by Clayton Wood
“Your former government wasn't stupid enough to let Ampir keep his armor a secret from them,” he explains. “They forced him to submit blueprints for his armor for military intelligence.”
“Uh huh,” Sabin mutters. “And you really believe he gave accurate blueprints? You can’t be that naïve.”
“I do,” Gunthar retorts. “And I happen to have a contact in your Empire that received a very large reward for providing me with those blueprints.”
“So?”
“So after you finished designing the Behemoths, I had a second team of Runics use those blueprints to add some...modifications to your original design.”
“You what?” Sabin exclaims. “You couldn't have,” he protests. “I know every inch of those machines!” But Gunthar only smirks.
“Apparently not,” he replies. Sabin can only stare at the man, his mind spinning with the ramifications of Gunthar's betrayal. Finally, he finds his tongue.
“You can't attack the Empire,” he protests. “My entire family lives there!” And it's true; his sister, her children, and his mother live in Stridon, along with almost everyone he's ever cared about.
Including Vera.
“And that,” Gunthar replies, “...is why the Empire is, and always will be, your country.” He sighs then, staring at the rock wall to his side. “At least until it is destroyed.”
“Why?” Sabin asks. “The Resistance is almost finished with its mission! Verhan is ours for the taking...we can reclaim our land, free our people! Send the Behemoths to Verhan instead, like we planned!”
“You're not thinking of the long game,” Gunthar retorts. “As long as the Empire exists, it will never stop threatening my people. A victory at Verhan would only encourage the Empire to mount a massive counterattack, to destroy the government that dared to rise up against it. The only way to be free from the Empire's tyranny and corruption is to destroy it once and for all.”
“This is madness,” Sabin declares, throwing up his hands. “Millions of innocent people live in Stridon, people that had nothing to do with any of this! If you kill all of them, you'll be no better than the Empire!”
“Sabin,” Gunthar says with a sigh. “You're an idealist. I understand this must be difficult for you. Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate everything you've done for us...I really do.”
“What are you saying?”
“The Empire is doomed,” Gunthar answers. “My Behemoths and airships will launch tonight, and arrive at your Empire this evening. Stridon and eleven other major cities will be destroyed, and the Imperialists will be crushed.” He shrugs then. “After which your extraordinarily valuable services will no longer be required.”
“You can't be serious,” Sabin protests. “I'm as much a part of the Resistance as anyone else here! You wouldn't even have the Behemoths if it weren't for me!” He throws up his hands. “And now you're just going to let me go?”
“Goodness no,” Gunthar retorts. “I wouldn't think of doing such a thing with a man as valuable as yourself.” There is a knock on the door then. “Ah, right on time,” Gunthar declares. “Come in.”
The door opens, and two guards – Gunthar's personal Weavers – walk through, Witt standing between them. The young man looks terrified, his eyes glued to the floor.
“Witt,” Sabin greets. “What's wrong? Are you alright?”
“Oh, he's fine,” Gunthar says. Then he nods at the guards. Witt jerks forward suddenly, arching his back, his eyes widening. He cries out, and then the front of his shirt bulges outward in the middle of his chest. A maroon stain appears there, spreading rapidly, and the front of his shirt rips, revealing the bloodstained tip of a blade. The blade retracts, and one of the guards shoves Witt forward. The young Runic falls toward the ground, his head slamming against the rock wall on the way down. He collapses in a heap, a bloody puddle growing around his limp body.
“Witt!” Sabin cries, bursting out of his seat and kneeling at Witt’s side.
“Ah well,” Gunthar murmurs. “I suppose I spoke too soon.”
“You killed him!” Sabin gasps in horror. He turns to Gunthar, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why?”
“I ordered him not to reveal my plans,” Gunthar replies. “He disobeyed said order. That is treason, and the punishment for treason is death.” He gestured down at Witt's body. “And that is what death looks like.”
“He was just a boy,” Sabin protests. “You're a monster!”
