“We don’t have to do these things.” she said. Her eyes gazed into his, searching; seeking. At first he did not know what for, but then it occurred to him that she was gauging if she could trust him. He could feel his own Caliber playing upon her’s in a way he had never felt before. It felt like she was consuming his Caliber; like his wanted to be a part of hers. In his Ev-muddled mind he suddenly wanted to hold her, and his hand clasped over hers upon his cheek.
“Come with me,” she said. “Let me show you something.”
Without really realizing it, Hadraniel was pulled by his hand down the street with her. They came upon a large building made of cobblestone. In many places the wall had crumbled, leaving large gaps and holes. Most of the thatched roof was in good repair, but even that was not entirely without holes. There was a rickety wooden door and Karinael pushed it open, revealing a large, open chamber beyond where the dawn light cascaded through holes in the roof and walls. Old straw littered the floor everywhere, and in a few places there were broken crates and ancient, worm-eaten barrels that held nothing. Karinael rushed him to the far end of the building where there were some old, moldy timbers upon the floor. There was a particularly large sheet of wood resting there as well, and Karinael moved it aside with her foot to reveal a wooden ladder leading down into a dark hold.
Hadraniel peered down. Dozens of eyes set upon sunken, skeletal faces looked up at him. Babies began to cry. A child wearing little more than rags screamed at his sight, and the father placed a bony hand over the child’s mouth. The man with the bolt-thrower was there too. Of the bunch he was the only one in something other than rags; the only one who was not half-starved. He stood sentinel before some sacks of grain and crates full of vegetables.
“What… what is this?” asked Hadraniel.
“They’re people.” said Karinael. “They are people and they need our help.”
Hadraniel looked at her.
“The shipments of food that have been coming in,” said Karinael. “I’ve been helping with them.”
Hadraniel’s silver eyes went wide. “If Gatima finds out… If Nuriel finds out…”
“Nuriel sent me here to spy on the people.” said Karinael. “But I was helping them move the shipment into here. And that’s when Nuriel came. When the Jinn saw her, they fired on her.”
Hadraniel shook his head. “Does she know what you’ve been doing?”
“No.” admitted Karinael. “And she doesn’t need to. But we don’t always have to do what we’re supposed to, either. These are people, Hadraniel. People.”
Hadraniel shook his head. He placed his hand on the pommel of his sword at his side.
“His name is Gabidar.” said Karinael, pointing at the bearded man with the bolt-thrower. “He and the Jinn have been secretly bringing food into Jerusa for the last year. I help them when I can.”
“Gabidar? That’s not a Jerusan name.” said Hadraniel. By decree of King Gatima, all Jerusans had to name their children after something his lands provide.
“I’m Narberethan.” said the man. “These people have nothing. Let them be. Let us all be. Aeoria have mercy.”
“Aeoria have mercy,” said the rest of the men and women, almost as one. They hugged their children close as their eyes continued to peer up at Hadraniel.
“Why do you do this?” Hadraniel asked the man. “Why do you risk your life to do this?”
The man did not answer.
Hadraniel shook his head. He looked at Karinael. “If Nuriel and the others find out…”
“They don’t have to.” said Karinael, looking him in his eyes. Hers were beautiful eyes. Eyes like the finest amber, as crystalline and perfect as her hair. “I know you’re not like the others. I know it. I can feel it. Nuriel once told me about you. She said you fought beside her once, and that you seemed kind. You’ve also kept her secrets. You can keep this one too.”
Once again she placed her soft hand on his cheek. Hadraniel closed his eyes, taking in her Caliber. It was warm and kind and in that moment he felt her more certainly than he felt the Ev within his blood. It was strange, but he thought he could feel her taking in his Caliber as well. It made him feel strangely whole; whole in a way he had never felt before. He wanted to stand there with her; to just be there with her. And he never wanted any of the other Saints to find them.
“You can help people.” said Karinael, her voice as gentle and soothing as the summer winds. “We can help people. We don’t have to be like the others.”
Hadraniel looked into her eyes one last time, then looked down into that hole. A sea of pale, sunken faces. Large eyes with no light left within them. Children more frail than porcelain dolls. With his foot, Hadraniel slid the board back over the hole.
