Chapter 21
Canis Rayne, Beatrix Thorne, and Vann Xan checked the alleys and crevices, the doorways and holes chipped into walls, in pantries and cupboards, in the shriveled plants and shrubs of rooftop gardens. It was tedious but they helped the terrified citizens of Blackrose hiding in any place possible to avoid the fracas in the streets. In many ways, the division of Blackrose hadn’t changed at all, only the object of their fear.
The old territorial hatreds still lingered beneath the surface as people punched and kicked, scratched, or spat at their rescuers. Then there was that look. That look people gave Canis as they tried to fit body and face to deeds done, voice and intention, axe and hand. All I want to do is help them. But it didn’t last long, the promise of safety and rescue, cooling the fires of their hostility. Each one was sent to Mortalo’s citadel, a place they would be safe. Canis had tried being nice, but people didn’t understand “nice.” Bane fueled thoughts of Mortalo and his ability to lead. If I can emulate him in some ways and not in others, I think we might have a chance.
“If you don’t let us help you,” Canis said to a cowering middle-aged man who was wedged into the corner, “you’re never going to make it. What’s your name?”
The man’s mouth hung open, still quivering after the first slap Canis had given him. “It’s Belloch Storme.”
Canis kneeled to eye level. “And we both know you want to live, don’t you, Belloch?”
He nodded.
“That’s a good attitude to have.” He looked inside the dark building and ripped an exposed iron bar from the wall. “Take this. Get to Mortalo’s citadel. There are others waiting there. Don’t move for anybody except me. Understand?”
He nodded again, faster than before, and ran out. Canis stood tall.
Another one saved. Another soul pulled out of the abyss.
He strolled to meet Vann and Thorne.
“Any trouble?” Thorne asked.
“None at all.”
“Do you think we’ve sent enough people to the citadel?” Vann asked. “We’ve blanketed two Companies now and sent runners to the others.”
“It’s a start. Once they get to our brothers.”
“How’s your, eh, passenger?” Thorne asked.
Canis shut his eyes and thought for a moment. “He’s being pretty quiet, but he is keen for me to act like Mortalo.”
Thorne scowled. “What do you mean by that?”
“Not what you think. I’m just worried I’m not fit to lead. If I act like Mortalo, then maybe I can get some respect?”
“You can’t trust it. Be yourself. They’ll follow if they want to survive. Right now, the safest place in the city is by your side. Keep your enemies close and all that.”
“Thanks.” Canis lowered his head. “I need to separate my thoughts from Bane’s.”
“Well, we’re almost at the center, so make sure it’s behaving.” Thorne looked around at the empty streets, not even the chittering of the Scourge to be heard. “Do you find this strange?”
Vann looked around as well. “What?”
“There’s no one here.”
“It’s not strange.” Vann shook his head. “You and your girls did lots of hiding, from what Canis told me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I can sense when someone is hiding or watching. I did it my entire life. No, this is something different.”
“So, we’ve rescued everyone here?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t like it.” She shuddered. “Let’s not hang around.”
“Let’s keep our voices down from now on,” Canis said. He scanned across the rooftops and focused on one building, higher than the rest. “That one,” he whispered.
They moved into the alley beside it. The three of them grappled along the side, clinging to exposed stone and digging their heels into the crevices for footing.
Canis oriented himself as he clambered onto the roof. From there, he saw everything, and yet nothing at all. The streets still looked deserted—no thieves lingering in the shadows. He looked to the center where a Warden-size doorway sat at the bottom of a slight incline. A gear—covering most of the door’s surface—rotated centrally, whilst smaller, symmetrical gears on either side moved with it on panels of silver. The center and the Wardens were like a beacon of authority; their precious metals and secrets having been beyond reach for centuries.
Canis was safe in the shadows, he thought, but the center of Blackrose, the building where only Wardens dared go, mocked him, the gears on the door like an eye, unblinking. It pulsated to the beat of its heart, mother to the machines.
