Earthbound, p.36
Earthbound, page 36
“Get your legs under,” a guard ordered in butchered Mercurian. Knox obediently tried to marshal his limbs through the fog. Every movement felt as if he were fighting through thick sludge. A sharp kick to his knee sent him reeling sideways.
His rubbered legs refused to work. It must have looked like as much a losing battle as it felt, and after a few more kicks, his guards hauled him a little higher, and let him drag between them.
They took him towards a central room, separated from the rest of the space by tall screens and a thick curtain. Before the entrance two others lay gagged on the floor, wearing manacles hand and foot. Their bodies twitched, helpless against the energy coursing through them.
Knox felt a dull pang of sympathy for the wretches. He avoided the tiny flicker of heat hiding behind his sternum. If he tried to draw it out, there would only be more pain. His head lolled forward and pulled awkwardly on his neck, but there was no strength left to right it.
“As you see, our occupation is complete,” the Commander announced as he was dragged through the curtain.
Knox flinched at the sound of her voice. Sweat-drenched hair hung down and hid his eyes. The guards released him to his own power; his ankles rolled and his knees buckled. Knives of pain lanced up his legs and he crumpled unceremoniously at the Commander’s feet.
“For the Earth,” the Commander said, with surprising passion in her voice.
A soft gasp sounded from the other side of the room along with a few growled curses. The voices were impossibly familiar. It can’t be. More hallucinations, no doubt. He flared the heat from his chest in a desperate bid to rid himself of the phantoms. The manacles activated, sending quick spikes down his spine and drawing out a growl through gritted teeth.
“Enough!” an achingly familiar voice spoke. “Tormenting some poor soul is not going to improve our terms.”
Tehran? His heart picked up its pace.
The cool, soft tones of an older woman joined him. “He’s correct. We either deal in good faith or we commit to this war you are obviously spoiling for.” The woman’s voice turned icy. “And you should know, to do so would be inviting a massacre. If you drive us to war, there will be no mercy.”
The Commander’s scathing laugh filled the space, silencing the voices. It reverberated with a glee that turned Knox’s stomach.
“Good faith? The Order? A deal was brokered. A piece of the Earth for land that would feed our people and not give way beneath our feet. Take a good look, Elder. The man before you is our accusation. Your spy.”
A scream cut through the air and Knox’s heart stopped, not with fear, but with a spark of life surging through him. Emilia. He forced himself to open swollen eyelids. She stood across the room with Tehran’s arm wrapped around her waist, holding her back.
“Em—stop. What is it?”
“It’s him! Tehran—it’s Knox!”
Tehran released her in shock, and she rushed forward.
Time slowed as several things happened at once, not the least of which was the Commander squeezing the metal orb in her hand, activating his manacles again. This time they did not stop.
Knox felt himself slip within his body, as if he had come loose and no longer fit this shell. If he thought of it, he could trace the energy moving through him in painful clarity, but he could also sidestep the sensation. Here, in this loose state, he could stand apart and see his body writhing in pain.
He also could take in the entirety of the room at once.
Two guards flanked Tehran, Emilia, and a white-haired woman. She had to be the other voice he heard. Both guards lunged forward to intercept Emilia in her rush to his side and met Tehran’s wrath instead. His friend grabbed one of the Tumultian soldiers from behind, gripping his head, and in a fluid motion, broke the man’s neck. Tehran stepped over the first body, eyes on the guard who had pinned Emilia’s arms behind her back and was keeping her from dropping next to him.
Tehran was always lethal, but something was off with the way he moved. This should have been child’s play. He’s too slow.
The peculiar nature of his mind in this state noted a small ember of light within Tehran’s chest. Knox frowned and looked down at his own breaking body. He too had a similar phenomenon, albeit smaller and flickering, as if it were a flame being smothered.
No one else in the room carried the internal glow, but on the other side of the wall he could see two flickering globes similar to his own. Through the wall? I can see through a wall? All at once clarity struck, like a fresh wind clearing out the fog he had been living in.
