Beyond The Vale

by Brian D. Anderson

  Zara hurried to the corner and lifted the piece of wood that concealed the escape tunnel.

  After a final hate-filled glare at Linx, she was gone.

  “You know I should just kill you anyway,” said Bane.

  Linx pushed herself up and dusted off her pants. “You could, but you won’t. She needs time to get away. By the time the guards outside get anxious enough to come in here, she’ll be away. So why don’t you relax while you can?”

  “How did you let them know where you were?” he asked.

  Linx smiled. “I thought you might search me for a tracking device. So I put one in the P37.” Bane shook his head with a self-deprecating laugh. “Clever. Something I might have done,

  actually.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. You’re used to being the hawker, not the runner.” “But that still doesn’t explain how you knew where you were.”

  “Oh, that?” She tapped her chest and winked. “I see. You could have used the P37.”

  “Not very well,” she admitted. “But the crystal gives me some…advantages. Resistance to magic is one.”

  “You know, when Drake told me about you, he said you were a survivor. I guess I should have expected this.”

  “I like Drake,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong. But King Salazar is the one who kept me from ending up executed. And he’s…well…he’s the king. Whose side should I be on?”

  “The one that isn’t going to kill every soul in the provinces,” Bane replied bitterly.

  “You think I want that? But what can I do? Not a damn thing, that’s what. And neither can you. You really think you can bring down Troi?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re dreaming. I didn’t make it this far to throw my life away the moment I finally managed to get out of the provinces.”

  Bane couldn’t fault her. Drake had told him she’d been convicted of murdering a man who had tried to rape her. To be elevated from abject poverty, not to mention a death sentence, to a trusted servant of the King… how could she resist?

  “You’d better sit on the floor,” said Linx. “When they come, you don’t want to get shot.

  These guys can get a bit jumpy.”

  Bane glanced over to the wall. “That you care is touching.” He took a seat and leaned back heavily.

  “I do, actually,” she remarked, sitting against the wall opposite. “You think I don’t know the King is insane? And Drake did save my life. Why do you think I let the woman go?”

  “To save your own skin.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it. There are others.”

  The door flew open, and two royal guards, one crouched low, the second standing tall, rushed inside.

  Bane held up his hands and was thrown to the floor and put in handcuffs. Once back on his feet, he was shoved outside where the rest of the guards were waiting.

  “What were you doing?” one of the guards asked Linx as she exited behind them. “Just having a little talk,” she replied.

  “Lord Xavier wants you to return to Troi immediately,” he said. Two vans were approaching over the rise. Off to their right was Cal.

  “You don’t mind if I borrow her?” she called over to Bane.

  Bane was placed in the back of the lead van. The cuffs were designed to suppress magic. There would be no getting out of this one. A strange thought passed through his mind. He hated that Cal would be in Linx’s hands. His father had built her; and now it would serve the very people who had exiled him for nothing more than loving the wrong woman. As the idea persisted, a laughed slipped out. What a thing to be worried over, he thought. They’re about to kill you. Not before a long and quite painful interrogation, of course. Still, as Cal sped by, leaving the vans in her dust, he couldn’t help but feel anger that he’d let them have her.

  Chapter Seven

  Bane slumped down. The steel bit spitefully into his wrists, the chains not allowing him to collapse to the floor. His mind told him that he’d only been there for a few days, but it felt like months.

  They had sent someone from the College of Mages to administer the pain, a young man of about twenty named Sylas. He had been eager to meet Bane, in a sinister and macabre sort of way: Samuel Freidman, youngest person to ever become a professor at the college, expelled and turned hawker.

  Apparently, the young man had decided to become somewhat of a specialist for the Royal Guard. Bane was relieved that no one had taught him how to invade minds. But then the one who had taught Bane had died several years ago, And the skill was not widely known; definitely not a thing taught in traditional classes. But even without it, Sylas was most effective.

  Bane had never been tortured before. When it began, he wondered how long he could hold out. The answer was: not very.

  They knew everything. Zara of course would have anticipated this and evacuated every location of which Bane was aware. They knew that Drake and Lenora were beyond the barrier and that Exodus planned to destroy the facilities. Xavier had been the one asking the questions. He was every bit the prick Drake had said he was.

  The good news for Exodus was that they kept their information compartmentalized. In truth, he knew very little; not nearly enough to do them much damage. Though he still wished he could have held out at least a while.

  “Don’t feel ashamed,” Xavier had said. “Everyone talks.”

  Bane was weeping like a child, the burning sensation still coursing through his veins. To his credit, he managed to spit at Xavier, though sadly he missed the mark.

  “I wish I could say it will get better,” Xavier added. “But unfortunately His Majesty insists I press on.”

  That had been the first day.

  He hadn’t been brought to the upper city. He was somewhere on the fifth level, or maybe the fourth. Not that it mattered. Soon they would be done with him and a quick bullet through his brain would end it.

