“Should have expected you to make me do the dirty work,” Chernor said, grinning. His face was a mess of beard, bangs, and sideburns, and Bree couldn’t imagine how he flew without it driving him insane. The man wore no sword belt, instead hefting a long maul he’d carried on his back.
“I’ll be right there with you,” Argus said.
“You’ll be right there behind me, watching me kill everyone. Try not to pretend it’s such a difficult task.”
“Not everyone,” Olivia said, drawing her swords and standing beside Chernor. Her head only came up to his shoulder. “I’ll take down my fair share.”
Argus’s smile lasted only a moment, then he was all serious again.
“You have a job to do,” he said to Bree. “Go. Keep watch with the others. We’ll handle this just fine.”
“Understood,” Bree said, telling herself not to feel upset. She backed away as Argus put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. She glanced up and saw another Seraph waiting patiently above. One of the Wolf Squad stone throwers. The man nodded, aimed his gauntlet, and fired. A single stone shot at the door, smashing it to pieces. Chernor charged in immediately, Olivia on his heels. Argus drew his swords, saluted to Bree, and then dashed after.
The trio vanished into the dark corridor, and she wished she could follow after. Disobeying Argus would only get her reprimanded. Sighing, she lifted up into the air, just high enough to settle onto the roof of the barracks. From there she stared south, to the line of ants traveling from Porth. Time crawled along, and thankfully the skies remained clear of any sign of the knights and their golden armor. Bree tried not to be upset at being ordered to stay behind. Her experience in tight, shoulder-to-shoulder combat was nonexistent.
Varl’s men were just arriving through the broken entrance of the inner wall when the three exited the barracks. Bree held back a gasp as she floated to the ground. Blood covered Olivia’s neck, dripping from a cut on her chin. Chernor limped on his left leg, a thoroughly soaked bandage wrapped about it near the ankle. Argus had not a scratch on him.
Varl bellowed in greeting upon seeing Argus, and he clasped hands with the commander as he gestured to the surrounding wreckage.
“You made a hell of a mess,” he said. “I expect you’ll help me rebuild once we’ve taken back Weshern.”
“Only if your men help me rebuild the academy first.”
“Consider it a deal.”
“How much time do we have?” someone asked Argus as the men poured into the barracks.
“Until we’re noticed,” was his answer.
“You heard him,” Varl shouted. “That could be minutes, could be hours, so haul ass.”
He hurried inside to supervise the retrieval of the military gear. Bree gently toggled power to her wings, rising up to the top of the inner wall and setting foot upon one of the few pieces of rampart still intact. From there she scanned the horizon, and she wasn’t the only one. Several other Seraphs took position along parts of wall, so that eyes watched all directions. There was no telling when a knight might finally notice what had happened at the fort. If they were lucky, none would, not until they were all long gone.
Bree had a feeling they wouldn’t be so lucky.
The first of many exited the barracks, swords and shields in their arms. They piled the weaponry onto carts, and when those were full, they began stuffing them into bags. Bree watched them occasionally, though not for long. She’d never forgive herself if a knight approached from her direction and she were too preoccupied to spot it.
She needn’t have worried. Calls of warning came from the north, and she turned to see a single distant knight of Center flying toward him.
“Get down!” Argus shouted to the others. “See if you can get him in close enough to ambush!”
Bree hopped to the ground to avoid being seen, but she knew it was futile. The knight had already turned away, presumably to get reinforcements. The damage to the fort had been catastrophic. It wouldn’t take too much imagination to figure out what had happened. Several other Seraphs dropped, pressing against the walls or ducking behind the barracks before Argus called out for them to cease.
“We’re on a timer now,” he shouted. “Knights are on their way. Those of you on the ground, we’ll buy you the time you need, so don’t waste it.”
Argus whistled, calling the rest of his Seraphim in. Bree hovered to his side. The commander stood in the center of the gap between the two walls, and he spun to address them all.
