by Chad Queen
“The king signed the Accord,” Hale said, snorting. “Never been so mad. They’re monsters. We all knew it, and here we were, giving them a chance to take our freedom and our dignity.” He shook his head. “I went rogue, my men and I; for us the war never ended. We started raiding the government banks, taking what we could. We would give it to the people in the Ends, give them a fighting chance to survive.”
The man sighed. “Until the king’s own navy found us. Burned our ship while we were still on it. Only a handful of my men and I survived the attack, and our boat was lost. Until we discovered the Manta and started over again.” The man walked back over to Cade and sat down in the chair next to the four-poster bed. “The sea has taken everything from me, one way or another, no matter how hard I fought.”
He stared intently at Cade once more. “Your heroics bought us time, but you know what saved us? The captains of the other ships in port. They blew those bugs right out of the water. I thought everyone had given up; I know I had.” The man smiled. “You and I, we’re protectors. Maybe we try to protect more than we can. But that’s not what counts. People saw what you did. Turns out they didn’t need protection. They needed a reminder. A reminder that we can fight back.” The man stood up, and Cade heard the clink of a coin as it was set on the table beside him. “I owe you one.”
Cade closed his eyes and slept.
“Wake up, Cade. Please wake up.”
Cade opened his eyes and was surprised to see Jace hovering anxiously above him. With some difficulty, Cade sat up. His throat was dry, but he managed a hoarse whisper. “Jace?”
“Thank goodness you’re finally awake. Ashlyn still hasn’t returned.”
Cade rubbed his eyes. His hand ached. He looked at it, and a dark purple bruise ran from his fist to his chest. He stretched it out and made a fist. It still worked.
“Where did she go?”
“She went to the castle to talk to her father about the Skex and see if he can help us fight.”
Cade shook his head. “Bad idea.”
“That’s what I told her, but she seemed convinced she could talk to her father.”
Cade sighed. “What about her agents? Can we find one of them?”
Jace shook his head. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“Could we sneak into the castle?”
“No, I’ve spent hours trying to think of a plan. Here.” Jace opened his codex and flipped to the back, where he kept his maps. He unfolded a large piece of paper that detailed the plans of the castle. “Here is Toltaire Castle. There is only one primary entrance here. It’s guarded around the clock. It’s impenetrable.”
Cade got to his feet. He noticed a challenge coin on the bedside table. In bold, intricate lettering was the name “Wraithbane.” Cade smiled grimly and pocketed the coin.
“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Jace.
“To the castle,” replied Cade.
“I just told you it is impenetrable.”
“I guess we just have to walk in the front door, then.”
22
Eos
Toltaire is the city that sprouted from the overwrought fortress known as Toltaire Castle, which remains the seat of power for the Royal family of Chalice. The fortress itself was constructed upon the edge of a sheer cliff, which falls hundreds of feet into the ocean. It is said there are passages within the castle that extend into the interior of the cliff itself.
—From The History of Chalice
“I am here to request an audience with the princess,” Cade said as he approached the gatehouse of Toltaire Castle. Jace had told him the idea was too risky, that if Ashlyn really was detained, requesting a meeting would only end up with him getting thrown in the dungeon.
Toltaire Castle was the first and strongest fortress of Chalice. Just outside the main Pathway network, the castle backed onto a cliff that protected it from direct attack by sea. A narrow river, the Eremin, flowed just outside the castle’s main gate, serving as natural defensive perimeter before cutting into the cliff and cascading into the sea. The castle itself was enormous, with sixteen towers lining the outer wall and another eight towers lining the inner wall. Inside the inner wall, the towering stone cut an imposing silhouette against the afternoon sun.
The gate guard looked at him through his helmet’s thin visor. “Bearer Elegy? We were not informed of your arrival. Please, we will have a guide escort you to the receiving room.”
