by Leon Logos
“I am,” she frowned. “It’s just that—never mind.”
“I’m guessing the only people you care about here may still be alive,” Agno deduced. “Are they in the Council?”
“I’m not telling you,” she said firmly. “I’m not telling you anything until I get answers. You’re going to listen to me.”
“What would you possibly need to ask?” Agno asked. “You know everything, at least the gist of it.”
“No, I don’t!” she said, outraged. “Who is this Viktor asshole?!”
“The guy that helped us,” said Agno obviously.
“Cut the crap! Who is he? ‘Cause it seems like he knows us!”
“Father’s been affiliated with him for years,” said Agno. “We’ve just never met him before. Until now. And I’m glad we did.”
“So what? You go to him and ask him to spare a couple hundred soldiers to attack the Aurelians? And he just magically agrees?!”
“It’s not that simple,” Agno shook his head. “Viktor doesn’t believe in favors. He’s a businessman. We’ve obviously had to grant him something in return. Also, our goals were aligned. We both wanted to storm this place. We get the glory and you idiots back. He gets their money, and I guess the glory as well. Win-win situation.”
“What did you give him…?” she asked suspiciously, expecting something comparable to exchanging their souls.
“A map of the entire property,” said Agno simply. “And a bunch of other documents detailing their lifestyle. Like supply routes.”
“Huh? I thought you gave it to him recently! Didn’t you steal it from the barracks or something? Like last night?”
“No. We didn’t need to.”
“Then how did you get them?” she inquired.
“Someone stole them,” he returned.
“Who? If not you, who?”
“We did steal them.”
“Stop playing with me!” she said, both flummoxed and sullen.
“I’ll put it this way,” Agno said. “We stole them from somebody else that stole them first. Make sense to you now?”
“No, it doesn’t,” she scowled. “WHO originally took them?”
“Damn it, so many questions,” Agno said, annoyed. “That’s a wrap.”
“NO!” she protested, slamming her foot down. “There’s something you’re not telling me! Not just you, all of you! A bunch of shit you don’t want me to know. Like how did you get here? Where did you find Desmos? Where was he this whole time? What about Fa—”
“Forget about all of that now,” Agno cut her off. “It’s not the time for this. Ask Garen when all this is finished.”
Agno left without another word. She was dilatory in stopping him. He ignored her incensed and pleading calls. Serenity slid down to her feet. In rage, she kicked the walls and a pile of books. She grabbed a candle on the floor and launched it at the mirror on the dressing table. The mirror shattered to pieces, producing a strident noise. It was confirmed. There was definitely something Agno was hiding from her—all the other brothers were. What was it that they didn’t want her to know? What was so significant and secretive? And why were they so begrudging in divulging to her?
Agno had said to ask Garen. There wasn’t a chance she’d try to. If she couldn’t extract any context out of Agno, Garen would be impossible.
She decided she’d be present when Desmos demanded background information on all of this. They wouldn’t refuse Desmos. Even if he was injured, Desmos still possessed unmitigated authority; especially now that Gunther was out of the picture. Another topic the brothers were covertly (but really overtly) avoiding: the whereabouts of Gunther. What was he doing? How did they manage to convince him to let them go? No, they had mentioned Gunther was opposed to it. They must’ve sneaked out like Desmos and Kyler. But she had to conjecture something else happened between them. It seemed the brothers abandoned Gunther and intended to never return to him. What engendered this change of heart and shift in allegiance, she could not guess.
Serenity exited Alistair’s room, then stopping in the middle of the arched hallway. She looked around. There was nobody in sight. Viktor and the brothers had left her all alone. She was free to roam by herself, without any designated babysitter breathing down her neck and having her on a leash. The question was: where would she go? She could go searching for the surviving Councilmen by herself. But if the others hadn’t succeeded, she couldn’t see why she could. True, her knowledge of the Aurelian residence was vastly more expansive than that of the brothers’ or Viktor’s. However, she really couldn’t deduce where the Council was possibly hiding.
