‘Serena—someone got inside Tiera Martelo’s head and made her shoot Pyron Thackeray. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.’
Serena’s face softened at hearing Tiera’s name. ‘Others can do this? I knew Tiera wasn’t a killer.’
‘She said she was drugged.’
‘What? You spoke to her?’
‘In between her beating me senseless, yeah.’
Hot air had filled the room, and Gallows’ throat ached for water.
‘Look, I get it,’ Serena started. ‘I do. I’m scared of… Whatever I am. I tried to run, but they kept coming after me. What choice do I have? And not to be a dick, but if it wasn’t for me, those dogs would’ve mauled you. I don’t want to control people’s minds. I don’t want this power. I’m just a girl... But I can’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.’
Gallows rubbed the back of his head. Dirt had collected in his hair and cuts etched the base of his skull. Serena’s words made sense to him, and it wasn’t like she’d used her powers on a human. But after Nidra…
‘“Do what thou wilt, I beseech thee; for I am Blessed and Damned, no matter”.’
Gallows looked to Enoch. ‘What?’
‘A quote from older versions of the Codex,’ the grey man explained. ‘When the Gods warred with the Orinul and the night seemed blackest, Aerulus—unseated from the war horse Torenir—lay on the ground gasping for breath, his lifeblood seeping from a thousand wounds. Before the demon raised its weapon for the deathblow, Aerulus yelled, “Do what thou wilt, I beseech thee; for I am Blessed and Damned no matter”.
‘That’s… Great.’
‘The point being, whether you use the power bestowed upon you or not, you must not let it define you.’
‘I thought the Orinul were just metaphors,’ said Serena, ‘for sins and stuff.’
‘There are numerous schools of thought.’ Enoch left the sentence hanging there like a thundercloud.
‘Fine, Serena. I’ll help you.’ Gallows fastened his sword sheath around his belt and fixed the knife to the small of his back. ‘We can debate philosophy until Nyr’s Day,’ he said. ‘But right now we need to find Enfield. If Cronin gets to him first, he dies without giving us answers about that lab… About Sera. Enoch.’ Gallows turned to face him. ‘Thank you for helping us—you said you can get us out of here?’
Gallows had great difficulty reading Enoch’s expression; his grey skin and glowing eyes betrayed no emotion. ‘This laboratory you speak of… Was it hidden beneath the desert plains?’
The only thing that surprised Gallows was the absence of surprise. Of course the undead granite monk knew about Outpost One Three Seven. Gallows told him as much.
‘It is where I was born,’ Enoch explained. ‘Or rather, forged; for my sibling and I were nothing more than weapons—swords to be wielded. Unquestioning. Brutal. Lethal.’
‘There’s someone else like you?’ Serena asked.
Gallows answered first. ‘Korvan.’
Enoch examined him. ‘You have encountered him?’
Gallows mopped his brow again. ‘Yeah, you could say that. He killed a good man. Near killed me. What in Belios’ name are you?’
‘We… live and yet should not. But before, we were men—dutiful soldiers in the war, doing as we were bid. We fought in the defence of this kingdom, and they repaid us by…’ Enoch stared down at his palms. ‘Interfering with nature.’
‘You were to be used against the Idari,’ said Gallows. Just like the other shit in One Three Seven.
‘Oh, no—I did not fight in the war to the east,’ said Enoch. ‘I fought against Ryndara.’
Gallows’ skin prickled. Ryndara? ‘That was, what, fifty years ago?’
‘We were sent to investigate the ruin of Palthonheim,’ the Stone Man continued. ‘It is of no import to your current situation.’
‘Like hell! Your “brother” is a monster.’
‘Korvan is a victim—as… as am I…’
Gallows squared his shoulders and unsheathed his blade.
‘That will be next to useless, I am afraid.’
‘Yeah, well, I like having it. Explain everything. Now.’
‘I fear that time runs short-’
Serena brushed past Gallows’ blade. ‘So tell us on the way. C’mon.’
‘This way,’ beckoned Enoch.
