Flynn Nightsider and the Edge of Evil

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Flynn Nightsider and the Edge of Evil Page 22

by Mary Fan


  A wide street stretched before her, lined with black streetlamps. Tall buildings stretched toward the sky. They looked a lot more interesting than the ones she’d been familiar with back when she’d lived in the Capital, since they’d been built before the war against the Lord of the Underworld. Even though she and Tamerlane stood in a Norm district, the buildings around her were as nice as the ones she’d seen in the Capital’s Enchanter zone, just a lot older. They’d been erected before the Triumvirate had segregated people and built nice things for Enchanters while leaving Norms with the bare minimum.

  Salvator City—or Chicago—had been one of the few metropolises in the former United States to survive the supernatural attacks that had wiped out most of the world’s population. She recalled visiting the ruins of a place called Manhattan, which had once been considered by many to be the nation’s greatest city. Now, nothing remained of it but empty, crumbling buildings.

  The sun glinted off a gleaming tower in the distance, and Aurelia wondered what it must feel like to be inside a glass building. Everyone could see you. Wouldn’t that be weird?

  But she wasn’t here to stare at the scenery; she was here to find potential new Risers. Narrowing her eyes, she surveyed the street. Without her weapons—Calhoun had insisted she go unarmed to avoid attracting attention—she felt vulnerable, but at least she wasn’t alone.

  Tamerlane stood beside her with a blue bag hanging off one shoulder. For once, he wasn’t carrying his wand, since he was pretending to be a Norm. She was so used to seeing him with that thing, it was as if he were missing a finger. But Enchanters didn’t hold menial jobs, like being sidewalk salespeople, which was what they were pretending to be.

  He nudged her with his elbow. “See anything?”

  “Nothing unusual.” Several people walked to and fro, going about their business, and hardly any seemed to notice her and Tamerlane holding flyers printed with ads for cough syrup. But those ads were more than they seemed—much more. If the Triumvirate found out what they really contained, they’d kill them on the spot.

  The flyers held a hidden message, stating the time and location of an underground Riser meeting taking place that tonight. Each would reveal its true nature if a person’s first reaction upon touching it was anger, and it would only transform before that person’s eyes. Each would only change once, and whether they transformed or not, the secret message would disappear ten minutes after the flyer was handed out.

  This was the Rising’s way of identifying people who’d be willing to join them, people furious at the Triumvirate’s injustices. And part of her job was to provoke the anger that would reveal a person’s true loyalties.

  She handed a flyer to a woman, but kept her grip on the paper. “I heard two people got black-bagged last night for calling the Triumvirs corrupt. They should’ve kept their mouths shut.” The words tasted like poison, but the point was to stir up anti-Triumvirate sentiments. She released the paper, and the woman cocked her head but didn’t speak as she continued on her way. Then the woman stopped in her tracks and shot Aurelia an incredulous look. Knowing that meant the secret message had been revealed, Aurelia lifted her chin. One more person who’d had enough of the Triumvirs’ evil. One more possible recruit for the Rising.

  Encouraged, she waved a flyer over her head, aiming to shout the way she’d seen sidewalk salespeople do in the Capital. But Tamerlane caught her wrist and shook his head.

  “Pass them out quietly,” he muttered. “We don’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

  She lowered her arm and nodded. If the Sentinels got suspicious, they could use their abracadabra to check the flyers for enchantments. Then she’d be a goner. Nervousness clenched her stomach as she tried to think of what she should say to the next person who crossed her path. A dozen ideas popped into her head—injustices committed by the Triumvirate that made her own blood boil. She scowled. There was so much wrong with the nation: the caste system, the black-bagging of anyone who spoke out against the government, the fact that it was run by that murderous piece of filth Salvator… The very thought of the Gold Triumvir made her seethe, and she hoped that when the Palace invasion happened, she’d be the first to find that tyrannous slimeball. Then he can learn firsthand what happens to monsters who mess with the Firedragon.

  “Hey.” Tamerlane gave her a worried look. “You’re supposed to make them angry, not yourself.”

