Rise of the Falsemarked (Spies of Dragon and Chalk Book 2)

by Samuel Gately

  They’d reached the library when a pack of NEST guards burst in. Jardere drew his sword and skewered one. Ash used his fists, quickly putting two on the floor. More were behind them. Jardere could hear Aaron, Shale and Matt tangling with them in the living room. He pressed forward, but another pack of blues was coming into the room. “Go, go, go,” he yelled at Ash, pushing him towards a third door. He followed as Ash ran in. The room was little more than a closet, but it had another door they ran through and were able to lock just before the NEST guards arrived. They turned to see an interior staircase. Ash ran up it.

  “I would have gone down,” Jardere said when they reached the top.

  “That’s what they expected,” Ash said, looking up from angrily rubbing his knee.

  The sounds of the struggle below them were much fainter. “Well, what now? Is this still the same apartment?” Jardere looked around. No balconies in sight, no easy exits. “Let’s find the hall.”

  They moved towards the interior of the building. It was deeper than wide and when they found the door out to the hallway, they faced a long hall full of doors. The front entrances to all the other apartments in the building. There were lit lamps with fancy glass sleeves. No sign of NEST on this level yet, but it couldn’t be long. Jardere took the lead, moving as quickly and quietly down the hall as possible. Ash followed him deeper into the building.

  It felt strange to be reunited with Ash. Though Jardere had never known him well, they’d spent many late nights together during their time with the Eostre Guard. Ash had been a bareknuckle boxer before enlisting. The combination of his size and his reputation as a fighter led to a high-ranking lieutenant snatching him up and using him as a bodyguard. Jardere was serving as a second to a captain charged with working with said lieutenant. They were supposed to be on a task force implementing a protection scheme for the Guard’s local arsenals. Since they were already perfectly protected, it was just an excuse for all the officers involved to get drunk every night. Jardere and Ash sat on chairs outside of private bar rooms, keeping out interlopers and making excuses for weeks at a time. Neither had been thrilled to be there. Just drawing a paycheck. Then Jardere had finished his term and linked up with Mario. Since then he’d been doing odd jobs for the shut-in, earning better gold and answering to fewer losers. Lots of hours working with Trevor, thinking of which gave Jardere a hard twinge of pain. To think Jardere’d opened the door to Trevor’s killer. His hand tightened on his sword hilt. NEST had much to answer for. Between him and Ash they could stack some bodies when they were discovered in this dim hallway. That might have to be enough to help Trevor’s soul rest.

  He glanced over at Ash, who had his own reasons to hate NEST. Word of his arrest had come to Mario a couple weeks ago. Apparently his retribution on the blues who raped his sister had been legendary. None had made it out of the room he found them in alive. Four on one and Ash unarmed. The rumors said NEST brought in a mason to get one of their men’s heads out of the wall it had been joined with.

  But Ash had to flee. His sister didn’t give up his location and got her throat cut for it. He got caught soon anyway. Only reason Ash hadn’t been killed on the spot or tortured to death in the cells under the Shields was that blood had run cold by then. NEST was passionate about protecting their own, but they didn’t have the tight ties more common among the military. None of the other blues knew or cared about the ones Ash had killed. They probably thought it was funny. Word was Hideon Bray had a tendency to use prisoners, especially ones with a public reputation, in entertainment for his men. Exotic gladiatorial contests which inevitably ended in death. Jardere was troubled to hear of Ash’s capture, remembering the quiet presence who never nodded off even as Jardere drifted in and out of sleep, bored outside of a barroom, snakeskin hat pulled down over his eyes.

  When Mario gave Jardere the job of watching the Shields for the easterners, it hadn’t been hard to find where Ash was kept. There was no shortage of NEST guards happy to take a bribe. Which helped when Jardere was given the interesting job of getting a supply pack into the prison for an unnamed prisoner who might end up there. The only instructions were to expect either a Castalanian or a Corvale to end up in the cells and get them whatever he could to help them survive and find their way out. Jardere couldn’t get weapons or tools inside and had to settle for coin and smokes. It had cost Jardere four times the roll of coins that ended up in Cal’s hands, three rolls for the three guards, an extra couple packs of smokes for Ash. Jardere hadn’t been allowed inside the Shields, forced to hand off everything to the guards. He was surprised it had gotten through. Maybe, even behind bars, the guards still had some fear of Ash.

