The Tunnel War

by Kevin George

  Aytyn shook his head. “Only because I know nothing about her. I’ve barely seen her or been to The Fifth, either. But I don’t believe Prince Oliver means her harm. Kalford is his closest protector, and I’ve only heard him speak glowingly about his new wife. . . your daughter.”

  Zander frowned. “I always wanted her to marry a guard, but I was hoping for a royal guardsman—a true royal guardsman—or someone higher up the steppes,” he said, shaking his head. He’d nearly forgotten he still held the thin arm of his prisoner. “Don’t you want to know who we brought?”

  Aytyn stepped back into line and shook his head. “I haven’t made it this far in life by questioning things that don’t concern me.”

  A commotion among The Third’s forces caused the One guards to march a few steps closer, only stopping when Zander held up a hand. The Thirders stepped aside and Zander watched a single young man stride forward. At first, the young man appeared to be hobbling, just another dirty, injured worker from The Fifth, most of his hair missing, his face a mess of melted skin, a clear sign of disrespect if this was the person sent to deal with the king’s orders.

  “Unacceptable!” Zander shouted. “I demand to speak with—”

  “Oliver,” the young man said. “Leader of The Third and Fifth.”

  Zander nodded until realizing the young man was referring to himself. Zander’s eyes squinted, trying to recognize the prince he’d watched grow up. Oliver undoubtedly stood in front of him, but there was nothing princely left about him. He’d heard tales of the young man’s burned face, but he hadn’t expected him to appear so grotesque. Pushing the shock aside, Zander cleared his throat and gestured toward the men standing behind him.

  “King Edmond sent me to escort these illness testers to The Third,” he announced for all to hear. “It is imperative that we stop a potential outbreak from—”

  His words were drowned out by Oliver’s chuckle. Zander’s eyes narrowed and he stepped forward before Aytyn and the former royal guardsmen did the same.

  “My father wasn’t kidding about how soon the testers would arrive,” Oliver said. “I see he has you trying to do his dirty work this time.”

  “His Illustriousness is a busy man running the city,” Zander said, fighting off a stammer. “But the king wasn’t kidding about the consequences of your people denying us entry.”

  Oliver smiled, though his eyes bore twin holes into Zander. “Your threat is no more frightening than my father’s.”

  Zander glanced back at the men filling the tunnel. “And the guards behind me? Are they enough of a threat?”

  Oliver made a show of looking over Zander’s shoulder; his subsequent shrug even more dramatic. Zander began to understand why the king had so much trouble controlling his son.

  “You should know your father couldn’t be here,” Zander said with the slightest of grins. “It just so happens he needed to be by his wife’s side as she gave birth to the new prince.”

  Oliver tried to shrug, but he couldn’t prevent his body from tensing.

  “Prince to a city that will never be the same,” Oliver said.

  This time, it was Zander’s turn to shrug.

  “One has squashed rebellions in the past and survived just fine. This one will be no different.”

  “And you’d be willing to risk the life of your daughter for that?”

  Heat rushed to Zander’s face. His throat tightened, as much from anger as fear.

  “When I agreed to wed my daughter to your guard, the king assured me she’d be safe,” Zander said. “You promised him Paige would be safe.”

  “I did no such thing,” Oliver said.

  Zander stared into the young man’s eyes until Oliver looked away.

  “I know you married the fair princess, but I see how you speak about my daughter,” Zander said. “You no longer have your helmet to hide what you truly feel. You’ll never harm Paige.”

  “You might be right, but surely you know bloody battles sometimes have unintended victims,” Oliver said.

  The young man was right, not that Zander planned to admit that. Instead, he turned and pulled the prisoner closer.

  “Before we descend to violence, King Edmond wants you to know he worked diligently to procure one final token of goodwill, a gift of peace,” Zander said.

  “There will be no deals,” Oliver said.

  Zander pushed the prisoner toward Oliver. Oliver stared at the bagged man, his eyes lighting up in recognition. Oliver turned aside and shook his head, unable to look away from the prisoner for longer than a few seconds.

