The Bearer's Burden (Phantom Pact Book 1)

by Chad Queen

  She stood and adjusted the sword with the grip clasped firmly in her palm. “I…am…your…princess.”

  The soldier with the hammer moved in to strike, and Ashlyn effortlessly sidestepped the massive weapon. She hit the man from behind with the flat of the blade as hard as she could. No time to think. Move to the next one, an alien thought instructed. The man swung, and she swatted the attack away and stuck the man square in the gut with an encoded fist.

  Within moments, the soldiers lay fallen around her. She stood, breathing hard yet not tired. She held up her hands in front of her and looked at them as if they were somehow not her own.

  Ashlyn hurried to Cade, put his arm across her shoulders, and began to move back toward the stairs. The man was heavy, too heavy. How will I get him out of here?

  Earrings, said the voice.

  She absently touched her ear and felt the remaining diamond earring she had put on before she had gone to talk to father. The core property of diamond: strength. That would do the trick.

  She took a deep breath and focused on an earring. She felt it press uncomfortably against her ear as her muscles became stronger, and she felt lighter. A drop of blood fell from her ear as she walked over to Cade. She moved to sling him over her shoulder, but she misjudged and instead sent him hurtling into the wall behind her.

  “Cade! I’m so sorry,” she gasped, hurrying over to him, and more careful this time, placed him over her shoulder. She felt a laugh rise within her. “Rolan, this is not funny,” she found herself saying aloud. Ugh, she thought, I have to stop doing that.

  The rush of footsteps sounded from the stairwell above. More guards. She wheeled around, finding only a single staircase leading downward.

  “Hold on, Cade,” she said, as she descended into the castle’s dungeons.

  25

  Escape

  A Bearer must take care when accepting a phantom. A phantom’s knowledge is passed to the Bearer, albeit imperfectly. What that means is thoughts may surface that are unlike your own. And you may find you know how to do certain tasks, where no prior knowledge existed before.

  —From Introduction to Bearer Psychology

  Ashlyn ran down the hall as fast as she could, careful not to hurt Cade more than she already had. He still hadn’t spoken, and his eyes remained closed. She wanted to check on him, but the guards would be upon them if she didn’t keep moving.

  They came upon a simple steel door in the dungeon that looked out of place. A storeroom? Perhaps they could hide there until the guards passed by. She set Cade down to the side and pushed on the door. It would not budge.

  Snorting, she dug her heels in and braced her hands against the door. She felt her ear sting sharply as she encoded to the diamond.

  Pushing hard upon the riveted steel door, she could feel the lock begin to creak and buckle. A little more…

  The door’s protestations ceased, and it swung open wide. She dragged Cade inside and shut the door. She sat down next to him as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. It looked like an old storeroom, but it had a stronger smell of mildew than even the dungeons above them. She could hear the trickle of water from the other end of the room.

  We can’t stay here forever, she thought. The guards would sweep the whole area until they were found. She gathered herself, stood up, and walked to the end of the room.

  The trickle of water was more of a fountain, with the water pooling a bit before it drained through a large crack in the stone floor. The Eremin river, she thought. It ran alongside the foundation of the castle, and veins of it flowed underground. All the veins emptied into a great waterfall on the backside of the cliff upon which the castle was built.

  Ashlyn bit her lip, surveying the stone bricks. They were large, but she thought she could move them if she used her diamond earring. She placed her hands upon the stone. It did not budge when she tested it with a light push. She began encoding, feeling the power surge into her hands as they shimmered. She pushed again, but it would still not move. She stayed focused and pulled the encoding even farther, her arms nearly becoming translucent. Panic welled up in the back of her mind, but she ignored it. Overencoding or not, this had to be done. The stone skidded an inch and then flew into a powerful jet of water from the Eremin. The underground stream was strong, its current taking the massive brick with it.

  She sighed, looking at the imposing rush of water as it began to pour into the room. Well, she thought, at least no one will follow us.

