The Endless Knight: The Seekers Trilogy (The Watchers Series Book 6)

by T. C. Edge

  Slowly, I stand, the night now growing dark. From behind, a heavy burst of thunder comes crashing, a storm brewing in the distance. Thick black clouds spread across the sky, moving closer as we stand in silence.

  “Your father…Augustus Knight…is dead,” I say, regaining my breath. “But there’s another half to you, another half that’s still alive.”

  His eyes grow intense, his head begins to shake. Everything he knows is being tested and denied.

  “Cyra…my mother…you have half of her in you too. And that makes us brothers…”

  The shaking of his head grows more acute. The grimace on his face stiffens further.

  “You’re lying to me…why are you lying to me!”

  He takes another step forward threateningly, an internal battle raging, wanting to attack but somehow holding himself back.

  “I’m not lying, AK1. The Baron is just using you, all of you. But you…you in particular. He has a special purpose for you. You’re just a pawn in his game, just a weapon…”

  “NO! I’M MORE!” he shouts.

  “I know you are,” I say, stepping back again as he pulses forwards. “You are to me…but not to him.”

  The sky bursts with a bright tongue of lightning. Another crack of thunder rumbles through the air.

  Still, the clone shakes his head, his eyes darting here and there now, bewildered and confused.

  “You’re wrong,” he says, quieter now, more introspective. “You’re wrong…”

  He steps back, and from above, rain begins to pour and flood, the heavens opening as the storm gathers. Obscured by the darkness and the sudden deluge, I look at the Seeker and see the doubt in his eyes. Yet they don’t meet mine, they don’t look at me again.

  With another loud burst of lighting and thunder, he flicks on his heels, his sodden cloak flowing behind him, and begins rushing off away from me, away through the town square. I watch on for a second as he disappears into the darkness, feeling an urge to shout out after him, to follow.

  But I don’t.

  I just stand, and stare, and feel the cool splash of the rain as it dances on my face, the light swirl of wind as it caresses my skin.

  And then, from below, I hear a voice, croaking from the dirt.

  “He’s half…Cyra?”

  I look down and see Ajax staring up at me. His eyes are like the Seeker’s, confused and lost.

  I nod, and turn back to the darkness.

  “And that’s exactly why we came,” I say.

  13

  The Valleys Swell

  “It all makes so much sense now,” says Ajax, his voice half drowned by the thundering storm.

  We’re sitting inside the house again, rain bombarding the roof and dripping down through gaps in the ceiling. Outside, through the broken down walls and smashed up windows, the wind howls and whistles, and the black sky intermittently flashes with shards of lightning, bringing the baritone voice of thunder along with it.

  “He looks different to the others,” continues Ajax. “The blue in his eyes, the brighter colour to his hair. I can see Cyra in him now…I can see you.”

  He looks at me, still coming to terms with it. Peering at me in a strange way.

  Then, he speaks again. “How long have you known?” he asks.

  “Since we escaped Eden,” I say. “Professor Lane…she left us a notebook with some more details from the file. The others, they’re just Knight, through and through. But this one…he’s got half my mother inside him.”

  “AK1,” whispers Ajax. “I could hear it all from here. I understand it now, why you’ve been seeing him in your visions, why you wanted to come here. I get it, Theo. He’s different from the others.”

  “There’s something more in him,” I say. “He’s conflicted…”

  “Who else knows about him?”

  “My father, he’s known from the start…”

  “And Drake, I’m guessing?” he asks. “Anyone else?”

  I shake my head.

  He frowns. “Not your mother?”

  “Dad warned me not to tell her. He thinks it will weaken her. He didn’t want anyone else knowing.”

  “And Drake agrees?”

  “Yeah. No one else needs the distraction right now. But only Drake knows I’m here, and knowing him, he’s probably worked out that you’ve come with me. We need to get back, tell him what’s happened.”

  I make a move to stand, but Ajax pulls me back down.