Cade nodded and stood until a butler greeted him at the gate. The older gentlemen cast a disapproving glance at Cade’s attire. Cade knew his traveling clothes were not suitable for a royal visit, but he did not have time to waste at a tailor. “This way,” was all the man said, voice dripping with disdain. He led Cade down the inner ward in the grand entrance of the keep.
Where the outside of the castle was utilitarian and cold, the lavish and ornate appointment of the grand entry rivaled the great chapels of Hakken. Countless ornate filigreed sconces lined the room, holding thick, cream-colored candles that cast a warm welcoming glow upon the walls, as well as lighting the facets of the gemstones inset within the central chandelier. Lush red carpets lined the walkways between the other rooms on the floor. Sprawling tapestries hung from the walls, and Cade was surprised to note that some even depicted the battle of the Traveler and the Betrayers. He had assumed those would have been taken down after the Book of the Traveler was banned.
Even more amazing were the decorations and displays a flurry of servants were attending to. They were busy running gilded streamers and putting the finishing touches of fine art exhibitions from Toltaire’s elite artisans.
“Please pardon the mess. I’m sure you are aware of the Crossfort Ball coming up. As a titled member of Chalice, you are welcome to attend as well, of course,” said the butler.
Cade hadn’t really heard what the man said. He was watching a handful of servants busily arranging a display of Ancient artifacts near the front of the room. The presentation case was encrusted with large diamonds and sapphires, but he couldn’t quite see what it held. He held his breath as they neared. Please, please, don’t turn on, he begged as they walked closer.
His prayer was not answered. Once they were within a few feet, the devices sprang to life. A few of them lit up, spilling out blue and green lights throughout the great room. Others begin to whir and emit a series of tones. One servant who had been trying to set up an artifact for decoration fell off his ladder with the artifact itself after it startled him.
The butler rushed over to help the man, but Cade’s attention had turned to an artifact that was being set up as the centerpiece of the exhibit. It was a sword, but unlike any he had ever seen before. It emanated a soft blue light that possessed almost imperceptible movement. Its iridescent surface shifted with the light like liquefied pearls. The blade itself was sleek and long, its tip revealing a shattered edge. The handle and hilt broke the aesthetic, since they were the design of a Chalician artisan. As Cade moved closer, he felt the Traveler’s ring pull tight against his finger. A split-second later, the world fell away, and he was once again thrust into the Firmere. In a room filled with people and artifacts, he found himself surrounded by the bright, swirling smoke of life and machine. But greater than all of it was the incredible blue vortex swirling around the blue shard.
Cade Elegy. He stopped, hearing the voice in his mind. The voice was not one he had heard before. Confirmed phantom match. Exiting sleep and entering pairing mode. Please stand by.
Cade continued walking forward, reaching for the vortex before him. Hello, Cade. I am Eos.
Two entities moved before him, and another whisked to his side. “This exhibit is off limits,” a gruff voice said.
Cade snapped out of his trance, and the encoding with the Traveler’s ring broke. He found himself looking at the strange sword but was barred by two guards in front of him who were eyeing him suspiciously. He turned to see the butler had returned to his side. “Sir, I’m afraid I cannot permit
you to touch it. It is the grand prize for the Crossfort Tournament. Please excuse the artifacts…we’re not quite sure what is happening. This way, please.”
What was that? Cade thought as the butler led him out of the room and down a wide hallway. The man stopped just outside a small sitting room. “The princess will be notified of your arrival. I must tell you the princess has fallen ill, and will not be receiving anyone in person. However, a court—”
“That’s fine. I’ll wait,” Cade cut in. At least I know that if she can’t meet me, she’s being held against her will.
The butler raised an eyebrow. “Very well. An attendant will be by shortly with refreshments,” he said as he pivoted and left the receiving room.
Cade sat and waited until the butler’s footsteps could no longer be heard from down the hall. Eos, he thought. That was who…or what…Tal had asked him to find. What was it doing at the castle? Cade shook his head. Focus, Cade. I must help the princess.