“Reform up,” he said. “It will take too much time to summon a whole host of knights, so we’re looking at facing one or two nearby patrols. That should still give us a numbers advantage, so let’s make sure we use it. Stay grounded and hidden behind the inner wall until I give the signal. When I do, unleash hell. Show those bastards from Center how Weshern Seraphim fly.”
“Unchained!” Bree shouted, and others joined up the call.
“We fly unchained!”
Argus grinned, a hungry wolf deserving of his squad’s moniker.
“Damn right we do.”
CHAPTER
11
Kael had no way to know how long he was out. When he awoke, he was in a small, mostly empty room. He lay atop a bed, the frame of stained wood, the sheets bare white. Beside him was a similar bed. Beyond that he saw two shelves nailed to the wall above him, both currently empty, and a large trunk at the foot of the bed. Kael doubted there’d be anything of use inside it either.
A servant’s room, Kael guessed by the minimal decorations and diminutive size. There were probably many like it scattered throughout the holy mansion. Kael attempted to sit up and was immediately rewarded for his effort by a sudden, sweeping sense of vertigo.
“Holy hell,” he said as he collapsed onto his back and shut his eyes. It helped his vertigo, but also made him aware of a throbbing in his head that was growing angrier by the second. It was even worse than the ache on his face. At least both hits had missed his nose. Another good blow to it after the humiliating beatdown he received two nights ago and his face might never recover. Assuming there was even a point worrying about that right now. Still, if anyone wanted him dead, they had ample time and opportunity to do it. That he was alive at all had to be a good sign.
Well, not good, Kael decided. Hopeful, maybe. It might also mean he had a future of constant torture and depravation awaiting him, but that was a fate he tried very, very hard to ignore in his mind as he forced his eyes back open. Swinging his feet off the bed, he more stumbled than walked to the door, his movements like a controlled fall. Thudding against the thick wood of the door, he tried the handle, found it refused to budge.
Locked from the outside. Of course it was locked from the outside. Did he really think the Speaker and his soldiers would be so stupid? Staggering back to the bed, Kael collapsed onto his back, closed his eyes, and let his mind drift. No sense panicking, and with no windows and a single locked door, no point stressing out trying to escape. Besides, there was likely a guard posted on the other side, assuming the Speaker was the slightest bit worried about him escaping. Best he rest, and recover, for whatever might lay ahead.
Time passed. Kael drifted in and out of sleep. His headache lessened, and for that he was grateful. The long wait steadily wore at him, the fear of the unknown like a poison slowly dripping into his veins. When the headache subsided enough he could think clearly, and he was able to stand without vertigo, Kael paced the five steps from one side of the room to the other. Remain calm, he told himself. Remain calm...
A voice spoke on the other side of the door, coupled with a sudden turning of the handle. Kael retreated to the bed, fighting off a spike of panic. Had they finally come to kill him? Transfer him to a proper prison? Or merely investigate the reason for his being in the mansion?
The door swung all the way open. Kael had expected a knight, perhaps one of Clara’s brothers, but instead in walked Marius Prakt himself. The Speaker for the Angels wore no armor, and he carried no weapon. Inste
ad he wore his long red robes, adorned by a single black sash tied about his waist. No soldier accompanied him as he shut the door and stood, arms crossed, blocking the way. Face a perfect, emotionless mask, he stared at Kael, saying nothing. Analyzing him, Kael believed. Reading him like one would a book. Refusing to be the first to talk, Kael sat on the bed and tried to look equally emotionless. Here he was, the leader of the theocracy of Center. The question was, what did he want with Kael?
“I’d like us to have a talk, you and I,” Marius said. “Do you think we can do that?”
Kael gestured to the empty room.
“I’m your prisoner,” he said. “What choice do I have?”
Marius slowly shook his head, disappointed.
“You have more choice than you know,” he said, arms still crossed. “You could scream and holler like a wild animal. You could shove your fingers into your ears, close your eyes, and sing the verses to ‘Crystal Waters’ at the top of your lungs. Or you could sit quietly and listen to what I have to say. Many choices, Kael. Just because a choice is foolish doesn’t mean the choice ceases to exist.”
