Storm of Ash
Page 23
Despite the fizzing restraints, and burning Diasords, his colossal size made his course unstoppable and, within a heartbeat, he was back out in the long corridor and thundering purposefully towards the open balcony. The whole floor shook with the weight of his progress, as he powered towards the moonlit balcony, his progress just visible in a screen opposite. And I felt his heroic purpose in my blood. Arafel was nothing but ash, and yet it was still within us all. It was within the memory of every new shoot and bud of the old trees that ever held me safe.
He paused only briefly as he reached the balcony – a creature of the forest, holding the secrets of an ancient world within his feral arms. There was furious shouting, a deafening volley of laser fire as the guards regrouped, and a terrifying moment as it ricocheted around him, destroying the walls. But when the dust cloud cleared, he was still standing, like a survivor of the Great War, reclaiming the future. His silhouette rose on his free padded feet, bellowed to the world, and then swung over the balcony with old ease. And then he was gone.
Together with the Book of Fire.
Chapter 20
‘Now!’ I muttered fiercely, hoisting a semi-conscious Aelia to her feet and propelling her forward.
August attempted to mirror on the other side and stumbled, underestimating the immobilizing effects of the drugs. I gritted my teeth and extended my spare, wounded arm but August’s fall seemed to stir Aelia, who rallied gamely. Then, somehow the three of us cut a path down the banks of tanks towards the door, conscious the army of furious forest life cornering the guards could turn tail at any moment.
I scanned the group. Their Diasords were held high and Max was right in the middle.
‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered, and a feeling of desolation stole through me as August pulled the door closed, and rammed a metal restraint beneath its inconspicuous handle. Yet he would only turn us in, I had to trust his forest instincts and weapons would be enough for now.
August looked down and with a soft raw groan pulled both of us against him, and finally the tissues of my fractured heart mended, pumping warm wild blood where before there had only been ice. His arms tightened.
‘Aelia!’ I whispered roughly, so conscious that every passing second was depleting her strength as much as it was returning his.
He reached down to pick her up as he might a child. She tried to smile. ‘Jeez, Aug, I’ll be OK … just don’t let her hug me!’ she remonstrated, two tiny pink spots staining the contours of her pale face.
‘It’s a Diasord arrow,’ I rattled. ‘We have to find Eli or Tullius.’
August paled visibly as he caught sight of the small protrusion from her neck. ‘When … how long?’
‘I’m not dead yet am I?’ Aelia returned, exasperated.
‘Max?’ August added, gesticulating back.
I shook my head, running towards the door that led out of the apartment. I was conscious of how quiet it was outside, that no more guards had arrived despite the fracas.
‘He already killed you once,’ I whispered, inching open the door.
The corridor was empty.
I scowled. No waiting guard meant one of two things: one of Cassius’s games or there was a bigger problem elsewhere. We had to hope for the latter.
August followed, looking less than impressed.
‘Must have been a substandard specimen,’ he scathed. ‘The last of my test series was supposed to have been destroyed in Octavia’s time, and Cassius’s second generation work was for the thylacines.’
‘Thylacines? He managed it?’ Aelia rasped, despite everything.
‘Yeah,’ he returned drily, ‘the Tasmanian wolf is no longer extinct.’
‘Or the sabre-tooth snow leopard,’ I muttered. ‘Except that never actually existed.’
‘Unlike the short-faced bear,’ Aelia added closing her eyes. ‘Which is 2.5 metres tall, 800,000 years later.’
‘Yeah, well seeing as it seems we’re all absolutely fine with Max murdering August – or a version of him – and there’s plenty of time to swap cloning stories when we’ve got that arrow out, I say we put our energy into getting the hell out of here … Reckon the sky train will be taking passengers?’
‘Should be.’ August nodded, as we reached the corner of the corridor. ‘It’s automated so unless the systems have gone down for some reason …?’
I peered around carefully but this corridor was just like the first, eerily empty save for some distant shouting.
And then I realized.
The entire system of Pantheon crashed in Ludi Cirque Pantheonares.
