by Mary Wine
Seven
Escaping the compound was easier than she’d expected. The king was embarking on a morning expedition, just as the note had said. His servants were focused on making sure they had everything necessary for his comfort. There were carriages and wagons loaded with chairs and tents and every other manner of comfort.
Janette simply took a place inside one of the carriages with the other women of his household. Everyone was busy, their minds on their tasks. The women noted and smiled at her, clearly thinking she had been invited. Still, she fought to keep her expression serene when they began to approach the gates. The guards stood at attention as their monarch rode past and never gave the women riding after him even a glance. Some of the women in the other carriages were young, and she realized they were consorts.
The morning light was waking the inhabitants of the jungle. Colorful birds flew from tree to tree while butterflies fluttered about. The carriage rolled toward the coast, leaving the trees behind. The sound of the breaking surf filled the air as the carriage came to a stop. Everyone alighted and began to unload the wagons.
Janette pulled a parasol from the carriage and used it to hide her face as she wandered away from the king’s party. For a moment, she faltered, wondering if she hadn’t made a grave error in not waiting for Darius. But Sophia wasn’t a member of the Order; it was very possible he’d consider the matter out of their control.
She couldn’t take the risk, not with Sophia’s life. Janette forced herself to walk farther away from the king’s group, walking up to the tree line while searching for any sign of Dr. Nerval.
“So, you have loyalty in you.” Grainger appeared from behind a palm tree. His vest was open, and his shirt too. “I wonder what your fiancé will make of your departure.”
His lack of dress should have offended her, but she realized she was far more Illuminist than the daughter her father had raised to be a lady of high society because she didn’t care a bit; her mind was focused completely on her goal.
“Where is Sophia?” she demanded.
Grainger offered her a smug look. “Are you sure we have more than her cameo?”
“She never lets it out of her sight. It was the last gift her mother gave her.”
“How sweet,” Grainger groused. “Disgustingly so. But beneficial to our cause. Where is the note?”
Janette pulled the letter from her jacket and tossed it toward him. The paper was too light and fluttered to the ground, but at least she had the satisfaction of watching Grainger stoop down to retrieve it.
“Did she follow instructions?” a new voice interrupted. One of the orderlies from the clinic appeared, shooting a hard look toward Grainger.
Grainger opened the letter and scanned it quickly. “Get the other one out of the pit. The doctor isn’t a patient man.”
Janette glared at the orderly, recalling the bite of the leather straps very well.
“I’m minding my post,” Grainger insisted. He moved his hand, and for the first time, Janette saw the small pistol he held. He had the weapon’s muzzle aimed at the ground. The orderly kicked at some dead palm leaves piled on the ground nearby to reveal an opening.
“I was going to enjoy shooting her, you know. She doesn’t know when she’s been beaten. Damned bloody nuisance.”
The orderly reached down and hefted a bundle out of the pit the leaves had concealed. A burlap sack was over the person’s head, and when he pulled it free, Sophia’s blond hair shimmered in the tropical sun. She was gagged with a thick strip of fabric torn from the hem of her dress, and another length was wrapped around her wrists and body to keep her arms from being of any use. But her eyes were full of fury, proving the orderly true. Sophia hadn’t been reduced to sniveling by her circumstances.
“You animals,” Janette hissed.
The orderly was unmoved by her words; in fact, he appeared somewhat pleased.
“She’s alive. That’s what you’ve earned by coming.” Grainger scanned the beach behind her for a long moment. “But she’s only going to stay that way if you came alone.” He pressed the gun into Sophia’s side while glaring at Janette. “If your lover shows his face, I’m going to kill her.”
The orderly grabbed Sophia’s upper arm in his large hand. “Then let’s go before someone comes over here to see what we’re doing. We don’t blend in here.”
“No, we don’t,” Grainger agreed. He shoved the pistol into his pocket. “I can pull it out again in a moment, so do remember your dear friend is relying upon you to safeguard her.”