  There were worse people to be stuck in this NEST deathtrap with. They just needed to find an unguarded exit or a safe place to lay low. As they continued down the hall, one of the doors opened and an old woman stuck her head out. She looked them up and down, Jardere’s drawn and bloody sword, Ash’s bloody fists hanging clenched at his sides. “Are you young men supposed to be here? There’s an awful commotion going on outside.” She was skeptical but undaunted. “I’ve got nothing of value, believe it or not,” she said.

  A banging echoed through the halls, maybe from the floor below. NEST was beginning to search door to door. Sounds of boots on doors drifted up. The old woman’s face tightened in a way it hadn’t as she’d observed Jardere’s sword. “NEST, not their first time here,” she practically spat out. She looked Jardere in the eyes. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

  Jardere was ready to move past her, but something in her eyes made him stop. She was unafraid. Jardere looked back over his shoulder. Looked back at the woman. He jerked his head towards Ash. “We got him out of a NEST prison earlier tonight. They’re looking for us.”

  “Oh,” she said. “And what did he do?”

  “Killed some blues raped his sister.”

  “Is that so?” She opened the door to her apartment. “Well, best to get you out of the hall. Come in. I’ve got a few hiding spots if it comes to that.”

  Jardere and Ash looked at her in surprise, then quickly ducked into the apartment. The woman threw the heavy bolt behind them with a satisfying click. She turned to them, hands clasped at her chest. “Now, then, tell me, in as much detail as you please, exactly how they squealed before they died. Filthy cowards.” She offered the pair a dark smile and led them to the kitchen. As Ash haltingly began his story, she scurried around the kitchen, preparing a light supper for her guests.

  …

  Aaron fell to a knee as a blue landed a hard punch on his forehead. For a second his vision blacked out. The blade would be coming in a second. He blindly raised his sword to block it. No strike followed. He felt a hand grip him under his armpit and pull him to his feet. Shale gave him a light slap on the cheek.

  “Come back to us, Corvale,” she said, then knelt to retrieve a knife from the throat of his attacker.

  Aaron looked around. He was with Shale and Matt James, a few buildings north of where the beggar had started the attack. Matt James stood over a couple of blues, but more were gathering at the door in front of him. They’d find the courage to try the room in a moment. The group was scattered. Cal, Ash, and Jardere were on the other side of the blues. Aaron spared a moment to worry about Trevor, then remembered he was already dead. Used as a puppet, a trick by the beggar with the broken teeth. The one whose hands they’d all be in if they didn’t get out of here and quick.

  Shale was looking around too. “Place this rich, we need to find the servants’ stairs. Something tells me NEST won’t. They’re coming through the front.”

  Aaron nodded. “This way.” He led her back towards the balcony they entered through. Matt James followed them, not turning his back on the blues. They were still tentative about testing the group until they had better numbers. From the sounds of shouting on the main stairs, it wouldn’t be long.

  “There,” Aaron pointed to an inconspicuous door in the back of the main chamber. Shale
tried it.

  “Yes, let’s go.” Their small group slid through the door. Shale took the lead down a set of dark, wooden stairs. Aaron and Matt James turned to study the door they had just passed through. There was no bolt on this side. Matt drew a knife and drove it into the wooden floor an inch or so back from the door. They turned to go down the stairs. Their barricade was tested a second later as someone tried the door. The blade held, at least for now.

  Shale took them down several stories. Aaron forgot to count floors, still a little shaken from the shot to his head. He was surprised to find them in the basement instead of the ground floor. Shale lit a candle she pulled from one of the pockets of her cloak. “Which way is east?” she asked, slowly turning around. “There you are.”

  Shale walked across the long basement. A ditch lined with rocks cut down the center of the dim space. She followed it to the stone wall, where it met a thick grating. “Matt, if you don’t mind.”

  Matt slid forward, gripped the grate, and rolled it out of the way, exposing a long tunnel where the ditch continued under the wall. He reached back for Shale’s candle, then entered the tunnel, ducking low.

