The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four)

by Ivory Autumn

  “Silence!” The pompous man roared, “Silence. You have spoken treason! You will be punished, along with…” He paused, and sniffed the air as if he had smelled something very unpleasant. Then he leaned in closer, and sniffed Lancedon. “Ugg. He smells filthy. What do you have to say for yourself you filthy beggar. For I’m sure that’s what you are, for you can be no other. Don’t you know that it’s as against our laws to beg as it is against our laws to be dirty, stinky, and disfigured? You could be fined very heavily for your crimes, taxed, and perhaps executed!”

  Lancedon set his jaw, looking very kingly and noble, even covered in mud. Though his eyes saw nothing, they glistened a deeper brown than ever before, as if though veiled in darkness, he saw the heaven’s themselves. “I am not a beggar!”

  “If you are not a beggar, then who are you?”

  Lancedon breathed in deeply, scanning the crowd as if seeing every last person who had gathered to watch. He could hear the ripple of murmurs and their voices, and the energy of their hard stares as they looked at him. “I am a voice!” He cried with such power and emotion that it cut through the crowd like a sharp knife, piercing all who heard him. “I am Lancedon, son of a king. I am a bearer of truth, and I will not keep silent. You seek to punish me because I am blind. But if I am blind, how much more are you? For you cannot see the great bondage that you yourselves are now in. You cannot see the oppression of your own people. You, who claim to see, grope in a darkness far more paralyzing than my own. What has caused this blindness, what has caused you to forget? How can I wake you? You who are slaves but do not know it. Do you not see that the world is heading into darkness? We must try to stop it before the chains that bind us are too heavy for us to move. Now is the time! There is no middle ground, no safe place. We must rise together. Peace has been taken from the earth.

  The only peace we can find now is to fight the power that is trying to destroy us. You have heard. Now listen. And open your minds to the awful state you are in. If these are the last words I have to say, then I will say them. There is coming a binding so tight, so powerful, so evil that once it has gotten hold, it may never let us go. We must fight it now, while the light still shines. For when the darkness has come, it may be too late. You must show the world where you stand. So stand with me! Today! They have come for your firstborn, they have come for your weapons, and it may not be long until they come for your lives. What will it take for you to wake? What will it take for you to understand that the power you have given to this great evil will consume you? It will devour you until you no longer exist!”

  “Silence, beggar!” The judge roared, his face purple from anger. “Silence! You are a fool, and an idiot. Stand with you? My people will not stand with you. A beggar, a filthy nobody. Stand against what? We are happy, we are not oppressed. We are perfectly content and secure. This darkness you speak of is something you have created out of your own dark mind to scare my people. You will speak no more!”

  “No!” Lancedon roared. “I will not be silent!”

  The judge, now fully enraged, smacked Lancedon across the face with his rod, bringing him to his knees.

  “We have heard quite enough. You are a raving lunatic. Who ever heard of a blind beggar stirring up people to fight? You have condemned yourself, ten fold. You will be punished along with a girl, a stranger brought in just a moment ago. Bring her forth. She too will be dealt with.”

  “Coral?” Lancedon cried.

  The judge narrowed his eyes, and folded his arms. “So you do know her? Good. I supposed as much for you both are crazy.”

  Coral was thrust next to Lancedon. “Lancedon,” she cried, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I left you. You must have felt so alone.”

  “You’re here now.” He gripped her with trembling hands. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I’m fine.”

  “Where’s Zeechee and the others?” he asked.

  Coral shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Silence!” The judge snapped. “You two are not to speak unless commanded to do so.” “You may do whatever you wish with me,” Lancedon replied. The judge smacked his lips together, and laughed. “My, but you are so very gallant.” He grinned, causing his fat cheeks to bulge, as if he held a large nut in his mouth. “But that, too, is outlawed. There’s so much counterfeiting going on. No one knows what the real thing is nowadays. One can’t be too careful. Only the very precise may practice gallantry, and that is only if you have a certified certificate.”

