“You sure about that?” Danvers asked, “You’re a Tribune.”
“Yeah, but they’re having a pissing contest about whose plan is better, and I’m not in the mood to join them. I got them to come here, I feel like that’s enough.”
“And I appreciate that,” Axel said, “But you do understand who we’re going up against, right?”
Neeve nodded. “I know,” she said, looking right at him, “I took his seat at the table, and he left big shoes to fill.”
“No,” Axel shook his head and squared up to her. “Do you know who he is?”
“I’ve met him before. I know his politics, his values, his methods.”
Axel shook his head. “No. You don’t know his methods, not the way I do. My advice? Stay close to RJ. Tribune or not, my father won’t care. He’ll murder you if you get in his way, and he won’t even break a sweat or think twice about doing it. I’ve watched him do it.”
Neeve nodded. “You obviously don’t know who I am, Mister Barlow. I may be young in comparison to the other Tribunes, but I have earned my seat. I came to fight for my people, for my city. I’m not about to cower behind someone else.”
A pause rolled through the group. “I like this chick,” Danvers said.
The Tribune grinned. Then Becket, Eliphas, and Dexius broke away from their quiet discussion to address the group. It was Eliphas who spoke, the Magister clearly wanting to at least look like he was the person in charge of the operation.
“Alright,” he said, “According to our source, Isabella is laying on a bed, unconscious, likely somewhere toward the rear of the compound.”
“Your source…” Karim said, “You mean Becket’s demon?”
“Indeed. According to the source, she hasn’t been harmed, but she’s wearing the crown and she’s under guard.”
“My father?” Axel asked.
Becket shook his head. “Asmodius isn’t near her. Not right now, in any case. I believe he’s expecting an attack and is preparing his defenses.”
“How could he know we’re coming?” RJ asked, “Nobody tipped him off.”
“Nobody had to. He would’ve sensed that massive surge of power as soon as Isabella put the crown on and known we would sense it and come like sharks drawn to blood.”
“He’s right,” Axel said, “My father’s actions are motivated by greed or paranoia, sometimes both. You’re sure Izzy isn’t being hurt?”
“Not as far as I can tell. I think your father wants to keep her alive and well, though for what purpose, I don’t know.”
“If she’d refused to put the crown on, he would’ve had no use for her, and he would’ve killed her. It’s more likely she made some kind of deal with him.”
“Which means he’s waiting for something,” RJ said, “Ready to pounce as soon as he thinks it’s within reach.”
“I’m truly enjoying this chat,” Karim said, “But as you all say, we’re burning daylight. Or moonlight… we should get a move on.”
“Right,” Becket said, “We have a plan.”
Axel folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s hear it.”
“If Izzy is being kept in a room near the rear of the compound, I’m going to take the Magister, Tribune Dexius, and the Legionnaires, and attack from the front.”
Crickets filled the silence that followed. “Are you kidding me?” Danvers asked, “That’s a stupid plan.”
“It isn’t. Asmodius will be shoring up his defenses, anticipating this attack. That means, he’ll be reinforcing the weak spots around his compound, and not expecting a full-frontal attack.”
“Heh, full frontal,” Karim chuckled.
Danvers elbowed him in the gut. “Quit it, you child.”
“As I was saying,” Becket said, “The attack will force him to divert resources away from the compound’s weak points, which is where you will be striking.”
“Do we even know what the place looks like?” RJ asked.
“Not exactly, so you’ll have to find a way in while we cause a distraction.”
“You realize you’ll be throwing yourselves into the wolf’s mouth, right?” Axel asked, “This won’t be an easily fought battle.”
“I understand. I also think it’s about time I got my hands dirty and did some of the hard work. I’ve been waiting on the sidelines far too long.” Becket’s eyes flashed bright red, emphasizing his intent.
“Tribune Neeve, I want you to go with them,” Eliphas said. “They’ll need a Demonologist handy to suppress the demon attached to Isabella when they make contact with her, and Becket will be too busy coordinating the primary attack to assist.”
