31
The massive subterranean cavern echoed with Arecibo’s footfalls as he treaded back and forth across the thirty yards of limestone lit by caged incandescents. He peered down each aisle of metal beds, stopping to adjust a feed line or check the intake valve of a tube. The vapor of his breath followed him in the chill of the underground space. He tugged his cloak around his shoulders closer and smoothed his silver hair. The armor at the foot of each bed glinted in the flickering glow of the bulbs and he paused, checking a helmet. Making sure each lead was positioned correctly, each wire securely fastened to deliver the needed jolts and dose of Solenium.
He paused, feeling dwarfed by the sheer numbers of this floor alone. His gaze wandered to the lone glass chamber standing upright against the rock wall. The bluish liquid long gone stagnant from lack of use, he wandered over, his jaw working. Adjusting the flow meter, he watched the leather bindings suspended in the fluid move lazily with the undulating current. A glass tank mounted on the wall bubbled with silver liquid. The electric leads attached to the head band sizzled in the moist air. All of it ready and filling him with despair. He needed her. Time was running out.
Hurried footfalls sounded from near the entrance, and Arecibo stepped into an aisle to see who it was. The telltale bald pate and flowing tunic of an abbey novice spurred hope in Arecibo. Perhaps all was not lost. He strode to meet him.
“Färber,” Arecibo said. “What is it?”
“My lord, Viceroy,” the novice said and bowed. He offered up a scrap of aethergraph missive.
“There is news?” Arecibo inspected the paper. “From where?”
“A distress signal was sent to our house of veneration in New Maine not an hour ago,” the young man explained. “When we surmised its purpose, I came to you straightaway.”
Arecibo read the etchings. He tried to hide the shaking of his hands as relief flooded his chest. “This man, this Gustav, is he there still?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Is she alive?” Arecibo asked, walking back towards the entrance. She has to be.
“Well, that is…” Färber began. “Yes.”
“Excellent.” Arecibo took in a calming breath and flicked the switch for the overhead incandescents. The cavern darkened with the sequential clang of power interrupting as the bulbs darkened.
“Do they have her on ice, at the very least?”
“Pardon, Viceroy, but she is more than still alive. This Gustav claims she nearly drowned his crew and abducted their leader.”
Arecibo stopped mid-stride staring at Färber. “That is not possible. Blackburn must be near death with weakness at this point. She was forced to fight our knights in a freezing storm and was chased off of Outer City by an angry mob. The Solenium is surely spent at this point.”
“That is what I have been attempting to relay, my Lord. This Gustav is saying that Blackburn showed up out of nowhere, crashed landed, and that she was very sick, but Professor Hunley—”
“Prudence!” Arecibo growled. The woman disappeared nearly a year ago from this very facility without a trace. He’d spend months trying to figure out how she escaped, let alone where she went. And Charlotte just happened upon them? Impossible. “How did Blackburn find Hunley? Was it Wells?” He shouted.
“Sir, I do not know, but—”
“It was Wells,” Arecibo spat. “Who else would it be?” He crumpled the missive in his hands, pacing. Anger burned in his chest, and he rammed a nearby tower of crates with a growl, sending them crashing to the ground. “How did Hunley help her?”
“Something about Solenium,” Färber explained. “I-I do not understand how, but…”
“What?” Arecibo shook his head, not believing. “From where?”
“I do not know, my Lord,” Färber said, watching warily. “But this man said he believed Blackburn was headed to Outer City. He says he needs The Order’s help for injured colleagues, and to rescue Professor Hunley. The New Main governor denied him aid as they are outside the dome.”
Arecibo blinked, unsure he had heard correctly. “She returns? You are certain?”
“That is what he thinks, my Lord.”
“Who else knows about this man?” Arecibo asked.
“No one, not even the house magistrate has been told,” Färber said, wringing his hands. “As you requested, should we hear anything at all about Blackburn, to let you know immediately. My counterpart at the New Maine Abbey secured Gustav in a room and told me straightaway.”
