by Jamie Davis
“There’s also all the Red Legs to contend with,” Cricket said. “Getting in won’t be as big a problem as getting out, once the alarm is raised.”
“So who do we take with us?” Danny asked.
“My mom and the twins, plus any of our crew who might’ve been caught in the sweep before getting underground. I figure we can bring about ten to twenty people with us. So if any of you have close family or friends you want on the list, add them now.”
“I’ll start the list,” Cricket volunteered. “I can contact bosses in New Amsterdam, Philly, and Atlanta to see who they might have that they lost in the round ups.”
“And I’ll reach out to Artos,” Winnie sighed. “See if he’ll accept my offer.”
“He’s still not happy with you taking over the Baltimore operation like you did,” Cait said.
“Artos knows what’s important.”
“How can you be so sure?” Danny asked.
“Because we don’t have any other good options. Artos has the knowledge and expertise to help us.”
Cait shook her head. “He doesn’t do anything for free.”
“Me neither. I need to impress upon him the need to join us again, to fight Kane. No one knows the Director better than Artos. They have some sort of connection that goes way back. It’s the only reason that Artos wasn’t snatched by Red Legs long ago. There’s some sort of arrangement between them, though I don’t understand it.”
“Doesn’t that scare you?” Danny asked. “If he’s connected to Kane after all that’s happened, won’t he just as likely turn us all in?”
“I said he’s connected. That doesn’t mean he’s on his side. He’s underground, too. And he likes the finer things far too much to stay there forever. I’ve got this.”
“Better you than me,” Cait said.
———
“I’m sorry, my dear, but why would I stick my neck out for you?” Artos chuckled. “I was willing to do that once upon a time, before you decided you were better off doing things on your own.”
Winnie opened her mouth, but Artos held out his hand.
“I’m sure you have good reasons for coming here, Winnie. The recent events are indeed alarming. I’m glad you and your friends were able to avoid the sweeps.” He gestured at his surroundings. “As you can see, I, too, had to flee.”
Winnie looked around. Artos’s place of last resort was an underground bunker in the badlands, just outside Baltimore’s habitable areas. That said, it was fully furnished and she’d seen at least ten rooms while being escorted into the former Sable boss’s library.
“I can see how you’re roughing it, Artos. You should see the camp. Barbed wire and a brand-new Harvester. Kane is planning to suck the life right out every captive chanter over the next forty-five days. And he will, unless we don’t do something about it.”
“What would you have me do, my dear? You’re the boss now.”
“I don’t have your expertise in magic or technology. I don’t have your connections in the middling government. And I need those things if we’re going to find my mother and rescue key members of the community. There’s also the little problem of disabling the tower and any of Kane’s machinery.”
Artos sighed. “He’s really created another version of that infernal machine?”
Winnie nodded. “We have a recording, if you’d like to hear it. Two scientists discussing it like they were planning on milking cows.”
Artos paused and looked over his bookshelf, stroking his close-cropped beard. Winnie waited, struggling to reign in her patience while her former mentor made up his mind.
Finally, he turned and looked her way with a wry smile. “You realize the battle won’t be done if you wreck his new machine. He’ll just keep on repeating the atrocity until he’s successful.”
“I do.”
Artos turned and looked at his books again. The old man was silent.
Winnie waited, saying nothing, hoping his answer wouldn’t take forever.
CHAPTER 22
Artos was awash with emotions, still feeling the sting of betrayal from when Winnie had taken his organization and then put him out to pasture in what she had generously called a “retirement.”
He’d been fighting Kane and his minions for so long, Artos had forgotten what it was like to truly relax and enjoy his free time. That adjustment had been hard to swallow, but now he was acclimated to how things were in the new world order.
He wasn’t completely out of the loop. He still had loyal underlings reporting back to him about how things were going with Miss Durham’s operation. He’d been surprised by how quickly she jumped in and started running things. Then he remembered how she’d been operating her mother’s business since her early adolescence. Winnie was a remarkable woman, which encouraged a different set of emotions alongside his residual anger. Artos felt pride in her achievements since she’d claimed Sable operations in Baltimore and drawn other bosses into her organization.
This little stripling of a girl had come from the humblest origins to become the one he’d been waiting for all those years, ever since his arrival in this time and place. He’d always imagined that he’d find and guide the future monarch, the wise counselor who stood to one side and showed the bull-headed youth the way to the truth. Instead, she’d resisted his efforts to guide her, forcing Artos to resort to more adversarial techniques. In the end, Winnie had ended up where she needed to be, but it had also led to his exile in this deplorable bunker, away from the life that he cherished.
Perhaps that was the price of his arrogance. He didn’t know. He only knew that Winnie was back, requesting his advice and expertise again. He wanted to leap for joy, rush back in to her good graces, but Artos knew that would be wrong. So, he made her twist in the wind like autumn’s last leaf awaiting the fall. Anger allowed him that much dignity. Besides, there was something important that he needed Winnie to do. And Artos had been wondering how that might happen when this little opportunity had dropped in his lap.