Neeve nodded. “Just tell me what I have to do.”
“The demon is under my control,” Becket said, “But it cannot tell me where it is, and I will not be able to get close enough to the compound to sense where it, and Isabella, exactly are. That will be Tribune Neeve’s task.”
Neeve nodded. “I’m up to it.”
“Do I have time for another ciggie?” Karim asked, “My nerves are through the wall.”
Axel cocked an eyebrow. “Later,” he said, “We need to get to Izzy, the sooner the better.”
Karim rolled his eyes. “I suppose you’re right. Come on, then.”
Becket, Eliphas, Dexius and the other Legionnaires watched Axel and his group start pushing through the trees toward the compound.
The walk through the woods was shorter than he’d imagined it would be, probably because he’d spent most of it psyching himself out for war. That’s what this was, after all. War. It wasn’t that he hadn’t done battle with his father and his father’s forces before. He had. What was keeping his mind running in circles was the fact that he had Izzy in a vulnerable position.
One wrong move, one misstep, and Asmodius plunges a dagger into her throat.
The only thing keeping him going, the only nugget of hope he had to cling to, was that Asmodius wanted something from Izzy. Until Asmodius got what he wanted, he would keep her alive. He would do everything he could to keep her alive, and that meant there was still time—even if there wasn’t much.
The attack hadn’t started by the time Axel reached the low, barbed fence surrounding the compound. Axel scanned the area, saw that it was quiet, and went to step over it, but Danvers yanked him back by his elbow.
“Wait,” she hissed. “Don’t.”
Axel stopped. “What is it?”
“The moment you cross over that line, he’ll know.”
“How do you know that?”
“Izzy isn’t the only one who knows a thing or two about wards, remember?”
“What do we do about it?” RJ asked.
Danvers stared at the barbed wire, watching it like it was about to get up and attack. “I can tear it down, but they’ll know we’re coming, and they’ll know where we’re coming from.”
“I sort of feel like Becket should have anticipated this,” Karim said, “Right? Or is that just me?”
“Maybe he did anticipate it,” Neeve said, “And maybe we should walk right through anyway. Let them know we’re coming.”
“Won’t that throw the whole stealthy approach angle off?” Danvers asked.
Neeve pointed across Danvers’ shoulder. Axel looked, and there, walking swiftly across the dirt path leading toward the compound, was the Magistrate. Dark Mages clad in cloaks and hoods moved like shadows with a purpose, and Axel felt the thrill of battle start rising inside of his chest.
He watched Eliphas raise his hand toward the sky, saw the way his fingertips started to glow, saw the way the clouds above churned and roiled. Thunder rumbled, lightning stirred, and an alarm sounded.
The compound’s main gates opened, and four men spilled out—none of them were Asmodius. Three of them trained guns on the Magistrate, while the fourth raised a hand toward Eliphas. Words were exchanged, but it was Becket who fired the first shot.
A bolt of blood red light streaked from his fingertips and striking the Mage in the chest and sending
him crashing to the floor. The other three men holding guns opened fire, but their bullets struck magic shields protecting the Magistrate Mages, the impacts sparking and exploding in little flashes.
“That sounds like our cue,” Neeve said.
RJ walked up to the barbed wire and pulled it apart with his bare hands, making a hole big enough for Axel and the others to step through.
There was no turning back, now.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
At the top of a mighty set of stairs leading out of the water, stood Ashelor—the shining city, only it was different to how I remembered it.
I’d never been here before, but I had dreamt about this place. In that dream, I remembered seeing a lot of whites and golds, perfectly sculpted marble structures, and well-maintained roads. At least, that’s what the city looked like before the dream turned into a nightmare that almost stopped my heart on the spot.
This city, this Ashelor, was somewhere in between.
