Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  Kull mumbled, “What about you?”

  The stranger waved away the question and pointed to the bed. “Lay down. We will talk more tomorrow.”

  Kull did not protest, though doubts still lingered in his mind. He laid his head down on the thin bed roll and had barely closed his eyes when the whole world faded away.

  When Kull woke, sunlight was pouring in from the mouth of the cave. The skin door had been rolled back and there was another small loaf of bread next to the warm embers of the previous night’s fire. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He took a deep breath of the cool mountain air and reached for the bread. As he ate, he felt refreshed and rejuvenated. He stood up and walked outside. The forest below was quiet, and it no longer seemed to be as threatening as it had the day before. The stranger was nowhere to be seen, but Kull heard the rhythmic sound of an axe hitting lumber in the distance.

  Kull hiked down the mountain path toward the sound. There, standing in the cool air below, was the stranger, naked from the waist up chopping firewood. A huge oak tree on the edge of the forest had fallen, its gigantic trunk and branches lay spread across the small mountain plain. The stranger was slowly whittling the tree down into firewood, arranged in a large, orderly stack. Kull stood perplexed at the man’s bare appearance. On his light brown skin was an intricate array of strange runes written in his flesh. The markings covered his entire chest, back, and arms with dark patterns of flourishing ink. Kull stared at the unintelligible words and symbols that were arranged in a magnificent pattern, filling Kull with a mixture of both awe and fear. It certainly was not what he expected to see, and something within Kull wondered if he should turn away from the stranger, but he couldn’t force his gaze away. So he stood there, silently watching the man as he labored, adding to the large pile of chopped wood with firm, swift strokes of the axe.

  “Good morning,” the stranger said, his silver eyes trailing up to Kull’s. “Come closer. I’d like your company.”

  Kull’s heart jumped in his chest as he buried his inclination to hide. He came down the mountain path, careful not to stumble over the large stones that lined it. He spoke, his voice nervous, trying to fill the silence.

  “Do you need some help?” It was all Kull knew to say.

  The stranger smiled, wiping his brow. “I’d welcome it, though I’ve made much progress since you’ve been asleep.”

  Kull couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long…”

  Without a word, Kull joined him, picking up a spare axe and stooping to place a heavy log on the chopping block.

  “Lift it with your knees.” Kull took the stranger’s directions and hoisted the log up. “We’ve got more to chop, so save your strength. The key is to let the axe do the work for you. Your job is to swing the axe, and the axe’s job is to split the wood. You don’t split the wood, the axe does. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” Kull took his first swing of the axe and clipped the outer edge of the log, knocking it off the chopping block.

  The stranger laughed and smiled. Kull put the axe down, embarrassed. He ran to the fallen log and hoisted it back on the chopping block. The stranger continued to split the wood as Kull positioned to take his second swing.

  Kull focused on the swing and allowed gravity to do the rest. The axe head fell through the log and split it with a satisfying crack. Kull smiled, but instead of praise he heard the stranger speak.

  “Split them into fours. That way we can get them up the mountain easier.”

  “Up the mountain?” The thought of carrying the large load of wood up the trail was dreadful.

  The stranger’s silver eyes connected with Kull’s. “Do you know a better way to bring firewood up the mountain?”

  The question was earnest, but Kull could not help but shake his head while cursing his own stupidity. The stranger smiled. “Yes. Split it into fours so we can haul the wood.”

  Kull nodded, and the two worked for hours splitting the timber. Kull fell into the rhythm of the task, placing the large logs on the block, swinging the heavy axe, and allowing the weight of the axe to split the wood. Sweat poured from Kull’s body, and as he placed the last log onto the chopping block, he looked at his hands.

  The flesh that had been crumbling, falling, and breaking down had changed somehow. Healed. His fingers had been crumbling apart only a day ago, whittling down like dry clay. The dust that Rank and File had put on him on The Hunt had all but failed him when the stranger’s guardians set after him on the mountain pass. Now, Kull looked at his fingers with amazement. They were whole again and stronger. Not completely healed, but much better, even after a hard day of work. He pondered this and swung the axe one last time. The last piece split with a satisfying crack.

