Chasm Walkers

by Raquel Byrnes

  21

  Hunley shook in my grasp, eyes wide, lips opening and closing silently.

  I shook my head, calm ebbing along my limbs as the power of Solenium moved through me.

  “You…promised,” Hunley rasped.

  The other scientists tried to flank me, but I shifted, wrapping my forearm around Hunley’s neck and using her as a shield in front of me. I held the sizzling baton up, letting it flare between us. “Look at the railing,” I said calmly nodding to the deformed metal on the bed. “Her throat will crush like an egg in my hands.” I jerked us to make a point, eliciting a yelp from Hunley that stopped them in their tracks.

  “Charlie, I know you are in shock from being in that chamber,” Ashton said. He inched closer, favoring his leg, but still much more agile than I’d anticipated. “They should not have done that to you. But you are safe now. We can talk about this calmly.”

  “I will not be at anyone’s mercy anymore.” I backed up until the edge of the control panel was at my back. “No one will be injured if I receive the whole dose of Solenium. Then we talk.”

  “Do what she is asking, Prudence,” Ashton said evenly. He took another step towards me, and I shot him a warning look. Hands up, he stopped moving.

  “Are you mad?” Kirkland squeaked. “Look at what she can do at a fourth of the dose!”

  “I said she was monster,” Gustav said in broken English. “We should have left them to freeze.”

  “Monster,” I repeated, using the time to glance at the panel of dials and levers. “You are using afflicted men and women, most likely people you knew, as an alarm system? What? Do you thaw them and freeze them at will? Might as well make use of the walking meat?”

  Hunley stiffened in my grasp, her sharp intake of breath a tell. She had not known about that.

  Gustav’s gaze slid away.

  Ah…dissent in the ranks.

  “W-what?” Hunley struggled to speak.

  I lessened my grip, subtly maneuvering her closer to the bank of buttons.

  “Your entrance tunnel is strewn with the decaying remains of your fellow inhabitants,” I explained, sizing up Gustav. He was big, but had proven slow. How much trouble would he be now that he had time to plan an assault? “They were frozen to the walls and floor still in their uniforms until someone turned the heat up.”

  “You didn’t,” Hunley cried, her body shaking in my arms. “How—”

  “They are at least a help to us,” Gustav said, his face going red. “How should I bury them in the snow. It is hard as rock to dig.”

  “How did the nurse get it?” I asked, gauging Hunley’s response. “She seemed…fresher than the others.”

  Hunley slumped, and I thought for a moment she had fainted.

  “Charlie, that’s enough,” Ashton’s voice was edged with steel. His gaze snapped to the door and back again. A warning. The knob was turning slightly.

  “You p-put Sylvia out there?” Hunley’s voice was full of pain. “How could you do that to them? After all they’ve endured.”

  Ashton nodded towards the door. It had cracked open a bit.

  I sighed, a rescue attempt must be under way. I wondered if Hunley had hit some sort of alarm. Pulling down on the muscle behind my eye, the lens popped into place bringing the two pale and gaunt faces at the door into tight focus. And man and woman, both visibly shaken, wielding what looked like kitchen knives. “The Decatur had over fifty people aboard, did it not?” I whispered to Hunley.

  “W-what?” Hunley’s body tensed. “What did you say?”

  “How many survived me?” I nodded to the opening door of the lab. “They were a trained air ship crew.”

  “Tell them to fall back,” Ashton ordered. “Now, Hunley.”

  “Go, go,” Hunley called with a cracking voice. “Do not come in.”

  They hesitated for a moment, but the door eased shut quietly.

  “Lock it, will you, Wells?” I said to Ashton. He limped over, twisting the bolt and securing the door with a chair for good measure.

  I turned to Gustav and Kirkland, motioning with my baton.

  “Get in the box.”

  “What?” Kirkland shook where he stood, his gaze going to Ashton.

  “Do not be alarmed,” I said and turned the dial I had seen Hunley use. The glass partition slid up the rest of the way to the ceiling. “I will not freeze you. I am not the monster here,” I said to Gustav. “Go on, you must know how it works. It was not built just for me, I am sure.”

