The Oracle's Prophecy

by Alex Leopold

  “She suspects something. But that’s a long way from guessing I’m a Skyman.

  The seven of them had agreed to keep Ellis’ background a secret for the time being. If King Kalahar had believed the Skymen had joined forces with the Directory, it was possible the resistance had believed it, too.

  “We’ll explain everything when we meet the resistance leaders.” Riley advised.

  “So for now, best you don’t fly any more dragons.” Cooper said with a wink as she started to descend the stairs.

  “Then don’t get picked up by one, okay?” He whispered in her ear as he followed her down.

  “Good, come have something to eat.” Acadia said waving them over to join him after they entered the kitchen.

  He was sitting in a small nook at the far end of the room eating breakfast. As they approached, he squeezed his considerable frame further into the booth to make room for them and the round table creaked loudly in protest as he moved.

  “You shouldn’t have let us sleep so long.” Cooper grumbled.

  “You needed the rest.” Acadia replied calmly as he poured them all large cups of something warm. “We all did.”

  “So tell us?”

  Acadia began. “Seems Weaver's a broadcaster. After you fell asleep she made contact with the resistance. I had Malthus monitor their discussion so we know what was said.”

  “And?” Cooper asked, her pulse quickening.

  “Their less than four days ride away.” He replied, pausing to let that settle in, then added. “They’re sending riders to take us to them.”

  “Why don't they just tell us where they are?” Riley asked through a full mouth as she greedily devoured everything on the table.

  “Weaver’s been told these parts are now crawling with King Kalahar’s men. Seems the Directory has offered him a substantial reward to bring us in.

  “We’re safer waiting here right now. When the resistance arrives, they’ll bring horses and ammunition, and a plan to get us out.”

  Cooper felt the tension in her body rise from the news and her hand checked the pistol on her hip. Acadia noticed and steadied her with a calming hand.

  “Mayat and Red are watching the woods for us. We have some time.”

  “But not as much as we'd like." Weaver huffed as she came striding in from another room with Malthus in tow.

  In her hand was a massive and yet crudely built rifle. The weapon was much taller than the short woman and as she maneuvered it through the kitchen she looked to be in constant danger of catching it on a wall or cabinet.

  “Weaver just made contact again with the resistance.” Malthus said. “They have news.”

  “They’re sending a man named Narmbek, who’ll be able to get you through Kalahar’s territory safely.” Weaver started as she sat with them in the nook.

  When her eyes fell on the twins, she paused for a moment to look at them.

  “You both look much better.” The old woman admired with much satisfaction before returning to the matter at hand.

  “This Narmbek”, she continued. “I know him. He’s the captain of a smuggling train that operates in these parts. Now he's a bandit and a thief, but he's no friend of the Directory and we can trust him in this instance.”

  “When can he be here?” Acadia asked as he used his thumb to pack a wad of tobacco into a pipe he'd found somewhere.

  “Five hours from now.”

  “That soon.” Acadia said with surprise.

  “Kalahar’s men are close. We don’t have the luxury of time.”

  “There’s more.” Malthus added speaking quickly. “The resistance think they’ve found the city where the first part of the Liberty Key is.”

  That stunned them all, but rather than wait to let them digest it, Malthus kept speaking.

  “They've known about the city for sometime, and they're making their way to it right now. That's where this Narmbek is going to take us.”

  “I can't believe it.” Riley whispered.

  “Don't get too excited.” Weaver warned her. “The city is currently surrounded by Directory forces. It’s not going to be easy to get inside and find the Key. We may have to fight our way in.”

  “This is exactly what the book predicted!” Cooper burst out.

  Grabbing the notebook from her sister’s hands, she opened it to the right page.

  || The moment the resistance receives the prophecy, an order is given to the three generals to attack a city and strike a powerful blow against the Directory ||

  “This is it! This is what Nakano saw.” Cooper said stabbing the page with her finger.

  “Something in this book is going to help the resistance win this battle, and we need to get it to them as soon as possible.” She continued, suddenly impatient to get moving.

  “They probably don’t know the Key’s location.” Riley suggested and flipped to the page that described where it could be found.

  || A vault-sized large metal door is guarded by an eagle the size of a colossal, and a god-like man with angel’s wings. Behind the door something important is hidden. Through a nearby window a lost civilization city is spread out far below ||

  “Don't let me see anymore.” Weaver told them closing the book. “Just get this information to the Quiet Lady, she'll know what to do with it.”

  “Will the three generals be there?” Riley asked her own voice brimming with enthusiasm.

  Weaver nodded. “Everyone is waiting for you, yes.”

  Then she wrapped her knuckles on the table as much to get herself moving as to motivate the others to do the same.

  “You must be ready to leave the moment Narmbek gets here.” She announced as she stood.

  “Kalahar knows about me and my links with the resistance. He will not waste time sending his men to my door.”

  “We'll be ready.” An enthusiastic Cooper replied for the others.

  “I will let Mayat and Redtail know the plan.” Malthus announced standing and moving to the back door.