  Aurelia tried to relax. “I’m fine.”

  As she handed out more flyers, she found it harder and harder to make her little mentions of the Triumvirate’s cruelty sound offhand. Most of the people she spoke to crumpled up the papers, which meant the message hadn’t changed for them. It also meant they didn’t care, and the fact that so many didn’t see how screwed up the world was frustrated her to no end. Each time another person casually tossed away a flyer, her anger sparked anew. Why were so many people so blind to the Triumvirate’s evil? Didn’t they realize there was a better world waiting on the other side of a Rising victory?

  She clenched her teeth, wishing she could pummel the idiots into coming to their senses.

  Tamerlane nudged her. “Lose the scowl. You’re scaring people away.”

  “I’m not scowling!”

  “Yeah, you are.” He opened his bag and rummaged around inside. “I’ve got a water bottle in here… Maybe getting hydrated will put you in a better mood.”

  “What’s going on here?” a harsh female voice demanded.

  Aurelia spun. A patrolwoman with short brown hair stood on the sidewalk, her dark eyes narrowed. The gold-colored trim on her otherwise solid-black uniform glistened in the sunlight. Without looking down, Aurelia noted what weapons she had attached to her belt.

  A gun, a trank, and a baton. I could knock her out before she reached for them. She braced herself, ready to fight.

  Tamerlane stepped in front of her. “We’re just doing our jobs, ma’am.”

  The patrolwoman eyed Tamerlane’s bag. “Is that a wand?”

  An alarmed look spread across Tamerlane’s face. Aurelia tensed. There was nothing illegal about being an Enchanter in a Norm district, but it might seem suspicious, and they didn’t need anyone looking too closely into their activities.

  The patrolwoman reached into Tamerlane’s bag and grabbed the orange stick. She examined it, angling it in the sunlight. “Enchanters don’t work as sidewalk salesmen. Who’d you steal this from?”

  “It’s mine,” Tamerlane said, his voice taut.

  The patrolwoman raised her eyebrows. “May I see some identification?”

  “I-I’m not carrying any.”

  Aurelia did her best to keep from jittering. The best thing she could do right now was be invisible. Tamerlane’s being an Enchanter gave them an advantage, since all Enchanters were above all Norms, even law enforcement officers like the patrolwoman. The woman wouldn’t dare challenge Tamerlane if she knew for sure that he wielded magic, but she’d have no problem dragging Aurelia off.

  The patrolwoman placed the wand’s carved handle in his palm. “If you’re an Enchanter, prove it.”

  Tamerlane closed his grip around the handle and pointed his wand at the stack of paper in his other hand. “Chartis volant.” The thin white sheets rose from his hand. Their halves flapped like the wings of a bird, and they flew upward, trying to reach the top of the skyscraper across the street. He aimed his wand at them. “Redeant ad me.”

  By the time the papers returned to his hand, the patrolwoman’s expression had changed to one of nervousness.

  “Forgive me, sir.” She lowered her eyes. “I… I didn’t expect to find an Enchanter in a Norm district, especially working this type of job.”

  “I’m… doing field research for an academic paper about the castes.” Tamerlane’s voice quivered with a hint of nervousness. He gestured at Aurelia. “This Norm girl is my guide and case study, so I’m spending a d
ay living as she does to get a better perspective of what her life is like.”

  Nice cover, Aurelia thought, impressed by his quick thinking.

  He put his wand back in his bag then offered the patrolwoman a flyer. “I’ve heard the Norms aren’t happy with the castes, but it’s a system that works, don’t you think?”

  The patrolwoman didn’t speak as she took the paper, and Aurelia guessed she didn’t want to risk angering an Enchanter. Because Enchanters are above Norm law enforcement. That’s messed up. While it kept her and Tamerlane out of trouble for the time being, she still hated seeing a fellow Norm cowed by someone with magic.

  The patrolwoman glanced briefly at the flyer as she walked away. She did a double take then froze.

