by Todd, E. L.
Nolan stared at him. “You’ve changed so much I hardly recognize you, Aleco.”
“And you haven’t changed at all.” Aleco returned his stare. “And I think that is worse.”
“So, I am to risk my own life and that of my Brothers by overthrowing the most powerful man in the land just so you can be reunited with your lover?”
“That isn’t the only reason—I just explained it to you. Will you agree?”
“I have a choice?”
“Yes,” he said. “I will not force you against your will. Consider this an opportunity to redeem yourself—that was the third reason why I saved you. I’ve lived a life full of crime and have decided to repent for my mistakes—by helping others. It’s probably too late to reserve my seat with the gods, but I will attempt to prove myself anyway. I am offering you the same chance.” Aleco waited for Nolan to make his decision, but he was quiet for a moment. Aleco grew anxious. He needed his aid. “You owe me, Nolan.”
The Chief nodded then took a drink of the brandy. He looked into the flames of the hearth, which had trickled to small flickers because the raging tornado almost extinguished it.
The Chief recalled the first day Aleco had arrived at the guild. He was a mere boy. His investiture in their society was prominent and useful, and Nolan was proud of his apprentice for becoming an adroit killer. The profits of the guild had increased substantially after he joined their cause, and they declined rapidly after his departure.
Aleco’s first right of passage was to kill a slave that tried to escape from one of the carts. The guildsmen hunted him down and returned him to the hideaway, and the Chief decided the slave would be Aleco’s first man to kill. His apprentice flinched before he stabbed the man through the heart. He even refused to do it, but Nolan forced him to. It was the first man Aleco had ever killed.
After that moment, Aleco fell into the abyss of enraged bloodshed. He killed any man he was commanded to, and even executed others he wasn’t obligated to put to the sword. His words became harsher and his thoughts grew darker as he claimed more lives. The Chief knew he was responsible for the assassin he had unleashed, and a part of him regretted what had happened. Aleco shouldn’t have been enlisted in their guild because his heart was too noble. He never belonged there. Instead of caring for his Brother, the Chief exploited his abilities and created a monster for his own gain. He cared for Aleco like a son. He should have treated him as such.
Nolan knew his decision. The choice was as clear as his empty glass. Aleco was right. He did owe him. “Let’s begin.”
The Hideaway
45
The Chief pushed his half eaten plate away and stared at Yubien. “Tell the guildsmen to run the forges throughout the night and every moment of the day.” He took a drink from his water glass then placed it back on the dark wood of the desk. “We need as many swords as we can produce.”
Yubien nodded. “All the guildsmen are adorned with their guild swords,” he said as he met the gaze of the Chief. Nolan’s body was still thin and weary from his confinement, but the resolution in his eyes was unmistakable. He was still as sharp as the edge of a sword. “We have no need for more.”
“That is for me to decide.”
Aleco stepped forward. He had been standing alongside the Chief, just as he used to years ago. It was clear that Aleco had been reestablished as his right hand man, his First Elite Ranger. Yubien felt like he had stepped back in time. Aleco stared at him. “We are at war, Yubien—we must prepare for it.”
“Against who, Brother?” he asked.
“The king,” he said.
Yubien nodded. Drake was their greatest ally, but now he was their greatest enemy. He didn’t know what had provoked the drastic change. The guildsman turned away from the formidable men before him.
“Bring me Devry,” Aleco commanded.
Yubien turned around and met his gaze. Obviously, Aleco hadn’t heard the news. “Devry is dead,” he said. “He was killed by the Death Chasm months ago.”
Aleco dropped his hands to his sides then stepped forward. He looked at Yubien then the Chief. “Why was he killed?”
The Chief poured himself another glass. “Because he helped you escape, Aleco—along with the precious stones.” He returned the lid to the decanter then placed it on the desk. “You thought his treasonous deeds would go unpunished?”
