The Bearer's Burden (Phantom Pact Book 1)

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The Bearer's Burden (Phantom Pact Book 1) Page 8

by Chad Queen


  “My, my, what a beautiful woman. Not like those beasts we are used to in Wythlain. What do you men think?” The men all shouted and laughed, hoisting their weapons high in the air. “Leave her, and you may pass.”

  Cade remained silent.

  “I’m not going to ask again, boy. I suggest you take my offer.”

  Cade closed his eyes and took a deep breath, visualizing the phantom within him. The phantom felt different than it had earlier. Something in it, something powerful, began to stir. There were too many, he thought. But if he was careful, there was a chance. Win or lose, there was only one choice. He opened his eyes to see the man had taken aim at Cade’s head with an old rifle.

  “The hard way it is,” was all the man said as he pulled the trigger. The bullet bounced off of Cade’s encoded skull. He leapt forward, encoded diamond, and wrenched the rifle from the man’s hands. He flipped the barrel and fired. One down.

  The action had bought him precious seconds as the shocked men began to understand that they were up against a Bearer. And one trained in Coda martial arts, no less. Cade dashed over to a group of men fumbling for their weapons and punched the first one with an encoded fist, knocking him unconscious. He twisted the man’s arm behind his back and used him as a shield as the other men tried to run him through with their spears. He sent the human shield into the group, knocking them down. Behind him, he heard the woman scream. Cade turned to see the other men, rifles loaded, taking aim at him.

  Every phantom has a purpose. For the husband, the protection of his wife was his. The sensation that had stirred within him became greater as the sound of gunshots echoed in the pass that evening. Cade looked to see the bullets from those guns had frozen mere inches from his body. When the purpose of a phantom is threatened, the Bearer reaches affinity with the phantom. The Bearer and phantom become one, their Songs harmonizing in time. Time stands still. Affinity lasted only seconds, but the Bearer could move freely, and for a master of Coda, seconds were all that were needed. Every movement had meaning, a distinct purpose, like a choreographed dance. Each second was a gift from this man’s spirit. He felt the emotions of the phantom flow through him. It was purity, it was truth, it was love.

  As the affinity wore off, twenty men lay defeated before him. Cade knew then what his Promise would be.

  He returned home after fulfilling the Pact and made his Promise:

  I will be a bridge for those who cannot cross

  I will be hope for those who have none

  I will be the shield for those who have fallen

  And I will sing their Song so they will not be forgotten

  I am Elegy.

  He committed it to memory and threw the paper into the fire, sealing the Promise. As he watched the paper burn, he remembered feeling better than he ever had before. As the ashes fell away, so did the imagery around him, and he found himself before the doppelgänger once more.

  “I remember.”

  The man remained silent.

  He looked up. “What’s happening to me?”

  “Nocturne pushes the phantoms you bear deeper into the Firmere, quieting them. If you take too much, you risk pushing your own phantom into the Firmere as well.”

  “So you exist in the Firmere and were able to find me? Who are you?”

  “That’s a story for another time.”

  Cade shook his head. He was getting nowhere. “What are the Wraiths doing with the taken?”

  The image grew dimmer. “Find Eos, if she still exists, and we may still have hope. For now, you must wake.”

  Eos—that name again. He had heard it during his last hallucination. Cade pleaded to the fading light before him. “But how?”

  “Choose.”

  The points of light faded, and the man was gone. Thousands of new tiny lights flew in, and Cade was back in his home, standing next to the table.

  His wife looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. “Honey, are you going to join us? It’s getting cold. You know I hate it when you don’t eat it while it’s hot!”

  Cade looked at her, fighting back tears.

  She looked at him, concerned. “What’s the matter?”

  “There are people…that need me.”

  “Then you should go help them.”

  “I want to stay here,” said Cade, shaking his head.

