by Casey Eanes
“I did not come this far to die,” he whispered to himself. Briefly, hope flared up within him like a single match light. It burned brightly for a time, but as the sun set in the horizon, it was swallowed in a sea of darkness. Kull hung his head, allowing it to go limp against the chains that held him in place.
Death, it seemed, would be his only escape.
***
Seam sat in silence in the helicopter that was taking him and his final trophy back to Zenith. He twisted the final Key of Candor between his fingers. After months of frustration, the dagger-key of Riht was finally his. Grift Shepherd had done an admirable job of keeping it from him. Seam chuckled when he thought of a punishment worthy of his adversary. His eyes flitted across his prize. The Key’s edges were razor-sharp, crafted from shiny black obsidian. Out of all of the keys, this was his favorite.
He unbuckled his restraints and slipped to the pilot’s chamber.
“Captain. How much longer?”
“We will be hitting the tarmac in less than half an hour. From there we have set up a faster air transport to Zenith. You should touch down on target no later than midday.”
“Very good. Make sure that there are no delays in transfer. Ah, and captain, any word on the captives' transport?”
“Yes, sir. They were loaded only a half hour behind our departure. They should be landing an hour or less after we do.”
Seam smiled and patted the pilot on the shoulder. “Thank you, captain. Please make sure that they use the utmost caution. We are transporting some very dangerous individuals.”
“Yes, sir. I will link with them now to check.”
Seam slinked back into his seat and slid back his sleeve to examine his bracer. His fingers trembled with anticipation as he slid the dagger Key into the final, empty slot. The key dutifully clicked into place, just like its brethren, and completed the collection that had been separated for so very long.
Unsure if it was only adrenaline or something supernatural, Seam could feel a raw energy coursing through him. His muscles tightened and his body tensed. He felt powerful. Imagination or not, Seam knew exactly the power he had unlocked, his pulse quickened with the thoughts of a destiny that were now his.
***
The thumping sound of the helicopter’s motor was comforting. It had a similar rumble to that of a rook, and it made Willyn feel at home. Despite her shattered hand and shackled arms, she allowed herself to disappear within the droning hum of machinery. Either she was in shock or her body was simply exhausted of sending tendrils of pain to her brain, but Willyn’s hand had long stopped hurting, and she was able to plan her next moves. The important thing was she could think.
The cabin she was in was dark, but she could make out the slouched figure in front of her. Grift. The attacking party had been so much harder on him. Maybe they felt bad attacking her because she was female. Fools, she thought. Grift hadn’t moved since they pulled the two out from Luken’s boat, and this fact alone was worrying her.
As her eyes examined the broken figure of Grift, her thoughts trailed back to Luken. A choking pain swept over her at the thought of the grenade exploding and ripping through him. He is dead, Gods above. The thought of Luken burned alive and sinking into the Endless Ocean flashed in her mind, and she fought back the emotions that came over her in the dark. He had been a most unexpected ally. He could have been something more. It felt wrong to think it, but it was true. And now he was gone. Dead. Willyn saw what happened. As much as she wanted to hold onto some foolish shred of hope, no one could have survived that.
Rest now, dear friend.
She pushed away the excruciating image of Luken’s lifeless body drifting in the ocean waves and forced her mind back into the present. Her only restraint was a basic hand lock that was tethered to the helicopter’s floor. She let out a small laugh and glanced around the dark cabin. It was empty other than Grift, which suited her perfectly. It was another foolish mistake by her captors.
She dislocated her thumb and slid her good hand out from one of the shackles. She was free, as easily as she had been trained in the Grogan military school. She was never more grateful to have had someone break both of her thumbs as a young girl than she was in that moment. She slid her hand back into the hand lock, content that at least one thing was working in her favor. No need to waste that advantage now. When the time was right she could free herself again within seconds.
She slid her foot out and kicked Grift. He lay motionless on the floor in a heap. As she kicked him, he raised a single eye to her, and with a low, defeated voice grumbled.
“What?”
“I can get out of these bindings. We have to escape.” It was not a suggestion.
Grift let out a series of horrible coughs. He spat blood on the floor. His voice could just be heard over the engines of the helicopter.
“There is no escaping now, Willyn. Seam holds all the Keys of Candor.” Grift closed his eyes, revealing their black and bruised landscape. “Our only hope is to remain with this party, wherever they are going, and wait for one last attack. Save our strength.”
“How can you be sure we will be in the High King’s detail?” Willyn asked with an earnest voice.
“Trust me, if we are the prisoners of Seam Pandarean, we will have to be publically humiliated, judged, and executed in his presence. His ego will stand for nothing less. His pride will not allow another option.” A dark determination fell on Grift’s face. “I know my enemy, and I know him well. It will be our last stand.” His eyes locked with Willyn’s, his voice filling with regret. “I wish we had not been enemies for so long, but I’m glad Aleph saw to it to reveal the truth to both of us.”