  Kull cast his eyes over to the stranger. “Done.”

  The tattooed man nodded, flashing a broad smile. “Not quite yet. We’ve got to get the wood back up the mountain, remember?”

  Kull wiped his brow and shrugged. “Yeah, I almost forgot.”

  The man stooped down and pulled up a pack frame dressed with loose bindings. Kull only had to look at it to understand its purpose. The man strapped the pack onto Kull, loading the pack with the freshly hewn lumber.

  “I have to tell you, it is nice to have your help here, Kull. I haven’t had any help in a long time.”

  “How long have you been up here on the mountain?” A flash of realization washed over him. “And where is here, exactly?”

  “These are good questions.” The man wiped his brow, his long black hair curling in his sweat. He picked up his own pack, which was loaded with lumber. “The short answer is that I’ve been here as long as I can remember. I’ve been many places, of course, but this...this is a favorite place.”

  The two began to climb the thin trail, and Kull was thankful for the cool breeze blowing through the darkening twilight. The pack was heavy, weighing down over his aching shoulders. As the sky darkened overhead, a blanket of starlight blossomed in the air and Kull felt himself overcome with a magnificent awe. It felt like all of the stars were on display just for him.

  “You didn’t answer my second question,” Kull quipped.

  “Oh?”

  “What is this place called?” Somehow, Kull could feel the man’s smile in the dark.

  “Oh, yes. That. I call it Mir.”

  “Mir.” Kull let the sound of the place roll off his tongue. He liked the name.

  The two found themselves again inside the cave, and the man settled into stoking the fire. Bread and wine were once again procured, and the man opened up a large pot and held it out for Kull to inspect.

  “What’s this?”

  “This, Kull Shepherd, is what we will be working on tomorrow.”

  Kull looked down into the clay vessel to see a thick, golden liquid sloshing in the pot. He dipped his bread in it and brought it to his mouth. Sweetness exploded in his mouth like a thunderclap and Kull remembered the word. Honey. Kull ate and drank so much that night that his aching body could not resist the coming of sleep.

  It had been a good day.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Clouds of dust and ash drifted in the air as Grift inched out over the edge of Henshaw’s battered town hall, inspecting the damage. The building creaked and moaned under his feet, making it a wonder that it had not collapsed during the assault. Even from his vantage point, Grift could see gaping holes missing from the side of the building where it had endured artillery bombardment.

  Grift ran his fingers through his peppered hair and left his hand on top of his skull as he tried to gather his thoughts. Bodies and charred hulls of destroyed rooks were strewn about the brick buildings as if they were a toddler’s playthings. He took in a deep breath and scanned the slaughtered mounds of townsfolk below. Nothing living was left. Nothing.

  The Dominion forces had butchered most, if not all, of the remaining inhabitants, and the weapon Adley unleashed had destroyed an entire platoon of Seam’s soldiers in seconds. Grift gl
anced back at Adley in disbelief.

  “What is that thing?” Grift stammered as he pointed at the machine. “And how did you know how to work it?”

  Adley kept dialing commands into her datalink as Grift addressed her, her eyes focused on the screen.

  “Adley.” Grift’s voice grew. “Adley!” She glanced up, annoyed by the distraction. “What is that?”

  Adley looked up from her datalink and shook her head. “We don’t know what it is, exactly. Predecessor tech, for sure, but we can’t tell how old. Like I said, we found it in an abandoned mineshaft.”

  “Where? Where did you find it?”

  “Near the Crossroads…” Adley’s voice trailed off, grim at the mere mention of that place. “Once we figured out what it could do we knew it could turn the tide of the war. We just did not plan to have to use it so early.”

  “But how did you know how to use it? That thing is covered in ancient glyphs. I know you can’t read it.”