‘It’s spreading,’ I muttered in an odd voice, ‘the Prolet rebellion.’
Aelia smiled, the tiny pink dots spreading momentarily. ‘Our … plan,’ she muttered.
August’s bushy eyebrows flew up in shock. ‘It’s really happening?’ he exclaimed sharply. ‘How?’
‘Just needed … the right … spark,’ Aelia forced out with difficulty.
Faint noises were beginning to drift up to us now: guards shouting, molossers howling and Diasords clashing.
‘For the love of Nero, it’s what we dreamed of, Aelia!’ August exclaimed, though I could tell most of his animation was to keep Aelia awake and with us. ‘Is Rajid with the PFF? Leading them?’
We crept down the next corridor, listening intently to the faint noises, working out their direction.
She didn’t answer.
‘Rajid was a hero,’ I filled in quietly. ‘The Cerberus and strix …’
It was enough. August’s face darkened as he glanced at Aelia.
‘And from what I saw in the arena, the rebellion is pulling from both sides,’ I continued. ‘Pantheonites too. It’s happening throughout Isca Pantheon.’
‘Then we’re up against Aquila Command,’ August responded grimly. ‘He’ll dispatch everything he’s got to quell the rebellion, including the myth army.’
August’s caustic words were enough to make my skin crawl. Of course Cassius would have a plan, he had a plan for everything.
‘Aquila Command … myth army?’ I hissed as we slipped into yet another empty corridor. ‘Is it as bad as it sounds?’
‘… Worse,’ Aelia muttered.
August grimaced. ‘It was always Cassius’s classified work so I have no idea of its extent, but it’s big enough to warrant mention in key defence strategies. And its nature is more Voynich than gladiatorial.’
I nodded. It made perfect, Cassius sense. A myth army in need of its General. No wonder he wanted Lake back so badly.
‘Where does he keep them?’
But I knew of course.
‘The Flavium,’ I breathed, recalling the maze of underground doors Unus and I had bypassed trying to find Max more than a year before.
We’d opened only one, and released a nest of serpents that brought Octavia’s games to a standstill.
Who knew how many more monsters Cassius had shut away in case there was ever a moment like this?
I inhaled deeply. Aelia was dying, I’d left Max behind, we had no army, and yet …
Come what may, you will find a way.
‘We get to Eli … and then we find Lake,’ I forced through gritted teeth.
***
‘If we make it to the holding bay, can you override the exit code? We could take a Sweeper … be in the forest within minutes?’
Aelia’s eyelids were tightly screwed shut. I could tell her pain was spreading.
‘It’s too obvious,’ August responded as we crept down a silent domestic corridor. ‘It’s the first place Cassius will barricade, but … if we can get to the guards’ stables, we may stand a chance?’
‘Bel … lero … there,’ Aelia whispered.
‘I hope so.’ August smiled gently. ‘It’s the aurochs’ training ground and the old exit. It was still usable last time I was there. So no time for any drama till we reach Eli, OK?’
His tone was deliberately teasing, and Aelia smiled but I could feel her slipping through our fingers with e
very passing minute. I fought the panic and focused on our plan, telling myself there was still time to turn the tables if I trusted enough. I thought of the tips of Arafel’s trees, long since lost in the Eagles’ laser fire, reaching towards us in the breeze. Help us, I prayed silently.
***
‘Always wanted to ride first-class.’ I grimaced, as we clung to the rails that ran down the top edges of the sky train’s capsule carriages.
August and I had each wrapped a protective arm around Aelia’s back, as we clung with the other to the rim of the skytrain; its automated coasting from platform to platform the only neat, ordered part of Isca Pantheon left.
And the breathless speed at which we flew, wasn’t the reason we couldn’t speak. It was the anarchy. There was disorder, fighting and mayhem on every platform we passed through – and for the first time in Isca Pantheon, there was little discernment. Pantheonites, Prolets and creatures ran amok in every direction and the guards lashed out indiscriminately, clean white lines and divisions forgotten.
