Sepia Blue-Sisters: A Sepia Blue Thriller

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  Reed’s face grew red and he looked down.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “Let me help get it back.”

  “I’m going to have to explain to her that it was stolen and I don’t know where it is or who currently has it,” Gan said. “A named blade—a dark named blade, Reed.”

  It was Gan who looked away this time.

  “I’m sure I can track it,” Reed said. “I just need time.”

  “There are things going on here that you don’t understand,” Gan said and stood up. “Wait here. Unless you would like to explain how her sword was stolen?”

  “No, thank you, sir,” Reed said quickly.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  Gan reached over and pressed on the handcuffs, unlocking them.

  “Thank you, sir,” Reed said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Gan said. “You will have to confront her at some point.”

  “Confront her?” Reed asked.

  Gan gave a quick nod. “Yes, and she is going to be extremely displeased.”

  Gan headed back to the room and walked by the other two beds. Calisto lay in one, sleeping peacefully, most of her body bandaged. In the other lay Wake, also sleeping. He stepped over to the side of Sepia’s bed and pulled up a chair.

  “What were you doing in the park, blueberry—without your sword?”

  Sepia looked away. “I know it was stupid, but I had to show them I could do it,” she said. “We were looking for the rift.”

  “Who gave this order?”

  “Anna said it was a way of stopping the Unholy,” Sepia answered. “She sent me and two others, Bernice and Wake, to find the location. It was supposed to be a scouting mission—no active engagement.”

  “In the park, just the three of you?”

  “Yes, we were just supposed to find the location of the rift and report back.”

  He clenched his jaw briefly before he continued.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Bear dropped us at the Keep,” she said. “We had a stowaway—Jasmine Desant, who managed to sneak on the copter somehow.”

  “Desant, as in the Hunter Desant?”

  Sepia nodded. “Same family except Jas—Jasmine didn’t make Hunter,” Sepia said. “She’s a technocrat, very good with machines, or something like that. Family gave her up.”

  “It happens,” Gan said. “How did you find yourself in the park if you were in the Keep?”

  Sepia hesitated and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

  “Tell me,” he said. “All of it.”

  “First it was the Dreadwolves,” she said. “Fang was leading the group and they weren’t happy to see me.”

  “You defeated Chimera, so every Unholy in the entire park would like a piece of you,” he said.

  Anna knows this, he thought.

  “We persuaded them to leave and then your wife showed up,” Sepia said. “I thought she was dead?”

  “I never said she was dead,” Gan answered. “Did you tell her I said she was dead?”

  Sepia nodded.

  “Wonderful, I won’t hear the end of that,” he said. “I told you she sacrificed herself for us.”

  “Like that doesn’t sound dead, sure,” she answered.

  “So you found yourself outside the safety of the Keep wards, how?”

  “I looked into the park to see if I could track the location of the rift.”

  “You did what?” Gan said, angry. “Who told you to do this?”

  “Calisto said to use my sight,” Sepia said. “I guessed she meant to use my eye.”

  “Goddammit, you aren’t trained to use that thing,” Gan said. “All that was going to do is get their attention.”

  “A behemoth crossed the Keep wards like they didn’t exist,” she said. “Said I called him. Is that possible?”

  Gan rubbed his face. “Yes, it’s possible,” he said reluctantly. “You tried to take on a behemoth alone?”

  “It didn’t give me a choice.”

  “How about running into the Keep?”

  “Would those walls stop a behemoth?” she said. “Besides, it was too late at that point. It hit first and asked questions later.”

  “You shouldn’t have been in the park at all,” Gan said after a few moments. “What was Anna thinking?”

  “I think she wanted to see if I could function without Perdition,” she said. “I gave her a hard time about making me give it up.”

  “You weren’t supposed to give it up,” Gan said slowly. “You were supposed to have it suppressed within.”

  “Excuse me?” Sepia said, becoming angry. “They told me I couldn’t keep it because it would kill me.”

  “Anna has a flair for the dramatic,” he said. “She told me about your ‘conversation’ regarding keeping it. I told her I would take it.”

  “A Gray agent came to pick it up,” Sepia said. “One of yours?”

  Gan nodded. “You met him, the one in the handcuffs,” he said. “He was brought here by accident.”

  “Wait, how did you find me?” she asked. “I was in the middle of the park in some chamber over the rift.”

  “Yes…about that,” he said. “Do you remember what happened in that chamber?”

  “I was over the rift, and then there was this being or entity,” she said as she remembered. “Said it powered the Unholy. I had my warded knife.”

  “And you attacked,” Gan said. “The sentient representation of Unholy power. You attacked it with your warded knife.”

  “If I had my sword, I probably could have done something,” she replied. “I don’t remember anything after that. Where is my sword?”

  “Before we get to that, do you feel anything strange?” Gan asked. “Anything out of the ordinary?”

  “No, where is my sword, Gan?” she answered, her voice tense. “What is going on?”

  Gan reached out and took her hand in his own. His callused palm, rough from years of training, gently held her hand.

  “Blueberry, you should be dead,” Gan said. “No Hunter or Sister has been able to get that close to the rift without being overcome and killed by that entity.”

