The Complete Chosen Trilogy (The Chosen #0)

by N. M. Santoski

  She smiled at him and nodded, still listening to her chattering friends. Manas made his way swiftly to the door through which Pyrrhus and Gia had escaped, knowing his father was watching his every move.

  “This is it, Captain—to your place,” Artifex said under his breath.

  She gave no visible acknowledgement of his words, but after a handful of moments she stepped out of the room as well.

  ***

  Gia was glad she’d opted for her far less fashionable flats as she ran behind Pyrrhus down through a series of twists and turns. Though the pressure on the back of her neck was building as they made their way below ground, she pushed it to the back of her mind. There was no time for it now.

  Pyrrhus refused to look back to see if she was keeping up—he knew she would, even if the length of her legs was half of his. Nolan was depending on them, and they would deliver. They had to.

  They passed the last archway and into the final hallway. They could hear Nolan already. Exchanging terrified looks, they put on a burst of speed and covered the last hundred yards in a sprint.

  Nolan and Jenkins were standing in the middle of an empty room, a sword lying haphazardly on the floor in the corner. Rebecca was already there.

  “Where is the real Sword, Selocrim?” Nolan snapped.

  “Not here. Your trip has been for nothing. The guards are on their way as we speak. You’re finished, Aeron, and you’ve dragged them down with you.” She tsked mockingly. “The future of the Council—a third of them, tried for treason and executed. What a shame.”

  Nolan activated his numina, bathing the room in blue light. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  In that moment, several things happened at once. From the doorway, Manas summoned a wave of mud to trap Gia completely, knocking her out of the fight. Nolan attempted to hit Rebecca, who dodged and deftly sent a large blast of plasma at Jenkins, blasting him across the room and into the wall, where he slid to the floor, motionless.

  “There, now the odds are evened out,” Manas said, circling around to stand next to Rebecca.

  “Hardly,” Pyrrhus drawled.

  “Pyrrhus, you disappoint me. I thought you were on our side.”

  Pyrrhus ignited his hands and took up a defensive position next to Nolan. “I’ve had a change of heart.”

  “Tigers don’t change their stripes that easily. You may have fooled Aeron, but you can’t fool me. You’re a member of the Old Guard, Pyrrhus.”

  “Pyrrhus, they’re trying to stall us,” Nolan said, fighting the urge to check on Gia or his uncle. They were on their own this time. Instead, he taunted Rebecca, knowing they were running out of time. “Where is the Sword? Couldn’t get it to obey you, Selocrim? Not pure enough for it?”

  With a snarl, Rebecca jumped at Nolan. Pyrrhus dove between them, spitting fire from his fists as he took Rebecca on.

  That left Manas.

  “Rematch?” Manas said lazily as they began to circle each other for the second time in a year.

  “You’re outmatched, Manas. Give up.”

  “You’re in my house, Aeron. You’ve already lost. You should have left the moment you realized the Sword was a fake.”

  “You’re right.” Nolan was flicking plasma left and right, attempting to catch Manas out, but it was no use. They were underground, surrounded by Manas’ element. His only hope was to bluff.

  “Been having trouble controlling the soil, Manas? Seems like you’re struggling.”

  “Your girlfriend doesn’t seem to think I’m struggling. She should begin running out of air in a few minutes.”

  “By then, we’ll be long gone. Where is the Sword?”

  “Somewhere you’ll never find it.” Manas raised a wave of dirt and began barraging him with it, backing him into a corner.

  Meanwhile, Pyrrhus was practically skipping around the room, nimbly dodging every bit of plasma Rebecca threw his way.

  “Stand still, you clown!”

  “I’ve been practicing with the Swordsmith, dear lady,” he laughed. “You’re nothing compared to him.” He pretended to yawn, hoping against hope that Nolan would manage to knock out Manas so they could focus on Rebecca. She was the only one who knew for sure where the Sword was.

  Rebecca shook her bracelets down her wrists, letting them catch the light. “Does your Swordsmith have these?”

  “Tasteful, but a bit medieval for Nolan’s taste, I think.”

  In a flash of sickly yellow light, the cuffs filled with plasma.

