Ghosts of Koa, The First Book of Ezekiel

by Colby R Rice

  Zeika hadn't dared to leave the Forge in the past four days, not even during daylight. Things had become too tense. People were trying to flee the Fifth with their children, all of them getting stopped and arrested at the border. Zeika and Manja themselves had barely been able to avoid the slow creep of APs as they oozed out of every crack and dark alley, walking right by the kunja dealers to shake Civilian kids down without impunity. Also, there were the rumors. Private interrogations. Violence. Disappearances. She had convinced herself there was no way she was taking Manja back out there, not even for bartering runs. Not unless they had no other choice.

  Today, their choices had run out.

  The food was gone, and since Zeika hadn't made a trade in days, it was coming time for her to sneak out of their hole and make some money. So she sat at her desk while Manja sat on top of it, and they beamed a lamp light down on a one-eyed teddy bear, checking for fleas or bedbugs.

  "No nasties," Manja whispered, poking the bear in the stomach.

  Good, great. That was an extra two bucks they could score. She was writing the price down when heavy thumps came at the door.

  "Open up," a strangely smooth voice commanded. "I've a question for you."

  Zeika looked up, brow creased. She directed a silent look towards Manja, and the little girl slipped across the floor and buried her way into the tall stack of blankets, cocooning herself inside. Zeika then reached under the desk and grasped the mounted Beretta 9mm with trembling fingers, remembering the extra one in her sash.

  "Questions without appointments do not receive answers, friend," she responded casually to the accented voice. "Please visit during our open hours."

  "I'm afraid that's not possible. You see, I'm not asking you."

  She was rising out of her chair when, suddenly, the metal locks on the door began to shriek and fold in on themselves, curling backward against the frame. The door opened, and the light from her office outlined a figure she didn't recognize.

  She gritted her teeth as her trust in Caleb was blasted away. This was it. He'd figured out that she was an unregistered Civic Alchemist and had sent the authorities. Bastard didn't even have the balls to come himself.

  She wanted to scream, throw something, curse him for making them targets, but instead, she calmly sat back down in her seat. Whoever this was, he wasn't Caleb, and from the way this guy had just ripped her door open without raising a hand, she guessed that he wasn't about the diplomacy either. She needed to focus.

  The man walked in, slowly, surveying the shop. She watched him, noting the deliberate way he marked the surroundings. Everything in her wanted to pull the gun, but a look at the broken lock reminded her it would be useless. She cast a quick glance at the pile of clothes in the corner. The rags were trembling. She had to keep his attention on her alone.

  "Lovely night," she muttered.

  His eyes finally settled on her, and as the quicksilver of his gaze set itself into her bones, she felt her body warmth plummet. He came forward, and Zeika had to force herself to not feel intimidated by how big he was. Over six feet, rippling with muscle, a hood draping a dark shadow over the ash gray of his eyes. He was fully equipped: two Glocks, a knife at his left shoulder, some extra clips at his lower holster. He had no problem getting in her face, either, coming almost nose-to-nose as he dropped a tattered piece of parchment on her desk.

  "You're violating curfew."

  Zeika's eyes narrowed, her fingers curling more tightly around the gun under the table. Something about his energy was cold and heavy, and as he stared at her, she got the impression that he wasn't an AP. Not at all.

  "Can I see your badge?"

  "No."

  "Then get out. I don't know who you are, but you damn sure don't have the authority to come in here and push me around."

  "Do not test me, child," the Azure cooed. "If I decide to move on you, no one will find the pieces. Understand?"

  In spite of herself, she squared her shoulders and slowly stood to a stand. "You have no intention of letting me walk out of here alive, Azure. I can smell blood all over you."

  "Oh?" A smile slipped onto the man's face. "Can you now?"

  A cold blast shot down the back of her neck, and she leapt sideways, her body moving before she told it to, and felt the horrible sound of the chair disintegrating in a crack of splintering wood.

  She tumbled, crashing awkwardly up against a bookshelf before she scrambled to her feet and pulled her other gun from her obi sash. Heart hammering, she aimed wildly at the thing that had almost killed her, trying to understand what she was looking at, which part of it to shoot--

  Oh God...

