by T. C. Edge
“I don’t know, Zander. Not for sure. I heard a bunch went from the northern quarter, perhaps three or four.”
“And what about when?” I ask. Both men frown. “I mean, when did Hatcher go to Inner Haven?”
Titus stares off into the middle distance for a moment, thinking. Then he says, “Not too long ago. Mid afternoon perhaps. Maybe a bit earlier.”
I turn to my brother.
“It makes sense, Zander,” I say. “Timing-wise. We’d just left the REEF around about then. Clearly word was sent to Cromwell that we’d been there, and knew his plans. He sends an order out for Hatcher to head straight for Inner Haven to…”
“Assassinate Lady Orlando,” my twin finishes.
“Exactly,” I say, heart thrashing like a trapped fish.
“Then…we’re too late,” he whispers. “To save her, at least.” His eyes fall, his mentor gone. His grandmother, who he never got to speak to as her grandson. Gone.
I feel my fists crushing again.
“We avenge her,” I growl. I move in and plant firm fingers to his arm. “We avenge them all. And we save the rest…”
Our twin eyes lock, hazel shining. I forget, for a moment, that Titus is there.
Then his voice booms again.
“She isn’t dead,” he says. “Lady Orlando isn’t dead.”
We look right up at him, like two little children gazing up at an adult.
“You spoke with her?” I ask, hope spiking.
“Not personally, no. But she’s been in constant contact with Commander Burns and Rycard. And, well, aside from my radio playing up, I’ve been in contact with them intermittently. She’s at the City Guard HQ as far as I know, running the show back there.”
“And when did you last hear from her. Or…that she’d spoken with Burns or Rycard?” asks Zander hurriedly.
“Um, not long ago. Half an hour perhaps.”
I exhale loudly.
She’s alive.
Please be alive.
“I can see you’re both exhausted,” says Titus. “Perhaps you’re not thinking clearly. Think about it - if Cromwell really does want to stage a coup, then he can’t give the go ahead until the Cure are defeated. So, he can’t exactly send anyone to murder the current leader of the city, who commands the loyalty of so many soldiers and civilians. That’ll create havoc, and weaken his chances of retaking the throne. If Colonel Hatcher really has been sent for that purpose, I can only imagine that he’s on standby, ready to execute at the right time.”
“Yes. Yes, that sounds logical,” says Zander. “He probably ordered Hatcher into Inner Haven before it went into lockdown. If he knows we know…”
“He does know we know!” I say.
“Fine,” says Zander. “He knows we know…so he’ll also know that, as soon as we got back to the city, we’d do exactly what we’re doing. He’s sent Hatcher through the gate, quite probably with a group of Stalkers, ready to strike when commanded.” My brother looks me dead in the eye. “We’re not going to get any rest yet, sis. We have to get back immediately.”
He turns again to Titus.
“Thank you, Titus, for the head’s up. Hold the line. Spread the word. If you can talk to Commander Burns, do so as soon as you can. Tell him what we told you. And don’t trust anyone with ties to Cromwell.”
Titus’ mighty chin drops into a single nod.
“I’ll do what must be done,” booms his voice. “Inner Haven isn’t far. Good luck to both of you.”
He sets a firm look at Zander, then lifts a soft smile at me. And in that moment, I think of Magnus once more.
Then, we turn, and continue straight on to Inner Haven.
268
Behind our own lines, the going is quicker and less fraught with potential danger. We don’t need to take the same care when traversing the streets and working down alleys. No sentry guns are in operation here right now. Though some are in position, they won’t yet be activated until we’re forced to withdraw behind them.
In my mind, I form a picture of the overall battle as we go, moving towards the innermost districts in the west and heading straight for the western gate. It has become clear from what we’ve seen that the outer districts are lost. Yet from the position of Titus’ men, and the information he gave us, it would appear we’re holding the Cure out around the central districts in each quarter.