  She smiled. “Do you know why I married you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there are many reasons. But one of the biggest is that you have always put others ahead of yourself. It’s downright infuriating sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She walked over to him and took his hand into hers. “I will be here for you when the time comes.”

  Cade found himself shaking, his hand gripping hers tight, unable to let go.

  Choose.

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

  I am the bridge. I am hope. I am the shield. I am the singer of Songs.

  The tiny lights shattered and faded into darkness. Cade also began to dematerialize, and he watched as particles of himself broke free until he was gone.

  His eyes opened, and he found himself looking up at the ceiling of his brother’s room. The buckle that bound his wrists had snapped, and his throat was dry. How long have I been out?

  A knock sounded at the door. “Grandmaster. Karessa has awakened,” he heard Jalek, the temple’s caretaker, say from beyond the door.

  Cade sat up and rubbed the bruises on his wrists. He nodded to himself.

  Time to get some answers.

  9

  Old Soldiers

  Casters and their origin are still shrouded in mystery. They are one of the few artifacts left behind by the Ancients that we can utilize. Their design is simplistic, yet the creation of casters eludes weapons craftsmen. Through the art of castforging, detailed in the Book of the Traveler, the creation of bullets imprinted with those who have passed is possible, but we are limited by the number of casters in existence.

  —From Chalician Archaeologist’s Quarterly, Vol. 11

  Cade arrived to see Karessa sitting up in the bed, a gray wool blanket pulled around her. They had taken her to a room within the interior of the temple. Jalek wanted to make sure they could protect her if the Acolytes decided to come for her. Her gray eyes, which had burned brightly only days before, appeared sunken and scared. He glanced at the table next to the bed and saw an empty vial of Nocturne. They must have used it to keep her mind under control until she woke. With her permission, they could help her rite of Pact closure. It was a frowned-upon but sometimes necessary ritual.

  Jalek and Ashlyn were in the room with her. When Cade entered, she looked at him. “I believe I have you to, uh, thank for saving me.” Cade blushed, remembering his last-ditch effort to get her mind to resurface amongst the phantoms of the soldiers she bore.

  “Yes. You’re…welcome.”

  Jalek broke in, “You had recently come here, asking us to join in helping the Foundation. From what you told us, the Foundation is a rebel force working against the Wraiths.”

  She nodded. “Yes, that is true. But my memory is fragmented somehow. I think I was an agent of some sort. I don’t quite remember.”

  Cade frowned. “What do you remember?”

  “I remember running into an old friend, a soldier from the war that I had met before. They weren’t wearing the robes of an Acolyte, so I didn’t think much of it at the time. We went to get a drink at a tavern. I only have brief glimpses of memories after that.” She shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her.

  Ashlyn took a step forward. “It’s okay, you don’t—”

  “No. It’s fine. I remember being in a room, like a laboratory of some sort. I was lying on a metal table. I couldn’t move, but I wasn’t restrained. It was like I was just an observer in my own body. I would lose consciousness before I could remember any more.” She shook her head. “Conditioning, they called it later, after I was out. Though I don’t remember much, I just knew th
at I never wanted to go through it again. If you ask too many questions, you have to be reconditioned.”

  Cade spoke again. “Why are the Acolytes attacking Bearers and the Coda Order?”

  Karessa looked at him again. “They want to eliminate any possibility of resistance. They see Bearers as a substantial threat to the success of the Ascension Drive.”

  Cade raised an eyebrow. “The Ascension Drive? What is that?”

  Karessa shook her head. “I don’t know. I only know that is why the Acolytes exist. To ensure the success of the Ascension Drive.” She grabbed her head, and he could see her grinding her teeth, much like Rast had done back in Wilks. “Even now, they try to speak inside my mind. But the Nocturne helps. The voice is hardly a whisper now.”

  “Do you remember where the Foundation is?”

  “No,” she said, her face full of regret. “They took things from my memory, chunks of memories, leaving only pieces here and there. All I remember is that before I was abducted, I was heading to Rynth to meet a man, an archaeologist.”

