of passing towers and skimmer traffic, I watched his face for any sign of… anything, really. Discomfort. Deception.

  There wasn’t much to see. I kept the gun right where it was all the same. “You’re gonna have to forgive me if I’m hesitant to trust you after…”

  I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. It was all too breathtakingly gropped for me to even voice out loud. Kublich. My parents. The Sanctum Guard trying to kill me. And now here I was, sitting in the skimmer of the stranger who, for reasons unknown, had basically tried to kidnap me barely an hour earlier.

  “Would you prefer I take you back?” he asked softly.

  There was no mocking or sarcasm in his tone. Only… regret? Wistfulness?

  I said nothing. I had no idea what to make of the man. Just like I had no idea what kind of scud storm I’d somehow fallen dead center of. It hadn’t been a smart move, getting into this skimmer. But the scene in the alley had drawn too much attention, and somehow, after everything that’d happened tonight, I hadn’t felt safe waiting around for Legion forces to arrive.

  Of course, I didn’t really feel safe here, either. Hence the gun.

  We’d been lucky to clear the alleyway without half an army on our tail. Whether or not he was aware of that fact, my strange companion had shown nothing but serene calm the entire flight. He practically radiated the stuff.

  “Pretty oddly convenient for you, by the way,” I said, partly wanting to goad him into spilling something, and partly because the silence was killing me, “bumping into me twice tonight.”

  A slight frown creased his forehead. “You have no idea how far from the truth that is.”

  I glanced out the windshield as he guided the skimmer through another turn, noting our location and new heading before fixing my gaze back on his dim shape. “If you’re really looking out for me, why did I wake up in a dark trunk?” I glanced at the empty back seat. “Seems to me like there were less insane options.”

  “I apologize for the shock, but it seemed prudent to conceal the unconscious tyro in my vehicle while departing from Sanctuary. Time was of the essence.” He gave me a concerned glance. “You weren’t supposed to wake up so soon.”

  Indignation boiled up, hot and bitter. “Oh, well so sorry to ruin your plans. Next time, I’ll be sure to be a good little kidnap victim.”

  He only drove on in silence. The man was damn good at silence. It was the last thing I needed right now. What I needed was answers. Maybe the gun wasn’t helping with that—not that my companion seemed overly troubled by the weapon. Still, I was already beyond screwed anyway, right? What could it hurt?

  Everything. But what did that even mean anymore?

  I wasn’t sure. So, with a long breath, I lowered the gun and deposited it in the door’s storage compartment.

  “Okay.” I spread my hands, demonstrating their emptiness. “Okay. I got in the damn skimmer. The gun is down. I’m flying across Divinity with a guy who can apparently jump off buildings and shoot gropping Alpha beams from his hands, and tonight, the High General of the Alpha-damned Legion turned into a—a monster and—and killed my…”

  I stopped, fighting back a wave of lightheadedness, hot tears pressing at my eyes, right on the verge of breaking down in front of a complete stranger. A stranger who, for all I knew, might be planning to finish what Kublich had started.

  Alpha be damned, it had been a long night.

  I wanted to curl up in the skimmer seat—to give in to the exhaustion that hung on my shoulders like a cape of pure softsteel. But I couldn’t give in. Not now. Not with Alpha knew how many legionnaires searching for me out there. Not with my odd companion watching my little outburst with nothing but soft pity in his crinkled brow.

  “You said you’d tell me everything,” I said, dropping his gaze. “So tell me. Who are you? What are you?” I swallowed against the burning ache in my throat, my parents’ faces hovering in my mind. “What the scud is going on?”

  He slowed the skimmer, checked t
he mirrors one more time, then guided us down a ramp to a bay door that looked to lead underground. I glanced around one more time before we disappeared from traffic completely and decided we were somewhere near the southern harbors of Divinity, alongside the Red River. I turned back at the sound of a faint hum to find the bay door opening and my mysterious companion watching me.

  “My name is Carlisle,” he said, guiding the skimmer through the open doorway into a tiny underground lot. “The rest is considerably more complicated to explain.”

  I looked around the dim lot as the bay door crawled shut behind us. The space was cramped and empty. The stranger—Carlisle, if that was even his real name—tapped at his palmlight display, and the wall in front of us parted diagonally across the center and began to slide open with a mechanical hum. Beyond, a tunnel stretched into darkness, just large enough for a skimmer to pass. Unless my sense of direction was more confused than I thought, the tunnel looked to pass beneath the Red River, to the wilds beyond.

  My hand gravitated back toward the gun at my side. “Not to sound indignant, Carlisle, but I think I’d prefer a little more than that before we go flying down any dark tunnels.”

  He chewed on that for a long moment, fiddling with a small, round pendant I hadn’t noticed hanging at his chest. “I’ll try to answer what I can,” he finally said. “Where did you want to start?”

  That was a good question. And now that he seemed good and ready to give me his undivided attention and open up, I couldn’t seem to answer it. As outlandishly overturned as my world had been in the past hours, I was still half-hoping I might just wake up soon.

  Compartmentalize. That’s what I needed to do. Just like they’d always taught us in training. Except I was so far outside of any scenario we’d ever trained that the idea almost kicked a frantic laugh out of me. Compartmentalize? I could hardly form a cohesive thought right now, beyond the drowning rush of one grand question.