Willyn’s mind conjured up the journey she had faced. The death she caused and the death she had seen. Again, Luken’s body floated in the Endless Ocean of her mind. “Why do you bring religion into this, Grift? If there ever was a god who worked wonders on Candor, he has lost interest in us long ago. Try telling Luken that Aleph is watching over us.”
Grift nodded, but weighed his words. “I agree. It certainly feels like that is true.” He let out another string of violent hacks and wheezes. “But right now, Aleph is my only hope against such darkness. The evil coming is not like that of war, famine, or corruption. It is something different entirely. The Serubs will butcher our world like a calf set for slaughter, and all its inhabitants with it.” His bloodshot eyes pierced through the darkness, locking on hers. “That is, unless Aleph intervenes.”
Willyn said nothing, her lips remained pursed. She was no theologian, nor was she a devout believer in anything religious.
“Well then, if what you say is true, then I guess we have no choice but to wait.”
Grift nodded. “Wait and hope. We must make our stand. You will know when it is time.”
Willyn nodded.
The rest of the journey was spent in silence.
***
Kull watched as shadows slid across the floor. They grew longer with each passing hour and extended like long, black fingers from the two mirrors that stood across the metal floor. A sacrifice. The realization still made his throat dry and his mind cloud with fear.
The room’s silence was finally disturbed by the sound of the door sliding open. The guards shuffled, and Kull could overhear them questioning the new entrant.
“State name, assignment, and clearance level.”
The short, bold answer stabbed a saber of shock through Kull.
“Adley Raynor of Lotte. Royal medic. Level silver seven.”
Aleph above. Adley? Here?! Kull’s fears of the Serubs and of Seam vanished like fog in dawn’s light. He nearly screamed with relief to hear Adley’s voice and had to will himself not to call out to her.
“Afraid this area is restricted. Come back when you have the right credentials,” the guard snapped. This lot was smug, enjoying all the authority bestowed on them in protecting the King’s precious Spire.
A moment of silence passed before a new voice cut in, �
�You will allow her to advance, and you will stand down. That is an order. She is here on command of the High King.”
The guard stammered, “Commander Donahue. My apologies. But no one said anything about her coming.”
Adley fired back, “Your business, I would assume, is to guard, not to know everyone’s itinerary. Now, I have a cart of meds for these prisoners. I was instructed to ensure their vitals held until the King returned. You can scan if you want, but don’t touch anything. I have direct orders. Thank you, Bronson, for making sure I was cleared. I will hurry.”
The man’s voice was short, “Be quick. The King wants no time wasted. Report back to me when you are finished so I can report. I will be tending to the convoys.”
Kull could hear shuffling feet and a few grumbles as the guards examined the contents of Adley’s cart. Her footsteps clicked against the cold metal floor. The steps stopped, and Kull strained his neck to try and catch a glimpse. She’s checking on Wael.
“Gods! How long has this man been like this?” Her voice was laced with horror.
The guard shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. Since we brought him in.”
Kull heard Adley’s voice raise with panic. “That does not answer my question! I asked how long?”
Kull’s heart sunk to his stomach. What did they do to Wael?
“Pipe down,” grunted the brute. “Eh, it’s been about five hours.” The guard’s voice fell into an awkward excuse. “Shouldn't matter. He is still alive and where the King wants him.”
Adley stamped over near the guards. Kull could see her in his mind’s eye, her eyes blazing with contempt. “Of course it matters! These men are to be alive when the High King arrives. This one is on the edge of death. They are no good dead!”
Kull tried to process what he just heard. This was a major disconnect from what he expected. What did she say? Is she somehow a part of this? How could she speak about us like this?
Kull could hear Adley pulling supplies from the cart. She addressed the guards again and the anger had not receded from her voice, “I will be giving them a few shots to ensure their vitals stabilize. I hope for your sakes that it is enough to keep them alive until it is time for them to die.”
“Do what you have to, medic. We’re not worried.” The other guard chuckled in agreement.
Kull could hear Adley whisper, “You should be.”
Adley labored over Wael for several minutes and afterwards Kull’s heart jumped at the weak voice that simply told her, “Thank you.” The voice was thin and strained, but the voice was undeniably Wael’s. Just knowing he was still alive caused a glimmer of hope to pulse through Kull’s veins, but the hope was tempered by the thought of his old friend supporting Seam’s insanity.
A thousand thoughts ricocheted in Kull’s mind. How could Adley, of all people, follow and join Seam’s order? What had happened to her?
