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Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series

Page 60

by Nicholas C. Rossis


  “That’s—” David started to say, but Sol raised her hand to stop him.

  “In the second case, the monsters can have their forests and do what they like with it. It’s of no concern to Anthea.” She stopped pacing and turned to face them. “Either way, why should I help you?”

  “Because they’re monsters,” David protested. “They’re not even human. How can you let them kill people and do nothing?”

  “Because humans are just as deadly as monsters,” Gella whispered, the soldier in her understanding Sol’s cold logic. They are butchers.

  David shot up and leaned on the chair to steady himself. “We fight our battles one by one. Fight today’s battle, not tomorrow’s!”

  “David—” Gella started.

  “What about the First?” he shouted, turning to Sol. “You have to help them. They helped Anthea during your war with the Capital.”

  Sol nodded, lost in thought. “Some tribes did, yes. We owe them our help.” She sat back down and tapped the armrest with her fingers. “I can spare one hundred men and two ships to take you anywhere you wish.”

  “That’s not nearly—” David started, but Gella interrupted him.

  “That’s generous enough,” she said. “Where could we find more men?”

  Sol considered the question for a moment. “I hear you’re from Scorpio?” she asked in the end.

  Gella tried to hide her surprise. “How did you—”

  “Not important,” Sol said, raising her hand to stop her. “Can you go back?”

  “I was accused of stealing,” Gella said through clenched teeth. “No.”

  “Was it true?” Sol insisted.

  “No,” Gella said, her face flushing.

  “Good. Scorpio wouldn’t dare harm an envoy, even the Butcher herself. You could go as Anthea’s ambassador, asking for soldiers to fight Altman. For each soldier they send, I will release two of ours to you. But there is a price. Only David can go. Once you’re back, you will start training my men.”

  “I haven’t agreed yet,” Gella reminded her.

  Again, the playful sparkle shone on Sol’s eyes. “But you will. You have much to atone for, and you don’t want to be remembered for something you didn’t do.”

  Gella tried to decide whether she admired or hated Sol’s confidence. “What about David?” she said to change the subject.

  Sol shrugged. “He’s free to join you.”

  “Why would he?” Gella said. “A hundred men won’t save the First.”

  “Still,” David said. “I have to go.”

  Gella stared at him bug-eyed. “Why? You want to die?”

  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, lost in thought. “There is another army waiting there. One that’s been sleeping for a long time.”

  The women exchanged a surprised glance. “What army?”

  “I have to see the Old Woman.” They waited for him to continue, but he said nothing.

  “Don’t go,” Gella finally said. “Not yet, anyway. Come with me to Scorpio. You may need Sol’s men to survive the trip.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Very well. I’ll come with you first, then I’ll return east.”

  Malekshei

  Annoush

  Annoush groaned, not so much in pain, but from the immense discomfort. His insides on fire, he pushed away Tie’s hand as she pressed a fresh compress against his forehead. She ignored his whimpers. After a moment, he rolled over, letting out a cry of pain when he bumped his hand on the bed’s wooden frame. Despite the thick gauze covering his wrist, fiery pain shot through his body, like lava flowing through every throbbing vein.

  Tie grimaced in sympathetic pain and pushed her fingers through his mangled hair, pity filling her eyes. “This is not what I wanted for you,” she whispered.

  He made an attempt at a smile. “It’s okay.” He forced himself to ignore the poison flowing through his body and relax his tense muscles.

  “Drink this.” Tie held his head up to offer him a cup filled with a warm liquid. It smelled of basil, pepper and elderberry. He took a sip, oblivious of any flavour. His heart raced, sending another shiver to run up and down his body and he clutched himself, then rolled back under the thick blanket.

  The door creaked opened. “How is he?” he heard Moirah’s soft voice. Tie shook her head, deep lines of worry creasing her brow.

  “Valentiner asked to see him,” Moirah continued. “Can she come in?”