  Adley shut the datalink on her wrist and ran her hand over the machine’s control panel. “No. I can’t, but a number of the monks can. They still keep a codex that is able to translate some of the Predecessor’s runes. They knew enough to boot up the machine. Once you get past a few commands, the system is pretty intuitive. The monks worked for weeks on this thing before we got it...”

  “But how?” Grift sat next to Rot as the dog panted and slobbered on the ground next to him. “Who commissioned it? Who released it? Since when did monks peddle weapons?” The thought of Preost being involved in the weapons trade didn’t sit right with Grift as he inquired.

  “The queen and Wael have...” Adley was cut short as her datalink chirped. Ewing’s voice bellowed from the device. “Adley! Got word that a convoy is headed your way from Preost. Should be there in minutes and they have the Mastermonk with them.”

  “Wael?” Grift jumped to his feet and stood behind Adley, looking over her shoulder. “Where has he been, Ewing?”

  “Wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Grift. I will let him tell his story when he gets there.” Ewing read Grift’s face and assured him. “Don’t worry, Grift. He’s fine and he said he has a weapon of his own. He didn’t give me any specifics.” Ewing fidgeted with a pipe on the other end of the screen and puffed a cloud of smoke as he continued, “Maybe we stand a chance after all.”

  Grift looked down and rubbed at Rot’s grimy fur. “Hear that, boy?” He looked out over the golden horizon, trying to spot the transport, his heart light for a mere moment. As he scanned the horizon, his gaze fell on the burning remains of the truck that held his precious wife. His chest went empty and his breath escaped him, leaving him heaving for air, trembling with distress as he relived the last terrible moments of her life.

  He slipped to the edge of the roof line and gripped the waist-high wall surrounding the roof. He wrung his hands on the rough, red brick as he fought to catch his breath, to control the panic that shook him at his core. The episode came over him without warning, the inescapable truth of his loss crushing him from the inside. Wael may have found what he was looking for, but I’ve lost everything. Tears streamed from Grift’s eyes as he looked to the sky and quietly muttered his painful inquiry. “Why, Aleph? What did I do to deserve this? Why me?”

  “Grift.” Adley’s voice sliced through the fog of despair that had surrounded Grift and threatened to suffocate him. “Grift. Are you ready? I need help getting this thing unhooked and ready to move.”

  “Yeah.” Grift wiped at his eyes and paced toward the machine, his hands still shaking. “What do you need me to do?”

  A single truck barreled over the hills toward what was left of Henshaw. It slowed as it passed the wreckage on the town’s perimeter and proceeded to pull up to the bottom of the town hall. Grift peered down on the truck and glanced over to Adley. “I hope this is them. If not, we tore this machine apart about fifteen minutes too soon.”

  Rot let out a long howl and sprinted for the steps, disappearing into the smoky building’s innards. Grift could not help but laugh. “Well, Rot knows who it is. Looks like we’re okay.”

  Adley snatched up several pieces of the weapon and nodded for the staircase. “Let’s see if we can even get down the steps.”

  Grift picked up several more of the remaining components and followed. Adley nimbly maneuvered down the five flights of steps, leaping over charred sections that had been blown away. Once the two reached the second floor, the staircase disappeared into a large, smoldering void. The ground floor was nothing more than ash and char, a burned out hull where the steps once were.

  Grift looked back up the staircase. “Well, we can always jump down, but this will make it a lot more difficult getting the bigger pieces down.”

  Adley nodded and squatted as she examined the drop off stretching out a few inches from her feet. “I guess we can make a few trips and just pass it down to Wael. Maybe he has some help with him.” A timber broke loose and dropped from the third story, flashing by Adley.

  Grift pulled her back from the falling wreckage. “I don’t know that those stairs can handle a few more trips.” Grift squinted and tried to focus on the stairs rising over him. “This entire building has been beaten into a pulp.”

  “Maybe I can help.” The voice. It was…familiar. It was a voice Grift knew before his world had been torn apart. He looked down through the smoke-filled first story only to see Luken emerge from the gloom.

  “Wha...what?” Grift sputtered, pushing back from the ledge. “Ha...how? It’s not possible.”

