The communicator he’d snatched in Remaldy went off.
“Speak,” he stated plainly.
“Major,” the voice replied. “We’ve obtained all the gear you requested. It will be at the rally point on the southwest corner of the city. About two clicks from the wall.”
“Good, and the status of the Royal family?”
“All were in the castle for the evening. Even the youngest princes and princesses. With the Gala they were hoping to travel to Remaldy in the morning.”
“I’m sure they were,” Barton sighed.
“Are you sure you don’t need back up?”
“I need to go in by myself. The route I take would be impossible to follow without setting off alarms,” he confessed. “Once I have them, you’ll see. The whole area will alarm as I move them back out. When the alarms sound… take back the city.”
“Hey, Bart, I’m helping you out as a favor.” His old friend Eckert sighed. “You’re not my commander anymore. In fact last time I checked I out rank you.”
“Only because they’re less competition between you married folk. Eckert, I need to do this. Prince Yarin once saved my ass, it’s my time to return the favor.”
“Did you know who he was when you served with him?”
“Not a clue,” Barton lied.
“We’ve made no headway. You’ve got one chance. One. If you’re not signaling glory in thirty minutes I’ll be the one setting off alarms.”
“Understood. I’ll see you at the rally point in about…” Fire stepped on a creaking stair, and he turned quickly. “Give me an hour.”
“One.”
Now what could Barton do with that hour? Many sensual and very distracting thoughts floated through his mind the way Fire floated down the stairs in one of his old shirts.
“I smelled food.” She turned to the kitchen and as if she owned the place, pulled out the dish with breakfast, a plate, and fork. “What happens in an hour?”
She sat at the edge of the table with one leg tucked under her. Dark hair fell covering the side of her face down to her breast. An absent finger tucked it behind her ear and the ice blue of her eyes seized his heart.
“Are you going to tell me?” she placed a bite of food in her mouth.
He watched her reaction, which appeared positive, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from his departure.
“I need to head into Luster.”
“You said we were an hour away. Are you leaving now?”
“I know back roads.”
“Hmm…” Her finger skimmed over the controller so she could see the surveillance videos. Harvester’s Island had still been evacuating injured as of thirty minutes ago. Using flyers and boats to evacuate to safe cities far from the ports had become cumbersome. “They gave up so easy.”
“Hundreds died. I wouldn’t say that was easy.”
“He must be gone then,” she sniffed.
“Who?”
“The Crown Prince. That’s why they went to the island. He’s unmated. They wanted him.”
“Who told you that?”
“I figured it out when you left. That’s the only thing that made sense. Not that I’ve been in the middle of battle, but it seemed they were trying to find one person. I thought they’d poisoned him, but none of those in isolation admitted to being royalty, not that they should.”
“What makes you so certain? Did Gonnerth admit something?”
“No, but if they kill the royal line then we’d have to find new leadership. I’ve seen it done on my hospital’s board. It shouldn’t have because with turnover after each Gala we lose a few board members each year, but a few years ago a group of younger professionals decided they could run it for decades the way they wanted.”
“So they rounded up the board and killed them all?” he mocked.
“Blackmail. They’re elected positions, not blood related. One of my friends was on the board. If she didn’t step down they had dirt on her that would have forced her into being a cleric. Luckily she found her mate at the Gala so their efforts were for naught.”
“Or she grabbed the first guy she could and got married to escape.”
Fire stared at him as recognition settled across her face. She was naïve enough to believe in love.
“I… I… I… never considered… hopefully she’s not married to Lawsen.”
“Who?”
“The Level One.”
“Oh.” Barton picked up their plates and placed them in the sink. “How do you know so much about the royal family?”
“I’m a traditionalist, both my brother and I are named for the royal family.”
“Your name is Sariah?”
“No, I was not born within the five years necessary by hard and fast believers. I was named for the Queen.”
“Wait, people really name their children after the Princes and Princesses?”
“Yes, if they are born within five years of their birth. Otherwise, they chose the sitting Crown.”
“What if they have kids every few years?”
“Then they go back generations. If the King would have had siblings it would be easier, but as it is, the fact he didn’t means the Ascendency can wipe out one family and take out all claims to the throne.”
Barton hadn’t considered more than the fact his family was in danger. They were holding them to draw him out. People would riot if part of the family was murdered, but if all of them were killed at once the citizens would be listless in search of a rudder to give them direction. Now he was torn. How long could the Ascendency hold his family? If he walks in there it could be the last thing he ever does.
“Barton? Are you okay?”
“Abigail.” Her name came off his tongue in such a way he wanted to hold it and roll it around like a sweet treat. She blushed at the mention of her given name like it was her last layer of protection. “I need to go and rescue the royal family.”
“Not by yourself.”
“I cannot take other soldiers with me.”
“Fuck the other soldiers. You are my claimed.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“It… it… it means you… you… you cannot go into danger without me.”