  “It attacked them?” she asked.

  “No, just the proximity to that much power was enough to undo them,” Gan whispered. “It was similar to accelerated radiation poisoning.”

  Sepia looked away, remaining silent.

  “Is that why she did it?” she asked. “Is that why Anna sent me into the park—to see if I was Unholy?”

  “I don’t know why she did it,” Gan said. “But I will find out.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Ursa found me and brought me to Calisto,” he said. “I didn’t think he could port that far from the park. By the time I got there, it was just you, Calisto and that Sister over there.”

  “Ursa brought you?” she asked. “But we were in the park.”

  “Blueberry, we are in the Keep,” Gan said. “We haven’t left the park.”

  “The Keep?” she asked, looking around. “No.”

  Gan nodded. “Calisto can’t be taken out of the park, she’s tethered to it until the blood ward is undone,” he said. “She was in critical condition and the Sister there was poisoned by a Dreadwolf bite. We didn’t have many options.”

  “We can’t stay here,” she said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  She tried to get up, but Gan pushed her gently back into the bed.

  “Be still,” he said. “I have Gray all around the Keep, my best agents.”

  “Where’s Ursa?” she asked.

  “He disappeared after he ported me and Reed,” Gan said. “Can’t believe how strong he is and he’s not even fully grown.”

  “What about the entity?” she asked. “You couldn’t have missed it.”

  “By the time we arrived, there was no entity and you were glowing like a hot coal,” he said. “I thought you were gone.”

  He squeezed her hand and gave her a tight smile, which she retu
rned.

  “I know you about as well as you know me, old man,” she said gently. “What don’t you want to tell me?”

  “Your sword,” he said, feeling her tense up, and she gripped his hand harder. “We were transporting it to a vault for safekeeping. It’s my fault. I didn’t think they would go after it like that—with Unholy.”

  “Unholy?” she asked. “What do they have to do with my sword?”

  “Someone stole your sword in transit, Sepia,” Gan said. “I think the Unholy have it.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Lynn held the scabbard, careful not to touch the actual blade. The Shadows and Dreadwolves had long since left her as she ran alone in the streets. She could feel the power of the sword pulsing in her hand. It felt alive somehow.

  She looked behind her several times to make sure she wasn’t being followed. At the Columbus Circle entrance, she waited just inside the park for Onyx. Behind her, several Dreadwolves padded up silently, startling her. She remained perfectly still as they walked past her and set up a perimeter. When she was surrounded, a figured emerged from behind the trees and walked toward her.

  “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” she said into the darkness. “I didn’t think you needed bodyguards.”

  “I don’t,” Onyx said as he stepped close. “They insisted on joining me. They aren’t fond of outsiders. I see you were successful.”

  She looked at the Dreadwolves warily and showed him Perdition, still careful not to touch the blade. She undid the ties and revealed the lower half of the blade. Green wards pulsed as the blade gleamed in the night. With a deft turn, she forced the blade back in its scabbard and handed it to him.

  “My sources say that the Overseer is in the archive as we speak,” Onyx said as he admired the intricate writing on the scabbard. “You will need to be present once he extracts the keystone. This blade will be perfect, but I fear it may not survive the ritual. Can you get into the archive undetected? The artifact is on the lowest level.”

  “Yes, there is an old unused tunnel that leads there from the park,” she answered. “Once he activates a blood door, I will have access through the tunnels. We have him marked so I’ll know when he enters the archive. Then it’s just a matter of time.”

  “And the Shiva sentinels?” Onyx asked. “I’ve heard they were formidable.”

  “I have a surprise for the Shiva,” she said. “Leave that to me.”

  “Once Marks joins the keystone to the blade, you must bring him to me,” Onyx said. “The ritual will transform him and he must be contained.”

  “Transformed how?” she said warily. “Is he going to become a problem?”

  “Your people use tranquilizers,” he said. “I suggest you carry a large amount of them.”

  “How many?” she asked. “What am I looking at?”

  “Have you ever faced a behemoth?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “You’re telling me he is going to become one of those things?” she asked.

  The Dreadwolves around her gave a low growl.

  “Behemoths are twisted expressions of the Unholy, certainly, but they are not things,” Onyx replied. “Yes, he will begin the transformation. You must sedate him before he becomes self-aware.”

  “What kind of window do I have?” she asked. “How soon does it begin?”

  “Once the keystone is joined with the blade he will become one of us—an Unholy with the strength of a behemoth and the reflexes of a Hunter,” he said. “You will have approximately five of your minutes according to the texts. I would act with haste. Of course there is the chance he undergoes a complete transformation.”

  “Is the ritual that powerful?”

  “Resurrecting a Nightmare Lord requires a life-force and the essence of a named blade,” he said. “This being a dark blade will make it easier, but I don’t think it will remain intact for long after its essence is gone.”

  “Will it affect the Hunter?” Lynn asked. “Does this do anything to her?

  “Only if she’s bonded to it,” he said. “I am curious to see the outcome if that is the case.”

  Onyx handed the sword back to her. She looked down at a small display on her wrist. Its screen flickered in reaction to the EMP field given off by the park.