We have further security blockades to withdraw to if needed. Each quarter had them set up in the outer, central, and inner districts, giving us various points from which to stage more secure defences. The walls of Inner Haven are another line of defence. And beyond them, there are more blockades.
As it stands, we’re holding them back and cutting them down, piece by piece. Having seen reinforcements join from the outerlands, we have to assume that they have few, if any, battalions remaining to join the fight. If they’ve already sent their full strength forward, and are being held in the centre of Outer Haven, that’s a fairly good sign that their challenge is gradually being worn down.
Block by block, we gallop with all we have until the walls of Inner Haven finally come into view. Stretching away from the western gate, the central street that cuts right through the western quarter stretches off into the distance. As we reach it, we turn together and see the inner blockades nearby, barely manned and yet to be reached. Further away, concealed by the darkness, the major battle in this quarter will be being fought.
We have to fight the urge to join the fray, so tempting as it is to do whatever we can to help. But we have a more important purpose right now, and it calls us to the east, to the core of this great city.
So we turn from the flashing lights and booming sounds that play in the distance, and venture further from the battlefield, heading straight down the main road towards the gate. We slow our step on approach, not willing to be caught in a blast of friendly-fire as we were before. Moving carefully, we raise our arms from a hundred metres out, and find ourselves immediately lit up by a powerful spotlight that blazes from behind the wall.
Over a loudspeaker, a voice cuts through the din.
“Keep your hands high. State your names.”
“It’s Zander and Brie,” calls my brother.
He doesn’t need to say any more than that. We continue to walk until a Hawk catches sight of us to confirm our identity. We’re both so recognisable now that it happens quick. Within moments, the gate is cranking open, parting at the middle, and the spotlight is shutting off, plunging the world back into darkness.
We drop our arms and move into a jog, heading straight for the gate as several armed soldiers step out to escort us inside. They hurry us through as the gate immediately grinds shut, and beyond I see the large trucks parked across the road to provide a further block for passing vehicles. They’re not required to move seeing as we’re on foot, and we quickly rush beyond them as the commander at the gate mines for updates.
“We haven’t heard from you for hours,” he says. “Where have you been?”
“No time to discuss it here,” Zander says, eyes searching the street. “We need a car and immediate transfer to the City Guard HQ.”
“Yes, of course.”
The commander calls out some orders and a car rushes in. I note that the gate is still well protected, with a fair number of soldiers here who are all loyal to us. I recognise many of them as soldiers of the Nameless, of City Guards who have proven themselves to be committed to Lady Orlando’s rule.
As the jeep comes pulling to a stop, I ask the commander whether any Cromwell loyalists have passed this way.
“His soldiers remain in the fight,” he tells me. “Most of our men are out there too. We don’t have many still defending Inner Haven.”
“And Colonel Hatcher? We heard he passed the walls?”
“Yes, he did. He ventured through the northern gate. The commander there updated me on it. He had three Stalkers with him.”
“And when was this?”
“Quite some time ago. Ear
ly afternoon.”
Lines up with what Titus told us, I think.
“Thank you, commander. Keep your ear out for updates. And don’t let any of Cromwell’s men past the gate.”
“Of course. I should tell you, however, that a couple of the Consortium are here too. They were brought here yesterday evening.”
Zander, who had been readying to get into the car, steps back towards us and joins the conversation.
“Who?” he asks.
The commander looks to him.
“The High Secretary for Order, Mrs Blackwater, and the High Secretary for Development, Mr Linney. They were escorted here when the Cure ransacked the outer districts, along with Agent Woolf…”
“Woolf,” I growl. “She’s still alive?”
“Yes. As I understand it, the remainder of the Consortium were killed on transfer. Including Director Cromwell.”
I frown. So does Zander. I set about correcting the man, but Zander stops me.
“Ok, Commander. Thank you. We need to update Lady Orlando immediately.”
