The Bearer's Burden (Phantom Pact Book 1)
Page 13
Carlon put the file down, linked his arms behind his back, and walked to the nearby window. “We thought a man, a Bearer no less, with nothing to lose, could be a powerful ally.” Cade remained silent. “Until we realized how dangerous a man with nothing to lose really was.”
Cade’s expression smoldered like the ashen coals of a great fire. He opened his mouth to speak, but Carlon held up a hand.
“In every one of these cases, you put yourself and others at great risk. It is quite clear you do not value the lives of others, and especially not your own. Mark my words, Elegy: you will fail them. Ashlyn and Jace are crucial to the success of this mission, and it’s my job to ensure that they succeed.” He fell silent and turned to Cade.
“Raiders.”
Carlon watched him with eyes of stone.
“That’s what the Endguard told me when I reported the disappearance of my village…the murder of my family. That’s what everyone told me. Didn’t matter that nothing was looted and the bodies were missing. Raiders. Even when the next village was taken, and the one after that.”
He met Carlon’s eyes.
Cade said, “What would you have me do? Roll over and let the Wraiths take whatever they want? They are taking more and more people every month, with nary a footnote in the daily post. Someone must do the work everyone else is too afraid to do. We’ve become too paralyzed with this farce of freedom to understand the price that we’re paying. I don’t regret what I’ve done—and I wouldn’t hesitate to do it all again.”
The large man shook his head, as if expecting Cade’s reply. “That’s your justification? Everyone on this island, along with men and women spread throughout Chalice, is fighting the battle against the Wraiths as well. And they are doing it while upholding the safety of those around them.” Carlon snorted. “When you shot the man in Barnage…what did you feel?”
Cade raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yes, Malix is an old friend. What did you feel?”
“He was a liability. Even if he was truly unarmed, he could have alerted others or sold the intel.”
Carlon nodded. “A fair assumption, and likely correct. But you still haven’t answered the question.”
Cade looked down at the table. “I didn’t feel anything.”
“And that is why you cannot go.”
Cade shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“On the battlefield there is no right or wrong, only orders. You do what you are told and move on. You didn’t feel anything in Barnage because you’re still on the battlefield. You’re on your own mission, everyone who gets in your way be damned.”
“I want to defeat the Wraiths, same as you.”
Carlon pulled out the chair next to Cade and sat down, scratching his chin, the day’s stubble already threatening to become a beard. “Let me put it another way: given the choice to avenge your family or save the people of Chalice, which would you choose?”
Cade glared at him.
“I don’t expect you to answer—it’s not a fair question. But we both know the answer. Your quest for revenge clouds your judgment.” The man’s tone grew even more serious. “One misstep or deviation from our goal and the Wraiths will crush this pathetic sliver of a chance we’re clinging to. It’s simple. Your mission isn’t our mission. That’s why you cannot go.”
The man’s expression softened, and he smiled as he sat back in his chair. “Don’t worry, I’m sending Faye. She might not look it, but she’s the best there is. She will take good care of the princess. You are welcome to stay here, since we could use someone to train—”
“Sir!”
Carlon stood up. “What is it?”
“Light spotted up ahead. Krek’s boat, by the looks of it.”
Carlon peered at the small boat as it trundled toward the island’s shore. “He’s not scheduled to land tonight.”
Cade joined them at the window. “Krek? You mean the Hakken man?”
Carlon turned to him, “Krek isn’t from Hakken, he’s a native…Hells. Sound the alarm!”
“Sir?”
Emerging from the water behind the small boat, a swarm of Skex, unmistakable even at distance, began clambering onto the shores of Vanter.
“Sound the alarm now!” Carlon raced to the stairs, faster than his girth would have suggested. He grabbed the pole that ran through the center and slid down past the surrounding flights of stairs. Cade followed suit, encoding his hands with tungsten to prevent them from burning. A shower of sparks flew from the friction as the ground of the hangar rushed up to greet him. He pushed the tungsten throughout his entire body, touching down on the ground floor with a hard clank.
