The Light Thief

by David Webb

  “There’s no way I’m letting you do this. We didn’t come all this way for you to die in a hole.”

  Aniya quietly laughed again. “We’ve lived our entire lives in a hole, Roland. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

  “She’s already agreed,” Kendall said. “This noble act of sacrifice will end the tyranny of the Lightbringers for good and ensure the safety of you, her brother, Nicholas . . . the entire Web.”

  Roland looked back down. “Nicholas? You found him?”

  “Don’t let your feelings for her stop her from finishing the work her parents started.”

  “My parents would never have wanted this for Aniya.” Roland gently laid Aniya’s head on the ground and stood up, clenching his fists. “They would have fought tooth and nail to keep her away from this place and away from you.”

  “Roland—”

  “I’ll do it. I’ll take her place. Get Aniya out, get William out, get everyone out. If my death means the end of the Lightbringers, I’m okay with that.”

  Aniya reached up and grabbed his arm. “No, you can’t. It has to be me.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Roland brushed her hand away.

  “No, she’s right,” Kendall said. “The pod is genetically programmed, assigned to William’s DNA and recalibrated slightly to allow his sister’s. If you stepped in there, it wouldn’t do anything but kill you.”

  “No, it’ll work.” Roland gave a sad smile. “She’s my sister.”

  Aniya gaped and spoke in unison with Kendall. “What?”

  Roland looked down at her and nodded. “We were born as twins, and rather than let the Lightbringers take one of us away from your parents and William because of the two-child limit, our parents gave me to Gareth, whose family was killed after the war. They didn’t tell you or William for my safety. Gareth didn’t even tell me. Salvador told me and warned me not to tell you, but of course I would have if we didn’t get separated.”

  Roland looked up to face Kendall again. “So, I’ll work just as well as Aniya. Just make sure she gets out of here.”

  “But you won’t. Not only did I have to recalibrate the machine and customize William’s old pod to match her DNA as close as I could, but her body has been given a week to acclimate to the machine and the energy transfer process. You haven’t been prepared and therefore wouldn’t survive nearly as long as she would. And if the host dies or even falls unconscious before the process is complete, it won’t work, and we’ll be back where we started.”

  Roland gestured toward Aniya’s shivering body. “Look at her. She’s close enough to death as it is. Do you really think she’ll survive long enough to finish it?”

  Kendall began to speak again, but Roland cut him off.

  “Forget it, Kendall. She won’t be dying today. I’m taking her place, and that’s final. If you have a problem with it, come down here to push her inside yourself, but we’ll be long gone.” Roland looked down at Aniya. “Besides, I don’t have anyone left. You have William and Nicholas, even this Kendall guy who apparently doesn’t care if you make it or not.”

  Aniya shook her head. “William’s your brother too.”

  “Not really. I didn’t know until just recently. I don’t think William even knows. I don’t have anyone.”

  Tears finally began to surface as Aniya found energy to cry, and she touched his face. “You have me.”

  Roland smiled again but clutched her hand firmly. “Not if you give yourself up now. One of us is going to die today, and I’m not going to let it be you.”

  They gazed at each other for a long moment before Kendall finally spoke again.

  “Fine. Get in the machine. Aniya, you’ll have a few minutes while the machine cold starts and the process begins, but if you’re still here in ten minutes, I can’t promise your survival.”

  “What about you?”

  Kendall shrugged. “I’ll try to make it out, but I have to stay until the process is finished. After that, between the battle outside, the radiation that will be seeping up from underground, and the Operative looking for a traitor, I’m not sure I’m getting out of the Citadel. Besides, when the reactor blows, there’s no telling what it will do to the Hub. Things are already falling apart up here thanks to the work we’ve done so far. In all likelihood, this is it for me.”

  Aniya looked at Roland again. “I’m not in any condition to run, Roland. If you do this, we’ll probably both die. Let me do it, please.”

  Roland clutched her hand. “You’ll make it, Aniya. I have no doubt in my mind. But you’d better leave now.”

  After another pause, Aniya nodded. She kissed his cheek gently. “Thank you.”

  With one last smile, Roland stood up and took a deep breath.

  Then, a blast echoed against the rock walls, and Roland fell over on top of her, blood flowing from a hole in his back.

  49

  Salvador opened the large door and peered inside. Seeing the man standing on the other end of the room, Salvador closed the door behind him and approached the large window overlooking the trembling Hub, joining the man standing alone.

  It was a strange sight. One man was in an elegant, white suit. The other one was fully covered in ornate, golden armor.

  Neither man spoke, instead watching the ground crumble as sinkholes formed and fault lines opened. The destruction of the Hub was imminent. It was now only a matter of time.

  Pieces of the sky ceiling fell thousands of feet down onto the dirt valley, the buildings, the streets. The falling sky burst as it hit the ground, sending sparks flying. Even in collapse, the artificial sky provided some form of light.

  Men fought on the ground below, ignoring the debris falling around them. Muzzle flashes reflected off silver armor. Fire illuminated the piles of dead bodies—Salvador’s men, the Silver Guard, and mole alike.

