“Ignoring you,” she asked, seeing no one around her. Was she losing her lucidity?
You are approaching the Golden Island, the voice said, seemingly coming from everywhere. It held an undulation to it like the rolling waves breaking on the beach.
“Yes, so I am,” she said, apathetically. Why didn’t she care where she was going? She should, but she didn’t. Maybe she didn’t because, now, she was content walking the white stone steps up to Castle Redfox, the moss-laden stone ruin peaking above the summit. “And who are you?”
I am Lairgor and the Sea Roar.
“Lairgor and the Sea Roar? How can you be two things at once?” Suddenly, she realized her imagined scenery had vanished, blackness engulfing her again. She was so close to the summit too. She tried blinking it all back to existence, but that failed. She tried again, imagining herself shutting her eyes tightly and then reopening them. But nothing. Frustration mounted as she sensed her lucidity fading. —If Eventide has chosen you as her Champion, know that I am one of her brethren and I’ll trust you with this.
Eventide’s Champion? No, that couldn’t be right. The Veiled Goddess already had a Champion, the One-Night, the old woman who prayed before the Veiled Goddess night and day and guided the Coming Shadows with her visions.
A dim gray light appeared in the blackness and soon stretched around her. Dread filled her. She expected a return to her usual dreams —her usual nightmares. She tried threshing her real limbs to wake herself up before the nightmare materialized. Never worked before, but panic gripped her anyway.
“Hold her down,” came a muffled voice. Maybe someone was with her out in the waking world? She tried calling out, but her mouth wouldn’t move. Exhaustion mingled with terror.
Please stay. Please watch. Please help. Please help? No nightmare before had ever pleaded with her. White Walls rippled into existence out of the dim grayness. I must show you a very dangerous man. He wants to finish his master’s goal and destroy me. Will you stay?
“She’s calm now,” came that same muffled voice again, but louder. Realizing she was waking, she became disappointment. A dangerous man? A plea for help? Who was Lairgor? Brethren of the Veiled Goddess? Maybe this wasn’t a dream. Maybe she was having a vision; a vision the Shadows might need. She had to stay. It could mean waking the Goddess and saving her people.
“Yes, I’ll stay,” she decided, relaxing back into her dream. Now a strange smooth floor materialized and a roof, windows too. He has the smell of the traitor on him, and I believe he has come for my life.
“Your life? Who are you?”
I was foolish splitting myself but successful. Only one of me has escaped Blekengor’s sword, the other of me is anchored within the Sea Roar. I’ve become so disjointed, my mind wonders easily.
“One of ‘me’?”
The room finally came into focus and it had two windows, both overlooking a city of smoke, machine and metal. She recognized it, Siga’s Sapphire City on the Golden Island. But her attention drew back inside the room. There, she found a bed and someone, a man, laying on it. He turned over to his side, then to his other side, and then he threw off his blankets. He tossed his pillow at the window, seemingly very upset.
I sense you know this man.
“No…no. I…don’t.”
The man nestled his face into his elbow, obscuring his features while uttering profanities. “Josie, you stupid woman,” he sputtered. “Why do you have to be so damn self-righteous,” he sputtered. “Stupid. So, stupid. If you wanna get yourself killed at least have the decency of letting the living sleep in peace!”
Roe sighed or whatever it was in this dreamworld. She did know him, but it wasn’t his face she recognized. She never saw what he looked like under his stupid guises, but his voice she did recognized, that annoying mixture of whining self-pity and sarcastic self-deprecating pride. So he was the dangerous man? This wasn’t some mystical vision; this was a joke. Still better than her nightmares, though. “Yes, I know him. Ticktock, Broke Clock Mendevoch.”
You know him, but I sense no fear in you.
“He’s…what did he do now?”
You shouldn’t underestimate an agent of Blekengor.
“No, I don’t. I believe you. He’s a danger, alright, to himself and everyone around him.”
