by J. McSpadden
It wasn't the time to dive into their past, as much as she felt the sudden urge to do so, which also felt peculiar and strange. Theo's fingers brushed against the edge of her hand, and he took a step over a large rock, extending a hand to help her over the protruding barrier on their path. It wasn't needed, she could manage on her own, but she accepted the fingers stretched out before her and grasped hold. Their eyes connected and they paused for a mere moment, taking in each other's features and drinking in the single moment of silence together.
"I won't let anything happen to you, Camille. I'll always protect you."
"Always is a very long time, Theodore," Camille replied, softly jesting but also desperately needing a way to focus on him and not her sudden desire to break apart into tears of fear and worry.
He smiled at her use of his full name, pulled her close to his chest and kissed her temple gently. "There will never be enough time for me when it comes to being with you, my love."
She smiled then, words failing her as a blossoming warmth turned into a roaring fire within her chest.
"Let's go," he said with finality, obviously pained to have to pull away, but focused with clear intent on getting her to safety and as far away from the battle as possible.
Camille wasn't sure what to expect as Theo led her through the darkened cave entrance and out across the damp grassy plateau of the mountainside. The open fields below their perch were crawling with Chimera, Rogues, and Equestrians—hundreds dead but still hundreds more engaged in battle.
"That looks promising," Theo said, placing both hands on the weapons at his sides.
The sharp, chilly air bit into the lining of Camille's nose as she tried to take in what they were about to do next. The village was blazing with the hungry lick of fire, and as they watched the flames dance in eerie grace, the wailing cry of the warning alarm sounded. The fuses had been set, and they had fifteen minutes to escape the grounds. The Rogues would begin their mass exodus as well, and, hopefully, everyone would make it to safety before Romeo Village was no more.
"We need to get out of here," Theo said, shifting his weight and readying to go.
"Wait," Camille said, grasping his wrist, "look, over there!"
In the center of the village square where the fire remained, Metus was directing an Equestrian who led a line of shackled prisoners behind him. Even from a distance, she knew it was Metus with his perfectly groomed blonde hair and starkly clean uniform.
Theo shook his head ardently. "That's the last place we're going, Cam. We have fourteen minutes tops before the entire village goes up in flames. Absolutely not!"
"We can't just leave them to die! Those are Rogues, yes?" Camille stood her ground, unwilling to accept the fact that any man would die because of her sudden appearance at Romeo. Her presence may not be the reason for the battle, but neither had it slowed down the quick precession of the High King's army.
Her words of compassion didn't seem to have any effect on Theo, who continued to edge in the opposite direction, away from the pandemonium of the battlefield.
"I can't let them die," Camille said with determination, breaking away from Theo and Neeko.
Theo pursued her, grasping her at the elbow with such harshness that she flinched. "What are you doing?" She barked out at him.
He flinched at her tone, but only slightly. "There's nothing you can do Cam. Please, stop!" The pleading panic swimming in his eyes did nothing to change her mind.
"They have no way to survive Theo, I have to help them."
"We're out of time, we have to leave. Now!"
"No," she said softly, her mind flashing with memories of those she'd killed in Charlie Town. Too many had died at the edge of her sword. She needed to know that she could save them, even if it meant dying alongside them if she to failed.
"I won't let them die. Not like this. And definitely not alone." She yanked her dagger free of its holster and carefully made her way down the rocky cliff side to the village square, not looking back to see if Theo followed.
Chapter Seventeen
Destruction of the Underground
"Success?"
Vesyon squinted through a single scrunched eye to see Phillip towering over him, covered in black Chimera blood. Sweat streamed down either side of Phillip's reddened, dirt-streaked face but it was the large puncture wound on his left upper arm that caught Vesyon's attention.
He lurched upwards in the muddied grass—he hadn't collided with the door, as Phillip had been opening it in that very same moment. Which meant—
"Close the door!" Vesyon yelled, gesturing at the Chimera barreling down the corridor about to descend.
Phillip slammed it shut just in time, sealing the beasts in as they yipped and growled on the other side.
