The Nullification Engine (The Alchemancer: Book Two)

by Scott Marlowe

  "We are not alone," Ensel Rhe said, his voice low.

  That in itself did not alarm him. The gardens were part of the palace, but still somewhat public. With the coronation ball getting underway or already ongoing, the gardens were an obvious place to get away for a time. But he sensed more than a handful arriving, and the numbers only grew.

  "Wait here," he whispered as he crept down the gravel path leading out. At the end, before it opened up, he stopped.

  "Are they coming up from the sewers?" Jakinda whispered from behind him, disbelief in her voice.

  He'd heard her following him, and had considered ordering her to go back. But knowing her stubbornness well, and also that she was safer with him than with anyone else, he let her be. She was right. They were coming up from the sewers, through a manhole-sized drain they'd lifted and put aside. Ensel Rhe counted a dozen, with more climbing up by the second. Though the area was not well-lit, he made out thin, hunched forms, with snouts, tall ears, and waving tails. Also, he saw armor and weapons.

  Skeva.

  At that moment of realization he sensed the ones behind them.

  He spun about, putting himself between them and his daughter. Jakinda's expression was one of surprise and confusion at his sudden movement, though realization hit her as she saw the black-clad skeva dropping down behind them. They'd swords already drawn and, as they waded in silently, meant to use them. Ensel Rhe's khatesh came out in a flash of steel which knocked the first attack away. The second fared no better, but the space was too confined, the combatants too close, and Jakinda was there with no way to fight or defend herself, so Ensel Rhe wrapped his arm around her waist despite her protests and plunged them both into the rose bushes. Jakinda cried out in pain as the thorns cut into her. Then they were free, pushed through to the other side. More rats awaited them. These wore mail, held short swords, and were surprised to see the two eslar. Ensel Rhe used that to his advantage, holding Jakinda close as he plowed through their ranks. When they were through, he released his daughter, letting her run on her own.

  Their commotion drew the attention of the other skeva still coming into the garden as a host of them took off in pursuit. Also, there were the black-clad ones, who crashed through the roses behind them, drew knives, and, not satisfied with waiting to use them close up, hurled them at the eslars' backs. Ensel Rhe smothered Jakinda, taking them both to the ground as the knives whizzed by overhead. He shoved Jakinda back up and pushed her forward when she did not move fast enough. Ensel Rhe tried to use the maze-like nature of the gardens to their advantage, but skeva followed no matter which twists or turns he plunged them down. Then they came up against a stone wall and went no further. With nothing to use to climb up, they were trapped. Ensel Rhe spun around just as a trio of the black-clad skeva came into view. Behind them were a host of skeva regulars.

  "Why isn't anyone coming?" Jakinda asked.

  Ensel Rhe cast a sidelong glance her way. She was breathing hard, her eyes darting back and forth, looking for some way out. They were surrounded by trees whose branches spread so wide they'd have to fight their way through them if they attempted to pass that way. Not enough time for that now. Jakinda inched in that direction, anyway.

  "Jakinda Rhe!"

  His shout sent a shock through her. Drawing his knife and short blade, he handed both to her.

  "They are not as well-balanced as your kinjatos, but they are sharp."

  Jakinda took hold of them, but the weapons were limp in her hands. She was not ready for this.

  "I will hold them here," he said to her. "Run for the trees while there is still time."

  "What? No!" She tightened her grip on sword and knife. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you."

  No time to argue as the lead ratmen fanned out, preparing to take them both down at once.

  "Imagine we stand in the dojo's circle, Jakinda Rhe. Remember what Gerwyn has taught you."

  Then the skeva attacked.

  Three rushed them. Three were thrown back, all by Ensel Rhe, who caught the sword of one, lashed it into the other, and, in closing with the third, slammed his fist into its face. Though Jakinda Rhe stood in a ready position, she hadn't moved an inch.

  "Speak the words if you must," Ensel Rhe said as he pushed the next wave back. The lead ones recovered, and moved around to their flank.

  Behind him, he heard the beginning of the litany.

  "This is my Circle."

  But the words were soft and without conviction. Ensel Rhe lent them strength, making her start anew as his voice drowned hers out.