“Really?” he leaned back in his chair and let her get flustered; if nothing else it was adorable. “What of the married soldiers who helped us in Remaldy? Their spouses were no where to be found.”
“Well… well… you… you… you said they have horrible marriages and… well… I… I…” Abigail’s arms flailed as she searched for a way to stick it to Barton. Surely somewhere deep down inside she’d be able to pull something out, and he couldn’t wait to hear it. “I… love you and you me.”
“I will come back for you,” he assured as he grasped her hands and brought them to rest on the table. “The last thing I want is to leave, but I couldn’t live in a world where you didn’t have the king and queen you treasure so.”
“Take me with you.”
There was no stutter this time. Her chin did not quiver in fear.
“Can you wield a weapon?”
“I can fake it,” she confessed, then straddled him. “Take me with you. You don’t know the injuries they may of sustained. I will be of use. I can’t lose you. Not when I just found you. The first two years I attended the Gala I did not go in search of a mate, but I entered the castle this year and your scent drew me. I was ready for love and the first man to draw me was you. That wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t me settling, it was me giving into the process. Women have forgotten and no longer believe, but I don’t. You are my mate. Had it be a millennium ago I would have crossed deserts, mountains and a sea to find you.”
****
Abby didn’t understand her need to go into war, but she did know if Barton went alone he’d never come back. How she knew it she couldn’t say, but he was her claimed and no longer would she stay on the sideline of war. Whatever the reason for the fight she would help Barton in his mission. He must be a great soldier to
have been granted the right to extract the Nurils.
Soldier’s uniforms gave little to the imagination. Barton strapped himself as the armor melded to his form. She couldn’t understand how her desire overpowered every thought when in Barton’s presence, but she hoped it would heighten her drive to protect him if the occasion should arise.
Cutting through the wooded area on a trail meant for walking led to a bumpy ride on a speeder. Soon she saw a clearing ahead and just beyond it the tall stone wall surrounding a city which grew up instead of out to maintain the stone borders. Past the wall were large glass buildings with blue and black panes reflecting the rising sun. The castle wasn’t at the center of the city as one would assume, instead by the edge backing up toward the forest they’d just cut through. Layered like a wedding cake its fifteen columns created stair steps to the tallest column in the center.
“Commander,” Barton called as he pulled to a spot at the edge of the clearing on the forest side.
“Major,” the man called back. “I thought you said only one could go in?”
“Long story.”
“I suppose, especially for an unclaimed.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily say I was unclaimed… more unconsecrated.”
The man looked Abby over as she removed the helmet she’d been wearing and placed it on the seat.
“Well now… I see you finally changed your belief system when it comes to the Gala.”
“Possibly.” Barton scooped up a pack and placed it on his back, then turned to Abby who steeled herself. The last thing she was going to do was speak—not with her inability to grasp words when under pressure.
The two lovers jumped into a ditch that had a slight stream of water at its apex. Straddling the water they ran along the base until they arrived at a hole in the wall.
“This was easier when I was nine,” Barton growled as he attempted to squeeze in the tight space.
On their hands and knees they crawled past three side openings. Barton then sat back and curled his legs. With a snap his feet smashed against part of the rock wall only to have it crumble away. Again Barton’s massive body became an obstacle.
“Okay,” he sighed and pulled back from the small opening. “I need you to go in first.”
“Go in where? What the hell is this?”
“An old sewage system, no longer in use. It mostly collects rain water.”
“There were three large openings back there. Wouldn’t that be easier than… I don’t know, breaking down a random wall?”
“See this?” Barton pointed to a set of triangles carved on either side of where he broke through. “I carved them when my parents had this hole covered. On the other side it’s easier to break through. Trust me, they refilled it so many times the masons finally conceded and told me how to break through and reseal without them knowing.”
“Your parents have some pull.” Abby sized up the hole and her ability to become the size necessary. Using her hands she attempted to measure the tiny space. If she shifted her shoulders just right she might make it through. “Are you sure you’re just not sticking me in here to get rid of me?”
“There’s an idea. I wish I had a mind as evil as yours. Damn, I could have just locked you in a closet if I wanted to leave you behind. You wanted to come along, be useful.”
“Fine,” she grumbled and put her arms and hands in first so they could pull her through.
The wall scratched against her arms, and, when she filled the opening with her body, she was in complete darkness. Reaching in front of her she searched for ground or a wall, but found none. For all she knew she was right above an abyss. Barton placed his hands on her buttock, and she wondered why until she felt a shove.
“Stop,” she screamed and kicked her legs.
“I’d suggest quieting down. The halls echo.”
“Halls?” she spat, but kept her voice in a harsh whisper. “What halls?”
“Trust me.” He shoved again, and she fell forward fast and was sure she was about to die.
Barton caught both of her feet. Her heart raced and her head swam. Hanging upside down by her feet was slightly out of her comfort zone. What was she thinking? Follow a soldier into a surgical extraction?