  After unlatching the door, he dug his fists deep into the pockets of his tattered brown leather coat and made his leave.

  This innocent gesture – of placing both hands into his pockets at the same time – was anything but.

  It was a signal.

  A way for Malthus to communicate a message to the others without Weaver knowing. The message was simple: something was wrong.

  73

  The skin-reader found his Myrmidon leader on the top floor of a steel tower. He was standing at the floor's edge, his body exposed to the high winds and elements.

  Stretched out in front of him was an ocean of rolling white clouds, unbroken but for the spires of the sky scraping towers. They loomed out of the mist like shark’s fins rising out of the water.

  “We've heard from Hellanta, the Great Inventor is dead.” Control tapped when the skin-reader was only a few steps behind him.

  “And the others?”

  “Some men of ours will have them in our custody before the day is out.”

  A fierce gust of wind blew through the building buffeting the skin-reader and driving him back a pace. It should've knocked his leader over the edge but Control was unaffected and remained standing where he was with his arms crossed behind his back.

  “And what of our orders?”

  “The gateway in Charlottetown will be ready shortly.” Control tapped. “Once you’re there, the Hangman will lead you to Hellanta to intercept the prisoners.”

  “You are not coming?”

  “The Archon needs me here.” Control tapped gesturing his head toward the nearby guards, and Skymen. The men were almost finished with their detailed search of the floor.

  The task was a lesson in futility. The men were looking for the Liberty Key. As they didn't know what it was or even what it looked like, they’d never know even if they ever found it. Yet, these were the orders of the Archon so they followed them to the letter. They were Control's orders, too, so here he would remain.

  “But you
want something from me.” It was a statement rather than a question.

  “The girl called Riley in their company. I don’t want her to be captured alive.”

  “Okay, but what's in it for me?”

  “What do you want?” Control asked.

  The skin-reader did not hesitate.

  “I want to look into your mind.”

  He was sure Control would say, no. The skin-reader was surprised when he agreed almost immediately.

  “While you’re in there, I want you to correct something for me. Can you do that?”

  The skin-reader held up his blackened fingertips.

  “I can make you forget your past, your name. I can even make you forget how to breathe. What is it you'd like me to do.”

  Control turned away to look southward. “I want you to darken my soul. I want you to find that part of my head that is governed by my heart, and poison it.”

  Weaver's home was an old lost civilization structure located on the main street of some nameless ghost town that had long ago been abandoned to the forest. Facing her house, across a street that nature had turned into a field of tall grass, was a three-level red-brick building that had somehow remained standing over the last two and a half centuries. From its roof, Weaver had told them they'd have an almost perfect view of the surrounding area and it was from here that Redtail watched for Narmbek’s party to arrive.

  As the sun began to set, Riley saw the houndsman finally stand and point toward the north end of the street. Someone was coming.

  The five men rode in quickly on horses steaming with sweat, only coming to a halt when they reached Acadia who was waiting for them in front of Weaver's home.

  “Is that Narmbek?” Riley asked as she looked through a crack in the shutters at the man speaking with their ursinian.

  The smuggling train captain was easily recognizable. He towered over the other men as if he were a ursinian himself. Before he even climbed down from his horse he already began barking commands with a loud booming voice.

  He ordered three men to watch the street while the other two were told to tie and feed the seven spare horses they'd brought with them.

  “Don't get comfortable!” He finished with a loud snap as he nervously checked the time on a large antique pocket watch fished from a deep pocket in his long coat. Then he was striding quickly into the house with Acadia following him in.

  “This your man?” The ursinian asked Weaver after they both stooped their heads to fit under the door frame.

  “Yes, and I recognize the men in his crew, too.” Weaver replied trying to diffuse the agitation she could clearly detect in the room.

  “You don't trust me. That's good.” An irritated Narmbek cut in gruffly as he checked the watch at his hip for the second time in as many minutes.

  Then he focused his attention on the two young girls in front of him.

  “Your problem though is that King Kalahar's men are less than ten miles away, we almost didn't get here before them. Now you can either come with us right now, and maybe we'll get passed them, or you can stay and face those riders alone.

  “Trust me or not, I don't care. I’m not waiting around for you to try and mind read me in order to come to the conclusion that I am not a threat.”

  Riley looked at Cooper and Malthus to see what they were thinking. They both still looked suspicious and had not lowered their weapons.

  “Why don’t you show them the mark.” Weaver suggested to the captain of the train.

  Narmbek gave her an impatient look but rolled up the sleeve of his coat anyway, pushing it up till they were able to see the old scar on his forearm. It had been cut with a knife and was in the shape of a torch with a flame; the mark of the Torchbearers.

  “That’s a death sentence if any Directory man ever sees it.” He scoffed as he rolled down his sleeve, and it was clear to Riley that Narmbek wasn’t in the business of being polite.

  “He’s rough around the edges but you can trust him, I promise.” Weaver implored not needing to see Narmbek’s timepiece to know they were wasting precious time.

  The decision to stay or go, was Riley’s to make. She gave a quick glance to Acadia and Malthus for their opinion. Neither man looked happy, but nodded their heads anyway.

