Vigilance the aeternum c.., p.6
Vigilance (The Aeternum Chronicles Book 2), page 6
He nodded.
“It’s too dangerous for you to leave now, but I’ll be back to lead you out. Until then, sit tight, and keep quiet. Help me with this draw bar.” They lifted the bar and pushed the doors open to let her out.
Simeon called out to her as she left, “Anzi.”
She turned to see his face, stricken with fear and worry. She hardened her expression, doing her best impression of Preceptor Crane.
Simeon clenched his jaw. “Stay safe.”
Maybe he was growing up. She nodded and ran out into the rain. As she neared the front lines, she spotted a slain warrior lying in the road, his blood mingling with the rain and mud. She recognized him immediately. Baeron. He was another Runner from her squad. She knelt down and closed his eyes, then drew her weapons and continued cautiously down the road.
After several minutes of splashing through the streets and cutting through alleyways, the war horns grew louder, as did the shouting and ringing of steel. Anzien burst out from between the buildings into a scene of pure mayhem. Monstrous attackers poured over and through the walls. Piles of wood and debris marked efforts to block the gaps, but the dark shapes were easily climbing over them. One of the watch towers had completely collapsed, engulfed in flames. Much as she’d expected, the spiked pits inside the walls were filled with the dead—a gruesome welcome mat for those that followed.
It was a grim sight. She would have called the battle lost, even without her tactical training. There were several large barricades still standing between the horde and the town. Archers rose up from behind them, firing arrows, and ducking back down to nock. Between the barricades and the walls, men and women fought desperately and died at the hands of the inhuman attackers.
Anzien scanned the barricades, searching for her commanding officer. She ran to the closest one and ducked down behind it, next to a man wearing an officer’s badge.
She shouted to be heard over the chaos, “I’m looking for Preceptor Crane! Do you know where he’s stationed?”
The commander stood and shouted, “Burn the walls! Set them alight! Send these devils back to the wretched pit they spawned from!”
The archers drew arrows from nearby buckets, and lit them from sheltered torches placed along the barricade. They loosed, and the wall ahead burst into flames. The beasts that had been scaling the log palisades shrieked in pain and tumbled down as their fur caught fire. Anzien watched with concern as the carnage unfolded before her.
“Last I heard, he’s at the eastern line of defense, about three-hundred-fifty paces that way,”—he pointed in the general direction—“but that was an hour ago. They may have fallen back by now as others have.” It was impossible to see very far through the rain, smoke, and fighting.
Anzien nodded, rose, and sprinted in the direction he pointed. She ducked behind two more barricades, then found him at the third. He too was shouting orders, calling out formations and directing archers.
“Preceptor Crane!” she called.
He turned toward her, the tension of battle deepening the lines on his face. “Anzien. So, you’re still alive”—he took in her marred face and the dried blood on her neck—“though just barely by the looks of it.”
“Alive and kicking, Preceptor.” She placed a fist over her heart in salute. “What messages shall I run?”
He lowered his voice so that only she could hear, “You know as well as I do the town is lost. I’ve sent Runners to the northeast and western posts, alerting them to retreat.”
“I think I found one of them,” she said gravely. “Baeron’s body is back along the main road, in the residential quadrant.”
“Boil it all!” Crane stood up and shouted more commands, directing his warriors to fall back. The wall was now an inferno. It was only a matter of time before the whole thing came down.
“You’ll have to complete his mission. The western post is to retreat immediately. Once you’ve done that, I need you to head south along the River Crete until you reach Tethys Lake.” He glanced over his shoulder and shouted, “I said fall back you useless dregs! Have you got mud in your ears?” He turned back to her with intense focus, “Between Tethys Lake and the Ironwood is the garrison town of Loch Fyne. They must be warned of the impending attacks.” He gripped her shoulders, his eyes drilling into hers. “Thousands of lives are at stake, Anzien. You must not fail. Do you understand?”
Another garrison? I thought Masada was the only one… Anzien nodded, “Yes Preceptor.”
He released her shoulders. “We’ll hold them off here as long as we can. Get my soldiers to safety.”
“Understood, I won’t let—”
She was interrupted by an ominous tolling from the town hall bell tower.
Anzien looked back toward the town with dread. “The recruits!”
5
Low Places
Fortuna square bustled with shoppers, as oblivious to each other as they were to the danger they faced. Ryland looked down at his Protectorate uniform. His shirt was untucked and soaked with sweat, and his pants had torn near the ankle. I need to blend in, he thought. If any wards were to see him like this, there would certainly be questions, which could then very easily lead to capture and punishment. The protectorate did not take kindly to deserters. He scanned the shops lining the sidewalks, until he found what he was looking for. Written on a gold-trimmed sign in elaborate script above the door was a name synonymous with couturier excellence: Deacon’s.
The clerk eyed him warily as he walked in. The plump man in a well-tailored suit treated him haughtily at first, but in the end proved more than willing to accept his credits. Ryland disposed of his uniform, deciding to hang onto his protectorate-issued shock-dart gun. He stepped out onto the busy sidewalk in plaid dress slacks and a finely crafted double-breasted wool jacket, with a red ascot scarf tucked under his chin. Excellent, Ryland thought, nodding to himself. What now? Someone was hurrying by and bumped into him. Ryland immediately recognized the young man’s straight black hair and mischievous demeanor.