  Cade cocked his head to the side. “Do you remember his name?”

  “It started with a J…Jace…something. I’m sorry, I can’t remember the rest.”

  “Jace Exile?” Cade said, trying to hide his astonishment.

  Her face lit up. “Yes! That’s it. I’m sure of it.”

  Cade rubbed his chin. How did Jace figure into all of this?

  Jalek rested his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you. That is enough. Please rest now. Tomorrow we will perform the rite so that you may find some peace.”

  Karessa, grateful, lay back down on the bed as they left the room and closed the door.

  Cade turned to Jalek. “We have to get to Rynth right away.”

  Jalek nodded. He motioned to a student, who ran up to him with a small rucksack. From it he pulled out a worn brown leather bandoleer, each small pocket containing a different caster shell with unique, intricate markings etched into them. Cade knew each one by heart. Even though it had been over a year, every name and every story those shells carried was still ingrained within him, chiseled into the bedrock of his mind.

  Cade pulled out one of his casters—the one he called Justice—and broke open the barrel to load it. Casters weren’t ordinary guns; they were artifacts of the Ancients, discovered long ago by archaeologists on Chalice. From a distance, they looked very much like a typical pistol. Up close, however, you could see finely etched patterns of lines decorating the body of the weapon. Casters also possessed a vertically inset cylinder which would spin up before firing. Aside from these unique details, they were seemingly simple constructions, consisting of a wide barrel, grip, and trigger. But much to the consternation of the land’s finest blacksmiths, no man-made caster had ever demonstrated the abilities of the Ancient-made ones. As such, each was worth a fortune.

  Caster shells were equally a mystery. While they could be forged, they could only be usable if imprinted with the Song of one who has chosen to pass on to the Ascent. Once imprinted, the shells could do impossible things beyond explanation. The shells could alter their path after firing to track their intended target and they could even make their target completely vanish.

  Followers of Coda had discovered passages in the Traveler’s writings that hinted at the use of casters in the war against the Betrayers. The passages spoke of how the Ancients had used weapons as the sole means to fight back against the nigh-invincible Betrayers. The discovery, along with learning how to forge the shells needed to use them, was the breakthrough that gave the people of Chalice a fighting chance during the Wraith War.

  Ashlyn watched as he loaded the weapon. “Is that…the caster that killed the Wraith?”

  Cade nodded.

  Jalek handed him one more shell. The shell had been newly cast and gleamed brightly. Cade took the shell into his hands and closed his eyes. He opened them a moment later and tucked the shell into his belt.

  Cade holstered his caster and finished fastening the bandoleer across his chest. “Time to go.”

  10

  Encroaching Danger

  Rynth still holds too many secrets to count. As a result, many legends exist and continue to circulate. Some speak of an infinite source of power, hidden deep within the Nexus. It is believed the Ancients are buried there, frozen in time, and will one day awaken to lead us.

  —From The Labyrinth of Rynth

  Cade was jolted awake aboard the Malix Express as it clambered topside from the underground railways. The conductor, Malix, was a long-time friend of Seek’s, and by association, Cade. Use of the underground railways was forbidden by law, but much like the underground battle arena, the authorities turned a blind eye to it. For a small fee, of course. It was the best way to get out of Solak and not be seen.

  He hadn’t slept much over the past week, but somehow the vibrations of the railbus had managed to coax him to sleep. Ashlyn sat in the seat across from him, looking out the small window as the Pathway route to Rynth spread out before them.

  Malix didn’t say much, and his face, beset with the deep lines of age, seemed locked into a perpetual frown. Cade wasn’t sure how Seek came to know Malix, but Seek assured Cade that he could be trusted. He remembered Seek describing him as “One of the friendliest guys you’ll ever meet who hates everyone.” In Seek’s experience, grumpiness was roughly proportional to trustworthiness. Cade hoped he was right.

