by T. C. Edge
The Seekers of Knight
The Seekers Trilogy, Book Two
T C Edge
Contents
1. Stranded
2. An Unseen Danger
3. A Welcome Face
4. A City Subdued
5. Fifty Fifty
6. In Our Blood
7. The Titan’s Hand
8. Professor Lane
9. Links to the Past
10. The Grid
11. Phase Three
12. Suspicions Rising
13. Back in the Game
14. The Coronation
15. Expelled
16. The Cabal
17. A Legend Awakes
18. Time Grows Short
19. The Secret Base
20. Battle Begins
21. Face to Face
22. The World Burns
23. Mercator
24. Defence to Attack
25. Preparations
26. Attack on Titan
27. Decoy
28. Showdown
29. Battle Royale
30. Lambs to Slaughter
31. The City Falls
32. A Final Secret
Next in the Series
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, events, and incidents that occur are entirely a result of the author's imagination and any resemblance to real people, events, and places is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2016 T. C. Edge
All right reserved.
First edition: October 2016
Cover Design by Laercio Messias
No part of this book may be scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.
This is the second book in the Seekers Trilogy - the sequel to the bestselling Watchers Trilogy.
While it is possible to read this book without the others, it is advised that you check out the Watchers Trilogy first.
You can download the first book in the Watchers Trilogy for free on Amazon, or by clicking here.
THE WATCHERS SERIES:
The Watchers Trilogy:
The Watchers of Eden (Book One)
City of Stone (Book Two)
War at the Wall (Book Three)
The Watchers Trilogy Box Set
The Seekers Trilogy
The Watcher Wars (Book One)
The Seekers of Knight
Book Three coming November 12th
1
Stranded
The desert is endless, vast. It stretches out ahead of us as far as the eye can see, spreading on all sides towards the horizon.
Shimmering on its surface, a wave of heat hovers, the day growing increasingly oppressive as we travel across the open plains of this incessant wilderness. We’re crossing an area known as the empty plains, lifeless and desolate and caught between the Western hills we’ve come from, and the taller peaks of the mountains in the East where Petram dwells.
And it’s to the great city of stone that we’re headed.
Behind, many miles away now, the burning remains of Baron Reinhold’s compound lies. For a time, the towering column of smoke sent up by the inferno was visible, the secret base coughing up its black fumes. Now, however, as I turn to look back, I see no sign of it, the Western hills now far in the distance.
On the dirt bike behind me, Velia sits, clutching tight at my chest with her weary fingers. Grinding along the dirt and sand, we’re rushing as fast as possible, no time to lose in our mission to reach Petram and deliver the file.
The Seekers of Knight...
Hidden safely in my bag, the file is precious cargo. Who knows what secrets it will reveal, whether it will contain more of Knight’s legacy, more of the grand plan the Baron is determined to carry out. It’s imperative that we reach the city and get in contact with Drake. Right now, nothing else matters.
Under the directions provided by Velia and Vesuvia, we make good progress. Even here, in this sparse and empty land, they seem to know where they’re going, plotting our course ahead when we stop to take drinks breaks.
By the time the afternoon begins to evolve into evening, however, the strained, chugging sound of a spluttering engine signals danger. It’s Ajax’s bike that’s the first to go, his heavier weight forcing it to work a little harder than mine.
I share a concerned look with him as his bike begins to fail, grunting loudly like a dying beast. A few minutes later, my own transport starts to suffer the same mechanical affliction, coughing wildly as we pull to a stop in the hard dirt.
We all look to one another, our eyes growing hooded.
“Fuel’s out,” I say, putting words to the obvious.
I kick out hard at the bike, knocking it off its wheels in frustration.
“How the hell didn’t we think of that,” I shout, mainly to myself. “How could we be so stupid…”
In our rush, thoughts of running out of fuel never even entered my mind. Whether it entered the minds of the others I don’t know.
Velia comes over to me and rests a calming hand on my arm.
“There’s nothing we could have done about it anyway,” she says. “It’s not like we’d have found extra fuel in the compound, the whole thing was destroyed…”
I take a few deep breaths as I re-gather my focus. Then I turn back to the others.
“OK, we’ve got no choice. We have to continue on foot.”
Ajax raises his eyebrows, sweat dripping off them in the burning heat.
“On foot?” he says, looking around.
“What alternative do we have?”
No one can offer an answer.
“How far is it to Petram?” I ask, turning to the girls.
Now it’s their turn to share a look. They confer as only twins can, using a few telepathic eye movements and other gesticulations, before Velia speaks.
“Too far to walk. Not out here, not without more water. We’ll need to find another settlement.”
The mention of water makes me suddenly aware of how little we have left. I ask the others to get out their bottles and take account of their stores. Some worried looks are spread around.
