Jaxon Prayer (Jaxon Prayer Trilogy Book 1)

by Rachel West

  “He’s not normally so…grouchy,” I tell Jaxon.

  “Who? Red?”

  “Yeah. I think he’s worried about me. He doesn’t – he doesn’t trust you like I do. I’m sorry.”

  Jaxon waves away my apologies, “It’s of no matter.”

  “No,” I say. “It does matter. Because if something happens I need you to know you can count on him. Red is family. He has been there for me – saved me – more times than I can remember. He doesn’t trust you. Probably never will. But you can trust him. You can depend on him.”

  “Evie..”

  “Shh,” I bring my finger to lip. There’s something... Light flickers off a tree in front of us. So subtle I almost didn’t notice it. Have we somehow circled all the way back to our camp? No – impossible. Which means there is someone else out here in the forest with us. Not some animal or automaton but someone who knows how to build a fire.

  “What?” Jaxon says and is at least smart enough to keep his voice at a whisper.

  “Do you see that?” I point between two trees where the orange light can be seen playing off them.

  Jaxon reaches for his weapon. “We need to go back.”

  “No. Let me go look quick. We need to know who else might be here.”

  Jaxon stares at me for a moment as if weighing the options in his mind. Finally he gives a short, jerky nod and we both inch forward. We approach a small clearing, nearly identical to the one we chose for our own camp.

  “Shit,” I whisper and duck to the ground. Praetors. Five of them – two with h-cycles. I lay flat on my stomach and scoot forward for a better view. I hear a sound, like an animal crying, and look to the far side of the camp. Attached to the two h-cycles is a cart. It seems so out of place in the forest it takes me a moment to recognize what’s within.

  People.

  Or prisoners? I try to get a better look but the smoke from the campfire distorts my view. But I know what I saw – there were people within the cart. I nudge Jaxon with my shoulder and point. “There are people in there.”

  “Let’s go,” Jaxon whispers. He grabs my wrist and tugs lightly, encouraging me back. I let him pull me away knowing it’s dangerous to be so close to a group of Praetors. If they found us out here – My heart catches and for a moment everything spins out of control. Jaxon reaches out to reassure me and the warmth of his hand is enough to steady me.

  “What are they doing out here?” I peek around the tree, “In the middle of nowhere?”

  “Likely they are bringing prisoners to one of the farms.”

  “I thought they brought them out on the zeppelins? Why are they going by land?”

  “The Praetors only send them by air over the city walls to the Loupes watchtower. From there they are escorted by ground to the prisons.”

  “You mean it’s like a…sorting facility?” I imagine what the place must be like. Thousands forced into endless lines. Afraid, exhausted, treated like animals being sent to the butcher. The rest of their lives determined on the whim of whomever does the sorting. “That’s disgusting.”

  “It is the way of things.”

  “And you’re just okay with that?”

  “I--“ Jaxon pauses, running his fingers through his hair. “I do not believe it matters what I think.”

  “You’re the son of the Great Uniter. You never thought of changing things? You never thought of what you’ll do different when you rule?”

  “I will never rule. My brother will follow my father.”

  “Oh so that’s it then. You’ll never rule, so what does it matter how your people are treated? Do you think all of those people down there are criminals? Do you think my sister is a criminal? Do you think it’s okay to just lock people away until they rot away into nothing?” I whisper harshly, rage making my voice tight.

  “There is nothing I could do.” Jaxon says, but I hear the doubt in his voice. The question. And I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I am starting to get through to him.

  “We could rescue them.”

  “No,” Jaxon says, “That will only result in our deaths, then what will happen to your sister?”

  I look again at the small group. Only five Praetors, three of them asleep. The small cart the prisoners are trapped within. Five Praetors against three of us? It is -- possible.

  “We have to.”

  “What?” Jaxon turns to face me, “No. It is foolish.”

  “I’ll get Red.”

  “Evie, stop.” Jaxon lunges forward and grabs my wrist. “Please.” Jaxon pleads and I hear the fear in his voice.

  “What if they are like my sister. What if they are innocent?”

