Sepia Blue-Sisters: A Sepia Blue Thriller

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “What is it?”

  “Reed’s com has gone dead.”

  “What do you mean dead?” Gan asked. “I just spoke to him. What about the transport group?”

  The agent hesitated as Gan turned to face him.

  “The group is gone, sir,” the agent answered. “All five coms down.”

  “All five?” Gan asked. “Try Reed’s again.”

  “Unresponsive, sir,” the agent answered. “We have his last known location. Should I assemble a team?”

  Gan rubbed his chin for a few seconds before shaking his head.

  “No, no team,” Gan said. “If the group is down we can only expect the worst.”

  “Sir?” the agent asked.

  “I will deal with this personally,” Gan said. “Send me his coordinates.”

  “Are you sure, sir?” the agent said. “I mean, coms go dead for many reasons. It doesn’t mean he’s down, sir.”

  “I expect the coordinates on my device before I leave,” Gan answered as he looked at the red circle that represented Reed’s last known location.

  “Yes, sir, sending them now, but I don’t think this needs your personal attention, sir.”

  “Wait—don’t send them yet,” Gan said. “Follow me.”

  Gan waved the red circle away and pressed the side of the sphere, turning it opaque and activating a jammer to prevent eavesdropping.

  I need to find this mole. Before it’s too late, thought Gan.

  “You’re Carter, yes?” Gan asked. He turned to the agent once the sphere was blocked off from the rest of the situation room.

  “Yes, sir,” Carter answered. “How did you—”

  “I make it a point to know all of the people who work with me,” Gan answered. “This presents me with a unique problem.”

  “A problem, sir?”

  “Someone has betrayed the Gray,” Gan said. “You are going to help me find this person.”

  “How can I help, sir?”

  “The first thing I want you to do is disconnect Reed’s com,” Gan said. “As far as anyone knows, Reed is still out on a mission and his com failed.”

  “Yes, sir,” Carter said. “But won’t someone notice that?”

  “I’m counting on it,” Gan answered. “If anyone so much as mentions that his com is offline you make it a point to remember that person.”

  “I understand, sir. Whoever asks is the person who has betrayed the Gray?”

  “Not necessarily, but it may lead us to the person who has,” Gan said. “Can you do this?”

  “I can, sir.”

  “We have to accept that they are all dead, Carter,” Gan said. “Whoever betrayed us won’t leave witnesses—I wouldn’t.”

  “What were they transporting, sir?”

  “I can’t share that with you without putting you in danger,” Gan said.

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Good, now encrypt and send me those coordinates,” Gan said. “If Reed is down we may have lost more than one of our best agents.”

  THIRTEEN

  “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Jas said.

  “Besides that one?” Sepia said.

  Jas shook her head.

  “Yes, I mean no, can I ask you something?” Jas said. “Something besides this question, I mean.”

  Sepia smiled to herself in the dark. She made it a point to adjust her glasses to cover her eye. It had been giving off more illumination than usual.

  The glasses usually keep it hidden. Must be the park.

  They were just outside the Keep but well within the wards that kept them safe. Around them, the park was bustling with sounds of life. Creatures rustled in the bushes. Birds flew through the night and larger creatures lumbered in the trees. The park itself thrummed with energy.

  “Ask, before you tie a knot in your tongue,” Sepia said.

  “I heard that you can’t take a life,” said Jas. “That you won’t kill.”

  Sepia sighed and looked at Jas. She adjusted her glasses again to make sure they didn’t slip down her face as she spoke.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “I overheard some of the Sisters talking about a Hunter who can’t kill and what a waste it was,” said Jas. “They said you even think Unholy life is worth protecting. Is that true?”

  “Yes, all life is worth protecting,” Sepia said. “Even Unholy life.”

  “But they are monsters,” Jas said. “They only want to kill us.”

  “Let me ask you a question,” Sepia started. “What requires more power—taking a life or preserving it?”

  “Preserving it,” Jas said after a few moments.

  “It’s not that I can’t or haven’t killed,” Sepia said. “I just won’t kill needlessly unless I have no choice. If it comes down to the Unholy or me, I will always choose me.”

  “You would allow them to live?” Jas asked. “They aren’t normal.”

  “Neither am I,” Sepia said with a slight edge to her voice. “Does that mean someone should hunt me too? You aren’t normal either. Should I kill you because you’re different?”

  “That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry, I meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” Sepia said and put a hand on Jas’s shoulder to calm her down. “That’s the problem. When it’s okay to destroy someone because they’re different, where do you draw the line?”

  “But the Unholy are trying to kill us, aren’t they?”

  “And we are trying to kill them, aren’t we?”

  “I’m confused,” Jas said. “I thought they were our enemies.”

  Sepia held up a hand.

  “Listen,” she said. “You hear that? The noises in the park?”

  Jas nodded.

  “Those are the sounds of the Unholy prowling about,” Sepia continued. “The only things keeping us alive right now are the wards around the Keep. If not for them, we would be fighting for our lives right now.”

  “I’m glad we have those wards,” Jas said.

  “The fact that they would attack doesn’t make them evil,” Sepia said. “I have met humans who are worse than some of the Unholy.”