  Adley glanced at Grift as the color fell from his face, leaving him as white as the ashen walls surrounding them. “Grift. What’s wrong? He’s here with Wael.” She pointed, her face twisted with confusion. “Look. Wael is right behind him with Rot.”

  Grift pointed at Luken and screamed, “You’re dead! I saw you die!”

  Luken’s mischievous grin stretched over his lips and he chuckled. “I’m afraid there is a lot to tell you, friend.”

  Grift stammered and gripped the top of his head. “Impossible! How? Where were you? What happened?” He stared at Luken and then turned to Wael, his face demanding an answer. “How?”

  Wael stepped forward and spoke up. “Grift. We don’t have time to explain right now, but you know who Luken is now. He is the Sixth. The Exile has been found. We will have time to explain the details later, but now we have to get to Taluum as quickly as possible.”

  Thoughts crashed through Grift’s mind as he digested the fact that Luken was standing in front of him, breathing and well. Luken leapt from the first floor and landed next to Grift, causing both Adley and Grift to gasp.

  Grift pushed away from Luken and recoiled from his outstretched hand. “Who are you?”

  Luken’s eyes softened as he grinned. “We don’t have much time now, Grift. You have to trust me.”

  Grift shook his head and reluctantly took Luken’s hand. He looked back to Wael, searching for answers. “Wael?”

  Wael nodded and glanced out of the building before turning back to Grift. “We don’t have long, Grift. They are coming.”

  Adley adjusted the large piece of machinery tucked under her arm and gestured toward Luken to help. “Grift, I have no idea what’s going on or how this guy can jump one story in the air, but I don’t care at this point. We don’t have long. We need to get the rest of the machine down.”

  Luken glanced at the weapon component tucked under Adley’s arm and cocked his head. “Where did you get that?” His eyes flew from Grift to Adley, searching for answers.

  “It’s Predecessor tech—” Adley stammered.

  “I know what it is, but where did you get it?” Luken’s voice was sharp, edged with concern.

  “Lotte. It was found in a mine near the Crossroads.”

  Luken’s countenance dropped and he turned to look at Wael, his face heavy with some unspoken secret shared between him and the monk.

  Grift spoke. “If it wasn’t for this thing, we would have died. Seam’s f
orces had us pinned down. Adley used the weapon as a last resort.”

  Luken nodded and muttered, “I’ve heard that before.”

  Adley spoke, turning her attention to Wael. “Ewing can give you more details, Wael, but the machine needs to be transported to Taluum. If it fell into Seam’s hands…” Her voice trailed off. “We need help. There’s too much up there for one person to carry.”

  Luken cut in, “I will help you get the pieces down. You both need to get to the truck with Wael. We need to hurry. We intercepted an emergency broadcast in route. Your little show of power has already made some waves, and reinforcements are on the way.”

  Grift shook the cobwebs from his mind and focused on the task at hand. His eyes cut between Wael and Luken as he struggled to process Luken’s reappearance. “How far out are they?”

  “Not sure,” said Luken as he started up the steps. “They weren’t saying too much, but I know there are a lot of them.” Luken pointed at the weapon component. “Get that thing to the truck. I am right behind you. I’ll gather the rest.”

  Grift and Adley carefully made their way down to the bottom floor. Rot playfully danced around his master, bounding up and down, shaking his rotten nub of a tail. Wael’s deep, booming voice filled the room, and he stooped down to allow the beast to pelt him with powerful licks and nuzzles. Wael fell to the dirty floor, delighted to be reunited with Rot.

  “You missed me, didn’t you? I missed you too, dear one.” Rot howled in answer and nuzzled his massive head into the monk’s chest, happily panting.

  Grift couldn’t help but smile at the exchange, but still his heart felt empty. Suddenly, his face went pale. You can’t leave her. You can’t leave them.

  “Wael,” Grift whispered to the Mastermonk. Wael pushed away Rot’s advances and stood.

  “Grift?” The question was an invitation, and Grift’s whole body thought it might explode.