“Nice,” Sam said, out of breath. He gave his weapon an admiring look, then the blade disappeared with a soft swoosh as he approached Lehmor.
“Tie found this. Sheimlek, she called it? She unlocked it for me and told me to find you,” he shouted to be heard over the broken rod’s wail. “Mind if I hold on to it for now? You seem to have your hands full.”
Lehmor nodded, too shaken for words. He switched off the broken rod. His ears rang, unwilling for a moment to accept the whine’s end.
A tall flame overshot the hill before them “Lehmor!” Marl shouted. He pointed at the new danger. “Run!”
We can’t outrun the fire, Lehmor realised. The Fallen had stolen whatever little time they had left. His eyes searched the woods frantically. “This way!”
They barrelled towards a narrow clearing, the smoke burning their lungs. The sky had turned a dirty crimson. The colour of blood. The colour of death. Sweat covered their bodies, the temperature rising with every passing minute.
“Sam, the Sheimlek,” Lehmor said as he lay down Moirah, as softly as he could.
“The clearing’s not big enough,” Marl shouted. Valentiner was holding on to him, crying softly.
“It will be,” Lehmor said and fired up the blade. He swung at a tree, then another and another. His companions picked up branches and leaves, tossing them as far away as they could. Lehmor then turned his weapon to the ground. He used it in a series of frantic motions. The earth exploded under the blade, leaving deep scars behind. “Water!” he ordered, and Sam handed him a full canteen. “Clothes!” They removed their shirts. Lehmor soaked them in the water, until the last drop was gone.
“The girl first,” he said, pointing towards one of the freshly dug holes.
“The holes won’t help us,” Marl protested. “We need to keep running.”
“The fire is too fast for us,” Sam said. “Lehmor’s right. Trust him.”
Valentiner took Lehmor’s hand and lay down inside the hole, shaking with fear. She raised red eyes at her father.
“It’s okay, honey, they’ll keep you safe,” he assured her, his moist eyes gazing at Lehmor for confirmation.
Lehmor nodded and placed a wet shirt over her head. “This will help you breathe.” He pushed the soil back into the hole, covering her little body.
Marl lay down next his daughter, wrapping himself with soil with Sam’s help.
“A tortoise,” Valentiner cried out pointing next to them. A tortoise, big as Lehmor’s head, stumbled towards them in a panicked attempt to escape the approaching inferno. The air was rapidly thickening with smoke, and Sam and Lehmor covered their nostrils with the wet clothes, tying the sleeves around their head. “You have to save it,” Valentiner insisted.
Lehmor grabbed the panicked animal, holding it under his arm. “I’ll keep it safe,” he promised and shovelled soil onto her with his arms.
“We need something to cover our faces,” Marl shouted to be heard over the roar of the approaching fire. Lehmor used the blade to slice off thick slivers of dried bark from a fallen tree. He placed them over the dripping linen cloths and covered them with as much soil as he could.
“Now us.” He laid down Moirah with Sam’s help. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and planted a soft kiss on her lips. They placed a wet shirt and bark over her face before covering her with soil.
“You next,” he ordered Sam. The smoke stung their eyes, making it hard to see. They knelt to breathe in the little remaining air.
“You first!” Sam said in a muffled shout.
Lehmor pushed him into the hole. “No time.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Sam agreed and pushed soil on himself.
As soon as Lehmor had covered Sam up, he jumped into the last hole and frantically shoved as much soil as he could over himself. The tortoise had withdrawn into its shell and lay still as he pushed it against his chest. He pulled a large piece of bark over it and another over his head before covering them with dirt and soil. He slid his hands into the hole as soon as he was done.
Moments later, sweat pooled under him as the temperature rose. His breathing became difficult. Even under the thick layer of soil, he could hear the burning wood crackling all around him as the fire roared through the forest.
He waited as long as he could, then the tortoise fidgeted and pushed away to crawl out of its underground shelter. He kept it in place with trembling hands. Has Moirah made it? The thought of losing her was driving him crazy. It choked him even more than the fire. He longed to push away the soil and check on her. If she’s dead… The tortoise interrupted his dark thoughts, pushing once again to escape his hands. How much time had passed? He had no way of telling. Was it getting cooler, or was it just his imagination?