“Well done.” Arecibo strode past the novice and climbed the spiral stone steps leading to the ground floor. “Ready my air ship. I leave immediately.”
“Sir,” Färber said, bowing and hurrying off.
Arecibo took the steps two at a time, ran down the corridor, and burst into his laboratory office. His assistant leapt to his feet so abruptly his chair toppled over.
“Viceroy,” he gasped. “Is there something wrong?”
“Marcellus, secure the equipment we talked about,” Arecibo ordered. “Have it on my ship as quickly as possible. All of it.”
“Blackburn?” Marcellus rounded the desk, his face alight. “You found her.”
“Yes.” Arecibo handed him a leather-bound journal. “Once I am gone, give this to Aceves. He will know how to proceed.”
“The Spaniards?” Marcellus wrinkled his nose. “They have been here but a month and know nothing of this place. Whatever you need, my Lord, I am more than capable.”
“They are here under my orders. It is none of your concern.”
“Those men are not of The Order. I am sure of it,” Marcellus said.
“Do as I say! You are to give Aceves and his men anything they ask,” Arecibo snapped. “Without exception. They know what I require. Do not get in their way.”
“Yes, Viceroy,” Marcellus muttered, his face a mask of anger. “Whatever you wish.”
“And free some knights,” Arecibo ordered, thinking of Wells. “There may be trouble.”
Marcellus stared at him, not moving.
“Go, now,” Arecibo snapped and waved him off.
Once alone, he pulled the aethergraph out of the hidden panel behind his desk and tapped out a message to Christina.
Our plans align perfectly. Blackburn is nearly in hand. Launch Lafayette Initiative immediately. I will meet you on the sands.
32
The Chasm Walker sped through the Atlantic at full throttle, the engines working up a flurry of heat that only the periodic opening of the top hatch could remedy. Ashton stood at the helm, navigating by compass to the coordinates spelled out in Outer City’s distress message.
Hunley banged around in the storage compartments, taking an inventory of the supplies.
Unable to sit still, I paced back and forth beneath the squares of morning light piercing the upper windows through the water above.
Every manner of creature I’d only read about floated past our portholes. Scores of clear, gelatinous medusas drifted in large blooms trailing their tentacles. Shoals of silvery fish, enough to sink an iron-clad, sped in undulating shapes across our nose. Crab-like walkers with molten colors glowing in their abdomens wandered the rocky outcroppings, all of it fascinating and frightening.
I had long believed that the quakes of The Great Calamity had spoiled the oceans. The noxious waters offshore teemed with dead and dying creatures. One could only venture on the waves with a gas mask and at great peril even in fortified vessels. But as a pod of enormous whales swam lazily in the distance, I wondered how much of what we assumed lost was in fact alive and thriving in this broken world.
The engine throttle shifted, pulling me from my thoughts, and I glanced at Ashton.
He maneuvered the submersible to the surface, setting her to drift. “I want to take a look before this last leg of the journey,” he said, striding for the ladder. His gaze fell on me and he walked over to me. He took my hands in his. “You are trembling. Is it the mechanica? Should I get Pru?”
“No it’s…” I slipped my
arms around him, resting my cheek on his broad chest. His heartbeat, sure and steady, eased my nerves. “I think it’s fear.”
Ashton wrapped me in his strong arms, holding me close. “Ah,” he murmured. “It is human to be frightened.”
I stirred in his embrace, looking up at his angled jaw, letting my gaze caress his full lips. “Am I, though?” I whispered, my fingers finding the devices at my temples. “I am not what I once was. Hardly at all.”
“None of us are,” Ashton said. “The scars of this life, they mark us all. Change us irretrievably.”
“But the rage I feel in battle,” I swallowed against the lump at my throat. “The things they say I did. How can that monster live inside me and not consume me whole?”
“You do not let it.” Ashton took me by the shoulders. “You hang on with everything you are to who you are. Remember, Charlie, Arecibo did not create you. He is a mere man. He may have left echoes of his evil in your mind, but he cannot harness your soul.”