Mend cursed, fumbling out of bed only to slump to the ground. He cursed again, crawling on the floor to his pillow by the window. Grabbing it, he crawled back and climbed into bed. He then laid the pillow on his face. “Mend,” he shouted. “By the power of the Almighty, I command you! Sleep! …Now …Now… Ah,…now!”
I do not understand. Why would Blekengor chose him? I can’t account of this. Bring him to me then. Seek me out on the island. I will make myself ready if he is dangerous.
“Seek out Lairgor or the Sea Roar?”
Yes. Ask for Mister Blue.
***
Upon returning from his early morning jog, Ed found Glen again at his door again, this time empty handed but with a graver face than ever. Or was he sicker? He stood slowly, grabbing his knees for support and waited for Ed to reach him. At least he didn’t run after him this time.
“Ed, I need to talk to you,” Glen said in a whisper.
“Come on in.” Ed led him inside where Glen promptly took the nearest seat while Ed fetched himself a cup of water.
“Water?”
“No,” Glen said, absent his usual wit. Something was off, Ed knew.
After drinking down the water, Ed leaned his back against the newly repaired wall. Glen didn’t seem to notice, his gaze lost in his own thoughts. “What can I do for you?”
Glen shot his eyes on Ed as if he startled him. “I’m going to ask you something I didn’t want to before,” Glen said.
Ed jerked himself from the wall. “What is it? I’ll answer.”
Glen locked eyes with Ed and swallowed before asking, “did you let Araa go?”
“No,” Ed said like a reflex. Glen relaxed into his seat, but the tension in his face remained.
“Ed, I know what that girl meant to you,” he continued. “I know her exposure brought up what happened to you. Brought up things about Ninn. Please. I’m not trying to get you into trouble here, but I need to know. …Did you let her go?”
“I follow orders,” Ed said, his voice hardening.
Glen sighed heavily. “Things aren’t well, my friend,” he said with a wet cough.
“Glen, you’re not looking well yourself.”
“I’ll sleep when this is all over,” he said, taking out a white handkerchief and wiping his mouth. “They found Loyt’s body.”
“They did? Where?”
“And they found the team tracking him and Araa.”
“They found the team? What—"
Glen sprung from his seat, winching from some pain. “They were taken out, Ed,” he said, pacing in a circle. “All of them…,” Glen then stopped, opened his hands and starred at them. “Our follow-up team never saw anything like it. It was as if as pack lions attacked them.” Glen’s eye darted from hand to hand, his pupils dilated, and the muscles around his eyes twitched. He was remembering something, Ed realized. “Bones crushed by enormous teeth,” he added with a growing frown of disgust. “And puncture wounds the size of my arm, Ed. Hardly anything was left…they were eaten—”
Ed grabbed Glen’s shoulder and shook him back to the present. “Infected wildlife?”
Glen closed his eyes and rubbed the tension in them. “No, not the Chills. Last report had them following Araa and Loyt’s trail east outside of Sat’r when they came upon riders in gray garb assaulting a caravan. We think those gray riders got to our guys and fed them to the wildlife. Bad timing, very, very bad timing. On the follow up, their bodies were found further east in the old part of Kar’d’s Forest by the Lighthouse…and so was Loyt’s body about a mile away on the beachhead. He had drowned…with a paralyzing drug in him.” Glen shot a hard stare on Ed. “We don’t believe the two are connected…but ther
e was no sign of our little girl.”
“Maybe those gray riders killed Loyt too.”
“And let Araa go,” Glen said with a dismissive wave of his arm. “Why would they do that? No. Two different culprits are involved here.”