  Pyrrhus took one look at them and began to run. She gave chase, laughing the whole way. It was only after she fired a shot at him that she realized what he’d done.

  Dodging her attack perfectly, the ball of plasma hit the dirt imprisoning Gia instead with deadly force. The dirt absorbed most of the shock, barely cracking across the top. Slowly, a chunk of hardened soil crumbled and exposed her face, letting her gasp for air. She was still trapped, but with access to her numina, she wouldn’t stay trapped for long.

  Triumphant, Pyrrhus looked to where Jenkins had been lying, but he was no longer there. Before he could investigate, Rebecca had recharged and came at him swinging.

  Manas had Nolan cornered—again. The second Nolan’s back touched the wall, Manas made his move. He pulled the dirt of the walls forward in an instant, wrapping around Nolan’s torso and thighs and holding him in place.

  Struggling did nothing—the dirt spilled down over his arms and pinned them as well, leaving him completely defenseless.

  “Nolan!” Pyrrhus cried, but that moment of distraction was all Rebecca needed. She hit Pyrrhus with a fistful of Power and he dropped like a stone.

  Gia said nothing, but tripled her efforts to free herself.

  “Face it, Aeron—I’m superior and I always have been. When I bring your head to my father, this will finally be over,” Manas said, slowly pulling dirt from the opposite wall and forming something indistinct in front of him.

  “You’re an idiot. This is bigger than you think, Manas!”

  Ignoring Nolan’s words, he brought his hands together over the mass of dirt hovering in the air and curved them over the top. Then, with one swift motion, he threw his hands apart, flinging leftover mud away to reveal an almost perfect replica of the Sword of the Nine, shaped by Manas’ numina.

  Manas took the mock Sword in one hand and gestured with the other, lowering the dirt covering Nolan just enough that his neck was completely exposed.

  “Apt, really, that you die this way—a way considered honorable by our ancestors. You were a worthy opponent. The Artifex will reign as Swordsmiths after you bleed out onto the ground. Maybe I’ll use mud made with your blood to offer myself to the gods as your replacement!” He brought the sword up with a jerk, stopping it only an inch from Nolan’s head.

  Nolan never flinched.

  Furious, Manas closed the gap and dragged the tip of the sword across Nolan’s face from eyebrow to cheek, flaying open the skin around his left eye. Nolan groaned through gritted teeth as Manas caught some of the rapidly flowing blood and applied it to his hands.

  Rebecca knelt on the floor and grabbed a stunned Pyrrhus by the hair, holding him up just enough to see Nolan’s maimed face. She lowered her lips to his ear, delight audible in every syllable as she said one short sentence:

  “Watch your Swordsmith die.”

  “Goodbye, Nolan,” Manas said, grasping the hilt with both bloodied hands, and he swung.

  Nolan tilted his head up through the blood, determined to meet death without blinking.

  A blur of movement came between him and the sword at the last moment, and Nolan screamed as his uncle slumped to the floor before Manas.

  Shocked, Manas let his hands fall to his sides, releasing his grip on his numina as he lost his concentration. The Artifex sword disintegrated, and Nolan and Gia were free. Rebecca took two steps backward and fled the room, leaving Pyrrhus to try staggering to his feet, still uncoordinated.

  Nolan ignored it all. He drop
ped to his knees by Jenkins’ side, desperately clamping his hands over the gaping wound in his neck. His own blood dripped in a steady stream, mingling with his uncle’s.

  “Uncle Robert…”

  Jenkins moved his jaw once or twice, his eyes already glassy. There were no final words, no heartfelt goodbyes—just the look in his eyes as he confirmed that Nolan was still alive. He blinked once before his entire body tensed, his feet jittering slightly, then he was still.

  Gia knelt in the pool of blood, feeling for a pulse.

  “Nolan.” The defeat in her voice told him all he needed to know.

  Nolan shook his head sharply, feeling his numina surge in response to his rage and grief. His hand snapped up, reaching for Manas.

  Murder.

  Manas fled the room with Nolan hot on his heels, throwing a wall of rock in front of the doorway to trap them in.