Sophia tried to say something to him, her cheeks turning red as her eyes narrowed. Grainger tipped his head back and laughed. Janette yanked the gag off her friend but froze when Grainger leveled the pistol at Sophia.
“Not a single sound out of either of you.” He gestured with the weapon toward the thick foliage of the tropical jungle. “And get moving before I have to start shooting you in nonlethal places just to keep you motivated. I promise the wounds will be excruciatingly painful and, in this climate, likely to fester.”
“We’re going,” Janette retorted without a trace of respect in her tone. She grabbed Sophia and heard her friend cry out softly.
But the pistol was too real for either of them to ignore.
“What are we going to do?” Sophia whispered.
“I don’t know, just keep moving. We’ll figure something out.”
Janette just hoped she could make good on her promise.
***
Darius should have been furious. His honor should have been offended, but instead, he was stone-cold terrified. There wasn’t a man alive he feared, but seeing the evidence that Dr. Nerval was indeed a Helikeian turned his blood cold.
“Someone needs to contact London. Once they have Janette, I expect they will dispatch someone to kill her parents to cover their tracks,” Lykos said. “That way they can kill us and cover their tracks completely.”
Guardian Cyrus Vettel of the local Solitary Chamber nodded. “My people will attend to it. As for the Pure Spirit, how many Guardians do you need to neutralize her?”
“She left in a blind panic. Neutralization isn’t a foregone conclusion,” Darius insisted.
Cyrus wasn’t convinced; he knelt next to the writing Janette had left behind.
“This female was raised among high society.” Darius pointed at the corset still lying where Janette had abandoned it. “She wouldn’t have ventured past the door without that unless she was panicked.”
“Yet she did refuse to take the Oath of Allegiance,” Cyrus countered. “Since she is your fiancée, you should remove yourself from the search.”
“She isn’t my fiancée. It was a ruse to prevent Marshal Agapitos from using his authority to remove her from my sight,” Darius answered smoothly. He ground his teeth together, frustrated by how much he had to struggle to maintain his composure. Janette undermined his discipline like nothing else.
“A clever one, too,” Lykos added. “As a Marshal, Agapitos had the superior rank, and he knew it.”
“I will need a full squad to rescue them both.”
Darius didn’t wait to see if Cyrus would agree with him. He left the hut and hurried to change out of his ruined clothing. Instead of the formal clothing they’d endured to impress the king, he put on canvas pants and a thin lawn shirt to protect his skin from the sun. The vest he reached for was all leather, with pockets and rings sewn into it for the tools he’d need to traverse the jungle. His hat was leather, and he made sure his goggles were in his pocket. The Crystal Fields were a dangerous place. He pulled on knee-high leather boots, but even the stiff leather might not be enough to keep him from being burned. He took his gauntlets with him as he ducked beneath the low doorway of the hut. Lykos was just finishing dressing himself but frowned when Decima appeared in a pair of pants.
“I am going,” she announced in a clear and steady tone. She’d changed into serviceable clothing too.
“Women do not belong on a hunt.” The king’s herald
appeared, the Hawaiian guards flanking him. “And you will not be departing from this compound with all your members. My king would be displeased to hear your Pure Spirit is hunting crystals while he has nothing here to ensure you will trade honestly with him.”
“Leave the woman.”
“They will not,” Decima argued. “I belong on this mission as much as any other.”
“Yet you are more valuable because you can produce new life,” the herald informed her. “My king would insist on keeping you because your warriors will return for you.”
“Bloody primitive attitude,” Decima muttered softly enough to keep her words from drifting to the herald. “Talk him out of it, Darius.”
The herald held his hand up, keeping the carriages waiting at the gate. These were Illuminist ones, with no horses pulling them.
“We don’t have time to argue, Decima,” Darius offered softly.
Her eyes narrowed. “Since you resigned your post, you do not have the authority to give me orders.”
“But I do,” Lykos answered. “I am your superior, and you will do your part by remaining inside this compound to satisfy the king. Is that understood?”
