Despair threatened to swallow David, like a dreary fog fighting to enter his thoughts. Fight it, he ordered himself. It took all he had to push away its dark claws from his mind. “That’s not you talking. It’s the stuff they’re giving us.” He growled, his head throbbing in sudden pain. “You survived Styx. You drew the Whispers away from Malekshei. You’re Cyrus, ruler of the Capital.”
Cyrus let out a dry chuckle and clutched his head with both hands. “Some ruler. I didn’t even know this place existed. Themis knows what else was happening right under my nose.”
“We’ll—” David jumped back as a green mist emerged from the fine mesh that covered a series of small openings on the wall. “Damn it!” He buried his nose inside his sleeve and held his breath, but a couple of minutes later he collapsed, every muscle in his body soft as a sponge.
He could only watch helplessly as the door swished open a little later, and two men dressed in white walked in. They pricked his arm with a small vial ending in a fine needle and emptied its crimson contains into his body. As before, every cell, every muscle, every inch of his body fought against the drug.
I’m helping as much as I can, a voice whispered in his head.
Parad! You’re still here. When they stopped us at the gate—
I know. I had to hide. But now you need me. There’s only so much I can do without triggering an alarm.
David felt a force push against the drug in his body. His jaw twitched as the men then drew some of his blood into the vial, unaware of the struggle within him. They left as swiftly as they had appeared. Almost immediately, his muscles started responding and he stumbled to his feet, cursing under his breath.
He helped Cyrus up and they leaned against the wall, doubled over, fighting a wave of nausea. David almost jumped when the door whooshed open a second time. This is new. Why are they back? A guard shoved a woman into the cell, then the door closed with a soft hiss.
David’s eyes widened. He stared at the newcomer for a long moment, his mind refusing to believe his eyes, then he let out a stunned cry. “Gella!”
The woman barely looked up, continuing to stare at her feet. She looked damaged, broken, her eyes devoid of life. He ran to her and took her hands in his. The woman before him looked nothing like the woman who had once been in his bed, so confident and playful. Even so, to him, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He whispered her name feverishly, trying to catch her attention from behind whatever walls her mind was trapped in.
She needs help, a voice whispered in his head. A sense of urgency hit David like a current running through his body, pushing away the drug’s effect.
David’s eyes scanned Gella’s face. What’s wrong with her?
Souls can be wounded, just like bodies. These wounds almost never heal fully. The Whispers have torn them open. Take her in your arms.
What?
Just do it!
He pulled Gella into his arms and held her like a broken doll. Her body felt listless, lifeless. Heat warmed his belly, expanding into his chest. He felt it pushing outward, and had a glimpse of a golden light joining them.
“What’s going on?” Cyrus asked, still leaning against the wall.
David ignored him, focusing instead on the strange feeling. He lost track of time, the room disappearing from his eyes. Only the two of them remained, joined by the light. He continued until slowly, gradually, she stirred. He lowered his head to look into her eyes.
“Gella?”
Recognition flashed in her eyes. “David?”
He held her in a deep embrace. The warmth between them faded away.
“I smell lavender,” she said and gave him a questioning look.
He broke into a laugh. “He’s here, too. You scared us both.” He placed a tender kiss on her brow. “I missed you so.”
“Me too,” she murmured.
Cyrus cleared his throat and Gella jerked under David’s arms. “Cyrus!” She gently backed away from David.
“What happened to you?” Cyrus asked. He stood upright, as if to hide his drug-induced fatigue.
“I don’t know. Last thing I remember, I was meeting Paul. After that…” Her whole body shuddered and she rubbed her arms, as if shivering with cold.
“I left you in Anthea,” David said, rubbing her arms.
“Sol sent me to make peace with the Capital. Altman wouldn’t meet with me, so I met Paul. Then Alexander showed up.” Confusion marred her face. “I can’t remember much else. Just…” She looked away, never finishing her thought. “Where are we?” she asked after a while.