He moves away, and I follow. We step into the back of the jeep, its assigned driver already in his seat and ready to transfer us to the City Guard HQ. As we begin driving away from the wall and around the outer spiral, I turn to Zander with a question.
“They think Cromwell’s dead?” I whisper.
“Seems that way. Titus wasn’t sure of his fate either.”
“So he clearly hasn’t been in contact then? At least, not with our people.”
“We can’t be sure of that. He may have spoken with Lady Orlando. Not all news is going to filter down immediately.”
“I suppose. So, as far as everyone knows, he got caught up when travelling to Inner Haven and killed?”
“Killed, or missing,” says Zander. “No one saw us helping him out, and no one’s heard from us since. It’s no wonder they think he’s captured or dead.”
“Except his Stalkers. I’m sure they’ve been updated.”
“Most likely.”
“And what about Woolf and those Consortium members? I wonder where they are?”
“We’ll find out momentarily. Woolf may be a threat. We need to confirm where she is. The others aren’t important.”
“A threat. I should say. She could destroy us from the inside out in no time at all. So Hatcher and Woolf. We need to deal with them both…”
“Steady, Brie. Not everything’s adding up and making total sense. We need to confirm some things first. We can’t go killing them yet.”
“Not kill them. That’s not what I mean. Just isolate them.”
“Fine. Just be careful. We can’t know anything for sure until we confirm it with our own eyes and ears. We need to get Lady Orlando alone to update her. Don’t go speaking out of turn if she’s with company.”
“Right. I’ve got ahold of it, Zander. Don’t worry.”
We press on, the car whizzing fast and the motion setting my stomach turning. Any time a period of silence begins, I feel my head beginning to fade and my eyes droop. I have to blink hard to maintain my focus, take a deep breath, and keep my body moving. To keep my mind busy, I enter into further discussion with Zander, and each time find him equally ready to drop.
Both of us are in dire need of sleep. We’re no good functioning like this.
Yet, we have more to do, and have to stay alert. Opening the window, I let a rush of cool air flow inside the car to keep us primed. I turn my eyes around the city as we circle around the spiral and cut down lanes, working quickly through more security blockades towards the core. The roadblocks here are primarily unmanned, however, merely obstacles intended for slowing our enemy should they manage to break through. Hopefully they won’t be needed.
Before long, we’re pressing right towards the heart of the city, and my eyes are spotting the odd collection of reserve soldiers. They are, in reality, regular civilians, merely tasked with keeping the peace and only to be called to fight should times become so desperate we need them. Mostly, they have no uniforms at all, and no armour. Their weapons are only those that could be spared, and their ability to use them will no doubt be limited.
Still, it’s comforting to know that these streets aren’t entirely unguarded. Within their ranks, a few more seasoned soldiers take charge, but there aren’t many of them. Most proper soldiers are out there fighting, and what we have here wouldn’t last a minute should a proper force come surging.
The shelters are filled as we pass by them. Intended to protect against the toxic rain, they’re now bunkers where our reserve forces gather. Further towards the core, the remainder of the civilian population have now gathered. All those living in the streets of the outer spiral have now been beckoned inland. Every spare space has been given over to housing those displaced from their homes, and the many thousands of refugees from Outer Haven.
There are even refugees from beyond the perimeter wall too. As we lurch onwards, approaching the central street that once led to the High Tower, I spot the unique garb of the Fangs, several of their hunters on watch outside an apartment block. Clearly, Sophie managed to escort them here safely last night. I wonder whether Rhoth and his main hunters went back out to join the battle?
I put the query to Zander and he suggests it’s likely.
“Rhoth never shies from a fight,” he says. “Even one that doesn’t suit him.”
I’ve learned that about the mighty Fang. He is combative and protective to a fault. If his tribe are in peril, he’ll risk his life over and over in order to save them. But my brother is right. This isn’t his sort of fight, here in this land of brick and mortar. He’s not used to fighting in a concrete jungle like this.
