by Casey Eanes
She eased through her brother’s doors only to see him sitting up in his bed. His bedroom was dark, but the moonlight made it impossible to hide that someone was standing over Hagan.
Grift.
Willyn searched through her quiver for the proper jave. Amidst a handful of explosive and gas javes, there were only two that she could use without killing her brother. She gripped one of the two razor javes and closed her eyes. You’ve got one more chance.
She inched further into the bed-chamber, hiding herself behind the columns lining its perimeter. Pressing her back to the column, she waited. She would have only one chance to land her shot. Rage clouded her vision as she heard him speaking to Hagan.
“Why did you do it?” questioned Grift in a hushed tone, “Why did you incite war against my people?”
There was no response from Hagan, whose body remained silent except for the steady whirrs, clicks, and beeps of the machinery keeping him alive.
"Where did you hide it, Hagan? You don't have much longer to live."
Willyn strained to see in the darkness and waited for the opportune time to strike.
Grift hushed all his questions and stood over him like a statue. His hands went down to the pistol at his side. He knows you’re here. Willyn sprung from behind the column, sending the jave rocketing out of her hand.
“GRIFT SHEPHERD, THIS ENDS NOW!”
Her projectile sliced through the air in a flash, but Grift was quick. Like a machine, he dove to the side, an evasive maneuver that cheated death at the last moment. The jave aimed at his throat instead clipped his right arm, sending a gushing spray of hot, red blood into the white moonlight.
Grift grabbed his wound only to look up to catch Willyn’s hot eyes burning, blue coals in the moonlight. Her last and final jave was pulled back for the kill.
Willyn’s arm exploded, sending her last shot with all the energy she could muster, but again Grift defied her as he slid into the darkness at the edge of the room. The second jave flashed above his ear as he dove, finding refuge in the shadows.
Willyn focused her eyes on the dark corner of the room like a predator. Suddenly, the sound of gunfire rang out and the feeling of bullets brushing past her made her hit the ground. Diving behind the large marble column, she pulled out her own pistol from its holster and volleyed shots back at her attacker, grinning when she saw her shot catch Grift’s arm.
“GIVE IT UP, SHEPHERD! SURRENDER NOW!”
The advantage was hers. He only had his weaker hand, and now Willyn knew she could bring him down. She turned out of her cover only to hear a waterfall of glass shattering.
No. He can’t be.
Leaving her cover, she ran past her comatose brother. She ran to a shattered window whose pieces lay before her, the night air whispering through her red, wavy hair. She spied down nearly five stories below her at a shadowy figure running in the alleyways far below.
She raised her pistol into the darkness, but it was too late. He was gone, made invisible even now in the full moon. There was no way to reach him. How a man could drop five stories and live to tell the tale made no sense to Willyn, but here she saw that it was possible.
With cold absolution she made a promise to herself and to her quarry:
“I am going to cut you down, Grift Shepherd, and I will not rest until I send a bullet through your brain.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The sound of a northern, winter wind whipped through the ragged canvas covering the back of an old medical convoy. It carried Kull far away from his burning home and sick mother, though closer, he hoped, to finding his father. Kull slid his fingers over the charm his mother had given him and closed his eyes, trying to imagine happier times. A bitter chill sliced through the dark truck bed, and Kull smiled and thanked Aleph for sending it as Adley pressed up against his side, huddling close to stay warm.
Her presence radiated untold comfort. In the shadows of the truck Kull felt safe enough to wrap his arm around her shoulders, to hold her to try to keep her warm. She made everything pass like a blur, making the bone-shivering trek to Vale seem like a privilege rather than a curse. The pain that had radiated in his wounded shoulder all but dissipated; a testament to Adley’s skill as a healer. Kull was grateful for the relief since the ride to Vale took five hours and covered rugged territory. Despite the frigid mountain air and Ewing’s blasphemous curses that came with each pot hole, Adley made all of it more bearable. She was a welcome distraction.
The truck slowed its pace, and Adley laid her head on Kull’s good shoulder, yawning, as she tried to get comfortable. Kull’s inner voice prodded him, his mother’s face flashing in his memory. Dad is gone. Stay focused.
The thought brought a twisted grimace to his face. He looked across the bay of the truck at Ewing lying on a cot. He had a glint in his eye.
“What?”
Ewing chuckled, “Well, you seem to be enjoying your ride.”
Kull rolled his eyes as a wide smirk grew on Ewing’s face. Ewing tapped at the blood donor card strapped to his arm and rolled over to his side, cursing under his breath, shuffling his battered stump of a leg over closer to him, causing a twinge of guilt to cut through Kull. The cost of this trip was a lie, and soon both he and Ewing would have to pay up. Kull tried to distract himself by whispering to Adley.
“How much farther do you think we have?”
Adley’s dark brown eyes fluttered open and she flashed a grin, “Why? Am I boring you?”
A rush of energy flushed over him.
“Um, no,” he said as he let out an awkward, nervous laugh. “I just was wondering how long we had until...well, you know.”
