Paragons of Ether

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Paragons of Ether Page 10

by Ryan Muree


  Grier sighed through his nose. “Currently. I hope that’s not the case for long, though. Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all.” Lawrence smiled. “I think the four of us will get along fine.”

  “Four?” Dova asked.

  A Keeper in full gleaming armor exited the airship from behind Lawrence. She was tall with dark hair and green eyes, and had a smirk that said she knew something they didn’t.

  “Another keeper?” Dova held her hand out to greet the woman.

  “Kylah Bodtson.” She took Dova’s hand first and then saluted Grier. “I’m under Curt’s command.”

  Commander Curt? That meant Kylah was trained for protecting the Stadhold borders from Ingini, for fighting.

  But Bodtson… Where had he heard that name?

  “No offense, but I didn’t ask for another Keeper. I can investigate this on my own,” Grier said.

  She grinned. “Librarian Jgenult and Captain Lerissa suggested I come along in case you run into trouble. You’re in charge. I’m just here to help.”

  His mother was part of it?

  Wait.

  He’d seen her name on paper, on lineage tablets… “Kylah Bodtson? As in—”

  “One of your lineage matches.” She smiled. “Yes.”

  Friggin’ jelted hol-shits. Of course, she was. Of course.

  He couldn’t help it; he laughed loudly. His mother had her hands in everything, making it easier and easier to despise her.

  Lawrence and Dova shared an awkward glance.

  Kylah forced a smile. “I realize this is probably a plot by your mother for us to get to know each other, but I’m actually very good at my job, too.”

  He shook his head. It wouldn’t matter. His mother wouldn’t win.

  He brushed past her. “Let’s get going, Lawrence.”

  Chapter 11

  Halunder — Revel

  Clove bit her lip and stepped into Halunder’s tunnel behind Jahree.

  The tightening in her throat, her chest, her hands… It had already begun. The air was damp and warm, and there wasn’t enough of it already. She tried inhaling and immediately regretted it.

  The voices would start soon. The whispers, the screams, the ether trying to make her insane…

  “I’m right here,” Mack whispered to her. “I won’t let anything happen.”

  “I’m not afraid of who we’ll run into,” she bit.

  “I know,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Squeeze it if you hear anything, okay?”

  She didn’t like relying on him—she didn’t like relying on anyone—but having someone to tether herself to in an ether mine was too precious to let her pride get in the way. And Mack knew what it did to her.

  The walls glistened as the chamber expanded and deepened. Drops of water echoed farther down ahead of them, but no whispers or voices told her shapes or angles.

  She checked her ears. Nothing. No blood. She let out a shaky breath.

  “Remember,” Mack said, “in through your mouth, out through your nose.”

  She’d recalled her training from years before, but it was easily forgotten when anxiety gripped her.

  Mack had gotten so used to ether he probably barely noticed it. He could stay down there for hours before it burned his eyes too much to look at.

  “Guys, I don’t think this is a raw ether source.” Jahree touched the walls with his fingertips. “Or if it was, the walls are wet like they hosed it down.”

  Clove cautiously reached her hand up to the jagged, black stone. It was the right type of rock—it even sparkled correctly—but there was a liquid on it.

  Mack touched the wall, too, and smelled his hand. “It’s ethyrol.”

  Clove took a step back. “Ethyrol? One spark and this place could blow?”

  “Good thing I’m an air Caster and not fire, right?” Jahree pointed ahead. “There’s a lamp down there.”

  “See?” Mack whispered to her. “We got this.”

  She nodded and unclasped her hand slowly.

  Jahree reached the end of the tunnel and put his back to the wall before he peered around the turn. “Clear,” he whispered. “But there’s a huge metal door.”

  Mack and Clove looked around the corner with him.

  It looked sort of like a vault door in Ingini where businesses stored money, but no one was posted outside of it.

  Jahree cautiously moved toward the door, and they followed.

  “Too bad we don’t have Adalai to squeeze through the cracks,” Jahree said.

  Clove glared at him, and he gestured a silent apology.

  “I’ll open the door,” Mack said. “You cast if anything comes for us.”

  Jahree nodded and raised his palms defensively. Clove pulled out her ether-gun.

  Mack turned the style with a little effort and pulled the metal door open an inch.

  Jahree looked through and gave another nod.

  Mack opened it a little bit more and only stopped when the metal started to whine.

  Jahree poked his head in and quickly back out. “There are two guards at the end of the hall protecting another door,” he whispered. “There are cells on either side, but it’s too dark to see who’s in them.”

  “So?” Mack asked.

  Silver ether danced between Jahree’s fingers. “I’ll kill the two guards before they can call for help, and if anyone else comes, I’ll stop them. You can check the cells for your brother. Sound good?”

  Clove nodded and adjusted her sweaty grip on her gun.

  Mack counted down silently. When he reached one, he swung the door open as quickly as he could, and Jahree slipped inside.

  There was a slight thumping noise as the air left his hands and severed the throats of the two guards. They collapsed on the floor, their protective gear clattering along with them.

  “Shit.” Mack urged her to follow. “That was quick.”