  Lancedon backed away from the judge. He could feel the heavy judgment in the voice of the man who condemned him. Yet he knew all of it was a lie. All was a façade. Their endless laws were merely to keep the people in constant fear. There was no room for error. All was cold, brittle, and ready to crack. All Lancedon had to do was press hard enough.

  “Do you have to have a certificate to be a puppet as well?” Lancedon asked. “You seem overqualified for the job.”

  The judge glowered at Lancedon. “Actually, I was the top of my class. Graduated with honors. But you know how it goes. You always end up somewhere that only uses a fraction of your talents. I could have been so much…more…”

  “I see,” Lancedon smiled, “I think you are using quite enough of your talents right here.”

  “Really? You think so?”

  Lancedon just smirked, seriously wishing he could put the man in his proper place.

  “What are you thinking?” the judge snapped. “You looked as if something very dark just crossed your mind.”

  Lancedon’s smile grew wider. “A man can think can’t he?”

  “No. He can’t. It’s against the law to have dark thoughts.”

  “I was having no such thoughts. Only very pleasant ones. One where I was knocking you over the side of the head with the blunt end of my sword. It was a very good thought indeed. Very pleasant.”

  The judge’s eyes grew wild. His face pinched into a horrible scowl. “You are sadistic, and evil! He raged, sending spit flying into Lancedon’s face. “Thinking such thoughts is a crime, a very serious crime. We must punish these strangers for their crimes. For both of these horrible people have broken more laws than I care to mention today. Not to mention that that man is blind, and both are strangers. To be a stranger is a capital offence, and to be seen walking our streets, with a weapon and a book, and to publicly voice one’s opinions are very bad. There’s no end to the damage he may have caused today. Feelings may have been hurt. Thousands offended. And on top of that, I’m sure both of them have not paid their stranger tax for entering our fair city. No, and I’m sure they have not paid the sidewalk tax for walking on our streets, nor the snow tax for walking in the snow, nor dirt tax for bringing in grime from the outside world, nor paid their tax for wearing clothes not of our make. For these and many other such crimes, such as bearing weapons, and being in possession of an outlawed book, they are worthy of the harshest of punishments. Perhaps death.”

  “No!” Sterling’s voice rang out through the crowd. “It is you who deserve death!”

  “Yes!” Zeechee’s powerful voice said in turn, answered by the voice of his men. The loud declaration rippled through the crowd as prisoners, and outcasts from deep within the city seeped in through the gathering, bearing swords, their faces filled with defiance. The crowd stared in amazement at these bold, brave, outlaws. The very same people they had let be dragged away and imprisoned, people much like themselves, and very unlike them in many ways. These outcast and slaves were people who thought differently. They were people with voices that stirred up troubling thoughts. They were people with different ways, and different ideas. Some were people whose skin was a different color. Some were people who did not comply with every rule, nor did they pay their taxes, or respect to their great judge Willcicle. These were great evildoers, and lawbreakers indeed.

  These outcasts now preset, gathered together in one place, for all to see. The sight of so great a number of lawbreakers, slaves, and pri
soners was astonishing to those who dwelled in the city. Those lawbreakers standing before them did not look so different than they. They did not look evil, or vile, or bad. They only looked different, refreshing, and new. They even smelled fresh, like a cleansing rain. In fact they looked better then they themselves, who were clean, and disinfected of every impurity.

  The outcast’s numbers were great, almost greater than those who lived within the city. It was breathtaking to see. It was powerful and moving. Though these people had been shut away and swept under the carpet, here they were. Their eyes were clear, their faces gaunt, and their jaws set in righteous anger. Though Lancedon could not see any of this, he felt the power in their voices. In that moment he knew that Sterling and Zeechee had succeeded. He had been right. The city had contained fragments of truth, and those fragments were now all gathered together united, and strong.

