“That was Coriolus, my unfortunate peer in the Departmentum Expeditia—but we have no time for introductions or formalities. The test!” Titus said.
Titus had gone very serious at the sight of Coriolus and his mice.
“What’s this test? I haven't studied,” Andy said, suddenly anxious.
“No, not like your schoolhouse tests. The praetor will test your character, test your loyalty, and test your eyes. The first and the last you have already proven. But the second—”
“Look, Titus, I don't have time for this. I need to find Letty. She and her family have been taken. You mice are everywhere, especially when something weird is happening. Let's put off the test and find her. Together we might—”
Titus shook his head sadly. “That isn't how things work here, Lysander. If you run from the test they'll—” He took a heavy breath and ran a finger across his throat.
Andy grimaced and looked to the praetor. “But I just helped—”
“Of course you did. The failed attempt to sabotage your introduction by the Gulas might be just what saves your life—” Andy tried to interrupt, but Titus spoke over him, “The praetor's guard is coming to escort you to the Amphitheater. Do as they say! Answer honestly. Coriolus will try to derail us, but I have a plan to deal with him. I'm sorry I can't feed you yet, they're eager to start.”
“Titus! I have to find Letty; I don't have time for this!”
“You have to save yourself first.”
Despite the mouse face, Andy saw concern in his expression.
“Newcomer! You will accompany us to the Amphitheater. We are ready to receive you.” The guards were cordial, but Andy could tell by their stances that they were ready to fight at the slightest hint of disobedience.
Andy followed the escort deeper into town, but they marched quickly, and he could only glance at the floating structures and the mice among them.
“What is your city called?”
“Sentinel's Watch,” a bodyguard said.
The cobblestone lanes and plazas terminated against a wall of sculptures and artifacts that ringed the outer portion of the city. The inner portion butted against a mountain that reached up to the cavern ceiling and the lights there.
The portal into the park is back where the city meets the mountain, near the mouse-sized fortresses.
The statuary that ringed the city shone with a silver glow that was dwarfed by the riotous colors pulsing so far above. Despite the contrast, Andy felt himself drawn to the warm light.
“What's with the wall of statues?” Andy asked.
The bodyguard seemed confused by the question, “They are all Grecian. Many are Athenian, though the western flank is largely Corinthian. Most date to 400 BC.”
Andy found this surprising. What he wanted to know was why they were there, but at hearing this, his line of thought changed. “How long have they been here?” He asked, still not convinced.
The bodyguard didn't answer. His question had prompted a pained look that Andy could just see, thanks to the guard’s raised visor.
“Why do they shine like that?”
“Positive etherium pigment keeps away most trouble. It coats many of our weapons too.”
Etherium?
Andy walked with them over the path prepared between the mountain blocks. He saw Cygnus floating near the fortified cavern wall. Engineers were busy at work repairing the cracks. He caught sight of mouse children running from mountain to mountain across rope and plank bridges. They were watching him attentively and whispering.
When they approached the Amphitheater, Andy noticed that Titus was already present. The mice could walk under their floating mountains, where his human sized path zig-zagged across town.
The Amphitheater was carved out of the cavern wall. The great ring of rising seats reached to about twice his height. Every seat was taken.
He remembered standing in center of a stadium once as a child. It was an empty stadium his father got them into, and he learned that it seated 50,000 people. Despite his new size, this amphitheater looked the same.
Is this 50,000, mice? Is it more?
Andy started to feel nervous. He saw the praetor, Titus, Coriolus, and a few other, older mice, in what reminded him of graduation robes, complete with mortarboards and colored cords. The group was in heated discussion.
“He must stand before each trial now. None may be delayed!” Coriolus was reading from a scroll, “It is spelled out plainly, look here—” he gestured angrily, trying to get Titus and the praetor to pay attention.
“Listen here, you sad coward, the boy has saved lives, lives your poorly led cohort put in danger! You should be hanging your tail in shame and skulking back to the shadows after that blatant sabotage!”
Andy was grateful to have Titus on his side.
“Would you accuse the Gulas of your own treachery?” Coriolus feigned a look of disgust and shock all at once.
The praetor raised a brow at the saber-rattling, ending their argument. He gestured to the audience. “Will the boy face the challenges immediately? Vote now!”
The mice crowding the stage rushed to their seats. Andy watched as each mouse cast a token into one of two, almost imperceptible holes at the base of each seat. Two tanks received the tokens, one marked Yea, and the other Nay.
Andy was surprised at how swiftly the tanks filled with tokens. Though both were filling at the same pace, many were still discussing the issue before casting their vote. But then Andy noticed the Gulas, by the green brocade and plumage they wore, jostling through the seated mass of mice, nudging here and whispering there. He saw coins change paws.
They're giving out bribes!
Andy looked at the praetor, who could clearly see what was happening.
“Praetor, sir?”
“Silence!” A guard called up to him.
Titus looked his way and motioned for him to remain quiet.
The vote was in. Yea had won.
“The trials will begin immediately,” the praetor announced.
Coriolus cast a smug glance their way.