  “Well said, Hunter,” said a voice from behind them.

  Jas jumped, startled, and drew her guns. She stumbled back when she saw the woman behind her.

  “Put those away,” Sepia said. “Wouldn’t do you any good anyway. Hello, Calisto.”

  Jas holstered her guns as she stood and dusted herself off.

  “Well met, Hunter,” Calisto said as she sat on the ground near them. She was wearing dark jeans, hiking boots and a light sweater with her long brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Around her body floated what appeared to be small crystals that glistened in the night. Next to her padded a small silver bear. Across her back rested a crossbow and quiver of diamond-tipped arrows.

  “Who is that?” Jas asked. “Is that a polar bear?”

  “Jas, this is Calisto,” Sepia said. “I’m guessing that is Ursa?”

  The small bear looked at Sepia and gave her a nod. Sepia returned the gesture with a slight nod of her own.

  “Yes,” Calisto answered. “Chimera destroyed his last form but not his essence. It took considerable time and power to restore him.”

  Ursa sat down next to Calisto and stared at Jas. His eyes gleamed blue as they reflected the low light.

  I swear he does that intentionally, thought Sepia.

  “How are you still alive?” Sepia asked. “Gan told me you sacrificed yourself.”

  “He didn’t say I died, did he?” Calisto asked as she crossed her arms. “Where is your sword, Hunter?”

  “He didn’t give me details,” Sepia answered, “only that you made a sacrifice for all of us. Had to give my sword back to the Order.”

  “Ganriel can be overly dramatic,” Calisto said. “I tried to stop Chimera. I failed and now I am tethered to the park.”

  “For how long?” Sepia asked.

  “Until I can undo the blood ward,
” Calisto whispered. “Are you certain the Order has your sword?”

  “What do you mean?” Sepia asked. “I saw the Gray agent take it.”

  “That is not the same as the Order having it, is it?” Calisto said. “If the Unholy get a named blade, the consequences could destroy us all.”

  “Why?” Jas asked. “What’s so special about a named blade?”

  “I cannot remain here long,” Calisto said. “Leave the park and retrieve your blade, Hunter, before we are all undone.”

  The crystals around Calisto began to rotate slowly. Her body became transparent as she began to fade into the night. Ursa bounded into the trees and disappeared from view.

  “I can’t leave yet,” Sepia said. “Can you tell me where the rift is?”

  “The rift?” Calisto asked. “If you use your sight you can find it—but venturing near the rift is courting death.”

  “See, that’s what I call a serious warning,” Jas said. “The kind of warning that requires we listen and stay away from the rift.”

  “Yes,” Sepia whispered. “You are quite skilled at following instructions and listening. I got that at the gauntlet and by your being here.”

  Jas remained silent. Sepia removed her glasses and looked into the park. The green light from her eye spilled into the night. She sensed Jas taking a few steps back.

  Use my sight? What does she mean?

  She closed her right eye and tried looking into the park with her left. The glow intensified. Images flashed before her vision, but she could not understand them. She saw a large obelisk, and then a sharp pain seized the left side of her face.

  An obelisk? I thought they were all destroyed.

  “Um, Sepia, your eye,” Jas said as she scrambled back even farther, looking past Sepia. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Sepia said as she turned to look at Jas. “What’s wrong?”

  Jas pointed behind Sepia. She opened her mouth but no sound escaped. Every muscle in her body was taut with fear.

  “A...a…behemoth,” Jas finally managed to whisper as the park erupted around them.

  “A what?” Sepia said, turning at the noise behind her.

  Sepia put her arms up reflexively as a fist the size of a small car crashed into her.

  FOURTEEN

  “I need to acquire an item from the Bryant Park archive,” Marks said to the older man seated across from him.

  The old man was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a loose-fitting sweater. His jacket rested on the chair next to him. He crossed his legs and picked at the laces of his boots as he listened. He sat comfortably in Marks’ office without a hint of fear.

  “Bryant Park?” the old man said. “No one goes in there. Too dangerous.”

  “I need to go in,” Marks said. “And I need your help.”

  “No,” the old man said. “I enjoy breathing, and living in general.”

  Marks steepled his fingers and looked at the old man.

  “Mr. Winters, may I call you Nathan?” Marks asked.

  “Suit yourself,” Nathan answered. “But my answer remains the same. Regional sealed off that archive for a good reason. Everything that was left in there after the sealing was considered too dangerous.”

  “I was told you were the best archivist the Order has,” Marks said.

  “Had,” Nathan said. “I’m retired and intend to stay that way.”

  “I see, can you excuse me a second?” Marks asked.

  Marks picked up his phone and pressed a button. The call went through seconds later. Kala’s rough voice came over the speakerphone.

  “Do I erase her?” Kala asked. “Or do my men get to enjoy some alone time before we finish her?”

  “I have Nathan Winters here. Can you tell him where you are?” Marks said.

  Kala read off an address as Nathan’s eyes grew wide. His nails dug into the wood of the chair until his knuckles were white.