  Kirkland moved towards the chamber, but Gustav crossed his arms, refusing to move. He would be trouble.

  “Get in the box,” I repeated, eyeing Kirkland, who was now cowering within its metal confines.

  “Gustav, please,” Hunley cried.

  “She will kill us all as I warned,” he said, not moving.

  “I just want to level the battlefield,” I said. “Five against one is hardly fair and you lot have proven you are not trustworthy, not even to each other.”

  Ashton remained by the door, his body tensed, coiled as he watched the interplay.

  Gustav shook his head. “No,” he shouted. His shoulders shifted, hands balling at his sides, ready to pounce.

  I had to act. In one motion I tossed Hunley to the side, slammed my palm down on the chamber’s button to release the door to trap Kirkland, and flew at Gustav.

  They reacted in slow motion. Not the fluid, drawn-out delay I experienced with the Trembler Knights up in Outer City at full power, but a hitching, jerking version of delayed movements.

  Hunley suspended mid-fall at first, and then hitting the floor with speed. The chamber door sliding with aching slowness one moment, slamming into place the next. And Gustav, fists barely coming up as he lumbered towards me, my baton already swiping his feet from under him. He hovered in the air a second before falling, giving me time to help him to the ground with a downward strike to his ample gut as he went. It happened in the fleeting instant it took Ashton to make it halfway across the room. I turned, stopping him with the tip of my upraised baton, my body quaking with the harnessed trembling of my affliction. “I am done,” I panted, holding his gaze. “I stopped.”

  He searched my face, body coiled, before nodding. He took a ragged breath, his expression a mixture of relief and worry.

  Blinking, I clicked the lens from my vision.

  “I’ll watch him,” he said finally, glancing at Gustav. He pulled a length of wire from a nearby table and used it to truss up the big man like a dinner goose.

  Relief flooded me. I had not been entirely sure of his reaction and let out a breath I did not realize I had been holding. Depressing a button on my baton with my thumb, I strode to Hunley as it ratcheted back into itself. Standing over her, I extended my hand, palm up. “You know what I want.”

  She glared at me, her lip somehow bloody, and pointed to a locked cabinet. “It is in there.”

  “Get it.” I tried to help her up, but she batted my hand away, rising with difficulty on her leg. I realized she had fallen on it and a sliver of remorse pierced my focus.

  Retrieving the bottle, she handed it to Ashton along with a metal syringe.

  “That is all that we have.” She hobbled over to an upturned stool, righted it, and sat down rubbing her thigh. “I did not anticipate her reaction before. I do not know if it will happen again.”

  “It won’t.” Ashton filled the syringe, set the empty vial down, and walked up to me, his face an unreadable mask. “It only happens when she is almost completely depleted.”

  “So, this has happened before?” I asked, turning my back to him and lifting my hair as if he were about to place a pretty necklace instead of injecting the device on my spine. “This slowing and almost dying?”

  “Once, after a major battle, yes. Arecibo pushed you to your breaking point to see how much you could take. The replenishing was painful. I watched him do it.”

  “Why did it happen?” I asked Hunley.

  “No idea.” She shrugged.
“It is not supposed to burn through. Arecibo must have changed the composition. I would have had to study it, but there is none in your system anymore. None that is uncontaminated by what I gave you, at least.”

  “Are you saying the Solenium I had in my system before is different than what you just injected? How is that possible?”

  Hunley did not answer. Her gaze shot to Ashton, a knowing look that did not bode well.

  I swayed on my feet, no longer able to hide that a quarter of a dose was barely enough to fuel a last-ditch burst.

  Ashton steadied me. He leaned in, whispering. “I knew you were pushing it.” His lips moved against my temple, a familiar feeling of his words against my skin. “A little warning next time?”

  “What did Hunley mean?”

  “First things first, Charlie,” Ashton murmured.

  His fingers were warm on my neck as he felt for the device and inserted the needle. The frigid path of the Solenium snaked down the length of my back and splayed outward, infusing my arms and legs with strength.