  "This is my Circle," he shouted, kicking a skeva in the face. "Nothing shall enter unless I allow it." He slashed the next across the throat. "As long as I draw breath, I will defend it and those who have taken refuge in it." One of the black-clad warriors came in low. Ensel Rhe sidestepped it, using its momentum to hurl it past him and into those at their flank. It bought Jakinda another second. "Those who attempt to enter unbidden will be met with death."

  Ensel Rhe stabbed a skeva in the abdomen, kicking it free from his sword just as the wave became a flood of berserker warriors, screaming and shouting with swords and axes brandished. He backed away, staying close to his daughter as he took those in front one at a time, knocking aside the blades of swords and the edges of axes and killing with each counterstroke. The rats had numbers on their side, but they'd little skill. The ones dressed in black, their elite, were quicker, but not quick enough, as Ensel Rhe knocked the blade of one aside and slashed it across the chest. The few deaths he caused did little to slow the tide. More and more came, and then there was no keeping them from his daughter.

  The first skeva to close with Jakinda tried to jab its sword past her defenses, but she fell into a practiced maneuver, sliding the skeva's blade along her own while forcing it to overextend itself. Jakinda took that opportunity to punch her knife through the links of its mail shirt. The skeva fell back, but it was quickly replaced by another.

  Ensel Rhe found three of the elite skeva facing off against him, leaving Jakinda on her own. Before the three had completed their maneuvering, Ensel Rhe leapt at them. They were fast, but he was faster. He deflected one attack while turning his stroke into a killing one which took the next across the throat. While it clutched the wound, Ensel Rhe concentrated his ka into a kick which sent the third one hurtling back into the trees. The first was on him again before he'd both feet back on the ground, forcing the eslar to parry a series of horizontal slashes even as the third warrior ran back into the fray and closed on him. Put on the defensive, Ensel Rhe was driven back by inches. He risked a glance toward his daughter, who engaged a pair of soldiers now. Blood ran down one of her arms, but she was holding her own.

  The two black-clad warriors maneuvered wide, positioning themselves into a pincer formation. Ensel Rhe didn't dare move forward for fear of leaving Jakinda exposed to them. But retreating further meant pushing his daughter into the two she struggled against. Realizing he had to hold his ground, he saw no reason why he shouldn't at least even the odds. Ensel Rhe whipped his sword around, hacking into one of the regulars facing his daughter. The skeva fell back, but a spray of blood from it caught Jakinda completely unaware, blinding her as it shot across her face.

  "Father! I—I can't see!"

  She shuffled back, no longer mindful of their circle's perimeter as she flashed her sword and knife in a chaotic display meant to block anything which came her way. It worked, buying her enough time to clear her vision. The moment she did, the remaining skeva lunged at her. Both of them went down, the skeva on top as they landed flat on the ground. The skeva's sword fell from its grasp, but it drew a curved knife from its belt. Jakinda grabbed hold of its arms on its downward stroke, slowing the descent of the blade, but not stopping it. The skeva put all of its weight behind the weapon, until the blade was inches from Jakinda's throat.

  Ensel Rhe lunged for the skeva assaulting his daughter, leaving himself exposed to the other two, who saw the opportunity an
d made lunges of their own. Kicking the one with the knife from Jakinda, Ensel Rhe expected one or both swords from the others to plunge into him. Neither did.

  —Thwack!—

  Ensel Rhe spun around. An arrow protruded from the chest of one of his skeva attackers. The ratman fell away, and the other, as surprised as Ensel Rhe, hesitated long enough for the eslar to drop back out of sword range. He heard other sounds of combat in the near distance and the barbarous roar of a krill. A raucous bedlam of gruff hoots and hollers and the sound of hammers clanging against steel joined the first sounds. In ran the one who'd shot the arrow. A human, he'd the look of a patroller about him. He wasted no time with words, tossing his bow aside as he drew his sword and engaged the lone remaining elite skeva. Some regulars remained too, though these looked more interested in inching their way out of danger than sticking around to fight. Ensel Rhe raised his sword at them. The gesture sent them scurrying, but right into Gerwyn, who charged into the glade. Resplendent in his finest long coat and frilled tie, with folded cuffs and cufflinks which shone, the krill held a deer-horn knife in each clawed hand, their curved blades already stained red. The krill and his knives offered the fleeing skeva no mercy. Meanwhile, the patroller held his own against the black-clad skeva, but only just barely. Ensel Rhe joined the fight, more than evening the odds as, together, they dispatched their last opponent. Two fled past Gerwyn. The krill drew a knife from his belt and hurled it at one of them. The skeva slid to the ground, dead. The other one escaped.

