Shadows of Divinity

by Luke Mitchell

  To my surprise, Carlisle didn’t deny it.

  “So the story goes,” he said. “The order of the clerics took charge, and the surviving Emmútari were hunted for the rest of their days. Thankfully, some of them found new generations of gifted and decided to pass on what knowledge they could. The art became known as Shaping, and those teachings trickled from generation to generation until I heard all of this from Cassius.”

  “And now I’m hearing it from you.”

  “So it continues.” He smiled. “Perhaps this means I’ve served my purpose.”

  “I dunno. I might need you around for another few days, at least.”

  Joking aside, his story disturbed me. Not because I believed it, necessarily. It was more just that I couldn’t see a better explanation for why the Sanctum would be hunting Shapers in the shadows. And if there was one thing I couldn’t deny anymore, it was that Shaping was absolutely not a wild figment of my imagination.

  Still, it was hard to believe something as monumental as an entire world order of Shapers—or Emmútari, or whatever—could be so completely burned from history. Even if it had been a long, long time ago. And even if it was the all-powerful Sanctum we were talking about.

  “How could the Sanctum and the Legion not know about all of this?”

  “Perhaps some of them do,” Carlisle said. “Surely the clerics overseeing the Seeker core have at least some inkling of the truth.” He cocked his head. “Though, to be fair, I can’t pretend I’m positive our version is the complete truth either. What we know for sure is that we are the ones being hunted. And it’s clear enough that Sarentus held the pen of history. Is it so hard to imagine the Sanctum’s story is… incomplete?”

  “I…”

  I didn’t know what to say to that—what to even think about any of it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Better to focus on the threats I could be sure of for now.

  “How are we even supposed to use our abilities out there if dropping our cloaks is going to light us up for any nearby Seekers or raknoth?”

  Thankfully, Carlisle didn’t seem to mind my changing the subject. “A valid question,” he said, rising to go rummage in the workbench drawers. “I think the time has come for you to wear this.”

  He tossed a small something my way.

  Another pendant, with equally cryptic runes etched across its surface. I traced my finger over a series of notches that progressively increased in length around the circumference of the disk, like an antique volume dial.

  “Is this a signal booster or something?”

  “Sort of the opposite, actually. When the dial is at the maximum setting, this rune will cloak you as tightly as your current pendant does. As you dial it down, though, the cloaked area expands like a bubble, effectively increasing your sphere of influence without opening yourself to everything else outside.”

  “So it’s kind of like an intensity setting, then.” I frowned. “Except, isn’t that kind of backwards? The longest notches mean I’m fully cloaked? I’d think that should mean the cloak is fully extended.”

  “You’re quite free to make your own variable range cloaking pendant if mine is unsatisfactory.”

  I swapped the old pendant out for the new with a sheepish smile. “I guess this old clunker will have to do. What kind of range are we talking about at max—sorry, at minimum—setting?”

  Carlisle rolled his eyes and mumbled something about ungrateful teenagers under his breath.

  “That one should give you a range of about forty feet. You can deactivate it completely if you need to go further. And I should also point out that extending the cloaked area will require more energy. You noticed your old pendant was cool to the touch when active, yes?”

  “Because it was drawing energy to form the cloak?”

  I tried to say it as if I hadn’t just then realized it.

  “Indeed. When activated, these pendants absorb heat from their surroundings to generate the cloaking field. It’s a minor effect when the field’s small, but as the field grows, the heat requirements grow significantly.” He tapped the pendant resting over his tunic. “Direct skin contact can get uncomfortable.”

  That was fine by me. Getting the chills wasn’t a bad compromise for being able to use my abilities without completely exposing myself. Curious, I dialed the cloak out as far as it would go.

  Within seconds, the pendant was icy cold. Not totally unbearable, but I could see what Carlisle meant about direct skin contact. By the time I dialed the cloak back in, the air around me had grown a few degrees cooler, too.

  “Pretty damn cool.”

  “Just remember, if it comes to a fight, you’ll still be vulnerable to any telepaths inside your cloaking field. Hopefully it’s not something we’ll have to worry about anytime soon, but we should start training your mental defenses nonetheless.”

  That sounded good to me.

  I still shuddered at the memories of Kublich and Smirks playing puppet master with my body. Enough so that I was about to suggest we start the lessons right then when Carlisle’s desk node emitted a light chirp and one of the displays awoke with a notification.

  “Franco?” I asked as he crossed to check it.

  “The one and only.” He glanced down at his palmlight. “We should move. We can be off the streets before the suspiciously late hours if we leave now.”

  “We’re going tonight?”

  My obsession with mastering telekinesis had mostly held the thoughts of Elise at bay throughout the day’s training, but the prospect of returning to Franco’s threw open the floodgates to fanciful thoughts of fair skin and mischievous smiles.

  “Whatever we decide from Franco’s information,” Carlisle said, “it’ll probably require a couple days to plan and prepare. And time is of the essence.” He gave me a shrewd look, as if only then noticing I’d sounded a few notes too excited about the new plans. “Please don’t make me regret the decision, Haldin.”