“He was a man,” Gunthar counters. “And I treated him like one until he betrayed me. And now, because of his betrayal, I have to deal with you.”
“Deal with me?” Sabin asks, his eyes widening. He rises to his feet, backing away from Witt’s corpse, feeling his back strike the cold stone wall behind him. He glances at Gunthar, then back at the guards, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Relax,” Gunthar urges, his voice soothing. “I'm not going to kill you. I am a man of the law, not a despot like your Grand Runic Nespo. The only crime you’re guilty of is the involuntary acquisition of classified information...and, given your defiant outbursts, insubordination.”
“Not a despot?” Sabin declares incredulously, pointing at Witt's lifeless body. “You murdered my best student in cold blood!”
“I had him executed as the law requires,” Gunthar retorts calmly. “Keep in mind that he was well aware of the law – and the consequences of breaking it – before he ever chose to.” He nods at the guards then. “Take him away,” he orders. “Place him in prison until his sentencing.” He grimaced then, gesturing at Witt’s body. “And get somebody to clean up this mess.” The guards turn on Sabin, grabbing his arms and pulling him away from Gunthar, out of the small office. Sabin resists, digging his heels into the stone floor.
“Wait,” he pleads. “What if you're wrong? What if you don't kill Ampir? He'll come after you!”
“Oh I don't think so,” Gunthar retorts. “My army has been instructed to make it very clear who designed and constructed their Behemoths.” He smiles. “Very clever, to put your symbol on each of them. If they fail, Ampir won't be coming after me...he'll be coming for you.”
“You son of a bitch!”
“You'll be interested to know,” Gunthar adds as Sabin is pulled forcibly down the hallway away from him, “...that I will be having one team specifically target Ampir's wife and child. Such a simple strategy, yet so effective.” He raises one hand, chopping it downward in a straight line. “Divide,” he murmurs, “...and conquer.”
* * *
Kyle felt something tapping at his shoulder, and he opened his eyes, blinking against the bright sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. He rubbed the crust from his eyes, and saw Ariana standing at his bedside, her hand on his shoulder.
“Come on,” she urged. “Get up.” By her tone, it wasn't the first time she'd said it.
“Oh, hey,” Kyle mumbled. He propped himself up in bed, squinting at her. “What's up?”
“We need to go,” she replied, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of bed. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Don't forget the bomb,” she reminded him. “And hurry,” she added, turning about and walking out of his room. He watched her go, then yawned, stretching his arms over his head and dropping them to his lap.
“Alrighty then,” he muttered.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, hopping off and getting dressed. He checked the backpack he'd stowed in the corner of the room, finding the bomb safely tucked within. He shoved it in his pocket, then made his way through the wide hallways of Petra's parents' house, eventually reaching the large staircase to the first floor. When he took a turn into the main room – the one the family had congregated in yesterday – he found it completely empty. A coffee table in front of one of the couches lay shattered on the floor, split right down the middle. Splinters were strewn across the family room in front of it.
“What the...” he began, then felt a hand on his
shoulder. He turned around, seeing Ariana there. He gestured at the broken table. “What happened here?”
“I'll tell you, but don't say anything,” she replied. Kyle nodded. “I spent all night thinking about what Kalibar said,” she continued.
“About what?”
“Don't say anything,” she reminded him. “I was thinking about how the bomb might end up killing Petra's family, and the other tribes. Most of the family was here this morning,” she continued, gesturing at the large family room. “So I sat on the couch there, and was talking with Petra's mother. Then I stood up and pretended to be possessed by Xanos.”
“You...”
“Shush,” Ariana scolded, making Kyle grimace. “I said that something big was coming, and that the tribes were in danger. The Immortals must return to their creator, and the tribes had to evacuate, or they would surely be destroyed.”
“Oh,” Kyle blurted, his eyes widening. “Oh!”
“Kalibar translated for me. I wasn't getting the response I wanted, so I pretended to pass out, and fell into the table.”
“You broke it?” he asked. Ariana nodded.