“Man the battle stations! I want those bugs dead yesterday!” The agents moved quickly at Carlon’s command, grabbing long, black rifles, and manned the battlements along the side walls. It appeared they had prepared the hangar for such a contingency.
Carlon grabbed the special gauntlets off the suit of armor he had demonstrated earlier and took the tarp off the experimental crank-powered gun. “Faye! Evasive maneuvers. Get us to land.” Faye nodded and ran to the adjoining room.
Jace and Ashlyn, who had been talking with Faye, ran over. “What’s happening?”
“Skex,” Cade said.
“Here? How is that possible?”
Cade shook his head. They heard a deafening thud as something pounded against the hangar door.
“Here they come!”
Faye emerged from the control room. “Course set, sir!”
Cade looked at Carlon. “Orders, sir?”
The man cursed, face pulled tight. “Damned if she won’t need your help to get out of here. Hells take you, Elegy, if you screw this up.” He turned to Faye. “Use the escape route. Protect the princess at all costs.”
Faye saluted and quickly led them to a hatch at the back of the room as the hangar door blew off its hinges and crashed to the ground.
Faye began turning the locking mechanism, arms refracting with the diamond encoding. She had rings on every finger, which was rare for Bearers—he hadn’t noticed earlier. Most Bearers could only manage encodings with a few of the core materials: tungsten, diamond, and aluminum. The subtleties required to manipulate more advanced materials were lost on most Bearers without decades of training. Cade grabbed the other side of the mechanism and helped turn it until the hatch unlocked. Faye ushered them in. “Go, go, go!” Cade looked up to see dozens of Skex pouring in the room, overwhelming the agents unlucky enough to be on the front line. He saw Carlon, teeth gritted, spraying gunfire into the swarm, his massive arm turning the crank as fast as it could go. “Come on, you ugly bastards. Is that all you can do?” Faye shoved Cade through the hatch before pulling herself in and sealing it from within.
The tunnel was dark and damp, and the air was stale. The floor was slick with a thin layer of wet moss that had somehow managed to spread within the tight space. Cade bumped against the wall, and a cool blue glow began to emanate from a device inset into the tunnel. Faye looked at Cade, eyes narrowed. She detached the device from the wall and held it up like a lantern. “This way.” She led them down an access tunnel. Cade could see they were not man-made; these tunnels were part of Vanter itself.
“Here.” She stopped and reached up to open the hatch. Fresh air rushed in. She pulled herself up in a deft motion and helped Ashlyn and Jace out of the tunnel. Gone was the cheerful hostess they had first met. There was more to her than he had thought upon their first meeting.
They emerged from behind the hangar on the island. They were out in the open, but the darkness provided some concealment as they pressed themselves against the outside wall. Faye peered around the corner and then held up a hand, signaling for them to stop. She pointed to a building on the other end of the main strip and whispered, “Stables,” then waved them on. Time to move.
They ran across the exposed street as fast as they could, Faye taking point with Cade bringing up the rear. They had almost made it to the building when the Skex
spotted them.
Skex were intimidating beasts. Their exoskeleton-covered bodies were inlaid with thin, running lines that resembled watered steel. They could move on two legs with their powerful hindquarters, but they tended to use the hooked claws on their forearms to move at even greater speed. Underneath the overhang of their claws, they possessed long triple-jointed fingers that resembled the segments of a battle gauntlet. Their heads were shielded, not by exoskeleton, but an angular metal helmet with no visor or openings. Cade had no idea how the creatures could navigate.
“Hells,” Faye cursed, pulling out her pistols as they skittered toward her. She unloaded an entire cylinder, bringing down the first one. Pistols didn’t pack quite the same punch as the rifles.
Cade ducked behind cover and saw Jace and Ashlyn, eyes wide and fearful, pressed against the wall. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. He pulled a shell from its sheath. Eighth one down. Garren Wall. Died fighting the Skex in the Wraith War during the battle of Kayvant, even after his entire unit deserted. He slipped it into the cylinder and traded places with Faye, who started to reload. The cylinder spun up, and the sparks flew.