He stood up, poked his head out, and confirmed the old man was no longer in sight. He spied a noble walking through the entryway with another man who might have also been a noble. There were still many servants bustling about the area. The extra activity would allow him to move about without rousing too much suspicion.
He pulled out the map Jace had made for him. Cade remembered the story Ashlyn had told him when they first met. Her father had locked his own young daughter in the castle dungeon. What was to stop him from doing it again? He took a left out the room, trying his best to appear nonchalant as the workers busied by.
He found the servant’s hall that connected to the grand entry and slipped inside. From there, he made his way past the servant quarters and found a door that led to a trash chute.
“Hey!” a voice sounded from behind. Cade froze.
A man rushed up to him. The dark silver color of tungsten began to spread across Cade’s arm as he made a fist.
“Are you Cade Elegy?”
Cade nodded, keeping his hand behind his back.
“Oh, wow! I’m not…supposed to ask, but can I have your autograph?”
Cade nodded again, feeling dumb. He released his encoding, signed the man’s ledger, and shook his hand. He breathed a sigh of relief as the guard marched away. He would have to be more careful. His face was too recognizable within the castle.
He took a right and found himself in the hallway that should lead to the back entrance to the dungeon. It would be guarded, of course, but being less traveled, it would buy him precious moments. As predicted, two guards were stationed in front of the entrance he needed. He made as if to walk by them when he lunged at the first guard and hit the base of the man’s neck to knock him out. The other guard, scrambling to ready his weapon, started to yell, but Cade was already upon him and put the man into a headlock until he passed out. They would both live. So far, so good. He slipped into the entrance and descended the spiral staircase into the dungeon.
In the dungeon corridor, he heard the groans of the imprisoned denizens. There was also a persistent hissing that he couldn’t quite place. As his eyes began to adjust to the meager torchlight, he saw rows and rows of locked doors with small, barred windows, perhaps fifty in all. He cursed under his breath. This is going to take a while, he thought. The dungeon was damp and smelled of mildew. The subterranean veins of the Eremin river must run close to the dungeon.
There was also something else in the air, a smell like burning sulfur. It was familiar, but he didn’t remember where he had smelled it before. He checked door after door, but most of the cells were empty. He was hurrying from cell to cell. By now, the attendant would have noticed his disappearance. And if he couldn’t find Ashlyn before the guards he dispatched were discovered, they wouldn’t make it out in time.
The smell started to get to him. It was becoming stronger. He stopped running, but not because he wanted to. His feet became heavy, too heavy. Everything seemed delayed. He turned his head, and the images his eyes sent back seemed more like pages from a children’s animated flip book. Even his thoughts seemed to slow down. But his brain did manage to finish one full thought before he collapsed, choking for air: it smells like nerve gas.
Figures wearing masks were upon him as his muscles seized. He tried to encode, but his body failed him. They grabbed Cade and threw him into a cell at the end of the hall. He only caught flashes of the strange, padded room as he struggled to breathe. A blindfold was wrapped tight around his head, and he could feel his wrists, legs, and neck bound with some type of fabric. He heard the masked guards shuffle out of the room as the door slammed shut. Cade tried to encode to his bonds, but doing so only caused his restraints to tighten around his wrists and neck.
I’m going to die here, Cade thought as the restraints choked him. He released the encoding on his bonds, but they stayed taut. His phantoms were present, but they were of no use to him here. He was swaying ever so slightly and sensed that his body had been suspended from the ceiling, facing the ground.
The blindfold was thick and cut into his temples. He couldn’t look to see if there was anything around worth encoding with. His hands and legs were tied, and they had taken all his rings, even his wedding ring. He had not taken the ring off since the war. He felt…lesser, somehow, without it.
The room was quiet save for muffled scratching of rats in the distance.
