Spiral of Silence (The Unearthed Series Book 3)

by Marc Mulero

  Veer sighed in disagreement, clearly disturbed by the pollution of death around him. “The Quarantine is too drastic. The hierarchy panics and resists. They do not view us as the world’s protectors in a time when we should be perceived as such. The other highlords are too shaken from the Quake to be rational. But you, you and I should address this, and your wife,” he gestured behind him.

  Mulderan retained a cool gaze, his hazel eyes penetrating the concerned man’s. “The Quarantine is for our protection. The ‘visitors’ that appear at our gates come armed with malice and armaments. They mustn’t be able to unionize.”

  “Flip it, Mulderan. Ease the Quarantine and reassure the hierarchy that we are here to help them through this time of need,” Veer rebutted.

  Mulderan disagreed. “No,” he said sharply. “Regardless of warning, the public will only view us as selfish after our decisions.”

  Because that’s what we are.

  Staring blankly at his leader’s back, Veer dropped his arms to his sides in defeat. Whatever slim pragmatism the Highest Lord possessed had left him. He wanted the world to burn, and that was becoming clearer with each passing second.

  Mulderan approached Eldra, who was waiting at the exit of the facility. “My actions are being questioned,” he said without worry. “Where do you stand on that front?”

  “You say it as if they’re questioning the same actions that I am. I know of a deed far greater, that was the only reason for my hesitation,” she returned a similar tone.

  He tilted his head in curiosity, awaiting his wife’s confirmation.

  “The cause is still mine. The only thing that’s changed is how I view you. I wanted to cut you where you stood, Mulderan. But I got over it, and reflected upon all that we’ve built in this time of chaos. You were our savior then… but now, it seems, that you’ve become our originator. We have much to do.”

  Mulderan’s face was unmoved, but somehow there was satisfaction in his silence.

  “The Amaranthine Directive is on its way, and Project Fatum will soon be complete,” Eldra noted. “The plans are in motion. We should concentrate on next steps. Do we investigate Cryos, or pay a visit to the Aura?”

  “Neither.” He began to stride out from the laboratory. “We need the highlords in line with our vision. As the fear of the Quake subsides, their questions will only multiply. Our persistence will work to quell their agendas,” he said, reaching the sun’s light. “Once we achieve that, our journey will lead us to Auront. We must understand the strength that this smoke contains. I’ve read all the reports on Cryos weapons, and while I’m disturbed that I armed the Sins with pitchforks, it pales in comparison. They couldn’t even take over the Dome with it. Further, it appears that only few can wield it. I have no interest in spending inordinate amounts of time on such a miniscule finding. It’s the smoke that contains raw power.”

  Eldra’s crystal blue eye darted side to side while she thought back. “The Aura were nothing more than obvious targets in old New York. They chased us from our base because of timing, not some power. What have you found that makes you so certain?”

  “Their leader, Asura. She demonstrated her strength while I was held in Senation, and solidified our agreement.”

  “And you let her hold onto it?” Eldra asked, growing agitated with the thought.

  “She has evolved in her own right. Perhaps she is worthy to inhabit the earth with us. But that all depends on her,” the corners of his lips curved upward. “She will submit, Eldra, or she will die.”

  Chapter 8

  Orin was the first to leap from the jet, his cloths whipping in the gales of Old Iceland as he fell into the frigid tundra, to a view of all white and crystal blue. A scene of wintery solitude. Then wham. His velocity abruptly ceased, boots clunked against rigid ice, clouds of mist puffing up on impact.

  He gathered himself, straightened, finding stability on the frozen ground beneath his feet while his mind was already hard at work.

  “Hmm.” He arched his neck to better gauge their location, to see past the dense curtains of haze.

  Thankfully, though, this wasn’t his first rodeo.

  Eyes focused as they peered into the distance. There, amid the snowflakes whirling and past the mountains of ice and waves of snow, he was able to make out an abandoned Dactuar building flickering into sight. That’s all he needed. It was time to move.