He was dying. These were his last moments.
He looked at Emilia, beauty amongst chaos. Even with her face contorted by grief and shock, she remained the woman he loved.
Tehran reached the guard holding her, dislocated the man’s arm before placing a surgical front kick to the man’s hip, sending him to the floor screaming in pain. Two more guards swept through the curtained door.
Emilia’s hair was a wild explosion of curls but for the wisps sticking to the tears on her cheeks. Feral grief focused its fury on the Commander, her eyes fixated on the control she still held in her hand.
She flung herself at the Tumultian leader. The well-trained woman easily sidestepped the attack and landed an elbow into the side of Emilia’s head. Emilia crumpled and lay still. Quinmarq cackled as she crashed to the hard ground.
NO!
The white haired woman—Elder Venier, he placed a name to the face—moved towards him with her hands raised. Tehran returned with politicians?
“This man wasn’t sent to you,” she said softly. “He’s not a spy.”
“Lies,” hissed the Commander. “And Overseer Nylin? The child? Are you going to tell me they weren’t all a ploy to steal from us?”
Venier’s mouth twitched, eyes widening in surprise. “He wouldn’t,” she breathed, clearly disturbed, but she continued to edge closer to his body.
“I knew it,” the Commander crowed. “Arrogant fools. The Order never intended on honouring their bond. This exchange could have cost you a few clusters at the border’s edge, but now we will take it all.”
Venier bent and picked up something from the ground in a quick movement. A small oval of metal. The control switch. The Commander must have dropped it avoiding Emilia’s tackle. Venier glanced down at him and switched off the device. His body continued to twitch, but the larger convulsions stilled. With a deliberate move, she dropped the switch and crushed it under her boot.
“I can speak for the Order. We can open discussions over land. This war does not need to continue.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t,” the Commander agreed, voice eerily calm despite the chaos of the room.
Venier pulled her shoulders back, ever the diplomat, voice tight. “You have impressive technology; perhaps we can broker a trade, if you can agree preserving Mercurial lives is the priority.” She avoided looking towards Knox as she swallowed.
Quinmarq scoffed. “The deal has already been made and broken. We were promised our own piece of the Sky.”
“Not possible. The Sky is not for a dirt-clodden people like yours,” Venier said, raising her voice.
“Look around you, Elder. As if we need your feeble god any longer. Your people are helpless.” The Commander raised a hand to her mouth and whistled. Two more soldiers entered. They glanced at Tehran grappling with the last sentry but jogged past them to stand before their leader at a wave of her hand.
“I am done with her.”
Venier’s eyes went wide. “If you make a move against me, my Overseers will destroy this entire camp.”
“None remain to answer your call. Take a good look at your spy, Elder; his fate will be yours.”
The guards moved to seize Venier but with a smooth motion she pulled a narrow dagger from beneath her setka and drove it into the first guard’s throat, pulling it free in a spray of blood.
Shocked, the second stumbled back reaching for his bolt thrower, but Venier didn’t wait, closing the space and pushing the blade under his chest plate.
“Those of the Sky are never helpless,” Venier hissed at the soldier and then went rigid, her face contorted in pain and shock.
The Commander, not fooled, had used the distraction the guards provided and had come up behind the Elder, dagger in hand. She pulled Venier close, and snarled. “Your peoples’ blood will water the earth as your god watches, impotent to act.” With a sharp twist, the blade embedded in Venier’s back pierced her heart and she dropped.
No! Venier met Knox’s gaze, gasping for breath. The light faded from her eyes a moment before she went still. Tehran landed the killing blow on the guard he fought and spun, taking in the scene with a look of horror. His golden eyes tracked across the room to where Emilia lay, and he shouted her name.
Knox’s focus transfixed on Emilia.
Wake up, sweetheart. You can do it.
Emilia stirred and groaned, reaching her hand to her head. She shot the Commander a murderous glare and gathered herself to stand.
