The Regenerates

by Maansi Pandya

  He couldn’t sleep now. Would he get to speak to Coralie again before it happened? There had to be something he could do…

  Then it hit him. Ven got out of bed, snuck into his mother’s bedroom, opened her dresser drawer as quietly as he could and picked up the stack of keys that would allow him access into almost every room on the estate. He slowly tiptoed outside, grabbed a night robe and snuck out the door. He kept a tight grip on the keys so they wouldn’t make any noise.

  Pure desperation sent him sneaking past the night guards, lower and lower towards the basement floors until he reached the underground prison quarters. Used mainly for political prisoners, spies, and those sentenced for treason, this prison had been built in the deepest recesses of Lord Magistrate’s estate. So deep, in fact, that the guards didn’t even bother keeping watch on individual cells. There was no way to escape, anyway. If you managed somehow to exit through the main door, a row of guards awaited you at the end of a very narrow hallway.

  Lucky for Ven, having a blueprint of every room meant he had an alternate means of entry. He felt like a different person, stealing keys and blueprints, and sneaking into prison to seek help from a fugitive. But what other option did he have? Even if this didn’t work, he could at least say he’d tried.

  Ven checked the blueprint again. In the hallway beside the prison quarters was a small wooden door. He looked around him, and it seemed as though he was in the right place. There it was, towards the end of the corridor. Ven fumbled with the keys until one of them fit, opened the door, and crawled into the tiny space that lay beyond it.

  It was pitch black and smelt damp. He hadn’t bothered to bring a lamp with him; he wanted to remain as invisible as possible. Ven felt his way around the small space, running his hands along the dusty walls until he could feel rough wood. Feeling for the doorknob, he rummaged with the keys once more and pushed open the small door.

  The copper lanterns lining the prison walls emitted a faint glow. The cells were just around the corner. Ven prayed that the man Kayn had struck would be the only inmate, at least in this area. The last thing he needed was someone overhearing him. Ven tiptoed ahead, his heart racing. As he approached the cells, he slowly peered into each one. They seemed empty, save for one closer to the end of the stone hallway.

  The man looked different up close. He seemed to be asleep, leaning against the side of the cell, his breathing heavy. Ven had expected him to look frail and injured from the beating he had taken earlier. Instead, he looked fit and able-bodied. Stubble covered his chin and his pale hair was unkempt.

  His heart pounding faster than ever, Ven leaned in closer. “Excuse me. I need to talk to you.”

  The man opened his eyes and looked up at him. He stared at Ven for a moment, tilting his head. “I didn’t know the prison guards wore night gowns. What is it, kid? Here to give me another update on my execution?”

  “I’m not a guard, I live in the palace. I need to ask you a favor.”

  The man raised his eyebrows. Ven swallowed. “My friend has been sentenced. She’s going to be executed on Abolition Day and I need to save her.”

  The man didn’t respond right away, but something in his eyes told Ven he had the man’s full attention. “This is a first in Cor’s history,” the man said. “This friend of yours must be quite special.”

  Ven turned pink. “She’s a family friend and she hasn’t done anything wrong. I can’t just sit by.”

  “So why do you need my help?” the man asked. Ven looked away and the man began to chuckle. “Ah, I understand. You’re probably a high-profile elite with a clean record and a very comfortable life. It’s only natural that you’d seek help from a criminal to commit a crime. But there’s something more, I think.”

  Ven swallowed, but kept his voice steady. “You have power,” he said, feeling foolish. “That explosion. You can use it again.”

  “I suppose,” the man smiled. “Although it would be easier to do when I’m not chained up like this. Tell me, though – you must be a Highborn, right? Surely with your position, the Grand Magistrate would make an exception for a family friend.”

  “I tried speaking to him,” said Ven, clenching his fists. “He didn’t even listen to me. He just brushed me off and threatened my mother.”

  “He always was a little brat,” said the man. “Alright, let’s say I agree to help you. I’ll need something in return, and you may want to think this one over for a bit.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want you to steal the Magistrate’s Dagger embedded in Kayn’s throne. Give it to me, and I’ll carry your friend, as well as the other Sentenced, to safety. I’m an expert at sending people into hiding. They’re better off out of this twisted city, anyway. They’ll be able to begin a new life. So, what do you say?”

  Ven stared at the man, dumbfounded. “You want me to steal a centuries-old symbol of Cor’s history? Do you have any idea what the Magistrate’s Dagger is? Without that, Kayn won’t be allowed to–”

  “–Allowed to rule, yes. I know,” the man interrupted. “Why do you think I’m asking you to steal it?”

  “If you wanted to make sure Kayn doesn’t become Grand Magistrate, wouldn’t it be easier to just kill him?” said Ven. He choked in horror at what he had just suggested.

  The man looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. “I’m really starting to like you, kid. But you misunderstand. I’m not trying to end his life.”

  “What are you trying to do, then?”

  “That’s not your business, I’m afraid. Besides, it’s got nothing to do with your friend, so it shouldn’t bother you.”

  Ven frowned. “What was that back there, anyway? In Council Hall. You could have defended yourself. Why didn’t you?”