  The judge’s face filled with anger and surprise as he scanned the crowd which was now full of all manner of impure people who had been outlawed by The Fallen himself. These were people who had been hidden, tucked away from ever being seen. People who dared defy the law, and were now standing before him. The sight disgusted him to the core.

  Misty shafts of light from forbidden, unsaid words drifted over the gathering, whispering outlawed words that should have never been said, should have never been heard.

  The judge shook an angry fist in Lancedon’s face. “This is your doing. I shall have your head for this! Guards!” the judge howled. “Get them! Kill them. All of them! And catch those words before any more damage is done! Quickly! Let none of these misfits escape!”

  At the judge’s cold, cruel words, the city, once filled with hollow words, and hollow faces, and cold eyes and frozen souls, suddenly cracked in half, not able to bear the weight of both opposing forces of heat and ice now within it. The sound was so loud that it caused the ground to shake, and pieces of the city walls to shatter.

  The warmth of Lancedon’s words and the shouts of those who followed him were too much for the icy city to bear. The number of imprisoned, and suffering could no longer be hidden, no longer be denied, and passed over. The great indifference that had caused the city to freeze over, melted, fracturing the city at its foundation, causing a great dividing. The earth rumbled. It felt as though something great and good, and wonderful had just happened.

  In that moment half of the people of the city, people whose hearts had iced over, people who hadn’t cared, people who had been indifferent, and unfeeling for many, many years, began to feel, began to see, began to look, began to listen.

  The freed words that had gone on before had thawed their minds just enough for Lancedon’s words to penetrate their souls, and cause a great thawing.

  Soldiers poured through the crowd towards those whom Zeechee had freed, towards the city’s own outcast, with the intent of silencing them forever.

  Suddenly the crowed exploded like a great body of water held in place for many years by a weakening dam. Voices all spoke at once. Cries and the clashing of swords filled the air. All was heat, and sweat, and blood, and tears, and resolve.

  “No!” The judge howled. “No! This can’t be happening. Not in my city. No!”

  Coral cried out and slugged the soldier holding her. Then she pushed the judge off Lancedon’s sword, and quickly picked it up. “Lancedon!” She cried, raising the sword, and holding it aloft. “Stay behind me.” She grabbed Lancedon’s hand and pulled him through the mob.

  As if carried by an unseen power, Coral and Lancedon fought their way into the heart of the mob, where Zeechee and her brother were fighting.

  Lancedon was lifted onto a horse, and urged on to the front of the throbbing crowd. A sea of men and women poured around them, their eyes filled with fire, their voices filled with strength. The crowd gathered momentum and pushed their way through the city, a force doubled in strength by its long silence. A cry ran throughout the city of Summit, a cry that had never before been heard. The sound caused every frozen, icy, unbending part of the icy city to crack, and fracture. This cracking caused warmth to flood in and awake their souls to the sound of their own voice. A voice they had not heard in a very long time.

  The people began to speak things and say things they had never before voiced. The more they spoke, the freer they became, and the more uplifted they felt. Unhindered and unchained, their voices resounded with those unleashed whispers that floated in on the air. The sound grew in volume as they went throughout the city, crushing the soldiers that came at them, gathering more followers as they went.

  It was a rare victory like no other. It was as if, in one moment, the pent up imprisonment the city had long been under, swelled, and exploded in every direction, an unstoppable force that the rulers of the city had not been prepared for. For they had grown lax in their care, and guardianship of their land. They had supposed that their iron hand and their constant guidance had schooled the people so well that the chains that held them in place were the chains they themselves had made.

  They needed no other.

  But the chains were now broken.

  The festering city was flooded with renewal, and an awakening at last.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Entombed

  The water was freezing, but Andrew did not feel it. His whole body had become numb.

  But his mind was not. It screamed out, begging for freedom. He was trapped beneath the ice, while his men fought above him. He was supposed to be up there with them, fighting. Guilt and anger filled his heart. He had abandoned his men when they needed him the most.