  Shale gestured for Aaron to go next. As he passed her, she said, “The problem with NEST is that they have no laborers among them. Sure, they’re not all rich boys. They’ve got one or two folks who clawed or knifed their way up there from the working class, but most of them went straight from a comfortable life training with wooden swords and chasing women to working for Bray. They don’t really know how their city runs. Not like the workmen who keep this place from flooding in the rains.”

  Aaron gave her an appreciative nod as they entered the tunnel together and began a long, painfully crouched walk to freedom.

  …

  What Cal really wanted, aside from a ride out of this miserable city, was a blue uniform. He’d left a couple dead blues on the floor above him, but had been foolish enough the reenter the stairwell before realizing it was crawling with NEST. If he could get a uniform on, he could walk right out. Half of the bastards didn’t know the other half.

  Footsteps were coming up the stairs. “All clear,” he yelled down. He heard some grumbling, then someone called back with an “aye” and they headed back down. Cal hid a smirk. He couldn’t believe that’d worked.

  Still, there was no point to staying here. He followed the group down the stairs, carefully keeping out of their line of sight. They left through the front door. Now Cal could hear more NEST on the stairs above him, which forced him to continue forward. Fine. He’d rather take his chances on the streets anyway. There were more directions to run. He’d had enough of this up and down game. And more than enough balcony jumping for his lifetime. Cal left through the front door.

  Some of the group of blues in front of him turned. One dropped a half-lit cigarette to the ground. Another called out, which grabbed the attention of the others on the street. Cal was already running. It was now full night but NEST had brought plenty of light with them. Torches blazed at every corner. Dozens of men scattered around the streets. No sign of Aaron or the others, on the move or in NEST custody. Just when Cal thought it couldn’t get worst, he saw the first dragon. It shambled along on the ground, a falsemarked riding it like a horse, torch held high. The beast blocked the width of the street in front of Cal. Cal turned, ducking into an alley. A crossbow bolt rattled against the wall just behind him. Sounds of pursuit were growing, boots on the cobblestones.

  He ran down the dark alley. No doors, no turns. He burst onto the next street, not bothering to slow to check it out. He nearly made it across the street to the next alley when a group managed to get in front of him. Cal swung his sword, but it was knocked from his hand. Someone piled into him hard from behind. Cal fell to the stones, scrambling to find his sword. The torchlight was all over him. He had a sudden fear they would just burn him alive right here, repayment for making them run so many days. Instead, the blues leapt onto his limbs, holding him to the ground.

  Clay Duren appeared in front of him, omnipresent loaded crossbow held low. “Good. Chain him up.” Clay watched for a moment as the blues followed his order, then he leaned over Cal and said, “You had a pleasant day, I hope.”

  Cal, pinned to the ground, pulled at his arms, giving a token resistance borne of frustration. “How many of you assholes are there and I keep running into you?”

  Clay replied, “You think that’s an accident, Castalanian?”

  Clay leaned forward and Cal looked up at him, ready to respond, when, through Clay’s legs, at the lip of the dark alley Cal had almost made it to, the light of the torches illuminated the face of the beggar with the broken teeth. A face filled with a murderous rage, shaking with fury as he looked at Cal. The bastard had been waiting for Cal to make it to that next alley. And if the beggar had caught him, alone in the shadows, Cal guessed he wouldn’t be headed to the Shields alive. Whatever agenda Clay and the rest of NEST were following, the beggar wasn’t on it. He wanted Cal dead.

  Clay turned, following Cal’s eyes, but the beggar had already receded into the black. Clay continued staring at the darkness for a long moment, slowly rotating and turning his back to Cal, trying to figure out what had drawn Cal’s attention. He surrendered after a few more seconds and lowered his crossbow. “Tie him up,” he said, not turning back to look at Cal on the ground, “after you search him for weapons. I have a feeling Bray won’t be so nice this time.”

  Chapter 28. Into the Ceiling

  Aaron Lorne waited back in the shadows. Shale and Matt James had been watching the street, peeking out from around the corner of a building, for nearly five minutes. He tried to keep a handle on his impatience. The apartment taken, Trevor dead, Cal, Jardere and Ash all missing and they sat and watched an empty street.