  Some kind of opaque and inky creature, like emptiness and plague personified, crawled up from the wreck. Its onyx-toned back rippled formlessly against the light, nearly extinguishing its glow like a black hole before a sun, and as it stood to its full height next to the Azure, she knew that she was looking into the eyes of Death.

  Zeika aimed with two shaking hands as it turned towards her. The thing stood between her and Manja, and whatever this was, bullets weren't going to be enough; she knew it just by the unfazed way it was looking at her, by the sheer glee in the Azure's eyes as he watched.

  "My darling," the silver-eyed man began again. "Do not speak ill to an Azure. As you can see, it almost cost you your life."

  "What the fuck do you want?!"

  "COTCH!"

  The shadow turned to the door with wet clicks, and the Azure, "Cotch", followed suit. Despite the betrayal, Zeika couldn't help but feel relieved as Caleb stalked into the shop, his gun drawn. He was aiming at the creature.

  "Rescind it, Cotch," he snarled. "Or I'll send it back for you."

  Cotch smiled and crossed his arms. Behind him, the living void melted back into the shadows. "Well isn't it the little Prince, late to his own party."

  Zeika watched the color drain from Caleb's face, and then she stiffened as she saw yet another Azure, older and graying, walk in behind him, closing the door. All the broken locks and bolts reaffixed themselves, but in a twisted and entangled mass that no key could open. They were locked in.

  Caleb glanced over his shoulder, eyes blazing. "What the hell is going on, Persaud?!"

  Instead of responding, the older Azure turned to Cotch. "Detain her."

  "No--!" As Caleb started forward, the shadow creature-- now mimicking Cotch's large physique-- slid out from a dark corner and clamped a thick inky bicep around Caleb's neck, making him drop the gun. Caleb was built, but Cotch obviously pumped iron with a black-hearted vengeance, and his strength had passed to his pet. Unless Caleb blasted the thing with some kind of alchemic power, he wasn't getting free.

  Do it. Do it, already, goddamnit.

  He wasn't using his powers, and there was no time to question why. Zeika turned to the creature and sighted down the barrel of the 9 mm-- until the muzzle pinched inward and the rest of the gun followed. She dropped it before the metal could enclose around her hand, and in the next second, Cotch was blocking off her view, spinning her around, and cuffing her.

  "You're under arrest for illegal gun-running, and for violating curfew under the new Articles39. Don't move," he warned. "Or I'll make the metal crush your wrists into pulp." He searched her, confiscating everything she had, money and gun included.

  Then, he dragged her up and shoved her towards Caleb and the old Azure. She could have dissolved the handcuffs, but there were other things to consider. Using her powers as an unregistered Alchemist meant death, reinforcements might be coming behind these assholes, and she still had to get Manja out.

  "So. This is Morgan's little darling." The old Azure surveyed her from a distance. Then he turned to Caleb. "And yours too, from what the winds whisper. Interesting, and fortuitous, that you'd be the other rooster in the cock-fight."

  Cock fight? What the hell was he talking about? Wasn't this about her being an Alchemist? She glanced at Caleb, who looked just as angry and u
nscrewed.

  "How does it feel to be a well-kept woman, Ezekiel? Exhilarating, I'm sure." The old Azure eyed her. He was actually waiting for an answer.

  Zeika struggled against her bonds. "I don't know what you're talking about, but it doesn't have shit to do with me."

  "Oh, on the contrary, my dear. Strangely enough a recent client of mine has requested your amiable company. But I feel you have a higher calling. My client has called you to serve. I, however, am calling you to teach. Are you ready to teach, Miss Anon?"

  Zeika was at a loss. All these crap high-born riddles...

  "How cute." The old Azure said, smiling, taking in her reaction. "What a shame to have to mar such innocence."

  "Whatever it is you bastards want, leave her out of this." Caleb strained under the shadow's grip. "She's done nothing wrong! She's no threat to the Order!"

  "Oh?" The old Azure muttered with amusement. He took a book from one of her shelves and flipped through it. He lifted it to Caleb's face, where Zeika could see a piece of paper materializing in between its pages. The corner of the paper jutted out of the book, and even from her distance, Zeika could see the Koan insignia emblazon itself onto it. "You call this nothing?"