  Ashlyn, encoding once more, slung Cade over her shoulder and held tight as she ducked through the hole in the wall and let the current grab them. They rushed forward at incredible speed, surrounded by darkness as they descended deeper underground. She flailed with her free hand, trying to find a handhold among the passing rocks. Her hand just slipped across the wet surface of the underground riverbed. Her lungs began to burn. Hold on, Cade.

  Encode, a voice urged.

  She flared the diamond encoding and reached a hand toward a passing stone outcropping. She felt her nails tear as her fingers dug in. Her grip was true, and she managed to pull herself and Cade onto the small ledge. She looked at him and saw the color his in his face had drained away. Horrified, she took her hands and compressed them into his chest. She heard a strangled noise as Cade coughed up the water that had accumulated in his lungs. She sighed in relief as she rested against the stones.

  Ashlyn rubbed her injured hand. The river raged beside them, leading to the ocean outside the cliffs, which afforded them some light.

  Her hand brushed the floor of the ledge when she noticed something odd. Upon inspection, she discovered their perch was not a natural formation. It was made of carefully carved stone bricks. She looked to the wall behind her and discovered the same bricks traveling as far up as her eyes could see.

  “Cade, I’ve got good news. I think we’re right next to the old granary silo.” She looked down the length of the wall. “Though I’m not sure how we’re going to get inside. Any ideas?”

  She laughed, partly from exhaustion and partly because of her tenuous grip on her own sanity.

  He would know what to do. Think, Ashlyn, she told herself. What would Cade do?

  Looking at the wall before her, she laughed again. He would probably fight his way out. She placed one hand on the warm stone and pulled it into her fist. Wheeling back, she brought it crashing into the wall. The wall held fast.

  She brought her fist back again and sent it as hard as she could into the wall. Encoded or not, it hurt.

  A small crack took root in the stone. Her hand ached, but she pulled it back once more. Ashlyn yelled as she punched her fist through the stone and felt the rock shudder and crumble.

  “Good idea, Cade,” she said, pulling out the broken bits of stone.

  Her senses dulled and her earring released its tight grip against her ear as the phantom within her grew quiet.

  Pushing Cade through the opening she had made, she pulled herself through and was submerged in the dim light of the silo. She felt around the opening and discovered steps that appeared to spiral upward.

  The silo itself was no longer used for grain storage, but the staircase was still used by the castle’s staff to transport goods between floors. She slung Cade’s arm around her shoulder and began her slow ascent.

  She had only made it a couple flights of steps before her protesting muscles began to tire, no longer aided by diamond-assisted strength. She set Cade down before slumping against the inside of the smooth stone wall.

  A door farther up the stairs creaked open and torchlight flooded into the silo. Ashlyn froze, holding her breath and pressing herself firm against the wall.

  A thin man, hunched with age, emerged from the doorway and spotted her.

  A look of recognition flashed in his eyes. It took a few moments, but Ashlyn realized she knew the man. Gilliam, the seal-carrier she had saved years before from near certain death. The man glanced down, saw Cade, and nodded. He walked over to Cade and pulled an arm over his s
houlder. Looking at Ashlyn, he cocked his head upward.

  Wordlessly, he began climbing the stairs with Ashlyn following close behind.

  After climbing for what felt like hours, they came to another door. He opened the door and ushered her inside.

  Ashlyn recognized the floor. Her brother Elon’s chambers were just up ahead. The man must have known that with the guards patrolling the entrance, there was no way they could escape. Elon was rarely home, usually on an assignment from her father. They could rest here.

  She turned to the old man. “Thank you, Gilliam.”

  The man nodded with a faint smile. He turned, hearing footsteps descending from the silo steps above, and pulled the door closed behind him.

  Ashlyn dragged Cade into the servant entrance of Elon’s closet room and secured the door behind her. She laid him onto the floor and took a hold of his wrist, checking his pulse. Faint but present. She let out a wavering breath and sat, unsure of what to do next.

  “How are we going to get out of here?” she whispered.