Kael accepted the reproof, mildly confused. Was that why the Speaker had come? To lecture him?
“I’m right here,” Kael said. “So if you want to talk, go ahead and talk.”
“I want us to talk,” Marius said. “That means I speak, and you listen, and then when you speak, I also will listen. Communication, my child. Open, honest communication. That is what I desire. Now remind yourself that I could have had you executed in your sleep hours ago, and show me the decency and respect I deserve.”
Kael shifted farther away from the Speaker, sitting at the head of the bed. Marius’s presence...it was so strong. The man exuded authority, but it wasn’t overwhelming like Johan’s. Instead Marius seemed pleasant, almost welcoming. Even when he berated Kael, he never outwardly appeared upset, nor did his tone shift all that much.
“All right, then,” Kael said. “Let’s talk. So what are we to talk about?”
Arms no longer crossed, Marius slowly paced before the door. Kael found it strangely amusing seeing the Speaker for the Angels, the most powerful man alive, walking those same five steps Kael had walked hours before.
“I want us to talk about Weshern,” Marius said. “I want to talk about your people, and what you yourself believe. Right now, it seems everything has twisted and turned upside down, and I can no longer make sense of what I see and hear. Riots? Killings? Rebellion? Have your people gone mad?”
There was no telling what Marius knew, and what he was hunting for, so Kael chose his words carefully. Right now, he was merely the brother of the Phoenix, and friends with Clara. Marius should be ignorant of him and his sister’s role with the growing rebellion. If he did suspect it, he lacked proof, which might be enough to escape the situation alive.
“You’re right,” Kael said. “We are mad. We’re mad at the injustice you’ve performed against us, manipulating our people, stripping away our land and giving it to foreigners.”
The words didn’t represent his own heart, but it was a common grievance of his fellows, and Kael was curious how the Speaker might respond to the accusation.
“Injustice?” Marius scoffed. “Yes, tell me more about your injustice. More than fifty thousand dead, their entire people and way of life destroyed in an instant, yet my handing them a single town on Weshern soil is a grievance worthy of riots and vandalism? Do you all forget that it is Weshern who’s responsible for Galen’s collapse in the first place?”
Kael failed to keep the indignation out of his voice.
“We’re not responsible,” he said. “And no one believes you when you claim we are.”
Marius’s calm veneer finally slipped. Kael had expected anger, derision. What he did not expect was complete and utter exasperation.
“Johan’s lies,” he said. “They’re spreading, aren’t they? Let me take a guess, Kael. You think we sent Galen crumbling to the ground, don’t you? The absurdity of it all. That’d be like slaughtering your eldest son just to ensure your other four children obey.”
His every word was far more believable than Kael anticipated. It made him uncomfortable, and he tried to cling to the rest of the evidence as he understood it.
“But what about overthrowing the Willers?” he said. “What about your presence here, the disbandment of our Seraphim, and the stationing of troops and knights?”
“An island died!” Marius said. His voice rose only the tiniest bit, but it was enough to fill Kael with an impulse to kneel. Every syllable was overwhelmed with earnestness. Every word felt like a request for Kael to understand, and believe.
“How stubborn and blind must your people be?” Marius continued. Kael had a feeling the Speaker’s words were no longer just for him. “An entire island, one of six our entire race has left to survive upon, has vanished beneath the Endless Ocean. Yet you people want to argue over a little stretch of land? Your former Seraphim want to rebel, and for what? Promises of freedom you never lost, and the release of a royal family I would release on my own once matters settled? A royal family whom I never even took from Weshern, instead leaving them imprisoned in their own home as a matter of good faith?”
Kael tried to stay strong against Marius’s arguments. He tried to tell himself Weshern was in the right, and Center the aggressive, lying invader.
It wasn’t working.
