“We hid much from them, perhaps too much,” he said. “They sensed their world incomplete, and Johan preyed on that uncertainty. Now the dome has collapsed, and the existence of the fireborn has been revealed in a night of slaughter and confusion. Who can blame them for their mistrust? We are their safekeepers, yet where were we when fire rained from the sky?”
“That doesn’t excuse their rebellion,” Jaina said. Doors passed them, one after the other, as they descended. “Secrets are tumbling out, one after the other, each one destabilizing our hard-earned peace. Not since the Ascension has humanity’s fate been at such risk. This cannot continue unabated. The fireborn found a way to assault us. How long until the other creatures do the same? The skies are no longer safe to us. Nowhere is.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Marius asked, whirling on her. “Do you think I’m blind to the rot spreading beneath our feet? I’ve done everything I can to stop its spread, but the damage is done. Worrying about it accomplishes nothing. All that matters now is how we react to the changing circumstances. Perhaps, once this madness is finished, the people will understand our measures instead of distrusting them.”
Marius resumed descending the stairs, passing many exits leading to deep catacombs.
“But what of the rebellions?” Jaina asked. “You’re not going to let them go unpunished, are you?”
“Of course not. The very existence of our species is at stake. We cannot allow this infighting to go on. Rebellion is like a fire. Either you stamp it out immediately, or it spreads to consume everything you hold sacred.”
“Have you thought to speak with the angels?” Jaina said. She spoke hesitantly, as if fearful of his reaction. “They may have wisdom on how to handle these difficult matters.”
“I have spoken with them,” Marius said, sighing. He stopped again so he might address her. “They don’t know what to do. When Ch’thon died, and Galen collapsed, the rest couldn’t keep the protective dome stable against the assault of the shadow that swallowed the world. It’s frightened them, Jaina. You can’t imagine what it’s like to be in the presence of a frightened lightborn. It sucks the breath out of your lungs, and it makes you feel like...like the world is ending.”
Jaina hardened her jaw and stared him in the eye.
“Perhaps it is,” she said.
Marius shook his head.
“Not yet,” he said. “Not while I still wield the power of Heavenstone.”
Thirteen floors down, Marius stopped and knocked twice on the heavy iron door. A slit opened, a set of eyes peering out momentarily before the slit reclosed. Two locks opened from the other side, and then the door swung open. A knight bowed before them, welcoming them in.
“I am glad you’ve come,” the knight said. “The creatures seem much more anxious than normal.”
The room was an enormous square, each side more than a hundred feet long. It was lit by light elements, their glow dimmed by the heavy smoke collecting about the ceiling. Fifty enormous furnaces were stationed equidistant from one another, the paths between them filled with theotechs. Their red robes were covered with ash, and they carried a variety of iron pokers, knives, and hooks. Beside each furnace was a small table, iron manacles bolted to the center. From within the furnace Marius heard the scraping, clawing, and laughing of the imprisoned fireborn.
Even if the knight hadn’t mentioned it, Marius would have known something was amiss. The fireborn were normally docile in their captivity, only rousing and attempting escapes every few years. To have them all so active was unnerving.
“Do you think they know of last night’s collapse?” Jaina asked.
“I believe they do,” Marius said. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”
Marius crossed through the center of the room, theotechs bowing in respect as he passed. He stopped at one of the tables, where a fireborn lay manacled to the center, each arm clamped at the wrist by a small loop of iron. A theotech held a long rod of steel with a curved end, and he kept it pressed against the fireborn’s neck, acting as a fifth manacle. Another took a knife to the creature’s arm and cut its coal-like skin. Blood poured out as the thing shrieked and twisted against the manacles.
“Have any tried to escape?” Marius asked as he watched a third theotech slide a glass vial against the wound, collecting the blood.
“No, your grace,” the theotech said as she withdrew the vial, capped it so the fluid wouldn’t coalesce from contact with the air, and then placed a new vial beneath. “They’re active, but without any apparent reason.”