  “Okay, we’ll go with you.” Riley confirmed to Narmbek.

  “But understand this”, Malthus interrupted. “The ursinian here is going to be staying very close to you while we’re together.”

  “That’s right.” Acadia nodded. “Anything happens, I’ll kill you first.”

  Narmbek gave him a look of contempt. “You can threaten me when we’re out of danger teddy-bear, okay?”

  “Enough talk!” An impatient Weaver said placing her vast body between the two men to force them apart. “It’s time to leave!”

  “You’re coming with us, aren’t you?” Cooper asked her.

  Weaver gave her a sympathetic look then shook her head. “I’m afraid mine is only a small role to play in your fate. I’m going to stay here and try and buy you as much time as I can when the King’s men arrive.”

  “They might kill you, Weaver.” Narmbek told her with a sigh.

  “I’m an old woman.” She said to them all with a proud smile. “And unlike you men, I wish to die in my home and not on some nameless battlefield.”

  Riley wanted to say something to change her mind, but the captain wanted her, Malthus and Cooper to join him.

  “Weaver says, you three are crinks.”

  They nodded.

  “I need you to promise, you’ll keep your powers locked up while we're riding together, okay?” Said Narmbek as he bent down to look at them all in the eye. “Easiest way for any snoopers to find us is a faulty crink who can't control their abilities.”

  “We’ll do as you say, Captain.” Malthus agreed on behalf of the group.

  Narmbek did his best to smile his appreciation as he checked the time on his pocket watch once again.

  “Good, then it’s time we got started.”

  As he spoke the face of his watch sprung open.

  Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Malthus and Cooper, Riley was so close she could easily make out the fine orange powder inside the casing where the clock's motor should've been. Then Narmbek was blowing it right into her face, and as the powder invaded her nostrils and blinded her, she heard the sound of gun shots ring out.

  74

  It had all been very slick Narmbek admired with much satisfaction. At the moment he'd dosed the three crinks, Weaver had pulled a gun from a secret hideaway in the wall and shot the grizzly and the boy. The boy she'd killed with a single bullet. The grizzly she'd filled with so much lead the room had become thick with black smoke.

  “Are they dead?” Narmbek asked as he watched her check their bodies.

  “Yes.” She replied firing another shot into each of their heads to be certain.

  He quickly bound the three anomalies. When they were secure he began patting the pockets of the girl’s coats.

  “I think I found the book.”

  Fishing a small notebook out of the blonde girl’s coat he tossed it to Weaver.

  “That it?” He asked as she thumbed through the pages.

  “Yes.”

  “Then whatever you do, don’t lose it.”

  “How are they?” She gestured at three anomalies.

  “Girls will make it.” Narmbek sniffed.

  The two women continued to squirm at his feet. Their bodies were gripped in a violent seizure, their mouths coughing and wheezing as tears ran down their faces.

  “Old guy got doped pretty good though. I give him fifty-fifty.”

  “No matter.” Weaver shrugged “It’s the girls and the book that the Archon wants. They what he’s paying for.”

  A loud crack, the unmistakable sound of rifle fire, came from outside.

  “The houndsman’s dead!” Weaver exclaimed as she peered out the window.

  “The felisian is more important.” Narmbek snapped af
ter seeing the dog-human blend lying dead in the street for himself.

  He hurried Weaver back to where the blonde girl was lying, and watched as she placed her hands either side of the girl’s head so she could tunnel into her mind.

  “Anything?” He demanded.

  Of all aspects to the plan, the Sekhem was the most uncertain and for that reason the most dangerous. Narmbek had five of his best men with him but was under no illusion that one Sekhem could make easy work of them all. She needed to be eliminated, and quickly. But where was she?

  “Not yet.” She replied irritably trying to concentrate.

  Grunting his dissatisfaction, Narmbek hurried over to the window to check on his men. They were standing around the houndsman’s body looking agitated. Narmbek couldn't blame them; they'd all heard stories about how ruthless the Sekhem could be. Even Narmbek felt his gun hand shake.

  “We should’ve waited until the felisian was with them. I told you but you wouldn't listen.” He grumbled.

  “And I told you, the older crink is too good a mind-reader to be left alone with your men for even a few minutes.” Weaver said as she continued to work through the blonde girl’s thoughts. “I was barely able to keep him out of my own head this past day. This was the only way.”

  Then she let out a triumphant cry. “The Sekhem’s hiding in the old bank building down the street!”

  “I’ll tell the men!” Narmbek rushed out the front door and barked his orders at the two men in front of him.

  Then like a boot tripping on a loose stone, his brain caught and his whole body seemed to pause as he realized these weren't his men.

  It was the felisian and the houndsman.

  His own men were lying face down in the dirt, their bodies filled with arrows.

  But that wasn't right, his confused brain tried to tell him. The houndsman was the one who was dead, he'd seen it with his own eyes.

  How could he have been mistaken? How could Weaver? The only way for that to happen was if…

  Was if they’d both had their minds tricked by a powerful anomaly. If they'd been swayed.