"How the hell did you make it out?" Phillip gasped, seeming to struggle for each breath. Vesyon eyed the General warily, taking in every facet of Phillip's complexion and dilated pupils. Despite the darkened sky and dimly lit surroundings, Vesyon could see the penetrating symptoms of Chimera poisoning already taking hold within him.
"The fuses are set," Vesyon said quietly. "We have ten minutes to get out of here."
"Yes, we heard the alarm. We need to get the remaining men out; there's something else out there," Phillip said, swallowing loudly and beginning to wheeze.
Vesyon nodded; the floral scent he'd smelled before floated back through his senses. It was something he'd never encountered, not in battle. Every fiber in his Praetorian being screamed with worry as he pressed through the tree line, making his way beside Phillip back toward their men. With every footstep, every motion pushing him forward, Vesyon began to accept the inevitability of the evening. They were going to lose far more than what they'd bargained for. He wasn't sure now that it had been worth it.
His eyes shifted back toward the town square as the weight of reality began to set in. He had lost so much in his fight against the kingdom—family, friends, loved ones—but he kept pushing forward because he knew his goal would eat away at him until he reached it. More than anything in the world, he wanted to return to his home in White Wall, but he'd lose much more in the months to come for that to become a possibility. Vesyon glanced over at the puce tone of Phillip's skin and forced his emotions down. They both knew Phillip had only hours.
Cannon fire flew in every direction, reaching deafening heights as they pressed on through the snow-slicked grassy knolls. The wind whipped against their faces in a constant mist, sending the chill of their surroundings straight down to their bones. Phillip dodged and swayed, hammering at any Equestrian who stood in his way, but he was quickly losing the battle of remaining conscious.
"You need treatment!" Vesyon cried over the din.
"What for?" Phillip retorted, completely ignoring the suggestion. Turning his body away from an oncoming blast of shrapnel, Phillip groaned as he moved, every motion an obvious task to accomplish. "Most of the men Metus brought with him are standing guard at the perimeter. You can't go north or west as planned; you'll need to double back south and get to White Wall that way."
Vesyon blanched, noticing Phillip's use of you instead of we. "South? Are you sure that's a good idea?" He would have to ride through the open grasslands along the barrier wall of Dwaa without hope of cover before crossing over the Syene River. It wasn't an option Vesyon felt comfortable with, but he had little choice left.
"There's no other way," Phillip said. "Camille and Theo haven't been spotted yet, and you and my men can't wait any longer. You will have to regroup with them in White Wall."
"Can't we just—"
"Incoming!" Phillip screamed as the line broke and seven Chimera hurdled toward them.
The ground was almost impossible to traverse with muddied grass and puddles of gore. Vesyon slipped as a Chimera stormed close, snarling with deadly intention. Phillip jumped in front of Vesyon, and the beast's jaw snapped down with ferocity on his upper arm.
The General's scream sang through the air like an arrow loosed
, and time seemed to stop as the Chimera's teeth dug hungrily into Phillip's flesh. Vesyon barely caught him as he slumped headfirst toward the ground but managed to crook his arm under his chest in time to keep Phillip on his feet.
Charlie charged forward out of nowhere, a battle cry escaping her blood-slicked lips. Her matted brown hair flew out behind her like an incoming flag of protection. With a swift yank of her sword, she sliced the Chimera's head clean off, spraying everyone with blood and bone.
With her face screwed up and mouth wide in a silent scream, she hacked away at the unmoving carcass. She didn't stop until the Chimera that had attacked her father was obliterated—a pile of fur and organs at her feet. Vesyon pushed up from the ground as he slid Phillip over to his side and Charlie rushed toward them.
"Is he ok?"
"He's breathing," Vesyon replied, their eyes meeting for a moment to convey the truth of what he meant. He's breathing—for now.
She blanched, set her jaw in understanding, and leaned over him, checking the heat of his skin and color of his eyes as though he wasn’t as bad as he appeared to be. In watching her reaction, Vesyon was unable to miss several distant Chimera leaning over their fallen brethren—as Charlie was doing with Phillip.