“We have maybe a day’s worth of water left,” says Velia, “and in this heat we’ll dry up quick.”
The tone of her words are matter of fact, but ominous. These two girls know what life is like out here, how much water you need to survive, and how quickly your life can be taken without it. It’s something that Ajax and I, living in Lignum, have always taken for granted. Over in the woods, you could subsist forever on the dew twinkling on the forest floor each morning, or the rain gathered in leaves and hidden in roots. Here, such a thing isn’t possible.
“So, which way?” I ask.
There’s a rare show of concern in the girls’ eyes. In this vast wilderness, how could they possibly know which way the nearest signs of life might be?
“There are hills to the North,” says Velia eventually. She doesn’t sound confident. “We’ll never make it to Petram on foot, and the desert stretches too far that way to the East. Our best bet is to go North and find shelter among the hills. And,” she says, sweeping her eyes across the landscape, “we have to hope that we pass by a well along the way.”
With no better options available to us, we gather up our bags and begin marching northwards, altering our course as we drag our bodies through the sands and dried desert earth. I know that there are wells dug across the wilderness, built over the years for travellers who might find themselves in such a predicament as ours.
My father even told me once of his own pilgrima
ge across the Deadlands, when he led thousands of refugees to Petram in the early days of the War of the Regions. It doesn’t fill me with great joy when I recall his words: each well they passed, he had told me, had dried up as a result of a particularly hot summer.
And this summer grows hot.
The sun’s scorching rays begin to fade as the evening deepens, giving us some respite from the heat. On several occasions, I see Ajax taking out his bottle and preparing to take a long swig of water, only for Vesuvia to catch his arm and tell him ‘no’.
“We need to ration now,” she tells him. “Little sips, on the hour. Drink when I drink.”
Ajax defers to her greater knowledge of life in the desert and does as ordered. Yet it’s a habit that dies hard, and Vesuvia is forced to keep a constant eye on him to make sure he’s not drinking when he shouldn’t be.
Soon, the sunset is approaching fast, and the colours of the world turn beautiful once more. There’s a charm to this place, despite its hazards, that is impossible not to admire. I stop for a moment, watching the colours change from yellow to orange to red, their hues deepening by the minute, and imagine that in other circumstances, this might be quite nice.
Velia comes to my side and smiles at the look on my face.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she says. “I guess I forget sometimes. It’s nice to see it through your eyes.”
I look at her and know what she’s talking about. Sometimes you get so used to seeing something, no matter how beautiful, that it loses its wonder. The woods of Lignum are one such place, a place that I now appreciate more than ever; that I yearn to see again.
But not yet.
We chug on, the night air cool as the day is hot. Sometimes the evenings remain humid and close, at others they carry a bite on the breeze. Tonight is the latter. It’s refreshing, and helps to keep Ajax’s mind from wandering back to his thirst for water. But when the morning comes, we know that our appetites are only going to get more pronounced.
Night-time in the desert is rarely as dark as the woods or cities. Unless there’s cloud cover, the sea of stars and bright moon above paint a constant glow on the world around us. We take advantage of the light and are able to continue on into the evening for many hours, working our way towards the sight of the rising earth in the distance.
There, far to the dark horizon, it’s clear that the world grows a little in altitude, signalling the start of the hills that Velia had mentioned. Out here, in these unforgiving lands, altitude often means life. Plant life and animal life and people themselves all seek the higher passes in their attempts to ease away from the burning desert floor.
On the flatlands, however, and with the skies dark overheard, perspective is a fickle beast. Velia tells me that the rising lands are still miles and miles from where we are now, and that there may not be any settlements or little oases for many more miles after that.
“Until the ground grows high enough,” she says, “we’re unlikely to find anything.” Then she repeats what she said earlier, her words more anxious this time: ‘We have to hope that we pass a well.”
On we go, our legs growing weary. Ajax, it seems, begins to suffer first, his body growing weak through lack of food and water. It’s often the largest men who are hit hardest, their dietary requirements greater than the rest. And if he’s struggling, I’m sure I won’t be too far behind.
He soldiers on, of course, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. Weakness for Ajax is unthinkable, something his father would never permit. But this isn’t weakness, this is reality. Weakness would be ignoring his obvious signs of distress.
“We need to rest,” is Vesuvia’s assessment as Ajax’s pace begins to slow.
His eyes sweep over us and he shakes his head.
“Because of me? You’re kidding. Let’s keep going.”
Vesuvia stops him as he tries to pace off quicker than before.
“No…because of me,” she says, taking his ego out of the game. “I need to rest.”