He pulled the trigger, and the Skex vanished; only smoke remained. Faye ducked out and fired a round into the next one. It collapsed, legs shuddering and drawing in close. Skex had very few weak spots. Faye was either incredibly skilled or an incredibly lucky shot.
Ashlyn screamed. He turned around the corner expecting to see a Skex, but there were none to be found. She instead pointed to something behind him.
The shore. He didn’t even know the island was moving, but he could see the coast of the lake hurtling toward them fast. Too fast. He grabbed Ashlyn and Jace, encoded diamond, and brought them in close. He performed a secondary encoding, this time with the ground underneath his feet, securing him to the metal floor of the island. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a Skex that had broken free and was racing toward them. It raised its heavy claw high and swung down.
Cade felt his body lurch as Vanter smashed full speed into the shore of the lake. The Skex was gone, likely thrown across the island. His mind raced. Faye.
He released his encodings and put down the stunned Jace and Ashlyn. He turned the corner. Faye was gone. He cursed. She must have been thrown, too. “Let’s go!” he yelled.
The island, despite the impact, had held its shape. The lakeside was decimated, along with the corpses of Skex that had been ashore during the collision. Cade led them into the small stable he had seen on the island and was shocked not to find horses.
“Kalafir!” Ashlyn exclaimed, breaking from her stupor.
Kalafir were rare beasts. They looked like horses, only larger. Most kalafir breeds were a full head higher than the biggest horses, and their coats were almost always a sleek jet black. Aside from their great size, their most distinguishing feature was their elevated ankle joints, that almost gave the impression they had inverted knees. They could not be bred in captivity, so the only hope of riding one was if they were discovered in the wild and tamed. They had tragically short lives, only around five years, but the beasts were the fastest and most loyal animals one could hope for. These kalafirs had been spooked by the impact, tapping each of their hooves one at a time, as if testing to see if the ground they stood upon was still real. They seemed to settle somewhat upon seeing Cade enter the stable.
“No time to admire.” They had already been saddled in preparation for their original mission. Cade hoisted Jace upon the first kalafir and noticed Ashlyn had already mounted the next one. Jace looked at her, annoyed. She shrugged, smiling.
They burst out of the stables at full gallop, turning hard toward the shore, and the great animals bounded over the rubble left behind from the impact.
As they raced away on the open plain, Cade noticed lights flickering to the east. That must be the Skex base camp. He yelled over galloping hooves to Ashlyn, who he could tell was the more experienced rider. “Keep heading due south. I will catch up.”
Cade broke away and headed toward the light. In minutes, he was dismayed to find what he had feared. He bore down on the great beast, and it galloped even faster toward the camp. As he neared its edge, Cade encoded diamond for strength, leapt off the creature and sailed through the air. He landed next to a sinister-looking machine with a long barrel. It was still warming up. I’m not too late. The strategists called them ballistae, but that was only because they had no other name to use. Hauled by a pack of Skex, the ballistae were used as artillery against fortified structures.
A group of Skex, seeing Cade, scrambled toward him. A loud, grating tone sounded from the machine, and it began to pulse. It was now or never. He looked around but could find no object to jam the machine. With only seconds remaining, he did the first thing he could think of. Cade wrapped himself around the open barrel of the weapon, torso covering the opening. He encoded to the hard steel of the barrel, effectively locking himself in place and blocking the barrel’s exit.
The weapon fired. With nowhere to go, its payload hit Cade’s hardened torso, and unable to leave the barrel, exploded. The barrel was torn open by the blast, throwing metal shrapnel across the camp and throughout the army of Skex.
Wake up.
He sat up in the darkness and grabbed his stomach, blackened but whole, shirt nothing more than tatters. He turned over and vomited. Wiping his mouth, he looked around. Where…?
He heard a snort and felt a wet nose rubbed against his face. He looked up to see his kalafir, waiting for its new master. Amazing creature. Getting his bearings, he hauled himself up onto its back and headed south.
