by M. R. Forbes
He got out of the room just in time to see them turn the corner. He wondered if the General had come to find him. To rescue him, or to kill him for betraying them? He had to take his chances.
"General." He ran after them, reaching the corner. They were only a few feet ahead. "General," he said again.
They both stopped and turned. In that moment, he wondered if he had made a mistake.
"Are you well, Mediator?" Clau asked.
Wilem tried to calm himself. While his clothes were torn and dirty, they were still the clothes of a Mediator. Clau had recognized him as such, but he didn't seem to know who he was.
His eyes shifted from the General to the other soldier. He was tall and wiry, with long white hair and blue eyes.
The same description Clau gave me... of Silas Morningstar.
His eyes grew wide, and his heart began to race again.
"Mediator? Are you well?" Silas asked.
"I... uh..." He wasn't sure what to do. Silas was here. He was alive. He wasn't capable of working through the hows and the whys. He was so excited he could barely think. With Silas helping him, he was sure to be able to save Eryn. "No, I'm not well. General Clau, do you know me?"
Clau looked at him. "Should I? You seem familiar to me." He waved his hand. "If you are in trouble, state your concern. Otherwise, General Rast and I are due to make our report."
General Rast? It was Silas!
"I... I... General Rast, my apologies, but perhaps you can come with me while General Clau makes the report? There... there is a Cursed we brought in. She escaped from our custody. She's hiding somewhere, and we haven't been able to find her. It's the luck of Amman that you both are here. We need to find her before she loses control of her Curse and kills us all. She would have killed me already, if not for my sword."
It was the best he could do. He held his breath, waiting to see if they would help him.
"We have orders to report. Both of us," Silas said.
"Please, General. Certainly he understands the importance of not allowing a Cursed to roam freely, especially inside the walls of Genesia."
The last word made both of them pause. Didn't they know where they were?
"He's right," Silas said. "If there's a Cursed in here, we need to capture her. Go and make your report, Clau. Tell him I will report as soon as this business is finished."
Clau bowed to Silas, glanced at Wilem one last time, and continued his journey alone.
"Where did you see her last?" Silas asked.
Wilem waited until Clau's footfalls faded. They were acting so strange. He wondered if Clau would think anything of the barricade, or of the dead monsters that the ircidium man had left.
"Silas, they've taken her," he said."They've taken Eryn."
He stared at him. "I don't understand what you're saying, Mediator? Where is the Cursed girl you spoke of?"
He didn't remember. That much was clear. He was supposed to be dead, but he had turned up in Genesia, alive. There was something strange going on.
"I'm not sure. This is my first time to Genesia. I don't know it very well."
Silas rubbed his chin with his hand. "Genesia is the smallest of the reactors," he said, "but there are still hundreds of places to hide. How many soldiers do you have with you?"
Wilem shook his head. "None, my Lord. They're all dead."
"What? The Cursed killed all-"
"No, my Lord. Not the Cursed. There is something else in Genesia. Something much worse than a Cursed girl. I didn't want to say it in front of General Clau."
Silas nodded. "A wise idea. One of us must make the report." He put his hand to the hilt of his sword. "What have you seen?"
"I'm not sure. Monsters. They were gray, with long fingers like claws."
"Here? In Genesia? Are you certain?"
"I'm certain, my Lord."
"Where did you see them?"
Wilem wasn't sure. He had run from the metal man, and lost his bearings. "There was a floor, with a large metal grate in the center. The grate had a hole in it, and they came up from there."
Silas' eyes narrowed. "They're inside the reactor? How could that happen? Follow me, and be ready." He turned and started walking the same way Clau had gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Talon
Talon jumped over the barricade without using his hands to brace himself. He came down on the other side with his sword drawn and ready. The Mediator trailed behind him, choosing to stay in the safety of the barrier.
"There is nothing here," he said.
The Mediator's head appeared. He looked surprised.
"They were here, my Lord. I swear it."
Talon was having trouble keeping his thoughts steady. The mention of Genesia had stirred so many memories, but they existed only at the corner of his consciousness. He knew there was something there he should know, but he couldn't quite get a grip on it.
"I can see the hole you spoke of," he said, spying the torn grating. "They may have fled back to the core."
"The core, my Lord?"
He nodded, and then put a hand to his head. It was starting to hurt.
Am I ready to get back into the field? Perhaps I need more time to recover?
"What is this place, my Lord? What is Genesia?"
He was confused by the question. "You don't know?"
"They didn't tell me where we were taking the Cursed girl. They didn't tell me why we were coming here."
"Who brought you here?" he asked.
The Mediator didn't answer. His face paled, and he looked down.
"Who brought you here?" Talon grabbed the edge of the table he was hiding behind, and threw it against the wall. His head was pounding, and he could feel his heart rate increasing. Something was wrong. Something was out of place. He needed to make his report. His orders were to make his report.
"Eryn," the Mediator said.
"Who is Eryn? Is she an Overlord?"
He shook his head. "No, my Lord." There was fear in his voice, but also determination. "She is your granddaughter. She thought you were dead."