A new group of soldiers pushed through the curtain, no doubt hearing the commotion, and charged Tehran. He turned with his sluggish movements and faced the group, keeping them from Emilia.
With a casual motion, the Commander wiped the blood from her blade across the dark fabric of her fitted pants and then flipped it in her hand with lethal purpose.
She fixed her blue eyes on Emilia and pointedly looked in Knox’s direction. “Who is this Overseer to you, that makes you so reckless, little Skyling?”
“He’s mine.” Emilia’s voice cracked as she dusted off her hands and looked towards him.
Knox’s heart squeezed, and he felt a pull back to his body. Those words were all he wanted to hear for eternity. He looked at the Tumultian woman. Her eyes danced with delight at Emilia’s confession, and her mouth twisted in an odd smile.
Helplessness seared through him sharper than any agony endured thus far.
“I thought that one was your bonded?” She looked over to where Tehran was encircled by a group of guards. They were taking turns testing his defences, slowly tightening their circle.
Emilia’s jaw flexed. “It’s complicated.” She lifted her fists to a fighting posture and Knox struggled to speak. Run, Emilia! The pull back to his body tugged again, this time with an accompanying shock of pain.
The Commander narrowed her eyes with a wicked gleam. “This is going to be a rather devastating day for you, then.”
She turned towards Tehran with exaggerated purpose and flipped the knife in her hand to hold it by the blade. In a smooth motion, she flung the knife across the room, and it struck Tehran in his gut. He grunted mid-swing and stumbled back from his opponent, looking stunned. The knife was buried under his ribs up to the bolster. He pulled it free in a moment of shock, a crimson stain blooming on his shirt.
Emilia growled, a fierce expression fixing itself on her face. Commander Quinmarq reached around to her hip and pulled another weapon loose. She lifted it, and Emilia’s face went pale.
His club—Impression. The heavy, twisted piece of wood from the Tumult, reinforced and refined by Emilia’s father, was now raised against his wife.
Knox’s consciousness re-inhabited his body in an instant.
In the same breath, damaged tissue and pain-fired nerves entombed him. Blackness threatened, clawing at the edges of his vision, his sense overwhelmed. NO!
Quinmarq stalked towards Emilia.
Emilia may have sparred with him and Tehran on occasion, but Knox knew there was no way she could hold her own against this woman. She scrambled back, found a long pole dropped by one of the guards, and held it out in front of her.
The mirth left the Commander’s expression, replaced with menace as the two women circled one another.
Knox searched for the heat hidden at his core. A dim spark twinkled its warmth. Maven’s words echoed. The Sky has no bounds; cannot be drained; cannot be emptied.
I’m here, he inwardly spoke, uncertain. Without proper words, how could he bind the power? Cannot be bound. He thought of his prayer in the mouth of the brecka. He’d believed then he had been drained of power, but his connection had remained. Cannot be drained. And now here he lay with only a mere hint of the Sky’s presence within him. Cannot be emptied.
What if this power they believed was controlled and manipulated by careful adherence to the laws of the Order really was a being?
Sky, come.
The thread within his chest burned with fresh fire. He opened his eyes and sucked in a full breath.
Emilia and the Commander traded blows, but the blows from the heavier club reverberated through Emilia’s long pole. Please don’t make me watch her fall. The heat thrummed within his chest, but it did not reach out to his injuries. He could feel it pushing outward but hitting a barrier. The manacles. As always, the barest trickle moved through his body.
Several more sentries had piled into the room, and Tehran dropped to his knee. One hand held his gut, the other the knife he had pulled free. He pushed himself with obvious effort and held the short knife up. The group toyed with him now, taking turns prodding and taunting him with their long poles.
Emilia clumsily deflected another blow and scrambled back trying to regain her footing. The pole in her hand trembled even as she set her jaw and steeled herself for the next attack.