  She felt the wind go out of her.

  "You lying piece of shit!" Caleb snarled. He wheezed as the shadow locked down harder around his neck.

  The old Azure turned back to Zeika. "Gun-running without a license. Building Koan hollows. And now, trafficking for the Knights of Almaut as well. Tsk-tsk, my dear."

  "You can't do this--!" Zeika started forward, but Cotch snatched a handful of her hair and threw her back. Sharp pain cracked across her bones as she hit a bookshelf and crumpled. In the next second Cotch was pressing the sole of his heel into her shoulder, pinning her against the lower shelves.

  "Cotch!" Caleb shouted.

  He smiled as he ground his boot into her-- until a muted flutter broke the silence. He turned his eyes to another bookshelf at the right, and then glared at her with suspicion before he lifted his hand, breaking the hinges of the dumbwaiter behind the shelf. Something heavy, likely the dumbwaiter door, clattered to the floor.

  "You women and your secrets," he murmured with a smile. He walked over to the shelf and began knocking books off until the light from the open shaft peered through.

  Buuurr!

  With a pleasant coo, Munch waddled into the room and cocked his head, surveying the scene. Then he waddled back into the shaft, seemingly displeased by the lack of food. She could hear the other pigeons rustling around.

  "Carriers, Vassal," Cotch reported. He took the messages out of each pigeon's harness and examined them. "With nothing of interest to us."

  "Take care of them."

  Zeika squirmed as she watched Cotch turn to his living shadow demon and lift his hand. A wet, sliding sound filled the room as the demon holding Caleb began to split, a formless cloud of night rising up from its shoulders. Above its head the black mist took the form of something terrible and winged. Talons tipped its curled black feet, and a sickled beak sloped from its raptorial crown.

  "Kill," Cotch commanded, and before Zeika could cry out, the thing flew across the room into the dumbwaiter.

  The wood rattled viciously beneath a cacophony of screams and beating wings. Zeika cried out, the sound of her own voice muted by her tears. Behind strangled caws, feathers fell out of the shaft in bright red clumps, and Cotch watched it all, his eyes dancing above the taut lines of his smile. A smile that widened as Zeika screamed, begged, for him to stop. He looked down at her, watching her squirm and cry beneath his boot.

  "Shshsh," he whispered. "It'll be over soon."

  And it was. All at once the struggle went silent, and the demon crawled from the shaft. A mask of blood drizzled over its large swollen eyes, and clicking its beak, the shadow took flight again.

  "Scatter," Cotch said, and mid-flight, the shadow shattered into tiny black pearls of liquid that rained down on Zeika and the shop. The liquid smelled familiar, a sickening scent she knew all too well. Oil.

  She felt the lapels of her robe shrink beneath Cotch's grip as he hoisted her to her feet and then threw her forward on her knees. Then he grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at Caleb.

  "Child," the older Azure stepped forward as he addressed her. "Do you know why we were able to roll back the Articles39? Do you know why little girls and boys just like you-- are now on the chopping block?"

  "Stop it, Persaud--"

  "Because dear officer Caleb betrayed you."

  Caleb struggled. "YOU LIAR!"

  Persaud smiled. "It was his testimony, his evidence that cited you as a primary suspect in Koan juvenile terrorism. 'Anyone who gets in your way, Civilian and Azure alike, will get handled.' Weren't those your exact words?"

  Zeika's jaw tightened.

  "Were you not at the Lakeside Diner the night it was bombed? Are you not selling arms to unregistered Civilians in your father's absence? Were you not in that Koan Hollow when Caleb found you disassembling weaponry? Speak."

  "Fuck you," she spat. "All of you."

  "Juvenile civvie trash like you are killing the Order from the inside out, and Caleb betrayed you because he knows that. He betrayed you because you are not his kind."

  She looked away.

  "Zeika, none of that is true. I didn't-- I would never-- what the hell are you doing?"

  Confusion hit her, and she looked back up to see that Caleb wasn't talking to her at all. He had stiffened, his eyes wide, his body immobile.

  Persaud walked up beside him, put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm doing for you what you and Morgan cannot do for yourselves. But you will learn the lesson."