  “Please stand by while I speak with Nathan here,” Marks said. He turned to face Nathan. “You thought she was hidden and safe. She isn’t.”

  “You bastard,” whispered Nathan. “If you touch one hair on her—”

  “Yes, yes, you will rain vengeance on me, etcetera and so forth,” Marks said, and stood to look out of the window. “Here is the reality. I say one word and your daughter is gone, erased from existence. All because you refused to assist me.”

  “You’re insane,” Nathan said. “That archive will kill us both.”

  “It’s a risk I am willing to take,” Marks said. “Are you willing to do the same with your daughter’s life?”

  “No,” Nathan answered. “Call them off. I’ll take you to the archive.”

  Marks picked up the phone again.

  “Please leave the young lady intact and continue on your original mission,” Marks said. “But we want to make sure the young Miss Winters is safe. Leave some men to watch her.”

  “I said I would take you,” Nathan said. “There’s no need for that.”

  “Oh, consider this insurance, in case you have a change of heart,” Marks said. “We leave in thirty minutes.”

  FIFTEEN

  The impact of the blow launched her deep into the trees away from the Keep, the wards and safety.

  Her ink flared as it knitted the bones on her left side. Her alignment with Perdition had accelerated the process. She gasped in pain as the warmth of her ink transformed into a hot flash. She landed on her back and rolled to a stop.

  “That…hurt,” she said. “And that was definitely a behemoth.”

  She heard the crashing of trees getting closer. She stood shakily as the sound approached her location. Her ink flared all over her body.

  The behemoth stepped through a gap in the trees and smiled at her. It stood ten feet tall. Its hands were gnarled masses formed into fists. Its body looked like a boulder come to life—sharp angles and lines. If it sat still she could easily mistake it for one.

  “How did you get through the wards around the Keep?”

  “You called me, Hunter,” it said. Its voice was a growl with an undercurrent of glass being crushed.

  Sepia unsheathed her blades, leaving her gun holstered.

  Explosive rounds will only tickle it.

  “I don’t remember making that call,” Sepia said. “How about you go back to wherever you came from and we go our separate ways?”

  The behemoth looked around. “This is where I come from,” it said. “You are in my home.”

  It has a point there.

  She held her blades in a defensive stance and let her awareness expand. Unholy were converging on her location. She pushed that to the side and looked for Jas. She found her near the Keep.

  Good girl. Go inside and stay safe.

  The behemoth slid to the side, closing the distance in the space of a breath and brought a massive fist down. Sepia jumped to the side, avoiding the attack. A small crater filled the space where she had stood seconds earlier.

  So damn fast. Can’t dodge forever. Time to move.

  She feinted to the left. The behemoth shifted to block her way and she rolled right and ran. The howl of Dreadwolves filled the night as she ran deeper into the park. She pulled a mental map using the Keep as a reference.

  Need to get to the other side of the lawn and then into one of the ravines.

  She veered left and headed down a winding path into a large, sprawling lawn. Behind her, she heard the behemoth change direction and follow.

  “This is getting ugly fast,” she said to herself as she picked up the pace and dashed across the lawn. A silver bear materialized beside her as she ran.

  “Ursa, it’s good to see you but this one is out of your league,” Sepia said. “Go back to Calisto.”

  The bear snuffled and pulled ahead of her. It started running faster and led her to a large rock formation. She took off after it.

  Where are you taking me?

  Ursa leaped over the rock formation and disappeared. Sepia followed and climbed o
ver the formation. She scaled the topmost edge and found herself freefalling into a crevice. She landed ten seconds later in a frigid underground lake. Ursa sat at the edge of the lake, looking at her.

  “A little warning would have been nice,” she said as she stepped out of the water. “And don’t pretend you don’t understand me. I know you do.”

  Ursa shook his body as she approached, drenching her again, and snuffled. He pointed down the cave with his nose, nudging Sepia farther into its depths.

  “What is this place?” she said. Her voice bounced off the walls, repeating the question several times.

  Above her, she could hear the Dreadwolves around the entrance of the crevice. A few seconds later, the sound of pounding could be felt throughout the cave. Dust and debris started falling into the lake. Ursa pushed her from behind. The passageway presented a sharp incline down into another chamber. Sepia entered the second chamber and noticed several passages that led out of the second room. Ursa lumbered ahead and walked to one of the passages before stopping and sitting on his haunches. He gave Sepia a low growl.

  “I get it,” Sepia said. “This is the one.”

  She reached out slowly and put a hand on Ursa’s neck, rubbing it. He remained motionless for a moment and then growled again.

  “I’m going,” Sepia said as she headed into the opening. “Thank you.”

  Ursa grunted and padded away from the passage.

  Halfway down the path, Sepia heard the crash of the ceiling caving in. She turned back to see that the entrance to the passage behind her was blocked.

  Solves one problem. Creates another.

  As she continued down the passage, she felt her ink flare. Pain cascaded over her as she fell to her knees. With each breath, the pain intensified. She crawled back up the passage and the pain lessened enough for her to breathe freely. Calisto materialized next to her.

  “This passage leads to the rift,” Calisto said. “You desired to find it and it seemed the safest place for you considering the circumstances.”