“I hope you’re wrong,” I say.
It’s a weak hope.
The City Guard HQ soon comes into view, set to the right of the toppled High Tower. The jeep rumbles towards it, the streets quieter than the preceding days with the soldiers all out fighting the war. All civilians are now huddled and hidden away, battening down the hatches and hoping, praying, for a positive end to come.
Among them will be Brenda and Tess, working to keep the children calm, locked away in Compton’s Hall. I turn my gaze on the building’s facade as we go, and find the doors shut tight, probably barricaded from within. They’ll be safe in there, I know.
They’re be safe in there, I hope…
The jeep stutters to a stop, tires screeching on the road. Zander and I fall out, and our chauffeur moves immediately off. We turn to the City Guard HQ, and find the doors open. Past large stone pillars we walk, moving straight for the heavy double doors as the sound of voices begins to fill the air.
I catch sight of the interior, and see the foyer busy. The central command centre of the entire war is being run from here, and within the hubbub and hum, I see an old figure, standing on weak legs, directing what matters she can.
We hurry forward and, to my grandmother’s side, talking down a radio, I see Adryan. The endless hammering of my heart takes on a different tune. I look upon him and feel a note of joy sing through me. It takes a few seconds for them to notice us. And when they do, so does the entire room.
It falls silent for just a second. Conversations die a sudden death. Technicians and soldiers stop stiff in their tracks. Eyes work towards us as we step inside, looking at us like we’ve risen from the dead.
But I have no eyes for them. Only Adryan. Only my grandmother.
My husband’s mouth curls into a smile. My grandmother’s eyes appear to glisten immediately.
“You’re safe,” she whispers, the room so quiet her words spread forth unhindered. “You’re here…”
We hurry through the hall to join them. And the din is gradually restored.
269
The first thing I do is fall into Adryan’s arms. I hug him with what remaining strength I have and bury my head in his chest in a moment of weakness. I care not who might be watching, who might see. In that moment, it’s just the two of us.
His he
art hammers behind his chest. I feel it, hear it singing to me. The rising noise, restored as the war effort resumes, tells of men and women getting straight back to work. I know I need to do the same.
I pull away, and look at my grandmother. She stands, face to face with Zander, her palm to his cheek and tears gathering in her weary, old eyes. They spot me, and a smile lifts. I step from Adryan’s arms to hers and feel her warm embrace.
“What happened to you two?” she croaks. “We lost contact with you late last night. We thought you were…”
“We’re fine, Lady Orlando,” says Zander as I pull back once again and huddle to Adryan’s side. “We have urgent news you need to hear.”
His eyes skip left and right.
Our reunion concluded, our minds turn again to the threat of Colonel Hatcher, and Agent Woolf.
“Of course, what is it?” she asks. “Please, we’ve been dying to know where you’ve been.”
Zander continues to search the room. I do too, and see no sign of Hatcher or Woolf, or any of the other Stalkers who came here with the former. On appearances alone, everything seems fine. But appearances can be deceiving.
“Well?” continues Lady Orlando. “Don’t keep us in suspense,” she laughs awkwardly.
Zander gulps and blinks hard. The bright lights above are quite overpowering, and the growing din isn’t overly pleasant either. He’s reaching the end of his tether, and his faculties are failing him. I decide to answer myself.
Keeping my voice low enough for only them to hear, I begin.
“We were in the outerlands,” I say. “We went out there last night to disable the sonic machine. We did so, and took out two Elementals…” A thought comes to mind, and I frown. “Didn’t you get the message?” I ask. “Colonel Hatcher…he went north with some Stalkers to do the same. We went south…”
Lady Orlando nods.
“Yes, yes we know that much. We knew your plans, though vaguely. But we lost contact with you soon after. I was afraid you’d been killed.”
“My radio got bust,” grunts Zander. “We took a tumble down the underground river. Had no way to make contact until we got back.”