“Retrieve!” The praetor called. The mice rushed the stage in waves. Dozens of dispensers on the sides of the tanks returned the tokens.
Andy expected it to take forever, but again, they were swift. A few mice tried to take more than one token. These were apprehended by the guards, lashed, and thrown out.
“Very well,” the praetor announced. “So we begin. Scribes?”
“Present and able!” the robed mice said, scrolls and quills at the ready.
“State your name for the Misenmot!”
“And—hm—” Andy cleared his throat. “Lysander Vanavarre.”
“Proof and a voucher?”
Andy could only stare.
“I and the whole Dextra vouch for Vanavarre!” Titus called out.
Coriolus jumped to his feet and shouted, “I—and the Gula counter-vouch against this invader!”
The praetor was tired of the bickering. “There is no such stance, Coriolus. Scribes, count the boy vouched—but proof?”
Andy found his wallet in a back pocket and produced his school ID. He held it out for them to see.
“Down here, boy.” The praetor waved him down.
Andy slowly took a knee, careful not to crush anyone, and held out the card. Thousands of mice leaned forward to look.
“Can we trust a document from the tainted halls of men?” Coriolus bellowed.
“Indeed!” Titus retorted, “What other proof can a human offer? And further, what proof would a hateful traito—erm—What proof could ever satisfy you?” Titus struggled to hold back another wave of furious insults.
The praetor motioned him to take the ID away. “Identity proven!”
A quick cheer went up from the crowd, though the guards motioned for silence. Andy saw that many were on his side.
“How did you come to this place, Vanavarre?” The praetor asked.
The audience quieted, listening for his reply. “I fol
lowed the sign, the Infiniteye.”
There was a curious mumbling.
“The boy has clearly seen the sign; he has found this place, but let us hold to tradition.” The praetor paused and held up a scroll. “What do you see here?”
Andy leaned in.
There's nothing there.
He suddenly felt nervous.
What do they expect me to say?
He remembered Titus urging him to be honest.
“I see nothing.”
The audience heaved a sigh of relief.
“And here.” Another scroll unfurled.
The Infiniteye glowed across the page.
“This is the symbol I followed.”
A cheer went up, far louder than the first.
“The blood is strong,” Titus insisted.
The guards struggled to silence the crowd. Coriolus and his men struck a menacing contrast with their grim faces.
“The proof stands, you have the violet eyes, you see, but are not yet a Seer in the eyes of our order.”
Andy took a deep breath.
One last test.
“Loyalty—the most difficult to prove,” the Praetor said.
Titus approached the stage, Coriolus close behind.
“The boy saved Cygnus! His muscles tore, and his body crashed against our walls to preserve our own from destruction! Countless lives spared a gruesome death. The boy's heart is pure!” Titus concluded, glaring at Coriolus and daring him to disagree.
The praetor gestured for Coriolus to say his part. “Yes, the boy helped to save Cygnus from a potential catastrophe—I won't dwell on the fact that the catastrophe was suspicious in the first place.” He cast a doubtful glance towards Titus and Andy. “But the praetor said it best a moment ago. Some virtue acts in an instant, without thought. Yet, it is a different being altogether who has a moment to think. This boy must be tested in a way that proves his loyalty over the long term. Give his thoughts the chance to be self-serving, and you will likely find that the boy abandons us to his baser desires.”
He’s right, I can't sit around for a long test. I need to find Letty.
Andy glanced at Titus, who pointed back to the audience with a forceful look.
“There! See there how the boy looks to his handler, who most assuredly coached him through this test—and dare I venture to lay blame for the late catastrophe at their scheming feet as well!”
There was a grumble at this.
“I—only—” Andy stumbled over his words. He felt himself getting angry, “You unchained Cygnus and lost control of it!”
“Or perhaps when you sunk your titan's claws into our homes, you wrested control and created a false emergency—a false emergency! For the purposes of ingratiating yourself upon fine, unsuspecting mice such as these,” Coriolus gestured out to the crowd.
The praetor raised a palm to calm the grumbling. “We will hear no accusations. This assemblage must decide the boy's fate. An investigation will be the forerunner to any decision on the Cygnus incident.”
That soothed the crowd. The praetor scratched his chin and wondered for a moment.
“I propose the young Vanavarre escort our foragers from Cair Fromage back to Sentinel’s Watch. His presence will intimidate the bandits and the Vychy alike, and prove his patience and loyalty to our purpose. He will also have the chance to learn more about us and our traditions.”
The crowd approved of the proposal. The Gulas did not. Coriolus tried to interrupt, but the praetor continued before he had a chance, “Vote!”
The mob voted as the Gulas rushed in with bribes, but it was too late. Andy watched as the tube marked Yea filled almost to the top.
“So, it is decided!” The praetor called. “Young Vanavarre, I attach you as a specialist to the Dextra cohort under the command of Expeditious Extraordinary Titus. You will set out at once for Cair Fromage.”
The crowd cheered and Titus climbed up to his shoulder in an instant, “Don't be brash! I know what you're thinking.”
Andy was thinking that he had no time for escort duty.
“Listen to me! Turn around and walk! And for God's sake don't step on anyone!”