“The priest’s hidden lair,” Cyrus said in a sarcastic voice.
“Cyrus and I were together,” David explained. “On our way to Anthea, to help with the war. We stayed at a village for the night. The priest’s men…” His voice trailed off. He decided she was too frail to be burdened with details of the priest’s crimes. “They burned it down. When Alexander realized who we were, he brought us here.”
Gella’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“He’s mad?” David said with a shrug, unwilling to share more for now.
“He wants to release some sort of plague onto the planet,” Cyrus said.
What little color had returned to Gella’s cheeks disappeared. “Plague?”
David shot Cyrus an angry glare.
“What?” Cyrus asked, his eyes darkening. “She needs to know the truth.” He faced Gella. “They’ve been taking our blood and giving us shots twice a day. We don’t know if it is because they want us alive or we’re their guinea pigs.”
“What do you mean?” Gella asked in confusion.
“Doesn’t matter,” David interjected. “Together, we can stop them.”
“How?” Cyrus asked and banged the door. “You have a key on you?”
“Your father,” David said, pointing at his head. “He’s with me.”
“I’ll never get used to that,” Gella murmured, giving David a strange look.
March 31, Anthea
Sol
Sol took a step into the clear blue sea. The cool waters lapped at her ankles and chilled her toes. She drew in a sharp breath and took another step, trying to ignore the needles prickling her skin. When the water reached her knees, she lay still until the cold numbed her legs.
She leaned forward and gently sank into the sea the sharp stick in her hands. When it hovered a couple of inches above her toes, she turned parallel to the shoreline and took one slow step, then another. The grainy sand slipped under her toes, marring the clear waters with a thin cloud of sparkling dust. The stick’s sharp end drew small circles above the sand.
Fishing for soles was a trick her father had taught her. Whenever she felt overwhelmed, she would come to the sandy shore that was frequented by the flatfish for some alone time. With no news from Gella and the invasion closer with each passing day, the war preparations had reached fever pitch. When she woke up that morning and saw a clear blue sky and a smiling sun, she knew it was time for some fishing. Battered and fried, her catch would make for a delicious lunch. Her mouth watered at the thought.
Her mind barely registered the guards discreetly dotting the shore. In the waters, she was alone—a feeling she cherished. Her thoughts wandered to Gella, then Satori, then Paul, then Gella again. Dark rumors spoke of a power struggle in the East. Alexander, the Head Priest, had apparently found a way to get rid of Paul—the former heir apparent to the Capital. No one knew what had happened to Gella, though—or, indeed, to Paul.
She took another step and a violent spasm started under her foot and sprang all the way up her legs, through her spine and on to her head.
Like a flash, the memory of the first time she had felt this sensation filled her head. Only ten at the time, she had thrown away the stick and rushed, screaming, to her father, who couldn’t stop laughing.
“There will be times when your enemy is hiding,” he’d told her. “When you finally draw them out, you need to pin them down. Then, kill them. If you hesitat
e, even for a second, it’s too late.”
Instead of running away, this time she pressed down, throwing all her weight on her foot. With one swift motion, she stabbed the sand with the stick. Crimson blood flowed from beneath her toes, painting the blue waters purple. She jabbed farther until the furious tremors ceased. Only then did she carefully slide her foot off her prey. She lifted the stick and grinned. The flatfish was at least fifteen inches long and bore an uncanny resemblance to Altman. She turned to the nearest guard and splashed onto the shore, as the man fetched a bamboo basket.
The grin slipped from her face when she noticed someone hurrying down the slope that led to the beach. She placed the quivering fish into the basket and closed the lid as a young man approached.
“Sol,” he said, out of breath as he slowed down. “A man brought this for you.” He opened his palm to reveal a crystal.