After several minutes she was standing over him. Kull dared to look up at her face. Her long brown hair was pulled back, and she wore a black and gold uniform. Kull flashed a broken smile, but Adley showed no signs of recognition. No signs of friendship. It made Kull sick to his stomach, and he wanted to look away from her, his heart filled with shame. Shame for himself and for her. Something shifted between them, and he wondered if it could ever be repaired. Kull felt guilt as he wondered if he and Ewing’s lies had partially driven her to follow Seam’s leadership. Her face was still vacant as she filled a large syringe and held it in her hand.
She stepped close to him and looked him over from head to toe. Kull winced as she touched him, taking his pulse at his neck. Say something, he thought to himself. You must say something. Tears welled in his eyes as she reached down and drove the shot into his neck. He yelped as she pushed the plunger down, the burning liquid rushing under his skin. His neck locked up, and it felt as if his entire body would go into convulsions. He could feel the injection explode down his neck and fall deep into his shoulders.
“Argh. What are you doing?”
Kull shuddered under the pain. With his one good eye, he looked at her. Adley slapped him across the face and injected another shot into his shoulder.
“Shut your mouth. I don’t answer to you," she said.
The guards chuckled and talked beneath their breath to one another as she reached for his arm to check his pulse. As her hand fell on his wrist he felt her slip something into his palm. She then turned back to the cart and picked up an ophthalmoscope. She peeled open Kull’s swollen eye and peered in. As he growled in pain she whispered to him.
“Get out. Back of the Spire. A transport is waiting.” Kull looked into her eyes, which softened with concern.
Kull smiled and whispered back, “Told you I wouldn’t get myself killed.”
“Fine job you’re doing of that.”
She stepped away from Kull to address the guards, “Well, this is all I can do for these two. I hope for your sakes that the King is not upset with their pitiful state when he is ready for them.”
As quickly as she entered, Adley exited the room and left Kull behind. The pain searing down his neck quickly faded and gave way to comfort and a renewed strength. He could feel his body being rejuvenated by whatever torturous concoction Adley injected into him. His fingers fumbled around the object she gave him. A lock pick. The serum continued to work within him, and he felt his hands steady to the point that he was able to begin working at the bindings.
A silent prayer bloomed in Kull’s mind as his hands struggled with the lock. He had never unlocked anything without a key in his life, and here he was in a place where everything depended on the next few moments.
Aleph above. Please, help me.
Kull threaded the pick into the open lock. I haven’t asked you for much, but I need you now. I’ve needed you this whole time.
He held the pick with his thumbs, and bit on the small metal wire, plunging it deeper into the lock. He could feel it pressing against the springing pins. Fear began to set in. Even if I get my bindings unlocked, what will I do? What can I do?
He closed his eyes and forced himself to breath. All of this is just so hopeless. I...I don’t know what to do.
Suddenly the door opened behind him. He let out one last sigh and pressed in on the pick as one last prayer left his lips.
Click.
The bindings around his wrists popped free. A patrol of many footsteps approached outside the room, and Kull felt like his heart might beat a hole in his chest. There was hope. He was nearly free. His mind filled with thoughts of what to do next, knowing his hands were unbound. He could feel the guards shuffling in the room, and could feel their tension and silence. The King is coming. Kull knew that whatever fate awaited him it came alongside Seam Pandarean. His chest tightened as he fought to keep his composure, until he thought back to one of his many sparring lessons with his father.
“Don’t always take the first shot. Wait for the right opening. A hasty choice may very well be your last.”
Wait for the right opening. Patience was his answer. Kull knew that his only opportunity was to wait for the right opening to present itself.
“Long live the King!” The guards chanted.
Seam’s voice rolled out like a victorious banner, “At ease, men. How are the prisoners faring?”
“Still alive. We await your orders, sir.”
Kull took a deep breath, his hands trembling. He waited and listened, trying to get a sense of who entered into the room, how many he would have to deal with. Kull had been thankful to have his back to the room as he picked the lock, but now everything was a guessing game as he tried to determine how many guards he might have to face.
Seam spoke with an elated voice, “I have brought the remaining fugitives with me. They will stand on trial for the crimes they have committed in Candor. Bind them to their places. Now!”
Kull heard the shuffling of chains being moved. To his right, he caught a glimpse of the girl who attacked Cotswold, the red-haired warrior who captured his father. The gu
ards forced her to her knees and locked her hands to the floor. She looked over at him, but showed no sign of acknowledgement. She seemed almost amused, and it was clear her mind was occupied.
Then Kull looked to his left as another prisoner was locked to the floor. His mind froze when he registered the face. It was his father. In an instant, Kull’s whole body was shaking with a storm of emotions. Tears stung his eyes as he saw him, broken and bound.
“Dad.” Kull could not contain himself anymore.
Grift looked up. Shock and fear ignited over his face, as he stammered. “Kull...I…I, I didn’t know...I.”