“Put your hands out in front of you.”
A small sliver of light cut through the hole. In front of her was a floor. With her hands in front Barton lowered her until she touched down and rolled onto the floor. It had been less than a foot below her. How many times in one day could she feel like a fool?
“You could have warned me.”
“Yeah, but I like making you squeal.”
“You have a sick sense of humor.” Barton’s face was right at the opening of the hole. “Now right below me should be a brick that looks out of place. Then two more on each side. They’ll slide right out when pulled.”
“I can’t see a thing.”
Barton disappeared, and for a moment Abby panicked again. “Catch.” A small light flew through the opening.
“These aren’t easy,” she growled, pulling on the first brick.
“I could pull them out at nine… just sayin’.”
“Something tells me your biceps…” she grunted and pulled out the first brick. “Were the size of my thigh at age nine.” The second brick moved easier and a few rocks fell away.
Barton popped his head through the larger opening, but his shoulders were still too broad to get through. He backed out, then his hand came through and he attempted to reach the last brick. Abby crossed her legs and sat.
“How long you wanna do that for? Just give me an estimate.”
“Fine… help me.”
Abby pulled on the brick. The rocks and Barton fell toward her and he slid on top of her, trapping her once again.
“That never happened when I was nine.” He kissed her lightly. “I might have put up a fuss to stay if it had.”
Brushing off the dust Abby and Barton stood, and she shone her light to see they were in a triangular opening. On one side was a thin opening with rocks from the wall on one side and brick from a home on the other.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Well see, most houses linked to royalty have an outer layer for escape. This,” Barton placed his hand on the rocks. “Is the wall people think is part of the foundation of the castle.”
“But it’s really the brick?” Abby asked as she placed her hand on the other side.
“Yes. And that,” Barton shone a light down the long opening. “Is a backdoor of sorts. It’s supposed to be taken from the other end, but, well… here’s the hard part,” Barton said. “When I was nine there were sensors at different levels every four steps. I assume it will be every two now.”
“You don’t know if they upgraded?”
“I grew.”
“How wild were you as a child?”
Barton didn’t answer as he rolled a small device down the corridor. Smoke escaped, but not enough to choke them, just enough to show blue lines crisscrossing the space. They weren’t stationary. At what seemed random intervals they shifted, high to low.
“You got a lot bigger,” Abby sighed.
“Yeah, I guess I didn’t realize how much.” Barton stared down the corridor, then eyed Abby.
“Oh… I…”
“Yes you can,” he said, stopping her thoughts. “The rhythm I used was to Rock a Two, do you know that song?”
“Yes,” she shook. “How does that help?”
“The beat… Mama had a baby, rock a bye, rock a bye.” Barton clapped his hand to the beat. “Mama had another, rock a bye, rock a bye.” Abby began to rock her feet back and forth as if she had a baby in her arms. “Two babies for Mama, rock a two, rock a two.”
Barton bounced his head with her, and before she knew what had happened he pushed her toward the corridor and gave her a small communicator. Abby’s heart beat distracted from the rhythm she was trying to keep. Her face flushed as the stumbled with the nursery rhyme her mother had sung to her
and Kevin as youngsters.
“Mama had a baby…” her voice trembled as she stepped forward. The high blue light cut above her head. “Rock a bye, rock a bye. Two babies for Mama, rock a two, rock a two.” Her chest seized and she didn’t have breath to sing the song. Not sure what to do, she froze.
“Only a Mama’s arms,” Barton sang, and her foot moved. “Can rock a two, rock a two.” Another few steps. “Mama’s arms are as full as her heart, rock a two, rock a two. Mama loves her babies, rock a two, rock a two.”
Abby let out a loud gasp and attempted to recover.
“One more time.” Barton’s voice carried across the corridor.
It wasn’t one more time, it was three. By the end of the second time around she gained the confidence to go by herself. She really didn’t have a choice; Barton was out of earshot. After she stood on the other end of the corridor she looked for him. A buzz in her pocket reminded her of the communicator. She placed it in her ear and answered.
“I’m through.”
“You good? I don’t see any red lights.”
“Me neither.”
“Good, now on your left hand side as you face the corridor you should see a panel. Touch it.”
Abby brought her small light up and found the panel. When she touched the screen it came alive. Symbols came up in three by three squares.
“I hope you know a little of the cuneiform from our past.”
“Oh my god, that was my minor in college.”
“Really?”
“No, who studies a dead language?”
“Someone who wants to save their royal line.”
“You can give me the spot on the grid.”
“The grid shifts, you have to know the code. Alright, the first symbol looks like an eye.”
“Got it.”
“Second is a triangle. Third is a circle with lines cutting through it.”
“Which way?”
“What?”
“There are three circles. How many lines?”
“It’s the symbol for youth… a lot.”
“You’re so descriptive.” Abby was about to push the one she thought was right. “Um… Barton, what happens if I push the wrong one?”
Mask of Fire Page 8