  Ashlyn, seeing him sit up, looked at him and smiled. “Good morning. I’m glad you finally got some rest.” Cade averted his eyes from hers, gazed out the window, and nodded. He called to Malix, “Where are we now?”

  The man who was helming the front of the railbus did not appear to hear him. Or he was ignoring him. Cade left it.

  Ashlyn cast a glance toward Malix and grinned at Cade. “I’ve never been to Rynth. At least not since I was very young. Father believed it safest for me to remain in Toltaire, so I’ve never really seen the City of the Ancients.”

  Rynth, the massive city built by the Ancients, was an archaeological paradise. The inhabitants continued to discover new artifacts and hidden passages there, despite the city being discovered over a hundred years ago. But they weren’t going there for that. Jace was there, and he might have the answer they needed. If they could find him, it might give them enough of a clue to piece together the mystery of the taken.

  As they rolled over the hillside, a small village appeared on the horizon. Malix yelled, in a loud and grating voice, “Next stop, Barnage! Gotta top up!”

  As they approached the village, it became apparent something was not right. The familiar pit in Cade’s stomach began to grow.

  Ashlyn noticed it, too. “Where are all the people?”

  The railbus rumbled to a halt and the doors opened. As they stepped out, they were greeted by nothing but eerie silence.

  Malix’s grin had given way to a solemn expression. He took off his hat, holding it close to his chest. “Another town joins the taken. May they find their way back home.”

  Cade held gritted teeth behind his scowl. “Killed. Not taken.”

  Malix’s brow furrowed as he cocked his head toward Cade, but the old man remained silent.

  There were those who still clung to the possibility that their family and friends were still out there, but Bearers knew better. Bearers could sense the presence of phantoms. All they had to do was listen for the gentle notes of music being played across the Firmere, as if not to disturb those who still lived. It was faint, but the Song was there, playing for those who chose to hear it.

  Cade closed his eyes and quieted his thoughts. Notes began to tumble out all around him, quiet yet constant and flowing from all directions. Many Songs, too many, now held concert over Barnage.

  There was no way for the government to explain this. Barnage wasn’t some small mining town in the Ends. It was a Pathway town in the interior of Chalice. There would be no way for an invading army to get this far inland without alerting the military. The Wraiths were becoming
bolder. But to what end?

  Malix grumbled something and headed to the station to charge the batteries on the railbus. It wasn’t as advanced as most of the trains in Chalice, which ran without batteries now that the Thread supplied them with power. Cade was surprised a railbus as old as Malix’s was still in service. Archaeologists in the area loved dissecting older relics of Ancient technology, hoping for the stepping stone that would allow them to start creating more advanced technologies. Cade wished they’d hurry up and find a breakthrough. He despised being dependent on the Wraiths.

  A loud, cracking noise sounded in the distance. Cade looked up and saw the faint telltale plume of dark gray smoke waft into the air. “Caster fire.”

  Ashlyn looked incredulous. “What? There’s somebody still here?”

  “Ashlyn, I’m going to need you and Malix to stay in the railbus. Malix, how much time do you need?”

  Malix cursed under his breath. “Five minutes, tops.”

  Cade exited the silver metal railbus and ran into a nearby alley off the main road toward the smoke. Barnage wasn’t as large as Solak, and there were only man-made buildings here. It served as a critical waystation between Solak and Rynth, so it had a variety of trading posts and a large central marketplace. The silence unnerved him. Even the birds and insects were quiet, as if out of respect for the dead. As with the other towns that had been taken, there was little sign of struggle. However they did it, they did it with brutal efficiency.

  As he snaked down the back alleyways of the buildings, he heard voices. He made his way toward the voices, careful to remain hidden until he could hear them clearly.

  A deep voice sounded around the corner. “This is where I saw the smoke. Look at this.”

  Cade heard a yelp, followed by a soft clink. “What happened?” a new voice said.

 

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