  Wham. Wham.

  Two plummeting shadows blocked his vision, and then quickly took shape as Blague and Lesh once they touched ground.

  Onward to the Citadel, the most sacred ground to the Neraphis. Orin wasn’t about to let his guests spoil sanctions though, because to draw attention to the Neraphis isolated existence would be to betray them. There was no telling what ally or foe lurked, so it was best to leave no trace of their trespassing. And so, the trio stared up at the aircraft whirling to depart, the one setting them to wander the frozen wasteland alone.

  “We should have vacationed here, back when the world was whole. It truly is magnificent,” Elaina said.

  “You must not feel the biting cold,” Blague teased.

  “It’s not so bad when you have a big hunk warming you,” she said, Blague imagined with a smile.

  His wavy hair danced in place while he plodded forward, the roaring gusts filling the silence between them.

  “I like your father’s idea of us being guardians. That seems to be where the true value of Cryos lies,” her tone changed. “We can do great deeds in a time like this, like we always strived for in our old life.”

  “We will, Elaina,” he said, convincing himself.

  Orin led the way along the shorefront, descending down a hill, and pattering just barely to duck out of open ground and out of sight. One look to the right showed endless blocks of ice sitting atop the sea - brushing into one another - clattering to remind them of the cold. And in front, far beyond, thick stones the size of buildings jutted from the ocean’s surface as though there were an underground city somewhere out there, just the tips of which poked through into the open to grace the land dwellers with their presence. That wasn’t the case though. It couldn’t be. But the view did evoke mystery. It bled from each submerged pillar because it wasn’t completely natural. There, discretely etched within them were symbols – similar to the Obsidian stone Biljin once brought Blague, or the key that Aldarian had kept for him. Of course. The Society. These were markers for them.

  Down even further, they waded through jagged rocks obstructing their path until they were forced to a point of no return. The three of them peered to the narrow walkway before them… the place where steep mountain and sea collided. An impasse.

  Blague looked up for another way. Nope. Too steep and likely to be slippery. What was this nightmare his father was leading them to? White crest rushed against the wall like a massive firehose was just let loose. And when the tide receded, they saw it… a layer of spikes – like a blockade of spearmen set to stab the advancing waves. A trap set by mother nature herself. How could this be the only way forward?

  Orin held his hand high for them to hold position. He was thinking or counting perhaps, to see when the time was right. How long was this crossing? An eighth of a mile? Still it seemed too far.

  Speed, accuracy, it all had to be timed perfectly.

  “You will go first while I sweep our backs to be sure we were not followed. We will meet again on the other side.”

  They waited at Orin’s heels as he gauged the ocean’s churning strength.

  “Fly!” his voice finally bellowed, waving the two ahead of him.

  He watched with a protective eye as the water sucked up the black sand beneath them. It inhaled into a monstrous tide, curling like a claw to crush them.

  A test. A vicious trial for those who dared trespass… that’s what this was.

  There they went - Lesh and Blague - racing past the line of spears, feeling the unstable ground sinking further at their feet.

  “Go. Go!” Blague shouted to hims
elf more than to her.

  A shadow cast by the current rose over their heads, swallowing them, darkening everything to tell a story of no escape.

  “We’re not going to make it!” Blague shouted ahead of him. “We’re not going to clear the line!”

  The assassin stomped hard to stop herself, realizing in the moment that Blague was right. She looked up to the wave – an endlessly wide cobra rearing its head from the dirt. Desperate, she spun and yanked Blague by his collar to get his attention.

  “Grmph…” he grunted and turned, “wha-”

  She was already mid-flip up onto two of the jagged spears… balancing, swaying, then catching herself again. He looked at her as if to say “This is a terrible idea.”

  “Broken bones beats a couple of spears through the chest, no?” she slapped back, and then offered a hand for him to grab on.