“My soul?” I stepped back, hugging myself. “Is there one left? Do you really believe that?”
Ashton frowned, a shadow passing behind his eyes. He took a lock of my hair and let it slide between his fingers and thumb. “My love, I would bet my own on it.”
Hunley walked in carrying a mask in her hands. A hose trailed on the ground behind her. “This is for water, I think. It has valves and everything.” She stopped, looking at us. “What?”
“We’ve surfaced,” Ashton said, clearing his throat, his fingers brushed my arms as he let his hand drop. “But we’re close, I think.” He climbed the ladder and pushed the hatch up, sending a curtain of water raining down on us. Extending the scope of a spyglass, he scanned the seas.
“What do you see?” I asked, climbing up and squeezing through next to him.
“Trouble,” Ashton murmured. He tapped beneath his eye, nudging me. “Anything?”
The afternoon sun shone through the clouds overhead, but in the distance, a vast weather front churned dark and dangerous over the roiling waves. I engaged the magnifying lens behind my eye. Beyond the storm, a dark form floated atop the crashing waves. Vast and bulky, it moved with jerking stiffness.
“Outer City,” I said. “I think I see it.” Blinking to retract the lens, I pointed. “She is still in one piece.”
“Any word on the invasion?” Ashton asked.
“Did we receive anything, Hunley?” I called down.
“Another volley of messages,” she shouted back. “Far fewer than before.”
“We would see airships. Cannon fire, right?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Ash?”
Ashton turned to me, cradling my jaw in his palm. He ran his thumb across my cheek. His touch sent a trail of heat through me. Holding my gaze, he brushed a whisper of a kiss on my lips. “We will get through this storm, Charlie,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose along my temple. “I promise you.”
My fingers tangled in the hair that fell over his eyes, my throat tight.
A spindle of lightning snapped down, flashing in the belly of the clouds.
I nodded, forcing a smile. “We have to,” I said.
“Let’s go, Blackburn,” Ashton breathed and winked. He climbed back down.
I followed, securing the hatch. Taking a seat next to him at the helm, I made myself breathe deeply, slowly.
Hunley wrapped her arms around a support beam near the water lock, her eyes wide. “We…we are going survive this,” she said to herself over and over again.
We made way, the engines reengaging as we cut through the building waves before submerging once more. The seas jarred the vessel harder as we progressed. White water tossed us and we dove deeper trying to avoid it to no avail. Vegetation tangled with the claw arms and stuck on the porthole rivets blocking our view. The lights wavered as we banged into rock and debris.
I clung to the counter. Shocks fired in my muscles, and the wood creaked beneath my grip.
Silvery light flashed in the dimming helm. The ocean swelled as if the earth were tilting on its side and we nearly rolled.
I toppled to the floor, and Ashton went down as well.
“Hang on!” he shouted.
Hunley’s startled scream crawled along my nerves.
“What’s happening?” I cried.
A black form jutted up right in our path. Craggy rock slid toward the sky from a great chasm below. Molten rock bubbled up from the crack, steaming and glowing red as it oozed, piling in on itself.
“Watch out,” I pointed and Ashton yanked on the rudder controls, nearly hitting the upcropping as we barreled around it.
The super-heated water shot upward, rocking the Chasm Walker on its side as it rose in great bubbling clouds.
I tumbled through the helm, smashing against the hull just beneath a porthole. Biting my tongue, I tasted blood, my head pounding with pain.
Ashton braced himself, his stance wide, hands never leaving the yoke. “Are you all right?” he asked, shouting over his shoulder.
Hunley answered, and I nodded at his glance. “Yes. Keep going.”
“I’m taking us higher,” he said, pulling on the controls.
The buffeting sea tossed us, and my stomach flopped as we rode toward the storm. We pushed on and the rain hit as we surfaced, a driving deluge which pierced the waves and drummed down on us. Peering through the wash of water, a dark jagged form came into view.
“Look.” I scrambled back to the helm, staring out the front windows. “It’s them. We found them.” My elation was short lived as we approached the enormous conglomeration of buildings and platforms.