  She heard the tumblers on the lock in the front chamber fall into place, followed by the sound of a door swinging open. Ashlyn scrambled up and cracked the door to the main chamber.

  Peeking through the crack, Ashlyn saw Elon addressing the guards at his door.

  “No, I do not need you in my personal chambers. I am quite capable of taking care of myself.

  “Yes, I am well aware that my sister has escaped. I will do my best to protect myself against an unarmed woman,” he said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  Her father had gone to great lengths to keep them separated. He had always wanted a boy, and when Elon was born, he directed all of his attentions to Elon. Even though Ashlyn was the firstborn, her father did not deem her worthy of inheriting the kingdom.

  Elon locked the door, pocketed the key, pivoted his wheelchair away from the door, and rolled to the dresser. Elon was very slight for a boy, and due to complications during childbirth, he was unable to walk on his own. Ashlyn noticed, the few times she had met with him, his handicap never seemed to dampen his spirits. While he generally wore a solemn expression, his eyes were always bright and penetrating.

  Even seated, his presence commanded respect. He was handsome and regal, and his ornate wheelchair looked as if he were perpetually sitting upon a throne. She could understand why her father had placed so much faith in him. He had the disposition of a born leader, and he commanded the complete respect of everyone he worked with.

  Ashlyn considered telling Elon what had happened to her. Would he listen? Or would he side with her father?

  Looking into the full-length mirror across from the dresser, Elon pulled off his traveling hat. He reached back and pulled out a small pin, and long, thick locks of hair came tumbling around his shoulders. He unbuttoned his collared shirt, revealing a cinched corset around his chest.

  Ashlyn’s eyes grew wide, and she stumbled trying to get a closer look, knocking down a suit that hung near the door.

  “Who’s there?” Elon demanded, wheeling around.

  Ashlyn, unsure what to do, opened the door slowly and met her brother’s eyes.

  “Ashlyn?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re hurt. What happened? Why are the guards looking for you?”

  Ashlyn could only stare at him, dumbfounded.

  Elon’s eyes grew wide as he touched his hair. “Right.” He sighed. “As I’m sure you are aware, father always wanted a male heir to become his protégé.”

  Ashlyn just stared at him.

  Elon broke his gaze and cast his eyes to the floor. “He never got one.”

  “Sister?” was all Ashlyn could say.

  Elon nodded. “After I was born, the doctors knew Mother was not going to be able to birth another child. From what I could piece together, Father was beyond distraught at not having a male heir. In what I can only describe as a fit of madness, he decided from that point on that he would masquerade me as a boy.”

  The slight frame, the soft voice. The separation from Ashlyn. The pieces fell into place.

  Anticipating a question Ashlyn did not ask, Elon shook her head. “I don’t know what advantage he sought by maintaining this farce. Perhaps it was a brief madness that overtook him during my birth. And perhaps he did not want to appear weak or insane by having to come clean once he regained his senses.”

  Elon paused, gathering herself. “I know something is coming. We have been visited again by the Wraith ambassador, which hasn’t happened since the treaty was first signed. I fear the worst, but I cannot get Father to tell me what’s happening. Do you know?”

  Ashlyn opened her mouth to speak when she heard Cade cough, slumped on his side.

  Elon, startled, rolled to the closet to investigate. “Is that…?”

  Ashlyn nodded.

  Elon crossed her arms and tapped a finger on her chin. She turned and grabbed the suit that had fallen. “Put this on.”

  “What?” Ashlyn said, brow furrowed.

  “If I can do it for my whole life, you can manage an afternoon. We’re getting you out of here.”

  26

  Elon

  Toltaire was the first major city established by the early settlers. The city continues to be a popular destination and has begun to infill previously undeveloped parts of the city. This has given rise to numerous tall buildings and a feeling of claustrophobia for those new to the bustling city.