  Corrin had been right. The cost was great, but victory would come at last. They might all of them die, but they would take their oppressors with them. The Uprising would finally come to a bloody, well-deserved end.

  The man in the white suit spoke.

  “I was wondering how long it would take you to make your way to me.”

  “Is that why you are still here, Noah?”

  “I knew you couldn’t resist one last visit to gloat.” The Chancellor walked back to his desk and sat down. “So, what do you have to say? ‘I told you so?’ No need for that.”

  Salvador remained by the window. “That implies that you already knew how your road would end. I see hundreds of bodies out there that prove otherwise.”

  “A waste, I agree. But by the time I realized the inevitability of it all, I also knew that it was too late to try to stop it. Que será, será, Aram. Your favorite words.” The Chancellor drank from a glass, then licked his lips. “Sorry. Salvador.” He laughed.

  Salvador shrugged. “I did not give myself that name. Call me what you wish.”

  “You taught me a valuable lesson, I’ll give you that. But I was prepared for this, and it is not the end for me or those who still believe in what I’ve created. A setback. A change of scenery. Nothing more.”

  “The Director may have a thing or two to say about that, Noah.”

  The Chancellor waved his hand. “The Director does not care for the politics of the Underworld. He only cares that we provide for him what we promised him. And given that these tragic times are a direct result of his involvement, he apparently doesn’t even care about that as much as I thought.”

  “You know how it works,” Salvador said. “This had to play out naturally. Any involvement would destroy the illusion that he has worked hard to protect. I sincerely doubt that this was his plan.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. How long ago was it that he asked you to spy on me?”

  Salvador paused.

  “Yes, I know he came to you first. It was all a little too convenient. Your departure, Kendall’s arrival, the Uprising. And don’t pretend there was anything natural about this. I know you’ve been
in contact with Kendall. You sent the girl here to finish her brother’s job, didn’t you? There’s no way you would have done so unless my oh-so-loyal Adviser told you that it would work. The Director’s hand has been at work the entire time. Do you really think that any of this is a surprise to him?”

  “If you remain so sure of the Director’s sovereign hand, what makes you think that he will allow you to live?”

  The Chancellor licked his lips again. “Kendall could have killed me at any time. But in the end, no one in the sectors cares about the Hub or who governs the Web. As long as they have their power, they’re happy. Even if it means that a few of their children must leave to serve their leaders, they understand in the end. No, I doubt very much that the Director cares whether I live or die. I think he assumes that even if I live, I will have lost all influence in this world. I believe, in this regard, that the Director is wrong.”

  “For someone who respects his power so much, you place a terrible amount of trust in your own will. Even if you do live, if you prove that you still have power in this world, he will ensure that you do not survive.”

  “So be it. I’ve enjoyed the position I’ve been given for a long time. If it’s really my time to go, then I wish the best of luck to Kendall. But I do not intend to go quietly.”

  “As you wish,” Salvador said. With that, he drew his massive sword from the sheath on his back and made a broad swipe toward the Chancellor, slicing his chest and sending him rolling off his chair and onto the floor.

  Salvador approached the supine man calmly.

  The Chancellor lay on the floor, writhing in pain as he bled out. But despite the wound, his words were calm. “And here I thought you came for an amicable conversation.”

  “You lost that right when you took my daughter, Noah.”

  The Chancellor laughed, coughing up blood. “Your daughter is of no concern to me. Why do you think I let her go?”

  “I know how this works. She outlived her usefulness. I am truly surprised you did not kill her. When she showed up in the hands of your men out there, I knew you realized you were beaten. You hoped I would take her and leave, did you not?” Salvador stepped on the Chancellor’s chest, pressing his heel down on the blood-soaked tear in the dictator’s suit.

  “Whether you leave or not is of no consequence to me. The survival of you and your daughter has no bearing on my plans.”

  “Says the man under my boot.” He pressed harder. “You took her and lured me here. Why? You had to have known that my family has grown in the last two decades. Even if we lose today, it would be devastating to you. Why pick a fight you might not win? Why now?”

  The Chancellor gave a pained smile. “Why indeed? There’s a question you’re not asking, Aram.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You keep asking why. That implies that I took your daughter to begin with.”

  Salvador’s eyes narrowed. “Did you take my daughter?”

  The Chancellor laughed again. “I think you know the answer. I think you knew before you stepped into this room. I remember who you were, and I remember what you turned into. I would not be alive if you truly believed that I took your daughter.”

  “But you freed her. You could not have done that if you did not know if she was here.”

  “Little happens in the Web that escapes my attention. I was notified that your daughter and her boyfriend had been captured.” He stuck out his lips slightly and clucked his tongue. “And my heart went out to your poor daughter, which is why I set her free.”

  Salvador shook his head. “You are but a snake. Your precious Hub is crumbling around you because you were deemed unfit for your position. To trust you is foolish.”

  “Then don’t trust me.” The Chancellor shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. But now I have a question for you. Why didn’t you tell anyone our secret? You could have turned the entire Web against me long ago.”