  "That's one less rat I have to kill later," Gerwyn said. "Too bad the other one got away." The krill spun around, his gaze locking on Jakinda Rhe. "Are you all right? I came down to see where—"

  Jakinda rushed into Gerwyn, wrapping her arms around him in such an embrace the krill had no choice but to wrap his arms around her in kind. She said nothing, but Ensel Rhe saw the quiver in her shoulders and he knew she was crying.

  Ensel Rhe retrieved the short sword and knife he'd loaned to his daughter, wiping the blades clean on the fur of one of the dead skeva. He thought it sufficient time for Jakinda Rhe to regain herself, but saw she still embraced Gerwyn. He felt no jealousy over it, but he did feel a growing sense of urgency as the seconds continued to tick by. The skeva were on the move, and so too was Ingrid Kane, who he knew would take advantage of the chaos the skeva caused. For all he knew, her plan included their attack.

  "We saw more skeva, coming up from below," Ensel Rhe said.

  "You ain't seen the half of it yet!" said a dwarf who walked into the glade. With him were two others. All were armored and two held hammers and the third, an axe. They'd all long beards.

  The first dwarf who'd spoken narrowed his gaze at Ensel Rhe. "You look familiar." Then it hit him as his face lit up. "Well, I'll be damned. You're the eslar who killed Kelgin!"

  Ensel Rhe looked closer at the three of them. They did not look familiar to him, nor did he know the name, Kelgin. He wondered if they were about to try exacting revenge for his death, but the dwarf only shrugged.

  "What's done is done," the dwarf said. "Never liked him much, anyway."

  The others muttered similar sentiments.

  The patroller—Ensel Rhe recognized the Alzion crest now—retrieved his bow and said, "The dwarves and I just came into the gardens from the sewers and ran into this gentleman." He gestured at Gerwyn. "We've been tracking the skeva, figuring they were headed for the palace. We've no idea what this is all about, but we have to warn the earl. We think the skeva are coming up in all parts of the city. No one in Brighton is ready for them."

  "The palace guards weren't," said one of the dwarves. "We found two of them here in the garden with their throats cut."

  Jakinda separated herself from Gerwyn. She turned her head, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She was covered in blood, not all of it skevan.

  "It gets worse, too," the patroller said. "They've lined the sewers with explosives. We think they intend to destroy the entire city."

  "Huh," Gerwyn said. "I've never heard of skeva using explosives before."

  "Nor have I," Ensel Rhe said.

  "They may be scattered throughout the city," the patroller said. "But I bet the bulk of their forces are concentrated here."

  Gerwyn took in a breath. "The coronation ball. You are right. We must warn the earl."

  All but Ensel Rhe and Jakinda ran from the glade.

  "And what will you do?" Jakinda asked her father.

  "You know the answer to that. Whether Ingrid has anything to do with this uprising or not, she will not let the opportunity pass her by."

  Jakinda sighed. "Then I'm coming with you."

  Ensel Rhe offered no argument.

  "Wait! Before we go, I want to say...thank you for saving my life. I... I didn't realize..." Her gaze lowered from his. "I very nearly froze. If there'd been time and a way, I would have run."

  "If there'd been time, we both would have run. This was an untenable position. You refused to leave when I offered you the opportunity. You have shown the courage for which our house has often been praised."

  "Maybe, but you... You never even looked scared. I wanted to ask you something earlier, but, with the interruption... No, I won't ask now. Later. For now, I'll just say that you are not the father I remember."

  Ensel Rhe took a long, deep breath. "That is a point I will not contest."

  They left the garden behind and went to find Ingrid Kane.

