The Veil: Corruption (HASEA CHRONICLES BOOK 2)

by Stuart Meczes

  He pressed a button on his Biomote, and the machine fell silent. I picked up a towel from the matted floor and threw it to him. He used it to mop his forehead and then chucked it back down.

  “Hey, boss.”

  “Nice work,” I said.

  He gave a grin. “Gotta keep in shape. The bad guys don’t stop being bad.” Delagio walked over to a bench at the back of the room and spread himself over it with his legs stretched out, winkle picker boots poking towards the ceiling like giant darts. I settled next to him and watched as he plucked one of his lucky marbles from his jacket pocket and started looping it through his fingers.

  “I’m guessing that you’re not here ta admire mah Kinesis skills though.”

  I nodded and sat up, wringing my hands together. How do I ask this? How do I ask a person to lay their life on the line and go into hell’s backyard, knowing full well I can’t guarantee their safe return?

  “Well,” I began. “The thing is…” Come on, Ella, just ask him. “The thing is…”

  Delagio started laughing and I cast him a sideways look. “What’s so funny?”

  He gestured towards me. “You…this. It’s just an odd experience to see Gabriella De Luca strugglin’ to make herself understood.” When he caught my expression he stopped smiling and sat up. “Sorry. Look, Ella, I know why you’re here.”

  “You do?”

  “Course ah do. Why do you think I’ve been training so hard these last few months? I’ve been waiting for the day where you’d come to me and ask. Hell, I’m shocked you haven’t come to me earlier.”

  “So…you’ll do it?”

  He slapped a shoulder on my arm. “Course I will. I already said I would back when he first told us about his Pa. You guys are family. I can’t let you go into the lion’s den alone can I? I need to make sure that kid doesn’t get everyone killed!”

  His candidness disarmed me. I’d planned to launch into a big speech about loyalty, camaraderie, and friendship, but in one sentence, he’d cut through all the bullshit and rendered me speechless. I blinked back tears.

  “Delagio…I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Alex will be so happy.”

  The usual daft expression on Delagio’s face was replaced by one of sincerity. “I have one condition. You promise me that Alex will have his shit together before you let us follow him through that big ass door. Ah love him like a brother, but we all know he hasn’t been himself lately. I can’t follow someone I can’t trust.”

  I swivelled on the bench so that I was facing Delagio head on and placed a hand over the invisible Alliance marking on my wrist. “On my honour as a Huntmaster and as your friend, I will not let anyone enter Pandemonia if I think Alex is not in full control of himself.”

  The grin we all loved spread across Delagio’s face. “That’s all ah needed to hear.” He flicked the marble away and stood up. As he walked me to the target range exit, I could hear it ricochet around the arena like a pinball.

  Del stopped at the arched doorway. “I’m goanna carry on practicing for a bit.”

  The marble appeared from behind, and he caught it one handed.

  “Yeah, looks like you need it.”

  “Tell me when it’s time, and I’m there.” He winked and turned back inside.

  It was past nine when I made my way to the next on the list. The sun had already burned away all traces of clouds, and the sky was a perfect azure. The day was gearing up to be hotter than the previous. As I walked through the grounds, I rolled through the four other names I had on my mental list. Grey, Barton, Aran, Danny. I knew that some were a long shot, but it was time to stop messing about and start asking hard questions. Next up was Grey.

  I found him at the Pyromancy training area. He was sitting cross-legged on a charred patch of grass, face raised towards the sun and eyes closed. A ball of flickering fire crackled in the palm of one of his upturned hands. The other was lying in his lap, as if broken. It was trembling, like it had been the other day. Around him were the burned remains of practice dummies. He was meditating, his breathing slow and deep. I felt bad interrupting him, and was about to leave when he opened his eyes and closed his palm, winking out the flame.

  “Hi, Huntmaster.”

  “Grey, how are you?”

  “Feeling much better, thanks.” He gestured towards the hand in his lap. “Been having some trouble with leftie though. Think I took a bit more of a beating than I let myself admit.” He gave it a shake. “Still, reckon it’ll mend itself soon enough.”

  I sat down on the grass next to him.

  “I didn’t take you for the meditating kind.”

  “Been doing it every day for about ten years. It helps me control stress.”

  I realised I didn’t know all that much about his life apart from the fact that he had been a wealthy GP in a Battersea surgery. Scarlett had done his infiltration, and I’d just let her get on with things. It was unprofessional of me, and I knew it – but the truth was I’d been preoccupied with Alex.

  “You stressed?” I asked.

  He gestured to the crumbled remains of the Prolesium. “Who wouldn’t be? What happened yesterday was horrific. We lost good people. Hell, we were all in there. If Alex hadn’t raised the alarm when he did, it would be our memorial service today.” He gave a grim smile. “Call it survivor’s guilt.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  “I act like I take this all in stride, but truth is, it scares me senseless. I mean I’m thankful that I get to be part of all this, but…” He blew air through his teeth. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack when I think about what we do on a day-to-day basis.”

  “I had no idea you felt like that. You should have come to me before.”

  “And say what? It’s not like I want out.” He shrugged. “I’ve only been a Guardian three months. I guess it gets easier with time.”