Until we leave each other. The words wanted to shoot out of his mouth like sparrows, but Kull held them inside.
“I know what, Kull?” Adley’s eyes stared at him, calm and collected, causing his whole body to flush with anxiety. She was too much for him. How can she be so composed? It had been so long since he had been this close to a girl, and never a girl as attractive as Adley. The thought of leaving her again made him ache with loss. How many more people will I lose? The thought dragged in his mind like a boulder.
“Know what, Kull?” Adley repeated as she smiled.
“Ah, nothing. You know, just enjoying the ride.”
“If you like the ride, wait till you see Vale.”
Adley chuckled and dropped her head back to Kull’s shoulder as he fought back the urge to slap himself for his stupidity. All of this was built on one glorious sham.
You’re an idiot. Using her to get a free ride!
Kull worked at rationalizing away his frustrations as they bounced along up the swinging mountain passes. Ewing is due for the leg augmentation. That much was true. Dread pooled into his stomach when he thought about how much his ticket would cost him. The memory of whispering to Adley quietly and quickly in the medical tent washed over him. It was the lie that had bought him his ride, “Adley, I’ve been accepted into the Academy. I just need a ride to Vale. I need to join the cause and help like you are. It’s the least I can do after what they did to my dad. I can’t fight a whole army to find him, but I can at least join our army and do my best to help out.”
It had been so simple. In a flash, Adley pulled some strings and ushered both of them on the caravan heading directly up to Vale. It was Ewing’s idea. At the time it seemed brilliant, but now Kull felt like an idiot for going along with it. All his life Kull dreamt of joining the Academy and making a new life for himself in the Royal City, but now he was about to turn his back on all of it and leave Adley just as soon as she found him.
A sour knot twisted in Kull’s stomach as he tried to bury his anxiety. If Adley was a true friend…or something more, then she would just have to forgive him. She was the last person he wanted to manipulate, but he was left with little choice. His father needed him, and his mother was counting on him to bring him back.
It was the last thought he had until he drifted off to sleep.
***
He drew in one quick breath and blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the high noon sun. The ancient city engulfed him in a feast of sounds and sights he had never experienced. Amid the roar of the thousands flooding the city streets, Kull’s eyes shot up at the dizzying heights of the massive stone towers soaring above him, piercing the sky. It was as if they had been carved out from the mountains, and they made him feel like an insect. Tall pinnacles stood proud, lining the wide promenades of the Royal City’s cobbled, pristine streets, each filled with thousands of people, living together, all on top of one another. The thought of that alone made Kull shudder. His eyes wandered from the towers to the strong white-capped mountains encircling the city, the Asban mountain range. They served Vale well, protecting it from foreign intrusion and threats, allowing the small country of Lotte to remain free from its neighbors for hundreds of years.
Kull grabbed his thin coat and drew it in as the crisp mountain air blew over him. He always wanted to come to Vale, but now that he was here he could hardly stomach the sight. The contrast that he felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced. All morning long he rode with the convoy of refugees on the rustic, wild roads of the Lottian countryside. It was a desolate landscape of ravaged ruins. Kull had learned the truth. Cotswold was not the only village destroyed by the Grogans. Town after town they passed through had met a similar fate, each destroyed by the fire of Grogan warships and rooks.
Yet here, in Vale, it was as if all of that was only a dream. Well-dressed children played ball games in the streets, laughing and yelling. Businessmen and merchants sat hunched over their datalinks buying and selling goods. Some sat leisurely at cafes eating fine foods, drinking, smiling. The city’s citizens scurried about the large promenades without a care in the world, babbling about the upcoming coronation ceremonies and dressed in the finest thick furs. They soon began to peer over at the refugees, whispering with one another and snickering, faces masked with a mixture of disgust and concern. Kull gritted his teeth at the sight of such naive opulence.
He reached back into the convoy and grabbed Ewing’s hand. He pulled him out into the cool mountain air. Ewing balance gingerly on a single crutch while Kull whispered, “Mark my words, Ewing. Aleph will curse this city.”
He was met with a growl. “And you, young lad, must keep your mouth shut. You are not in Cotswold, anymore. This city has ears, and you don’t know who might be listening.”
A horrible mixture of grief and rage rolled within him. He bit his tongue as the Valish residents gawked at them and the rest of the wounded that poured out into the street. Unable to contain it anymore, he continued, “But look at these people, Ewing! They have no concern for Cotswold, no concern for…”
“I lost a leg, boy, not my eyes!” snapped Ewing. “Now shut your trap.”
Kull swallowed his protests and let out a low grunt.
Ewing whispered to him, drawing him close as he teetered on his crutch. “You’ve got to learn to control that tongue, Shepherd. It’s no wonder your Pa didn’t send you to the Academy. They would have ground you to dust because of your attitude.”
Kull snapped back, “I don’t have an attitude, Ewing. I—”
“NOT another word. Not here, Kull.” Ewing stared into his eyes, “Follow my lead.” Kull nodded. His frustration with himself, with Ewing, and with this place continued its low boil as he felt the pious glances fall on him and the others. He had seen enough of Lotte’s capital city. Besides Adley, it held nothing for him.