  A strange feeling, waiting to die. There were moments of acceptance when, had the executioner come at that moment, he could have faced it without fear. But then the need for more life would inevitably worm its way in, sending torrents of panic racing through him. Was this how the runners felt? Most gave up easily enough. But those facing a harsh punishment often fought to the last. Was this what it was like for them? The overwhelming need for one more day of existence?

  The echo of the footfalls outside the tiny room sent a chill through his bones. So soon? It had only been…he wasn’t sure. But it felt like Xavier and Sylas had left only a few minutes ago.

  The door opened, and a woman in what appeared to be the pants and shirt of a laborer entered. She was carrying a chair, which she placed a few feet in front of Bane. Without a word or so much as a glance, she turned and exited.

  A few minutes later, the door reopened and a hooded figure in an orange and black robe stepped in and took a seat in the chair. A high mage? What the hell was a high mage doing here?

  “Hello, Samuel,” said a deep yet distinctly feminine voice. “My name is Grand Mage Cossac.”

  Bane tried to stand up straighter, but his legs were too weak. “I didn’t know the high mages came to Lower Troi. I hope the smell isn’t too much for your delicate nose.”

  “Charming,” she said. “I’d heard you have a quick wit. Lord Xavier is quite taken with you. So much so that I swear the man looked sad when the King ordered you to be shot later today.”

  The words struck home, sending terror through him, though mercifully it was a passing sensation. “What do you want?”

  “I want your help,” she said flatly.

  Bane furrowed his brow. “My help? How could I help you?” “By killing the king.”

  An involuntary laughed burst forth out. “Are you insane?”

  “No. But His Majesty surely is. I know you’re aware of his plan to release the hellspawn.” “If you know about it, why don’t you stop him?”

  She sighed. “If only we could. But it is far too late now. We underestimated him. And now there is very little we can do but delay the inevitable.�
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  “If you can’t stop him, what do you imagine I could do?”

  She pushed back her hood. She was around forty, with auburn hair cut short around the base of her neck. Her brown eyes were deeply set and practically unblinking as she regarded Bane closely. “I am about to reveal something to you. Something that no one outside the order of high mages knows.”

  She now had Bane’s full attention.

  “You and those who learn magic at the College are far more powerful than we. The entirety of our strength is dedicated to maintaining the power station. Should you be faced with a high

  mage in a fight, you would find yourself easily the victor. Not even the kings and queens of Vale have been aware of our weakness. At least, not until now.”

  Bane was utterly dumbstruck. The might of the high mages was legendary. No one would dare to challenge them. Not even he would have had the audacity. And to learn that it was all a lie?

  “How…how is that possible?” he managed to stammer.

  “If people fear you, they rarely think to test your strength,” she explained. “It takes years to learn how to manipulate the vex crystals well enough to maintain the mana flow.”

  “And corrupting it to keep the land sick must take time too,” said Bane.

  “It does, actually.” She did not appear bothered that Bane knew this. “To maintain control of Vale is a lifelong endeavor. It is not for the weak-willed.”

  “Or the moral,” added Bane.

  “Strange that you should think us immoral,” said Cossac, “given the number of people you’ve murdered, I would have thought you less squeamish.”

  “I’ve killed people. But what you do…”

  “What we do is necessary to keep order,” she cut in, sharply. “You see things from a narrow perspective.”

  “I see that you cause people to starve,” he shot back. “That’s what I see.”

  “We keep people from overpopulating Vale to the point it can no longer support life. Should our efforts cease, people would be fed and happy…for a time. But eventually, it would be the end of us all.” She flicked her hand. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “You’re wrong. I understand perfectly.”

  She steepled her hands beneath her chin. “Your file did not mention that you were such an idealist. Perhaps I was wrong to come here.”

  Bane laughed derisively. “I’m sure it said that I’m a heartless, murdering opportunist. But then, who isn’t? So if you’re wondering whether I’ll go along with your plan to kill Salazar…that’s an opportunity I can’t pass up.”

  A smiled grew from the corners of her mouth. “Excellent. Then I was not misinformed.” “There are some conditions, of course,” he added.

  Her smile did not fade. “Such as?”

  “Reinstatement as a professor in the College.” Cossac laughed. “That’s all?”

  “No. I want to be the liaison for Upper Troi.”

  This was enough to banish her smile. “That could prove difficult. The current liaison is from a noble family. Removal would involve nothing short of killing her. That could cause problems should it be discovered.”

  “And killing the king won’t?”

  “I could ensure that you live in Upper Troi,” she offered. “As a tutor, perhaps. It would be far easier to arrange. If living in Upper Troi is what you want.”

  Bane thought for a moment, then nodded. “I accept.”

  The Grand Mage stood and pulled her hood over her head. “Someone will be along to carry out your execution within the hour. I’ve arranged it to be someone loyal to me. Go with them and do exactly what you are told.”