There was a hint of beauty in the cracked facades and broken marble columns. I could see the impeccable craftmanship that had gone into laying the cobblestone roads at my feet, even if now they were also fractured and smashed, and covered in thick, green weeds that filled the air with their briny, mossy stink. None of the buildings had fallen, each standing defiant in the face of time and the Tempest itself.
But this was no longer the awe-inspiring place it had probably been all that time ago. Now it was a ghost town grown overrun by deep algae, its streets gone silent, its buildings left hollow and empty—like an amusement park that gets shut down but never dismantled, leaving only echoes of the happiness it had once brought to people.
I walked through it almost in a daze, my eyes not quite knowing what particular detail to settle on. Oktos kept a close step behind me, with Ifrit sitting on my shoulder again. Neither being had spoken since we’d set foot in this place. Ifrit didn’t seem so much scared as he was vigilant. Oktos, meanwhile, was trying to be respectful, but even I could sense his fear of this place.
I couldn’t blame him; Ashelor was giving me the creeps, too.
“Why can’t we hear the lightning?” I asked, turning my eyes up at the sky. It was constant, the bright arcs tearing through the grey sky above like they meant to kill the very clouds themselves. But they were silent. No thunder grumbled through the heavens. I couldn’t even hear the ocean.
“Good question,” Oktos said. “I don’t know.”
“It’s eerie… I almost prefer hearing it.”
“I’m not surprised. The lightning, the waves in the water, the currents underneath them, they are the Tempest. They are the lifeblood of this realm, which means they’re your lifeblood too.”
“Is this place trying to keep me from reaching my magic?”
“It’s possible, have you tried calling on your magic?”
I shook my head. “Not since the other night. I tried to use magic, but I felt the Queen breathing down the back of my neck. It was like she was getting closer to me because I was reaching into the Tempest. But I’m here, now, and she’s… not.”
“Try picking up that rock,” Oktos pointed a long, bony finger at a fallen piece of marble the size of a football.
I hesitated. I wanted to lift it, but if using magic brought the Queen closer to me, then risking it wasn’t a good idea. Then again, I was already here. I stretched my hand, called to the Tempest to give me my power, and grabbed the rock with my mind. This time, when lightning struck, I heard it. I felt it inside of my chest, rumbling through me, making my entire body hum.
The marble chunk floated off the ground a few inches. With a quick wave of my hand, I sent the marble hurtling across the street, where it slammed into the cobblestones and started bouncing away. My body tingled, exhilarated at how easy that had been… and still, no Queen.
“I think I’m good,” I said.
“Good,” Oktos said, “I suspect Ifrit and I would be affected well before you lose your powers. Think of us as your canaries.”
“I would rather you didn’t,” Ifrit said.
“Relax. You’re a Guardian, I’m just a guide. If this place really does start affecting us, you can be happy in the knowledge that this canary would go down before you did.”
“Let’s hope neither of you go,” I said, “I need you both.”
I pushed deeper into the city, keeping my eyes peeled for signs of movement in the alleys between buildings, or even in the skies. But Ashelor was dead. Corpse was the word Oktos had used, and corpse was right. It reminded me of a rotting, bloated thing that had been dragged out of the ocean.
I’d seen one once.
I remembered stumbling upon a crime scene on the banks of the east river. Someone had drowned, or had been murdered, I never found out what had happened to them. But I’d happened to catch the body being prepared for transport. I shuddered at the thought, and then something caught my eye.
Not movement, but artwork.
I walked over to the side of a building that looked like it had once been someone’s home. It was two stories’ tall, with many windows, shutters desperately clinging to their hinges, and a door decorated with beautiful golden trimmings that didn’t seem tarnished by time. But none of this was as interesting as the designs on the wall itself.
In my dream I remembered seeing many sigils and markings on the walls, on the doors—the people of Ashelor clearly loved etching designs into their marble surfaces. But many of the icons and much of the artwork I’d seen showed dragons; roaring, soaring dragons. Not once had I seen a drawing of a tentacled creature like the one in front of me right now.