  “This gift comes with no conditions,” Zander continued. “The king knows how badly you once wanted this man. Your father wants you to remember being the true Jonas Heir, a future he still wants for you.”

  But Oliver barely heard a word Zander said. His pulse raced as he watched the prisoner standing completely still, his frail shoulders slumped. Oliver’s hands quivered and he could almost hear Emma’s voice whispering in the back of his mind, telling him to turn and run far away, to send the prisoner back to the king, to forget that part of his past and focus on what they were building for the future. Oliver’s hand suddenly shot out, grabbing hold of the prisoner’s hood, yanking it off to see a face he’d never expected to see again.

  Walter Capshaw squinted through watery eyes, but he didn’t turn away from the light or from Oliver. His eyes and cheeks were sunken, his facial hair long and scraggly. He appeared to have aged several decades during the months since Oliver last saw him. When he betrayed me and tried to help Chad beat me to death. . .

  Walter’s eyes sparked in recognition. He frowned, though his expression showed no fear.

  “I deserve whatever punishment you deem appropriate,” Walter said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t deny what I did to you at the Colisseo. I know it was wrong, and I knew what it meant for you, but I am glad you survived.”

  Oliver opened his mouth to respond but found himself lost for words. Before he could figure them out, Zander leaned forward and whispered to Oliver.

  “Show your people what happens to traitors of the Jonas family.”

  Oliver’s nostrils flared. He took a deep breath before turning to his nearest guardsman, snapping his fingers until the man handed over his weapon. Oliver heard gasps from Thirders behind him. He felt a flash of anger for their weakness. He wanted to ask them what they expected from the impending war with One. Walter’s frown remained and he collapsed to his knees, keeping his back straight, puffing out his frail chest to give Oliver the easiest possible target. Oliver gripped the spear so tightly his knuckles ached. All his people watched with bated breath; he also knew his father was watching him, testing him.

  Oliver dropped the spear. He exhaled deeply, as did Walter. Oliver took the old man’s arm and helped him to his feet.

  “Take him to The Fifth,” Oliver ordered his nearest guard.

  Kalford took the old man and hustled him away.

  “Tell the king thanks,” Oliver said.

  He stepped between his royal guardsmen and made his way through the Thirders, his forces stepping aside as he strolled past.

  “The king is losing his patience!” Zander called out, receiving no reply from Oliver. “The Lord warned of an illness that could destroy all of The Third and Fifth.”

  Oliver snorted at the empty threat, and was proud to see not a single look of fear from those around him.

  King Edmond huffed at the sight of his son’s controlled reaction. With the threat of war and Walter’s presence barely rattling him, Oliver was clearly more dangerous than the king had anticipated. For that reason, the king no longer doubted whether he could let his first son live.

  But hopefully not my only son. . .

  He glanced away from the Main Tunnel and turned to the palace hallway again, zooming in on the guardsmen still by the queen’s door, Ryo’s angry face now crinkled with concern. As the image enlarged and the sound faded in, Edmond heard muffled screams coming from Raefaline’s bed
room. His eyes flitted to a black spot among the nearby images and for once he was glad not to see what was happening in there.

  With no apparent change to his wife’s condition, he returned his focus to the Main Tunnel, where he saw Oliver joining Walter on the walk back to The Fifth. His son remained frustratingly calm. Edmond watched Zander retreating farther down the tunnel with the illness testers and the bulk of his forces, as the king had directed him to do if diplomacy failed. Edmond looked at the fighting forces for both sides and knew a battle would be disastrous. Regardless of threats One had given The Third and Fifth, Edmond needed a quick resolution to that matter, and there was one person that could deliver that.

  Aytyn, the king thought, knowing his closest ally could get close enough to the prince—and the princess—to kill them. He also knew Aytyn wouldn’t act unless he had direct orders from the Lord and Jonas, which would require Edmond to take another trip through the tunnel. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, the king shut down the holographic images and marched out of the Lord’s room. Only a pair of royal guardsmen remained in the empty throne room.