  “What if they are real criminals? What if we set them free and they rob us? Or worse?”

  “That is a chance I am willing to take.”

  “You have too much faith.”

  “And you don’t have enough!” I shout at him. Jaxon rears back in surprise, his eyes going wide as he releases my arm. I spring away from him and dart into the darkness between the trees. For an instant, I worry I may have made too much noise. That the Praetors may have heard my yell or my frantic crashing through the trees. But I can’t let the Praetors have these people. I can’t.

  “Evie!” Jaxon whisper-yells behind me. “Wait. Please.”

  I slow my pace, not wanting to get too far from Jaxon, but I can’t give him the chance to talk me out of this. It is only five Praetors. Between the three of us? We can do it. We can take them.

  I burst into the small clearing where our camp lies. Panting, I rest my hands on my knees as I catch my breath. Something warm drips down my cheek, I swipe at my skin with one hand and even in the darkness I can see the small streak of blood. I wipe the stain on my pants, ignoring the sudden pain that has come with knowledge of the wound.

  Red sits by a small fire he must have lit after we left. He stares blankly into the flames and doesn’t notice my arrival. “Red,” I whisper. “Red!”

  Red shifts slowly then turns around to face me. He blinks dazedly up at me but in an instant clarity enters his eyes. He snaps his arm out, grabbing the weapon by his side and jumps to his feet.

  “Automatons?” He asks. Slowly, he spins in a circle, searching the whole clearing, before turning his eyes to where Jaxon can be heard. He crouches low, weapon out and ready for an attack.

  “No,” I rest my fingers on his arm, lightly pushing his blade down. “That’s just Jaxon. But I need your help. The Praetors--“

  Red’s eyes go wide and his fingers tighten around his weapon.

  “Evie!” Jaxon comes running up throwing himself between Red and I. “Don’t listen to her foolishness,” Jaxon demands of Red, “She’ll get us all killed. She’ll get herself killed.”

  Indignant, I shove at Jaxon, sending him two stumbling steps back. His arms windmill as he tries to catch his balance.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The Praetors have prisoners--” I point back in the direction Jaxon came from, “Just a mile from here.”

  “And she wants to rescue them,” Jaxon cuts me off with a patronizing glare.

  “There’s only five of them,” I tell Red, my voice full of urgency. “And three of them were asleep. If we surprised them. We could--“

  Red glances between Jaxon and I, a thoughtful look on his face.

  Jaxon sees the approaching agreement before I do. “You cannot honestly believe this is a good idea,” he says.

  Red turns on Jaxon, using his greater height to loom over him. “I know exactly what kind of monsters the Praetors are. And I will leave no one to them.” Red flashes a triumphant grin at Jaxon and for a moment I think this is about something other than the Praetors, but then I realize it doesn’t matter. Whatever drove Red to agree is enough for me.

  “Thank you. Thank you!” I throw myself at Red, wrapping my arms around his chest and resting my head against the beat of his heart. “Thank you,” I mumble into his jacket.

  “You will be dead before sunrise,” Jaxon says
and when he speaks it’s like he doesn’t even care at all.

  Like we are already dead to him.

  CHAPTER 15

  Jaxon stands in the middle of the clearing, arms crossed over his chest, as Red and I prepare for the attack. I crouch on the ground, digging through my knapsack and retrieving anything I might need. My synthblade goes into the loop at my waist, the small dagger into the band around my boot. I pull on the jacket from Jaxon, the obsidian black cloth able to mask me in the night better than any of my own clothes.

  Next to me, Red prepares in his own way; with stretches and lunges. Loosening his body, readying for a fight.

  “You should not do this,” Jaxon says from behind me. I spin around to face him, ready for another argument.

  “Do you think we are so pathetic we can’t win? That we are too weak? The Praetors may be powerful, but they are still just men.”

  “It is not that,” Jaxon says. He shoves his hands into his pockets, arching his body slightly toward me “The three of us, together we could take on the five of them. But would we return unharmed? Would the prisoners make it out alive? Then what happens? Do we bring them with us to rescue your sister? If one of us is injured taking on five Praetors; that -- that is nothing. But if one of us goes in wounded to rescue your sister, where we will be facing five dozen Praetors? Is that a risk you are willing to take?”

