Through a Mirror, Darkly

by R F Hurteau

  “I want you to take a half-dozen Envicti through the Gate and bring back that prototype vehicle the Ambassador spoke of. A little something for our troubles. It may not fit many at once, but it could still prove useful.”

  Felix didn’t like the sound of that. “And his crew?”

  “Kill them. Let it be a poor repayment for the lives their cowardly leader stole from us.”

  Felix had to think fast now. “Perhaps I should take the Ambassador along.”

  He wished he could think of a way to make this idea seem more enticing.

  “No.” The single word had an air of cold finality.

  “It’s possible that we won’t be able to pilot this prototype on our own,” Felix suggested, his voice cool and silky. “We may need him to help...persuade...his friends to bring it through the Evenmire for us. And then, once they’re no longer useful...”

  Nero moved closer, towering over Felix, his face menacing. “Let me set something straight for you, Lord Laevus. You might have become used to a certain amount of coddling from the old Council,” he hissed. “You might have been their little pet project, favored for the very traits that sicken me so. You learned how to manipulate people from that despicable snake charmer, Pike. So you probably think your tricks will work on me, like they worked on everyone else. But let me make one thing crystal clear.”

  He bent low to whisper in Felix’s ear. “If you step one foot out of line with me, I swear, you will pay. I am the Council now. And the new Council does not recognize the sanctity of life in regard to Halfsies. The First Order won’t protect you from me. Do you understand, my Lord?”

  Felix swallowed hard and nodded, wondering if Nero could hear his heart pounding.

  “Bring me the prototype. After that, we’ll talk more about what your future role here will look like.”

  Felix’s heart was still throbbing when he stepped outside of the Council building. Nero had not taken the bait.

  He looked around and found Gavin, waiting by the door.

  “Come on,” he muttered, “I’ll fill you in on the ride back.”

  “So, what’s the new plan?” Gavin asked after Felix recounted what had transpired with Nero in the Council Chambers.

  “That depends. Where would they be holding Bohai?”

  Gavin turned down a small side street and brought the Floater to a stop, then turned to stare at Felix.

  “Please tell me you’re smarter than I’m giving you credit for. You do value your own life, do you not? You want to get back to your family? Because if you go against Nero’s wishes and you get caught, that’s the end of the road for you.”

  “I think it’s a little ironic, you trying to lecture me on bad plans,” Felix accused, then added in a lower voice, “You and my mother captured Laevus and killed three Envicti, and I didn’t see you debating the merits of her decision-making skills. She single-handedly wiped out the Council, and you didn’t so much as scold her.”

  Gavin’s expression became unreadable. “Onyx has earned my trust. I might not always agree with her, but I will defend her actions to my death. She said she was sure about the Envicti. She did what she thought was right with the Council. Who am I to judge?”

  “Well, I’m sure about this, too.”

  “You’re just as obstinate as she is.” Gavin let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. “There might be a way.”

  “Excellent!” Felix couldn’t help but latch on to the thin thread of hope that Gavin’s statement offered. “So just what will this idea of yours require, exactly?”

  “Not what,” Gavin corrected, shaking his head. “Who.”

  Gavin brought the Floater out of city and went east until he reached a grove of ancient-looking Elm trees.

  The vehicle came to a stop and they dismounted, Felix giving Gavin a wide berth as the larger man walked around, scanning the ground.

  “It’s around here somewhere.”

  Gavin stooped down, brushing aside some fallen leaves and branches to reveal a small handle. “Just been a while. Ah, there we go.”

  “So...what am I looking at?” Felix asked, curiosity getting the best of him. Gavin, who had been staring at the ground, turned his gaze to Felix. His eyes were glassy, his expression unreadable.

  “My past.”

  Without another word he reached out and grasped the handle, pulling it up to reveal a shaft whose bottom was lost in darkness.

  “Come on,” he said, swinging his legs over the opening and disappearing inside.

