by West, Shay
You don’t need the book. You won’t turn out like Anali.
The voice comforted him. He had learned so much under the tutelage of Fa’ Vel that he could now control the power rather than letting it control him.
Fa’ Vel’s men turned their horses loose with hardly a backward glance. Jon had a more difficult time. With all the extra baggage, the animals would be easy prey. He started unbuckling the saddle but one of Fa’ Vel’s men slapped his horse on the rump, sending the animal squealing in fright.
“If Fa’ Vel wanted us to take the saddles off he would have said so,” the man said, spitting a dark wad of chew near Jon’s left foot.
As they drew closer to the city and the Mekans, the noise from the machines grew almost unbearable. Fa’ Vel instructed the men to place folded bits of cloth in their ears. The closer they got to the city, the more people they began to see, some in horse-drawn wagons, most with only what they could carry on their backs. The terrified people stared at the men going in the direction of the machines as though they were insane.
It’s not far from the truth.
Fa’ Vel stopped and spoke with a man at length, but with the cloth in his ears, Jon couldn’t hear what they said. Fa’ Vel veered off to the left, heading for the main road. Jon kept his eye on the machine. If it came their direction, they wouldn’t have much time to get out of its path, especially now that they were on foot. The machines hadn’t made it to the city yet but Jon knew it was only a matter of time. The smallest of the Mekans could crush the walls easily.
The gates of Faerow were open and the usual guard was absent. There were only a few stragglers moving out of the city. Jon assumed most everyone had left when the machines had first appeared. The city was cloaked in an eerie silence that was deeper than just having his ears plugged. The last time he had come here, the city had been full of townsfolk and palace guards, dogs, cats, chickens. The noise had been overwhelming.
Because of the cloth in his ears, the only thing Jon could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his brain. Sudden movement off to his right made his heart beat faster. Two men dashed down an alley, arms loaded. The building they exited stood with the door smashed to pieces.
Fa’ Vel motioned several of his men toward several buildings. Jon watched in disbelief as the men returned with their arms full of various items. Fa’ Vel passed the items around to the other men. Their mouths were open in laughter. Jon refused to accept the expensive clothing Fa’ Vel tried to hand to him.
--Just take it, boy--
Jon’s eyed bulged at the voice in his head. Fa’ Vel smirked, the scar drawing his mouth into a sneer.
--It’s not your imagination--
“How are you doing that?” Jon shouted.
--It’s quite easy. Just takes a little practice--
Jon shook his head. –That’s it? Just a little practice?--
Fa’ Vel nodded, then stopped short and stared at Jon. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. –How is it you can speak to me with your mind? I never taught you to do that--
Jon answered with a smirk of his own. –There’s a lot about me you don’t know--
Fa’ Vel stared at Jon, his black eyes expressionless. –Obviously--
--So what’s your plan? Try to speak to the Mekans this way?--
--Yes. Every other attempt at speaking to them has failed, so I thought this might work--
--I still don’t understand why you are trying to communicate with them at all. Why don’t you put your mind to use trying to find a way to destroy them?--
Fa’ Vel threw back his head and laughed. –I don’t think it’s possible, boy. But if we can get on their good side, maybe we can get through this alive--
Jon shook his head. –You really are mad--
--Indeed, my dear boy, but I’d rather be mad and alive than sane and dead--
Fa’ Vel moved off, sauntering down the street as though he didn’t have a care in the world. His men moved through the abandoned buildings, stealing anything they could get their hands on. As they approached the palace, Fa’ Vel slowed. He pointed to Jon and his men, indicating they were to stay put. The dark magician slowly entered the palace through the main gates.
Fa’ Vel returned and beckoned his men forward. He pointed inside the castle.
--The palace is deserted. No reason we shouldn’t use it as our base of operations--
--You didn’t kill anyone, did you?--
Fa’ Vel laughed so hard Jon could hear it despite the cloth stuck in his ears. The dark magician tried to control himself several times but each time he caught his breath, a new fit of laughter doubled him over. Jon tapped his foot, waiting for the man to wipe tears from his eyes.
--I haven’t laughed like that in a long while--
--I don’t see that what I asked was particularly amusing--
--Of course you don’t. Well, your tender little heart can rest assured. There isn’t a soul in the palace--
Was there any before you got in there?
Jon used the tricks he had learned from communicating with the Kromins to keep that last remark to himself.
EARTH
PAIN.
Pain, and a tickle in his nose and throat that made him cough, bringing on even more agony.
“He’s waking up.”
The voice sounded panicked. Forka wondered why his waking would cause someone so much distress.
“I was afraid of this.”
“Don’t you have any more drink to give him?”
Forka thought he knew the voices but his mind refused to focus enough to sort it all out.
“There’s no time. We’ll have to proceed without it. Hold him down.”
Wait, is he talking about me?
He felt pressure on his body. Forka screamed once before darkness took him.
***
Coming out of unconsciousness took longer this time. Forka groaned and tried to raise his arm but it refused to obey the command his brain was giving it.
Where am I?