“Must be where they come in and out,” he whispered. “It’s the only door big enough for one of them.”
Thorne stood. “Then that’s where we go in?”
Canis pulled her back by her arm. “We can’t knock on their front door and expect them to let us in.”
“You have a better idea?” She smiled.
“I’m the one who had a run-in with a Warden and stood against it. We’re doing what I say.” Canis glared at Thorne, her smile fading. She looked at his belly.
“What about that?” Vann asked.
He pointed to a small, narrow vent at the base of the clock tower, where it met its support building. Steam floated out of the impenetrable, faceless block of metal at the center of the city, the vapor rising out of it like the vents on the Wardens.
“It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do,” Canis said. “But first, I need to eat. Agrim has had at least two more meals than me.”
Canis scanned the rooftop. His companions dug through the dirt for potatoes and roots. He got onto his knees and pulled out a pale green shoot from the ground. The soil was soft, and the smell reminded him of outside. Bane sent a buzz of calm through his body, but before it could begin to take over his thoughts, Canis’ hunger gnawed away at him and he dug into the dirt with both hands. He uncovered a vegetable of unknown edibility. It was yellow and covered in soil. Canis rammed it into his mouth. It tasted like the inside of an abscess. Small bits of stone ground on his teeth. Thorne and Vann did the same.
His knees ached as he rose from the ground. He spat the remaining dirt from his mouth and went to the edge of the roof-garden. And, although the buildings were close together, he dared not look as he hoisted himself up, ready to start their trek to the center.
He traced the path to the vent and navigated across the garden-rooftops. They slowed at every gap, shifting their momentum and checking the distance before they leaped. Thorne skipped across the roofs without trouble. Canis swore he heard her giggle as they struggled. I wish I could hear her laugh more often, he thought as he sighed, caught in a moment.
“Winded already?” she whispered back.
“We don’t run,” Vann said. “We fight.”
They ran and jumped over two dozen roofs before hunkering into the street nearest to the entrance. They waited, expecting the door to burst open, a stream of Wardens ready and eager to cut them to pieces for the intrusion. Canis looked up and to his side, the metal building filling the full scope of his vision, the cogs on the door bigger than any Warden he had seen.
The clock tower rang. He had been expecting it, counting between each one, but it was so loud being right next to the tower, it caused him to screw up his face in pain. Bane thrashed inside him. He shook his head to clear the momentary fog.
“Give me a hand. I can climb these cogs and get to the top,” Thorne said, hand on chest.
Canis and Vann put their hands together into a platform and lifted Thorne. They looked into each other’s eyes. Canis saw Vann felt the same way about Thorne as he was starting to, but he knew—could feel—Bane was stroking the thoughts. If Bane wanted it, Bane tried to get it. He looked at her like a possession, as if she were meant to be his.
They lifted her, and she pried the vent cover off and glanced in from a distance.
“Do you see anything?” Canis asked.
“No.”
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“We’re right behind you.”
Canis got a running start and floundered up the wall in two long strides, gripping the bottom of a cog. Thorne pulled him the rest of the way, her strength adding to her allure. Vann managed to climb the side of the building by himself, his hands and legs finding homes in the ridges and bumps of the machine building. Canis untied the cloak from around his neck. He remembered the pride surging through him when Mortalo had dressed him for the first time and hesitated before handing it to Thorne.
“Wrap it around you,” he said. “It will keep the steam from your skin long enough to get you through. If not, you’ll be burned.”
“Canis!” Thorne said. “What will you protect yourself with?”
“See if you can turn whatever it is off. If not, I’ll burn. Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself.”
Thorne smiled, but it was half a smile, and Canis got the urge to push her in. Get on with it.
His head was a mix of thoughts, feelings and ideas. A moment ago, Thorne’s laugh gave him hope, but now there was no emotion as he looked at her. Just another human…I can’t keep doing this, Bane. If I can’t control my own thoughts, what’s the point of being alive? He waited a moment for the parasite to reply. Nothing.