  —From The History of Chalice

  Elon and her agents, members of Rolan’s network, escorted them to the side entrance of the castle. Thanks to the endless stream of couriers with deliveries for the Crossfort Ball, they managed to carry out the wardrobe trunk that held Cade without arousing suspicion.

  They rode down a circuitous back street, taking care to make extra turns to ensure they were not followed. Ashlyn told Elon of General Carlon and about the weapon they must collect in Toltaire.

  They stopped before a well-concealed townhouse crammed into the bustling commercial district of Toltaire. Property was so prized that every last square inch of the city had been purchased and built upon or backfilled. The entire cityscape was now a teetering jungle of wood and brick. Gone was the architectural beauty she remembered growing up. While it was terrible for the people who yearned for the wide-open spaces of old Toltaire, it was wonderful for people who did not want to be found.

  “We’ll be safe here for a while,” remarked Elon. “The Order has quite a few of these houses, and they take care to cycle them regularly.” Ashlyn knew her uncle Rolan had arranged for safe houses to be available for the Order of the Phantom, but she had never visited one herself. Paranoid measures for a city that couldn’t keep a secret.

  Ashlyn afforded herself a moment to relax and found herself struck by the novelty of being in the same room with Elon. She had seen so little of him…her…as she grew up that Elon didn’t really feel like family at all—just another person who lived at the castle.

  There was a knock at the door, startling her. Elon nodded to one of the guards. “It looks like they were able to find your friend.”

  The door opened, revealing a worried-looking Jace. When he saw Ashlyn, his face lit up. “You’re all right!”

  He ran up to her and hugged her, much to her surprise. “When I heard you both had been captured, I had lost all hope.” His gaze turned to Cade, who had been laid on the bed nearby.

  “Cade…what did they do to you?” He hovered over his friend, brow heavy with concern.

  “Let him rest,” Elon commanded and turned to Ashlyn. “You mentioned a weapon that could destroy the Wraith ship. Where are you going to take it?”

  Before Ashlyn could speak, Jace cut in. “We need to transport the weapon to Rynth.”

  Elon raised an eyebrow. “Why Rynth?”

  Jace glanced at Ashlyn, who nodded. Jace pulled out his leather-bound book and held it up. “We will rendezvous with a Foundation team that will secure a railbus to the Thread.”

 
Elon grimaced. “The Wraiths control all trains to the Thread, even in Rynth. That is a dangerous plan.”

  Jace nodded. “It’s all we’ve got right now.”

  Elon shook her head. “Well, if General Carlon believes in the plan, so do I. We must see you to this weapons-maker straight away.”

  A cough sounded from the bed. Cade, sitting up, rubbed his eyes. “I must go back to the castle,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  Ashlyn balked. “You can’t be serious. We were lucky to make it out of there. If it wasn’t for Elon…”

  “That voice…Eos. The machines,” stammered Cade.

  “Cade, what are you talking about?” asked Ashlyn, sitting on the bed next to him.

  “A sword. A broken sword of glass…It spoke to me.”

  Jace cut in, eyes wide. “Broken sword? You mean the Shard of Rynth?” He laughed. “The Shard is one of the most prized artifacts discovered in Rynth. It’s made of a mysterious color-shifting material that has never been seen before. How do you not know that?”

  Cade just looked at Jace, expression blank.

  Jace sighed. “Never mind. You’re saying it spoke to you?”

  Cade nodded. “I have to go back. I had…a dream about it.”

  Ashlyn looked at Jace. “You aren’t considering this, are you? I almost cost us this mission already.”

  “Hmmm,” said Jace, tapping his chin. “Cade’s been activating artifacts left and right these days, so I imagine this is no different. And we already admitted the plan we have is a long shot. If Cade can speak to the Ancients though that device—”

  “He didn’t say he was speaking to the Ancients,” said Ashlyn.

  Jace shrugged. “I don’t know who else would talk to him through an artifact, do you? But I can tell you that this artifact may be the missing piece to our plan.”

  Ashlyn just shook her head. “How are we going to get back there and get it? It’s impossible.”