His eyes weren't lying. Talon backed away. His headache was worsening, throbbing so hard he couldn't think. Eryn? The name was familiar. Granddaughter? How could that be? "I don't remember a granddaughter."
"I don't understand what's happening, Silas," the Mediator said. "I don't even know how you got here. Do you?"
"Silas? Who is Silas?" He put his hand to his head. The pain was growing unbearable. He was supposed to make his report. Those were the orders. Leave the infirmary, and make the report. He hadn't followed his orders. He shouldn't have listened to the Mediator. "I have to make my report."
He started walking away.
"No. Forget your report. Silas, we need to help Eryn. She's in trouble."
"I don't know who Eryn is."
How did he get here? He tried to remember the battle. It wasn't uncommon to lose the memory of the injury, or the fall, but why couldn't he remember who they had been fighting, or what he had been doing?
"I told you, she's your granddaughter, and she's going to die if you don't help me."
Talon felt like his head was going to explode. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. "I need to make my report," he yelled. He started walking again. It was the only thing that made his headache better.
The Mediator ran past him and put himself between Talon and the archway that led to the exit. "General, please. You have to help me." He put his hand on Talon's shoulder.
"Don't you dare touch me," Talon said. His own hand came up and grabbed the Mediator's wrist, twisting it and bringing him to his knees. "You're out of line." His held his wrist for a heartbeat, and then let go. "Move aside. That's an order."
The Mediator looked up at him, tears in his eyes. He reached down and picked something up off the floor, holding it out to him.
"Does this look familiar to you?" he asked. "Please tell me this looks familiar to you."
He was holding a ring. A simple ring
, with a small stone on the top. Talon stared at it, feeling his headache returning. The ring. He knew that ring. He was sure of it.
He put his hands to his head and groaned. The pain was becoming intense. Why was there so much pressure to report? What was happening to him? He fought against the agony and reached out, taking the ring from the Mediator.
"You know what it is, don't you, Silas?" he asked. "You gave that ring to your wife, Alyssa. Alyssa gave it to your son Aren, who gave it to his wife Kaelyn. He wanted to give the ring to Eryn, but he lost it in the woods before he died. She found it anyway, and then she found you."
Talon stared at the ring. He could see it all in the reflection of the light against the stone. He held it between his thumb and forefinger and joined the Mediator on his knees. Tears burst from his eyes, but the pain in his head began to subside. What was happening to him? What had happened to him? Who was he?
What was he?
"Eryn." He saw her face. Her short brown hair. Her long, thin limbs, strong from spending so much time at her adopted father's forge. He smiled when he remembered their time spent training together, the laughter and joking amidst the seriousness of their duty.
He remembered Aren. He remembered Feng, and Overlord Iolas.
He remembered Alyssa.
Murderer.
He remembered that, too.
The boy kneeling in front of him was a Mediator. Where had he come from?
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Wilem, I'm a friend of Eryn's. We met at Waverly's."
"Waverly's?" He stared at Wilem. "This is the Dark? Genesia is the Dark?"
"Silas, what is Genesia? What is this place?"
He wanted to answer. He thought he knew, but the memories were fading from him. "I'm losing it," he said. "Losing the memories. As if, the more I remember of the recent past, the more I lose of the distant." He stood up. "Wilem, come with me, quickly."
They ran back the way they had come.
"Where are we going?" Wilem asked.
"Rossum. We need to speak to Rossum. Remember that, in case I forget it."
They passed through the living quarters, winding through a maze of passages and corridors until they were back where he had woken. He was still there, standing motionless in the corner.
"Rossum," Silas said. The man didn't move. "Rossum!" He walked over to him, put his hands on his shoulders, and shook him.
Rossum's head tilted to the side. "If Talon has returned, then he has not made his report."
"No, I haven't made my report. Something is going on here. I need you to tell what it is."
"If Talon does not make his report, then Talon is broken. If Talon is broken, then Talon will not make his report. If Talon will not make his report, then Talon has broken the promise. If Talon has broken the promise, then the event will recurse."
"I don't know what you're saying."
"If the event will recurse, then he must be warned. If he must be warned, then-"
Silas curled his hand into a fist, and punched the other man. His head rocked to the side, and then straightened.
"Rossum was a wizard," Wilem said. "He was Jeremiah's assistant. I don't understand how he can be here. Silas, this man would be over four hundred years old." His expression changed. "If he's that old, and you know him..."
Silas looked back at Wilem. "It's been more than four hundred years." He grabbed Rossum's robe, pulling their faces close. "How is that possible?" he asked.
The other man was silent. His dead eyes stared straight ahead.
"There's something odd about him, too," Wilem said. "The way he speaks."
The memories were there, just out of his reach. They were riding the edge of his mind, and he fought to catch them. Every time he drew close, they slipped away.
He remembered Rossum though, and Genesia. He was sure he wasn't supposed to. He was certain if he had made his report, he would have been ordered from this place, and by the time he left he would never recall having been here. What had he done to him?
Footfalls echoed in the corridor. Silas let go of Rossum and turned towards the door. He noticed Wilem as he did. The Mediator looked frightened.
"An ircidium man," he said. "Silas, we have to get out of here."