  “It does. I promise.”

  This isn’t a good idea. I don’t think he’s ready for something like this.

  I patted his shoulder and made to stand up, but he held onto my arm. His hand was still warm, like a cooling oven.

  “What did you want to speak to me about?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “It’s fine.”

  “Come on, Huntmaster.”

  “Grey, we’re friends. You can call me Gabriella when we’re not on a mission, I told you that.”

  He laughed. “Sorry, I always forget. Come on, Gabriella. Tell me what’s up.”

  I drew in a deep breath, wondering how to begin. “You’ve heard about Alex’s father potentially being alive in Pandemonia?”

  “Yeah. Poor Alex, that’s got to be tough on him.”

  “It is. You may have also heard that he wants to go and get him back.”

  Grey nodded.

  “What you might not have heard is that we need to secure a team first. A team we trust, willing to come with us through the Veil.”

  “That I hadn’t heard.”

  I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck. It was hard to get to the point. I felt nervous, like I was trying to ask someone on a date. It meant so much to Alex; I didn’t want to let him down. He needed this. Bad news would not be good for him right now. I breathed out hard and went for it.

  “Grey, I hear what you are saying about being scared, but you are a good Guardian. We could really use you on our team.”

  His eyebrows raised and for a long moment he said nothing. My heart was hammering in my chest. I couldn’t read his expression. He seemed to be contemplating the question, weighing up the pros and cons.

  Then he nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, as in you’ll do it?” I asked.

  “You sound surprised.”

  “Well, after what you just said…”

  He tore up a handful of grass, and I watched as he slowly charred it in his hand before casting it down a blade at a time. “Here’s a quick rundown of my life before the Alliance. I worked sixty-hour weeks at the surgery so I
could pay for my stupidly-oversized house in Chelsea and provide for my girlfriend whose favourite pastimes were maxing out our credit cards and shagging her dietician.”

  His honesty caught me off guard. I was stunned into silence.

  “My mother is a recovering alcoholic who lives in Spain with her new fiancé, Paulo.” He emphasised the name, giving it as much malice as possible. “And dear old Dad is a narcissistic surgeon who doesn’t return my phone calls and dates girls your age. I self-prescribed medication, built up quite the addiction to Diazepam. That and a whole lot of meditation were the only things that helped me deal with the huge stack of shit that was my life.

  “And then I had my Awakening and joined the Alliance. I was no longer a twenty-nine-year-old, wealthy loser with a drug problem and an unfaithful girlfriend. For the first time my life, I had a purpose. I had control. I’ve got my personality back, all thanks to this. Since then, I’ve kicked out Miss Unfaithful – much to her wonderful shock – and sold a house full of bad memories and crap I don’t need. This place – here – is my new home, and you guys are all the family I need. So, you say that one of us needs my help, I’m there, no question.” He gave a chuckle. “Even if the guy I’m helping has been a mental case recently.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just say thank you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Let me know when it’s time to get Dad back.”

  *

  I broke my streak with Barton. He was sitting on the bed in his room reading Planet Hulk. A stack of graphic novels was perched on the side table. When I told him what we were planning to do, his face went ashen. I knew then that I was unlikely to add his name to our list.

  “I-I’m sorry, but I’ve only been a Guardian for a few months. I’m not ready for something like that. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed helping you guys out at Indigo the other day, but you’re asking me to join you in a world full of things that want to kill me every chance they get.” He shook his head. “I’m just not mentally ready for something like that.”

  I didn’t bother to press any further. I knew there was no point. Instead I gave him my warmest smile and closed the door behind me.

  *

  I realised Aran would be the hardest to find. Not just because she spent most of her time invisible, but also because I realised I had no clue where she lived or where she trained. I spent over an hour walking around the base asking people where I could find her. Half of the people I spoke to didn’t even know who Aranvai Valdenia was. Luckily, on my second sweep through the base, I peered into one of the offices and spied Iralia organising some files into cabinets. She smiled when she saw me and ushered me in.

  “Sorry to bother you, hun, but I’m looking for Aran. Do you know where I can find her?”

  “Oh you mean that odd little Urisk creature? Hold on.” She clicked on the desk computer and tapped at the mouse a few times. Holding a manicured finger at the screen she traced along it slowly. “According to Alliance records, she has her own area in an unused section of the Nexus near the underground linkway. These Urisks are like nesters or something. They create their own environment.” She pulled a face. “Nice and weird, then.”

  She clicked a few more times. “They are very active during the day, so she likely won’t be there…ah here we go. It’s a training permit signed off by Faru. It says that she was allocated a small area to the back of the memorial graveyard. My guess is you’ll find her there.”

  I smiled. “As always, Iralia, you are a godsend.”

  She gave a wink. “Anything for my girl.”

  I clicked open the office door and stopped just in the doorway. “To save you from digging, I’m going to try and recruit her for the journey across. It’s happening soon.”

  Iralia pumped both fists into the air. “Yes!” She leaned forward and shoved a stack of notes off the desk. They burst into a shower of white, pink, and red sheets, which spilled over the dull green carpet. “Screw paperwork!”