  I scowled, praying my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Please. I know how to control myself. Soldier, remember?”

  “Tyro,” Carlisle amended, looking less than convinced, but he said nothing more.

  I accepted the slight without argument and gladly turned my attention to packing a few days’ supplies, more than ready to see what the night would bring.

  16

  Fire and Staves

  We made it to Franco’s unmolested under the rambunctious cover of the Divinity nightlife crowd. I made a point of removing my hood and my specs at the door this time.

  “Hey, guys!” James cried from the top of the steps.

  It was like being greeted by an excited puppy.

  “Hello, James,” Carlisle called.

  I raised a hand in greeting and returned James’ smile. It was kind of hard not to.

  “No pat down?” I asked when James beckoned us through the antechamber and straight into the house.

  An embarrassed look crossed his face. “Oh, Phineas just wanted to make sure, umm… That is, we don’t normally—”

  “It’s quite all right, James,” Carlisle said. “These are dangerous times.”

  I nodded my agreement when James turned his gaze to me, and it seemed to assuage his concerns. He bounced on through the doorway, waving for us to follow.

  We passed Phineas—who roused from his couch-lounging only enough to respond to our greetings with a low grunt—and headed up to Franco’s study. I glanced each way at the landing, hoping I might discreetly catch a glimpse of Elise.

  No such luck.

  My spirits fell as James shuttled us through the ornate door and into the study. Franco sat behind his big oak desk, poring over a tablet. He didn’t speak as we sat. Just tapped a few commands on his tablet and waved a hand at the holodisk in the center of his desk.

  A three-dimensional map sprang to life over the desk, slowly rotating to reveal a huge complex surrounded by a perimeter wall that nearly rivaled Sanctuary’s.

  “That’s the Vantage facility?” I asked
.

  I already knew the answer. I’d seen images of the place before. It just looked a tad more intimidating after I’d suggested breaking into the place.

  Franco nodded absentmindedly. “They take their privacy quite seriously, as you can see.”

  “Sweet Alpha, I guess so. I can’t imagine they’d take kindly to us poking around for answers, either.”

  “No,” Franco agreed, “I think not.”

  “You have details on security?” I asked.

  “Not as many as I’d prefer,” Franco said, looking irritated about the fact. “Vantage has done an unusually good job of tightening their loose ends. Their security is run completely in-house these days, and apparently with very few weak links. But I did manage to persuade an old contractor of theirs to provide us with some plans and rough estimates. Sounds like they’ve assembled even more of a private military than I’d realized in the past few years. If I wasn’t drooling to see what they’re hiding in there beforehand, well…”

  “Are we to take it your investigation into the factory was largely uninteresting, then?” Carlisle asked.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say uninteresting. Just unresolved. Something’s off, and my instincts are telling me that the labs are where we’ll find our answers.”

  “I see.” Carlisle drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, thinking. “Any clever ideas on getting past that private military, then?”

  Franco shifted his frown between us. “I was hoping that might be where our ex-soldier and our world-class Shaper might come in. Let me tell you what I know.”

  Over the next hour, he broke it down for us. The size of the complex. Specifics of the perimeter wall. The estimated population of the scientists and crew living onsite. Peak hours of activity. Anything and everything else he’d managed to scrounge up from his contacts and from various records—some public, some not.

  Franco had gathered an impressively large amount of information in an impressively short amount of time. We had plenty to discuss throughout the briefing.

  The complex was essentially a tiny city in its own right. Our target, the main research building, spanned about a third of that complex, ten floors high above ground, and five floors deep below.

  While our information on the building’s interior was about as thin as our actual understanding of what we were looking for, we were all in agreement that the secure labs below ground were a likely target. Franco even posited there might be additional underground floors missing from the building plan, based on some minor inconsistencies between some permits and some old contractor’s records he’d somehow dug up.

  It sounded a bit paranoid at first. But we were dealing with red-eyed monsters who actually had their clawed hands on several of Enochia’s most prominent strings, weren’t we?

  We’d left paranoia miles behind.

  We talked into the night, discussing options, infil and exfil routes, the security measures we’d most likely encounter, and what we might actually learn once we were inside. James and Phineas could run support and handle our transport in and out. Franco was supremely confident he’d be able to decrypt whatever information we pulled from the facility, though he admitted it would likely take some time.

  Without anyone outright saying it, it was clear we’d all hopped on board this crazy expedition with both feet first. Demons to the wind.

  After a couple hours of brainstorming, a rough plan was taking form, along with a list of the equipment we’d likely need for the job. As invested as I was in the conversation, I couldn’t help but let out a yawn during a particularly long pause in conversation.

  “You should get some rest,” Carlisle said.

  I tried to work up the will to be indignant, but I was too tired. “You might have a point.”

  But I was still hesitant to go.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “I won’t go slinking off into danger without you this time.”

  I nodded, rose to my feet, and made it as far as the door before realizing I had no idea where I was going.

  “Take a right out the door, then a left down the next hall,” Franco said. “There are two guest rooms at the end. You should find anything you need in there.”