"Are they mourning?" he asked aloud to himself, narrowing his eyes in bewildered shock. More than once during the battle, he'd seen the creatures express emotion in an unnerving way. The beasts hadn't just returned in full force from the original outbreak—they were evolving.
As Vesyon helped Phillip to his feet beside Charlie, he was immediately assaulted by a floral bouquet so intense he nearly gagged. He looked across the flat expanse of trampled grass and weeds to see a strikingly tall woman dressed from her neckline to the tops of her boots in thick red leather. Her raven hair was yanked back in a cluster of braids, and her smooth, olive skin seemed to glow against the bloated black clouds overhead. Her red leather chest protector was clamped securely in place and decorated with shiny gold buckles that winked like flickering fire as she moved. She wasn't scowling or nervous—no, her complexion was smooth, her lips relaxed, her seemingly crystalline blue eyes bright with the ease of a veteran warrior.
Vesyon surged forward, his sword raised high, angling toward her face. Instead of meeting his blade with one of her own, the woman pointed a short black cylinder at him, and a line of Chimera charged his direction, their fallen companions no longer their concern.
The woman reached down and lifted Charlie by the neck, bringing them face-to-face. Vesyon couldn't hear what the woman said to her as he fought off the group of Chimera, but after several seconds the woman in red tossed Charlie aside like a rag doll, no longer wanting to touch the girl or waste a second to rip the life out of her chest.
The woman's icy eyes scanned the battleground until they landed on Vesyon. She moved with steady purpose, the Chimera remaining stoic at her sides like harmless puppies. She stopped just out of reach of his sword, holding the black cylinder sparking with sinister intent.
"Where is she, Praetorian?"
Vesyon rose to his full height, only an inch over hers. "Who?" The single word expelled from his chest on a heavy exhalation of air. He wasn't exhausted, but he felt a weariness deep in his bones that made it difficult to breathe.
She snarled, her eyes flitting from icy blue to a deep vivid red. "Don't play with me, Vesyon. You know who we came here for."
He winced as his name flowed from her perfectly painted lips. Who was she—or more appropriately, what was she? The floral scent was overpowering with her closeness, mixed with something feral and purely animalistic. She wasn't an Asperian, though neither was she a Praetorian. He was staring into the eyes of LeMarc's future, and he shuddered at the realization.
"Where. Is. Camille?" she demanded, surging toward him with a hand to his neck. She slammed him into the muck. She wasn't just sturdy; she was a formidable force he had no chance of stopping. She touched the black cylinder to his chest, and he was paralyzed as jolts of electricity raced through his entire body.
"Pathetic," the woman said venomously when she removed the cylinder and Vesyon collapsed into the squish of mud at his back. "It's no wonder the High King exiled you. He needs someone more substantial by his side, and you obviously aren't capable of fulfilling his needs like I am."
White spots rained before his eyes as he blinked through the dizziness. "Night Rave?" Vesyon whispered, his mind barely able to grasp what his Praetorian senses had already confirmed.
"Yes," she replied with a withering red glare before turning on her heel toward the village square, "but more importantly: your replacement."
Vesyon scrambled unsteadily to his feet, but the woman was already gone. He needed to find Camille before she did.
Nearby Charlie was crawling through the mud to her father, mumbling empty words of blind hope as she fumbled through her pocket with manic persistence. Finding what she was searching for, she ripped off the protective seal and jammed the sharpened end of their antidote packs into Phillip's bared chest. It wouldn't stop the transformation, or remove the venom coursing through Phillip's body, but it would give them a few minutes of borrowed time to say their last words of goodbye.
"Let's get him out of here," Vesyon said thickly around the massive lump of fear lodged deep in his throat. Glancing toward the now-crumbling village square, he searched for the woman in red to be sure she was heading toward the center of destruction. They had precious minutes left until the compound would collapse upon itself; it wasn't a time to dally.
