Dreams Manifest (The Depths of Memory Book 2)

by Candice Bundy

  I did end up having a frank conversation with the girl and explained some things to her. Turns out she's been having dreams of the past and had the wherewithal to try and hunt down concrete proof with the Durmah in tow. Who knew her subconscious mind would be so tenacious? Then again, most of her dreams would be better described as nightmares, and much more accurate than I'd admit to her.

  Anyway, I believe I've persuaded her to keep her dreams and the scant information of her past to herself, and hopefully, I'll see if she's heeding my advice by the time we reach Raven's Call. Otherwise ... Well, I'll worry about that when we get there.

  Happy hunting,

  Graeber

  #END TRANSMISSION#

  Bauleel turned off the message terminal and slid it into her backpack.

  "How am I not surprised?" Bauleel whispered. She took a long drink of water from her canteen, deliberately using her left arm despite its painful protests. The crèche had done an excellent job of knitting the bones in her shoulder back together, but the bruised joint hadn't yet forgotten being shattered in Terem's attack back at Raven's Call temple.

  "Did you get your reply?" Rilte asked. He sat next to her on a felled pine tree on the outskirts of the forest surrounding Raven's Call. The heat of the midday sun beat down upon them, making Bauleel feel like every pore on her body was oozing sweat.

  "Yes, I did, and I'm afraid the person I'd like to have to help us is, how should I put it, otherwise engaged?" Bauleel explained.

  "Will that be a problem for us?" he asked. Bauleel could sense the anxiety pouring off of him, almost thicker than his sweat.

  Bauleel shrugged and then winced at the pain that shot through her back, hampering her awareness of his emotions. "Let's hope not. The good news is Raza has put out an alert to all Guardians calling for a comprehensive search for Terem, so we're not on our own."

  "I like the sound of that," he replied, smiling hopefully. "Does that mean we'll be teaming up with some actual Guardians then?"

  "I'm not planning on it," Bauleel replied.

  "But wouldn't that be smarter than running around after Terem alone?" Rilte asked.

  "I'm not alone. I've got you." Bauleel flashed him a smile, wincing quietly as her bruised flesh protested.

  Rilte rolled his eyes. "Honestly, like I'll do you any good? I have no combat training, and I somehow doubt that knowing how to run statistical models is going to help defeat Terem in the flesh."

  "You saved my life once already, Rilte. You're my good luck charm."

  "With all respect, Revered Matriarch, you need a lot more than good luck right now."

  She could sense his confusion, after all, how could a Technician and an ex-Matriarch take on Terem? Bauleel knew she would have to explain who she was, sooner or later, if he stayed with her and stayed alive long enough.

  Bauleel frowned. "Don't call me that. It's not who I am anymore."

  Rilte nodded. "Sorry. I guess I still don't understand what we're doing out here. Or should I say, what you're doing out here."

  Bauleel stood up, not yet ready to explain herself to him. "If you've had a chance to catch your breath, then what we should be doing is going."

  "I'm ready whenever you are," Rilte replied, standing up and shouldering the backpack and canteens.

  Bauleel started walking, with Raven's Call behind her and the forest looming ahead.

  "How are you holding up?" Rilte asked, walking alongside her.

  "Not too bad, considering. I am sorer than I ever thought possible in about every fiber of my being. If I'd been thinking any more clearly, I would have taken some painkillers from the lab before we left."

  "Perhaps when we get to where we're going, wherever that is, you can pick some up?" Rilte asked.

  "I'm planning on it," Bauleel replied.

  "By the way, where exactly are we going?" he asked.

  Bauleel smiled. "There's a Guardian outpost about four more miles north of the city. I figure we can stock up there and also see if there have been any sightings reported."

  "So the plan is to just walk into a Guardian outpost, take what we want, ask them how things are going, and then leave?" Rilte asked.

  "That's about it, more or less," Bauleel confirmed.

  "Then you'll be telling them you're Mat ..." he asked.

  Bauleel cut him off, holding up a finger in admonishment. "No. I won't, and you certainly won't." She shook her finger at him for emphasis.