  Hunley’s piercing gaze never left mine. She shook her head as I drew in a gasp of air, my body shaking with power.

  Ashton stepped away, dropping the syringe on a metal tray and easing down on a chair. His leg was bleeding again.

  I rubbed my neck, felt the cold slick of some escaped Solenium on my fingers, and glanced at it. Silvery, almost iridescent, the liquid seemed to move oddly. As if it did not obey the laws of fluid. Wiping my hand on my skirts, I turned to Hunley. “Now,” I said and set my baton down. “We can talk.”

  “Talk…” Hunley scowled. “About what? You have what you wanted, yes? That is why Wells brought you here. To replenish?”

  “That is what I want to talk about.” I picked up the empty bottle of Solenium. “This is more closely guarded than the governors’ silver. How do you have such a large quantity? Did you steal it from the sea mines?”

  Hunley shook her head, biting her lip before she spoke. “No, those mines are inaccessible without the proper equipment and even then, the shifting rocks and geysers make it nearly impossible if you don’t freeze to death first.”

  “Then how?” I caught another glance between Hunley and Ashton and my stomach flopped. “And why was the chemical in my system different from what was in that syringe?”

  “Arecibo made a lot of changes after I left. Steps to assure your dependence on him. To make sure you returned to him to keep living.” Ashton rubbed his face with a shaking hand. “That is what I gather, anyway. My sources inside have dried up.”

  “Where did Hunley get this Solenium then?”

  “It is complicated,” Ashton said finally.

  “Tell me.” I looked at both of them.

  “We harvest it,” Hunley said finally.

  “I do not understand.” I shook my head.

  She walked over to the bank of controls, depressing a button and setting off a cacophony of grinding metal. The wall next to Kirkland’s chamber moved, a partition shifting as three additional metal panels slid upwards revealing forms moving within a misty enclosure.

  My stomach knotted.

  Ashton’s jaw ground as he held my gaze. “It is the only other source, Charlie.”

  I stepped to the glass, peering in. A hand slammed against the divider, and I reeled backward in shock. Blue, and still encased in the armor of The Order, a Trembler Knight’s quaking visage emerged from the vapor. My gaze snapped to Ashton and then to Hunley, suddenly sick to my stomach. “When you said you harvest it.” I licked my lips, not wanting to accept what I saw. “You mean you—”

  “We take it,” Hunley said evenly, her face clinically calm as I fought to stay on my feet. “We take it from your men.”

  22

  Doña Christina – Gulf of Cadiz, Coastal Spain

  It moved with the water. Despite its weight, the work platform drifted atop the waves as nimble as a raft just as it had been designed it to do.

  Doña Christina stood on the balcony of the lighthouse, hands wrapped around the railing to keep them from shaking as she surveyed the final construction. Sun low in the sky, breeze on shore ruffling the blue and crimson heralds of the Bourbon bloodline, she watched her older sister, Ysabella, step delicately from a carriage and take her place at their father’s side on the beach. Christina let out a string of furious words. Her father, the king, and Ysabella stood side by side, regent and heir, as they greeted the Italian entourage. Christina’s lip curled at the sound of her sister’s tinkling laugh at some inane jest by the fawning ambassador. Raven hair glossy in the glow of the sun, Ysabella’s poise and grace drew the gaze of every man on the sand.

  The smooth rustle of cloak sounded, and Christina turned, startled, only to relax when she saw him. Silver hair covered by the hood of his cloak, Arecibo’s severe smile struck her once again as deliciously dangerous. “I am getting better at catching you,” Christina said, glancing behind him. “No one saw you?”

  He gave her an expression that made her feel foolish for asking. Of course no one did. He was a trained spy. One only saw him coming if he permitted it. A last lesson many had learned too late. Christina’s gaze wandered back to the scene on the beach, unable to suppress the frustrated sigh.

  “She does not exist when you are in the room,” Arecibo’s velvet voice elicited a genuine smile.

  She faced him, her foul mood lightening. He brushed her knuckles with a kiss and held her with his pale gaze. “And your father knows it. That is why he keeps you hidden.”