  I said my thanks and shuffled out of the room and into the dim hallway, trying to rub the sleepy haze out of my eyes and idly wondering how long they would stay up strategizing.

  More than that, I wondered how comfortable Carlisle would actually be bringing me in on the action when it was time.

  Whatever he might say, I could still see the hesitation in him. Trained or not—soldier or not—he felt like he was bringing a helpless teenager into a dangerous conflict. But then again, maybe I was just projecting my own doubts onto him.

  I was ready to put my life on the line and cover his back. I was sure about that. But that didn’t make the prospect of breaking the law, infiltrating a fortress, and actually wading into the fray against the raknoth any less terrifying.

  Much as I longed to make Kublich and the rest of the raknoth pay, I could feel my rage slowly smoldering, more vulnerable with each passing day to the creep of cold fear. I needed something to sink my teeth into. Infiltrating Vantage hadn’t been what I’d had in mind when I’d signed up for this fight, but I could only pray it was the right move to make.

  At the end of Franco’s directions, I found myself peering through a dark doorway, too lost ruminating over everything and nothing to step in and look for a light. A heavy sigh escaped me.

  “A nugget for your thoughts, stranger?”

  The voice was soft in the calm, dark hallway.

  Elise.

  My heartbeat picked up.

  “Just the one?” I asked, not turning.

  “I guess that depends on how good these thoughts are.” Her voice was closer now. “I might be convinced to make it a knot. I’m open to negotiation.”

  I turned to take her in, powerless to prevent a ridiculous smile from splitting my face.

  Her raven hair was barely discernible from the darkness of the hallway, but I could see her fair face just well enough to make out the outline of her smile.

  She drew up to me and leaned her shoulder against the door frame. “So, thoughts?”

  “My thoughts…”

  Blue eyes crinkling in a smile. A subtly sweet scent I wanted to breathe in until it consumed me. And… what was it I’d been sighing about a moment ago?

  “… are pretty great now.”

  And they were.

  Just like that, all the heavy burdens of Kublich and the raknoth and Vantage had slid to the sides—not gone, but temporarily overruled by the urge to make her smile.

  She just wrinkled her nose. “I won’t lie, I think you’d be lucky to even get half a nugget with a gem like that.”

  “Hey, a deal’s a deal, right?”

  She conceded the point with a tilt of her head.

  Alpha, how was her every movement so intriguing?

  A small silence passed between us, more exhilarating than uncomfortable.

  “So,” she said, “why are you in my house in the middle of the night, sighing in dark doorways?”

  “Uh…”

  Always be honest, Hal, came my dad’s voice in my head. It’s the only real secret to being a good commander, a good husband, a good person. Tell it as it is.

  Except I was pretty sure telling her I was trying to stop shadowy monsters from wreaking havoc on Enochia was absolutely not an option.

  Scud.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” She looked pointedly from me to the guest room. “You got a thing for dark rooms or something?”

  “What? No, I just—Well what were you doing out here, Lady Inquisitor?”

  “My lurking creep senses were tingling,” she said without missing a beat. “Had to come check the silvers, make sure there weren’t any shady characters about. You know how it goes.”

  “Sure, sure. Look, Euh…” I only narrowly reined myself in from dropping her name, which I probably sho
uldn’t have known, being not a creep and whatnot. “I know this probably looks strange, but I’m just here with my boss.”

  She mouthed the word, boss, studying me with a small frown. Finally, she shrugged. “You just look like you’ve got some heavy stuff going on in there. Thought maybe I could help.”

  “And maybe learn a juicy secret or two while you’re at it?”

  Her frown darkened to a scowl.

  Alpha, why in demon’s depths would I say that?

  I’d done it. Just like that, I’d said something stupid and offended her.

  But then she cracked a wicked grin. “Who says I can’t do both?”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Something about her energy…

  Before I could say anything, she straightened and held up a finger to silence me, cocking her head as if listening. Then pulled the guest room door silently shut, grabbed my hand, and tugged me down the hallway without warning.

  “Phineas is coming,” she whispered lightly against my ear.

  We pulled up to the intersection, and she peered around the corner before looking back to me. “Wanna talk where the troops won’t find us?”

  Somewhere, beneath the part of me that was still goop-brained from the feel of her breath on my ear and her hand in mine, Carlisle’s warning flashed through my head. For all of two seconds.

  It was just a talk, right?

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “Let’s scoot!”

  She made a horrified face. “Let’s what?”

  “It’s something my dad used to… It’s—Never mind!”

  She shook her head and pulled me forward.

  I went along, just glad she probably couldn’t see the reddening of my cheeks in the dark hallway.

  There was a faint creak from the next hallway as we passed—maybe from the staircase?

  We didn’t stick around to find out.

  Elise dragged me to the end of the hallway, past the painting I’d been admiring the previous day, and pushed me through the farthest door on the left. It was a large bedroom, somewhere between posh and cozy, lit by what appeared to be flickering firelight.

  That’s about all I had time to process before Elise nudged me against the wall and expertly swung the door shut without a sound.