  "Okay, then on whose authority will they open their doors and let us take anything we want?" Rilte asked.

  "We're Guardians," Bauleel replied.

  "Uh, right. Except we're not, you see. These outfits might convince the average citizen, but don't you think real Guardians will suspect something?" he asked.

  "Let me spell it out for you: I've impersonated a Guardian before today, on more than one occasion. Just do what I tell you to do, and they won't even raise an eyebrow," Bauleel explained.

  Rilte was silent for a moment, and Bauleel could feel him struggling with disbelief. It was a testament to his faith in her or his curiosity that he'd come this far.

  "I think I'm just beginning to appreciate how complicated a person you are," Rilte stated.

  Bauleel let out a laugh: he had no idea. "I'm flattered, really I am."

  Rilte smiled. "I can only hope you're flattered enough to add your past impersonating a Guardian to the story of how you acquired your Methuselah treatments."

  Right, her life extension treatments. Had she expected he'd let that finding go unexplained? Bauleel still hadn't decided whether she was going to honor her promise to Rilte to explain the treatments. "I'll consider it," she replied. "But for now the stories will have to wait, as we're almost at the outpost."

  "With your extensive background in Guardian impersonation, do you have any advice for me on what to expect?"

  "Don't speak unless spoken to. Like the Technicians, the Guardians don't keep to the standard Sept system. It's more of a military-style structure. Keeping your mouth shut will fit in with their expectations. Plus, it'll keep you out of trouble and match the story I'll be feeding them," Bauleel advised.

  "Which is?" he asked.

  "You'll know when you hear it," Bauleel replied with a wink. "But from here out keep your mouth shut."

  "Yes ma'am," Rilte replied.

  Bauleel found the narrow road which led upwards to the outpost, located on the top of a small mesa. The grade of the path was steep, and soon they were both panting from the exertion. A good half-hour later they reached the top of the mesa, encountering no other traffic along the way. A high wall stood as an added protection to the outpost, with one single doorlock-accessible gate allowing entrance into and out of the compound.

  The gate stood half open, doorlock blinking red.

  "How does this not fill me with confidence?" Bauleel said. Rilte looked back at her, nervous tension radiating from him. Bauleel pushed the gate open, walked into the compound and surveyed the area. Rilte followed close behind. She motioned for him to shut the gate behind them.

  Everything appeared normal at first glance. The flat top was devoid of all trees and undergrowth, allowing space for not only the square outpost structure but also stables and training yards. Was a natural occurrence, or did the Guardians prefer to keep the area clear as a safety measure? Bauleel didn't know for sure. The outpost stood a full four stories tall, with windows only on the top two floors. She remembered the view from the top being awe-inspiring as well as practical. The picture was missing one essential element.

  "Where is everybody?" Bauleel asked, stopping to catch her breath.

  "Am I supposed to answer that, or keep my mouth shut?"

  "Don't be a smart-ass," Bauleel sniped. "This is bad. Normally there are a couple Guardians' on sentinel on the roof, and another two or three walking the perimeter fence."

  "Could they be in a staff meeting?" Rilte asked.

  Bauleel stared at him blankly for a moment. "This isn't a Technician's Guildha
ll. Even when there are meetings, there are those who stand sentinel at their posts."

  "All right," Rilte replied. "So what should we do?"

  "We need to search the premises. Be alert for any signs of movement," Bauleel advised, pulling the gun out of her backpack.

  "You wouldn't happen to have a second one of those handy, would you?" he asked.

  "Sure," Bauleel replied. "Wait a sec; do you even know how to use a blaster?"

  "No, but I'd still prefer having one. Where is it?" Rilte asked.

  "Inside the outpost storeroom, located in the basement of the main structure," Bauleel replied.

  "Doesn't do me a lot of good then, does it?" Rilte replied.