In any other circumstance, Serena would have been delighted to explore the depths of the city. Enoch led them down through stone honeycombs and vast, natural chambers picked bare from ignicite mining. Glassy stalactites hung from the ceiling like teardrops painted amber. In a few years, it’d regenerate and expand, ready to be mined again.
Is Enoch right? Is there some kind of ignicite inside me?
‘Why Palthonheim?’ Gallows asked.
‘Elizabeth tal Waverley ordered us to conduct a survey of the area; Palthonheim is the only site to have been decimated by too much ignicite mining; the radiation burns skin from bone. She wanted to weaponise it.’
‘Yep, sounds about right.’
What is it with mankind’s obsession with weapons? Even when they sailed for weeks at a time without seeing land, Serena’s tribe—to use Myriel’s word—trained with swords and guns and bows. Lot of good that did. She bent low and tickled Scruff’s ear.
‘But we encountered resistance,’ continued Enoch. ‘It seemed the Ryndarans were looking for the same thing—and they were better prepared. We… I gave the order: Engage the enemy.’ Enoch’s pace slowed for the first time. ‘The battle lasted minutes. Injured, Korvan dragged me away. We had a boat anchored in the Althon, but… They were too many. We ran through the night, death never more than a mile away. We lost our bearings and came across the ruined city walls. The yellow death claimed us, sent us delirious. Fever choked our senses, strange images took us away like spirits carried by Nyr’s boatman. So desperate was I for glory, I put my brothers-in-arms at risk. They paid the price while I… live on.’
‘And you’ve dedicated your life ever since to helping people?’ asked Serena.
‘Not quite; only in recent times have I found the freedom to atone. My memory is… intermittent, but our bodies were recovered. I know not of the Ryndaran force we encountered, or who retrieved our remains, but we woke—Korvan and I. They hooked us to machines, induced artificial sleep upon us, tested us… They listened not to our protests. And every moment of it was agony. Only my remorse compares; but Korvan… His mind could not sustain the abuses visited upon him. His mind snapped.’
The tunnel grew as silent as a crypt, a chill growing in the air.
‘And then you escaped,’ the Hunter said.
‘Yes. I… could not do what they asked of me. To undertake the orders… No being with a conscience can perform their deeds. So they cast me out to die, and I craved to die—but whatever I am now, whatever is left of the man who led that foolish charge… That is what remains.’
Angelo’s not gonna believe me when I tell him about all this... If I ever see him again.
‘But Korvan’s different.’ Gallows sounded grim.
The shadows on Enoch’s face grew more pronounced. ‘Yes. Korvan has been cleansed of his humanity. That is my greatest sin; that I could not save the man who saved me.’
Serena stepped over a fissure in the ground, soil crumbling beneath her step.
Gallows looked like he’d drop at any moment. He hadn’t spoken to her since they left. Serena got the impression he was making Enoch talk so he could avoid looking at her. She couldn’t blame him; she couldn’t understand herself—how could she hope that someone else would? No wonder Jozef didn’t want you around. No wonder he sent you away. Her family had known all along she was a monster. Those distant memories of growing up on barges and boats, going from place to place, different faces, different voices… No-one wanted her. Jozef was an angry old sod, but he’d kept a hold of her longer than anyone else.
Did he treat her like shit on purpose? Did he keep her at a distance so she’d hate
him—so when he turned her loose, she wouldn’t waste time looking for him?
The desire to escape the bonds of the earth and sail the skies tugged at her even harder. But you can’t have a crew if you put ’em all in danger.
Scruff—Shogarth my ass—padded by her side. You like me, boy, don’t you? And I ain’t even making you.
She cast her thoughts back to the night she found him, how he’d growled and snarled at her, claws scraping on the cobbles before staring up at her and submitting. Had she used the power inside her even then? Had she manipulated his mind without realising? Was he a slave? Was Flicker?
Bile curdled in her stomach. Would Fitz have brought me aboard if he knew I was… Different?
A life of being abandoned had conditioned Serena to keep her distance from people.
Only now did she realise how angry that made her.
Gallows marvelled at how steady Enoch’s lamp was despite the pace he marched at. He also marvelled at following a walking, talking sentient statue, but that didn’t seem important right now.
Enoch related his story. Gallows was in no mood to talk, but of his two companions, Enoch wasn’t the one who scared him.