  Jahree made for the end of the hall to check their bodies, while she and Mack went for the cells.

  “Anything?” Mack whispered from his side.

  No. Nothing. “They’re empty.”

  “Let’s check the next room,” Jahree whispered.

  Mack and Clove joined him, crouching low against the next door.

  “There’s a window,” Clove pointed. “Look inside.”

  Jahree and Mack slowly stood and looked out of the small rectangular glass into the next room.

  “It’s a big place,” Jahree said. “There’s a lower level with a ton of cages.”

  “I saw people in them,” Mack added.

  “Yeah, but there are also a lot of RCA guarding them.”

  Tons of people. Cages. Guards. They couldn’t kill all of the RCA without getting caught themselves. So, how would they distract so many of them to get inside?

  Clove swallowed. “Is there a control room or something?”

  Mack rose again, barely peeking over the edge of the glass. His eyes darted left and right before he crouched again and nodded. “There’s an office or a room to the left here that has a panel on it like the locks from Ingini.”

  Jahree sighed quietly. “Of course. Now we know how the RCA is getting their tech.”

  “So, it should work the same,” Clove said.

  Mack cracked his knuckles. “The same as what?”

  “How we broke into the Goliath’s hangar.” She lifted her gun. “I need to get to that panel.”

  “And then what?” Jahree asked.

  “Then, alarms should go off, probably, and they evacuate. Possibly right here where we’re standing.”

  “Here?” Mack blurted. “We’re just sitting here. They’ll kill us.”

  Jahree moved toward the edge of the door. “We can just hide behind the doors when they come out.”

  Mack ran his hand over his whole face. “This is crazy.”

  But Clove wasn’t backing down. If Cayn was in one of those cages, she wasn’t going to just walk away. Cayn was worth the risk. She looked at Jahree. “Get ready to
open the door just a couple inches like before.”

  Jahree grabbed the door handle, bobbed his head in rhythm with a countdown, and slid the door open just enough for Clove to see through.

  The little office to the side was farther than she’d thought. The panel would be a lot harder to hit.

  She readied her gun.

  Eyes open, Cayn would say. Don’t close them.

  She aimed it at the panel, pulled the trigger, and the pulse thudded into the side of the panel with a sizzle. “Shit.”

  Jahree shut the door. “It didn’t work?”

  “I didn’t hit it.” Clove rubbed her forehead. “Okay, one more time.”

  Jahree counted down again and pulled the door open.

  She aimed and fired.

  This time it went into the corner of the panel, but there was no alarm.

  “Damn it!” Clove bit out. “I’ll crawl down there and kick it in or something.”

  “No, then you’re right in the middle of all of them,” Mack said.

  “We’ll go together,” Jahree said. “We’ll hide behind the door there.”

  “What?” Mack groaned.

  “What difference is there if we’re hiding behind this door or that door?” Jahree opened the door again, and Clove inched out, keeping her back toward the wall. Mack went after, followed by Jahree.

  The room was cavernous like ether mines tended to be but was covered in shiny metal. They were standing on a metal grating looking down into a room almost the size of a hangar and with several cages.

  Young, old, and a few children, even, were sitting or pacing in their cells. It was too far to see if any of them were Cayn, but there were definitely RCA patrolling every few aisles of cages.

  To their right was a stairwell down. To their left was the office with the panel she’d been trying to shoot out.

  They kept their backs against the walls as best they could to prevent anyone on the lower level from seeing them, and they made their way toward the office.

  It was encased in glass. There were buttons, screens, paperwork, a dashboard, and at least six RCA working inside.

  Clove’s heartbeat thudded in her ears. She drew in a deep, silent breath to steady her nerves.

  “Ready?” Jahree mouthed to them.

  They pulled in closer. If the door opened, they’d be hidden behind it—hopefully.

  Clove kicked the panel on the door to the office with the ball of her foot.

  The panel shattered into pieces, and an alarm went blaring. It reverberated off the metal walls and floors.

  “Evacuate to the tunnels immediately. Evacuate to the tunnels immediately.” It was an automated voice repeating itself between the alarms.

  The guards went running for the stairs and out several doors into neighboring halls.

  The workers in the office, however, rose from their seats and scurried about. But they weren’t leaving.

  Shit.

  “Ready?” Jahree asked.

  Mack nodded.

  Clove didn’t move.

  “We’ve got this,” Jahree whispered. “Mack and I will take care of the RCA. You look for your brother.”

  This was a terrible idea. They needed to turn around, but they didn’t have time to discuss it. They would probably die.

  Jahree pulled open the office door and sliced his hands sideways, sending two workers flying against the far wall.

  Mack rounded the doorframe after him and punched two men in the face.

  Clove followed, shooting two RCA in the chest. Or sort of in the chest. She’d aimed for the chest at least, and they’d fallen over.

  She picked up the papers on the desk—lists of names and numbers—and shuffled through them as quickly as possible. She wasn’t finding Cayn’s name, but he could have given a fake one.

  Mack grunted behind her, and she spun to find Mack pinned against the wall by an invisible force. A man several feet away held him there.

  “Jahree!”