  The man looked troubled. “I prefer to let events unfold as they are meant to.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Now isn’t the time to be interrogating me, don’t you think? Do we have a deal or not?”

  Ven fell silent. Stealing the Magistrate’s Dagger was as bad as having Kayn assassinated. Following his father’s death, the Elders’ Council had entrusted the sacred object to Kayn for safekeeping as a test to determine his worthiness to become Grand Magistrate in his father’s place. Ven knew how seriously Kayn took his job. Since his incompetent older brother, Klaus, wasn’t fit to be a leader, Kayn was the natural heir. The dagger was a spoil of Cor’s most famous war and contained a sacred power that kept Cor safe.

  He wanted to vomit. None of this was supposed to be happening. Coralie’s sentencing, sneaking into prison. He hated it. No matter what he chose, his life wouldn’t be the same anymore.

  “I–” he began, but no more words came out. His mind was spinning. What should he do? If he was caught, his mother would get in trouble, too. But if he did nothing, Coralie would die.

  The man reached through the bars of the prison cell and placed a hand on Ven’s shoulder.

  “I’m not a tyrant. I’m not planning to take over Cor, nor do I mean any of you any harm. I have a job to do, and it’s in Cor’s best interests. I need the Magistrate’s Dagger. There is a history behind it that you would never imagine.”

  Ven’s insides were screaming in protest. “What were you planning on doing if I hadn’t come down here? How were you going to steal it in the first place?”

  The look on the man’s face sent a shiver down Ven’s spine. “I was going to do something drastic.”

  Ven closed his eyes. Time was running short and he couldn’t stay much longer. He thought of Coralie being hung in front of him. Bile rose in his throat.

  A sudden, unfamiliar exhilaration began to spread through him. “I’ll do it.”

  The man looked straight into Ven’s eyes. “Kid, I give you my word. By helping me, you will have saved Cor from an unspeakable terror.”

  “Whatever.” Ven stared at the ground. “Just tell me what to do.”

  “What’s your name?” the man asked. Ven looked at him, suddenly overcome with
dizziness and craving sleep.

  “It’s Ven,” he said, in a voice that didn’t sound like his own.

  “My name is Markis,” the man replied.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was as though Ven had become a puppet. Abolition Day was the next morning, and since his meeting with the prisoner named Markis, he had done nothing but run through their arranged plan in his head a hundred times. He was only vaguely aware of everything happening around him. He walked right past Hans and Florentine as they waved at him in the hall, and ate only the leftovers that his mother brought upstairs from the banquet room. He even passed Kayn a few times, and smiled politely as he fought back a powerful urge to lunge at him.

  He had worked everything out with his mother beforehand. He told her he would be missing the sentencing and of course, she agreed. As planned, he would steal the Magistrate’s Dagger from Kayn’s throne the morning of the ceremony while everyone was assembled outside and then release Markis from prison. After that, Markis had told him to wait by the south entrance to the Drudger Quadrant. Markis would cause a diversion and lead Coralie and the other Sentenced to Ven’s location, where they would travel underground via the sewage system outside Cor’s gates to freedom. After everything had died down, Markis would meet them outside and arrange for them to be evacuated to a refugee camp until further action could be taken.

  The only downside to this plan, assuming it worked, was that Ven would have next to no time to say goodbye to Coralie. While he was relieved beyond belief that she wasn’t going to die and could start a new life with her parents, life in Cor wouldn’t be the same without her.

  But Ven had no time to get sentimental. Stealing the dagger itself was going to be a daunting task. It helped that no one would suspect him, and that the throne room would be mostly empty. But the dagger couldn’t be popped out of the back of the throne simply by some pushing and shoving. Sealing it to the back was a black stone slab that would only come loose when a certain ancient Coran symbol was etched on its surface, a symbol that Ven had to memorize in secret. To Ven’s frustration, Markis refused to disclose how he knew the symbol in the first place.

  “I will tell you one secret, though,” he said. “I used to live in Cor, many years ago. I am no stranger to this place.”

  Despite all the questions he had, Ven couldn’t have cared less who this man was and what he wanted. All he cared about was saving Coralie and her parents, and Markis had agreed to help him. That’s all Ven needed to hear.

  “We’ve decided not to go to the ceremony either, Ven,” said Florentine later that day. She seemed less like her usual, boisterous self. “We’re going to stay in our rooms and not come out till it’s over.”

  Ven felt a surge of affection for her. Despite her spunkiness, Florentine was a good friend. He decided that if things ever got back to normal, he would be nicer to her. He gave her a genuine smile and hugged her. “Thanks, Flor. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  Florentine blushed.

  As the hours ticked by, Ven felt more and more nervous. There was too much going on in the palace to run things over again with Markis now. He would have to wait till late in the night. At random moments, he was hit with waves of fear. So much could go wrong. A single slip-up meant the end for him, Coralie, and his mother. He did his best to dismiss these worries. They wouldn’t help him in the slightest.