  Aurelia watched in anticipation. The Rising was counting on patrolmen coming to their side. According to Calhoun, many were sick of being pushed around by law-flouting Enchanters and spat upon by disdainful Sentinels. Having them side with the rebels would be a huge advantage. Not only would it mean having sleeper agents within the Triumvirate’s own security force, but their experience would be useful. An army of the people sounded nice, but the final battle would go a lot better for the rebels if a few of them knew a thing or two about fighting.

  The patrolwoman looked over her shoulder and gave Aurelia and Tamerlane a slow nod.

  Aurelia exhaled, and a hint of a smile crept onto her lips. One more Riser to join the fight, and she was a patrolwoman. Seemed like there was merit to Calhoun’s theory after all.

  She wished she could fast-forward to the gathering tonight, when a new wave of Risers would join the underground rebellion, taking her cause one step closer to changing the world.

  Turnout was better than expected. Aurelia usually hated crowds, but she was okay with getting jostled a bit if it meant more people were rallying around the Rising. Calhoun stood on a large box at the front of the dusty storage unit. The flickering lights along the high ceiling barely provided enough illumination, but perhaps that was a good thing—less chance of attracting attention.

  Standing behind Calhoun alongside the other Risers, Aurelia surveyed the crowd recruited from the streets of Salvator City. She recognized the patrolwoman she’d encountered earlier that day near the front row. No one seemed to care that they were being squeezed between grimy-looking boxes that had been sitting abandoned in that warehouse for God-knew-how-long. Their eyes fixed on Calhoun, and each gaze spoke of restlessness and anger.

  “The Triumvirs live in a fantasy.” Calhoun pressed his thumb and forefinger together, punctuating his words by stabbing the air. “If they would look down from their cloud, they might see how discontent their people are. What kind of world are we living in when a small minority builds its power by keeping everyone else down? When merely saying the wrong thing can cost you your life? Long before this land was the Triumvirate of North America, it was the United States—a nation that stood for justice, liberty, equality. Now, we get persecution, oppression, and a caste system! And the Sentinels, in their lofty homes, don’t give a damn. Where are the leaders who would speak for you?”

  A surge of passion and rage swelled within Aurelia’s heart. From the crowd’s muttering, they had to feel the same. Hearing Calhoun’s words reminded her why she’d once thrown away everything she’d known to join the Rising.

  She nudged Tamerlane. “How many people turned up?”

  Tamerlane held his wand in front of him and whispered something. A glowing orange “121” appeared for a few seconds then faded. “One hundred and twenty-one minus thirteen Risers… that’s a hundred and four.”

  “Whoa, that’s awesome.” This has gotta be our biggest secret rally yet. Aurelia’s heart beat faster, thrilled that the Rising had gained so many new sympathizers. Never mind whatever doom-and-gloom thoughts she’d had before about the Rising losing steam. There were plenty of people out there who felt as she did about the Triumvirate. And the hundred and four people standing in front of her were proof of that. Next time, there could be two hundred. And the day Calhoun finally released the explosive information hidden in the Memory Orb currently in Tydeus Storm’s possession, thousands would race to join her battle.

  Calhoun laced his thin fingers together. “I’ve seen the Triumvirate’s latest round of propaganda. They never cease to remind us that they’re the only ones standing between us and the creatures of the Underworld. But I ask you, which monsters are worse—the ones haunting the woods or the ones running the country?” He eyed the crowd, as though asking each and every one of them to give him an answer. “Here’s a better question. What will we do about it?”

  “We’ll fight!” Aurelia couldn’t hold still any longer. The rage churning in her heart demanded to be released, and she jumped onto the box beside Calhoun. “Listen, everybody! The Triumvirs take it for granted that we’re too scared to leave our comfy little homes, and that means they can get away with anything. Well, I say they’ve screwed us over too many times, and I’m not taking their crap anymore. Will you join me?” It hit her that she’d just hijacked Calhoun’s big speech, and she glanced at him sheepishly, hoping he wasn’t too annoyed.

  Calhoun gave her a fond smile. “Out of the mouths of babes.” He put his hand on her shoulder and, with his other hand, raised his fist. “The Rising shall prevail!”

  “The Rising shall prevail!” Aurelia repeated, raising her fist beside his.