He tried to open his eyes but the light was too bright. He cried out and wondered why his voice sounded like that of an old man. Sounds were muffled and seemed to come from far away. He couldn’t make sense of what he was hearing.
Forka could feel a slight vibration.
Am I in the encampment?
Rather than trying to move his whole arm, he tried to move only his fingers. His heart raced when they brushed against a rough surface. It felt gritty. The slight movement boosted his confidence. He tried again to raise his right arm only and was rewarded with the sense of it moving upward a few inches before falling back down. He was also rewarded with a bolt of pain that left him breathless.
“He’s awake.”
Once again, someone was speaking in a tone that suggested there was something much more important about this particular waking moment.
I have a feeling he’s right.
“Easy does it, General.”
That sounds like Sawbones.
Forka tried to speak, but nothing emerged from his throat except a weak croak.
“Bring me some water.”
Muffled footsteps approached. He felt someone touch his face. Cool clear water dribbled into his mouth. He swallowed, wanting more, but the source was pulled away.
“Only in small amounts. We don’t want him sicking up.”
That definitely sounds like Halliwell.
More water met his parched throat. Forka wanted to drink his fill but, once again, someone stopped the flow before he was ready.
“Can you speak now?”
Forka cleared his throat. “That you, Halliwell?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Why can’t I see?”
“You have been asleep for a few days, sir. Try to open your eyes a little at a time and they will get used to the light.”
“What’s happening?”
A pause. “There was a cave in, General.”
Forka’s breath caught in his throat. Memories flashed
through his mind: a vibration, screams, falling rock. “I remember.” He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “How bad is it?”
“Bad, sir.”
“I want details.”
“I think you need to rest—”
“I’m still the General and I need details.” Forka forced his eyelids to open, crying out at the blinding light that seared into his watering eyes. He tried to raise his hands to wipe away the moisture but the pain stopped him short.
“Let me help you.”
Forka allowed Sawbones to wipe his eyes. He blinked a few times to try to clear his vision but all he could see was a blur of grey and black.
“See about getting some broth.”
Forka couldn’t see who Halliwell was talking to. Fear inched its way through his veins. Something was very wrong.
“Out with it, Sawbones. What’s wrong with me?”
“You were injured in the cave in. Your leg...”
“What about my leg?” Forka asked slowly.
“We had to take it off to get you out of the tunnel. The damage was so severe I feared infection would spread and kill you. I’ve seen it happen with injuries that were not nearly as bad as yours.”
My leg is gone?
“You have a broken arm. That’s why you can’t move it. And you have some various bumps and bruises. You’re lucky to be alive, General.”
My leg is gone?
Forka couldn’t focus. Sawbones’ words flowed over him, through him, but he didn’t want to believe them. His breath caught in a throat that was closed too tight. The faces of the Jhinn flashed through his mind.
I’ve led them to their death.
“How many others were hurt?”
“We don’t have a complete count yet. We’re still digging through the rubble.”
“Is the Mekan still digging?”
“No. Oddly enough, it seems to have moved off. We can’t communicate with those that are outside so we don’t have any idea what’s going on.”
“Find the stranger that came with me to the encampment,” Forka ordered. In his own mind he cried out to the telepathic clone.
“He’s one of the missing.”
“What about Robert? Sloan? Brad?” With each name his voice grew quieter.
“They’re fine, and are aiding in the removal of the rubble that’s blocking the tunnels.”
Forka blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. Events were spinning out of control. As he lay there, Sawbones told him the rest of the news: many of the people loyal to Samson and Wild Bill had made it into the facility before the cave in, but had refused to help with the clean-up or with treating the injured. They had plenty of water thanks to the cisterns, but food was in short supply, as was air.
“If we don’t get through the blockages in the tunnels, we will run out of air very shortly.”
Forka barked a laugh. “If we can dig out of here, the Mekans will kill us anyway.”
“That’s no way to talk, General.”
“There’s always room for the truth. Maybe it’s best for everyone to die in here rather than meet their end out there.”
“That’s not the General I know talking.”
“The General you know never really existed. He’s a fraud.”
Sawbones harrumphed. “Nonsense. You’re just feeling sorry for yourself. Once you get your strength back, you’ll be back to your usual self.” Forka heard someone return and hand something to Sawbones. “Eat this.”
Forka sighed. The last thing he wanted was to allow someone to feed him as though he were an infant, but until he could raise his arms, he knew he didn’t have much choice. He suffered through each small spoonful. With each bite he swore he could feel strength flowing through his body. After a couple more swallows of water, he thought he might just survive.
His eyes had stopped watering and he could make out a little of his surroundings. He was in one of the rooms in the interior of the facility. As he lay there in semi-darkness, Forka could hear moans and cries, punctuated by a sharper scream of agony. He turned his head and saw people laid out on the floor. His vision grew dark after only a few rows. Shadowy figures moved between the injured, giving what aid they could.
As he lay there, Forka noticed tendrils of pain growing more insistent with each passing moment, gnawing at the stump where his left leg used to be, moving through his broken arm, slithering along his spine and spreading throughout his torso. Sweat covered his body as he squirmed, trying to get away from the torment.