  “Panic is a powerful thing. Look out your window again. Your men are scattered. They realized their defeat, and now they are in disarray. If I had told the Web how you harvest electricity, what you do to their children, they would be angry, yes. But they would be scared.”

  “Liar.”

  Salvador glared into the Chancellor’s eyes but said nothing.

  “You can lie to your flock all you want, shepherd, but you cannot lie to me. They still believe that it was the Lightbringers who cut off your finger, don’t they? That we tortured you? It’s a shame the smartest of them can’t tell the difference between an injury and a birth defect.”

  Salvador remained silent.

  “I see through you, Aram. If you had won eighteen years ago, I can tell you what would be three miles underneath us right now. I know how you would sustain power.” The Chancellor reached up and grabbed Salvador’s legs, blood splashing over the Scourge’s golden armor. “I can tell you what would have changed. Nothing. Because you know that while our system is cruel, it works. It keeps the world alive. If the Lightbringers go, the rest of the world goes with us. No, you would have carried the secret to your grave. You would have been a wiser ruler, a kinder one, but you would have maintained our one true purpose. You knew it when you were my Adviser, and you know it now. It’s so much bigger than this Web. It’s so much bigger than me, and certainly so much bigger than you.”

  Salvador’s heart sank as the Chancellor’s words echoed in his ears. He held a hand to his eyes and shook his head. Then blood flowed from his shoulder as a bullet made its way through the cracks in his armor and ripped through his body. He staggered backward and fell to the ground, grabbing his shoulder in pain.

  Behind him, a second bullet fired. Glass shattered.

  Salvador turned in time to see the Chancellor stagger his way toward the open window. He had a white backpack on now.

  “So long, Aram, Salvador, whatever you choose to call yourself. I hope to see you again, no matter what the world is tomorrow.” With that, the Chancellor stepped through the open window and fell.

  Salvador scrambled toward the window, trying to ignore the pain. He watched as the Chancellor fell, opening a parachute halfway down and gliding slowly toward the trembling ground below.

  “A parachute?” He rolled his eyes. “He really was prepared.”

  Salvador turned and let himself sprawl out on the floor as he bled, looking up at the white ceiling.

  He had spent so much of his adult life despising the man he knew as the Chancellor. He was famous for his hatred of the dictator, and he had built a platform on the promise that he would kill the man and change the Web for good.

  But was Noah right? If the Uprising had been successful, would anything be different?

  He couldn’t say for sure. The thought terrified him as he realized that there was more truth to the Chancellor’s words than he cared to admit.

  And if Noah was right, then Salvador was an even bigger fraud than he thought. He had promised to free the Web, but if he had succeeded, just how free would they really be?

  Even his name was a lie. Theodore had thought it was appropriate for the savior of the Web, but what kind of savior would willingly imprison and torture his followers?

  The one thing he knew was that he wasn’t Salvador anymore. He wasn’t even Aram. Both names had lost their meaning.

  Salvador was a fighter, a symbol for freedom, a lie.

  Aram was a trusted Adviser, a dutiful employee, a lie.

  Somewhere in the middle was a loyal friend, a father to many, a leader . . . a lie.

  As it turned out, Salvador never had the chance to prove the Chancellor right. He had not betrayed the Web, but he also had done nothing to fix it. He had only made it worse. Even now that he had learned from his mistakes, now that he had helped Kendall end the lie for good, would the world be any better?

  And at what cost? The Web would forever change, finally free of the Chancellor, but only because he sent an innocent girl to her death.

  And now that he had committed his unforgivabl
e crime, the Web no longer needed Salvador, and he no longer wanted the Web.

  With a grunt of pain, Salvador stood up and began walking, letting blood drip to the ground as he staggered forward.

  His one regret was Tamisra. Salvador didn’t know which he regretted more, the fact that she was born into an awful world he had helped ruin, or the fact that she would now have to live without a father.

  She deserved better.

  Roland would make a fine companion, assuming his survival.

  If nothing else, he trusted Corrin to take over in his stead and be a good leader for Refuge, a good father to Tamisra.

  It was only fair, after all.

  He smiled as blood poured from his shoulder.

  It was better that he leave this place and live on in the Web as no more than a memory, a tribute to a war that would finally be over. He would never have to face the consequences of betraying a world he had promised to save. He would never have to explain his willingness to send a child to her death.

  There was no place for Salvador in a Web without war. His purpose had been fulfilled, he had made up for his sins, and his time had come to move on.

  Yes, it was a fitting end to the life he had lived, and the Scourge welcomed it with open arms.

  Salvador stepped forward and descended into darkness as he left the Web once and for all.

  50

  Aniya lay on her back, looking up and watching the stars.

  These were her favorite moments, resting on the roof of her shack and watching the skydome above slowly turn, revealing a dazzling display of stars. It was a sight so intricately designed that it was easy to forget that the Glorious Bringers of Light, who took time to place each star in an aesthetically pleasing manner, were also responsible for so much pain in her life.

  The only thing that made these getaways any better was when Aniya would stay out late enough to break curfew and watch the stars with Nicholas by her side. It was a pastime that had begun innocently enough years ago, when their hands would meet and embrace with no thought beyond mutual comfort.