  Nolan bounced off of the wall and began attacking the rock with furious intensity, his knuckles soon bloodied and raw. Gia went to Pyrrhus’ side and attempted to pull him to his feet, but he was too tall for her to help.

  “Nolan, we have to get out of here,” she said, letting Pyrrhus slump back onto the floor. “The guards will bring Artifex and the rest of the Council here any moment, and they will put all three of us to death on the spot. We have to go.”

  “No!”

  She stepped in front of the rock, her hands outstretched. “Nolan, please. I know—“

  He grabbed her by the shoulders, fingers digging painfully into her collarbone. He looked more than half mad, glaring at her through the blood still pouring down his face. She stood her ground, even when his hands began to spark. “I will not leave without his head.”

  “Nolan.” Pyrrhus was dragging himself along the floor, clearly in pain. “We will avenge his death, I promise you that. But not today.”

  “I can’t—“

  “We will die if we stay,” Pyrrhus said fiercely, finally able to get to his knees. “We have to go. Now.”

  Nolan’s eyes began to darken again, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I can’t… I can’t lose anyone else. How are we going to get out of here?”

  “The only way out I can see is up,” Gia said, looking at the ceiling. “Do you remember what’s above us, Pyrrhus?”

  “It’s either the kitchen or the patio.”

  Nolan considered it. “Either way, it’s a decent shot.”

  “Either way, it’s the only way we can go,” Gia said. “Pyrrhus? You good?”

  He began to rub his hands together, building up what looked like a pool of lava in his palms. “Stand back.”

  They did so, pulling Jenkins’ body out of the way and protecting it.

  Pyrrhus refused to look back... He knew he would break. Instead, he took in several heaving breaths and began to form the hottest fireball he'd ever constructed. Nolan and Gia backed up against the far wall as the noise outside the sealed door grew louder.

  He could feel the sleeves of his dress shirt smoldering, but paid it no attention. When he felt that he could barely contain it any longer, he pushed it up against the ceiling.

  Gia pulled Nolan down against the floor and built a protective bubble of cooler air, trying to keep the heat back. Pyrrhus had to heat the rock ceiling up enough to melt it. Science wasn't her favorite class, but she did know that fire hot enough to create magma was certainly hot enough to kill them. She succeeded in holding back the worst of the heat, but they were both sweating and dangerously close to overheating. It wasn’t going to be enough.

  Nolan was trying to contain his anger... and his despair. No matter where he looked, his uncle's body hovered on the edges of his vision as Gia tried to protect it, too. Gia reached out her hand and he took it, squeezing relentlessly. Realizing that she couldn’t do it alone, Nolan pushed his pain down and summoned a bailey, keeping Gia’s cool air from interacting with the heat of Pyrrhus’s magma.

  "Almost..." Pyrrhus said with a grunt, hissing as melting rock struck him on the arms and face. He was impervious to heat, but it was still an uncomfortable sensation at the rock slowly cooled against his skin.

  With a pop and a sudden displacement of air, the fire broke through to the outside, just wide enough to fit one person at a time. The cold January air poured through the hole, its density pulling it down to the floor and dropping the temperature in the room almost immediately.

  “It’s safe,” Pyrrhus said after a moment.

  Nolan dropped the bailey as Gia got to her feet and summoned a swirl of cold air, running it along the edges of the tunnel Pyrrhus had created and solidifying the rock once again.

  "You go first, Gia—can you create a vortex that will pull us up?" Pyrrhus asked.

  "I'll—we'll make it work," she said, standing directly under the hole. "I'll try that first—I'm not sure my wings will fit."

  They felt the wind pick up into what Nolan could only call a small tornado, and Gia slowly began to rise upwards.

  As her feet disappeared, Pyrrhus turned to Nolan. "We have to leave Dr. Jenkins here."

  "What? Absolutely not!"

  "We'll never be able to carry him and get ourselves away. He died for you—the least you can do is escape with your life. You’ve already lost quite a bit of blood."

  "Pyrrhus," Nolan said, ashamed to feel the tears rising. "Please—isn't there anything...?"