He rode through the clearing and noticed two slender shapes darting quickly like lost shadows through the darkness ahead. Hells, he thought, I should never have left them alone. A scream—Ashlyn’s—sounded in the distance. Cade cursed and dug his heels into his kalafir. Carlon’s voice echoed within his head: Your mission isn’t our mission. The man was right—he took too many chances, put too many people at risk. He drove the beast hard, fur already lathered with sweat, as they raced to catch the dark figures.
Scouts. Not as dangerous as the larger Skex but deadly enough. Built for speed, they were as fast as the kalafir. They must have been watching for anyone who tried to escape the island.
Far ahead, he could make out the silhouettes of Jace and Ashlyn. They must have cut east, trying to dodge the scouts. He made sure his feet were hooked in the saddle as he pulled out his shotcaster. At this speed, a caster pistol would have trouble hitting the darting creatures. He broke it open and loaded a shell. He grabbed the reins with one hand and pulled even with the scout, squinting through the darkness. The large barrel’s intricate etchings began to glow a dark red, ready for Cade.
A powerful blast from the direction of the island came from behind him, lighting up the dark night. Forgive me, Terlok Marr, no time for ceremony.
He fired, evaporating the scout. He turned his head behind him to see the island engulfed in flames, his earlier effort wasted.
He faced on. Where did the other one go? Cade let go of the reins and reached for another shell when his kalafir lost its footing and he was thrown from the beast.
The scout was upon him before he even stopped tumbling across the rocky plain. It raised a pointed arm, sharp as a spearhead, and struck at Cade. Instinctively, he raised his arm and grunted in pain as it pierced his forearm. He encoded with tungsten, trapping the creature within his arm. He encoded his other arm with lead and pounded upon the hard carapace again and again until it cracked and shattered. He was still punching the wet pulp of meat and broken shell even after it had shuddered and fell still.
Ashlyn’s voice. “Cade? Jace, he’s bleeding. Grab the pack.”
He lowered his fist, heart thundering in his chest.
Your mission isn’t our mission.
Perhaps it could be.
“Cade? Are you okay?”
He nodded untruthfully.
17
Ceywind
Ce
ywind’s architecture is unique, even by the standards of the Ancients. It is believed that Ceywind served as a launching point for deep-sea mining, while the city itself served as a refinery for the collected minerals.
—From Chalician Archaeologist’s Quarterly, Vol. 4
Ashlyn was quiet for most of the journey from Vanter. The sun had risen, and Jace had laid out a route that would take them to Ceywind, where another agent had arranged passage for them to Toltaire.
Cade brought his kalafir beside Ashlyn’s. “You okay?”
Ashlyn let out a small sigh and faked a smile. “Do you think…do you think they’re okay?”
Cade shrugged. “Well, you saw the weapons they had in that hangar. If anyone stood a chance, I’d say it was them.”
“Don’t you think we should have stayed and helped? What about Faye?”
They had been so focused on their exit, Cade had forgotten about Faye. Carlon’s words continued to cut him. “I don’t know. The general said she’s their most capable agent, so I’m sure she’s fine. Carlon ordered me to take you to the city.”
Ashlyn sighed again, nodding. “The Skex saw us retreat. Do you think they will follow us here?”
Cade shook his head. “I hope not. If they attack a major city, the king will have no choice but to end the Accord. But we must assume they are following us. We will need to move quickly.”
Jace, a few paces ahead, came to a stop as he crested the grassy hill. “I think this is it,” he said. Cade and Ashlyn rode to the top of the hill, and the port city of Ceywind spread out before them. They had ridden the kalafirs all night. The poor beasts, bodies lathered from the effort, laid down where they had halted. “It’s best for us to leave them here; they would draw too much attention in the city,” said Jace.
Ashlyn put her hand on hers and stroked the short fur of its head. “Thank you.” She turned to Cade. “Do you think they will be all right?”
“The kalafirs? It’ll take more than this to keep them down. They are hardy animals. And to be perfectly honest, you can’t truly domesticate them. Their freedom is the best gift we can give them.”