  “Prepare a hovercraft,” the king ordered.

  He followed the guardsmen toward the Palace Lift but didn’t make it beyond the throne room’s massive outer columns when the echo of running footsteps made all three of them stop. Ryo and a trio of guardsmen ran toward them.

  “The prince has been born,” Ryo called out, his head bowing. “Mother and child are healthy.”

  Relief flooded King Edmond, whose knees weakened. He didn’t know what he wanted to do more: eliminate his first child or visit his second. But a protocol was in place for the birth of a Jonas Heir, a protocol followed for generations. As big changes in the city loomed, Edmond knew it would be important to follow traditions to maintain a degree of normalcy. The king straightened his robes and turned around, marching to the far end of the throne room, climbing the steps to take his seat upon the glowing chair.

  “Gather the rest of One’s guards and citizens to the palace for the presentation of the new Jonas Heir,” he ordered his men.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The Swarm squawked and flapped wildly, panicked as they watched the empty spot where BabyDoll had just stood. The group had collectively watched the prisoner’s door open, only for an arm to shoot out, grab the little Aviary and drag her into the darkened room. Sally and Lump bumped into each other as they rushed after her, but neither had a chance to recover before James’ crazed voice echoed from within.

  “Nobody else comes in or the girl dies.”

  More squawking, this time shriller. Lump pushed his way forward, trying to flap his giant arm away from Sally’s grip, dragging her toward the door.

  “Evil,” a Swarmer shrieked.

  “Mountain,” another said.

  Both words caused more confusion from The Swarm, and Lump pulled Sally so fiercely that her feet lifted off the ground.

  “Please, everyone calm down,” Sally told them. She yanked on Lump’s arm, finally slowing him. The giant Aviary looked at her, his head darting from her to the door, his watery eyes flashing anger and fear at the same time. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay. James is just confused. He doesn’t know we’re here to help him.”

  She practically yelled the last two words, her voice calming the crowd and stopping Lump before he reached the door. Sally nodded at him, easing her grip as he slowly pulled his arm away. Just when Sally thought the Swarm was under control, Lump squawked the word ‘evil’ and scurried down the hallway, his deformed wing fluttering enough to push him sideways, where he crashed into the wall over and over. Several Swarmers joined him before Sally could stop the rest of the group with promises that everything would work out fine.

  “Why now?” James’ voice echoed from the dark room.

  Sally stepped closer to the door but stayed a few feet back, leaving it cracked a few inches.

  “Because BabyDoll—the innocent little girl you’re holding now—turned the radio’s power back on,” Sally said. “She finally convinced the others to trust us. . . both of us.”

  Silence followed for several seconds, except for a stray chirp among the Swarm. When James spoke again, his voice was flatter than before.

  “Why should I believe you?”

  Sally opened her mouth to answer, but a second voice within the darkened room beat her to it.

  “Because Quinn and the others wanted you dead,” BabyDoll said. “But we worked to keep you alive instead.”

  “For now,” James said.

  “And if you don’t let her go, there’ll be nothing I can do to stop you suffering the same fate as the man that followed us from The Mountain,” Sally warned.

  “Mountain,” a Swarmer squawked, a word echoed by several others, each repeat growing louder and increasingly panicked.

  Sally turned to calm the Swarm but didn’t have a chance when every Aviary quieted, their feathered faces easing. Sally spun and saw BabyDoll appearing in the doorway.

  “All is okay,” the little Aviary said. “Having fear is not a weakness, but overcoming it is strength, and this man’s journey has come a great length. Giving his trust makes him like one of us.”

  BabyDoll hobbled toward the Swarm, making eye contact with Sally along the way, bobbing her little head toward the door. Sally stepped closer to the darkened room and whispered for James to come out. When he hesitated, Sally reminded him the radio was finally working.

  “Let’s go see what else and who else is out there,” she said.