  Felix leaned over to watch him descend and saw a rusty ladder attached to one wall of the shaft.

  “Uh, exactly how far in your past are we talking? Because those rungs look a little questionable to me.”

  “It will hold. Just come on. Be quick, and close the hatch behind you.”

  Felix shrugged and, mimicking Gavin, lowered himself down, pulling the trap door down behind him and casting them both into darkness.

  It wasn’t long before, reaching down for the next rung, Felix’s foot found solid ground. He let go of the ladder and turned his head from side to side, but it was no use—it was pitch black down here.

  “This way.”

  Felix followed the sound of Gavin’s voice, then the rhythmic beat of his footfalls. They walked for a while like that, Gavin occasionally murmuring something like “Right here,” or, “stay to the left. Watch the hole.”

  “I can’t watch anything, I can’t even see my hand in front of my face. Maybe now would be a good time to tell me the plan. Where are we?”

  “We’re under the city. At least, almost under the city. These tunnels have been here a lot longer than Imradia has and extend pretty far beyond her borders.”

  “And...who are we expecting to find down here again?”

  Felix was trying to imagine the type of person who would live in the sewers.

  Gavin was silent for so long that Felix had begun to wonder if maybe he hadn’t heard the question at all. When his answer came, it was slow and steady, as if the words required a great deal of effort to get out.

  “I was young, once.” Gavin said it as though this might be a hard thing for Felix to believe. “And foolish. I set my sights on a career as an Envictus. I thought that I would be doing my part to help protect the heritage of my people. The Therans are a dying race, Felix. I only wanted to prolong that fate. I never stopped to think about who I’d be protecting them from, or why.”

  He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “I lost both of my parents during the Great War. My hatred for the enemies of my people consumed me. My desire for revenge was so intense that I poured myself into my training. I excelled at everything I tried, except for discipline. I was never any good at following orders.

  “I was assigned to a mentor who took me under his wing when everyone else believed I was a lost cause. He taught me so many things. How to listen, but also how to have the wisdom to question what I was hearing. He tamed my bloodlust and taught me how to master my emotions. As I matured, he showed me what our leaders truly were and what they’d been hiding. He gave me the gift of truth, something for which I will forever be in his debt. He was, and is, the wisest person I have ever had the privilege to know.”

  “So, what happened to him?” Felix was trying to keep his mind off the narrowing passage. He wasn’t all that fond of small spaces.

  “I joined his organization. He’d founded it with the intention of protecting and preserving truth. We gathered recruits from across Thera. We worked to spread knowledge to all people, in the hopes of someday bringing peace back to a broken and corrupt world.”

  Felix thought about this for a while. It smelled like mold down here. Mold and sadness. And when Gavin wasn’t speaking, Felix was certain he could hear the skittering of rats. It doesn’t seem like the type of place a legendary revolutionary could be found.

  “If this guy is so great, why does he live alone, underground, in the dark?”

  “He disappeared for a long time. Without his
steadfast guidance, our movement crumbled under the crushing weight of the Council. They sought us out, scattered us far and wide and destroyed everything we’d worked so long to build. When he reappeared six months ago, he began reaching out, finding us, rebuilding our network from the ground up. But he has been forced to do so from hiding, and the work has been slow. Especially since some of us no longer wish to be a part of his dreams. It’s been a long time for all of us, something he didn’t seem to understand when he returned. Many of us have built new dreams. Smaller ones, yes. But attainable.”

  “So, it sounds like he isn’t very happy with you, is he?”

  “No,” agreed Gavin flatly.

  “But you think he’ll help us anyway?”

  “Regardless of how he feels about me, he is still a defender of truth. He will still champion a just cause.”

  Felix nodded. “Good. So, does he have a name?”

  Gavin’s voice floated out of the darkness, carrying with it the bitter melody of sorrow and regret. “He’s had many names. Myself, I had grown to call him Father. But to everyone else, he is known as the Weaver.”