Truckload after truckload pulled up and dumped out another crew of weary, injured passengers. In the streets, women snatched their children from their games and shut them in their houses as pockets of men stood dumbfounded and speechless at the sight. The reality of the war fell over the city with a hush.
A stout medic with a clipboard marched over to them, his eyes looking them over as his mouth drew up in a scowl.
Ewing quipped at him, “Is there a problem here, doc?”
The doctor did not acknowledge them, but went to the back of the truck.
Adley stood and greeted the doctor with a salute. The look on her face made it obvious this was a visit she was not looking forward to.
Oh no.
“Nurse Rainer, I told you only to deliver criticals. These two could have stayed back.”
Kull’s stomach dropped. The plan to get out of Lotte was already falling apart.
Adley gave a quick glance at them, as if Kull and Ewing meant nothing to her and coolly replied, “Actually, the old man is a decorated veteran. He lost that leg in the Grogan attack on Cotswold and is due his just compensation. Plus, the Major has a rare blood type and the banks were dry in Cotswold. You can pull his tag. He is two units low, and we weren’t going to let him bleed out.”
Kull swallowed hard. At least part of this grand lie was true. Ewing was low on blood, but he was as regular a blood type as Kull’s or any other random man off the street. The blood card they swiped from the medic’s tent was what persuaded Adley to join them in their charade, that and his lie of his acceptance into the Academy. It was all too much for her not to help them. Kull’s knees weakened as he watched Adley continue to defend them, even though she had no idea she had been strung along the whole time.
“Major Ewing’s companion was brought along because he was recently accepted into the Academy. He was eager to complete his enlisting to ensure he could aid in the defense and recovery efforts. You know we need all the help we can get.”
The doctor glared over old wire frame glasses back at Ewing and then began pouring over the long list of incoming Cotswoldians. “What is his name?” The question simmered with frustration.
In a huff of pride, Ewing hobbled over towards them, ridiculously bombast and comically animated for a man with one leg. “Arthur Ewing. Major Arthur Ewing. I am here for my new leg. As you see, I am currently without!”
There was a certain sick satisfaction that came with Ewing’s outlandish tactics. Kull did not know how he did it, but Arthur Ewing always got what he wanted. The military doctor threw up a quick salute.
“My apologies, Major. We’ve had so many come in from the towns and villages. It’s all a bit too much to handle, I’m afraid.”
“Excuses mean nothing to these people,” Ewing grumbled as he gestured to the masses of incoming refuges.
The lead medic said nothing but addressed Adley. “Take him to the hospital. I will personally see to it that the Major gets in the queue for his…compensation.” He turned to Ewing, “Major, I apologize, but we can’t secure you a ride back out to Cotswold after you are outfitted with your prosthetic. The Grogans have attacked our earlier supply lines, and we have no vehicles to spare.”
The man’s voice hardened as he shot a glance back to Adley.
“Once you get these few refugees squared away, take off for Tindler, okay? I still don’t know why you were sent to Cotswold.”
Adley blushed with embarrassment as she was chided and nodded her head. “Yes sir. I understand.”
Panic slowly untwisted from within Kull as a cautious relief grew inside of him. They actually made it to Vale and would not be sent away or arrested. Plus, the fact that Adley would have to head to Tindler gave him some room not to uncover his lies to her, after all.
Another doctor pointed to Kull, “What’s wrong with this kid?”
Adley replied sharply, “He wouldn’t leave the old man’s side. Said he was all he had. Plus, he was just accepted into the Academy.”
Adley shot a quick grin to Kull as the doctor rolled his eyes and turned back to the hospital.
“Alright, Kull, let’s get you two on your way.” Adley secured a wheelchair outside the hospital and went to assist E
wing. It was a visible relief for him to get off his crutch. Yet as soon as she began pushing him through the doors of the hospital, the wheelchair slammed to an abrupt halt. Ewing had pulled the brake, sending Adley to a stumble. The charade was over. Kull groaned, wishing the old man had at least waited until Adley left them so he didn’t have to reveal their real reason for coming into Vale.
Adley let out an unexpected laugh, “Ewing, what are you doing?” She reached to release the wheels. “We need to get you fitted for your new leg right now. Quit fooling around.”
“I’m afraid that now is not the time for that, my dear young lady. Kull and I have something more pressing to attend to. Something much more important than some fancy leg.”
Adley’s hands fell off the wheelchair. “What?”
Ewing continued his monologue, unaware of Adley’s question. “Now if you don’t mind, wheel me around the other way please.”
“What are you talking about? You’re here for the prosthetic and two units of blood, Ewing! I don’t know what you are trying to pull, but I already stretched things to get you here.” She sent a quick glare over to Kull. “To get you both here. Now, like it or not, we are going to get you fitted.”
“Ms. Rainer, now I knew your father while we served in the...”
“Ewing, please...”
Kull broke his silence, laying his hand on Adley’s shoulder as he reached to unlock the brake on Ewing’s chair.