  I left Iralia spinning in her chair with a huge grin on her face.

  The Warren was a flurry of activity. An army of workmen darted around the grounds in preparation for the repair of the Prolesium. The bodies of the fallen recruits had already been removed. Sage Etorre was standing outside the ruins of the arena solemnly discussing something with a tablet-wielding Agent Green. Next to the agent was a distraught looking Ivy, who stood with her arms hugging her own chest. I wanted to go over and say something to her, but I knew that there were no words that could fix what she had gone through, what she blamed herself for.

  Sage Etorre asked her to look at something on the tablet, and she gave a solemn nod. It was my guess that my old Sage was trying to organise the redistribution of her Guardians into new teams. As I passed them, he looked up and gave a nod. I returned it and kept moving, just in case he tried to reel me in to help. Right now I couldn’t imagine anything worse.

  The memorial graveyard was a vast gated section of land in the southeast section of the Warren grounds. Four centuries of Alliance sacrifice had been translated into three thousand and twenty four graves, which spread out in neat rows over the plot. The place carried the weight of history, which gave it a humbling majesty that was hard to ignore. Engraved on the cast iron entrance gates were the crest of our order and the words Dilecti Surgemus - Socii Pollemus, the Alliance motto. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two workmen armed with shovels walking up the side paths. I felt sadness curl in my stomach. Adding more numbers to the total.

  As I passed by the outside of the gates, I scanned for Midnight’s grave. I knew it well. Row thirty-one, twelve. It seemed wrong that he had been reduced to a unit in a graveyard, but the truth was that his memories stayed with us. The graveyard was simply a place we could come to construct those memories back into a person we could talk to. I’d spent several hours over the last few months perched next to his grave, sharing my fears and hopes with my old friend. Even though I never got an answer, I always left feeling better.

  I counted the rows as I passed and stopped when I reached Midnight’s. A small shape was sat cross-legged on the grass. I would have known that person anywhere.

  Sophia.

  Curiosity overtook duty, and I doubled back, pushing open the gates and heading into the cemetery. Slowly, I walked between the rows of graveyards as they gradually changed from worn and grey to white, all uniform in their shape and size, but made individual through the dedicated messages that had been written by the ones that knew them best.

  Sophia had a selection of books resting at her feet. She was using one to lean on as she wrote a message in green pen on a piece of cartridge paper. Frowning, I moved closer, feeling guilty for spying on her, but unable to shake the feeling that what she was doing was important. I crouched down behind a tombstone and watched.

  The message was written with care. When she had finished, she folded it over a few times and looked around. I had to duck my head behind the tombstone and pray that she didn’t notice me. When I looked back out, she had moved a wreath of flowers resting on the ground and pulled away a small, square section of grass. From a small hole underneath, she retrieved a metal tin and opened the lid. She put the folded bit of paper in the tin, placed it back in the hole and then covered everything back up again. Then she stood, wrapping her tiny arms around the headstone and resting her forehead against the spot where Midnight’s real name was etched. Sophia gathered her books and headed out of the graveyard into the grounds. I blinked back tears and shrank down behind the grave.

  Is this what I’ve become? Someone who would spy on a broken-hearted little girl?

  I didn’t move for over ten minutes. It felt like my mind was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, I wanted to forget what I’d seen and carry on to find Aran. But as much as I hated it, the other part needed to see what was written on those notes. It could provide the answers to what was happening to Sophia and how I could help. Otherwise I wouldn’t have even
dreamed of retrieving that box.

  The concerned part of me won out, and as much as I despised myself for it, I moved over to the gravestone and pulled aside the wreath.

  “Midnight, please forgive me,” I whispered.

  Lifting out the grass block, I retrieved the small tin and popped the lid. The combined smell of metal and dirt hit me. Inside were about eight folded pieces of paper. I plucked one out with shaking fingers and swallowed hard.

  If for a second it seems like a prayer or diary entry it goes straight back and I forget this box is even here.

  I opened the note and looked down at it.

  I’ve been searching for weeks for the spell. I know I’ll find it in one of these books. I’m going to make you proud of me. I miss you everyday. xx

  Spells? I felt my throat go tight. I’d had a strong feeling that she was planning something, but I’d prayed I was wrong. Now it had been confirmed. But what spell?

  I pulled out another piece of paper at random.

  Tommy has agreed to help me when we find it. I know it exists. Claudine told us about it when she was listing spells that are forbidden. I know that it’s wrong and that I could get in a lot of trouble, but it’s the only way I’ll be able to carry on. I can’t stay here like this anymore. Not without you. I love you x

  I could feel my throat tightening as I put the fold of paper back into the tin. She knows what she is doing is wrong. Oh God, what is she going to do?

  I picked out the newest fold of paper, the one right at the top of the pile. With a thumping heart, I unfolded it and read the words. My stomach lurched.

  I’ve found it! Finally. It was stuck in the back of a book called Mortomis IV. Tommy and I have everything we need to cast the spell. It says we have to perform it at midnight for it to work. That seems like fate. I’m terrified, but this is the right thing to do. This is the last message that I’m going to write to you.