He let the tortoise dig its way out of the hole, then waited. When he could take it no longer, he pushed the bark away to stare into the heart of hell. Where ancient trees once stood proudly, only simmering stumps remained. The acrid stench of smoke covered everything. The tortoise stood frozen a few feet away, its neck craned, as if stunned by the disaster. A moment later, it lumbered on the still smoking path.
Lehmor rushed to Moirah and pushed away the soil. Tears flowed from his eyes, watering the scorched ground. He pried away the bark from her face. She looked peaceful, as if sleeping. Is she…
Kneeling down, he placed his ear next to her lips. When he heard a soft moan, he fought a sob of relief. They had made it.
Part two
“The important work of moving the world forward does not wait to be done by perfect men.”
George Eliot
August 307
The Capital
Cyrus
The plateau overlooked the planet. The stunning view took Cyrus’s breath away. A carpet of tall, lush cypresses intermingled with silver green olive trees rolling down the hill, to wash into the emerald sea. Dancing sun rays sparkled in the water. Only a few scattered clouds soiled the sky. He closed his eyes to enjoy the gentle breeze blowing on his face, taking away the day’s heat.
“Welcome back.” A young boy had slithered next to him, startling him.
Cyrus examined him, his brow furrowing. Dark, cropped hair surrounded a sweet face, but the eyes made him uneasy, a cruel fire burning deep within. Despite the boy’s innocent appearance, his guts clenched in alarm. He nodded curtly.
“You like what you see?” the boy asked with a sweet smile.
“It’s beautiful.” In the distance, dolphins splashed in the water, chasing each other. A grin broke through his lips.
“It can all be yours.”
The sky darkened as a cloud passed before the sun. Cyrus shook his head. “No.”
“Why not? It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. Safe. Secure. No one can hurt you or your family ever again.”
Cyrus’s heart raced in alarm, although he could perceive no danger. “What do you want?”
“Just a promise that you’ll help us out from time to time. Little things, nothing big.”
“Us?” Realization hit Cyrus and a pained grimace flashed on his face. “We’ve already tried that, didn’t we? Didn’t work out so well.”
“That was different.”
The image before them shifted, as if washed away by the wind that suddenly howled around them. The idyllic scene morphed into one of war, the orange of fire mingling with the rusty red of blood. Bodies littered the hill, broken lances and cracked swords in their dead hands. In the distance, a savage firestorm was gutting a city. A bell tower crumbled, sending smoking debris to crash on the rooftops around it. The stench of death choked Cyrus. He coughed to clear his lungs from smoke and dust.
“See?” the boy said calmly. “This is what you wanted before. We could make that happen, too.”
A wave of nausea hit Cyrus. He drew sharp breaths to avoid emptying his stomach. “No,” he said through clenched teeth.
The boy shook his head, as if bemused by his reaction. “You don’t want peace nor war. What do you want?”
Cyrus
turned his back at the grotesque sight, anger boiling inside him. “Freedom. The one thing you can’t give me.”
“We can give you control,” the boy suggested. “You could rule the whole planet.”
“Tried it already. Didn’t work out. I had less freedom than a slave.”
“But you were safe.”
“I ended up with a bullet to the head. Rightly so, too.” The anger bubbling within dissipated like morning fog at the rising of the sun. He kneeled and stared into the boy’s eyes. “You have nothing for me. Leave me alone.”
The boy howled in rage and lunged at Cyrus, exploding into a greenish smoke as soon as he came into contact with his chest. Cyrus yelled in alarm and jumped to his feet.
“He’s awake!” an excited voice cried out. “Xhi, hurry! He’s awake!”
Cyrus’s eyelids fluttered open, his gaze focusing on Angel’s warm eyes. “Angel?”
“He remembers me!” Cyrus stared at her in confusion, and she hurried to explain. “The doctor said you may not remember much.”
He rubbed his head, grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling. His fingers traced a thin line where the skin was raised. His other hand touched damp hay, and he pushed himself up on a straw mattress.
“Please tell me we can finally leave this place,” Angel complained to someone, her voice revealing her restlessness. “He needs sunlight.”
