by Clay Kronke
Gareth opened his eyes. "Not transmitting?" he asked.
Aris frowned. "Nobody is." He checked other channels. "There's no long-range comm traffic coming out of the city at all."
"That's … not good," Gareth said, now sitting up.
"There's an old emergency channel broadcasting, but it's faint." Aris adjusted his sensors, trying to isolate the signal and boost the volume.
"…under attack," a tense voice was saying. "Repeat: we are under attack. All air traffic into the capital is being rerouted. Please follow heading two-six-one mark eight-five south to Eowall and await further instruction. All others are being advised to vacate the immediate area until the situation can be stabilized—"
Aris snapped off the transmission and angled their course directly for Aelden's capital while Gareth, now fully alert, started pulling up newsfeeds on one of the side monitors. The first image on the screen told him everything he needed to know. "Is that—?" Aris started, leaning over to look. Gareth only nodded, staring at the image of about a dozen dragons cutting through the center of the city.
The two sat in silence as images continued to scroll across the screen. Reports were still coming in, so details were vague, but the main points were all screaming confirmation of what they had already suspected: this was no weaponization of synthetic dragonfire. These were actual dragons, in a coordinated attack, defeating clearly functional shield systems to decimate a wide swath of the city.
"I can't tell if the council complex was hit," Aris said, checking his feeds again. In a few minutes, they would close enough to pick up local comm traffic, and his sensors would at the very least be able to locate where Mira was, geographically.
"Looks like everything in the municipal district south of the Duanwen was leveled." Gareth had pulled up an aerial image of the wide blackened gash that cut up through the city center and was pointing to where it all ended at the river. Aris could see where the Duanwen forked, the left leg of the river snaking down into what should have been the council complex, but what in the image was just a mass of charred blackness.
Aris was about to try Mira's comm again when he noticed the incoming transmission indicator blinking. He pulled the log up on his screen and rolled his eyes.
"What is it?" Gareth asked.
"Frakes," Aris replied, slapping at the screen. "Go ahead, this is Cobalt."
"Captain, good to hear from you," Frakes said, her voice flat.
"I'm guessing you've heard about Aelden," he said, not mentioning he was already there.
"Unfortunately, yes," her voice said. "I've got teams already on their way to assist, and I've offered the Elven High Council our full cooperation."
"How noble of you," Aris said. "Can I take this to mean you no longer need us to hunt for nonexistent dragonfire?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Cobalt?" Frakes' voice was smug. "Unfortunately, the motive remains the same regardless of the means, and I still have pieces in play."
"Yeah, about that…" Aris started.
"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about your little friend," Frakes said. "But I still have questions that need answers. Once she's played her part, she'll be free to go. "
Aris could practically hear the smug grin in her voice. "Fine," he said after a long pause. "Was there anything else?"
"Steer clear of the Sanctuary for a while," Frakes said. "Wouldn't want you to get inadvertently caught up in anything."
"I'll keep that under advisement," he said, his voice barely betraying his annoyance. "Always a pleasure, Commander. Cobalt out." He touched the screen again, terminating the transmission, then shook his head. "She's still on about the Sanctuary."
Gareth made a slight grimace. "I'm not certain she's so far off the mark."
Aris was curious despite himself. "What makes you say that?"
His tone must have come off as defensive, however, because Gareth raised his hands. "Nothing conclusive," the wizard said quickly, erring on the side of diplomacy.
The career path Aris had found himself on the last few years had become a bit of a sore subject. Aris hadn't taken his break with the Ranger Corps well at all, and while he had felt that it was the right thing to have done, he was still bitter about it. Aris didn't give loyalty lightly, and even though joining the Kingsguard had made him little more than a pilot for hire, he took it and his place within it seriously, and had become very personally invested in it. "I know they got you back on your feet when you were on the outs with the Rangers," Gareth continued, "but I've just noticed a couple of … odd things lately that don't really add up."
"Like what?" Aris asked.
"Well," Gareth started, "Admittedly, all of it looks trivial on the surface, but after the last couple days…" He shrugged, his voice trailing off. "I don't know anymore. For example: Director Greyc."
"The Ice Queen?" Aris said.
"She's … not the easiest person to get to know," Gareth conceded. "But she's been paying more attention to me lately – not like that," he added, noticing Aris's raised eyebrows. "She's been more … scientifically curious."
"Aren't there other Acradians on staff she can bother?" Aris asked.
"I mean I understand," Gareth continued. "There aren't that many of us around, and, admittedly…" his voice trailed off.
"Your people are a scientific curiosity," Aris finished.
Gareth nodded. "Except she's been on staff for about a year. She didn't show any interest in me specifically until just recently."
"Just before all this terrorist stuff started," Aris said.
"Right," Gareth said. "And I wouldn't have thought anything about it if I hadn't wandered into the lab this morning."
"The weird dragon experiment," Aris said. "You think the two are connected?"
"I don't know," Gareth said. "The whole thing is weird. Even the culture. I mean, why aren't there any elves in this organization?"