  Gavin stopped short and Felix, still blind, ran right into him.

  “Sorry,” he murmured.

  Gavin didn’t reply as he reached forward, feeling for something in the inky blackness. There was the sound of metal on metal, a creaking, and then light flooded out into the tunnel.

  Felix squeezed his eyes shut, then blinked several times in rapid succession. His vision gradually grew accustomed to the light as he followed Gavin down into a small, round room with three other entrances.

  The ceiling was low, except for in the very center, where a foot-wide channel led straight up and out of sight. A small fire crackled on the earthen floor beneath it, casting dancing shadows on the curved walls.

  A hooded man sat beside the fire, chopping some kind of root into small pieces. With a start, Felix realized it was the same man they’d seen earlier by the city gates.

  The man lowered his hood to reveal long, brilliant white hair and violet eyes.

  He looked at Gavin and frowned. “You could have brought some wood,” he said, by way of greeting. “I’m old, and it’s a very long walk, you know?”

  He stood and gestured for them to come closer. “Don’t just stand in the doorway. In or out, make up your mind. I’ve got some soup going for us.”

  “For us?” Felix asked in surprise. “How did you know we were coming?”

  “I saw you come into the city, and I saw you go out of the city.” The man held up an open palm and gestured lazily from side to side. “And then, I saw you come again. Very curious, indeed. I would recognize Gavin anywhere. He always did wear the uniform so well.”

  Gavin walked forward and gave the man a tight hug. “It’s good to see you again, Father.”

  “And you,” the man replied, nodding in Felix’s direction. “Hello, Felix.”

  Felix felt his eyebrows disappear beneath his hair. “How did you—”

  “Tut, tut, a master never divulges his secrets,” the Weaver said, holding up a finger while still smiling.

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “He’s kept tabs on you for your entire life. He promised Onyx he would.”

  “Wait, what?” Felix sank to the floor, wanting to sit before he fell over. “Are you saying...when you said he disappeared for a long time...this guy was in Sanctuary?”

  The Weaver’s eyes were full of sorrow. “From its first day, to its last—or so I thought. I harbored a great deal of guilt when I discovered what the Council had done. Guilt for failing the people of Sanctuary, but also for not saving you in particular. So, you’ll excuse me if I was more than a little surprised, seeing you in that Floater with Gavin, six months after Sanctuary was supposedly destroyed.”

  “But how did you know I wasn’t Laevus?” Felix asked. “Everyone else—”

  The Weaver gave a hearty laugh. “The day Gavin chauffeurs Laevus all over Imradia is the day I get appointed as The Most High Elder! So, tell me, young Felix, how is it that you’ve come to be here in Imradia after what transpired in Sanctuary?”

  Felix glanced at Gavin, who inclined his head.

  “Sanctuary wasn’t destroyed. We discovered the Council’s plans before they left, and we were able to stop them.”

  “We?”

  Felix nodded. “My friends and I. Some of them are here, with me, on this mission. One of them,” he swallowed hard, “one of them died saving the rest of us.”

  The Weaver’s expression was sympathetic. “I’m sorry for your loss. I, too, have lost many friends. Dear friends, whose sacrifices made our continued resistance possible.”

  With this, he cast a sad glance toward Gavin. “Do not let your friend’s sacrifice be in vain, Felix. Do not give up the good fight. Nor consider your own well-being to be more important than that of those around you.”

  “I’ve given you my reasons. I won’t defend them again,” said Gavin angrily. He must have recognized that the Weaver’s words were intended for him. “This isn’t my fight anymore. You were gone a long time, old man. You are the one who left, not me. Things have changed. Everything has changed.”

  The Weaver put his hands up in surrender, shaking his head. “Not enough, I’m afraid. And not for the better. But perhaps you’re right. Perhaps now is not the time.” His solemn face became an expression of genuine curiosity as he focused on Felix once more. “So, what brings you here to my humble shelter?”