  “He does not bother to keep me hidden. I never enter his thoughts in the first place.”

  “Querida,” Arecibo said in a perfect accent. Beloved. “There is no forgetting you. And in less than a week every house and every land will know your name and tremble.”

  Shrugging, Christina pulled a gold thread from her cuff, watched it twist in the breeze, and let it waft on the winds towards the group. The filament caught the light of the setting sun and she dared her father inwardly to look up. To see to whom she spoke. It landed behind them without notice. “Yes, well, this day, the king bargains my hand to appease the Italians and yet Ysabella accompanies him to greet the prince. If I am to marry the vapid fop, I should at the very least be included in the arrival party.”

  “It will never happen.” Arecibo nodded out at the waves. “Your creations will assure you the reins of your own destiny.”

  “I have built upon the minds of geniuses,” Christina intoned. “But the modifications I made should serve us well.” She bit her lip, a frown furrowing her brow.

  “Those we lost in the perfection of the design knew the risks, Querida.” Arecibo clicked his tongue. “You knew that sacrifices must be made for our cause.”

  Christina murmured assent, her gaze resting on the construction raft bobbing on the surface of the cerulean waves. Glistening in the sunlight, the metal and glass structures barely visible reminded her of the insects that had inspired her. From wild imaginings to the realization of her tentative sketches, Arecibo had been there. It was fitting that he witnessed their baptism to the element for which they were designed.

  “Their completion nears,” Christina said, the breathless quality to her words the only outward indication of inner anticipation. Schooled to keep her emotions well under control, it took the acute eye of her suitor to understand her hidden self. “All is on schedule.” She waited for a moment before asking her next question. “Have you found her?” Arecibo’s brow creased and she watched him, noting the stress lining his eyes.

  “Those imbeciles in Outer City tried to mob her after they contacted me. She escaped.”

  “With Wells?” Christina asked, putting a palm to her tumbling stomach.

  “Yes.” Arecibo balled his fists. Wells was a thorn in his side. Disrupting his meticulous plans at every turn. He favored Christina with a reassuring smile. “Do not despair. I have reached out to the entirety of my contacts both inside The Order and out. The reward I offer is double that of the Peaceful Union. I wi
ll find her.”

  “She is integral to our plan.” Christina’s stomach twisted. “If we do not have her, there is no telling how we will be able to—”

  “I have informants in all of the ports, my love,” Arecibo assured her. “As well as those loyal to The Order inside the domes. In any regard, she needs me or she will die. Her conditioning will return her to her rightful place.”

  Restraining the urge to argue further, Christina cleared her throat, glancing at him. “And the other matter?”

  “The timing must be perfect. No one can know, and no harm can come to him.”

  “We should do it now,” Christina urged.

  “It would tip our hand.” Arecibo countered. “And secrecy is of the utmost importance right now. Trust me.”

  “It is the timing of all of this that is stealing my sleep,” she murmured. “There is no room for mistakes.”

  “I agree.” Arecibo leaned on the railing. He held a spyglass to his eye and flicked a lever with his thumb. The sections pushed out, revealing a large lens through which he watched the work. “What of the plans here? There have been no questions? No inquiries about the…unusual equipment?”

  “Most of them only understand what they are told to do, nothing more. The rest know not to question.” Christina pulled on the hem of her sable wrap. “You were right. The Master of Science bent easily to my threats. I walked him through his conversation with my father should the king question the need for what he builds in the sea. He is to explain that the worsening weather may result in vicious tornados that can alight on the coastal towns without warning. Even if my father did ask what his scientists were constructing…they would not be able to tell him. No one knows what is truly happening. Each worker is given only a small portion of the plans and works on the equipment only at night with limited lighting. I doubt anyone could so much describe what they were building. Let alone know what it was.”

  “Fortunately, he has a gambling problem. It would have been a shame to lose such a talented engineer were he to develop a conscience.”

  “The irony is, my father would not have cared if he gambled or womanized or drank. What my father loathes is losing. That Luis helped himself to family treasures to pay off his debt is what the king would have found reprehensible.”