The main house was huge; who knew how many secret rooms, trapdoors, or fake walls could be surreptitiously scattered all over the house? She wasn’t aware of a single one of them. Serenity presumed they just didn’t trust her enough to reveal any of them to her. Or they just didn’t feel it necessary to tell her, since the possibility of an invasion was far-fetched and even inconceivable.
She left the Councilmen living quarters and proceeded down the hall, pondering to herself as she walked. One of Viktor’s soldiers passed by her, enjoying a giant pizza roll he must’ve purloined from the kitchens. During her first week with the Aurelians, she remembered thinking how there was enough food to feed an army in the main house. But now, the food made and stored in the kitchens were feeding the wrong mouths.
Bodies still overspread the floors of the halls. Even though she fully expected to walk past a plethora of corpses, it was in her nature to be disturbed. More proof that she was deviant from the Carlisles. Which again raised the question she numerously asked herself, “Why did I turn out different?” She supposed it was fortunate she did; Serenity certainly preferred being passive and a “coward” rather than a bloodthirsty murderer.
Serenity suddenly stopped in her tracks. With her thoughts centered on family, she randomly remembered the pedigree Sixto had shown her in one of the towers (the tower closest to the main house). The entrance to the tower was blocked by a steel door. Another one of these steel doors was found at the top of the tower, leading to the pedigree room. These doors could only be opened through a fingerprint scanner. She presumed the guards or the Councilmen had access to the tower with their fingerprints. The juxtaposition of such modern security and an ancient building previously had struck her as odd. Not anymore.
The pedigree room must’ve been renovated for an additional use. Why the tower out of all places, she could not say. But for the first time, she had a hunch she’d find someone.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Luckily, nobody seemed to care that she was roaming the residence freely without supervision. The soldiers that passed her paid her no mind, most of them not even bothering to look at her. Nonetheless, she was watchful for any of the brothers or Viktor. They’d stop her if they spotted her. There was no sign of them as she entered the courtyard. Hands in her pockets, head down, she power-walked across without stopping.
The residence was essentially in ruins, like a wrecked town after being struck by a natural disaster. Pieces of wood, stone, concrete, and other debris piled up the streets sporadically. Wisps of smoke still billowed as the fires continued to rage on. Besides the traffic of Viktor’s soldiers, it was virtually a ghost town. She saw nothing but death. The happy, ordinary faces of Aurelians bustling up and about had been supplanted, superseded by a hellish graveyard. She recognized the face of a chef that had once given her a sample white chocolate made organically in the kitchens.
The guesthouses were also stacked with corpses; these were where most of the guests slept.
She wanted to know where the residual Aurelians were hiding. Even if her guess about Aurelians hiding out in the pedigree room was true, the room wasn’t big enough to accommodate or fit more than twenty people. Even with twenty, there would barely be space even to take one step.
It was sunrise already. The gray mourning sky was perfused with gloom and a tinge of fiery daylight. Just by gazing up overhead, she could p
ractically deduce calamity had struck and that the night had been rife with death and destruction. Never before had she observed the sky so grievous and drab, despite the scarcity of clouds. It was a portentous anomaly, something out of a fairy-tale.
Serenity proceeded onward to the pedigree tower. Again, she wondered if this tower was the official emergency spot to hide. She surmised that it was just one of many. Was a tower that convenient for a hiding spot? Considering all the towers had been left untouched by Viktor’s men, she presumed it was. The ancient structure of the towers (which indicated its antiquity) possibly failed to arrest the attention of Viktor’s men, slipping past their acquisitive eyes. Of course, the towers weren’t that old. They were made of solid stone, but a few cracks were visible here and there. Somehow the Aurelians managed to install a modern steel door with state-of-the-art technology equipped. The Aurelian engineers did the job.