“How petty you must be,” Marius continued. “How small your world truly is. You think this is about power? About conquest? With but a word I dismantled your Seraphim and scattered your army, and you face only a fraction of my total might. If I wanted to rule Weshern, I’d have conquered Weshern, not sent Galen crashing down.”
Kael swallowed down a sudden knot in his throat.
“Then why are your soldiers here?” he asked.
“You have to understand, we are not the enemy,” Marius said. “My theotechs are not the enemy. What everyone seems to have forgotten, what everyone refuses to acknowledge, is that what happened to Galen could happen here, and I have every reason to believe Weshern will be the next target.”
Kael frowned.
“The next target?” he asked. “Whose next target?”
The Speaker shook his head.
“I’ve already said enough, and anything more would be beyond your understanding. You must believe me, I want to keep the people of this island safe, and not just this island, but all remaining five. Humanity must survive. Five centuries ago we escaped complete annihilation. Trust me when I say all I do, I do to ensure we last centuries more. This fledgling resistance only puts everyone’s lives at risk. We aren’t leaving, Kael. We’re going to stay until I know the threat is passed, and punish every guilty soul I must to ensure this tragedy is never repeated.”
Kael fought to keep his face passive. Whatever zeal he held against Center felt irrational now, impotent against the Speaker’s claims.
“So you’re trying to keep us safe,” he said. “So you’re not responsible for Galen’s fall. Then tell me who is. You’ve already let it slip that more is going on than just us fighting a battle against Galen without asking for permission.”
Marius stared at him with those sapphire eyes, not flinching, not hesitating for a moment.
“I cannot tell you,” he said.
Of course not. Kael shook his head, disappointed.
“Then how did Galen fall? We’ve always been told the Beam cannot be broken.”
Silence was the only answer Marius offered.
“What about the elements?” Kael said. “Another secret you keep from us. Why won’t you tell us how they’re made?”
“The people are better off in their ignorance,” Marius said. “Secrets become secrets for a reason, Kael, and it is not always because of power.”
Kael pushed off the bed and onto his feet. He strode right up to Marius, determined to look the man in the eye. The Speaker would have no excuses for refusing to answer this final question. The other th
ings he could claim the world was better for not knowing, or that the scope went beyond Kael’s understanding, but not this.
“Your theotechs tried to have me and my sister captured after her first battle against Galen,” he said. “I want to know why.”
Marius stared at him, silence again the answer.
“You know,” Kael said, meeting that gaze. “You know, and you won’t answer. You tell me to trust you, then refuse to give a single answer to any of my questions. That’s not how you garner trust, Speaker. It’s how you hide.”
“Kael,” Marius said softly, “I am giving you one last chance. There is an entire world beyond your knowledge, and for the sake of your island, you must believe me. Will you accept reason, or will you cling to the comforting conspiracies of the rabble?”
Kael tried to decide what he believed. Much of what Johan had insisted didn’t sound so certain when rebuffed by the Speaker, yet Marius was still clearly hiding so much. If he’d wanted to keep Weshern safe, why not work with the Willers instead of deposing them? And no amount of insistence would ever convince Kael that the many secrets Marius kept were better off as secrets than as open knowledge.
“You’ve come here to claim power over us,” Kael said, wishing he believed as firmly as his words made it sound. “Nothing you’ve told me has convinced me otherwise.”
Marius sighed.
“A shame,” he said. “Such a shame. I’d hoped to avoid this unpleasantness. If you’d just listened, and stopped being so stubborn, you might have saved your sister’s life.”
“What are you talking about?” Kael asked, putting on a brave face despite his heart hammering in his chest. He took a step back, scanning the room for anything he might use as a weapon. The closest was the blankets of the bed, which would be good only for entangling the man, or maybe strangling him at best.
“I sent your sister a request for an audience,” Marius continued. He didn’t move to follow Kael’s retreat to the other side of the room, instead remaining at the door. “I’d hoped she might be here with you to listen, but after tonight’s display I find that doubtful. She’s not coming, and you won’t convince her, either. So be it. If she dies during the raid, we’ll endure. We have you, after all.”
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