Aleco shook his head. He thought of Devry’s children, Sadie and Vance, and felt the bile rise up his throat. His heart tightened in his chest when he imagined Devry being shoved from the edge into the chasm below. He felt nauseated. Aleco was responsible for the murder of a father—of two children he had come to love. Aleco addressed Yubien without looking at him. “You’re dismissed.”
Yubien looked from Aleco to the Chief, who nodded his approval. “Leave,” he said. Yubien left the Chamber and shut the door behind him.
“How could you kill him?” Aleco straightened his back and approached the desk, both of his hands gripping the edge of the wood.
The Chief stared at him with a stoic expression. Aleco did not frighten him. If he wanted to kill him, he would have done it long ago. “I already told you why, Aleco. After I tortured Devry mercilessly, I pushed him over the edge myself. You have only yourself to blame—he gave up his life so you could keep yours.”
“THE MAN HAD CHILDREN!”
The Chief shook his head. “All the more reason,” he said. He rested his chin on his hand and met Aleco’s gaze. “The fathering of children is against the laws that govern this society—he had it coming anyway.”
Aleco walked away and gripped the hair of his scalp. He was the reason Vance was a bastard—he would never have a father in his life. Remorse flooded Aleco’s body—he never felt worse than he did now. He was happy Accacia would never know of the death of their father—Accacia would never forgive herself. She wouldn’t forgive Aleco.
“Let it go, Aleco.” The Chief remained in his seat, watching Aleco express his anger in his movements. “There is nothing you can do now. Let’s move forward.”
Aleco placed his hands on his hips and sighed. He walked back to the desk and stopped before Nolan, meeting his gaze. He pushed his half eaten plate forward. “Finish it,” he said. “We can’t have a skeleton for a leader.”
The Chief eyed him. “I never thought I would see the day. Aleco has put aside his own anger and desire for vengeance for something greater than himself.” The Chief picked up his forked and took a bite of the chicken on the plate.
“I suggest you do the same.”
Nolan ate the rest of the contents on his plate then pushed it away. He raised his eyebrow at Aleco. “Satisfied?” he asked.
“It’s a start,” he said as he retrieved the Chief’s sword from the rack. “Let’s begin your training. I need you to be strong for the battle—nothing less.”
The Chief rose from his desk and took his sword. His body had become thicker, with an appearance of greater substance from the fluids he had taken in and the food he had eaten, but he was still thin and lithe. The Chief smiled at Aleco. “Is it your turn to train me, Aleco?”
Aleco laughed. “I hope you are up for the challenge.”
“How do you know that I won’t kill you the moment your guard is down?” The Chief followed him to the center of the room with his blade held at his side. Aleco spun his sword around his wrist and the metal shined in the changing light. “That I won’t stab you through the back when you turn away? Or pierce you through the heart while you sleep? How do you know I won’t betray you to the king, insuring my promise of immortality?”
Aleco turned around and faced him in the center of the Chamber. The torches flickered around the walls, nervous from the tension in the air. Aleco spun his blade around his wrist one more time before he adopted a defensive stance. He reached up with his other hand and pulled back his hood, revealing his crystal blue eyes that shined bright from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His chiseled cheekbones cast shadows on the side of his face, making his cou
ntenance appear thin and hollow. His lips were turned into a smile. “Because I know you won’t, Nolan.” He widened his feet to bear his weight and held his sword aloft. “There are far worse things than death—betraying someone you love is one of them.”
Aleco stayed within the hideaway for the next few months. The winter season had come and gone while he remained in the Hideaway, and he prayed that the Naturalists had watched over the well-being of the woodlands. The spring season was at its height and Aleco could feel the heat of the sunlight enter through the holes of the stone ceiling, channeling rays of warmth into the city. Aleco walked through the realm toward the forges, where they were preparing hundreds of swords for the upcoming battle. He stopped when he reached the bridge. Aleco didn’t look down into the chasm below, but he thought about the black crevasse in his mind. Somewhere down there Devry’s corpse was broken—his muscle and skin absent from his body, feeding the snakes that slivered deep in the abyss. Aleco knew he was to blame for his murder—he would trade places with the man if he could. He closed his eyes and looked down into the chasm below. “I’m sorry, Devry.”