He found the Night Rave walking along the outer wall on the east side of the grounds, and managed a small smile knowing the comfort of what she was about to endure. His stomach then suddenly dropped like a lead ball, a fearful groan escaping his throat unlike anything he'd ever heard before.
He watched the spark of red hair duck in and out of the shadows, and then lean over a line of shackled Rogues. Even with her face hidden away from his line of sight, he knew it was her; could see it in the gentle slope of her shoulders and delicate long-fingered hands. Camille had made it out of the compound, he thought with a flood of relief, but this was quickly followed with the hollowed dread of where she was, and what was about to happen.
He raced toward her, boots trampling through the snow and mud without regard of himself or his surroundings. Chimera and Equestrians seemed to melt from his vision as he focused entirely on the spark and sizzle of her hair, the surrounding flames roaring with a warning. He had to get to her, had to pull her away from the structures he knew would crumble and melt like butter beneath her feet.
"Camille!" Vesyon yelled, but there was no way she could hear him—no way he could help her escape the fate that fast approached.
Don't lose her, my sweet girl, she is the only thing I have left in this world. He heard the soft, gentle voice of Jesabelle whisper in his ear as time around him slowed down. His legs felt like lead in his boots, but he kept moving, hoping, begging to any of the gods that would listen to him: please don't let her die. The clangor of swords and boom of cannon melted away, the shouts of battle became a droning hum in the background. His eyes remained glued on Camille's hunched form.
"I won't lose her, my love; I will protect her with every last fiber of my being," Vesyon said, repeating his final promise to Jesabelle like a prayer. He wouldn't let anything happen to Camille, not today. He was already losing Phillip and had lost the love of his life years ago; he wasn't going to let Camille slip out of his grasp—he couldn't.
"No!" he bellowed as the first rumbling explosion shook the ground beneath his feet. Tears unknowingly streamed down his cheeks, but it was far too late to stop the trajectory of his plan.
***
"Cam, we've gotta go!" Theo bellowed over the turmoil in the square. The fire was moving closer, the hungry mouth of flames like a groaning monster consuming everything in its path.
"Go then!" she shot back. "I won't let these soldiers die for no reason. I will save them, damn it!"
&nb
sp; Camille gripped one of the soldier's wrists and inspected his shackles: just like the rest of them, they were rusted shut. As much as she tried, she couldn't rip them apart with her bare hands.
The men were urging her to leave them, too—all of them Rogues, willing to die in exchange for her safety. It was heartbreaking to see the terror in their eyes as they urged her to run, begged her to leave them behind in their chains.
"It's okay, Camille—we know who you are, we've heard the stories," the young man before her said. "We're willing to die for what you started."
His wide blue eyes and scruffy blonde hair reminded her of Lunci, and she ached to brush it out of his face the way she'd done for Lunci so many times before. His gentle words stabbed at her heart, penetrating to the depths of her soul. It was her fault. These men fought for a cause she'd unknowingly started, a moment that she barely remembered. A day that would haunt her for days and years to come.
Camille grabbed the iron peg keeping the soldier attached to the wall and yanked on it with everything she had. Her fingers screamed for mercy, but she clung to the metal with fierce determination. With a final cry, Camille managed to wrench it from the stone with a satisfying clunk. She whipped around to face Theo, grinning victoriously. She could do this, she could rip them all free, and they could run as one unit. "I won't let you die, not like this. Do you hear me?"
"O-okay," said the Rogue, his expression transforming from the grim acceptance of death to one of renewed hope.
She began to tear at the pegs lining the stone wall, yanking on the chains with everything she had until they broke free. Theo started at the opposite end, while Neeko stood guard, his jaguar eyes on the watch for incoming attacks. Camille reached the final peg and pulled, her hands now bleeding from the effort, blackened smoke filling her lungs and threatening to suffocate her. The last one held fast, drilled so deep into the stone wall that she could barely keep her grip.
"It won't budge," she cried, tears flowing freely down her cheeks in sudden panic, "I can't, it's not moving!"