“Hey Roku!”
Roku stopped, and slowly turned. He squinted. “Ryland? Is that you?”
“In the flesh!”
“Hey, uh, sorry about that.” Roku grinned, holding out Ryland’s wallet. “Seriously though, what are you wearing?”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I’m blending in.”
“Blending in?” he laughed. “You’d blend in better wearing nothing at all!”
“This coming from a guy in a lace-embroidered breast-coat,” Ryland said, smirking.
“This,”—Roku thumbed his lapels—“is tasteful fashion. I’m not sure what you’d call that…Hey, aren’t you meant to be playing soldier with your Protectorate friends? You’re not here to arrest me are you?” Roku grinned.
“No, I am…I mean I was.” Ryland frowned, looking around. “It’s too crowded here, do you know somewhere we can talk? In private?”
Roku smiled. “I’ve got just the place…but you’re going to have to take that thing off, first,” he said, pointing to Ryland’s ascot.
***
Ryland ducked his head as they walked down the dark hallway leading deeper into the Sallow Mule. It was the first he’d ever heard of the inconspicuous tavern, but Roku insisted it was the place to grab a drink for anyone engaged in the more illicit vocations.
“So, criminals?” Ryland asked.
“Shh, you can’t talk like that in here.”
“Hey, coming to this place was your idea.”
Roku stopped and turned to face him. “You wanted a private place to talk, I got us one.”
“Okay okay, I’ll be careful.”
They reached the end of the hall and were greeted by a full, yet strangely subdued common room. It was filled with patrons of all kinds—men, women, young, old—and nearly all of them seemed to be discussing something important.
“Hey Roku, who’s your friend?”
A beautiful dark-haired server had approached while Ryland had been taking in the sites of the common room. Her lips formed a small, red Cupid’s bow, and her nose scooped up ever so slightly at the tip.
“This is Atticus,” Roku answered with a grin, knowing Ryland hated being called by his first name.
“Atticus, is it?” She smiled at him the way women often did, then smirked, looking him up and down.
“My friends call me Ryland.” He shot a glare at Roku, then held out his hand. She placed hers within it. “And might I have the pleasure of your name, miss…?”
“Devonique.” She smiled coyly.
“A pleasure to meet you, Devonique,” Ryland said, kissing her hand.
“Well aren’t you the gentleman,” she said, blushing.
Roku sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. “We’re looking for a private place to talk.” He elbowed Ryland in the ribs.
“Hmm?” Ryland asked.
Roku rubbed his thumb and pointer fingers together.
“Oh, right.” He released Devonique’s hand and reached into his pocket, pulling out two black credit chips and handing them to her.
“Right this way,” she said, tucking away the chips and leading them to a dimly lit booth toward the back of the room. They took their seats, and Roku ordered drinks, “Hey Dev would you bring us a pair of green dragons?”
“Actually, I’ll have an angry monk, please,” Ryland interjected.
“Excellent choice, Ryland. One green dragon, and one angry monk, coming right up.” Devonique smiled at him and left to put in their drink orders with the bartender.
Roku turned to him and asked, “So what’s going on?”
Ryland took a deep breath. Where to begin. “Something’s happening in New Arcadia. Something big.”
“Yeah no kidding,” said Roku. “Word is spreading like wildfire,”—he gestured to the common room—“there was a huge explosion at the amphitheater.”
Ryland nodded. “Yeah, I was there.”
“You were there? Please tell me you played a part in blowing it up! Those self-important wards had it coming, if you ask me.”
Ryland cleared his throat loudly.
“Oh, right…well not you Ry, you’re not like them. There’s been word of something else, too. Some kind of biological Ministry experiment gone wrong.”
Devonique set their drinks down, and seeing that they were engaged in conversation, promptly left.
“Look Roku, this isn’t about getting revenge on some wards for locking up your old man. This is something much bigger. I don’t know how else to say this…” Ryland looked around and lowered his voice, “The Ministry has opened up some kind of window to another world, and is marching an army of monsters directly into the heart of New Arcadia.”
Roku furrowed his brow looking at him suspiciously for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh that’s a good one, Ry! You almost had me there. An army of monsters! Is this the kind of stuff they teach you at the Protectorate? Maybe I had them pegged wrong all along.”
“Hey keep your voice down! Roku this isn’t a joke.”
“Uh huh,” he smiled and winked, then took a drink.
“Listen, I know you have connections to people…organizations that don’t agree with how the Ministry runs things. We need to tell people. I have to do something, or a lot of innocent people are going to die.”
Roku pursed his lips. “There are far less innocent people here than you might think. Neighbors report each other for suspected treason. Hell, I even heard of one kid turning in his old man for disabling their Ministry com-speaker.”
“And so the good, innocent people should have to die alongside the guilty?” Ryland asked, growing frustrated.
“Look buddy,” Roku reasoned, “we’ve known each other a long time.”
“Almost eight years.”