He turned to face Winnie, sincerity masking his inner glee. “My dear, I am touched by your desire to let bygones be bygones. It always pained me how we drifted apart. But I’m sure you understand that I must keep my pride.”
Wary, Winnie nodded.
Artos paused. He had to steer her carefully toward what must be done. In the end, it wasn’t the camps but Kane that had to be stopped. “We’ve always had our differences, but that’s never stopped us from working together when the situation dictated we do so. The people in those camps will die if we don’t do something. You’re missing the bigger target, Winnie. Kane will have all the power if we don’t do something.”
“But — ”
“I agree we have to save the chanters in the camps in the short term. But there is also the longer-term solution to consider. If Kane isn’t stopped, we’ll be forging some sort of rescue plan again a year from now.”
“How do you propose we do that?”
“We have to expose him for who he is. If we can show definitive proof that he’s a chanter himself, it will undermine all his power. The Assembly will have to rethink all their actions regarding magic and its uses.”
“I suppose you know where that hidden proof is located?”
Artos nodded and said, “I do,” but didn’t elaborate.
Winnie quickly grew impatient. “What are you hiding, Artos? Out with it — where is your proof?”
“In Kane’s private archives, in the Department of Magical Containment Headquarters building at the capital.”
“What?” Winnie couldn’t believe it. “You’re insane if you think we can waltz into the Red Legs’ headquarters and steal that information. That’s a suicide mission.”
“I don’t think so. You’ve assembled a unique team, Winnie. Between your resources and my information, we can do this. But I can’t do it on my own, and you need my help to free our chanter brethren from the camps. This is what they call a fair trade.”
Winnie was silent, stu
dying his face. She paced the length of his bookshelf while Artos watched. He had all the time in the world, while she had so little. The chanters would be dead in the camps without her.
Artos resisted the urge to smile. He had her where he wanted her. She had no choice and he knew it.
“My crew isn’t going to like this,” Winnie muttered. She stopped pacing and spun to face him. “I can’t tell them about this second job until the first one is finished. I need them focused.”
“I understand, but you agree we must do both, yes?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “All I ever wanted was to sell my charms and improve people’s lives, Artos. Now everything always seems to rest with me, and it makes me want to throw up.”
“Please don’t vomit on my rugs, dear.”
“This is hard, Artos. And you’re one of the few people who understand the burden.”
“If it helps, please know that I have complete faith in you. You’re strong enough to shoulder this responsibility. If I didn’t think so, I would never have stepped aside so — uh — gracefully, shall we say?”
“If that’s the case, I don’t understand. You could have stopped me, but didn’t. Why?”
“Because, Winnie, you are destiny realized. Once upon a time, I might have been the hero, the avatar for magic. But that is no longer true. I was merely holding a place in this time and place until the one who would come after me: you.”
Winnie cocked her head to one side.
Artos smiled. “One day, my dear, I’ll tell you a long and drawn out tale of my life’s journey to where we are today. For now, understand this much: I am your servant and guide forward, if you’ll have me. Much must be done to save both the chanters and the world. Kane is one possible future. You are the other.”
“I don’t want to be the future, Artos. I just want my family and friends to be able to live together with everyone else in peace.”
“History doesn’t care about your wishes, my dear. That is the cruel fact that we all must face. When you are called to step forward and become an architect of history, you have no choice but to keep your foot on the path.”
Winnie was back to pacing, this time with a slower, measured pace, seemingly lost in thought. Then, “You said Kane is the other possible future. Is that why he opposes me, why he’s targeted me time and again?”
“It is,” Artos answered. “He sees you as the only true threat to his plans. It is why you are so important to what happens next. Are you ready to start planning the chanters’ rescue?”
“I am, though I wish we had some insight into Kane’s next move. It would help us find a way to stop him once and for all.”
“That is why we must undertake the second mission, my dear,” Artos sat down at his desk and began listing things Winnie would need to complete both missions. “I often wonder what goes through the mind of Nils Kane. I thought I knew, once. But that was long ago.”
Winnie came over to the desk and sat opposite Artos. “Let’s get started, then.”
CHAPTER 23
The amber liquid trembled as Nils tapped his crystal tumbler, lost in thought, pondering his plans. The country’s six camps had taken four days to fill. There were still a few stragglers to gather from the deserted Enclaves, but the roundup had proceeded with few snags.
He had expected more resistance, but they had gone peacefully, for the most part. Director Margolis’s idea to have the army supplement the Red Leg presence in each city had been a decisive tipping point. People were cowed by the show of military force and had boarded the bus like the sheep they were. Now they were in the camps, and the second part of his plan could begin.
Scientists and technicians could now activate the camp towers. That had been the genius breakthrough since the original Harvester’s destruction. Researchers had discovered that they could siphon magic through the chanters using a slower process that would weaken them over time, until they were bedridden and unable to resist. Then, he could crank the power and finish mining all of their magic.