  After a hard sniff, Blague clambered up the two spines and stationed himself in front of her to shield her. She didn’t think of his bravery. It just wasn’t in her nature at all. Only survival, which was looking more and more bleak by each passing second. She reached back with one harm, bracing hopelessly against the wall, muttering curses to herself.

  There was hope, though. It became clear in the face of danger what the Sin Leader must do, what Lesh hoped he could do.

  “What was the point of all that time away, Blague? Tell me, what was the point, if not for a time like right now,” she scolded him, gripping his back so hard that she may have drawn blood with her nails.

  The water was thundering on its way down.

  “Blague! What was the point!?” Her scream was barely heard by drowning pressure.

  Five seconds at most.

  He knew what he had to do. Energy ignited from his mark and melted past his limbs, down his body, swirling, until it consolidated at his chest.

  Three seconds.

  His breathing steadied as he stared down the liquid fangs crowding an endless mouth headed to swallow them.

  “Stillness, Blague. Like we’ve practiced a hundred times before,” Elaina whispered.

  A messy trail of Cryos seeped from his pores.

  Lesh loosened her grip in awe from what was she witnessing. Could it be that he was demonstrating the same mastery that Aslock had back at the Battle of the Dome?

  One second.

  Waves that once seemed far enough away to be harmless now became their harshest enemy. All sound flushed out but for the descending tide. It boomed like a stampede of horses, charging downward with beating hooves… closer and closer. Time was up.

  But Blague roared back – long and loud he roared and he willed Cryos to solidify around them. Yes. Finally. Something to challenge the ocean’s momentum. To beat it.

  A loud crash… and then darkness.

  The smell of salt amongst freezing cold. Smell? That means they were still breathing. She could still breathe.

  Lesh opened her eyes to see herself steady while all else moved, both pairs of feet shaking to keep still, balancing on the uneven spears without fail. All the while, gallons of water were being dumped around them. The water splashed up from the floor, crashed against the wall behind them, working to fill the gap that Blague fought to create. Everywhere. It was everywhere.

  And yet, Cryos acted as a glorious shield in this moment. A protector.

  Blague closed his eyes to better concentrate, expanding the field of conjured azure matter to wrap the two and drive everything back from whence it came.

  He was shaking violently now though. “Hold,” he told himself, watching the energy tremble with stress, every push further depleting his strength. And just when it was about to burst, the pressure finally ceased, leaving Blague to fall with it.

  Trying to latch onto the serrated stones to break his fall was useless. His limbs were limp, body deadweight. He used everything to keep them alive, and so he collapsed down on the sodden ground – cut, bruised, and defeated.

  Lesh ignored the insanity of what had just happened – she had to just as she did in the Dome – and instead slipped through the space between two spikes, slapping down onto wet sand, and bending to heave Blague’s two heavy arms over her back. No time to waste. The clock was already ticking down again in the form of disappearing sand. Another wave already culminating, quicker than the first, or at least that’s how it seemed.

  All of Blague’s effort would have been for naught if she couldn’t do her part - get ahead of the impasse and clear the threshold.

  The extra load was too much though, breaking her stride and slowing it down. Even with impending doom as a motivator, she knew they wouldn’t make it. She scoffed. Cursed. Flung Blague to the floor in defeat.

  “Useless!” she yelled while lying down beside him. “Fucking useless.”

  This plan, like the other, would at the very least end in broken bones, but maybe, just maybe, they could avoid the spears. Maybe they could live to see another day. She watched Blague helplessly try to rise, but his body quivered and caved back into the silt.

  Once more their surroundings rapidly darkened. There it went.

  Eyes pressed shut. Arms and legs tensed to brace. They could hear the rush, the thunder of enormity, and then nothingness.

  Too many seconds had passed. They should have been smashed and broken by now. But no.

  Lesh opened her eyes to find herself unmoved once more. Saved… by Orin.

  There he was with both hands trembling in place, offering a bright shield of Cryos bending to protect them. She wanted to sit and watch, to understand, but her survival instincts kicked in. Up, she flipped onto her feet and then swung Blague upright, wrapping his arm around her neck and accepting their second chance.