“Thank you.” whispered Karinael.
He looked at her, and was about to touch her cheek when there was a terrible crack. Both their heads whipped around. Nuriel stood in the broken doorway. Her face was speckled with blood. It clung to her Star-Armor like blights and stained her white bodysuit. Her golden eyes found them and narrowed into slits. “What are you two doing?”
Karinael took a few steps forward. “I was just… We were going…”
Nuriel stormed forward, her eyes flicking between the two. Hadraniel found himself suddenly feeling like he had as a child when Mother Brendaline caught him sneaking her tarts. “Where were you two?”
Neither answered.
Hadraniel found Nuriel’s eyes squarely fixed on him. He squirmed on his feet as she looked past him, at the floor. She looked back at him. “What are you two doing?”
“Nuriel,” said Karinael, placing a hand on her shoulder pauldron. “It’s okay, just—”
Hadraniel caught the brief flicker of a shadow at the door. Green goggles gleamed. He saw the barrel of a Jinn’s bolt-thrower rise. In an instant his Caliber shown a brilliant gold and he dove forward, his star-metal breastplate impacting Karinael’s with a crack. He was briefly aware of the flash and heavy, metallic JINK! as he landed on top of her. The bolt harmlessly but painfully exploded off the back of his breastplate. By the time he looked up, Nuriel was already on the Jinn. It fired and Nuriel moved her forearm up, the bolt exploding off her bracer. It tried to fire again but her sword moved up, and the thing’s gun was split in half. A downward stroke and the creature fell in two halves before her.
Nuriel spun around. Fresh blood streaked her face.
Hadraniel helped Karinael back to her feet. Nuriel’s golden eyes, once molten by the heat of her fury, seemed to soften a bit upon him. Then she turned to Karinael and that fury returned. “I told you to stay put!” she barked. She stormed forward and practically tossed Hadraniel aside. She grabbed Karinael around the collar of her breastplate and Karinael made a little yelp as Nuriel brought her close.
“Nuriel—” Karinael’s voice stuck as Nuriel shook her.
“I told you to stay put! What were you two doing in here?” she growled. Karinael’s eyes betrayed her. Nuriel turned her head, her eyes focused on that board. She pushed Karinael away and stormed over to it. She reached down to pick it up when Karinael grabbed her hand.
“Nuriel, please,” said Karinael.
Nuriel stopped, but Hadraniel was certain he saw a darkness brewing inside her. Her face seemed overcome by shadows, and her body seemed to tremble as a terrible anger surfaced. Like a volcano erupting, Nuriel’s Caliber suddenly flared a blinding white and she swatted Karinael across her breastplate, sending the young Saint flying back and tumbling across the floor. With a roar Nuriel ripped the board from the floor and threw it across the room where it smashed to rotten pieces against the wall.
From below, Hadraniel heard the cries of children and the shrieks of women.
“I knew it!” Nuriel sounded like a rabid dog. She spun around to face Karinael, spit flying from her mouth. “I knew it!”
“Nuriel…” said Kar
inael meekly, still sitting on the floor many feet away.
“Get up!” growled Nuriel as she stormed over to Karinael. “I said get up!”
Karinael flinched as Nuriel moved in on her. She yelped in pain as Nuriel grabbed her around the bicep and threw her up onto her feet.
“What are you thinking! What are you thinking!” Nuriel pushed Karinael on the breastplate so hard that she fell back down, landing hard on her butt. “Get up! Get! Up!”
“Nuriel—” Nuriel yanked Karinael back up to her feet. “You’re hurting—”
“Do you know what I gave up for you!” roared Nuriel. “You wanted to be Saints Caliber, well this is it!”
Hadraniel felt like a terrified little boy, to impotent to react to the anger and hatred that surrounded him. He stood by the hole, listening as the screams of children and women echoed from the darkness below, while Nuriel bulled and roared at Karinael. Then he saw movement and chanced a glance over. Gabidar emerged from the hold, carrying two children with him. Their eyes met briefly and Hadraniel mouthed the word, “Run”.