The Sky. Not a mindless, elemental force, but a true deity. Knox had never paid much attention to the debates of the deeper theologies. But if she could hear him, maybe there was hope. Please help me protect them. He pulled on his strength.
Instead of flaring inside of his own chest, he saw the muted glow within Tehran’s chest, flash and expand. The warm light flooded through Tehran’s limbs, and he let out a whoop at the sensation. He rubbed at his belly with a grin as the wound healed. Tehran reset and taunted the confused group. “This is why you don’t mess with the Sky.”
A relieved smile cracked Knox’s lips. Apparently, there is more than one way to fight. He flared his pull on the Sky’s strength, and Tehran burst alight with power.
Remnant
Tehran
Tehran laughed and dropped the long pole he had picked up, heaving a sigh of relief. The burning pain of the knife wound vanished and the strength humming through him was a familiar fire; one he trusted completely. The men before him didn’t seem to know what to make of the shift in his mood. Their mistake.
He rushed the largest sentry, blocking the short pike he carried. He effortlessly twisted it from his grip. The man yelped, but before he could make any other noise, Tehran buried the sharpened pole between his ribs.
The four other soldiers recovered from their surprise and rushed him.
He didn’t pick up another weapon, choosing instead to use the men one against the other. He twisted and dodged, pulling momentum and shifting balance at the perfect moments for the guards to impale, bludgeon, and stun each other. With the Sky’s gift in his veins, it was too easy.
“Tehran,” Knox’s gravelly voice croaked. “Emilia—”
Tehran spun and stared at his friend. He’s alive!
“Save her!” Knox ordered.
Tehran looked across the room to see Emilia fending off blows from the Tumultian Commander. Even in this moment of life and death, she was incredible. She held her position even as Commander Quinmarq rained down blow after blow.
He gathered power in his legs and leapt across the room, flying into the Tumultian woman at full force. The woman was tall and well-built but no match for his bulk. She flew backwards to the ground. Before he could pin her, she scuttled to the side and regained her feet in practised efficiency. With a guttural scream, she came at him with violent swings of a gnarled club.
Tehran sidestepped the blows. A lifetime of training could not be underestimated, but paired with the Sky’s gift, there was no contest. He grabbed her wrist, stopping the next strike, and landed one of his own, a swinging elbow into her nose. Her head whipped back with a sickening crunch and she dropped the club, hands clutching her face, and staggered back. Without giving her time to recover, he swung a kick into her jaw.
She collapsed to the floor with a dull thud. With a groan she rolled and flipped a small woven side table over, revealing one of the modified bolt throwers hidden within.
He snorted and stalked towards her. No simple energy bolt would stop him.
She brought the weapon around and sent a ball of energy into his calf. He howled and stumbled. What in the depths—
Quinmarq scrambled for space and regained her feet, unleashing another volley of energy towards him. Two shots skipped wide, but one took him in the arm, and his limb went numb. He shook it and stared at her. A taunting smile returned to her face.
“Your gifts aren’t so impressive after all, are they, Overseer?”
Before he could even search for it, Tehran felt the power within him flare in response. He dodged forward, taking one shot on his shoulder, but avoiding the other three. The wave of dizziness only lasted a few seconds this time. He closed the distance, and the smile the Commander wore faltered. She stepped back, flailing shots towards him with greater desperation. Several hit, but nothing slowed him.
Pressed in by the far screened-wall, she abandoned the weapon and raised her hands ready to grapple. With no advantage and nowhere to run, it was over quickly. Tehran landed a solid hook to her jaw, and she dropped. He watched a moment, ensuring she was truly unconscious before turning back to the centre of the room.
The long pole Emilia was holding clattered to the ground, and she let out a relieved whimper. She collapsed into his arms with a half-strangled sob. He held her tight and pressed his face into her hair.
The strength flooding his body vanished as if someone had turned out the lights. He stiffened. He searched for the heat to pull on again, but nothing met his call.
“It’s gone,” he whispered. Emilia looked at him, confused.
From the floor, Knox groaned.