Debris and pieces of air ships rained down on the Chasm Walker. Disengaged metal cables lashed against the hull clanging so loud my hand flew to my ears. The ports, still strung together, hovered a mere fifty feet above the churning ocean. Outer City’s walkways whipped in the punishing storm. Buildings collapsed, their boards flying off in the winds, roofs completely gone. People, too far away to make out faces, struggled to hang on, some striding against the winds, hanging onto what was left of the walkway ropes. Waves tore over the planks, washing away anything not secured.
“They’re being torn to pieces,” I shouted, my heart in my throat.
“She’ll hold together,” Ashton said, cranking the propeller’s dial all the way off.
“Do you see anyone?” I searched the buildings, trying to make out which port, which ships we’d found. So much of the original pieces gone, Outer City appeared to be nothing but bare bones. The whole of it was less than a tenth of what I remembered. “Do you see Riley?”
“Not from here,” Ashton said and strode towards the corridor.
“How are we getting up there?” Hunley shouted, trailing us. “Did either of you think of that?”
Another wave hit us, and we smashed against the wall.
“Where are we going?” I tripped over my large boots, struggling to keep up with his pace.
“The engine room.” Ashton pushed through a final hatch and ran down the stairs. He hurried through the space, gaze bouncing as he went.
Steam spewed from the pipes running along the ceiling and down the walls. An overwhelming smell of burning coal and exhaust made me gag. Heat pulled at me and I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to reach for the heated pipes. Lights caked with the grime of the engines shed wan light on the heart of the vessel. Ashton stopped short, and I bumped into his back.
“What are you looking for?”
“This,” Ashton said.
A large tube with a metal door protruded from the side of the hull. An array of pipes and hoses snaked from the sides connecting with a series of levers and pumps.
“What is that?” Hunley asked, peering at the contraption.
“I believe it is a way to get to Outer City,” Ashton said, spinning the metal wheel on the first tube.
“What?” I staggered back. “How?”
He pulled the covering aside and his voice echoed in the empty chute. Turning to me, he
held my gaze. “Remember how we first met?” he asked. “On the rooftop?”
I nodded slowly. I’d hurled off the ledge of my father’s building on a cable. “That grappling gun used gravity. We need to go up.” I backed away, my gut tightening. “How do you think that will work?”
“With this.” Ashton wrapped his fingers around a metal cable stretched taut.
I followed the line with my gaze to a wheel coiled near the levers. An enormous pronged projectile rested on the floor. As large as Poseidon’s trident, the metal hooks stood taller than me.
“It is, for all intents and purposes, the same thing.”
“It launches out of those chutes?” I asked, stepping forward. “Out of the water? How do you slide along it?”
Ashton pointed to a wrinkled sign attached to the hull. The paper, long gone yellow and cracked with age, showed a shape of a man inside a large cylinder.
“That’s what that is,” Hunley said, her gaze intent on the equipment.
Another wave hit us and Ashton grabbed me, steadying us against the wall.
Hunley clutched a nearby pipe, burning her hand, and hissing with the pain.
“How many are there?” I asked, trying to keep the waver from my voice.
“One,” Ashton shrugged. “I get up there, find Jack and the others and hopefully send them back to you via the capsule. We can hold at least two dozen in here if we have to. The frailest. Those who cannot fend for themselves. Lilah cannot survive up there.”
“No. I am going with you.”
“There’s no telling how soon Arecibo will find this place.”
“The storm will keep them hidden,” I tried, panic rushing my words. “I will not let you do this alone. It was my choice to return!”
“If we could locate them, then surely all of the Coalition has the resources to do the same. I have to do this now. Before the storm makes it impossible,” Ashton said over the whine of the engines.
“Two can fit in that capsule,” I said, grabbing his coat and pulling him close. “I am going with you, Wells.”
Lips pressed together in a thin line, Ashton nodded minutely. “Fine.”
“Fine. Wait…what about Pru?” I asked, catching her gaze as the blood drained from her face.
Chasm Walkers Page 26