She pulled a battered e-lib from a pocket inside her vest and pressed the crystal to its side. The crumbling family heirloom flickered slowly to life and displayed maps, names and numbers. Sol’s head spun at the endless columns. “He’s mad,” she whispered. Altman was leaving nothing to chance. Every spare man and woman was to partake in the invasion. Her gaze snapped to the messenger. “Where did you get this?”
“A priest of Themis brought it.”
“Wait.” She pulled the man away from prying ears. When she was satisfied no one could hear them, she nodded for the man to speak.
He glanced nervously around. “A priest brought it, saying it should be passed on to you alone. He said he had news of Paul and Gella. The Regent caught them and accused Paul of treachery. Alexander, the Capital’s Head Priest, intervened and saved their lives. He convinced Altman to hand them over to him. The man who gave me this said that Alexander sends it to prove he’s a friend of the Democracies.”
A guffaw burst through Sol’s lips. Alexander was a snake. If he sent the crystal, he had something planned. “What else?”
“He said you could test the metadata on the crystal. It should prove the accuracy of the information.” He stopped when he saw the suspicious look on Sol’s face.
Whatever else he is, Alexander’s not stupid. But why help us? Unless, of course, he wants Altman to lose. That way, he can make a play for the throne. She tried to remember what she’d heard of the man. A fanatic, for sure. But wasn’t he related to the late justice Augustine? Did that explain his ambitions?
The messenger staring at her cleared his throat, reminding her of his presence. He started shifting his weight from leg to leg and rocking from side to side, like he had saved the most exciting news for last.
“Go on.”
“He also said he knew when and where the Regent will attack,” he blurted out. “Fennel Bay. Two weeks from now.”
Sol looked around her. Fennel Bay. The very place where they stood, with the smooth sand dunes and the pine forest reaching almost all the way to the sea. In a few days, the place would be covered in red, purple and blue ephemeral wild flowers. They never lasted more than a week or two. Would they be there when Teo arrived? Her heart sank as she turned her gaze to the azure sea. The sand, the waters, the white foam cresting the waves…they would all turn red with blood in a few days. And there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
March 32, Anthea
Satori
“Satori!”
Sol’s voice startled her. She ducked and the incoming baton missed her head by a hair. With a swirl, she knocked her opponent’s helmet off his head with the flat of her palm, then raised her hand to motion for the fight to stop. The man lowered his baton and took a small bow before moving to the side, leaving her and Sol alone.
“Walk with me,” Sol said.
This is unusual. Did I do something? Satori wiped sweat from her forehead as they walked to the center of the open field that served as training grounds to the troops. She sniffed her armpit and wrinkled her nose. I wish she’d come after I’d showered.
“We have news from Anthea,” Sol said once she was sure no one could hear them.
Satori’s breath caught. Dad?
“Your father’s been jailed for trying to help us,” Sol continued, like she were reading her mind. “We don’t know exactly what happened, but it looks like the new Head Priest is now Altman’s right hand.” She paused, as if debating which news to share and which to hide.
Satori waited patiently, understanding some things were on a need-to-know basis. Still, curiosity gnawed at her. “Is my father safe?”
“For now. The thing is, he still managed to send us information on the invasion.”
Satori’s gaze jumped to Sol’s face, struggling to penetrate her inscrutable expression. “Let me see.”
Sol pulled an e-lib from her long coat.
Satori snatched it and switched it on. Maps and lists poured on its screen. She studied the data, her face hanging ever more with each scrolling of the screen. “We’re outnumbered one to three. At least.”
“Assuming every single one of our units is available, yes. But we’ll need to reserve at least two units to guard the city. One to five is not unlikely.” She rubbed her eyes. “Altman fooled your father with a similar stratagem. This may well be a trap. If so, we need to be prepared. Should Teo attack the port, he’ll find the entrance blocked by our ships—and the Chain. As for troops, two units can hold back the invasion until the rest can rejoin them from Fennel Bay. Four, even better.”
“If we can afford them.” Satori handed the e-lib back. “What about Scorpio?”