  "And you'd be so much better off with a weapon you don't know how to use, right? For now, keep quiet and stay behind me," Bauleel ordered.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Bauleel rolled her eyes at him, and then started out her search by sweeping the perimeter of the compound in a clockwise pattern. The training yards looked empty; dummies and targets were lonely fixtures punctuating the space. They passed a weapons rack filled with wooden swords and staves. Nothing appeared to be missing.

  Rilte pulled a dark wooden staff of his height from the rack. "If it's all right with you, I'll hang onto this. I've spent some time training with these before, mostly agility and speed exercises, but I like the feel of them."

  "Sure."

  They continued around the compound to the rear of the stables. Bauleel slowly opened the back door. A high-pitched creak echoed up to the rafters, unsettling a group of barn owls and drawing admonishing squawks for disturbing their sleep. Bauleel walked through the barn with Rilte close on her heels checking every stall, but there were no horses. In fact, so far the only sign of life were the grousing barn-owls.

  "Even the horses are gone," Bauleel whispered. She focused her awareness, trying to pick up any uncharacteristic scent, but the place smelled only of horse, birds, and dung.

  "From the smell, they haven't been gone long," Rilte replied, pointing to muck in the back of the closest stall.

  "Agreed, and yet they left behind their bridles and saddles, so it appears they weren't ridden out. This isn't right. Any self-respecting Hall Master would keep a cleaner stable than this. Let's check out the outpost itself." They exited via the stable's front door, which was standing wide open.

  They approached the Guardian Guild Hall's closed front door. Bauleel raised her hand to the doorlock and paused. By touching this, her handprint and access would be logged. Anyone in the Core who might be looking for her and had placed a watch on her access codes would know her location within mere moments. Bauleel had to remind herself that if the Core wanted to find her, with the resources they had at their command, they would. She shook off this horrible thought and pressed her hand to the doorlock. Within seconds it flashed a green sensor light, and the door swung open.

  A light breeze blew out through the door, carrying with it the thick smell of blood.

  "Shit," Bauleel muttered under her breath. She stepped away from the doorway, pushing Rilte back against the outpost wall next to her.

  "What's wrong?" Rilte asked.

  Bauleel dug in her vest, locating the locator beacon hidden deep in a concealed pocket. She pulled it out and input the codes for 'multiple men down; approach with caution' and then activated the beacon.

  "What's that for?" Rilte asked.

  "It's a locator beacon. I just sent out the alert for casualties."

  "What did you see in there?"

  "It's not what I saw. It's what I smelled."

  Rilte drew in a deep breath of air. "Are you sure?"

  Bauleel just stared at him, raising her left eyebrow even though it hurt to do so.

  "Okay, so who'll pick up on that beacon?"

  "Any Guardians in the vicinity who aren't otherwise coping with emergency situations will come here without delay. That could be minutes or hours, it's hard to say for sure. Most likely the latter, because anyone stationed here would have put up an alarm before now. All of the Guardian Sept Halls have receivers, so the closest Hall will organize a rescue party."

  "How does this stick with your 'stay out of trouble' plan?"

  "Guardians are dead. Something killed them, and my guess is Terem did it. If there are survivors, we have to help them. Trying to hide my location from Natre and the others is a fool's errand at best anyway."

  Rilte's face paled. "If it was Terem, how do we know he's not still here?"

  "By the moons, I've gone completely daft!" Bauleel replied. She would have slapped her hand against her bruised forehead, but Rilte managed to block her motion with his hand on her wrist.

  For a moment she was swept up in his emotions. Fear for his safety, concern for hers, anxiety over what lay hidden within the outpost's walls, disbelief over the entire situation, curiosity about who she was, guilt over the bruises on her face, the memory of finding her lying, beaten beyond recognition in a pool of blood and the deep, almost physical pain he'd felt as he picked up her broken body and believed her dead ...

  Bauleel pushed his hand away brusquely, unwilling to digest more of Rilte's psyche. She kept her eyes diverted as she took a deep breath, searching through her backpack.

  "Are you all right? For a moment there I thought you were about to pass out," Rilte said.