Aris frowned. "That's a bit of a leap."
"It is, and I would have said the same thing," Gareth said. "Before today. I mean Elves are, by and large, an insular people. Mira may be an outlier, but most are happy to stay within the confines of their own society."
"I don't know about that," Aris countered. "Most elves I've met have been nothing if not welcoming and inclusive."
"Oh, for sure," Gareth nodded, agreeing. "But only when it comes to others taking part in their culture. But you rarely see elves leaving their own sphere to go be a part of someone else's."
Aris nodded. "Probably why some people see them as holier-than-thou."
"Even if incorrectly, but yes," Gareth conceded. "Before today, that's what I would've attributed the lack of elven representation to. But an attack on Aelden?" He shook his head, looking lost. "I don't know what this means. What if there is a connection?"
Aris seemed to mull it over. "I really hope it's nothing."
Gareth nodded. "You and me both." He noticed a blinking icon on Aris's screen. "Try her again, we're in range."
Aris opened a channel. "Veil, what's your status?" He sat in silence for a few seconds, listening, then tried again. After another moment, he switched over to his tactical monitor. "Checking for her transponder," he said. "There," he pointed to his screen as a green blip appeared on an overhead schematic of the council complex. It was moving outward, toward the edge of the city.
And it was moving fast.
• • •
Engulfed in darkness and almost completely submerged, Mira could see nothing and hear only the rush of water against rock as she was propelled along through the underground crevasse that was the south branch of the Duanwen river winding its way under the city. She struggled to stay near the surface and grab quick breaths as she came to air pockets within the rock but was quickly losing her sense of direction and her strength to continue holding air in her lungs as she was battered around.
&
nbsp; She hit another pocket and gulped, but only managed to inhale water. Sputtering as she tried to empty her lungs, she was plunged underwater once again, and had to force herself to keep from reflexively gasping. After a few seconds, the current straightened out a bit, and she could feel the rock drop out from under her as the crevasse widened. She threw her arms outward in all directions trying to find the water's edge, as the last tumble had left her disoriented, unable to tell which way was up, but felt her consciousness dimming as her body's oxygen ran out.
There was one final drop and Mira could feel the water calm down. After a few seconds, she was surprised when her head suddenly popped above the surface. She gulped down several lungfuls of air and relaxed her seizing muscles as she was finally able to float. After a minute, she had caught her breath and allowed herself to look around.
The crevasse had opened up into a wide chamber where the river was collecting in an underground reservoir. The ceiling of the chamber was flecked with phosphorescent blue and green, casting an ethereal shimmer over the surface of the water. Ahead, in the direction of the reduced but still steady current, a sliver of light was visible at the water's edge. The speed of the current increased as she got closer, and she twisted around and started swimming toward the opening to close the gap, realizing the river was about to exit back out into the foothills surrounding the city.
When she reached the opening, she found it wasn't as wide as she had originally assumed and wouldn't allow her to slip through. The gap was wide enough for her head, however, and she leaned in as far the water level would allow. She could see that the split in the rock wasn't even, and that water was flowing outward from several different points and converging farther out in a small pool where the river then flowed out into the forest itself. She pulled her head back in and looked around, hoping she could find another exit point that she would be able to fit through.
The only other light filtering into the chamber was directly below her. She took a breath and dove, attempting to follow the crack in the stone down into the reservoir. About a dozen feet down the current became stronger, and she felt herself being pulled toward another opening in the stone. Though what light she could see was faint, she hoped the stronger current was leading her where she needed to go, because once she was inside, the pressure would likely be too strong for her to pull herself back out.
Mira let herself float back to the surface, gave herself a minute to relax her muscles and took several long preparatory breaths to put as much oxygen into her system as possible. She took one final breath, expelled all the air out of her lungs to make herself as small as possible, then dove down to the lower opening and pulled herself in.
The current was indeed much stronger inside, and she found she didn't need to do much more than let herself be propelled along, using her arms more to guide herself along the passage and protect herself from bends and outcrops in the rock.
The current quickened and the water started churning as she began to see more light ahead. She could see the passage begin to narrow and she put her arms out in front of her to take up as little space as possible.
It wasn't enough. She got caught in the rock and she could feel the turbulence increase as the water forced its way around her. She squirmed, trying to free herself, and shoved her hands down around her waist, trying to find whatever she was snagged on.
A rock outcrop was pinching in at her hips, and she unbuckled the belt on her uniform to give her a little more space to move. Another minute of trying to shift sideways along the outcrop and she found herself free and once again being pushed through the passage. Two more tight turns and she was suddenly out in sunlight, her stomach lurching as she fell through the air, only to find herself submerged once again.
After a second she stabilized and found herself in the middle of a large pool, just under a short set of falls where the river was tumbling out of the rocky crevasse. The sun was bright on her face, the glare refracting through the mist coming off the falls. She swam to the edge of the pool, looking around. The rock formation was part of a set of foothills that rose toward the plateau of the capital in the distance. Trees surrounded the pool and lined either side of the river that led away from it, growing thicker as it snaked into the forest proper.