“I’ve already sent messengers. But they’re in the middle of a campaign themselves. Even if they can spare the troops, it’s unlikely they’ll be here in time.”
“We can still take them,” Satori said with a confidence she did not feel.
Sol’s lips tugged upward. She pushed the e-lib back in Satori’s hands. “Good. That’s what I want to hear. How?”
Satori pursed her lips in thought. “We can use the terrain to our advantage.” She switched the e-lib on again and pinched a map to zoom into Fennel Bay. “Here.” She pointed at a long strip of sand. “The best place for an invasion is right here. I’m betting my life this is where Altman will land.”
“You’re betting more than that,” Sol said. She raised her hand. “I’m sorry. Continue.”
Possible battle movements crossed Satori’s mind, like a deadly game of chess. What would I do next, if I were Altman? “First of all, we must keep them pinned down at Fennel Bay,” she murmured, more to herself than to Sol. “We block all exits from the plain, or risk being outflanked.” She tapped the e-lib to zoom out. “Second, our troops are mainly ground ones, which makes cavalry their main tactical advantage. With Parad gone, all of the Capital’s generals follow the same strategy. It relies on two things: cavalry and archers. First, their archers pound their enemy. Then, the cavalry wipes out any survivors. So, we need to do two things.” She raised one finger. “First, we need to shield our troops from their arrows. Our shields will help, but we also need to dig trenches. Perhaps set up a few traps as well.”
“A static defensive position makes little sense,” Sol observed. “Our strength lies in the melee. The sooner we bring that about, the better.”
“True. But they outnumber us, so we need to narrow the theater. Is there any way to force their cavalry into as narrow an opening as possible?” She studied the map, tapping rhythmically the e-lib’s edge with her finger. “The problem here is the wide area our troops must cover,” she murmured. “With so few troops, we must thin our lines to the breaking point.” She zoomed out. “To the east, Fennel Bay has marshes. They will guard our flank.” She pointed to the west of the bay. “There is a pine grove here. Do you think we can dig enough stakes into the ground to make sure no horses come that way?” Worried thoughts gnawed at her. “If we can’t protect that area, they’ll uproot our defenses in no time. And I’m not sure we can spare enough troops to cover the entire grove.”
“I have just the thing,” So
l said, a smile playing on her lips. “Richard was quite the tinkerer.”
Satori glanced around them. Sol’s guards had made sure no one could overhear them. Even so, she lowered her voice. “Another weapon? Besides the suit, you mean?”
Sol nodded. “He also built a device that uses sound. Remember the black box next to the suit?”
Satori scrunched her face in thought, picturing the narrow space. “One covered in mesh?”
“That’s the one. It’s small enough that we can hide it in the woods. I’m not sure how it works, I just know it can prevent a crowd from entering an area. Anyone veering into its path will panic.”
Satori’s eyebrow flew upward in surprise. “Panic?”
“I believe so.” She rubbed her chin. “Richard was less than clear in his notes, calling it at times a sonic, a resonance or an area denial weapon. He’s clearer on its effects: nausea, disorientation, discomfort, vomiting and, well, panic.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Is it effective against horses?”
“No idea. It will be against their riders, though.”
A dark cloud lifted off Satori’s heart. “So, we install it in the grove to prevent them from entering. It can also guide them wherever we want.”
“Such as a narrow place where our archers can take care of them,” Sol finished her thought. She placed his hands on Satori’s shoulders, chuckling. “Thank you. Now, come. We have a lot of work and not much time.”
Part 3
“Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them, humanity cannot survive.”
Dalai Lama XIV
The Architect
The circle of hulking monsters moved closer, trapping him. His gaze followed their towering bodies, then darted around in vain search of a way out of the caves. Despite the luminous moss covering the walls, the edges of the room were lost in darkness. It seemed to go on forever, so he could only guess at its true dimensions.
Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series Page 102