Aleco continued forward until he reached the forges. They were smoldering with heat and smoke. The caustic fumes funneled through the pipes in the wall that reached the surface up above. The guildsmen were covered in sweat and they called out to each other, working the machinery that produced the mass of weapons. Aleco walked to Roth, the forge master. “How many?” he asked.
Roth wiped the sweat from his brow. “Five-thousand blades have been created, Aleco. We have done as you asked—have done nothing else but commit ourselves to the task—and we are almost finished.” Roth nodded to the bucket to his right. “That is all that remains of the Tiyian ore, found in the depth of the tunnels of the Hideaway. This is the last time the guild swords will be produced.” Aleco nodded at his words. The original reason why the guildsmen had settled within the confines of the earth was because of the Tiyian metal they found deep within the soil. It was exceptional in its hardness, unable to be broken or dulled by any means except with the heat of the forges. The stone could be struck against a boulder for hours, but the sharpness of the edge would never dull. Only worthy Brothers were bequeathed such immaculate swords. Only they were worthy of it.
Aleco clapped him on the shoulder. “I thank you, Brother. The sacrifice you and your Brothers have made will not go unnoticed.” Aleco raised his voice so the rest of them could hear his words. “I thank you all.”
He left the steaming forges and walked through the city. Training was their biggest priority, and most of the Brothers were being taught the skills of the blade—the ones who had other occupations, such as the blacksmiths, the farmers, and the diplomats. Aleco smiled to himself. Drake didn’t stand a chance against his army of elite fighters. He couldn’t wait to stab his brother through the heart. His momentary high vanished when he thought of Drake’s Soul Binders—he had no idea where he hid them, and he didn’t know how to destroy them either. Aleco forced the thought from his mind—he would figure it out later.
Aleco advanced to the Chamber of the Vast, his home for the past few months, and strode to the Chief. He sat behind the wood of his desk, looking at a field map of Paso Robles. He didn’t look up. “This undertaking is going to be nearly impossible—their release is unnecessary.”
Aleco removed his sword around his waist, placing it into the sword rack next to the hearth. Aleco grabbed a glass of whiskey then sat in the chair before the fire, sipping the amber liquid for a moment. “We have to free the slaves of Paso Robles. There are thousands of people with the walls—we need the manpower.”
The Chief sighed and looked up from the diagram. “What is the point if none of them have the ability to wield a sword?”
“We will train them.”
Nolan shook his head. “There won’t be time. Drake will understand the significance of the event and strike against us. We are better off without them, Aleco.”
“They deserve the chance to stand their ground and fight for their freedom. I am sure they would rather challenge the king than waste away in the confinement of the walls. You haven’t seen the conditions, Nolan—they are horrific.”
The Chief leaned back in his chair and stared at Aleco. The Nature Priest removed his hood and met his gaze—he had no reason to conceal his features any longer. “This plan is doomed, Aleco. Even with the addition of the slaves of Paso Robles, under the assumption we actually secure their release, we are still outnumbered.” The Chief drank from his glass and relished the smoothness of the liquor. The pair of them drank nothing else during their meetings. “We need more men.”
Aleco shook his head. “There are none, Nolan.”
The Chief sighed and looked away from him. The leader of the guild had regained his mass through his training with Aleco, and his physique bulged with muscles along his chest and arms. His stomach was a flat rock and his thighs were swollen with the power to move mountains—he had returned to his former glory. “Please think about this, Aleco. You don’t have a solid plan for this undertaking. You expect to march on the king with a little more than ten-thousand men and find the stones Drake has hidden? Then, you intend to destroy these gems and kill Drake while not having any idea how to accomplish it? This is suicide.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
The Chief threw his glass into the fire. “You are sending all of us to our deaths, Aleco. How can you allow it? You are killing your Brothers for one woman. How is it worth it?”