Gabidar struggled up the ladder with the children and then quickly reached down, grabbing up child after child as Nuriel screamed and pushed Karinael around, oblivious to what was taking place. Hadraniel watched as the man pulled up a few more children, but as he reached down for another Hadraniel grabbed his shoulder. “You have to go. Now.”
Gabidar looked at him. He nodded solemnly. “Thank you,” he whispered. He gathered the children he had pulled out and turned to leave when Hadraniel grabbed his shoulder again.
“There’s two more of us out there.” he said.
Gabidar made a quick nod and ushered about seven children out the back where a large crack in the wall led out into the streets.
“Nuriel, stop it!” screamed Karinael as Nuriel pushed her hard on the chest again. “If you’d just listen—”
“Shut-up, Karin! I can’t help you anymore!” screamed Nuriel. “I gave up everything for you and all you’re doing is throwing it away! How long did you think you could keep this up? How long! Did you think I was going to help you? Did you!?” She pushed her.
Karinael stumbled and fell onto her butt. She flinched as Nuriel came at her again. “I don’t like it when you’re on Ev!” she wailed.
Nuriel paused. Hadraniel could really see the darkness fall upon Nuriel now and he cringed even as he stood.
“Oh, you don’t?” said Nuriel in one of the most cold, callous voices he had ever heard.
“You take too much.” said Karinael meekly, scrunching her knees up to her chest. “You’re not yourself.”
Nuriel snarled and grabbed Karinael around her breastplate and dragged her to her feet. “You’re going to finish this job.” she said, ice in her voice.
“Nuriel, no! Wait!” screamed Karinael as Nuriel dragged her across the floor, toward the hold. She threw her down at the foot of the hole. “Finish the job!”
The women and children screamed from below. The men began to recite prayers to Aeoria. “Nuriel, please!” begged Karinael, tears forming in her eyes. “Stop it!”
“Finish it!”
“No!” cried Karinael. “We don’t have to do this! We don’t! If you’d just—”
Nuriel slapped her hard across the face, nearly spinning her. Karinael recoiled as she looked up at Nuriel, a blot of blood forming at her nose. Nuriel’s fists clenched tightly and she seemed to tremble as she stood. She turned, and in that brief moment Hadraniel saw her face. Her eyes blazed with blind anger. Her face was shadowed in rage. She grabbed the claymore from her back.
“Nuriel, don’t!” begged Karinael.
Nuriel dropped down into the hold. Hadraniel looked away and Karinael wept as the uproar of screams was quickly silenced, one-by-one. Nuriel climbed up the ladder, her face and hair dripping with crimson.
Karinael lay upon the floor weeping; defeated. “I can’t be with you anymore,” she cried. “I can’t be with you anymore.”
Nuriel didn’t say anything as she stood there, dripping with blood, her chest heaving with every gulp of air. She turned to Hadraniel, her eyes like molten beads of gold against a sea of red. “She’s yours now. I assign her to you.”
Hadraniel gulped. He tried to look at her but his eyes turned down. “But… only Holy Father or the Oracles can assign constellations…”
“I am Holy Father’s Saint!” her growl sounded more demonic than anything.
Hadraniel gulped again. He nodded. He felt her grab the collar of his breastplate and bring him to her face. “Nothing happens to her.” she said with such cold authority that it gave him a chill. “If she dies under your guard, I will find you.”
Hadraniel nodded.
She turned to Karinael and strode over to her, leaving bloody footprints in her wake. Karinael lay upon her side, weeping, as Nuriel crouched by her ear. She leaned down and Hadraniel saw her whisper something into Karinael’s ear. Karinael’s weeping intensified. Nuriel stood. She turned her head and took one last look at Hadraniel, then turned and walked to the door just as Adonael and Cirial entered. They both stopped short as they looked upon her.
“What happened?” asked Adonael, looking around, his eyes finding Karinael crying upon the floor.
“Let’s go. Both of you.” said Nuriel. “We report back to Gatima that this city is cleared. Then I’m returning to Sanctuary.”