“I’m fine,” Cyrus murmured, scratching at the dust that has become his memory. The words came out slow, slurred. He grimaced in frustration. “I’m not a plant.”
“Or a vegetable,” Xhi said and chuckled, ignoring the dark look Angel shot him. “Anyway,” he continued, “we leave tonight. Our food’s run out and I ain’t going back there.”
Cyrus examined the dank corridor and wrinkled his nose at the stench hitting his nostrils. His gaze focused on the silhouette hovering over him. “Xhi?” Water splashed at his feet under a rat’s patter, then a few hesitant memories crawled into his mind and he groaned. “What’ve I done?”
“It wasn’t you,” Angel said confidently.
A sad, crooked smile touched his lips. “No. Yes.” Now’s not the time, he told himself. The last thing he remembered was the flash from a gun’s muzzle. He tried to piece his memories together, but large parts were missing.
He looked around him. A long, brick corridor slithered into blackness, a timid torch above his head offering a solitary point of comfort. The place reeked. A rat squeaked in the distance and splashed in the stale waters. We are hiding. From Teo? “Where are we?”
“Lucas was the first to build the Capital’s sewers,” Angel said. “When Justice Dar continued his work, she shut off entire segments of the original tunnels. Most have forgotten their existence. Somehow, Tie found out about them. She’s been using them to transfer people in and out the Chamber.”
So this is how she got me out the first time, Cyrus thought, not bothering to string the words together into sentences. “How long?” Searching for words felt laborious, like exercising an injured muscle.
Angel exchanged an uneasy look with Xhi. “A couple of months.”
Months? What have I missed? The place brought back memories of his flight from Styx’ grasp. They no longer terrorised him, he realised. He felt numb inside, like he had no emotions, no expectations or hopes. And yet, for the first time since he could remember, no fears, either. He welcomed death almost as much as he welcomed life. Is this because I’ve stood too long between the two?
Angel squeezed his hand. “Are you okay? Here, eat this.”
She fished a dry apple out of a dirty bag. He lifted a hand to accept it. His arm felt weak and undernourished, his muscles atrophied. “Xhi stole these from the kitchen,” Angel explained. “Of course, the bag is almost empty,” she added apologetically. Cyrus bit into the apple, nodding. The sharp, tangy flavour filled his mouth, tastier than anything he had ever eaten, and a smile lit up his face. Angel grinned with satisfaction and turned to Xhi. “Are you sure they’ll have given up the search by now?”
“I’m sure they’ve moved outside the Capital,” Xhi said and grabbed another apple. “This’ll buy us enough time to reach some friends in the city.”
“Then what?” Angel asked as she passed Xhi a pocketknife. “Why can’t we just show Cyrus? He is their lawful ruler, after all.”
Xhi pursed his lips and examined Cyrus. “What do you think, my Prince? You up to reclaiming your throne?”
A bitter half-smile curled Cyrus’s lips upwards. That throne had almost cost him everything, including his life. He shook his head.
“Didn’t think so. Besides,” Xhi added, “Teo Altman will have you killed on the spot.”
“Not everyone’s on his side,” Angel protested. “Anyway, it beats running away like mice.” As if on cue, the rat splashing in the waters before them stood on his hind legs and sniffed the air as Xhi cut up the apple. Angel wrinkled her nose and pried a pebble from the wall. She took aim and threw it in the rat’s direction. It scurried away before the pebble had even left her fingers. It landed in the water with a splash.
“Watch it,” Xhi protested.
“Sorry,” she said and sulked. “But this is worse than prison.”
“No,” Cyrus said. “We’re free.”
“It stinks worse,” she murmured.
“Yes, but Altman can’t have you executed,” Xhi pointed out, shoving half an apple into his mouth. “Or force you to marry him.”
“Ugh. I’d rather marry that rat.” The two of them chuckled. “Anyway, you never answered,” she continued. “Why don’t we go up there and show them Cyrus?”
“Three reasons,” Xhi said. “First of all, your brother don’t seem too keen on it.” Apple bits flew out of his mouth as he spoke. Cyrus nodded in agreement, ignoring the man’s poor grammar skills or manners. “Second… Tell me, Prince. What is the name of your clerk?”