  23. Melkor's Code

  "YOUR NAME, SIR?"

  Aaron was so involved in scanning the crowd of ballroom attendees he didn't realize the herald was addressing him until the man cleared his throat and asked a second time.

  Still focused on the crowd, Aaron gave it.

  "And what station shall I announce, sir?"

  Aaron's gaze drifted to the man. "Hmm. No station. Just Aaron Shepherd."

  The herald looked him up and down. "You are the one Lord Phillip appointed to lead his Department of Alchemy and Science, are you not?"

  "I'm working on a project for Lord Phillip, but I'm not sure—"

  "Very good, sir." The herald turned away, pressed a horn to his lips, and blew. The horn's noise cut through the soft hum of conversation and interrupted the orchestra's smooth crescendo. Then the herald placed the horn back under one arm and said in a loud voice, "Aaron Shepherd, Chief Alchemist of his lordship's Department of Alchemy and Science."

  A few heads turned, but nothing more.

  Aaron sauntered forward, taking his time as he scanned the faces around him. He recognized no one at first, but then saw Serena's parents standing a distance away. Verna, with Arlen at her side, had a rapt audience surrounding her. Serena was not amongst them.

  Though the orchestra played away, Aaron saw no one dancing. He wondered if the current melody did not suit such activity, though he'd no experience to know one way or another. He also noticed very few people eating. He took a reading with his encorder, noting the presence here of the engine's radiation. Not nearly as strong as in the chamber, but detectable and having an obvious effect on everyone. He still wore his suppressor beneath his coat, though he had it switched off for the moment.

  At the other side of the room, he saw the earl's chair. Seeing it empty, and knowing no one was coming to sit in it, reminded Aaron of the ridiculousness of continuing on with this celebration. The chancellor stood near the chair, smiling and greeting any who came near. Part of Aaron realized the need for such decorum, but another part wanted to grab the man and shake him until he agreed to start evacuating people. He was considering presenting his case to the chancellor one more time when the approach of a very pretty girl distracted him.

  "Hello," the girl said. "You're Aaron, aren't you?"

  He nodded, recognizing Emily Stewart, whom he'd met while with Serena. She'd her hair up in an assortment of curls and wore a soft yellow dress with sparkles of silver sewn into the fabric. Light blues, greens, and the occasional yellow like Emily's seemed the colors of choice f
or the earl's coronation celebration. Others, those of the aristocracy or in close relation, wore whites and purples. Only the wait staff—and Aaron—wore black. He'd no suits available to him other than the one he'd worn to the funeral, and hadn't thought to request a tailor until it was too late.

  "I suppose you're looking for Serena?" Emily asked. She had a fluted glass in each hand. She gestured with one of them. "She's this way."

  Emily led him around the dance floor to a location opposite Serena's parents. Along the way, a gentleman and a lady, mistaking him for a waiter, tried to hand their spent glasses to him. Aaron shook his head and hurried past. Serena stood in a small ring, conversing with other girls about her age. Emily neatly fit into a small gap in their ring. She handed one drink to one of the other girls and then gestured for Serena to take notice of him. Serena excused herself as soon as a break in the conversation allowed it.

  As she detached herself from the group, Aaron found himself unable to do anything but stare.

  "I'm glad you came," she said. "I was beginning to wonder if..." She narrowed her gaze at him. "What in the world are you staring at?"

  "Huh? Oh! Ah, nothing. I mean, you." Aaron felt his face turning red. "I mean...nothing."

  The first time Aaron had laid eyes on Serena he'd taken little notice of her, but only because he'd just escaped death at the hands of Krosus and his hell hounds. Since then, he'd grudgingly admitted to himself that, annoyances aside, Serena was pretty. But not until the present moment had he thought her dazzling. He tried to answer her question with something resembling a coherent sentence, but his thoughts kept getting muddled by the blue sheen of her dress, her bare shoulders, and the featherlight curls of her blonde hair.

  "Planning on answering me sometime this evening?" she asked, a glint of amusement in her crystal blue eyes.

  "Yes," he said. He looked at her with a quizzical expression. "What was the question again?"

  She let out a huff. "What made you decide to come?"