Marius thought the reason apparent enough, but didn’t bother to discuss it. The last thing he wanted to do was distract her during the dangerous task of withdrawing blood from one of the demons. Bidding them to carry on, he continued to the far side. Several of the furnaces were empty of fireborn, but the one in the corner was not. A theotech stood beside it, peering through the dual grates of the furnace.
“Is this one of the ones we captured last night?” Marius asked him.
“It is.”
Marius took in a deep breath and steeled his nerves.
“Get it out,” he ordered.
The theotech whistled for others to join so they might begin the process. Before the lock on the grate was removed a theotech slid a long, thin bar of iron through a slit in the left grate. Its end was curved, and with a few quick jabs the theotech pinned the fireborn by the neck against the opposite side of the furnace. Once pinned, they opened the right grate, two theotechs sinking curved hooks into the demon’s arms. With an ease obtained by performing the maneuver countless times before, the two hauled the fireborn out of the furnace, swung it over the table, and dropped it down in the middle of the various attached clamps.
One by one the theotechs shut the manacles, trapping the demon. Once it was safely immobilized the theotechs stepped away, allowing Marius to approach. He knelt before the fireborn and stared into its obsidian eyes.
“This was what you were waiting for,” he said. “Every night for six centuries you’ve danced upon the dome, trying to claw your way through. Is that how much you hate us? You can’t suffer we few to survive?”
The fireborn opened its mouth, whether in a snarl or a grin, Marius couldn’t tell. You never could with demons. The only certainty was when you heard their shrill, mocking laughter.
“Well, you’re here now,” Marius continued. “You fell from the sky, and whatever of your kind we failed to capture, we crushed to ash. Was this it? Six centuries, and we defeat you in a single night?”
Those obsidian eyes narrowed. Faint ghost-light sparkled in their centers, a hint of the intelligence he knew the thing possessed. It was pure evil given fiery form, and Marius wished he could wipe their existence from the land forever. If only they’d perfected the alternative. If only Er’el Tesdon’s experiments had yielded far better results.
“Where were the rest of your kind?” he asked. “Where are the iceborn, the stoneborn? Why did only you attack?”
Still nothing. Marius grabbed the long iron poker from the furnace and rammed it into the creature’s side. It howled as the poker sank into its flesh, which bubbled and hissed. “Where is your master, fiend? Where is the shadow that swallowed the world? He’s hiding among us, isn’t it? Tell me where. Tell me!”
“Animals,” the fireborn spat, and Marius recoiled in surprise. Not once, in all his years, had he heard the creatures speak a single word after being taken captive. The other theotechs startled, staring in horror as the beast lifted its head and addressed Marius directly.
“You scared, stupid animals,” it said, its voice piercing the sudden quiet. “We come. From all corners of your world, we come. From the seas. From the volcanoes. From the dark places. You cannot hide here. You are not beyond our reach. Take our blood, but we will take yours. We will feast. Your islands will fall, one by one, they will fall, and we will feast...”
Its speech descended into vicious, mocking laughter. Marius jabbed it again with the poker,
but the pain only made it laugh louder. He handed the poker off to a nearby theotech, then bade Jaina to follow him as he stormed away.
“The first time one of those creatures decides to talk and it can’t bother to say anything worthwhile,” Marius grumbled.
“Six centuries they tried to reach us, and now they have,” Jaina said. “Of course the thing would gloat.”
“They haven’t won anything,” Marius said, spinning to glare at her. “So long as we’re in the skies they can only leer up in futility, and should any find a way to ascend, we’ll fight them, just like we fought them in the days of old.”
He exited the room, returning to the stairs and continuing deeper into the bowels of Heavenstone, stopping when he reached the seventeenth floor down. From his pocket he pulled out a golden key, its base lined with rubies. The skeleton key for all of Heavenstone. Marius inserted the key into the door lock, turned it, but did not enter immediately.