Pulling herself up onto the shore, she took the belt she had somehow kept a hold of and buckled it back around her waist. Opening the side compartment, she pulled out her handheld and looked it over. Though it was damp, it seemed to still work. She tapped her comm earpiece which was also, remarkably, still in place.
"Castle, please tell me you're on your way," Mira said, looking back toward the capital. Air traffic was now buzzing around the city, and thick columns of dark smoke rose into the sky along most of the northern edge. She didn't want to even imagine the extent of the damage and destruction that had been inflicted on the city. The amount of loss was staggering, and it made Mira's entire existence ache.
"We read you, Veil," Aris's voice sounded very relieved. "I'm glad you're not dead."
Mira laughed, which turned into a cough as she spat out more water. "I wasn't so sure there for a minute," she said. "I take it you know."
"We're already in atmo, looking at a square mile of scorch," Aris's voice was somber. "Heading your direction now."
"Copy that," Mira said, getting shakily to her feet and starting off down the hill for a clearing a little farther downriver.
• • •
After several minutes of nothing happening, a distinct feeling of déjà vu began washing over Petra. They had been shuffled into the building amid a hectic commotion and a cacophony of panicked voices, and she hadn't even been able to get a sense of where she was, having only the briefest glimpses of the spaces around her before being herded unceremoniously down a cold set of stone steps into a lower area. Bran had kept a hold of her hand, otherwise she wouldn't have known who she was next to as she was filed against a back wall in the unseen space.
The frenzied murmur of the group huddled together in the dark died down to a whisper as the impacts above intensified, tremors vibrating through the stone and rattling Petra's teeth, and she had simply shut her eyes and waited for it to be over. Several minutes had passed, the rumbles had quieted down, and the danger finally seemed to be over.
She looked around, her eyes adjusting. The space was dark, but there was light filtering in from the stairway directly ahead, enough that she could make sense of where she was.
She appeared to be in a basement of sorts, a low stone chamber with wide columns at regular intervals and several openings along either side, leading off into darkness. The chamber, aside from the group of people huddled around its periphery, seemed to be used for storage, as numerous stacks of boxes and crates stood in a haphazard circular rank around the center of the space.
She turned to Bran, who was sitting next to her, taking a similar visual inventory of their surroundings. "Where are we?" she asked.
"I'm not sure," he admitted. "But I heard the words sanctuary and catacombs as we were led down here."
"Sanctuary?" Petra asked, her ears pricking up at the word.
"Church," Bran clarified. "Though I'm not sure which one. It must be old, this close to the city center."
"This is the Temple of Imwe," a voice said. They looked up to see a man sitting across from them, leaning back against a stack of crates.
"You were the one we came in with," Petra said, recognizing the robed man they had met outside.
"Yes," he said. "I'm sorry, forgive me. My name is Jor. I'm one of the Brothers of the Order."
"Petra," she said, extending her hand.
Jor shook the outstretched hand. "Pleasure," he nodded, then turned to Bran, expectant.
"Branson," Bran said, taking the Brother's hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Temple of Imwe?" Petra repeated.
"Dragon worshipers," Bran said out of reflex, then tu
rned to Jor. "Sorry, didn't mean for that to sound reductive."
Jor raised a hand. "No offense taken," he said, then turned back to Petra. "He's not wrong, though a tad overly simplistic." His face brightened, and his gestures became more animated. "While we don't worship the dragons themselves, they are sacred creatures, the embodiment of the goddess Imwe. We worship her, the Spirit of the Everliving Dragon, the mother of all life."
"I don't think we're the ones you need to be proselytizing to," Bran cut in. "Your embodiments just destroyed an ancient elven city."
"Yes, that is … rather concerning," Jor said, his face ashen. "We've always viewed the destructive tendencies of the creatures as one of nature's ways of keeping itself in balance. Usually this sort of thing happens on a much – much – smaller scale, and far removed from civilization."
"Usually," Petra repeated, and the sarcasm was clear in her voice.
"But this…" Jor's voice trailed off as he looked toward the ceiling, listening to the fading rumble. "This isn't natural. Dragons have been a force for change, often causing damage, but they've never been willfully destructive. This feels angry, hateful. This feels like punishment."
"It's terrorism," Bran said. "It's meant to be punishment, though by who or against whom I don't know that anyone's figured out yet."
"That's absurd," Jor said. "Dragons are an element of nature, they can't be deployed against a target like a weapon."
Bran paused as he considered just how much he really wanted to argue with this person before ultimately deciding not to. "Maybe," he said. "But we're still stuck down here in the basement while everything's going to hell up on the surface."
"We should be safe here until the worst has passed," Jor said.
"Then what?" Petra asked, turning to Bran. "Your ship is gone and we have no way of getting offworld."
Bran shrugged, appearing more confident that he likely felt. "We'll figure something out."