Decima was furious. Her green eyes flashed at Lykos. “It’s understood.”
A hiss and gurgle announced the arrival of the carriages. Darius turned to move toward the gate with the other Guardians falling into step behind him. The guards allowed them through, while he felt Decima’s gaze like a dagger on his back.
“It will be better this way,” Lykos muttered as the carriage pulled away.
“For everyone except you,” Darius answered.
Lykos shook his head. “I disagree, my friend. I have no wish to be wearing the shoes you discover yourself in today.” His expression tightened. “Our lives are too dangerous for anything beyond duty.”
Darius understood his friend too well. The truth was coiled in his gut, slowly burning while he tried to think of a way to rescue Janette. He should have been considering the most effective method of neutralizing the threat she posed to the Order. His emotions shouldn’t have been involved beyond a slight recognition of the fact that it was a waste of a valuable resource.
Instead, he heard her laugh and recalled the way she’d demanded to ride him. He saw her blond hair lying over her shoulders like a shimmering curtain and remembered the silky texture perfectly. Her scent, the sound of her breathing when she was asleep in his embrace, and a hundred other details flooded his mind.
But what bothered him the most was the fear that he’d be unable to reclaim her. For years, he’d thought his heart was dead. It wasn’t. He’d just walled it up behind his duty, and it had taken a slip of a society girl with a spirit that wouldn’t be intimidated by his strong exterior to break through the barrier.
Damned if that didn’t make him adore her even more.
***
Dr. Nerval was pleased.
Janette studied the arrogance in his eyes, wanting to memorize it. She needed to hate him. She needed to overcome years of teaching that had whitewashed her thinking, because she wasn’t safe in some high-society house where things like kidnapping were fiction.
The doctor looked at the Illuminist pin on her lapel. Hatred flared up in his eyes. “You are my discovery. It will be the Helikeians who reap the benefits of your abilities. A fact you would have been wiser to learn while at my clinic. Now, due to your disobedience, there is someone else involved.”
“Don’t you dare try to place the guilt for your crimes on my shoulders,” Janette argued. It felt good to speak her mind to him, but the orderly standing next to her reached out and backhanded her.
The doctor smiled, satisfaction shimmering in his eyes. “Thank you, George. As you can see, she shall require firm handling. I’ll expect you to attend to that need most intently. Our purpose shall not suffer further setbacks due to emotional outbursts.”
“Animal,” Sophia sputtered. She turned to stare straight at George, never flinching when he delivered a solid blow to her cheek. Her head snapped to the side, but she righted herself quickly and sent the doctor a hard look.
Dr. Nerval sat down in a large chair. The hut they were in had window shutters, but they were closed to conceal what the occupants were doing. It made the structure stuffy and hot.
“Now. To the matter at hand,” the doctor began. “Beyond the boundaries of this settlement, there is a recent lava flow. The eruption has ceased, allowing us the wonderful opportunity to search for new crystals.”
“It takes hundreds of years for Deep Earth Crystals to grow.”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, but lava accelerates the process. If magma flows over the seeds of a crystal and the conditions are perfect, stage-four crystals can grow in a matter of months. We might even be so fortunate as to discover a root ball.”
“What is that?”
The doctor’s eyes glowed. “The root ball is absorbed back into the crystal when it grows at a normal pace. Beneath a lava flow, they are sometimes still intact. When broken, a root ball will release a pulse of light capable of causing mutation in the cones of the human eye that will allow that person to see the dimension seams.”
“So that is how one becomes a Navigator.”
“Exactly.” The doctor tapped his cane against the floor, but the packed earth beneath their feet only offered a dull sound. “A Navigator is a self-made man. Like Bion Donkova there. You are proving your worth well.”
The First Officer nodded. He was standing near the door, his arms crossed over his chest. The pose reminded her of Darius too much—except for the fact that Bion was clearly a traitor to the Illuminist pin he was wearing. His crimson coat was open now, showing his lack of regard for the formality of the uniform.