  Cotch's shadow let Caleb go, sank into the ground, and rematerialized near the door. Even then, Caleb couldn't move. His arms and hands were curled and frozen mid-air, as though still trying to pry the shadow's arm from his neck. Then, he was moving again, but in spastic, unnatural jerks.

  "Stop, Persaud!"

  Zeika felt her lips part as she watched the old Azure take control of Caleb's body. She watched Caleb's face contort in helpless agony. His arms lowered, one hand reaching out as though to touch her.

  "Do you recall our discussion of 'passion', Caleb?"

  "Don't do this!" Caleb pleaded. "She's innocent!"

  Zeika tried to squirm back, her fear going deep at the thought of what they might make him do. But Cotch tightened his grip on her hair and stepped on her ankle to keep her from moving. No where else to run--

  "Caleb, please," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Don't let them..."

  Caleb's hand turned over, palm up, his fingers trembling. Then she watched as it happened, the air bending and heating up in front of her eyes as four wisps of flame materialized over his palm, dancing ominously. His body relaxed as the old Azure finally released him.

  "Burn her," he commanded darkly. "Even if you bring her in, she will be tried unequivocally as a conspirator against the Order. We'll put her down like a dog. You, however, can give her a softer justice."

  Zeika saw a struggle come into Caleb's face, as he looked at her and then at the fire.

  "I won't do this," he hissed through clenched teeth.

  "As you wish, but if you do not put her down, I can assure you, another Alchemist will."

  Persaud's gaze drifted to Cotch, who began reaching for his knife-- and at the same moment, the struggle in Caleb's face extinguished. He turned over his palm and let the formless petals of flame flutter to the shop floor. With a dry snarl, the fire blossomed along the trails of oil, climbed up the sides of the bookcases, and wrapped around the low hanging hammocks like threads of golden ivy.

  "No! Please!" Zeika cried out. Cotch let go of her, and she crabbed backwards, trying to keep out of range of the grasping fingers of flame.

  Persaud smiled darkly. "Goodbye, child. May you have better fortune in the sweet beyond." He tipped his hat to her and left.

 
Cotch grinned and called back his shadow. The blood-eyed creature morphed and fluttered up on noiseless wings, disappearing into the darkness. Then he stepped over the fire and walked out, leaving Caleb the last one standing.

  Caleb looked torn as he stared down at her. "Live," he whispered.

  The softness in his gaze had returned, but without another word, he stepped back. He cast her one last look-- one of desperate hope-- before he turned his back on her and walked out behind the others. The door closed and the metal lock re-twisted around itself again, locking her and Manja in with the rising flames.

  The dry heat exploded into the shop, and the fire whisked higher, feeding hungrily on the obsidian oil. A thick black bog billowed into the air and curled against the ceiling, slowly filling the room. Beneath the pile of dirty laundry, Zeika could hear small coughs and sobbing. The fire had bitten the top of the clothes pile and was trailing down quickly.

  She turned her cuffs into silk and ripped them from her wrists. She ran to the clothing pile, fell down in front it, and plunged her hands in, practically bulldozing it off Manja. The girl, still clad in her headphones, was shaking and crying, covering her face with her arms.

  "Come on, baby," Zeika whispered as she picked Manja up. "Breathe into my shoulder, right on my shirt, and don't let go of me."

  Manja wrapped her limbs around her torso, pressing her nose into her neck. Zeika ducked down low and crawled around the licking flames, smacking the fiery tongues from her clothes as she struggled to keep her balance with Manja's added weight. Front door was a no go. Not only had the lock been twisted to bar them in, but the Alchemists could also still be there, making sure the hovel was going to burn down completely with them inside.

  Back door.

  She turned around, and in a few frog hops, she was at the back of the room. She took as deep a breath as she could and then stood up into the smoke, feeling around blindly for the keypad. She found it, but what she felt beneath her fingers made her weak with terror. Cotch, the one who could control metal, had completely destroyed the pad on his way out. She hadn't noticed before; she had been far too focused on Caleb and the old Azure. The keypad was bent inwards like crumpled aluminum, the keys themselves smashed to crap. Not that it mattered. The Azures were probably waiting there too, and the cellar was a dead end. They were trapped.