"If Talon has broken the promise, then Talon must be destroyed," Rossum said. "If Talon must be destroyed, then the juggernaut must destroy Talon."
Silas drew his sword. The sound of scraping metal echoed through the passage. Heavy feet vibrated the floor.
"Silas, we have to go," Wilem said.
Silas looked back at him. "No. I'm the First of Nine. I don't fear the juggernauts. The juggernauts fear me."
He crouched, his sword up over his head. As soon as the juggernaut came into view, he leaped forward, high into the air. He tucked his legs up tight as the metal man's huge sword cut through the air beneath them. His ircidium blade took a wide arc and powered into the thing's neck, severing its head in one lightning fast stroke. The body fell forward with a loud clank, and the thick black blood poured from severed tubes.
He landed behind it, then walked across its back to where Rossum stood. "Tell them if they come, they'll be destroyed. All of them. He doesn't control me anymore. He doesn't own me."
At first, there was no motion, no acknowledgement. Then Rossum's hand whipped out and grabbed Silas' wrist. The pupils of his eyes dilated, and then focused, as though he had only now come to life.
"You made a promise, Talon Rast. You made a promise to him, to fight for him until your final breath. You above all must keep your promise. You above all must remain loyal. You don't remember the reasons, I know. Please, trust in me that they are sound. All of us have suffered, and all of us have lost. We have made the hard choices, not out of malice but out of need. Go and make your report. Go and fulfill your promise. Genesia is supposed to be forgotten. Leave it that way. Let it be the lost symbol of a dead civilization."
Silas shook his head. "No. I can't. Something took Eryn. Something took my granddaughter. If I make the report, I'll forget everything. I'll be a slave again."
Rossum smiled, a sad, comforting smile, letting go of his wrist. "Ahh, Talon. You aren't a slave. You knew what you were agreeing to. You knew the price. We had to pay it. We all had to pay it. We made a promise to right what we had done wrong."
"I never would have promised to kill innocent people. I never would have promised to give the order to murder my own son."
"Talon, you don't have a son. You can't have a son. It isn't possible."
"I had two sons, by Heden. Two sons, and a wife. I remember them all."
"You should have made your report. There's still time. I don't want to see you destroyed. Not you."
Silas stared into the man's eyes. He could almost see the truth hiding inside of them, laughing at him for his inability to understand. He shook his head. He didn't need to understand the past. He had been different then. He had been a monster.
A murderer.
"Who am I?" he asked. "Who is he? Tell me. Please."
"I can't. I'm sorry, Talon. I made a promise, too. One that I won't ever break, even though it means a cold existence in this place, locked inside myself for all of eternity, waiting to fix the Nine when they return. Six, now, I suppose. I don't have the materials to fix you again. Your strength and courage have returned you to me more times than any of the others. That's why he didn't have you killed. You should be grateful."
Silas watched the past in Rossum's eyes. What he saw was selfishness, greed, pain, suffering, and control. Whatever had been done to him, it had been done to Rossum, too. How else could he still be here after nearly a thousand years?
"Six brothers," Silas said. "I couldn't convince Feng. I couldn't convince Clau."
"They remember they made a promise. They are loyal."
Silas licked his lips. "Maybe they remember they made a promise, but this could not be the promise they made. To protect a tyrant, a murderer, a cold-blooded killer who oppresses i
nnocents to maintain his grip on control? Everything about his Empire is a lie. How can you base loyalty on a lie? He made me kill my son!" The walls shook with the effort of his anger, his raised voice echoing around them.
Rossum was calm. "Talon, you are wrong. You don't have a son."
The fury grew in him, turning from explosive heat to dense cold. "How can you tell me that? I remember him. I remember the day he was born. I remember watching him grow."
"No. Talon, if you won't report, you will be destroyed. The Six will hunt you to the ends of the earth. They won't have a choice. If you break the promise, you threaten everything we have worked to build. A thousand years of effort. Open your eyes. I'm telling you the truth. I have nothing to gain by lying to you, and you are the last person I would ever lie to. You can't have a son, Talon. We aren't human. Not anymore. Not in a thousand years."
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Eryn
Eryn rolled over onto her back, her sleep interrupted by nightmares of monsters, fire, and death. She lay in the dark, her body wracked with pain, her mind becoming... what?
She let out a soft moan, a desperate whimper, and opened her eyes. What were they doing to her?
The creature had called her 'the daughter'. It had carried her from the platform overlooking the ebocite to a small, dark corner of a much larger room. This room had a complex system of ircidium gears and pumps and pulleys all clattering and clacking and speaking some strange machine language, and venting off immense amounts of smoke, easily recognized as the heavy mist that filled the valley. The original path of the steam had been altered, the ircidium tubing that carried it redirected. By the monsters? Or by someone else?
My name is Eryn Albion. Daughter of Jaerl and Pash, daughter of Aren and Kaelyn. I came here with Wilem. Wilem is here. Wilem will save me. If he can. If anyone can.
They were changing her into one of them. She was sure of it. She would lose her mind, lose her self, and want only to die.
It's the ebocite, isn't it? The magic is drawn to it. It feeds on it. It's doing more than living inside of me.