Thorne crawled through the opening and then dropped in. She didn’t scream, made no noise at all. The Warden’s building was made from metal, the same silver panels from the machines decorating it. He put his hand on the surface to try to feel any vibrations, any hint that the Wardens were there. The hum of the city’s heart beat in tune with his, the generator continuing its immortal consumption of souls. The panel was hot, and he had to take his hand off.
A prolonged click filtered through the vent and the steam evaporated. Thorne, a red speck of hair below, waved up at him. She stood by a machine bolted to the wall and shrugged. Canis and Vann squeezed through. More machines attached to the wall enabled them to climb down. Canis followed its wires to the door, and when they were close enough to the floor, they jumped. Their feet hit and the sound slapped off the walls inside the cavernous space.
The heart thudded around them, coming from everywhere at once. The inside was vast with smooth, angular walls. Canis felt like an insect, his neck craned. Thorne grabbed his hand and pulled him along, out of his awe and back to business.
They sped through the corridors, looking over their shoulders and around every corner, mindful of the Wardens that could come thundering through, following the vibrations, seeking their source.
The massive halls weren’t built with humans in mind. Canis, the near giant, was dwarfed by the high, spacious ceilings. The inside felt like an extension of the Wardens themselves, the same silver from parts of their armor popping up on machines that seemed to have no meaning but had been bolted to the walls. Mortalo had told him the Wardens, the technology they had, was not part of this world anymore, lost in time. A lost symbol of power no longer under anyone’s control. He remembered the mock silver of his master’s armor. You always thought you were better than everyone else, didn’t you?
He noticed smaller passageways, human-sized, but no light filtered down those corridors and cobwebs hung overhead like dusty veils.
Every twenty feet or so a dull, green light filtered through a silver slot at the bottom of the wall, casting flickering shadows on the walls and distorting their vision. The pulsating waves of sound soon blended into a wall of indistinguishable white noise, and they lost their way in the labyrinth. It was as if the Wardens watched them, the same light of their eyes leading them into obscurity.
They travelled through a series of double-backs and intersections, weaving deeper and deeper into the complex. The pounding grew louder as the light got brighter. An archway hung high above them. They stood on a small mezzanine, above rows and rows of dormant, supine Wardens, all hooked and wired into the giant, churning dynamo. The low frequency of the thing rumbled away, shaking the loose wax from his ears and rattling his bones in place. Canis jumped the short distance, and the others followed.
“What are they doing?” Vann whispered.
“Sleeping, it looks like,” Thorne said.
Canis followed the pipes and wires straight into the steam engine. “They’re all attached to this.” He held out his hand, the air around the thing was hot, scorching. “Whatever it is, it’s giving off a lot of heat.”
Around the outside of the room, large cylinders sat against the wall, giving out the same intensity as the massive machine in the center. The neon green pulsated from within the containers.
“What do you think these things are?” Vann asked. “They look like souls.”
Canis touched one of them. It was warm but not hot. “It’s like they’re storing the energy. There are so many of them. Maybe this is where the souls of the dead really do end up.”
“We’ve all been living in the dark,” Thorne whispered. “We lost three girls to the cold last year, and these things just keep feeding off the energy.”
Canis’ thoughts drifted back to his time in the cooler; his dried, blistered skin, blackening around the edges from frostbite, his mind burned on mooncap, back when Mortalo was still training him, back when he was still alive.
Vann tiptoed, backing away from the heat when he got too close. “If we could redirect it back into the soul lines, the people would want for nothing. We could grow food indoors during the winter. Think about it.” His gaze locked onto one of the sleeping Wardens. “Canis, look!”
Canis and Thorne looked to the Warden Vann observed. The thing had a panel missing from its leg, possibly sustained from the earlier fight at the tower. With minute vibrations, the material stretched into thin tubes, bridging the gap and knitting itself back together.