  “Not tonight. Let’s rest. We can leave at sunrise, once the storm has passed.”

  I nod, and settle back into the chair, my mind still working overtime. Ajax begins shuffling around in my bag, pulling out some tinned food and bread and bottles of water, preparing a little picnic right there in that crumbling old house.

  We talk a little more as we eat, my stomach suddenly informing me that I have a voracious appetite. Ajax has plenty more questions regarding the Seeker, ones I’m happy to answer if I can. It’s nice to have him back on the same page as me, my partner in crime back at my side.

  “So, what’s this special purpose?” he asks me as he munches on a piece of bread.

  I shrug, gulping down some water. “Professor Lane never elaborated. We have no idea.”

  “And he doesn’t either. The kid seemed lost, you know, like he didn’t know what or who he was.”

  “Yeah, he’s lived in a lie his whole life. I feel sorry for him, really. I mean, Augustus Knight made himself evil…he built all that over decades. These clones aren’t like that. Just because they have his genes, it doesn’t make them evil too. No one’s born that way.”

  “But that’s how they’ve been bred,” says Ajax. “To hate us, to kill us, to wreak havoc. That’s all they know.”

  “Yeah, but not this one. This one’s confused and conflicted. That’s why I wanted to come here. I wanted to look into his eyes and see the truth.”

  “And the truth is?”

  “That he’s been kept in the dark his entire life, groomed for something that he doesn’t even know about. Now, the truth is trickling into his mind, and he’s going to want to find out more.”

  “Yeah, and so do I,” remarks Ajax. “You sure there’s nothing else in the Professor’s notebook?”

  “Trust me,” I say, nodding, “I’ve combed that thing a hundred times. There’s no code or anything cryptic that I’m missing. I guess she didn’t have a chance to work out anything more before she…you know.”

  “Such a shame. I never met her, but she sounds like a good woman.”

  “She was,” I say with a smile, thinking of the old Professor. “She meant a lot to my dad. He’s not used to losing people like my mum is, not in the same way.”

  “It’s something we all need to get our heads around, though. At times like this, anyone can fall.”

  I nod in agreement. It’s a fact we know all too well. As yet, we’ve suffered the near loss of both Link and Drake, for a time fearing the worst for both of them. In the end, they came back from the dead. But those lingering scars remain, those fears that loved ones will be lost.

  It’s a fear that all people hold in war, the inevitability of death part and parcel of the game. In the end, you can only do so much to prevent it. And no matter what you do, luck and fortune, or lack thereof, will always play the staring role.

  We sleep that night in fits and starts, talking late before finally getting some rest as the storm begins to abate. When we wake, the sky has brightened, little drops of rain still dripping down from the ceiling and forming little puddles on the floor.

  We’re quick to rise, though, gathering up our things and hastily moving out of the town and down the path towards the car, still awaiting us where we skidded to a stop the previous day. We climb in, and I pray we don’t suffer some malfunction like we did when crossing the Deadlands after escaping the Baron’s compound. Thankfully, the old jeep grumbles to life, coughing out a little smoke as we steer it back in the opposite direction.

  We speed up the t
rack as quickly as we can, turning towards the wall and Deadlands beyond, setting our path back from where we came. As with any journey, the return leg appears to go much faster, knowing our course as we now do.

  The hours filter by fast as we take it in turns to do the driving, covering the earth with a speed that brings us closer to the mountains as the night begins to fall.

  We press on through the dark, our pace now limited as any pitfalls ahead disappear into the blackness. In the end, we slow to a crawl, a covering of dark cloud blocking out the light of the stars and moon. Yet on we go, refusing to stop and sleep as we grind through the endless night.

  As we go, a few lights appear in the darkness, dots of orange specking the horizon. Remaining vigilant, we steer clear of them, debating what they might be. Coming around a portion of rock that blocks our path ahead, our question is answered: they’re the lights of campfires, set by those crossing the desert in pursuit of a safe haven.