“But you have to realize how this sounds. If what you say is true, we would already be hearing about it. An army doesn’t just march into a city unnoticed.”
He had a point. It has been a couple hours since I fled my post… “It’s possible that they managed to stop it. That would explain the explosion.”
“They?”
“There were at least ten of them. They came out of nowhere, fighting like mad…drove Marconas off almost right away. I high-tailed it out of there. Good thing, too. The explosion happened pretty soon after that.”
“So if they stopped it, what’s the problem? Sounds like everything is under control.”
“We don’t know that for sure, and even if they did stop it, you think Marconas is going to just give up? If there’s one thing I know about him, it’s that he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants.”
Roku sat watching him for a long moment, then finally spoke, “I swear to the Maker Ryland, if you’re feeding me lines—”
“It’s all true, I swear it on my honor. Do you really think I’d risk everything, breaking my oath just to screw with you?”
Roku took a deep breath and leaned back in the red-cushioned booth. “I might know someone you could talk to.”
“Fantastic! Thank—”
“But you can’t just start spouting off garbage about monsters and windows to other worlds. You realize how that sounds, don’t you? These people mean serious business, and if they think I’m sending some unhinged rich kid their way, they are not going to take kindly to it.”
“Deal. I will be on my best behavior, I promise.”
Roku took a small scrap of paper from his pocket, and began scribbling something on it. He folded the paper up, and reluctantly slid it across the table. “I’m assuming you want to go tonight?” he asked.
Ryland took the paper and answered, “The sooner we can get started, the better.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Roku muttered to himself. “Wait until midnight, and knock on the green door at the address on that paper.”
Ryland unfolded it and read the address written within.
Sector 7
287 Loprensa Ave
He nodded. “Then what?”
“Then, you better hope you do a better job at convincing them than you did with me.”
“Convincing who?”
“You’ll see,” Roku said, finishing his drink. “I have to go.” He stood, pulling on his lace embroidered waistcoat, and buttoning it up. “I’d say it’s been a pleasure…but…well, you know.”
“Thanks Roku. You won’t regret this.”
“I’d better not.” He nodded once, and walked out.
A moment later, Ryland stood and put on his own jacket. When he turned around, he was face to face with Devonique.
She cleared her throat loudly and handed him the bill.
“Right, of course!” He reached in his pocket, pulled out another black credit chip, and handed it to her.
She smiled from the corner of her mouth and said, “See you next time, mon caneton.”
He smiled awkwardly. There was a predatory look in her eyes that definitely had not been present when they first met.
“See you next time,” he said, hurrying out, but not before receiving a firm slap on the rear.
***
Ryland looked down at the paper in his hand, then up at the building before him. The red brick house definitely looked abandoned. There were large boards of wood covering the windows, and the front yard was full of tall, wild grass and weeds. The streetlamps cast yellow light onto the footpath, one of which made a bright circle around Ryland. He checked his watch. Midnight…here goes nothin’.
The path to the entrance was paved with cracked cement, and at the end of it was a tall green door with no handle. Ryland glanced around nervously, knocked, and waited. No answer.
He knocked again.
Did I get the address wrong?
The world suddenly went dark as a coarse black fabric was pulled down over his head. Ryland’s hand went straight for the shockdart gun in his pocket. He felt something pressing against the back of his neck, and his consciousness slipped away.
6
Withdrawal
The recruits! The town hall bell rang out over the din of battle, and it took every ounce of Anzien’s discipline not to bolt off at that very moment.
“What?” Crane furrowed his brow. “The recruits were ordered to withdraw hours ago.”
“They’re still in the town hall! I have to help them!”
Crane nodded gravely—knowing her brother was among them. “Go, but don’t forget the western post.”
Anzien saluted and sprinted back toward the town. She weaved between buildings, hiding to avoid a pair of hasai leaping across the rooftops. At some point, the bell went silent, and the splash of her footsteps filled her head. She focused on the sound. It was the only thing keeping her from imagining the worst. Eventually she arrived at the hall. The huge doors were splintered and broken, hanging askew. Inside was only darkness.
Simmy. Anzien cautiously approached the doorway, and pressed her back against the broken door, peering in around the corner. There was little light inside, but it was enough to see that nothing was moving. She drew her blades and crept slowly in. Her foot thumped into something soft. She looked down and saw the lifeless body of one of the boys she had armed less than an hour ago. Her stomach clenched. This is my fault. If not for the need to find her brother, she might have lost all focus then and there.
A bolt of lightning lit the sky outside, briefly illuminating the common room through the entrance. The rows of chairs that normally filled the back half of the room were strewn about, smashed and broken. Shredded tapestries hung from the walls, and blood splatters covered the floors.
No.
She risked calling out, “Simeon! Are you there? Hello? Anyone?” Her voice echoed off the stone walls. After a moment there was a noise from the back.
“Anzi? Is that you?”
“Simmy!” She sheathed her weapons and sprinted toward his voice, nearly tripping over debris on the way. It had come from a small room to the right of the stage. Anzien stood in the doorway and saw Simeon’s head peeking out from a trap door in the floor. She rushed over to him, gripped him by the shoulders, and pulled him the rest of the way out.