  Shale leaned around the corner one more time, then gave Matt a small shove on his shoulder. He left the shelter of the shadows and walked openly across the street towards a large building. The street was quiet, some sort of serviceway that wasn’t in heavy use.

  Shale straightened out of her crouch and walked back to Aaron. “How about I choose the next stop? Not that I didn’t like the apartment in Gestlin Gardens, but it was a little unfortunate we were interrupted.” She gave him a playful smile, reached out to touch his pixie eye softly. She opened her mouth as if to say something more, but a faint knocking sound drifted into the alley.

  “We’re all clear,” Shale said brightly. “I’m taking you to EU headquarters. Come.”

  They slid across the street, following the direction Matt had taken and the sound of the knock. They met him a moment later, waiting by an open door. It was a single square of darkness on a huge wall, rising four or five stories of stacked cinderblock with no windows or decoration. The group quickly went inside. A guard waited for them. He bolted the door behind them and stepped out of the way. Matt and Shale each gave a nod and then headed up a wide staircase.

  They climbed four dark flights of stairs before they reached the top. Shale grabbed Aaron’s arm as he reached the top landing. “Here’s the fun part.” She gave Matt another gesture and he climbed up on the railing. He carefully balanced on top of it and reached up to the edge of the ceiling just above them. Aaron couldn’t see exactly what he did, but when his hand came back he was holding a knotted rope, dangling down several feet, fastened securely to the ceiling. He gripped the rope and swung out over the stairwell. Then he climbed up, tucking the rope between his knees to free up his hands. When he’d positioned himself just below the ceiling, he reached up to push on a hidden panel, revealing a trapdoor. He climbed into it. Shale followed him and Aaron, after studying her motions, was right behind them.

  Once through the trapdoor, he straightened in a dimly lit space. The floor below him was mostly a fine black gravel. Another guard, stationed at the trapdoor, watched him suspiciously. Aaron gave him a small nod, then turned to examine his surroundings.

  He looked out on a vast thicket of evenly spaced poles, every ten feet or
so in every direction. They held up sheets of what looked like canvas, creating a tentlike ceiling. It ran several hundred yards. There were only a few lights scattered in the space. Most of the light was coming from a single source, a brightness welling up from a circle in the floor far off in the distance.

  “Where are we?” he asked after Shale sent Matt running off into the dark.

  “You don’t know? Come, I’ll show you.” She took his arm familiarly and led him towards the light in the distance. As they walked among the poles, Aaron saw dozens of small groups of people clustered together. Some were eating, others sleeping. Any who were awake watched Aaron and Shale pass, admiration for her, suspicion for him. As they neared the light source, Aaron saw more armed men and women, alert and ready. Most stood back from the circle of light in the floor, pouring over maps and papers, in urgent but hushed discussions. A few stood right at the lip of the circle, staring down.

  They reached the edge and Aaron looked down. It took him a few moments to process what he was seeing. There was a party below him. Far below him, at least three stories. Ellis’ finest were having some sort of cocktail party. He was staring down from the center of a giant circular skylight in the top of a banquet hall.

  Shale said, “That’s River Hall just below us. The largest available party or convention space available in Ellis, aside from the Shields.”

  Aaron turned back, studied the poles and canvas that made the ceiling above them. There were no poles, no canvas strewn over the skylight. The people below could see straight up to the stars. “We’re standing on the roof?”

  “That’s right,” Shale replied. “We gave it a little makeover. It’s our own little version of the Shields, except with a solid roof instead of a clear one. Hidden instead of flaunted. These sheets look just like the roof, so none of our NEST friends see anything strange from above. During the day we keep quiet so we don’t alert the staff here, though many of them work for us now. And at night, as long as we keep our lights dim, we get the best seat in all of Eostre to watch the powers that be wheel and deal. They make plenty of noise, so we don’t have to worry about that. And when we see a good opportunity, we can always duck into the party. Make new friends, remind old enemies we’re watching.” Shale reached out and gently touched the arm of a man watching the party next to them. “Anything interesting going on?” she asked.