“You know she’s sick,” Ed reminded him. “She must have lashed out at Loyt. An insanity episode. She must be still trying to get home. Or maybe those riders poisoned Loyt and he made as far as the sea and Araa got away—”
“You’re missing the goddamn point,” Glen shouted, curling his lips. Ed almost flinched seeing his friend burrow into him with his sickly bloodshot eyes. “Someone had to be at the shore waiting for her, Ed,” he said, slapping one hand into the other to beat of his words. “What was the point of going east to some random shore if they didn’t have a way of crossing the damn ocean. No voyage was booked to her island anywhere inside the princedom, and they certainly wouldn’t have survived the Knives Sea in a row boat. No. Someone was already there to pick her up and kill Loyt. There are too many damn coincidences to ignore!” No, that couldn’t be. Araa couldn’t have planned all that. She got herself exposed; she was barely able to walk. It was Ed’s idea to let her go in the first place! She wouldn’t have known.
Ed’s breathing quickened; he hid his trembling hands, still holding the cup, behind his back. “She drowned,” Ed suggested, though it sounded more like a hope.
“Ed.” Glen closed his eyes, pitching the bridge of his nose. “We checked the girl’s home island. Araa was already there, long buried, dead for ten years.”
The cup shattered on the floor. Like someone had landed a blow to his stomach, Ed felt the air gush out of him with a wave of nausea threatening to overcome him. “That’s…impossible…,” he wheezed out. “Araa…” tricked me.
Glen turned his back. “Ed,” he began again, his voice sympathetic. “We can’t find Miss Summers or Mister Winters. We don’t know how far this goes. I’m sorry. I have no choice in this. Things are close to spiraling out of control.” Then he took in a deep breath before saying, “I have to place you under house arrest—”
“What for,” Ed held himself from shouting. He balled up his fists so tightly he felt nail digging into skin and warmth pooling inside his palms. The distraction helped keep the rising terror at bay. “Glen, you know where my loyalties—”
“I said I have no choice,” Glen roared before breathing heavily as if winded. “Everyone else’s stories check out. Predt. Captain Olsen. Your story still has issues I’m trying to work out. I’m sorry.”
“Are you saying I lied to you?”
“You lied to me once already,” Glen whispered.
“I never lied—”
“I asked you why Doctor Alexander was so upset after you visited him the night Araa was exposed.”
Ed flinched his eyes shut. “You…looked into that?”
“Yes, I did.”
“You’re not supposed to know. Central Office can’t know. There can’t be a record of it.”
“Things have gone a bit beyond that, Ed.”
“Then you know I had no choice. I must follow a General Order. I did the right thing, Glen.” And by ‘thing’ he meant letting Araa go, and he was beginning to believe Glen at least suspected it too.
“Damn it, Ed. No one gives a damn about orders or what’s morally right! We only care if we win. What the hell do you think we’re doing here carving up the body of a god. Damn it all to hell.” Glen punched the door frame before relaxing his body up against it. Breathing heavily, he whispered, “I…I didn’t say this, but…you should have let her die with the doctor.”
Ed couldn’t hold the terror back anymore as quick waves of rising hairs swam across his body. His heart pounded; head throbbed; his vision narrowed. Please listen! You can’t stay here anymore. You’re in danger. Ragnarok is poised to break through. He must be preparing a body. You have to find it. I don’t know if anyone else survived that butcher, but you must prepare your people without me. Fool! Stop resisting me and do something!
Ed slid into the nearest seat before his knees gave out. “Then…then I’m…”
“You…know how much this city’s secret means. They have to find someone to blame,” Glen said, somberly. “I’ve extended the search for the girl to the whole Princedom and off shore too. I’ll do my best, but please, for Almighty’s sake: do and say nothing.”
Glen left as Ed lowered his head between his knees and allowed the ocean of terror to engulf him.
23
Mend on the Mend, Araa’s Ordeal, and Ed’s Trials
“Your Majesty Iselia, it’s confirmed. Emperor Ladress’s latest construction is a massive earthwork in the Sands’ western province of Kokrerk, over fifty kilometers northeast of the nearest city, Rouge Sands.”
“That far out? Describe it.”
“A hollowed out hole, a hundred meters across, at least thirty meters deep, oval in shape with the major axis pointing northwest, southeast—
“Northwest? That would point it toward the northern end of the Islanders, wouldn’t it?”