  Finally, it began to get dark. As Ven stared out his window watching the sun set, he got a blurry glimpse of his reflection. His brown hair, which was usually neat and groomed, was unkempt and his clothes were rumpled. It was almost as though a different person was looking back at him. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and his face was pale from lack of food. He figured it wouldn’t help to be fatigued, not with a very important task ahead of him. He finished the plate of leftovers his mother had left for him and spent the next few hours pacing. His mother came to check up on him several times, but eventually she fell asleep.

  Finally, as the sky began to turn a deep blue, Ven snuck into his mother’s room, stole her set of keys once more and crept quietly out the door. The journey down to the underground prison seemed to take longer than usual. When he had reached the end of the dark, narrow crawlspace, he tiptoed to Markis’ cell and peered inside.

  “You’re a bit early,” said Markis.

  “I want to run things over one more time.”

  “Not having cold feet, are you?” Markis laughed.

  Ven said nothing. He was in no mood to be humorous.

  “Relax, it’ll be alright,” said Markis. “Have you memorized the symbol? Remember, it has to be exact or it won’t work.”

  “Yes, I’ve got it.”

  “Excellent. Oh, and no matter what happens, don’t stop to watch the diversion. You need to be in the Drudger Quadrant as fast as you can after you’ve given me the dagger and released me.”

  Ven looked at him in disbelief. “Why the hell would I stop to watch the diversion?”

  “I can promise you, you’ll want to,” Markis said.

  Ven was still puzzled, but he didn’t ask any more questions. “Where do I go after they’ve entered the tunnel?”

  “Stay at the entrance and wait for my signal. After that, make your way back to the palace during the commotion and do not be seen, no matter what.”

  “Right.” Ven paused for a moment, then looked at Markis. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if I had to watch Coralie die.”

  Markis smiled. “I should be the one thanking you.”

  “You said you used to live in Cor a long time ago,” said Ven. “What Quadrant were you from? Why did you leave?”

  Markis looked deep in thought. “I guess you could say I had an epiphany, kind of like you. As for my Quadrant, I was a Drudger. Lived in the worst part of it, too.”

  Ven wasn’t sure whether to ask him anything else about his history. He decided against it.

  “You are a fortunate kid, Ven. Be grateful for what you have, because it can be taken from you in an instant. I’m sure you believe me, because it took all of three days for your life to go from very peaceful to very turbulent.”

  “I know.”

  “You’d best get going soon,” said Markis. “It’s almost time.”

  ***

  The palace was almost empty. Ven was in Council Hall, his heart beating so fast he was almost afraid someone would hear it. A few soldiers lingered outside in the corridor pacing. He tried to look as nonchalant as he could. His face was incredibly warm and try as he might, he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting around him every few seconds or whenever he heard a noise.

  He walked up to Kayn’s golden throne. Taking one more glance behind him, he hurried to the other side of it and ran his hand over the black stone slab. It was so out of place, like an imperfection on a smooth, beautiful surface. He placed his finger on the slab and traced the symbol that Markis had shown him, feeling very stupid. For a second he thought Markis had tricked him, but a moment later, the stone slab fizzled and disappeared. Ven’s heart stopped. There, resting on a marble stand inside a revealed compartment, was the Magistrate’s Dagger.

  Ven glanced around him, sick with nervousness. He gingerly picked up the dagger, trying to keep his hands steady. It was a wondrous piece of craftsmanship. The blade was blood-red and waved. The end of it was sharp and jagged, and the hilt was charcoal black. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the blade was etched with the same symbol he had used to reveal the hidden space.

  Ven tucked the dagger away inside his jacket and rushed as fast as he could down to the prison. As he ran past the open windows, he could see the crowd assembling in Stratum Square. At the center, an elevated platform housed four nooses, and behind it stood a lineup of people, all bound and heads bowed. Ven had no time to try and spot Coralie in the line. He sped up and did not stop until he had reached the familiar crawlspace and wormed his way into the prison. Fumbling with the set of keys, he unlocked Markis’ cell as well as the chains bindi
ng his arms and legs.

  “Here,” said Ven, handing Markis with the dagger.

  Markis’ face lit up like a child opening a birthday present. “Ven,” he closed his fist tightly around it, “you have my utmost gratitude. I promise, I will make sure your friend and her family make it to safety if it’s the last thing I do. Now hurry.”

  Ven nodded and rushed back out the crawlspace. He would have to use an alternate means of exit to get to the Drudger Quadrant. The palace was so large that even in all the years he had lived here, he hadn’t explored every space. He pulled out the blueprint he had kept with him and searched it till he found the right exit.

  He took a deep breath. The worst of it was over. Markis had the dagger, and Ven had managed to steal it without getting caught. Now all he could do was leave the biggest job to Markis.

  When he finally made it outside, the noise of the crowd was deafening. Even as he weaved in between the houses and crossed the massive stone bridges connecting the Quadrants, Ven could hear Kayn addressing the crowd through a microphone, his voice echoing.

  “–Finally arrived, the day we have been waiting for all year,” his voice boomed. “Today, we celebrate the eradication of yet another group of individuals who have threatened Cor’s peace and order. I thank all of you who have come forward and brought these wrongdoers to justice. You represent our magnificent city, and today is in honor of you–”