  He pressed his hands against the ice, banging against it with all his might. But the ice was too thick. He moved to another place, probing the ice with his hands, but the ice was the same, hard and as thick as a solid rock. There were no openings. The ice stood unyielding, locked in place, like a lid on coffin, holding him in.

  He could hear the muffled sounds of horse beats pounding against the ice, and feet trampling, seemingly unaware that he was trapped beneath them. Desperate, he tried using his sword against the ice, but the weapon was too heavy---it pulled him down, dragging him deeper within the ocean. Black water engulfed him, filling his lungs, and nose. He felt like someone had stuffed his lungs full of black rags. Everything within him cried out. This was not the way he was supposed to die. If he was to die, he wanted to die above the ice, with his men. He could never live with himself knowing that he had forsaken his men.

  He was tempted to let go of the sword that dragged him down, like an anchor to forever rest at the bottom of the ocean. But he could not let it go. In the blade he still felt the power of the souls who gave it strength. He felt that as long as he held onto the sword, he had not utterly abandoned those souls fighting above him.

  The water swirled around him as if dragging him down with black fingers. He struggled against it until he could no longer struggle. His body grew limp, his mind fogged. All was water and darkness. Then gradually a light appeared, soft at first and then brilliant. He reached out his hand, and something caught hold it. It tugged him away from the light.

  A warm hand touched his face. Lips pressed against his, breathing life into his lungs. The air that was breathed into them, seemed to evaporate the water in his nose and lungs, giving him life. The second the air washed into his lungs, the light he had seen instantly vanished. Warm arms wrapped around his cold body, tugging him up through the water. Above him he could hear the muffled sounds of battle, though distant, and almost dreamlike. The arms holding him would sometimes stop, and hold his body close, warming his. Then in systematic increments, he would receive air from lips that gave him life. He could not see who this person was through the black water, but he didn’t need to see to know who his rescuer was.

  He was in Ivory’s hands.

  It was a strange sensation, being tugged along through the water, then given air. His mind was foggy. The cold water caused his body to grow numb. He slipped from Ivory’s grasp several times. But she was always
there to bring him back up. The minutes seemed to drag on. He became so numb that he felt like he would soon turn into a brick of ice. It was all he could do to hold onto those life-giving arms. The surface of the ice seemed to go on forever, in a long unbroken sheet. The sounds of the battle had gradually faded. It was as if he and Ivory were just existing, becoming part of the ice itself, frozen and frosted over. He drifted off into numb stupor, where he no longer was aware of what was happening. Time, space, moving, even Ivory, all faded from his mind.

  A loud crash above the ice caused him to reawaken. Ivory pulled him through the water towards the sound, up and up. Small slabs of broken ice floated around him. Then he saw it. Light.

  There was a crack in the ice, big enough for them to get through. A hand reached out from above, and grabbed Ivory’s outstretched hand. She and Andrew were both pulled up through the ice, and onto its surface.

  “Ivory!” Freddie’s voice panted, “Andrew. Oh, you’re alive! I knew you would be. I don’t know how. But I knew…”

  “You knew?” Ivory scoffed. “Really?”

  Freddie’s stricken eyes filled with tears. He fell to his knees, and began blubbering. “No…actually I didn’t. I just had to do something. I had to…” His voice broke off and he began to sob again.

  Andrew lay there, his face against the ice, shivering, he felt so cold and numb that he could barely feel himself think.

  “Freddie,” Ivory cried. “Hand me your cloak. He’s freezing.”

  “Aren’t you cold?” Freddie wondered taking off his cloak and wrapping it around Andrew. “The water’s freezing. You’ve been locked under there for hours.”

  Ivory hugged Andrew to her, chaffing his frozen skin. “I’m fine, I’m like a fish, if you haven’t already guessed. You could say it’s in the blood. I acclimatize to the water, whatever the temperature.”