  More appear as we go, the world peppered with them. And as the dark fades and dawn rises, we see cars and carriages moving, and people walking, some alone, others in small groups or larger convoys.

  And the nearer we get to the foot of the mountains, the more of them appear, all flocking to the camp in the valleys. And down from the mountains, the cars of the ‘searchers’ come, moving out to offer their aid. The job we signed up for only a couple of days ago, and which we couldn’t see through.

  We have other things on our mind, though, our sights set on Petram right at the summit of the mountains in the high passes. We reach the road up through the low hills, rising up into the valleys, and soon come around the corner to witness the staggering sight of the giant camps set up in the lofty plains.

  We drive on, and the early morning light brings into stark contrast the surge of activity going on in the military camp.

  Everywhere, soldiers from the Petram army are being mobilised, vehicles being checked and fitted and sorted into formation. Men and women in uniform work busily, weapons being handed out and body armour being issued.

  Such is the sight ahead that we stop and get out of the car, marvelling at the scale of it all. As a soldier walks by, I call out: “What the hell is happening here?”

  He turns to me, hardly losing stride in his rush.

  “War. We’re going to war.”

  14

  Pawns in the Game

  The scale of the operation grows clearer as we continue to rise up the mountain. With Ajax behind the wheel, I’m able to get a good look down over the edge of the perilous cliff on the right of the mountain pass. Down in the plains, the sight of thousands of soldiers being mobilised draws the eye, as large a force of people as I’ve ever seen.

  I never realised that Petram had such a military force at its disposal, spread far and wide across the Deadlands as they were.

  “It’s different from the Eden standing army,” Ajax offers. “Those guys are full time professional soldiers. But a lot of those from the Deadlands are temporary, you know, only coming together when they need to.”

  “Where’d you hear that?” I ask.

  “Vesuvia told me. Apparently there are well over ten thousand possible soldiers that Petram can call on.”

  “Lucky for the regions,” I say. “The Eden army has been waning over the years. Peace has made them weak.”

  “Yeah, and a lot of those that are left have joined the Baron. Some soldiers have no loyalty to a cause. They just go where they’re told, and do what they’re ordered to. It doesn’t matter who’s holding the whip.”

  We fly up the mountain, soon entering the mist that hangs up in the high passes. Entering the soup, the view of the valleys below is swallowed up, giving me nothing to look at but the road ahead. Once more, the welcome chill of the mountain breathes life into the car, sweeping away some of the dust it’s accumulated over days in the sand and rock.

  It dawns on me that we’ve essentially stolen the vehicle, and should probably make sure it’s returned at some point. Right now, though, I doubt too many people will kick up a fuss about it.

  Soon, we’re flattening out as we climb to the summit of the path. Ahead, through the swirling mist, the long tunnel through the mountain awaits, an impenetrable barrier to the plateau and city of stone beyond. Blocking the tunnel, the thick gate remains shut, a dozen soldiers manning the checkpoint.

  Guns are quickly raised as we approach, a constant vigilance maintained. Truly, though, an enemy would have to be quite something to get to this point unscathed, the pathway below crawling as it is with our forces.

  We roll up and come to a stop, and a soldier moves to the side window.

  “What is your purpose here?” he asks, peering through at us.

  “We’re Ajax and Theo,” says my friend. The names no longer need any explanation. “We have urgent business with President Drayton.”

  The man offers no additional questions or queries. Our faces, no longer requiring of morph masks, are famous enough now to give us free passage just about anywhere. He nods us through and we enter past the gate and into the long, dark tunnel, cruising through as fast as the old jeep will allow.

  It coughs and chugs loudly, its voice echoing around the walls, as if it’s calling for a break.

  “Don’t worry, old girl,” I say, patting the dashboard. “We’re nearly there.”