We all agree that a few hours worth of rest would be the best for everyone, and set about finding a suitable rocky outcrop to find some shelter from the blowing sand. I scan the horizon and spot a square shadow under the glowing moon. When we reach it, we find that it’s a small wooden structure with an old door leading in. The door is barred with crumbling planks, several of them covering the opening.
Ajax’s eyes light up. “A well…” he says, moving forward with haste and easily discarding the planks with his mighty paws.
The girls don’t seem so taken by the place, and move towards the door with more caution. Inside, we take out our torches and find a short stairway leading underground into a little cave. In the centre of the cave is an old rudimentary lift with a pulley system designed to send it into the depths. The sight only serves to strengthen Ajax’s thoughts that we’ve found a source of water.
It’s Velia’s voice that holds him back as he tries to work out how to work the lift.
“It’s not a well,” she says. “It’s a mine. You won’t find water down there.”
“How do you know?” he says, turning to her. His eyes are more fierce than they should be. His thirst is clearly getting to him.
“You get them around here,” adds Vesuvia, taming Ajax’s temper with her soft words. “When they’re used up, they’re left out here in the desert. Velia’s right…we won’t find water here.”
Ajax frowns and finds a rock to sit on, shaking his head.
For my part, the thought of finding water down there also entered my mind. I ask the girls again, just for confirmation, and they tell me unequivocally that we won’t.
“The place was barred, and clearly hasn’t been used in years,” says Velia. “If there was a well here, it would be open. Travellers would use it regularly when moving through these parts. Trust me, this place is dead.”
I take her word for it, although can’t help but take a few moments to inspect the pulley system and the lift itself. I look down into the darkness, and see that the lift is actually broken, hanging awkwardly to one side and unable to take any amount of weight. It puts the entire prospect of searching below to bed.
Instead, we find our own positions to sit and get some rest. Vesuvia goes over and offers Ajax a little of her own water. When he says he can’t, she tells him that her requirements are much smaller than his, and that their rations shouldn’t be the same. He thanks her with a silent smile as he takes a refreshing gulp, before laying his head down to rest. She stays near him, happy to play nurse, her fingers lightly stroking his dark hair.
As I sit and watch from the other side of the cave, Velia comes over and sits beside me.
“He’s not looking good,” she says. “I think the last few days, at the Watcher Wars, and the compound, have taken it out of him.”
I nod, staring at my friend.
“He’s strong. He’ll get through it.”
It’s a naïve comment. Whatever we’ve been through over the last few weeks and months, this is a whole new challenge. And it’s one that will test the two of us far more than our new companions.
“We should rest for a couple of hours only,” she continues. “It’s best to continue before dawn, and put some hours in before it gets too hot.”
I nod. “If you think that’s best,” I say.
She smiles, happy perhaps to be in charge. I shift my bag off my back and put it to one side. Her eyes drift to it and reach forward. I don’t stop her as her fingers slide in and draw out the file.
Shining her torch on it, we both look at the front once more, our eyes resting on the words, ‘The Seekers of Knight’. Then she opens it up and the face of the ex High Chancellor greets us again. Until this point, we haven’t gone any further. We share a look and I nod, and then she turns the page once more.
Frowns drop on both of our faces at what greets us. It’s all random, seemingly written in some sort of code. We flick through a few pages and can work nothing out. There are endless paragraphs of
writing, as well as tables and formulas and other such documents inside. But none of it makes any sense.
I shut the file and put it back into my bag, knowing that it’s no good wasting energy trying to figure it out. When we get to Petram, we can pass it on to someone who will be better equipped to find out if it holds any secrets beyond what we’ve already discovered.
I shake my head. If we get to Petram, I muse negatively.
Velia seems of the same thought. Right now, there are more pressing matters to attend to.
Because that’s what this desert can do to you. One moment, we’re cruising across it, desperate to pass on what we’ve discovered. The next, we’re in the middle of the wilderness, sitting in an abandoned mine, our throats growing drier by the second.
And suddenly, we’re in another fight for our lives. Only this time, it’s with a very different type of enemy.
2
An Unseen Danger
I’m woken by the sound of a loud rattling. My eyes open quickly, and I peer towards the faint light coming down from the short wooden staircase ahead. Down the rocky passage comes the glow, now much darker than it was. And it’s from the passage, too, that the heavy sound of rattling is coming.
As I stand to my feet I notice that the others are also waking, expelled from their short slumber by the racket. I feel exhausted, my legs hardly able to activate, as I wander through the dark cave towards the source of the sound. Into my ears, the whistling of a loud wind grows, and as I look up the stairs and to the door, I notice that it’s banging hard against the wooden entrance to the mine.
It opens suddenly on the harsh wind, and slams shut just as fast, before performing the same routine again and again. And each time it opens, I feel the sharp spit of sand being thrust into my face, the billowing wind outside swirling it around and tossing it in all directions.