  “How do I get to Salazar?”

  She turned to the door. “These things require perfect timing. It may be weeks before we’re ready. In the meantime, you will be hidden within the High Mage enclave.”

  Bane raised an eyebrow. To the best of his knowledge, no one outside the Order had ever been within those walls. “You must really want him dead.”

  Cossac paused. “Want? No. But you will find as time passes that what you want is often different from what you need. King Salazar must die if Vale is to survive.”

  “And the hellspawn?”

  “If we can stop that in time, we will. If not, it changes nothing.”

  As the door closed, Bane could not help but marvel at the sheer depth and gravity of the situation he was now in. The level of deception was staggering. The High Mages, the king, the nobles – everyone in Troi, it seemed, had an agenda, one focused solely on holding onto power. He wondered what people in the provinces would do if it were ever revealed that their lives were treated with so little regard. Of course, that was the genius of it all. They did know, even if it was only on a fundamental level. Yet they felt powerless to change it.

  Controlling the desperate was laughably simple. When minds are consumed by day-to-day survival, there is no time for anything else. And even if someone does question the way things are, you can eliminate them without fear. Or if that proves to be problematic, you can offer them comfort and security. That was what they were using on him, after all – a life in Upper Troi to forget that thousands would die.

  As he was pondering this, the door opened. He hadn’t heard the footsteps outside. “Linx?”

  She was standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of gray workers’ coveralls, a P37 in her right hand. Surely she wasn’t the one the Grand Mage was talking about?

  “You know, it’s funny,” said Linx. “Before I came to Troi, I always thought the people living here were smarter than the rest of us. Somehow better. But they’re not.” She stepped inside and closed the door. “Take the Grand Mage, for example. She takes so much care to come all the way down here to talk to you without anyone knowing, yet she forgets to remove the chair she used so no one would know someone was here.”

  Bane remained cautiously silent.

  Linx plopped down in the chair and extended her legs. “And she didn’t even bother to check for listening devices.”

  A knot formed in the pit of his stomach.

  “No,” said Linx, answering the question he had yet to ask. “No one is coming. Only me.” What little hope Bane had dissipated in an instant. This was really it. He was about to die.

  “Then go ahead and do it.” He wanted it over with, while his courage still held.

  “What’s the rush?” When Bane didn’t respond, she nodded. “I suppose you’re right. No need prolonging it. But there is something I’d like to know: were you really going to try to kill Salazar? I mean, that’s pretty bold, even for you.”

  There was no sense holding back now. “No. I was going to escape and try to shut down the hellspawn facilities before Salazar could release them.”

  Linx smiled. “That’s what I thought. Takes more than a home in Upper Troi to buy you off, right?”

  Bane sneered. “I guess they just figured my price was the same as yours.”

  If the insult bothered her, she didn’t let it show. “We all have our weaknesses.” She rubbed the back of her neck and stretched. “Mine is a soft bed and hot food. Both of which I’m needing right now.”

  “Sorry if I’m inconveniencing you.”

  Linx stood and leveled the P37. “Not at all. I do want you to know that I think Princess Lenora would be very proud of you. And so would your father.”

  The mention of his father sent a wave of anguish through him. The hellspawn would be released, and his father would be helpless against them. In a fit of rage he threw himself forward, but his chains held fast. The sizzle of the P37 as it discharged and a searing hot pain that covered every inch of his body would be his final sensation, the smiling face of Linx the last thing he would see. He had failed. Utterly.

  * * *

  Xavier stood a few steps inside room where Bane was being held and scowled. The charred remains of the mage were still shackled to the ceiling.

  “A bit much,” he remarked. “Don’t you think?”

  Linx was st
anding just outside along with two elite royal guards.

  “What are you complaining about?” she replied. “You said to kill him. I killed him.”

  Xavier took one more quick looked at the body and then exited the room. “Did you? It’s not like he can be identified now, can he?”

  Linx squared her shoulders, locking eyes with Xavier. “Are you accusing me of something?

  If so, just say it.”

  Xavier smiled. “Not at all. I was just making an observation. Your loyalty to the king is beyond reproach. A pity you were unable to find Her Highness. But thanks to your efforts, Exodus will soon be destroyed.”

  “How nice for you,” said Linx. “I’m sure you’ll get a medal or something. Now, if we’re done here…”

  “Another meeting with the king?”

  Linx turned to leave, pausing a few steps down the corridor to call back: “No. I just don’t like being around you.”

  Linx continued down the narrow corridor until reaching the main stairwell. This led to a small waiting room where two magistrate officers were standing, checking IDs as people entered. She had found it oddly fitting that the royal guard would keep an interrogation room within the level five archives. This was where the magistrate kept the dirty little secrets they had gathered over the years. Magistrate Chase could shake the nobility to its very core with the information held here.