He caught Serena glancing at him. He became very aware of the crunch his shoes made on the ground, of the whistle of wind.
‘So, tell me about yourself,’ Serena said. She kept her eyes straight ahead. ‘Did you fight in the war?’
He toyed with the idea of ignoring her. Don’t be an asshole. Put yourself in her shoes. ‘Yeah,’ he said.
‘Did your partner?’
‘A bit.’
‘How do you know each other?’
‘You gonna ask questions the whole way?’
‘I didn’t grow up with friends and family.’
If she was trying to make Gallows feel guilty, it worked. ‘He saved my life. I… was taken prisoner. Damien rescued me. He was sent to assassinate me, but… He didn’t.’
‘Why not?’
Gallows could have answered in several ways, but he stuck with, ‘Because he’s not an asshole.’
‘So he saved you and you became Hunters?’
‘Uh, that’s the short version, yeah.’
‘Is he still an assassin?’
‘No. He was trained by the Nyr-az-Telun.’ Serena gave him a blank look. ‘A sect of witch hunters excommunicated from the Fayth centuries ago. No-one knows much about ’em. They gave him skills, taught him to hone his senses. You should see some of things he can do. He went through some kind of trial, but… He killed them all. They were fanatics.’
‘Why did he join them if they were fanatics?’
‘He was forced to. Damien’s from a tiny fishing village in Ryndara called Kvel. I know, I hadn’t heard of it either. Anyway, his mum was a big deal there, a Magister or whatever. She sent him away after…’
‘What?’
‘An accident… A girl drowned in a lake, Damien witnessed it.’
Their footsteps sounded loud in the silence.
‘Did he kill her?’ Serena asked.
Gallows’ eyes found the floor. ‘No. But he could have saved her.’ The truth of the matter was that he didn’t know. He wanted to believe that Damien didn’t kill an innocent girl, but… ‘The townsfolk, they wanted his blood. Seems the girl was the daughter of some rich bloke, and when someone rich dies, well, that’s when the law matters.’
‘So why did his mum send him to these… witch hunters? Why not send him somewhere else?’
‘Who knows? My guess is she did it because they were feared. Who’d go up against hardened demon hunters? I mean, they might be chasing myths and whispers, but the Nyr-az-Telun were believers—they trained hard. Merciless. She sent him away for his own safety.’
Serena arched an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, I’ve heard that.’
‘He’s a good man. But he’s also terrifying. I don’t reckon Kirivanti even knows, but Damien… He’s a killer.’
‘Haven’t you killed people?’
‘Yeah, but not like Damien. He enjoys it. Loves it.’
The girl screwed her face up.
‘Between you and me,’ Gallows continued, ‘I reckon he was sent to the Nyr-az-Telun to control his urges and put ’em to good use.’
‘Yeah, I… saw his face in the opera house.’
The odours in this place were at once damp and dry. Gallows ached for fresh air.
‘So,’ Serena began, readying yet another question, ‘is being a Hunter better than being a soldier?’
Strange question. ‘Never considered it, to be honest.’
‘Did…’
Gallows eyed her. ‘What?’
‘Did you fight in the Sanctecano Isles?’
‘I did.’
For whatever reason, that seemed to make the girl even more solemn. ‘I escaped the fighting there.’
‘I’m glad someone did.’
‘Did… Did you know why the Idari did it? Why they started the war?’
‘Religion. Ignicite. Money. Lots of theories.’
‘Right.’
That seemed to satisfy her, but after a while, she said: ‘The Ratcatchers’ Guild.’
‘Huh?’
‘That’s what we call you. Raincatchers, I mean.’
‘Hah. Well, if feels like the truth and sounds like the truth...’
‘Does it pay well? Do you have, like, a crew?’
‘You thinking about switching career?’
The girl shrugged. ‘I just… I miss having a crew.’
‘Right,’ he said. ‘No, we don’t have a crew. We’re all independent. Like mercenary companies, but all our contracts need to be approved. We can train together, but me and Damien… We work well together.’
Enoch’s lantern bobbed and swayed in the dark like a will-o’-the-wisp.