  I take a slow breath, giving myself a moment to think. Everything Jaxon says is right. In my head I know every single one of his concerns is valid. But in my heart I see the cramped confines the prisoners were trapped in. I see the fear on my sister’s face the day she was taken.

  “I--“

  “What if the sound draws in more Praetors? Or worse, the automatons? Then what is to be done?”

  “Stop it,” I shout, “Just stop it. We are doing this and you can either help us or you can wait here. But you will not change my mind.”

  “You are so--“ Jaxon throws his hands up and stalks to the far side of the clearing.

  And I guess that is his answer and Red and I will be doing this on our own. I glance to Red, who rolls his shoulders in a shrug. “Ready?” he mouths.

  I nod and jerk the string that tightens the hood of my jacket. With a light tug, I check that my synthblade is secured to my waist.

  “Lead the way,” Red gestures forward. I smile at him, but fear leaves my grin tight and my pulse quickening. The forest feels suddenly darker. The trees loom over, their twisted branches like knarled fingers trapping us under their canopy. When I stumble over a loose stone, Red reaches out to catch me and his cold hand is one of the dead.

  “You okay?” he mumbles and I can hear the concern in his voice. The doubt.

  “I’m fine. Let’s do this,” I force strength into my voice. Surety. But inside I am trembling. Because Jaxon was right and the chances of us coming out unscathed are slim. I have spent so much of my life hating the Praetors, but the thought of confronting them has never really occurred. Despite my words to Jaxon, the Praetors have always been more than men. Not the gods the Millennials position themselves as, but still, something …greater than the rest of us.

  Running steps behind us have Red and I reaching for our weapons. I spin around, synthblade half-pulled from its sheath, to see Jaxon approaching. A stress I didn’t even know was there is relieved. I relax the grip on my weapon, letting it slide back into place.

  “Jaxon,” I whisper his name like a promise on my lips. A lightness flutters in my heart as I smile at him. “You came.”

  “You forgot this,” Jaxon shoves a small bag at me. I reach out, fumbling the leather into my arms. “For when the Praetors leave you bleeding.” I recognize the bag as our first aid kit, sparingly filled with gauze and antiseptic.

  “Thanks,” I mutter as I hold the bag awkwardly in my hand, unsure of what to do with it.

  “Alright, well -- good luck,” Jaxon turns to go, hands once more shoved into his pockets.

  “Wait.” I set the bag carefully on the ground then approach Jaxon. I reach out to him, but drop my arm midmotion. “Help us. Please.”

  “I will not attack my own people merely to free a couple of criminals.”

  “They’re not criminals.”

  “You do not know that,” Jaxon steps in closer to me. He leans down, his face nearly touching mine. “Why are you doing this?” he whispers. “What are you trying to prove?”

  “It’s--it’s the right thing to do. Something you clearly know nothing about,” but the defensiveness is thick in my voice and I wonder if Jaxon hears the lie. The right thing to do? Sometimes I think I know less about that than Jaxon does. No, this has nothing to do with morals and everything to do with guilt. Every day I have watched the Praetors abuse their power and I have never stood up to them. My sister, my mother. Limping Liddy. So many lives taken and destroyed and I watched it all happen.

  “Well enjoy your moral high ground while you can. I am quite sure you won’t have long to do so,” Jaxon drawls sarcastically. The anger in his voices leaves me questioning my decision but it’s the fear in his eyes that gives me hope.

  “You made a promise to help me rescue my sister.”

  “This,” Jaxon waves his hand towards the forest, “has nothing to do with rescuing your sister.”

  “If I die doing this. Or get hurt. Then what? You’ll never be able to help me. You’ll never be able to keep your promise. I thought you were a man of your word Jaxon Prayer,” I spit the words like gunfire but inside my stomach twists with guilt over trying to manipulate him.

  Jaxon winces and steps back, putting some distance between us. He glances between Red and I, his brow furrowed and one finger tapping angrily against the synthblade at his waist.