  “I need to get back to the tunnel entrance. Marks is on the move, and I want to be in position before they hit the C-level,” she said. “Are you certain it was a good idea to leave Reed alive?”

  “Did he suspect it was you?”

  “No, he was too busy bleeding to pay me much attention,” she replied. “But Gan will start an investigation, if I know him.”

  “We need to think about removing that particular thorn in our side,” Onyx said. “Preferably before the ritual.”

  “Easier said than done,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to face him as an enemy.”

  “You fear him?” he asked with a slight smile.

  “I respect him and his ability,” she answered. “I fear the power he wields, not the man.”

  Onyx nodded. “That would be wise,” he said. “In any case that is not your concern, but mine. Here, take this.”

  He handed her a small cloth that was covered with intricate wards on both sides. The writing was dark and flowing.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “This,” he said as he unfurled the cloth, “is the weave of Vinaash. It is almost impossible to locate one these days.”

  “What does it do?”

  “Allow me,” Onyx said.

  “Wait—what are you doing?” she asked, alarmed.

  Onyx, with the cloth in hand, grabbed the hilt of Perdition and removed it from the scabbard. He touched the blade with his hand. The cloth and blade both gave off a dark green light. He swung the sword a few times in front of him, driving Lynn and the Dreadwolves back several feet.

  “As long as the cloth remains in contact with your flesh, you can handle the sword and no harm will come to you,” he said. “I would say it works, yes?”

  He held the sword up and looked at the space in the hilt. A round area the size of a large coin remained empty. It illuminated the park like a beacon, casting green light in a circle around him.

  “Since you aren’t turning to dust, I’d say it works,” she said as he replaced the sword in its scabbard and handed it back to her. She placed the cloth in an inside pocket of her jacket.

  “Once he places the keystone, the ritual commences, but if she bonded to it,” he said, “she will know where her sword is at that moment and she will come for it.”

  “I can stop her,” Lynn said. “She’s nothing without her sword or gunman.”

  Onyx shook his head. “Let her come,” he said. “I want her to witness the ritual and to see that she is powerless to stop us. Then you can kill her.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Marks and Nathan walked the maze-like corridors of B- level. Rows and rows of shelving made up the corridors they traversed. Small brass directional plaques were attached to the walls at each intersection. These allowed the archivist to navigate the level they were on without becoming hopelessly lost. Nathan kept looking furtively around the intersections as he read the plaques.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Marks asked. “I thought this archive was sealed.”

  “It was, but that blood door shouldn’t have opened with my blood,” Nathan answered, looking down at the bandage on his hand. “Something’s wrong and it made me think of the failsafe—the sentinels.”

  “I told you the blood door was probably malfunctioning and any blood would work,” Marks said. “Stop being paranoid.”

  “Paranoid can keep you alive in here,” Nathan whispered as they came to another intersection. “Hate those damn sentinels.”

  He peered around the corner before reading the plaque on the corner that would direct them to level C.

  “Level C is that way,” Nathan said and pointed down the corridor. “Make sure not to touch anything on the shelv
es.”

  “What are these sentinels you keep going on about?”

  “If the archive is a body, the sentinels are the white blood cells,” Nathan answered as they came to another intersection and he peered around the next corner. “We would be the disease. The sentinels’ only job is to get rid of anything that doesn’t belong, which in this case is us.”

  “Since this archive is inactive, they should pose no threat,” Marks said with a hint of uncertainty.

  “In theory, yes,” Nathan answered. “Except that blood door—that door wasn’t supposed to open...for either of us.”

  “Which means?”

  “Systems that should have been shut down are active,” Nathan said. “That could mean the sentinels are active too.”

  “Then I suggest we hurry to our destination, don’t you?”

  “That would be the first time we agree on anything,” Nathan said. He picked up his pace as he walked the corridors.

  “You haven’t said what these ‘sentinels’ look like,” Marks said behind Nathan as they stepped quickly across an intersection.

  “I heard they look like giant metallic spiders,” Nathan replied. “I hate spiders.”

  “You heard?” Marks asked, incredulous. “You’ve never even seen one?”

  Nathan stopped walking and turned to face Marks.

  “Listen,” Nathan said, his voice a harsh whisper as he poked Marks in the chest, “I was an archivist, one of the best. I had the clearance I needed. I didn’t sneak around—didn’t need to. Why would I see a sentinel? I belonged here.”

  Marks held up his hands in mock surrender.

  “Calm down, I just asked if you had ever seen one of these so-called sentinels,” Marks said. “No need for the outburst, Nathan. I doubt those things are even active if they were machines.”

  “You don’t understand,” Nathan said, looking around nervously. “Sentinels are a lethal failsafe, especially on this level and the next.”

  “I haven’t seen any spiders, large or small, have you?”

  “Well, no,” Nathan answered after a pause. “But it doesn’t mean they aren’t around.”

  “Let’s get off this level and find what I’m looking for and then we can worry about your spiders.”

  “Coming here was a bad idea, Overseer,” Nathan said as they walked down the corridor. At the end, they could see another blood door. This one contained the same ornate designs as the previous door they had encountered. It seemed to contain an internal light source.