‘And before you were a soldier?’
Gallows wasn’t used to answering so many questions, but the girl seemed determined to fill the silence. Anyway, for all he knew, she could reach inside his head and pluck the answers out. Better to talk.
‘Let’s just say I was an explorer.’ She appraised him then, one eyebrow arched. ‘I travelled,’ he continued, ‘didn’t stay in one place too long. I was desperate to leave my shithole in Dustwynd.’ Warmth filled his belly like whisky—cheap, nasty whisky. ‘But I always came back.’
‘At least you had a home to come back to,’ Serena replied. ‘Why did you stay? After the fighting I mean?’
Gallows asked himself that question every single day. ‘Damien saved my life.’ He knew it wasn’t an answer. ‘How about you? What’s the orphanage filling your head wi-’
Enoch stopped by a squat stalagmite and lowered the lantern.
‘What is it?’ Gallows asked.
‘There’s a door up ahead, but… Voices.’
‘Soldiers?’ whispered Serena.
‘I do not believe so… Whatever they seek, they have not yet found it.’
Gallows leaned forward, straining to hear. ‘They’ve gotta be looking for Enfield.’
‘Bombs,’ said Enoch. ‘They’re planting explosives.’
Shit. ‘They’re done looking. They’re gonna seal us in. Cronin. Covering his tracks.’
Serena shook her head. ‘Won’t that kill Enfield? Isn’t he looking to arrest him?’
‘Yeah, but I reckon killing him will do. That means Enfield must still be down here somewhere.’
‘There are people in these tunnels.’ Enoch’s voice rolled. ‘Civilians that have no role in this war. They must be warned.’
‘There can’t be that many people,’ Serena said.
‘They dwell in the catacombs beneath the city,’ Enoch explained. ‘Frightened, starving, dying of thirst. When Irros’ Beckon fell to ruin, where do you think the displaced ended up? The churches took in the children wrenched from their mothers—but what of the men and women? Beneath the city there are a thousand souls driven from their homes for a war that wasn’t theirs—it must not happen again.’ Enoch turned
his back on her and Gallows.
‘You can’t leave us,’ Serena urged. ‘He’s had the shit beat out of him and I’m not much better.’
The stone man paused then, before turning his head. ‘I said I would help, and I have. My oath is to the people of this city—to help those that cannot help themselves. I cannot abandon them.’
‘He’s right,’ Gallows said to Serena. ‘Cronin will trample over anyone that gets in his way. With Enoch, at least they’ve got a chance. All we need to do is slip past these guys.’
It wasn’t until Enoch disappeared that Gallows appreciated how much light his lantern afforded.
‘Shouldn’t we go with him?’ Serena asked.
‘We can’t, not without putting other people in danger. He’s their best shot. And if the bombs go off and we’re still here, we’re dead.’
‘Right, fine. Does everything fall to shit around you?’
‘Pretty much,’ answered Gallows.
‘Well, then, I hope you have a plan.’
Gallows peeked over the edge of the mound of ignicite. He’d have to slip past eight of them—no easy task.
‘Reckon we can get out,’ he said, ‘but we have no idea what’s waiting topside.’
‘Sh.’ Serena’s brow furrowed.
‘Huh? What do you hear?’
‘Listen…’
Sure enough, a commotion bubbled away to the far end of the passage. A large shadow with a body slung over its neck marched into the chamber, the weak light from an overhead lamp only highlighting shadows.
‘Enoch?’ Serena’s voice carried a thread of optimism, and given the size, Gallows could forgive her for thinking so.
But it wasn’t Enoch. ‘No,’ Gallows began as the giant’s face resolved from the darkness. ‘His name’s Pierro. And that means these guys are with Farro Zoven.’
Serena swore. How she knew of Farro Zoven, Gallows couldn’t guess.
‘What’s he carrying?’ she asked.
Pierro answered himself.
He dropped his burden onto the stone ground, yanking the burlap sack from Junior Councillor Enfield’s face. He writhed on the floor, bound and gagged.
Pierro pulled the rag from his mouth and booted him in the stomach. A hissing whine leaked from the Junior Councillor.
Symphony of the Wind Page 44