  Tie shot him an inquisitive look. He nodded, and a moment later the little girl slipped to his side, a large bag on her shoulder. “Will you leave us a moment?” she asked.

  “It’s okay,” Annoush lied to Tie. “Go.” She left the room reluctantly, leaving them alone.

  Valentiner stared at him until the door closed behind her. “My friends say you’re dying.”

  He grinned through clenched teeth. “Then it must be true.”

  “They also say you can help.”

  Annoush chortled. “I don’t think I’m much use to anyone, little one. Go away.”

  “Parad says you are.”

  He stared at her through bloodshot eyes. “Parad said that?” Her sincere eyes met his gaze as she nodded. Annoush drew a deep breath to clear his head. “What does he want me to do?”

  “Lucas has come up with a plan.”

  He fought to stop his teeth from chattering long enough to answer. “Lucas’s dead.”

  “No one really dies, silly,” she said and giggled as if he had said the funniest thing. “Tomorrow we leave. But Parad says you won’t make it. The poison in your veins will kill you.”

  “He wants me to stay here.” His lips parted in a bitter grin. “And do what? I’m useless.”

  She opened the bag to produce a cube, made from a rough, charcoal metal. “Lehmor gave me this.” She removed the bear claw necklace that hung around her neck, almost reaching her scrawny legs. She inserted it into a small opening and pushed. Staring at something behind Annoush, she nodded in impatient agreement as one of the cube’s sides clicked open. She rotated the side, pushing it back in after half a revolution. Glowing red streaks covered the cube, pulsing softly in an increasing frequency. “This is what he wants you to do.”

  Annoush gaped at the glowing cube. A pulsating humming filled the room. He grabbed the device with his left hand and placed it on his chest. The humming became more urgent and he swallowed, hard. “Shouldn’t you turn it off now?”

  Without a word, Valentiner pushed the claw again and back-tracked her movements. The red glow slowed down before flickering out. “Will you do it?”

  So, this is it. If I say yes, I’ll be signing my own death warrant. But what other choice was there? Perhaps he could make a deal with Pratin. He had made Lehmor’s arm grow back; perhaps he could save him. More likely, you’ll be dead when the first Fallen bursts through that door. He had spent the first half of his life running away from danger, a coward. The next half, replacing a man who could not be replaced.

  His head cleared, like dark clouds suddenly parting to reveal a bright sun, and it hit him: this was his moment. The moment all his life had been leading to. He was dying. There was no escaping that fate. The knowledge no longer scared him. His mind rushed to the one time he had seen a play. Tie had taken him to the theatre shortly after rescuing him from the Slums. He could no longer remember the name of the playwright or the play, but words rang in his head as if the actor stood right in front of him.

  All the world's a stage,

  And all the men and women merely players.

  They have their exits and their entrances,

  And one man in his time plays many parts.

  He, too, was an actor in a play. Only his part was over – or would be shortly. He had no desire to remain on the stage. All he wanted was a chance to exit the scene in a way of his choosing.

  Even the pain in his veins subsided as he made his decision. “I’ll take as many of them as I can with me. I’ll wait until they’re all in the courty
ard. Then…” His voice trailed off for a moment. “Help me hide it.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want Mother to see it.”

  “She’ll know. We can’t take you with us,” she said as she placed the cube back into the bag.

  He took her hand, surprised at how cool it felt under his feverish fingers. “Don’t be afraid.”

  “They say the same thing,” she murmured.

  “But?”

  She avoided his gaze. “I miss my mommy,” she said after a moment of silence.

  A frown crossed his forehead. He had never met his mother, Tie being the closest thing to a mother he had ever had. “You’ll see her again.”

  She shook a white strand from her face. “I know. But right now, I miss her.”

  He thunked his head back onto the hay mattress. “How are you leaving, anyway?”

  “I told you, Lucas has a plan.” She shoved the bag under the bed, then placed the bear claw necklace around his neck. “Parad says he’s proud of you.”