  Red comes up behind me and wraps his arm around me. Gently, he pulls me away from my standoff with Jaxon. “Come on, we don’t need him.”

  I take one last look at Jaxon, whose eyes are glued to where Red’s arm is wrapped around me. “Stop,” Jaxon says. “Wait,” his shoulders slump with defeat.

  In surprise, I look at Red, who winks at me and offers a mischievous smile. I open my mouth to say something, then close it, unsure of where to begin

  “Now that we’re decided,” Red drops his hands from my shoulder and claps his hands together. “Lead on.”

  Together, we mark a somber path through the forest. Red and I walk together, Jaxon trailing a few feet behind muttering under his breath about my stupidity. Before long a flicker can be seen in the distance. A fire, the light of its flames dancing through the trees like living shadow. Red raises one hand, bringing us to a stop. The edge of the fire’s light is only a few feet ahead, leaving us safely ensconced in darkness.

  The two H-cycles are powered down, their heavy shape ungainly looking on the ground. A Praetor rests on the back of one, his watchful eyes staring into the forest. Beyond him lies the metal cart with the prisoners. I peer closely, trying to see how many are within. But limbs meld into each other, arm into leg, a bit of hair here, a closed eye there. Packed so close they’re impossible to count.

  Jaxon nudges me with his shoulder then points to the far left. Two Praetors sleep on the ground while a third sits on a rock above them. All of them still wear the thin, spider-silk uniforms, but their heavy trench jackets rest next to them, not on them, and their helmets are nowhere in sight. Seeing them like this, unguarded -- the lines of their face visible in the fire’s light, I remember that Praetors were once men and women no different from me. Recruited from every district of Haven. I wonder what the Millennials offered to turn them against friends and family.

  “The gun,” Red asks, “do you still have it?”

  “Not here,” Jaxon replies, “Back at camp.”

  Even in the darkness I can see the disparaging look Red gives to Jaxon. Jaxon, oblivious or purposefully ignoring him, says, “There should be one more.”

  I count the visible Praetors. Four. Jaxon is right, there is supposed to be one more. “Where?” I mumble half to mysel
f. I listen to the sounds of the forest around me. The quiet call of a bird looking for its mate in the darkness. The restless shift of leaves as they wait for the morning sun.

  “There,” I point to the far side of the camp. A man walks out from between the trees, his chest bare as he pulls on the inner part of his uniform. His flesh is so pale to nearly glow through the darkness. The man stops, leaning against a tree and surveying the camp around him. I hold my breath as his eyes pass over where we lay hidden in shadow.

  “We’ll need to sneak around to the other side,” Red says. “Surprise the group of three.”

  “You would kill a sleeping man?” Jaxon asks.

  “You’d risk waking them up to leave us fighting five against three?”

  Jaxon raises his brows in disbelief, ready to argue, but then his eyes slide over to me and his only response is the tightening of his lips.

  Red nods then says to me, “Evie, can you take out the one on the h-cycle? Then get to the prisoners.”

  “Yes,” I say with an assurance I don’t feel. This is different than any fight I have been in before. This isn’t Red teaching me the basics in a closed area or me whacking some boy upside the head when he gets too handsy.

  This is a battle.

  I think of how I froze only three nights back when we were attacked by the automaton. How my instinct is to run rather than fight.

  Red watches me with doubt in his eyes and I know he can see straight through me. “I can do it,” I say. “It’s just one man.” One better-trained, better-armed man, are the words I don’t say but everyone hears them regardless.

  “Alright then, let’s do this.” We break apart as everyone checks their weapons one last time. Nervous anticipation surrounds us like a low-hanging cloud. Together we creep around the edges of the camp. I watch my feet carefully, avoiding snapping twigs and bits of loose ground that would give us away.

  When we reach the opposite side, Red points toward where the guard near the two h-cycles rests. I make my way silently towards him. Something gives me away, because the Praetor’s eyes snap towards me, searching in the darkness like he knows exactly where I am. Red, who must have been watching, yells “Now!” and the three of us charge into the camp.