I stared across into August’s furrowed brow, at dark eyes creased with unease.
Pantheon, his world, was in an uproar. It was really happening. We were in the middle of a war, and it wasn’t between Insiders and Outsiders. It had started right here – within Cassius’s own walls.
I wasn’t immune to the irony of it all. To the fact that a feral Outsider afraid of so much, was the spark needed for Insiders to stand together against the biggest threat to the recovering world since the Great War. I tightened my hold around Aelia’s limp body.
The Book could be halfway to the forest by now, at the bottom of a river, or torn to pieces and cast out in seven different directions. It didn’t matter. Cassius’s reason was gone, leaving me to deal with the rest – it was time for honouring promises.
We approached the floor at white-water speed, and levelled at the last minute, arriving at the main ground-floor station to the usual, timed announcement.
‘Isca Pantheon, Grande Stazione. All routes end here.’
I suppressed a grim smile. Not today.
‘Stay completely still.’
August’s whisper was barely discernible but it didn’t matter, we all heard them. There was some kind of fracas on the platform: two Pantheonites and a guard with at least one molossus hound, judging by the howling.
‘Orders are to remain in your units …’
‘… look around you … mutiny … have you even been to the Civitas …?’
‘… every man, woman and child … evacuation.’
We could only hear snatches of the conversation, but there was enough meaning and after a few seconds the air fell eerily silent. We held our breath, watching the hagas circling far above us. Even they seemed less than interested in the AWOL treats clinging to the top of the sky train.
‘It’s empty?’ I whispered, lifting my head to scan the length of the long white platform, so conscious of passing time.
The sudden quiet was disturbing too, but we had no choice but to move.
August swung down first, his physical strength now fully restored, and I carefully lowered Aelia down into his arms, before jumping down myself. Then together, we cut down through the silent main streets of Isca Pantheon’s Civitas, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. It wasn’t difficult – the entire city had been plunged into an ashen twilight, taking me back to the shadowy ruins of the Dead City in the gritty blink of an eye. Except this city wasn’t supposed to be dead. Not yet.
And whether it was the journey atop the sky train or her sheer stubborn will, Aelia was revived enough to stay conscious as we crept through the echoing alabaster streets.
Then at last there was a faint roar of life – from the direction of the grand forum with Cassius’s Temple of Mars. It was the type of disharmony that slews everything into slow motion, the way only real trauma can. Shouting, howling, laser fire, crashing, screams overlaying more noises I didn’t even recognize – taking me back to Arafel in flames, to ashen hopes and scorched hearts.
It was the sound of hell.
August was white-faced, tight-lipped as he glanced at me and then pointedly at Aelia.
‘There’s a way around the square,’ he whispered, ‘through the side streets.’
Aelia roused herself visibly.
‘No side streets!’ she growled, pulling herself up in August’s arms. ‘They’re my people … I’m the General of the PFF – they need to see me!’
The set of her obstinate jaw said it was pointless to argue. I understood. It was how I felt when I saw Arafel burning. I would have crawled towards my people on my hands and knees if I could. It was intrinsic to who we were. August and I exchanged glances in the surreal light, before moving down the street towards the noise of affray.
I crept ahead, to the corner where our small side street connected with the top end of the forum square. August was a few paces behind, the effort of carrying Aelia beginning to tell, even though she was light. He placed her down gently between us, as she gamely tried to sit up. I crouched to help her, so conscious of not moving her too much lest it spread the poison further, which was when I saw it.
A cobweb of blackened veins spreading outwards from the arrow puncture wound and extending beyond the buffer of my tied cloth. I forced a reassuring smile, though I could tell Aelia wasn’t deceived for one second.
‘Make him a … real Outsider,’ she whispered so only I could hear.
I suppressed a shiver, as though a cold wind had suddenly blown, before crouching to let my cheek rest gently against hers.
‘He is a real Outsider … as you are … Aelia … please … stay …’
And instead of Aelia, it was my father coughing, Grandpa whispering through the trees, Ida’s eyes closing, Mum barely recognizing me and Max … Max … I couldn’t lose anyone else, especially someone who’d proven such an unlikely and fiery ally.