  Blague wheezed as he tried to speak his awe, but no words came. He could only look on as a spectator this time around. How was it that water wasn’t smashing against his father’s shield the same as it did his? How was it that instead, it was being gracefully drained away? A beautiful act in its own right – the azure shield guided the water, making it swirl around them to fall at their feet. Orin had created an umbrella of life, one that guided the tidal wave instead of fighting it.

  Blague looked on, angry at himself, ashamed of himself, knowing that he had much to learn.

  His eyes were compelled to Lesh, and then to his father.

  “Now you see, purpose can be a powerful motivator,” Orin said while the tide calmed. “Practice can only take you so far. The immediacy of action in real time, that is where true strength is measured.”

  He picked Blague up by his dangling arm and aided Lesh in dragging him to cover. “The Neraphis love their tests, as you both will see.”

  They laid him down beside a crown of high rocks that blocked the tides.

  “Rest now,” Orin said, before gliding away into the distance.

  Hours passed. Blague tried to fight sleep every step of the way, but his eyes were heavy and his breathing deep. And eventually sleep won.

  Not for Lesh though. She was wide awake, yet dreaming all the same, knowing there was an untapped power within her. She had to have it. Had to. The daughter of the Spade within her, the Sin assassin, every part of her said she could make it happen.

  But not yet. Orin’s slow return was in direct contrast to their desires. Purposeful yet unhurried, he returned when he deemed the time was right, when Blague had finally reawakened, and Lesh’s anxiety rang supreme.

  “No one ever makes it past the line, nor over it.” Orin pointed to a steep glacier of ice towering over them. “And no one has reason to. That is why the Hiezers’ birds never venture here. The Society has learned from their mishaps and have stayed hidden this time around.”

  He glanced over at the two of them. “They demand a great deal of respect. Your suffering and your fear have just earned it. Come.”

  Blague was hoisted up by Lesh, and exchanged a look with her before continuing on. He could feel the air getting stranger… familiar, prompting him to think back to when he was last at the Society
’s Citadel, remembering how he had gotten there. Going toe-to-toe with Aslock was no errand boy’s task, and seeing Cryos in motion for the first time was not something for the rigid. The prospect of returning was exhilarating.

  Lesh’s blackened eyes stood out in her whipping cowl. Her mood was of annoyance – sharing no nostalgic memories of where she was headed. Having to be rescued when preaching against needing just that was all that she could think about. Having weapons hiding in plain sight that she still couldn’t wield, and having her knife ring covered felt like she was stuck with her hands tied behind her back. This journey through the volcanic lands couldn’t end sooner. She wanted to be at the Citadel already, mastering Cryos instead of playing these stupid Neraphis games. Why couldn’t this be over already? Then, in her frustration, more unwanted thoughts crept up.

  Lito’s cold arm swinging under a body-length cloth and Sabin’s faraway stare from the shock of holding his dead friend in his arms was more vivid than the tundra.

  His death stung more than she would’ve liked to admit, and her actions showed it. Blague knew the pain that gave rise to her ambitions. He felt it, too.

  “Thank you,” Blague said.

  “Cut the shit. We both failed, again,” Lesh’s voice sliced through the cold air. “I’m going with you on this merry chase to stop doing just that.”

  A subtle smile cracked on Orin’s face while he led them onward.

  “Do you really believe Eugene is innocent?” she asked.

  “You haven’t traveled to the island of Vicissitude, or experienced duality. Both of these understandings changed everything for me. If my father says that he saw that freak, Jason, then I believe him. If he says that Jason lives within Eugene, it has to be true. Our sniper is a bag of woes, but he would never betray us. Not like that.”

  “Hmph,” she scoffed. “I feel like the world has gone mad and I’m the only one left living in reality.”

  “Somewhere deep down, I know you believe me. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. You can’t be so narrow as to only believe in what you can see.”