“That’s incredible,” Thorne murmured.
“It is,” Canis said. “Such power.” He lost focus and his gaze went straight through the machine.
Vann grabbed him by the shoulder. “Canis, do you think this could heal you? I mean, get that thing out of you?”
“It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but I suppose.”
“Canis,” Bane said. “These things have been corrupted by the Fallen. The metal of this place is messing with my attempt to commune with them, but I can feel their murderous, treasonous thoughts. I can hear them skittering inside. We should stay here and see what they do. The more information we have, the easier it will be to counter them.”
He ignored Bane, ignored the thing’s attempt to place him in the clutches of the Fallen Wardens for the second time. He saw the parasites himself, shifting inside the Wardens, thin limbs and mucus stretched over cogs and wires. I have no desire to get caught between two of them.
The dynamo slowed, and its vibrations deepened. Canis looked at the Warden that had just undergone repairs. The fingers twitched and shook. Another joined in, rattling in place. Then another. Then another. The wires and tubes popped as they groaned and whined. Canis couldn’t see any other exits, the Wardens too big and too many. With a snap-glance over his shoulder, he turned.
“They’re waking!” Thorne said.
“We have to go!” Canis said.
He charged through his comrades and vaulted back up the mezzanine. He tensed, Bane’s attempt to keep him there of no concern, his own fear fueling his body before the parasite did.
The others followed him as he tore through the rumbling complex. Bane pointed Canis along with subtle hints as to which of the numerous doors could be the right way, but Canis learned to go the opposite. He didn’t know what game it was playing, and he didn’t want to.
They got to the vent. Canis heard the rhythmic, plodding sound of enormous footsteps echoing through the halls and shaking the floor beneath. It felt as if all the walls were connected, and his knees wobbled with the vibration.
He pushed Vann and Thorne onto the machine controlling the doors. They were climbing toward the vent as a colossus rounded the corner at the far end of the corridor. It crashed th
rough, gathering speed with every step. Canis stared at it, still gaining speed, five strides away.
I’ll kill it. They killed Mortalo, and so I shall kill them.
Four strides and gaining.
“Canis! What are you doing?” Vann screamed from the vent above.
Two strides.
He shook his head and realized what he was doing. He scrambled up the device and leaped the distance. He stretched for his brother’s hand. Vann fell back and yanked Canis through with Thorne’s help. The Warden screeched after the escaped prey.
Thorne led them to an alley to their right, and they dove into the shadows. “We have to get on the roof-garden above.”
They followed her through the darkness and climbed the ridges of a stone building nearby. Canis’ fingernails bent back as he tried to gain a hold, but he ground his teeth and levered himself up. Vann waited for him at the top, and they ran toward the next house, their feet crushing plants.
They vaulted across the roofs again, and Canis heard the gear-driven door being forced open by the mechanical titan, screaming, chugging in the darkness. Thorne got ahead of them, and they lost sight of her in the forest of twisted stone. The thing stomped between the buildings, not cracking a single slab on them.
Canis and Vann cleared another gap, but as they landed, a pair of hands grabbed them, pulling them into cover. The walls had been partially built, windows set into them; the remains of an actual roof were still intact.
“Get down and shut up!” Thorne whispered through her teeth.
The Warden’s pace slowed as it threaded its form between the structures, its glowing eyes squinting as it looked into every hole and crevice.
“If I can get close to the Warden…What am I missing?” Bane said.
Canis felt as if he spied on the parasite, somehow privy to its thoughts for the first time without it knowing. Bane hissed as it caught on to Canis.
They pressed themselves beneath a window, into a blind spot. The Wardens touched the roof, making the supports creak. The mechanical beast turned away and trudged in the opposite direction, through the narrow streets, peering into the other buildings as it passed.
A Thousand Eyes Page 13