  The crowd remained silent, and nervousness crept into her heart. She kept her fist in the air, wondering why everyone else hadn’t joined her rallying cry. Were they scared?

  The brown-haired patrolwoman met Aurelia’s gaze. Her expression firmed, and she formed a fist and raised it over her shoulder. Moments later, a man behind her raised his as well, his eyes intense with fury. A second man repeated the gesture and then a woman near the back and then another woman to her left. The effect rippled through the crowd, gaining speed as people let go of their fears and let their true colors fly.

  One by one, more fists went up, until everyone in the room had joined Aurelia’s gesture of rebellion. Dozens of determined, angry eyes stared at her, all demanding action and all willing to do their part. The sight sent chills down her spine.

  Yes, the revolution was spreading, and here, before her, was the proof.

  Aurelia grinned. All those ordinary citizens, coming to the Rising’s side. She could almost see them standing before the gates of the Palace, demanding the Triumvirs step down.

  The doors at the back of the crowd shot open with a bang. Aurelia craned her neck, trying to see past the people. She caught a glimpse of a gold cloak—a Sentinel. She dropped her arm in alarm.

  “This gathering is illegal and treasonous.” The Sentinel’s amplified voice boomed through the dusty warehouse. “You are all under arrest.”

  “Like hell we are!” Aurelia jumped off the box. She wanted to rush at the Sentinel and knock him out before he could call for backup, but there were too many people in the way. So she headed for the back instead, knowing there was a second door through which everyone could escape. By the time she reached it, someone had already pushed it open.

  She ran out then froze. A line of armed patrolmen stood before her, and three gold-cloaked Sentinels hovered above. The man hadn’t come alone. The glaring light from the Sentinels’ wands nearly blinded her, and she realized their worst fear had come true. The Triumvirate had found out about the meeting. She drew a breath. I’m not going down without a fight!

  She eyed the patrolmen, mentally tallying how each would likely handle an attack. She only needed to get one of their trank guns to stand a chance against the rest, but with so many before her, she wasn’t sure if she could do so. She cursed herself for being unarmed.

  The patrolman directly in front of her had his gaze fixed on something behind her. He wasn’t too large, and judging by his height, probably not that flexible either. Deciding he was as good a target as a
ny, she charged at him.

  “Halt!”

  Knowing that the others would fire their trank guns, Aurelia ducked. A few glances were enough to tell her which way each patrolman would fire. Avoiding their shots was a matter of being quick enough.

  And no one was as quick as she was.

  Her target aimed his weapon at her. Aurelia stepped to the side as he fired then grabbed his wrist and jabbed him in the nose. The blow stunned him enough for her to yank the trank gun from his hand. She fired at his neck before he could recover then spun and took down the four other patrolmen closest to her.

  After grabbing a second trank gun from one of the unconscious patrolmen, she dodged to avoid a wand blast from one of the flying Sentinels. She fired upward, but the Sentinel goldlighted away. At least a dozen others hovered over the building, surrounding it. Forget the Sentinels—it’s the patrolmen I need to handle.

  But there were so many. Even as Aurelia kept firing, she saw them black-bagging people and dragging them toward a long line of official vehicles. The sight ignited fresh rage. She whipped her arms from side to side, determined to save as many as she could.

  Another Sentinel fired at her. She leaped out of the way to avoid the wand blast then jumped again as he fired a second time. Fast as she was, she barely had time to react before the Sentinel threw a third blast. A cold sense of fear gripped her. No matter which way she looked, more people were being arrested and dragged off by the Triumvirate’s goons. It seemed they’d sent an army to arrest those who attended the treasonous gathering, and even she couldn’t take them all.

  The Sentinel would get her soon. She knew it. Unless—

  A hand clamped onto her shoulder, and light filled her vision. Heat engulfed her, and when it faded, she found herself in the Citadel’s main hall on the ground level. Tamerlane stood beside her. He’d goldlighted her to safety.

  But she wasn’t finished yet. She’d been on the verge of losing, but she’d fully intended to keep going until she was down.

 

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