“With my face,” she replied rather proudly. “It was very convincing.”
“I'll say,” Kyle muttered, staring at the shattered furniture.
“Anyway, Kalibar played along. The whole family got spooked, and they've been packing up and traveling to the other tribes to warn them ever since.”
“Ariana, that's...” Kyle began, then stopped himself, shaking his head. It was absolutely brilliant, is what it was!
“I know,” she replied with a smile. She pulled him away from the room then, back toward the foyer. “Come on, we'd better get going.”
“Where?”
“Petra's going to take us to the cave like she promised,” she explained. “Kalibar's waiting with her outside.”
“She isn't evacuating?”
“No,” Ariana confirmed. “I told them the Immortals had to return to their creator, remember?”
“Right,” he replied. “Wow.”
“I know, right?”
Kyle shook his head in wonder; Ariana had always been clever, but this was a stroke of pure genius. Unable to say so, he hugged her, then let her lead him out the front door and onto the path beyond. A hundred or so feet ahead, they found Kalibar talking with Petra. The Grand Weaver was once again covered from head to toe in mud; Petra had been serious about not letting him have a Reaper suit...not that any of hers would've fit him.
“The tribes shouldn't all evacuate to one place,” Kalibar was saying. “I think they should spread out at the edges of the forest, just in case this is a trap.”
“A trap?” Petra replied, clearly unconvinced. “The Immortals would not harm us.”
“Yes, well,” Kalibar muttered. “I don't trust them.” Then he saw Ariana approaching, and smiled. “Except for this one, of course.”
“Hi dad,” Ariana greeted. “I told him,” she added, gesturing at Kyle. Petra frowned.
“What did she say?”
“Kyle knows what happened,” Kalibar answered. He turned to Ariana then. “You're sure you're alright?”
“I'm fine,” Ariana insisted. Kalibar turned to Petra.
“And you're sure you still want to do this?”
“I gave my word,” Petra declared. “I will take Ariana to her creator.” She turned then, striding away from them and into the forest, gesturing for them to follow her. Kyle glanced at Kalibar, who appeared rather preoccupied with Petra's retreating form. He smiled, thinking back to what the old man had said so long ago, when Kyle had first met him...that men never outgrew their fascination with such things. He glanced at Ariana, who had clearly located the source of Kalibar's curiosity, and appeared rather exasperated with it. Perhaps women never outgrew their frustration at men's fascination with their particulars either.
“How far away is the cave?” Kalibar inquired, catching up with Petra and walking at her side.
“Up the mountain,” she replied.
“What distance?” Kalibar pressed.
“I haven't measured it,” came the deadpan reply.
“Is it filled with the same gas as the cave Ariana went into?” Kalibar asked. They'd concluded that there must be a poisonous gas throughout the cave, after Kyle's success in navigating it while holding his breath. Petra nodded.
“Anyone who goes inside dies in the same way,” she confirmed.
“That could complicate things,” Kalibar murmured. “We'll have to create a large gravity sphere to trap air inside before going in.”
“A good idea,” Petra opined. Kalibar raised an eyebrow at her, and she frowned. “What?”
“I wasn't expecting praise,” Kalibar replied with a mischievous grin. “I'm speechless.”
“That was my intention,” Petra shot back, giving him a little smirk. Kalibar chuckled, and Kyle caught Ariana glancing at him. Kyle frowned, and Ariana cocked her head at Kalibar and Petra, arching an eyebrow. Kyle shrugged.
“You hardly have to speak to leave me that way,” Kalibar replied smoothly, keeping his eyes straight forward. Petra's eyes widened, and she glared at him. Kyle thought he saw her cheeks turn a little pink, but it was hard to tell with her dark skin.
“Not speaking might be best for you,” she grumbled, increasing her pace. This had the unintended effect of leaving Kalibar behind, giving him an unfettered view of hers.