‘You’re like the most annoying, frustrating, bossy, stubborn … sister I always wanted.’
She smiled – faintly – but it was there, before she parted her darkening lips.
‘Kiss … my …’
Then I grinned even though she ran out of strength, because it said everything, feral girl to feral girl.
August’s hand was on my shoulder, gripping it too tight. He’d been quietly observing the rebellion, and when he looked down at us his eyes were full of fresh shock that had me on my feet in a heartbeat.
‘They’re … executing them?’ he whispered queerly, as though he could barely believe his own words.
‘Who?’ I exclaimed, though I already knew.
I peered around the stone pillar in front of us, and felt my blood drain to my feet.
The square was filled with hundreds of Prolets and Pantheonites, but there wasn’t a Pantheonite guard in sight. Groups of well-dressed Pantheonites huddled together, while Cassius’s hideous central statue had been turned into a makeshift gallows with two thick ropes hanging in front of a platform. The statue was twice the size of an ordinary man, the drop to the floor more than enough to break a neck. Which seemed to be precisely the purpose.
My horrified gaze travelled from the cool white gleam of the statue, to the terrified, blindfolded Pantheonites being marched up to the platform in small groups. On the opposite side, a pack of loose molossus hounds and sabre-tooth leopards were making short shrift of piled skewed bodies, while a crowd in front of the platform heckled as though they’d been watching for some time. It seemed there were far more Prolets who’d voided the vaccination than we ever dared hope for. And now this.
Nausea climbed my throat. The scene needed no explanation. It was fitting revenge on a hierarchy that had reinvented barbaric practices for the purpose of controlling and torturing its people. And yet. I glanced back at August, already knowing he was thinking the same. That while these were the same people who’d cheered when Eli had been strapped, half-dead, to the cart in the Flavium, and the same crowd that screamed itself hoarse when Max and I had face
d the Minotaurus in Ludi – there was no way we could walk away.
Because that would make us just like them.
‘Stay with Aelia!’ I hissed at him, before setting off at a sprint down one side of the forum.
The stench of blood and fear filled my lungs as I sprinted past a fountain of Titus, spouting water from his mouth like a grounded Oceanid, and almost directly into a pair of mauling sabre-toothed leopards. I caught my breath, and lowered my eyes as they snarled a warning before returning to the remains of what looked to be a basilisk. I scowled, scanning the floor.
Had Cassius begun freeing his myth army already?
‘Tal!’
My eyes narrowed furiously as August caught up and set Aelia gently on her feet, supporting her weight as best he could.
‘What are you doing? You’ll speed … use up strength she hasn’t got!’ I remonstrated fiercely.
‘Yeah … try telling her that!’ he retorted, eyeing his sister with respect. ‘And besides … she’s right – these are her people more than ours.’
I could tell it was taking all Aelia’s strength just to focus, and I shot around to her other drooping side.
The spidery black veins we’re inching up her throat now, and one of the sabre-tooths had already thrown us a sidelong look.
‘Need to … talk … to them,’ she croaked, her eyes flickering uncertainly.
I nodded, despairingly.
‘Get me … on that …’
She was looking at Cassius’s Temple of Mars, and I knew then she wanted to show herself because she was the best chance we stood of quelling the bloodthirsty crowd. I sighed heavily. Why did she always have to be so damned right?
Together, August and I gently lifted Aelia across the stone forum floor and up the newly stained steps of the temple, which had seemed so grand and imposing before. Now it seemed only the crumbling alter ego of a madman.
‘Trust me,’ she hissed, shrugging August off and leaning all her weight on me as she forced her feet towards the front of the dais.
I supported her as best I could, a new emotion creeping through my veins as we looked out across all the carnage. Pantheon’s clean white lines and oppression had been replaced with a wild, vengeful rage. These were people who had aspired to a better, fairer, more equal life and yet who were now letting their need for revenge taint their blood. And the madness was spreading fast.