  Annoush’s fingers clutched the yellowed claw. He rolled over again, this time to hide the smile on his face.

  Chamber of Justice, the Capital

  Angel

  Some nights Angel found it hard to fall asleep. The sides of her tiny cell seemed to bear down on her, threatening to crush her. It had been getting worse since Altman’s ultimatum. Her gaze travelled to a torch on the wall that illuminated the rough, stone walls. The darkness surrounding them told her they still had hours until dawn, but she still felt restless.

  Xhi had kept her company through the night, playing a game of cards with her. The cards lay on a small table, just outside her cell. “Been over a week,” he said casually, throwing a card onto the wooden surface.

  She frowned. “A week?” Her hand reached through the iron bars to flip the card over.

  “Since Master Altman asked you to choose.”

  A smile crawled on her face, despite herself. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  He formed a small fan on the table with his cards. “You made up your mind?”

  “He’s a monster. How can I marry him?” She threw her cards onto the pile.

  He picked up the discarded cards and folded them into the pack. “You know what will happen to you, then?”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “I don’t care!”

  “Miss Angel,” he started, then the words caught. She examined him, surprised by his tone, and waited for him to continue. He shot a glance into the empty cell before leaning closer. “Angel, you need to leave.”

  The seriousness in his voice caught her off guard, then she laughed her surprise. She grabbed the iron bars and shook them. “And I suppose you can help me?”

  He placed a finger on his lips before continuing. “Our new ruler has a fondness for wine. Last night he got drunk. Real drunk. A Guardian heard him talking to himself. He shot Cyrus and blamed you.”

  Her lips twitched in a sad smile. “Now you believe me?”

  “I always did.”

  “Then what changed?”

  He examined the pack of cards in his hands and placed them on the table. “This morning, he killed the Guardian.”

  Her jaw slackened. “How do you know all this?”

  “A jailor is the last man people see. They need to talk before they die.”

  “That makes you a danger to him,” she realised.

  “Tomorrow, I could be in that cell,” he agreed. “Maybe we’ll share it. Maybe you’ll already be gone.”

  She shook her head in understanding. The noose is tightening around both our necks. “What are you suggesting?”

  “A jailor knows all the escape routes. We have to.”

  Her eyes widened in realisation. “You were the one who helped Tie and Sam escape!”

  The flicker of a smile passed his lips, but he said nothing.

  She jumped to her feet to pace the tiny cell. “When?”

  “No time like the present.”

  Her heart thumped in her chest as her breath quickened. “Where?”

  He flashed her a wide grin. “Far away.”

  She froze in her tracks. “I can’t go. Not until I see my brother.”

  The grin disappeared from his face. “No!”

  “I have to.”

  “Too risky.”

  She rubbed her thumb and index finger together. “My brother will rule again. He’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Money’s worthless to a corpse.”

  “Thank you,” she said and pulled him against the bars to plant a soft kiss on his unshaven cheek.

  “You gonna get us killed!”

  “Just one minute,” she promised. “Then we’re gone.”

  He sighed his surrender and fished out a key from his pocket to unlock the door. When inside the room, he removed the shackles tethering her to the wall. “We must hurry.”

  He took her hand and led her to the thick wooden door leading outside. It creaked open. Xhi craned his head to peek outside, then pulled her after him. They shot down a dark corridor, lit only by the occasional torch.

  “Isn’t the exit up the stairs?” she whispered as they passed a stairwell.

  “Yeah. The guards, too.”

  She shut her mouth and let him drag her behind him. He stopped so abruptly that she bumped against him. “Why did we stop?”

  He ignored her and pushed a stone on the wall. Clank! A thin opening revealed itself, invisible in the shadow cast by two columns. He shoved her inside. “Come!”