“If she finds a root ball, it’s mine,” he insisted.
The doctor frowned, but Bion abandoned his lazy stance, moving across the hut with clear purpose. “I am not jumping ship for just any reason. You told me any root ball discovered would be mine to make use of.”
“You are not the only one who wants the root ball.”
Grainger raised his pistol, but Bion only grinned at him. It was an arrogant expression, making it clear that the First Officer didn’t think much of the threat.
“You have no choice but to take whatever I offer you,” Dr. Nerval spoke firmly. “Your absence will be noted by now.”
Bion chuckled softly. “Care to try my nerve, Doctor?” There was only the softest of sounds as his foot connected with the pistol. It was an expert Asian fighting-arts kick, and the weapon went skidding off into the wall.
“You bastard!” Grainger snarled. He launched himself toward Bion but ended up sprawled on the floor after one solid strike to his neck.
“The root ball is yours,” the doctor insisted.
Bion froze, his arm raised to deliver another blow to Grainger’s temple. He had the man’s arm pulled and twisted up to his hip, rendering him immobile. He leaned against Grainger’s arm, drawing a groan from his victim.
“You have my pledge,” Dr. Nerval said solemnly.
“Then we have a deal,” Bion muttered before releasing Grainger.
Grainger rolled over and stood tall. “I won’t forget that.”
“Good,” Bion shot back.
“Enough,” the doctor interrupted. “We are becoming distracted. Take them both up to the lava flow and put them to work.”
He pointed his cane at Janette. “Run, and your friend will suffer for it. Decide to sacrifice her, and you will suffer.” He smiled, the cold twist of lips she recalled from the clinic, which evoked the memory of Darius telling her this man had ordered five other women lobotomized.
“Do not underestimate my ability to cause suffering. I assure you, I am very good at it. George? See that she is secure.”
The orderly pointed toward the door. Janette was all too happy to leave the hut. Outside, the island was a tropical paradise. Huge trees grew high into the air to compete for sunshine. The sound of birds filled the
afternoon air as the wind tugged on the hem of Sophia’s torn dress. The soil was rich and black. Janette could see why. Ahead of her was a barren expanse where lava had recently covered the jungle. It looked like hell on Earth: no hint of life anywhere on what looked like an endless expanse of solid rock.
“Now prove you are worth the trouble I have gone to.”
The doctor had followed them. The tip of the cane jabbed her in the lower back, sending pain down her legs.
“Go!” His voice was long and thin now, almost giddy. “Listen for the crystals, and harvest what my brethren need to be strong.”
“I’m going, but only to be away from you.” She’d have been wiser to keep silent, but it felt too good to speak her mind.
“A fine idea,” Sophia agreed. “You have always been a fine judge of character, Janette.
George turned and slapped Sophia. Janette turned on the doctor when he began chuckling.
“I do enjoy it, you know.” He leaned on his cane while staring at the red mark on Sophia’s cheek. “Send them out without hats today,” he ordered George before looking back at Janette. “The tropical sun is harsh. It will burn your skin quickly and leave you scarred for life.” He looked up, past the brim of his hat. “There are enough hours of light left to ensure your night is not a restful one, but perhaps you will recall your manners tomorrow morning after sampling some of the pain I’ve promised you for disobedience.”
He lifted his cane and motioned them toward the lava flow with it. George reached for her upper arm, but Janette moved before he touched her.
“We’re going.”
She picked up the hem of her skirt and climbed onto the surface of the lava. It crunched beneath her shoe, and the scent of sulfur teased her nose.
“Don’t despair.”
“Are you comforting me or yourself?” Sophia asked as they climbed farther onto the rock.
Truthfully, Janette wasn’t sure. Fear gnawed at her, but it wasn’t worry about anything Dr. Nerval might do to her. What sickened her was what Darius might make of her departure. He was a noble man, one who wouldn’t forgive a slight, even for the most desperate circumstances. He’d always been clear on that matter, and she felt tears stinging her eyes as she moved out onto the lava flow.