  Jahree blew another man against the side and kicked the man pinning Mack.

  Mack dropped to his knees, and Jahree sliced the man across the face.

  “Did you find him?” Mack panted to her from his knees.

  She went back to the pages, scanning them over and over. “No! There are too many!”

  “We don’t have a lot of time,” Jahree warned. “The patrol will come back.”

  “Set these people free,” Mack said. “That’ll take care of the patrol. There’s more of them than RCA.”

  Clove turned to the dashboard—

  The alarms cut off. Two doors banged open down the walkway. The RCA members were returning with their hands raised toward the office.

  “Out of time!” Jahree shouted, using a torrent of wind to push the RCA back.

  The dashboard looked identical to the ones in Ingini. The voice button even had the same symbols and everything.

  She pushed it. “I’m about to set you all free. Come up the stairs and out the door up here to get out. If there’s a Cayn from Dimmur in one of these cages, come meet me at the office, please.”

  Clove closed her eyes and let herself slip into the ethereal plane.

  The dashboard was lit up in front of her with a clear supply of ether running into it. Revelians had even started using ether-fuel.

  She reached over and pulled the ether from the dashboard.

  It went black, she fell back out of the ethereal plane, and found the prisoners’ cages opening with loud clangs.

  Riotous shouting erupted from the mobs of Ingini springing from their imprisonment, clasping loved ones, and charging toward the RCA.

  The RCA were forced to turn on the prisoners, only to be swallowed and crushed in the stampede.

  Clove ran out and shouted for her brother. “Cayn? Cayn?”

  Jahree and Mack joined in with her, but no one responded. No one in the crowd of Ingini looked like him.

  “I don’t see him,” Mack said.

  She didn’t either.

  “Check the papers again,” Jahree said.

  She swallowed and shuffled through the papers in her hands. Names, ID’s, cage numbers, relocation…

  Relocation?

  Could he have been relocated?

  She ran a shaky finger down the page.

  Cayn S. — Wounded, Purchased — Loutan

  “He was here!” she shouted, tears blurring her vision.

  Wounded. He’d been wounded.

  “Loutan,” she shouted at Jahree. “What’s Loutan? Is that a person?”

  “No, it’s another RCA facility. It has a major research development team.”

  Mack was looking over her shoulder. “Purchased?”

  Jahree urged them to follow after the Ingini when the crowd had finally thinned. “These people have a long way to go to get home.”

  “Home?” one random man said next to him with a smile. “Screw Ingini. You see the food they got here?”

  Mack and Clove exchanged a quick glance, but she quickly went back to rereading Cayn’s name on the paper now crushed in her hands.

  He was alive. He had been, at least. He was here, right here. Looking for him hadn’t been for nothing.

  They moved through the halls, over the bodies of crushed RCA, past the empty cells, and up the tunnel and out.

  “Purchased. Jahree, what is that?” Clove asked.

  Jahree paused at the entrance of the tunnel. “The advisors,” he panted, “have servants that work for them. It’s likely an advisor purchased him.”

  “So, slaves?” Mack asked, trying to catch his own breath. “You guys have slaves?”

  Jahree exhaled. “Technically… you could say that.”

  Mack shook his head. “What a shitshow—”

  “It doesn’t matter!” Clove burst, relief washing over her. “He was alive! He didn’t die in the crash. He was alive, and he was here, and he was bought, which meant he was in good enough condition that someone wanted to use him. It’s not the best thing in the world
, but it’s the next best thing.” Her voice quivered as she looked up at Mack. “I’m going to see my brother again.”

  He smiled, and she couldn’t help it. All the stress, all the worry, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck and held on.

  Mack understood what it meant to her. Mack would be just as happy. Her brother was alive, possibly healthy and safe, and they had the next lead on where to find him.

  Jahree eyed her cautiously from behind Mack but quickly swung his head away from their direction.

  Was he… jealous? Of her hugging Mack?

  That would be ridiculous. He didn’t know Cayn like Mack. He knew he was important to her, but not to the extent that Mack knew and understood.

  And Mack understood that every lead was important. She’d follow every single one—

  Mack.

  She was in Mack’s arms, bragging about seeing her brother again, when his brother had…

  She pulled out of his embrace. “Mack, I’m so sorry.”

  He had tears of his own that he tried to blink away. “It’s… It’s fine…”

  “No, Mack, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “It’d be weird if you weren’t this excited.”

  “I know, but…” She tucked some loose strands behind her ears. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Mack shifted away from her, shooting a quick glance at Jahree before heading in the direction of their airship. “Everyone’s lost a lot in this war.”

  Chapter 12

  Fegrin — Revel

  Grier lingered near the Messenger, m’ralli paper in his hand.

  He’d scribbled a quick letter to Emeryss, explaining he’d been writing her all this time but that they’d gone undelivered. He’d told her to run, too, and that Orr knew and would be looking for her. He told her how children might be hurt, and as desperate as he was to see her, he had to make sure these untrained Scribes would be okay.

  She’d understand. Maybe not about the missing letters, but she’d understand his need to check on these Scribes, to follow his gut, to help. That was proof of how strong they were together.

 

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