Kane could also find others like Winnie Durham. Ever since he’d seen the video of her taming the dust and fire that day in the Baltimore Enclave, he’d been sure that she held the key to stopping the decay. If he could find others with her powers, he could train them to arrest what was happening. Then he would finally be in a position to disband the Assembly and claim control of the government himself.
His thoughts drifted back to Durham — or perhaps he should think of her as Winnie Kane. Nils winced at the thought, and swallowed another sip of whiskey, savoring the burn in the back of his throat.
It was just like Ellie to show up from nowhere and hurl a wrench into his life. Like when she had decided his experimentation with Sable was wrong. She had never understood him, or his ambitions for a better life where he would never be beholden to middling whims and idiot lawmakers ever again.
It was those early Sable experiments that had led him to build the Harvester all those years later. She could have come with him, stood by his side. They could have walked the path together. Instead, she’d betrayed him.
He’d taken his revenge, made sure she was among the first arrests. He had plans for her in the camp, too. She wouldn’t have an easy time in her final days. Kane would have to visit the camp and arrange a meeting. He wanted Elaine to know how her admission had altered his plans. He wanted her to know that he was going to take control of their daughter and use her abilities to mold the world to his liking.
A final kiss before death.
His intercom buzzed. He tapped a button. “Yes?”
“Director Margolis is here, sir,” said his assistant from the outer office.
“Excellent. Please show her in.”
He picked up the crystal decanter and an additional glass, then crossed his office to the sitting area nearby and set the Scotch and glasses on the table between. The door opened and Jane Margolis entered his office.
“Jane, my dear, it is so good to see you.”
“And you as well, Nils.”
“Have you eaten? I can have a late dinner brought up.”
“That would be perfect. I’ve been going over recent reports from the project all afternoon and haven’t had a chance to eat.”
“Excellent.” Kane looked at his assistant.
She nodded. “I’ll have the chef send up dinner for two, sir.”
“Thank you.” Kane led Director Margolis to her seat, then sat opposite her and lifted the decanter. “Scotch?”
She smiled. “Always.”
Kane poured her a drink. “You said you’ve been looking over the reports. I’m pleased with what I’ve seen coming back from the national teams. Getting the army to assist in the sweeps was instrumental to our success. Thank you.”
“I knew that uniformed soldiers in the Enclaves would send radicals into hiding. Without preparation, they never stood a chance against the soldiers, and they knew it.”
“Early tests of the collection towers have been positive as well. I believe that we’ll be ready to proceed with the next phase once we’ve screened all those we suspect might have additional abilities.”
“Agreed,” Margolis said. “My technicians have been pleased with the effectiveness of the diagnostic medical devices we’ve adapted to screen for additional abilities.”
“How many have been discovered so far?”
“About fifty — one or two per city.” Jane took a sip. “A pair of twins from Atlanta are of particular interest. They weren’t especially strong individually, but they’ve developed a sort of shorthand for their magic. Together, they might be as strong as the Durham girl.”
“That’s great news. I hope we find more.”
“I suppose it’s too much to hope we nabbed Durham in our sweeps?”
“Unfortunately, she evaded us,” Nils admitted. “And right now, we don’t even know where she is. There is still one possibility open to us. One of her known associates is a magic tech by the name of Tristan Wellings. We have her being w
atched around the clock, and are hoping to track Durham through her.”
Director Margolis stood and walked to the carved stone chair with the sword upright in its back. She looked back at Nils as her hands stroked the golden hilt jutting up from the ancient sculpture.
“You never told me where you found such a unique piece for your collection, Nils. It is truly remarkable. Almost an ancient throne, isn’t it?”
“I had it tracked down during one of the army’s expeditions in the aftermath of Europe’s fall. My family owned it for years, so it has a great deal of sentimental value. There is an ancient legend surrounding it, but it’s nonsense.”
“Legend? I love stories.”
“Once, in the early days following the fall of Rome, it was said that a mighty king would come — a monarch who would unify those lands lost to the darkness. They would be known by their ability to draw the sword from the throne, and all would bow before them as they vanquished the forces of darkness.
“It was all nonsense, of course, a bedtime story for children. Still, it belonged to my family for a long time and I remembered my mother talking about it before her death. I tasked a group of soldiers traveling through the Old Country to sweep for clues, then recover the artifact if possible. One of the perks to my job.”
Jane stopped stroking the sword. She grasped the hilt, giving the embedded blade a tug. But the blade didn’t budge.
She laughed; so did Kane. She looked at him, wagging her finger. “Don’t tell me you’ve never tried that.”
“Oh, I have, on numerous occasions. I still remember the first time. It’s sort of a rite of passage in my family. At the age of ten, all male children were brought to the throne to take their turn pulling on the blade. All have failed, as you can see, including myself.”
“What a wonderful family story to have. Too bad you have no children of your own to share it with.”
“Indeed,” Kane replied. “Indeed.”
There was a knock at the door, then Kane’s assistant entered, pushing a cart with two domed plates and numerous smaller dishes filled with salads, dinner rolls, and two large pieces of chocolate cake.