“This isn’t just about Accacia.” Aleco halted in his words when he said her name. Even after all this time it was still difficult to discuss her. “The men of the Continent deserve their freedom—and the Asquithians deserve their eternal salvation. This is bigger than any of us—larger than all of us.”
The Chief leaned back and rubbed his temple.
“I am not forcing you to do anything, Nolan—step aside if you wish.”
Nolan shook his head. “I will stand beside you, Aleco—even if it costs my life.”
Aleco stared at him. “Why?”
The Chief looked into the dancing flames of the hearth and became lost in thought. Aleco was a man that had walked through the flames of darkness and returned to the other side, becoming something greater, purer. He devoted his life to helping others in payment for the sins he had committed. His motivation was love, not hate, and Nolan respected him for it. He wanted to make amends for what he had done to his favorite apprentice. He wanted him to be happy. Several minutes passed before he responded to Aleco’s query. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Aleco smiled. “I hardly recognize you, Nolan.”
“Nor do I.”
Vast Prison
46
Aleco walked away from the Chamber and down the cobbled streets of the city toward Vast Prison at the end of the road. The torches flickered along the walls and lit the walkway with a dim light. Night had fallen on the world and it was evident from the holes in the ceiling. No light shone from the channels.
He entered the prison and ignored Robinson, who gave him a look of fear as he walked past him. Aleco walked past the cells until he found one in particular. The cage door was missing and the cell was unoccupied, open to the hallway. Aleco walked inside and leaned his back against the wall, just as he had done the last time he was a prisoner in the room. He looked around the cell, remembering the smell of the rusty metal and the softness of the hay below his feet. He recalled the touch of Accacia’s lips on his own. The first time he had kissed her.
Her essence was absent in the prison, but he remembered the time they spent together in the cell. Aleco knew she loved him, even then. She was wary of him and his intentions, which he completely understood, but he believed in his heart that she felt something for him. Accacia risked her life to spare his. No one had ever done that for him. He felt the tears bubble under his eyes when he thought of her. He missed her so much.
He removed the Soul Catcher from his necklace and acce
ssed the stone, selecting a memory on the wall. He had already viewed all of her memories, but he continued to relive them over and over, wanting to feel her constantly. Aleco was thankful he had her Soul Catcher, her soul, because she was never truly gone from him. They were always together even when they were apart. He fell forward.
The bedframe shook as Accacia turned in her sleep, fighting against the unavoidable images of a nightmare. She kicked the sheets from under her and turned on her side as she tried to escape the dream. Her sudden movements awoke Aleco from sleep and he sat up immediately, frightened by Accacia’s cries of grief.
Aleco wrapped his arms around her and steadied her so she wouldn’t hurt herself as she rolled across the bed. “I’m here, Accacia. Come back to me.” She gasped as she came into consciousness, and she sat up quickly, breathing deeply. Her body was covered in sweat and it dripped from her skin. Aleco could feel the moisture soften his palms until they were damp. She had experienced numerous nightmares, but this one seemed to be the worst. He tightened his hold on her and ran his hands through the damp locks of hair, trying to calm her beating heart. “You’re safe, Accacia.” Tears still poured from her eyes and her breathing didn’t decrease. She said nothing as she stared straight ahead, still disturbed by the uncontrollable thoughts of her night terror. “He can’t hurt you, Accacia. Not while I’m alive.”
The physiological response of her body didn’t change or lessen. She still heaved with breaths and new beads of sweat still poured from her body. Aleco assumed she was still scared. He pressed his chest against her back and grabbed both of her hands, crossing them over her chest. “Breathe with me,” he said quietly. Accacia said nothing for several minutes as she tried to match her breathing to his, feeling the rise and fall of his large chest. Eventually her respirations returned to normal, but the fear didn’t disappear from her eyes. She left Aleco’s arms then walked down the stairs and entered the parlor, leaving Aleco in the bedroom alone. He felt frightened. She had never run from him before.