“The current upheaval distracts us from our true foe, something we cannot afford,” he said. “Weshern must be crushed, immediately and thoroughly. The Skyborn twins have become the island’s beacon of hope, particularly Breanna now that she’s adopted the Phoenix moniker. We must end their inspiration, no matter the cost. They’re young, foolish, and naïve. Damaging them psychologically will not be hard.”
Jaina’s eyes widened as she realized where they’d arrived.
“He’s the last remnant we have of Tesdon’s transfusion program,” she said. “Should he die...”
“He won’t,” Marius said. “And even if he does, we’ve learned all we can from his blood. Weshern’s rebellion must be stopped before causing irreparable destruction, which means utilizing every weapon in our arsenal, even those we hold most dear.”
He pushed open the door and stepped inside, Jaina at his heels. The room was small and brightly lit with light elements shimmering from diamond-shaped insets in the ceiling. In one corner was a bed, and a desk next to it. Various weights lay scattered about the stone floor. Opposite the bed was a tall wood cylinder made up of three individually rotating pieces. Additional poles stuck out at various lengths and intervals off its sides. A bare-chested man stood before it, striking the various poles with his fists and elbows, setting it to rotating. Sweat trickled down his finely muscled body.
Upon hearing the door open, the man turned. His head was shaved, revealing tattoos that covered every inch of his face and scalp, thin lines that twisted and turned without any apparent beginning or end. All across his shoulders, chest, and arms were pale ritual scars applied over the last five years. Upon seeing Marius, he immediately dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
“I am honored you’d grace me with your presence, Speaker,” he said. “What would you ask of me?”
Marius put a hand on Liam Skyborn’s head, and he peered down with pride at the culmination of years of careful work and effort.
“My loyal knight,” he said. “There are two Seraphs I need you to kill...”
EPILOGUE
Johan walked the underground tunnels of the Crystal Cathedral with a smile on his face. Rebellions were rising up on all four minor islands, and from what information he’d received from Center, Marius’s people were still battling the last of the fireborn that had torched their crops and burned several of their cities to the ground. The attack on the Crystal Cathedral had been a last-ditch attempt by Marius to keep control of Weshern firmly in his hands, and they’d soundly defeated it. All in all, the day could not have gone better.
Still, there were a few loose ends that needed tying up. Johan stopped before the door to the first. A single disciple stood guard, a spear in hand.
“Leave us,” Johan ordered.
The guard bowed low, then hurried down the bright corridor. Johan slid the bolt lock free, then flung open the door. The lone prisoner sat up against the smooth walls of his cell, arms crossed over his knees. The blond-haired man said nothing, only stared at him as Johan entered, shut the door behind him, and stood with his arms crossed.
“Hello, Edwin,” Johan said.
“You don’t look like the other theotechs,” Edwin said. Despite his surroundings he looked fairly clean and healthy. Assuming the Speaker threw him in there immediately after the public executions, the man had been in there only for two days. “Are you some sort of secretive brown-robed executioner?”
Johan grinned down at him.
“The theotechs have their secretive killers,” he said. “But no, I am not one of them. Do you not recognize me, Edwin? My name is Johan Lumens, and I’ve overthrown the cowards of Center who imprisoned you here.”
The guarded bitterness immediately vanished from Edwin’s face. His eyes widened, and he sat up straighter.
“You’re here to free me?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” Johan said. “There is the matter of your cooperation with Marius to consider.”
The man paled slightly.
“I did what I thought was best for Weshern,” he said carefully. “The Speaker promised us a return to rule once matters settled down and he declared our island safe.”
“Safe,” Johan said, and he chuckled at the word. “Marius would never have left, for your island will never be safe.” He knelt down on his haunches, meeting the man’s eye. “So now I consider, what happens if I release you to your parents?”
Johan knew Edwin was always the smarter of the Archon’s sons, and he proved it now with how quickly he surmised the situation.