  A dim, ambient light lit up and they fled down a narrow passageway. A mouldy smell replaced the sweltering stench of smoke from the torches. How is this place lit? “The Chamber’s crawling with passages,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Few know about ‘em. This one leads to your brother.”

  Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Cyrus. “Take me there.”

  An annoyed groan escaped his lips. “It’s what I’m doing, innit?”

  Various paths crossed theirs. They hurried past them. Frantic thoughts crossed her mind. Where are we? I hope he knows his way! How long have we been walking? Is it dawn yet?

  Finally, he cocked his head like a dog sniffing the air and stopped. “We’re here.”

  Cyrus! “I must see him.”

  “You will,” he growled. “But let’s not lose our heads.” He motioned her to stay back, then slid aside a thin sliver of the wall and pushed his head against it to look through the narrow eyehole. “Okay, let’s do this,” he murmured, mostly to himself. He pushed a lever and part of the wall clicked open. He let out a deep breath, then shot forward into a vast, empty space covered in darkness.

  “Where—” His eyes widened as he shot a finger to her lips to stop her. The only light in the hall came from a raised platform at its centre. When her eyes fell on it, she brought a hand to her lips to stifle her gasp. Her brother lay upright inside an alcove that covered his body up to the chest, surrounded by strange machines. Flickering lights covered their surface, illuminating Cyrus’s head. His long hair had been shaved off, and an ugly, round scar covered the top of his head. A lanky man lay slumped on a chair before him, his eyes closed, as if sleeping. An unfamiliar, pungent smell permeated the vast room, originating from the equipment around the bed.

  “There he is. Can we go now?” Xhi whispered.

  She ignored his question and broke free with a jerk of her wrist. Keeping the wall behind her back, she slithered across the room. I have to get closer! She stopped when she reached a darkened alcove behind the man.

  Her eyes fixed on her brother’s immobile body while her mind raced back and forth, from their last moments together to their time as children. Memories flashed in her head with startling clarity. Their father reading them stories. The day when she found out that Cyrus was still alive. The night that Styx took him. Her mother’s suicide. The twins, waiting for her to tuck them to bed.

  Help me!

  The whisper in her head sent goose pimples to sh
iver down her spine. She glanced at Xhi, but he did not seem to have heard anything as he waved frantically at her to go back. I’m sorry. I have to help him! She hurtled towards the machines with all the momentum of a tidal wave.

  “Angel! No!” Xhi hissed behind her, as the man on the chair turned towards them, his eyes betraying his surprise.

  Malekshei

  Lehmor

  Lehmor’s stomach sank. If he failed to placate Pratin, their lives would be over in a matter of minutes. The dying light in the sky cast long shadows, pierced by hateful green eyes glaring at him. How many Fallen existed, anyway? Had their entire population gathered at Malekshei?

  His fingers rested on the rod sitting in a scabbard on his belt as he kicked his heels on the horse’s side. It jolted forward, splashing through the mud. The storm had passed a little after dawn, leaving behind small pools of dirty water. He galloped past the clearing teeming with clones. He had expected them to train as an army, but they did not seem to have any need for parades: what they lacked in discipline, they made up in strength and agility.

  This time, no one came to take his horse. He jumped off and pushed aside the moist awning to step into the large tent for the second time.

  “I see you got my message.” The voice came from a corner covered in shadows. It was soft, filled with the kind of serenity found inside the eye of a storm.

  Lehmor frowned, his eyes struggling to pierce the darkness. Pratin rose slowly to approach him. How inappropriate that he smells of incense, Lehmor thought, annoyed. There is nothing holy about this man.

  Pratin circled him, eyeing him with curiosity mixed with contempt. “What was the point of last night?”

  Lehmor swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He had been pondering an answer to the inevitable question since the morning, when a messenger had stated Pratin’s request to see him. He’s nothing if not polite, Lehmor thought. Such a calm exterior for such a stormy soul.

  “My men don’t trust you. Once Malekshei falls, you’ll kill everyone.”

 

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