He had been in prisons before—misunderstandings happen when you are a Bearer—but this was nothing like those times. He continued to struggle, gasping for the air that could not enter his constricted throat. He began to feel the edge of his consciousness crumble until cold water splashed across his face.
“Did you think you were the first Bearer to break in here?” The man’s tone was contemptuous, and he spat on Cade. The man loosened the restraint on his neck. “Don’t want you dying before we have what we need.”
He could hear the man crouch down next to him. “Like your restraints? Our trapmaster helped design this prison, special for your blasphemous lot. The more you encode with them, the tighter the restraints become. Ingenious, really.”
Cade remained silent.
“Why don’t you make this easy and tell me what you, the supposed Protector the Realm, think you were up to trying to sneak in here?”
“Just trying to get to the ball.” His voice was strained and weak.
The man kicked him square in the ribs. Cade grunted.
“I’m impressed you made it this far, I really am.” He heard the man pacing. “I know you were helping the princess. What I don’t know is what you’re after. Tell me, and I will ask the king to consider a lighter sentence for you.”
A lie. They had no intention of granting mercy to a rogue Bearer, Protector of the Realm or no.
“Won’t talk?” The man sighed. He grabbed Cade’s bruised arm and began to twist it. Cade encoded to the straps.
The man cursed as Cade’s arm became impossibly pliable and he fell backward. Cade reversed the encoding, forcing the energy outward and knocking the confused man over.
After a few moments, Cade felt the man’s foot once again meet his ribs, sending agonizing pain shooting through his chest. He coughed and tasted blood in his mouth. Cade’s old refrain surfaced within his mind.
One more day.
23
The Bearer’s Choice
The burden of the Pact does not rest solely on the Bearer. The phantom defies its calling…the constant pull to ascend to a greater state of being. The reasons a phantom chooses to remain are many. Finding that reason rests upon the Bearer.
—From The Book of the Traveler
“I hope my theory is right,” Ashlyn said as she continued to scratch and scrape at the wall. The utensil was ill-suited to the task, leaving her hands blistered and raw. She fought the urge to curse; it was unbecoming of a princess. Besides, she didn’t want to draw attention. She wasn’t sure when they would come back again. She was just happy they had not noticed the spoon missing from her plate.
Of course, t
hey hadn’t treated her as they would a “real” prisoner. She got nice meals and all the comforts befitting royalty. It did not lessen her fury that her own father had once again locked her down here. She had been stupid. She wasn’t convinced of his involvement with the Wraiths before, but she was certain now.
Ashlyn had clung to the far-flung hope that everything was a big misunderstanding. That it was all orchestrated by the Wraiths, and her father was just trying to run his kingdom as best he could. She didn’t know why she continued to defend him; he had done nothing to earn her affection. But he was still her father, and that bond was tough to break.
She continued to chip away at the mortar in the wall. She was getting somewhere, but it was taking longer than she imagined. A bigger chunk broke loose, and she nearly yelped with excitement before catching herself. She redoubled her efforts.
Her father was keeping her away for a reason. Maybe he thought she would get in the way of whatever was going on and didn’t care for the rumors this type of behavior would stir up. She was glad she had not revealed any details about the Foundation.
Another piece broke off. She grinned. Ashlyn took the other end of the spoon, inserted it into the hole, and pounded the spoon with her shoe as if it were a hammer. It was lucky that she was wearing her heavier traveling shoes when they had put her in the cell. The last piece broke free.
Ashlyn put her eye up to the hole, but the cell was dark, and it was hard to see anything.
“Cade?” she whispered.
Silence.
“Cade, it’s Ashlyn,” she said, louder now.
“Ashlyn?” A raspy voice answered back. It was very weak, but she recognized it.
“Cade!” Her theory had been right. “How’s that rescue coming along?”
“Part…of the plan.” She heard him cough. He did not sound well.
Ashlyn let out a sigh of relief and slumped down upon the stone bench. When she heard the commotion outside earlier, she had a feeling it might be him.