It looked like an octopus or a squid, but it had way too many limbs, eyes, and teeth to be either. “Oktos…” I said, slowly approaching the wall. “What is this?”
Oktos moved closer to the wall and carefully inspected it, his skeletal, bird-like head swaying curiously. I heard something crack, and Oktos suddenly recoiled from the painting, hissing and turning away as if he couldn’t stand to look at it for a second longer.
“What happened?” I asked.
The Psychopomp touched his face, then turned to look at me, slowly. He was nursing one of his eye sockets that looked like it had collapsed into itself, fresh lines of broken bone spidering out in all directions. “Step away from that wall,” Oktos warned, jabbing a finger at the mural.
Figuring I shouldn’t question his warning, I moved away from the wall. “Your face…” I said, “What is that?”
Oktos shook his head. “The result of a careless action. I shouldn’t have gotten so close.”
“But, why? It’s only a picture.”
“It’s more than that. It’s a dedication to Kamos.”
“Kamos?”
Ifrit pointed at the wall. “That is Kamos.”
From where I was standing, I could get a good look at the image etched into the mural. A lot of it was broken, and fractured, but the creature looming large was easy enough to make sense of. Tentacles, eyes, teeth, and now pincers, too. It looked like a cross between a crab, a wolf, and an octopus, dipped in a nightmare, and slapped with an ugly stick.
The image on the mural didn’t only show this creature, though. At the foot of the beast was a large, circular dome, and inside of that dome, structures, houses, spires. That was Ashelor, the shining city, and it looked like this thing was more than twice the size of the entire city.
“What the hell is it?” I asked.
“To even utter the word Kamos, especially inside of the Tempest, is blasphemy. But all of us know about the sunken city, all of us know how it got here, and all of us know the Tempest itself couldn’t destroy it; it could only contain it within itself. It was difficult, trying to process the idea that the Tempest wasn’t the only God in the universe. That’s like finding out you have two fathers and two mothers, instead of just one of each.”
The crown on my head suddenly started to feel much heavier than it had a moment ago. “So, you’re saying this thing on my head has the power of an
other God inside it? The magic that got me here isn’t Tempest magic?”
“The crown is of the Tempest,” Ifrit said, “If it weren’t, the same thing that happened to Oktos could’ve happened to you.”
“But this place,” I trailed off and scanned the immediate neighborhood, “It’s covered in images of Kamos. In my dreams, there were dragons here, not weird crab-squid monsters.”
“The story goes that the drowned Queen didn’t begin dabbling in darker arts until sometime after the city was originally built. Nobody truly knows whether she summoned Kamos from some distant realm or awakened him from eons of slumber. Either way, she must’ve thought she could control it, and for a time she probably did—perhaps while it slowly regained its strength. But then she lost that control, then she lost her mind, and then her city.”
“There’s more to the story,” Ifrit said.
“More?” I asked.
I watched him turn his head slowly, watched his eyes move as they rolled over the neighborhood around us. For a moment—and maybe I was going insane myself—I thought he recognized this place. I had no way of knowing from only looking at his eyes, but Ifrit and I shared a bond, and that bond allowed me this moment of understanding, this glimpse into my Guardian’s mind.
“Ifrit?” I called out to him.
A distant roar pierced the relative silence between us, sending my hackles up.
The sound had been shrill, not like a dragon at all but more like a high-pitched screech. It echoed through the alleys, the streets, bouncing off the walls as it moved. I spun around on the spot, trying to find the source, my heart racing inside of my chest, but nothing was moving; nothing was out of place.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Oktos said, “But I didn’t like the sound of it.”
Another roar, this one closer, and coming from a different direction. I turned to look for the source, and this time I found myself staring at a tight alley between two buildings. It was dark there, light barely reaching the other side of the alley itself. I backed up a step, my entire body tense. Another shriek filled the air, but I was more interested in the low growl coming from the alley in front of me.
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