  “Nero is holding the Culeian Ambassador prisoner,” answered Felix, wanting to head Gavin off before he tried to put a negative spin on the whole idea. “I want to free him and get him and my friends back through the Evenmire. Only...”

  “Only you don’t know where to find him?”

  Felix nodded.

  The Weaver clasped both hands behind his back and began to pace the small room in a slow circle, staring at his feet as he pondered Felix’s request. “As it turns out, I do know where to find your Ambassador. I’ve been following these proceedings with great interest. Things took an unexpected turn, did they not?” He looked sad. “Such an egregious loss of life...” He trailed off for a moment, then continued. “It just so happens that I have a man who can get you where you need to go. However...”

  “What? What is it?” Felix had gotten to his feet, too, and was following the man’s slow rotation around the room with hopeful eyes.

  “Getting him out will be the easy part. But getting you, him, and the rest of your friends back through the Evenmire before Nero discovers he’s gone? Well, that’s another matter entirely.”

  “How so?”

  “Nero has sent a dozen Envicti to stand watch at the Evenmire, in case the Culeians decide to send anyone else through to search for their missing comrade. It would seem that he swallowed that drivel about the Ambassador being the culprit. I thought he was smarter than that. But apparently, his hatred of Humanity outweighs his better judgment.” He shook his head. “Really, Gavin, how you could have let her go through with such a plan? Is the First Order so trivial to you both that you would allow this to happen? And even if you feel that way, I would at least think that you’d be smart enough to realize she could have gotten you all killed.”

  “You knew it was my mother’s doing?”

  The Weaver nodded. “It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, once I heard what had befallen the Elders. Poison always was her weapon of choice.”

  Felix’s face scrunched up as he struggled to keep track.

  “You talk about her like she was some kind of soldier or something. She was part of your group, then? A freedom fighter or something?”

  The Weaver looked grave. “Those who fight for freedom do not so readily take from others what can never be restored.”

  Gavin frowned. “Felix. Did you come here to learn history or save the Ambassador? Because we aren’t going to have a huge window of opportunity here once Nero realizes you haven’t returned with the prototype and the Ambassador turns up mis
sing.”

  “Right, right, sorry,” said Felix, “just trying to, well, doesn’t matter. Okay, so we can get to the Ambassador. The Envicti should pose no threat, as long as Ambrose can get Pluto up and running.”

  “What is a Pluto?”

  Felix chuckled. “It’s a homely little airship that seems to spend more time crashing than flying. Uh, but don’t tell Ambrose I said that.”

  “Who is—”

  “Never mind.” Felix waved his hand. Gavin was right, this was not the moment to discuss minutia. “Once we get the Ambassador out, the clock will start ticking. It’s only a matter of time before they realize he’s gone. We need to be through the Evenmire before they do. Gavin, you need to get back there and tell Ambrose to get a move on. Everyone needs to focus on getting Pluto running. Or at least limping. I’ll take anything at this point.”

  “Tobias gave me the ship’s radio frequency before we left,” Gavin said quickly. “I can contact them from the Floater.”

  “Great. You’d better go now, then.”

  Gavin nodded. “And what about you?”

  Felix looked at the Weaver, whose mischievous smile he took for confirmation. “I’m going with him. We’re going to get the Ambassador, then we’ll come and find you.”

  Thirteen

  Sweet Evenmire

  TRUE to his name, the Weaver wove his way through the maze of underground tunnels with ease, leaving Felix struggling to keep up.

  His feet were damp, and his boots made squelching sounds with every step. Fortunately, this trip was short compared to the path Gavin had taken him on to find the hideout in the first place.

  As he trailed behind, he kept going over the plan in his head, looking for any potential pitfalls. The one glaring concern, the one thing Felix did not want to think about, was Pluto. Even if they could make it through the Gate without the ship, they would have nowhere to go. They’d be left to freeze to death in Antarctica, unless the Envicti killed them first. No, he decided. Ambrose would fix the ship in time.

  There was no other way.