  Moments later, we’re bursting back into the light, our presence called ahead by the tunnel checkpoint and the gate on the perimeter of the plateau opening up to allow us entry. We stop outside and get out of the car as the gate commander greets us.

  “We weren’t aware you were out of the city,” he says.

  “It was a top secret mission,” is all I say, before pointing at the car. “That was part of the collection used by the Deadlands searchers. Can you please make sure it gets back to them.”

  The officer nods and sets about making it happen as we head straight into the city, our eyes set on a single path. And down it we go, moving along the smooth corridor leading to the Master’s chambers and war room, the first port of call when searching for Drake.

  As we approach, the guards outside the door tell us there’s a meeting already in progress. They don’t, however, prevent us from going straight through without knocking.

  A series of familiar faces turn to us, our sudden intrusion clearly unexpected. The room is filled with the usual suspects, all presumably drawn together to direct and discuss the current goings on down in the valleys.

  Ajax and I stand there, sweating and dirty, panting slightly as a short silence falls.

  It’s the man we’ve come to see who breaks it.

  “Ah, Theo and Ajax, you’re back…and just in time.”

  I scan the room and the expressions within it. The expected looks of suspicion are present, all glaring at us. Jackson and Cyra. Link and Ellie. Their sons have been gone for several days, disappearing without warning. Clearly, they want answers.

  Yet, the countenance of Drake suggests otherwise. And his next words make it clear that he’s already worked up the necessary excuses.

  “For those of you unaware,” he announces to the group. “I sent the two lads to the Deadlands for a couple of days to aid in the support of the refugees crossing the desert. By the looks of their clothes, they’ve been right in the thick of it. How was it, boys?”

  Ajax and I are quick enough to catch on.

  “Erm, yeah, pretty brutal down there,” I say. “Lots of refugees coming in. But Major Vilius is running a tight ship.”

  I throw in the name of the Major in charge, hoping it will add some credence to my story. I look at my parents, who continue to look doubtful. Drake will have informed them of the lie early on. And, knowing them, they’ll never have believed it.

  Still, there are clearly other more pressing matters to get to, Drake taking the floor.

  “Excellent, boys,” he says. “And well done for getting back here so quickly. I trust you got my message OK?”

  We both nod and say:
“Yes, sir,” as little smiles rise on our faces.

  “Right, well, just to catch you up. We got word overnight that the war is spreading once more, and that the stalemate across and near the coast has been broken. The Baron’s forces are appearing at various points across the map, attacking certain strongholds of The Guardians of Liberty. By now, the fighting is stretching right from Fossor in the North, to Agricola in the South. General Trent, would you take it from here.”

  “Of course, President Drayton,” says the General. “The forces of Eden are on the back foot, and they cannot keep this tide at bay. I am coordinating with General Proctor and his men, and we are going to be bolstering our strength at the main areas of fighting. The convoy will be leaving in a matter of hours. Ladies and gentlemen, Baron Reinhold has once more made his move. Soon enough, all the regions will be engulfed in this. We have no choice but to play our hand.”

  “And that means all of us,” announces Link. “We can no longer sit and wait here in Petram. We have to set our Watchers free…”

  He looks over Cyra and Drake, and then Ajax and me.

  “I’m not sure how prudent that is.”

  It’s Jackson who speaks, engaging with Link once more, as he so often has before.

  “Prudent?” asks Link. “People are dying and you’re talking about being prudent?”

  “I have gotten word from some of my sources that the Seekers are once more at large,” says my father. “We’ve had several sightings of them, and don’t know where they’ll appear next. We’ve had this debate before. If they lure our Watchers out, then it may all be over. We cannot fall into another trap.”

  “Jackson, with all due respect, you are not a Watcher. My full strength has returned, and I cannot sit here night and day, seeing people being killed in my visions, and do nothing about it. That is not how I am made. I grew up in Fossor, and I have lived in Lignum for twenty years. I will not let the people there, or anywhere else for that matter, die without doing anything to help…”