Cyrus frowned in confusion. “Who?”
“Exactly,” Xhi said, addressing Angel. “Your brother paid no attention to running things. Teo ran the show. He made Cyrus a lot of enemies. Even with the rest of the Capital on his side, it only takes a single blade between his ribs to finish the job.”
She hesitated. “You said three reasons.”
Xhi rolled his eyes in a theatrical manner. “And third, he ain’t all here.”
Cyrus groaned his disagreement. Stop talking about me like I’m not even here, he wanted to shout, but the words failed to exit his mouth.
Xhi stuffed another piece of apple into his mouth. “Sorry, Prince, but you sleep all the time and barely remember your name.”
“But Cyrus could have Teo arrested the moment we surfaced,” she protested.
“Or Teo will have you arrested and Cyrus killed,” Xhi said, still chewing. He gulped loudly. “Half the Capital believes you’ve already tried to murder your brother once, remember? He could say he got to you too late, and that you finished the job. No, if we come back, it’ll have to be armed, and with friends.”
Cyrus’s heart sank at the memory of Lehmor falling off the cliff. Of Moirah, her skin warm and soft against his. Worst of all, of David. Shame stirred in his guts. “What friends?”
“There are dark rumours from the North,” Xhi said. “Word is that Malekshei’s fallen.”
Cyrus opened his eyes with difficulty, thinking at first he had misheard. “What?” He tried to stand up, but lost his balance. Angel steadied him, helping him sit back down on the straw. “When? Who?”
“They speak of monsters in the North. First and humans are fleeing west. To judge by the tales, the gates of hell have opened up.”
“Just stories,” Angel said softly, her arm still wrapped around him.
“Maybe.” Cyrus’s gaze landed on the worn shoes on his feet. The once fine leather was now dark and nicked in places. Much like his soul. He gulped down a sudden rush of emotion. “Old Woman,” he mumbled.
“The Old Woman, huh?” He scratched his beard. “Last I heard, Tie and Sam were h
eaded there, too. Maybe you’ll meet them.” He winked at Angel, who turned a deep crimson.
“Sam?” Cyrus’s brow furrowed at his sister’s alarm.
“Don’t you remember?” she asked.
He leaned back and closed his eyes. “Memory. Blur.” A dark mist covered most of the previous year’s events. He barely remembered anything besides Teo shooting him, the rest of the memories only available in fleeting bits and pieces.
“Is this because of his wound?” Angel asked Xhi, who shrugged his ignorance.
“Sam’s a guard,” Xhi said carefully. “He kept her safe.”
Cyrus could tell the man was watching him for a reaction. “Good.” With him crazy, she needed all the protection she could get. He needed to consult the Old Woman, beg for her help and forgiveness. “When we leave?”
“Wait,” Angel said. “What about the twins?”
A groan accompanied Xhi’s roll of his eyes. “Now you want us to rescue them, too?”
“We have to,” she said, jutting her jaw in defiance.
“We can’t!” Xhi barked. “They’ll be guarding the place.”
“But they won’t know all its nooks and crannies, will they? Not like we do.” She nudged Cyrus, who gave her a tired smile.
“You wish to lose your head, be my guest,” Xhi shot at her.
“Come on, Xhi, you know what kind of monster Teo is. You can’t leave them at his mercy!”
“I leave tomorrow at dusk,” Xhi said, as if he had not heard her. “Anyone want to follow me can do so. Get some rest ‘til then.”
“Yes.” The conversation had drained Cyrus, and he lay down. His head rested on a smelly cloth as Angel shuffled to the side to give him more space. Within seconds of shutting his eyes, he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Scorpio
David
“A foreigner and a thief. The Butcher of Ephia herself, no less! Is that the best Anthea can do when begging for our help?”
The accusing words were thickly accented, the Western drawl substituting the familiar Eastern lilt. Lycus, the Scorpion Secretary, met David’s eyes in silent challenge. The journey had been uneventful, but the meeting with one of the two most powerful people on Scorpio turned out to be a different affair. Scarcely a word had left his lips when Lycus interrupted him with her scornful words. He wondered if Cleomen, the second Secretary, would be as unaccommodating in his welcome of the envoys.
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