  "No, no, I'm just not used to thinking like a Guardian." Bauleel pulled the scanner out of her backpack and turned it on.

  "What's that?" Rilte asked.

  "It's a life form scanner," Bauleel explained while calibrating the device. "It can be calibrated to detect a variety of things, based on creature size, movement, humans versus non-humans, you name it. It also overlays topographic maps and building structures, making it easier to locate whatever you're scanning for."

  "So you're saying all Guardians carry those, or is it something you have special access to because of your position?"

  "All Guardians have these." Bauleel had the device scanning for all life signs of any kind. She waited impatiently for the results, her eyes darting back to the outpost's open door.

  "That must be expensive."

  "The handheld units are relatively cheap. It's the network of expensive satellite orbiters that do the real work. These devices access their data core." A red blip appeared on the scanner's screen. "I've got something. One target with faint life signs, located on the roof." Bauleel walked into the dark doorway and strode down an unlit hallway. She tried the light switch, but no lights came on. Either the lights themselves were broken, or the power was out. She had no way of knowing for sure.

  "Wait!" Rilte hoarsely whispered, trailing after her. "Are you sure it's safe?"

  "No, I'm not. That's kind of the point." Bauleel stopped and turned to meet his gaze, trying to contain her irritation. "You're welcome to stay here if you'd like."

  Rilte frowned. "With all due respect, I think we should both wait until a real Guardian arrives to handle the situation."

  "Fine. You stay here and escort the Guardians up to the roof when they arrive. It could be days. I'm going to go and make sure that their one survivor is still alive when they get here." Bauleel turned and headed back down the dark hallway, using the scanner's display to provide enough light to see by. The stench of decaying blood was overwhelming to her keen senses.

  Within a few steps, Rilte was hot on her heels. Bauleel guessed he either didn't want to wait alone or wasn't comfortable allowing her to go alone. She didn't care either way. Having him close by would make it easier for her to protect him. But must he argue with her about everything?

  They reached the stairwell at the back of the building, and Bauleel took a step into something gooey and black by the light of the scanner. Undeterred, she advanced up the stairwell, not investigating further what the substance was.

  "Ugh, what's that?" Rilte asked.

  "Dried, or more specifically, coagulating blood. Watch your step. It's still sticky in spots."

  Rilte groaned but
heeded her advice. Each step was covered in the sticky, smelly substance. They reached the first landing, which led to the next flight of stairs as well as providing access to a room full of couches and tables off to their right. Light streamed in through the second story windows broken by sporadically illuminated patches of carmine. Generally, Bauleel would have welcomed the light, except it revealed a cruel story painted upon the walls, ceiling, floor, and furniture.

  Bauleel remembered back to her days of studying both medicine and mathematics. There was what, five, six quarts of blood in the human body? This room was about fifteen by thirty feet, with walls ten feet high. That would mean around 1,800 square feet in total, Bauleel calculated, including the ceiling and floor.

  "Based on the amount of blood covering, well everything, I'd have to guess at least four people died here," Bauleel stated. "Most of the floor is dry, with isolated puddles remaining tacky." She pressed a finger against a couch cushion, thick, wet blood coating her skin. "These cushions are sopping wet, I can't begin to calculate how much has been absorbed within their fibers. No, there had to be more than four killed here."

  "This looks just like the Technician's Guild did after Terem was done with us."

  Bauleel remembered all too well. "Including the missing bodies. I wonder how many ..." Bauleel began, unable to finish the question.

  "I'm sure the Guardians have records of who was stationed here, so figuring out who's missing shouldn't be too difficult?"

  The stench was overwhelming. Not for the first time Bauleel wished she could dull her senses on command. "True. Let's keep going."

  Bauleel continued up the stairs. She didn't stop at either of the next two landings, preferring to just scan the rooms as they passed. Each was the same: blood covering everything, yet no bodies. "What did he do with them?" she muttered to herself.

  "We never found the remains of those killed at the labs," Rilte replied.

  Bauleel didn't want to think of what that might mean, particularly since she had a pretty good idea of what Terem had done with them.