Her legs burned with each step she took. They were drained of strength, having been used for hours on end. The soles and heels of her feet were painfully sore, throbbing profusely upon every step as weight was applied. She yearned for a bucket of ice water to submerge her feet in for twenty minutes, to provide relief. But her conviction that her family was alive, and her commitment to finding them, pushed her onward. Furthermore, nobody seemed inclined in stopping her. This was her opportunity to investigate, and if successful, reunite with her cousins and uncle. She’d even be relieved to see Lyla’s slighting face. She knew she’d be tremendously aggravated if Lyla died before the two of them could reconcile. Serenity sought to uncover why Lyla despised her so much. No matter how long she ruminated about it, she never arrived at an unequivocal reason.
As far as Serenity could remember, she had not wronged Lyla in any way. No misdemeanors, betrayals, or transgressions came to mind. None that could anger her anyway. Her first impressions of Lyla were passable. To her, she came off as an apathetic teenage girl with frivolous, innocuous idiosyncrasies. Overall, Lyla was a regular girl. But incrementally over time, the girl began to exhibit her silent antipathy openly. To the others, it was subtle and maybe even nonexistent. But Serenity felt the animus.
A watchtower with a massive bell came into view. She assumed it was the warning bell. It was completely golden and scintillating, fancy, and embroidered in decadence. Simply Aurelian-esque. Before, several armed guards would patrol the battlements where the bell was situated, ready to ring the bell if a threat was spotted entering the property. She knew these guards were taken out first before the invasion began. That way, the attack could be carried out in secrecy. The quintessential ambuscade.
She came to a halt, stopping by the door. She arrived at the tower. Two Aurelian soldiers that were supposed to be guarding the entrance were, of course, dead. Their bodies lay adjacent to the door. She looked down at the fingerprint scanner. Out of curiosity, she tried using her fingerprint.
ACCESS DENIED
The system had rejected her immediately, glowing red.
“Of course,” she sighed disgruntledly.
She looked around, searching for something that could perhaps be used to destroy the scanner and perhaps grant her access forcefully. She found three adequately sized rocks that could be used. But her eyes averted to the dead bodies. Their fingers were still intact.
She had two options: cut off their fingers—or lift one of them to place their finger on the scanner herself. She decided on the latter, repulsed at the notion of dismembering a human finger. She sized the two corpses up, deciding the one on the right to be lighter. He was tall but lanky.
Serenity hoisted his body up, her arms around his chest. She felt disgusted at handling a dead body. His blood smeared on her clothes. One arm holding him up temporarily, she used her free arm to grab his hand and raise it up to the scanner. She pressed his finger against the scanner and waited two seconds. After a green screen, and an “ACCESS GRANTED,” the door swung open with a satisfying click. She quickly discarded the body, dropping it hastily.
She entered the tower and was immediately greeted by the long, winding spiral staircase. Serenity shook her head, looking down at her legs.
“Don’t fail me now,” she urged.
Her legs were tired enough already. They didn’t need the struggle of ascending ten flights of stairs. She commenced the climb, ignoring the pain to the best of her ability. Desisting from thinking about it too much helped the process as she steadily ascended. Each flight was accompanied with a single bow window, which allowed the sunlight to stream in and offered an aerial view outside. Though, the glass on the windows was blurred by fog and condensation, making it impossible to see.
After ten total flights of stairs, she dropped to her bottom in exhaustion. Her legs and feet were burning. It was obvious why; she was out of shape. With the Carlisles, cardio was an almost-daily activity. It strengthened her legs and built her stamina substantially. It felt like years since the last time she went on a run. With the Aurelians, she hadn’t worked out even once. It had been blissful being lazy, but the ramifications were now evident. Another steel door stood in front of her. Behind it was the pedigree room. This door didn’t have any fingerprint scanner, but rather an old-fashioned door handle. Indubitably, Serenity knew it had to be locked. The last time she was here with Sixto, the door had been strangely unlocked. But definitely not this time.
She tried the door. Locked. She then pressed her ear against the door, hoping to hear anything that would indicate occupants inside. Nothing.