“What is that around your neck?” Kalibar asked. Petra didn't slow down, forcing Kalibar – and everyone else – to speed up just to keep up with her. Petra ignored the question at first, but when Kalibar let the question hang in the air, she stopped, turning around. Kyle frowned; he couldn't see anything around Petra's neck. Then he realized that there were small bumps under her uniform, in the shape of a necklace. He'd never even noticed it, having spent far more time observing matters immediately below.
“A necklace,” she answered, turning around and resuming her quick pace. “A diamond necklace,” she clarified. “My grandfather gave it to me before he passed.”
“I see,” Kalibar replied. They walked in silence for a few moments, and to Petra's obvious annoyance, Kalibar kept up with her easily. “What do you know about this cave?” he asked, wisely changing the subject.
“It was the main entrance to my ancestors' caves over two thousand years ago,” she answered grudgingly. “The only caves in the world that carry the Void crystals...and the Reaper Queens.”
“The what?”
“Sacred creatures,” Petra answered. “In a way, they are the mother of all the Barrens,” she added. “That is why the caves were so sacred to my ancestors. They guarded the caves from anyone who tried to steal their treasures. Many tried to defeat them, but none succeeded.”
“Interesting,” Kalibar replied. “I've read reports from that time...they discussed a tribe of forest-dwelling Weavers defending such a cave.”
“My ancestors were the best Weavers in the world,” Petra declared proudly. Then she deflated somewhat. “At least until the Outsider came.”
“The Outsider?”
“A man,” Petra confirmed. “My ancestors took him in, and he lived among them for many years.”
“What happened then?”
“The Outsider discovered the key to eternal life,” Petra replied. “He gave this to my ancestors, plunging stones into their heads to make them the first of the Immortals.”
“My god,” Kalibar breathed. “It was Sabin!” Kyle felt a chill run down his spine, and he turned to Ariana, who looked similarly disturbed. It made perfect sense, of course; Sabin had made his lair here, after all. Still, the thought that Sabin himself had lived here, among these tribes, was mind-boggling.
“Sabin?” Petra asked.
“A man from my country,” Kalibar explained. “He was a brilliant researcher and Runic.” He shook his head. “No one knew where he went after he...after he left the country. I suppose it makes sense that he traveled here.”
“
Yes, well,” Petra stated. “The Outsider – Sabin – took my ancestors' best Weavers and made them all into Immortals, and then they vanished into the caves.”
“What happened to them?” Kalibar pressed. Petra shrugged.
“No one knows,” she admitted. “The entrance to the caves was filled with water, and then poison air. My ancestors tried to get in, but those who did died. With their best Weavers gone, they lost much of their knowledge of weaving, and the tribes have never been the same since.” She slapped a bug that landed on the back of her neck. “We see the Immortals now and again, but they never speak to us, and most of them are not from our people.”
“That's terrible,” Kalibar murmured. “I'm sorry.”
“It's the past,” Petra said matter-of-factly. “My people hope that one day our ancestors – the first Immortals – will return to us, and teach us the old ways.”
“That's why you revere them,” Kalibar deduced. Petra nodded.
“They are our past,” she explained. “We guard these woods and the caves as they did, and wait for them to consider us worthy of their knowledge and wisdom.”
They walked in silence then, Petra's body language clearly indicating that she was done talking. Minutes passed, the crunching of their boots on the dead leaves and twigs underfoot forming a mind-numbing rhythm as they navigated through the forest. Eventually the forest floor began to angle upward, gradually at first, then more sharply. Kyle's legs, as accustomed as they had become to being put through their paces, began to burn. He soon found himself struggling to keep up with the others.
“You okay?” Ariana asked. Kyle nodded, sweat trickling down his forehead.
“I'm,” he gasped, “...fine.”
“Want me to carry you?” she offered. Kyle stared at her incredulously, then shook his head.
“S'okay,” he replied, trudging forward and upward. Ariana folded her arms over her chest, keeping pace with him with annoying ease.
“What, you don't want to look weak in front of your girlfriend?” she pressed. Kyle gave her a look.
“You don't...care about that,” he replied.