They both looked at Hadraniel. “What about him?” asked Adonael. “Hadraniel is part of my constellation. I would—”
“Not anymore.” said Nuriel. “He and Karinael can stay and clean this up.”
Adonael took one last look at Hadraniel and then nodded at Nuriel. “As you say.” Then he and Cirial escorted Nuriel out the door, leaving Hadraniel and Karinael alone in that terrible place…
“Well, what?” asked Karinael, and Hadraniel shook himself from his reverie. He swore he could still see Nuriel’s bloody footprints. “What did you want to ask me?”
Hadraniel shook his head and had to look around to make sure he wasn’t still in that warehouse. Those memories still seemed so real and vivid. His eyes found hers and she stroked her hand down his cheek.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
The fear of what Gatima might want with them played upon his heart again and he looked into Karinael’s eyes. “That first day we met,” said Hadraniel. “Nuriel whispered something into your ear and it frightened you. What did she say?”
Karinael smiled, but Hadraniel knew her too well. It was a forced smile, and the question had unnerved her. “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.” she said, trying to sound chipper. “Besides, no time to worry about that right now. We have to see what Gatima wants.” One of the things Hadraniel knew about Karin was that she would ramble and talk and try to dismiss everything with jokes if she got nervous or upset. She was doing it now, he knew. “I’m sure he just wants us to do one of his usual tasks,” she continued. “HOW DARE THOSE PEOPLE GROW CORN WITHOUT ME KNOWING!” she boomed slowly and steadily, using her best King Gatima-mocking voice as she lumbered in a circle around Hadraniel, her chest puffed out and her arms bent at her sides. “HOW DARE THEY USE MY STONES TO MAKE A HOUSE! HOW DAR—”
“Shh!” hissed Hadraniel, trying but failing not to laugh as he grabbed her around the shoulders and stopped her in mid-step. He glanced up at the towers that loomed high above, but didn’t immediately see any guards watching them.
Karinael’s big smile brightened her face and she tapped Hadraniel on his forehead. “Stop worrying so much. We’ll just do what we always do when he sends us out on one of his assignments.”
Hadraniel’s smile faded to a frown as Karin strode past him. ‘Doing what they always do’ was what was starting to worry him. He knew that Nuriel was onto them. He could tell. He had seen it in her eyes the last time they met. He wondered if they had been called to the castle because
King Gatima had now somehow found out; if perhaps even Nuriel had told him. If Gatima did know, they’d never be leaving that monstrous castle alive.
“Come on,” she waved her hand. “Let’s get this over with.”
Hadraniel sighed. He shook his head and cursed her unwavering, infectious optimism and hurried to catch up to her.
As they strode past the walls and menacing towers, the sprawl of the city opened up to them. Here, at the outskirts of Gatimaria, the houses were little more than ramshackle dens cobbled together of rotten timbers, junk and mud. They couldn’t even rightly be called houses. Most had nothing more than a curtain of fabric for a door. Deeper into the city the homes had more structure to them, but certainly nobody outside of the castle lived in anything more than abundant poverty.
For such a large, sprawling city, it was eerily quiet but for the subdued cries of babies that floated through the air. There was no smoke from any of the chimneys. There were no aromas of food cooking, not even the scent of livestock and the manure that comes with them. There were no children playing in the streets or merchants going about business. There were no shops or stores; no taverns or inns. There were only quiet streets lined with dilapidated homes long plundered of even their glass windows.
And through it all there was a terrible odor that haunted the air, and Hadraniel thought it was a cruel, twisted joke. The miasma that hung over the city was not from filth or waste or even excrement. The terrible odor emanated from silos and great chambers locked within the city’s walls where tons of grains, fruits and vegetables sat and rotted. Even from here Hadraniel could see black clouds of flies swirling around certain sections of the wall, their buzzing distant but terrible. Upon one tower so many maggots crawled upon a silo window that it looked like white fungus all up and down the stones. Some frail men and women padded like dogs in the dirt beneath it, their hands hungrily pecking at all that fell.
Hadraniel felt Karinael’s soft hand slip into his own. He squeezed it tightly and then broke their grasp, lest spying eyes were to see.
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