She had only one option. If she couldn’t hear them, maybe they could hear her. Cheek against the door, she began speaking.
“Hello?” she called out, speaking loudly and clearly. “Anybody there? It’s me! Serenity! If you’re in there, please open the door!”
She waited several seconds, hoping for a response. But none came. Too optimistic to give up early, Serenity tried again, displacing her previous tone of urgency by infusing it with solemn sincerity.
“Um…” she began slowly, “If you’re there—I just hope you’re all doing okay. I’ve been so worried about you guys.”
Nothing. She continued.
“Uncle Alistair…Dorian…Sixto…Lily…Destiny…even you, Lyla! I swear, there’s nobody else here. Nobody knows I’m here!”
She waited for about thirty full seconds. Her heart sank. The prospect of them ignoring her on purpose seemed unlikely. She wondered if they were truly in there but were just being circumspect. Maybe they thought she was baiting them into a trap? And that the enemy was right beside her?
“Fine…” she asserted. “If you don’t wanna open the door, that’s fine! But just, please, stay in there if you’re there! It’s dangerous outside!”
She turned around to leave, distraught that she was wrong. But one second after she turned to leave, she halted once again. After three indistinct clicks, which she presumed to be the sound of the door being unlocked, the door swung open slowly. She couldn’t help but gape infelicity, despite it being Bastion’s surly face welcoming her, and his revolver pointed right at her. He took one step past the threshold of the door, ascertaining that nobody was with her and nobody was coming. Silence confirmed that nobody was at least approaching.
“How the hell did you find us?” Bastion demanded brusquely.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Before she could answer, Bastion pulled her inside forcefully. She stumbled, regaining her balance and looking around. Her first thoughts were that there was a whole knot of people inside. At least fifteen. With a more thorough glance, she confirmed them to be the Councilmen. She recognized the eyepatch man, Alistair, Dorian, and Bastion. It was cramped in the room, hindering her freedom to move. Two more steps and she’d bump into someone.
“Serenity!” a voice called out eagerly.
“Sixto?” Serenity turned around gleefully. It was indeed him, holding Lily to his side. The little girl looked equally as euphoric at seeing her. Dorian and Alistair rose to their feet, approaching her. Lyla maintained her usual glo
wer, watching her silently with even stronger venom in her eyes than before. She didn’t bother making eye contact with the girl. Dealing with Lyla was the last thing she wanted right now.
“I asked you a question!” Bastion barked, shutting and locking the door behind him. There was a prominent gash under his right eye.
“And we expect you to answer it,” Alistair prompted.
“What was the question again?” she asked, dazed, now trying to gather how everybody was brought here.
“HOW DID YOU FIND US?!” Bastion thundered.
“Calm, Bastion,” Dorian said coolly. “Let her speak.”
“I just guessed,” Serenity said candidly. “I wasn’t sure I’d find you all here. But I remembered the time Sixto and I visited and how there were steel doors and stuff. It was just a guess.”
“Ridiculous!” the eyepatch man snorted.
Out of all the Councilmen (excluding Bastion, Dorian, and Alistair), he was the most vocal. “What are you, some masterly detective? It’s not believable!”
“I don’t know what else to tell you,” she replied. “I wasn’t told that this place was a safe room used for emergencies!”
“It’s not the most convenient one,” Sixto said, getting to his feet. “We have one in the main house, in a hidden basement.”
“Then why aren’t you guys there?” she asked, befuddled.
“Out of caution,” Sixto answered. “We figured we’d be more hidden here, considering they’d prioritize their search in the main house. It was a spur-of-moment decision to come here. This tower isn’t far, but we had to hurry.”
“No, that’s not why,” Alistair clarified. “We realized an abundance of important documents have been stolen from us. Among these missing documents are several maps, one of them depicting the precise structure of the house. Every floor, room, and wall, including the basement which is utilized as a bunker. The enemy somehow got their hands on it.”