Andy sighed and did as he was told, taking extra care of his feet around the hordes of mice.
Titus called out to the crowd, “Dextra!”
A few hundred voices went up from their places in the crowd, “Aye!”
“Armaments and supplies for two day's travel. Form up outside the Twins!”
“Aye, sir!”
Andy saw the blue sashes and plumage of the Dextra move with purpose through the crowds.
“Titus—” Andy whispered when they were free from the masses.
“No, do not complain!” Titus interrupted loudly into his ear. “We are lucky to get what we did; I think the praetor approves of you, but Coriolus almost had us.”
Andy sighed. “If I leave to find Letty, what will happen to me?”
Titus paused before whispering, “He's sent us in the likeliest direction to find her.”
“What?” Andy gasped, “Really?”
Titus grabbed him by the collar, “Keep it down, boy! Your voice will shatter windows, and rouse suspicion.”
“Sorry,” Andy whispered, “but, what's the plan? When do we leave?”
Titus laughed and tugged on Andy's shirt collar to turn him right. “That way first.”
They approached a few tall silos. “You need to eat and drink, so do my mice.” Titus climbed down and found a few of his Dextra stocking their packs with supplies. “Head out past the twins—the two sisters armed for war—and turn right after about one hundred of your giant steps. There is a spring and a well laden apple tree. Eat and drink your fill, but be quick about it, and meet us back by the twins.”
Chapter 8
The Netherscape
Andy followed the canal of Sentinel’s Watch to the wall of glowing statuary that ringed the settlement. He found the gateway chained and saw the statues on both sides were twin women bearing round shields and short swords.
Andy bent and stuck a leg through the chains. Halfway through, he noticed a pair of guards staring at him from the ground. Embarrassed, Andy explained, “I’ve got to help out at Cair—something.”
They nodded. “Cair Fromage, and you could have waited a moment; we would’ve taken the chains down.”
Still hunched, Andy blinked. “Sorry about that, I’ll remember next time.”
One guard rolled his eyes, while the other shrugged.
I didn’t see them and now they think I’m being rude. I need to pay attention.
With the embarrassment behind him, Andy followed the canal and saw the grove of apple trees. He took in the sight of a wide pool nestled between the trees. He heard the stream trickling in from the cavern wall and saw the colors, high above, reflecting in the still water.
The apples look great, or maybe I’m just starving.
Andy walked the distance and ran a hand over a trunk. The tree seemed normal, but something bothered him. Was it too dark for trees to grow?
He looked at the cavern ceiling and saw the endless expanse of glowing vines.
“Hmm.”
Andy noticed that the leaves weren’t quite green, though he had a hard time saying what color they were. He thought purple, or a deep red.
Hunger reasserting itself, he ignored the leaves and plucked a few apples. He bit into the first and found it refreshing. He quickly ate three and then knelt down by the spring.
This water flows into the town, it must be good to drink.
Andy felt a slight nervousness about drinking, but he cupped his hands in the stream and drank. Everything grew brighter as the cool water ran down his throat. It was perfect.
Andy drank more and more. He felt his vision clearing. He took a deep breath and felt calmness come over him. He sat still, above the water and let the moment stretch, until he sensed something was wrong.
He felt eyes, watching.
Andy had the urge to
bolt back to town, but kept still.
He took a breath and let his gaze drift towards a slight motion. There was a staring face. It poked through an embankment of reeds a few feet away. The face was expressionless and smooth, like carved glass.
He heard a snap and the thing shot from the reeds and was on him in seconds.
“Stay back!” Andy tumbled as he rolled to his feet, his hands and knees suddenly muddy from the rush.
“Back, back, back, ever back.” A hollow voice resounded through the grove. It was right behind him and distant all at once.
The lithe frame with the glass face circled, turning its body by degrees as it weaved between trees, though its eyes locked on him for every moment of their circuitous chase.
Andy slammed against a tree. The thing lurched sideways, leaping one moment, then shuffling and lunging the next. It stopped, inches from his face.
“Back to before you.”
“What?” Caught by its blank, dead eyes, Andy thought he was in a nightmare. “What do you want?”
It stared at him, face to face. After its excited dance, Andy noticed that, in contrast to his heaving for breath, the thing was now motionless.
“Permit, will.” Its hand shot up to Andy’s forehead, and paused an inch away, as if waiting for consent.
Andy slipped between the thing and the tree. “Don’t touch me!” He backed away, tripped over a root and tumbled to the ground.
“Permit!” The sound had a tinnier, almost insistent edge as it coursed through the trees.
Andy backed away on his hands. He was shaking and couldn’t stand. He looked up and saw there was something more to its face.
It danced a step forward. Its torso spun independently of its legs and a second face locked onto his.
At first, the faces might look identical, but there were fine differences. One bore the vaguest trace of a grimace, where the other had its brows just turned up in an expression of grief.
“Who are you?” Andy asked.
“Two things, neither of them now.” The words came to him through the reeds. “I see her.”
That was the last thing he expected it to say.
Does it mean Letty?
The Python of Caspia Page 12