“And the eastern Southern Snows. Our engineers believe they plan to install a cannon, but the size it must be for such a foundation, no material we know can support such firepower—”
“Thank you, but that doesn’t matter. We have our answer, but not unexpected. Somehow Lairgor both lived and his Sea Roar Shard is awake. He has chosen his Champion and chosen his side, slavery.”
“Don’t we need him for our ascension?”
“It would have helped. I am told Lairgor is the most intelligent of the eight, but our trust must always be in Hyliagor the King-Maker and in me, his Champion. Send word to the One-King. Hyliagor will join him now. Battle lines are finally being drawn, but what will the other four do?”
“But Your Majesty… the One-King, if what you said is true, he’s a god-killer. He killed Hyliagor in the flesh eighty years ago.”
“Is that fear I sense in you, Sir Warborne?
“…”
“Do you know why I gave you that name?”
“If I should fall, another can take up my office without interruption.”
“Functionally, you’re right, but the correct answer is that names hold power in themselves. They convey ideas, world views, and stir emotions. What emotion do I wish your name to convey?”
“If the One-King betrays us, we will be ready.”
“That won’t be necessary, but our readiness maybe. If the gods do go to war with each other, the very foundations of Gen Shemver will shake.”
-King-Maker Queen Iselia Monteroso the Prophetess and Sir Warborne, a Knight of the Ascension.
Mend spent another night staring listlessly out his window, watching the city glow blend into the morning light as he thought things through, always thinking things through, and coming up with the same conclusion: Josie was a bitch. After her lovely threat to slice off his neck, she hadn’t spoken to him for the rest of the day yesterday. Well, technically, she had, but she laid that ‘Nurse Lora’ persona on him so thick he was beginning to believe someone had hypnotized her. No luck of that happening, her sadistic fetish ran too deeply.
And he knew why she ignored him. She obviously felt she couldn’t trust him with anything but her acting. Smart move really, because Mend was tired of caring whether Cyne was going starve her to death or slowly roast her over a fire. Roasting, hopefully, to purify the demons inside her. Either way, it was only a matter of time before he was out of here. As soon as he was well enough, Cyne and Sera would come back, give him a half a pound of gold for his troubles, her letter to her brother, and escort him off the island where he would finally be able to say good-bye to this whole damn fiasco. Roach would be angry with him, but nothing new there. He still had that memory of the Beast from Sig’s mind, but who knows how old that memory was. Roach’s ties with Prince Landrie might weaken. But really, send one man into the heart of the Empire’s powerhouse? Even the Shadows sent two people, Josie and Roe.
A
knock came at the door. “Good morning, Glen,” said the lilting voice of Josie. She would be continuing her game today too, it seemed. “Is it alright if I enter?”
Mend ignored her, but she entered anyway. He closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. She caught him before pretending to be sleeping and it angered her. Maybe he’d get the same reaction out of her this time too.
But no. She went about her usual routine, walking to each of the windows, opening them and enjoying the morning breeze all while humming that same torturous lullaby. Eventually, her dark presence loomed beside Mend’s bed. He felt her hand on his arm, checking his pulse.
“And how is our guest today?”
“Uh, fine, Josie.”
“Josie?” She placed her hand on his forehead. “No fever. I’ll have to note this for the doctor.”
Mend rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Lora.”
Her face lit up like a full moon. “Oh you! Stop teasing me,” she squealed, lightly touching his arm with her fingers. “Did you sleep well,” she asked, before running behind him to mix his medicine of pure lava. Mend fought bile from rising in his throat. She was really putting on the show for him.
“No, I didn’t,” he grumbled.
“Oh you will tonight,” she answered cheerfully. “You’ll be having your exercises today. Medic Pergice should be up in a few hours after breakfast.”
“Pergice?”
“Yes, you’ve met him before.” She returned with that blueberry poison in her hand.
Call of the Chosen- Broken Kingdoms Page 55