  The dull point of a wooden stick emerged from the darkness, followed moments later by James’ face, his eyes wide and darting from one Swarmer to the next. Several Aviaries chirped or squawked quietly at the sight of him, but BabyDoll raised a tiny hand and waved him out.

  “Where’s the rest of them?” James asked, nodding to the Swarm.

  “The others aren’t weak but they aren’t quite as strong as those standing beside and coming along.”

  “It’s safe, see? Nobody wants to hurt you. . . at least nobody here,” Sally said, a sense of urgency creeping into her voice. “We need to hurry. We might not have much time until there’s trouble.”

  James hobbled out, pale and frail, his makeshift weapon still in hand. Despite the hushed cries from other Swarmers, BabyDoll stepped forward until she could take hold of his weapon. James gave a slight tug to pull it away, but BabyDoll held on and gave him a smile.

  “This won’t help you and it will not help me. No violence will happen, just come, wait and see,” she said.

  James nodded and let go, watching BabyDoll toss it aside. Shame suddenly filled him and he apologized to the little Aviary and the Swarm.

  “I just want to contact whoever I spoke to before,” he said.

  Sally nodded and hurried them down the hallway, slowing as she reached a corner, finding the next hall clear. She should’ve felt fortunate to have such luck, but she couldn’t ignore the growing dread nagging at the back of her mind. BabyDoll took Sally’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “I worry, too,” the little Aviary said.

  “Where do you think Quinn went?”

  BabyDoll frowned. “Where did he go? We might not want to know.”

  As they approached the radio room, the silence was interrupted by muffled squawking and crashing noises. Sally knew immediately what it meant. She ran into the radio room and spotted Lump first, holding a large piece of equipment over his head, smashing it against the floor, ignoring Sally’s pleas to stop. Lump wasn’t alone. Quinn and his followers were scattered around the room, tipping over machines, throwing them against the wall, smashing anything they could find. Quinn flapped his perfect wings, flinging tiny pieces across the room.

  “Stop!” James yelled, rushing to an empty corner of the room, throwing his arms around the single piece of equipment that hadn’t been destroyed yet.

  Quinn and his followers grouped together and fluttered toward James, but Sally and BabyDoll joined the man’s side. Quin
n held up a hand to his Swarm and took a step forward. BabyDoll did the same, her head barely as high as Quinn’s waist.

  “You’re still the newest one here,” Quinn told the little girl before glancing over her and sneering at Sally and James. “Or should I say the newest Aviary here. You should be with your own kind.”

  “I was born this way, from the very first day, but you were not. Being different is okay, so be careful what you say,” BabyDoll said coolly.

  Quinn puffed his chest out and arched his back, his giant wings rippling behind him. He brushed past BabyDoll and approached James, who stood guard in front of the last intact piece of equipment. James did not budge despite being half a foot shorter and significantly narrower than Quinn.

  “Should we move him?” one of Quinn’s followers asked.

  Quinn’s head darted from side to side, taking in the destruction around them. He smiled and shook his head, backing away.

  “It’s important we remain a unified group,” Quinn said. “Love preached peace, and he’d hate to imagine us turning violent over a single piece of machinery that doesn’t let you talk to anyone anyway.” He turned to his followers. “And it’s not like we can’t break it later.”

  Without another word, Quinn turned and breezed his way out, kicking broken pieces of the radio as he went, his followers doing the same. Lump stayed near the back of Quinn’s pack, frowning at Sally and BabyGirl as he left. More of the Swarm followed Quinn, even those that had stood beside BabyDoll all along, until only the little Aviary and the two humans remained.

  BabyDoll walked among the broken equipment, tiny crunching noises coming from underfoot. Sally warned her to be careful.

  “Some of it might be fixable.”

  “Not likely,” James said, his tone surprisingly light. “They crushed most of it beyond repair. I don’t think we’ll ever speak to anyone out there.”

  Feeling utterly deflated, Sally kicked a few pieces of junk aside and sat on the floor, burying her head in her hands. James remained staring at the lone piece of unbroken equipment.