“If my parents are free, and you’ve taken this cathedral, then you’ve scored a major victory against Center,” he said. “We’ve declared war, haven’t we? Then you’ll want to sway all hearts toward the effort. I can do that. Free me, and I’ll go to my father, throw myself before the holy mansion’s steps, and beg his forgiveness. That’s what you want, isn’t it? A nice public spectacle as I recant ever working with Center?”
Johan rubbed his chin.
“Such a performance would indeed foster the growing war effort,” he said. “On the other hand, your father’s hatred of Center is strong, but not overwhelming enough for me to trust him to see this war to its logical end.” Johan shook his head. “Too many know your brother’s death was an accident during the chaos of battle. But if their other son were executed by Marius in retribution for rebellion...”
Edwin’s mouth dropped open. His body tensed to act, but Johan was faster. His pale hand latched around Edwin’s neck. Tightening. Crushing. Slowly Johan rose to his feet, lifting the man up with him. Edwin struggled and kicked, but his blows meant nothing. Johan lifted him higher, Edwin’s toes dangling above the stone floor as his face turned blue. His fingers clutched Johan’s wrist so tightly his knuckles were white, but his strength was a child’s compared to Johan’s.
One final squeeze, and the spine snapped.
“Good riddance,” Johan said, and he dropped the corpse to the floor. “You were the better of the brothers, but you were still a petulant child.”
Johan stepped out of the cell, pulled his hood back over his head, and glared at the light elements embedded into the ceiling. Something would need to be done about those. Even with the cover of his hood the false illumination was painful. Johan traveled down the hallway, then paused before the grand double doors covered with archaic markings. He pressed a hand to one door and hesitated. There was no reason for him to go inside. None but pride.
He pushed it open and entered anyway.
The deep hum washed over him, vibrating his very being. Craning his neck, he looked up at the towering porcelain creature and shook his head at the awful sight. Tubes punctured the lightborn’s flesh all through her arms, legs, and sides. Vibrant blood seeped out of her, pulsing with each heartbeat. She stirred, the cavernous room shaking with her every movement.
“Another stranger come to visit?” she asked. Her voice sang in his mind, familiar from so very long ago.
“Not a stranger,” Johan said. “Hello, L’fae.”
The lightborn tilte
d her head, and she leaned down with a groan of steel and stretching of tubes. Johan removed his hood and then stepped closer, closer, until the light of her essence shone upon him, burning away his flesh to reveal the shadow swirling underneath.
“L’adim?” L’fae shouted, the psychic scream overwhelmingly loud. She recoiled, supports screeching, tubes twisting, the blood pulsing out of her body all the faster. As the glow pulled back, Johan’s flesh re-formed, his lips already locked in a grin.
“It still surprises me the lengths you went to save these wretched creatures,” Johan said as he pulled his hood back over his head. “No, not surprises. Nothing of your foolishness surprises me, not anymore. You merely disappoint me, L’fae.”
Lightborn did not have facial expressions like humans did, but Johan knew oh-so-well how to read the psychic emanations rolling off L’fae, and they stank of sadness and despair.
“When Galen fell, that was you, wasn’t it?” she asked. “You slew Ch’thon.”
“I did, while everyone was distracted killing each other in another senseless battle humanity is so obsessively fond of,” Johan said. “He died slowly, of course. I had to leave myself time to escape before that pointless chunk of rock hit the ocean.”
Anguish added to the glow, overwhelming in its power. It quivered inside him, and Johan steeled himself against the emotions he once felt.
“Will you...will you slay me as well?” she asked, unable to look him in the eye. Johan shook his head, disappointed. Clearly the centuries hooked up to these machines had drained more than just her blood. Where was the stubborn willpower that had resulted in this ridiculous last-ditch attempt to escape from his grasp? Where was the passion and anger that had fueled them in their long war against his gathered might?
“No,” Johan said. “Not yet. Why send another minor island crashing to the ground when Center yet remains? My dear L’fae, I have far greater plans than that.”
Fireborn Page 40