  "No," he said, brutal in his honestly. "You'll have to count on Warrington's sense of honor and hope he returns the body."

  "He has no honor!"

  "Are you guys ready?" Gia hissed down through the tunnel. "I'm on the south lawn, but I don't know how long we have!"

  Pyrrhus reached down and put his hand over Jenkins' eyes, closing them. "Ignis egressus est ignis remanet," he chanted softly, looking sadder than Nolan had ever seen him. He repeated himself three times, the rhythm of the words soothing to Nolan, though he didn't know what they meant.

  "Guys!"

  Pyrrhus shoved Nolan into place, and Gia slowly brought him to the surface. He closed his eyes, but the last image of his uncle was burned into the back of his eyelids, and would be for some time to come.

  ***

  When Michael reached the sealed door, he could taste victory, and it was sweet. Manas was standing there with an entire contingent of guards, waiting for him.

  "Father."

  Michael ignored him. With a sweep of his arms, he dropped the rock wall blocking the door and strode into the room, ready to subdue a furious trio of traitors. Instead, he found a single dead body, and not the one he was hoping for. He stood for a moment in silence, completely taken aback. He looked up at the ceiling, where a few snowflakes were beginning to drift through a hole that hadn't been there that morning. He knelt next to the body, checking for a pulse.

  "Get out," he said to the guards, grabbing Manas by the arm as he tried to follow.

  When the room was empty, he simply stood there, waiting. Manas became more and more flustered as the silence grew. "I didn't mean to," he said finally.

  "What was he doing here?"

  "Protecting Aeron. I thought he was out of the fight—Selocrim electrocuted him! When I went to cut Aeron's head off he jumped between us."

  "This is going to make things much more difficult."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I'll have to send the bones back to Keopelani as a goodwill gesture, and spin this as an assassination attempt. Aeron's accomplices will have to be tried for treason in absentina."

  "Pyrrhus?"

  "I know you were friends as children, but you aren't children anymore. He made his choice. I'll inform Azar and Arias myself. It's a shame, we'll have to start over with the younger Disanza girl, and Azar...he may have to finally take a second wife." He shook his head. "I'm getting caught in minutiae. Talk to no one about this until we get our story straight. Go change and get back to the party—Isabella has noticed your absence. I will be up shortly."

  When he was alone, he returned to the body. Water was already starting
to leech from under the eyelids, making it seem as though Robert was crying. As with all Aqua numen, Robert's body would quickly liquefy, leaving only the bones behind.

  "Robert, this is not how I wanted this to end, but you gave us no choice," he said solemnly, as if the man could hear him. "We would have left you and your sister in peace." He rose to his feet again and walked to the door, checking his stride just before he sealed the room again. With a casual gesture, he sealed the gaping hole in the ceiling.

  "Now it must be war. Many more will suffer because you could not give up the boy."

  He turned his back on the body and left.

  BOOK III

  SWORDSMITH

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The party was still in full swing when Alan felt a sharp tug on the back of his suit jacket. He turned to see Manas, looking distinctly queasy through his charming smile.

  "May I speak with you? Privately?"

  He didn't hesitate, turning back to place his hand on the nape of Leiani's neck with a tender touch. "Excuse me, darling," he said, interrupting her discussion with Trafford. "I need to step away for a moment. Trafford, keep her company for me?"

  "I've just been waiting for the right moment! A dance, my Lady?" His exaggerated bow made Leiani laugh and let Alan slip away with minimum fuss.

  He followed Manas through the side door and let him reach the first landing before stopping him. "What's going on?"

  "Your brother was here."

  "What?" He’d been sure that Nolan wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to make a grand statement. To slip in under the radar instead…

  He realized that Manas was mumbling through an explanation and forced himself to focus.

  "They snuck into the sub-tunnels. Looking for the Sword."

  "They?"

  "Your brother, Gia, Pyrrhus, and Dr. Jenkins."

  "My uncle, too?" He swallowed the betrayal with difficulty. "Did they get it?"

  "No."

  "Thank the gods for small miracles. How the hell did they get in? Are they still here?"

  Manas looked more and more ill by the moment. "No. They almost all escaped."