“Here’s something to help with the pain. I can’t give you a full dose. There are so many injured and I am almost out of herbs.” Sawbones dribbled some foul-smelling concoction into his mouth.
Forka’s first instinct was to spit it out, but instead he forced himself to swallow. The pain ebbed and Forka was able to relax.
“Sleep. You’ll heal faster.”
“So you think you can give orders now, eh?”
“When it comes to my patients, yes. And that includes you, General.”
Forka smiled wryly as Halliwell moved away to see to his other patients. He tried to focus on the problems Sawbones had brought up but he couldn’t hold onto a thought for more than a few seconds before it flitted away. He hoped his friends on Astra would fare better than he had. Guilt clenched the muscles of his belly, making him feel nauseas. I never should have brought the Jhinn here. What was supposed to be their safe haven had turned into their tomb.
We’ve failed. Everyone will die because we failed.
ASTRA
JON FOLLOWED FA’ VEL THROUGH THE STREETS of Faerow. He did his best to ignore Fa’ Vel’s men as they looted the empty buildings.
Nothing but animals.
--They may be animals but they are loyal animals--
Jon glared at the dark magician’s back. He thought he had kept that last thought private.
“What are you so upset about? The people left their goods behind. Why not use them? The food will do nothing but rot if left in the stalls,” Fa’ Vel said.
“Food is one thing. Stealing more stuff than would fit on the ponies, if we still had them, is different.”
“Let them have their fun. They are more cooperative after they’ve been allowed to loot a little.”
Jon held his tongue and followed silently. He was on edge, wound as tightly as a lute string. It was more than Fa’ Vel’s men stealing. His skin literally crawled and he rubbed his arms absently. A whisper grew in his mind, becoming louder and more forceful with each passing second. Jon concentrated on slowing his heart rate down before it burst from his chest.
“If you keep breathing like that, you’ll pass out.” Fa’ Vel smirked.
“I think I may be coming down with something.”
Fa’ Vel laughed. “You most certainly are. It’s called the ‘dark power’.”
The news didn’t make Jon feel better. “How can I make it go away?” He scratched at his arms.
“We’ll practice after we finish searching the city. You’ll feel better after you use the power.”
The thought of using the magic made Jon grin. He quickened his pace, walking next to the dark magician, urging the man to move faster.
“Is that smoke?”
Jon looked in the direction Fa’ Vel pointed and nodded. “Looks like multiple fires.”
“It’s too far away to be within the city gates.” Fa’ Vel whistled and his men came running from all directions. “Keep searching the city but watch yourselves. There’s smoke outside the city so we might have company. Jon and I will see who’s out there.”
Fa’ Vel and Jon trotted to the front gates and moved around the outer wall. Both crept silently through the trees. Fa’ Vel took the lead. Jon followed closely behind. His heart raced but it wasn’t from fear. He hoped someone nefarious was out there, someone bent on doing them harm, so that he could practice using his power.
A small voice in Jon’s head shrieked at him that he should be shocked at wanting to use his ma
gic on someone but the voice was soon drowned out by Jon’s excitement. He moved faster, eager to see who was camped outside the city.
As they approached the smoke, they could hear the murmur of voices but they were too far away to make out who they were or what they were doing outside the safety of the city walls.
Jon turned at a chuckle from Fa’ Vel. The man was shaking his head.
“What’s so funny?”
“Don’t you recognize who they are?”
Jon moved closer, staying behind the low bushes. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the well-muscled guards dressed only in leather loincloths. Wicked swords hung at their sides.
“What is she doing here?” Jon whispered.
“I don’t know. But I mean to find out.”
***
“Good to see you again, your Grace.”
Jon almost felt sorry for the Queen of Siswae. As soon as she spotted Fa’ Vel striding through her meager camp, she backpedaled so fast she nearly lost her balance. Her hair was in disarray and her clothing could barely be called clothing, merely rags that had been thrown together to cover her nakedness.
“My, how the mighty have fallen.”
Cheye whirled around, her green eyes flashing. “I blame you for my current state.” She faced the man with her hands on her hips, looking almost like the Queen of a grand city.
“Did you come here thinking Patriarch Mordaen would help you? After all, you did take a title for yourself that no one has used on this world for many centuries. I think the man may have taken affront to such an act,” Fa’ Vel said.
“The man didn’t care so long as he got his ten percent of my country’s wealth each year. And who cares what I call myself? Lady Cheye just didn’t have the same ring to it as Queen Cheye.”
Fa’ Vel waved his hands. “It’s immaterial. If you’re looking for Mordaen, why are you camped outside the city?”
“He was gone by the time we arrived.”
“Still, being in the city would be safer than out here in the open, especially with those machines so close by.”
“At least we can run out here in the open. Faerow only has one way in or out. It would be too easy to become trapped.” Cheye peered past Fa’ Vel and her eyes widened when she spotted Jon. “Well, well, so you and my pet have joined forces.”