Darklight

by Greg L. Turnquist

  Daylight streamed into a hallway that had been dark a moment ago. The colonel scrambled to the roof and closed the door, trying to not rouse the tenants.

  “Check the doors,” growled a soldier. The voice was unmistakable. Crawling to the edge on hands and knees, Braknow peered down. Four soldiers had fanned out, checking doors.

  “Sir, they’re locked. He must have run. That barrel would have made it easy to get a good head start.”

  Another soldier was just a few feet from the door he’d entered. If they found him up here, it would all be over.

  “Split up into two teams. One running north, the other south. Let’s see if we can catch him.”

  The soldier who was a single pace from finding the colonel’s avenue of escape, stopped and turned, joining the others.

  His heart beating fast, the colonel pulled away from the edge and lay back, trying to not move at all. Drawing undue attention would be fatal.

  Snitch recast her spell of invisibility and headed toward the spot Townsend had shown. There were a lot more people out now. She ducked in and out of rooms to avoid collisions. With this much commotion, she wasn’t worried about making sounds or opening doors.

  But one thing nagged at her.

  How would they smuggle Renault out of here? She could cloak him with invisibility, but that wouldn't stop him from shouting. Carrying him out asleep would be just as hard.

  Snitch wasn’t convinced she could use divination to find a hatch from across the palace without emanating a visible aura. But if she was close enough, it might work. She entered an unoccupied room, sat in the corner, and projected her thoughts.

  Her mind floated up and about, thinking about hatches and tunnels. A dull throb drew her attention, and she floated toward it. Skimming through walls, she deduced why this area wasn’t clear on the map. Dust and rubbish were everywhere, the signs of abandonment.

  The throbbing pulled her to a sealed door that was painted over. Her mind whooshed past the barrier, and she spotted a hatch. It was covered with metal bars and locks. Someone must have once feared its existence and later tried to hide it.

  Noting its location, her mind retreated. The pressing issue of handling the duke raced in her mind. Snitch was about to reenter her body when she had a flash of insight. Whether it was magic or her old hat talent of connecting disparate bits of information, it didn’t matter.

  She veered away from her body and instead floated over to the far wall, her gut pushing her to continue. On the other side was a service tunnel caked with dirt, and beyond that was another room. The unique spark of Gavin’s presence radiated from the other side of the wall. That was it!

  Snitch’s mind hurriedly rejoined with her body. She took a deep breath and cast magic door spells to trace back to the duke’s quarters.

  She entered on the far end of the room, beyond where Renault sat, but no one looked in her direction. Her habit of tunnel walking was ingrained.

  Renault’s arms were moving back and forth when his hands came apart.

  Snitch’s focus moved to Gavin, who was on the other side of the room speaking to the sergeant.

  Townsend stared at his map.

  Looking back at Renault, the man reached under his pillow and drew out a small sword. He jumped to his feet and stormed Gavin from behind.

  Everything in Snitch's eyes slowed to a crawl. Gavin's head started turning, but his body didn't move as fast. The duke clambered step by step, his blade raised high. Gavin wasn't turning fast enough.

  Snitch's hands started to rise. At waist height, her fingertips lifted and cupped.

  The duke's sword was coming down. The angles between him and Gavin spelled disaster.

  “Heyah!” Snitch shouted as she fired a bolt of white energy. It knocked the duke to the ground, the sword out of his hand.

  Everything sped up to normal. Gavin kicked the blade away and extended his dagger.

  “Help! Help!” cried the duke.

  Feet stomped outside and banged against the door. After a couple hard heaves, they broke open. Two armed soldiers entered with weapons.

  Gavin, the sergeant, and Townsend only had daggers. Not good.

  “Not while I'm here!” Snitch yelled as she raised her arms above her head.

  White energy encased her fists, forming a big white band. She threw it at the soldiers, and it expanded and wrapped around them. Snitch drew her arms together until they crisscrossed. The white band of energy tightened around the guards and knocked them out.

  A third soldier stormed in past the sergeant.

  Grabbing the intruder from behind, the sergeant put the tip of his dagger to the soldier's back.

  The soldier put up his hands.

  The sergeant pushed him in and kicked the door shut before knocking him out with the pommel of his dagger.

  Townsend was on top of Renault, tying him up again.

  “Thanks,” Gavin said.

  “No time for talking. Let's get out of here. Follow me,” Snitch said.

  Gavin trailed behind her through the magical door with Townsend dragging Renault along.

  In less than a minute, they moved through the two rooms and the service tunnel to the hidden hatch. The magical doors vanished.

  “I hope you brought keys.” The sergeant pointed at the locks, his eyebrows quirked.

  Snitch stared at him smugly. Without breaking eye contact, she waved her hands in one simple gesture. The locks flew apart into bits of shredded metal. “Like that?”

  The sergeant cracked a smile.

  Gavin lifted the metal bars and opened the hatch. He climbed down and called for them to lower the duke. It was tricky. The man was not cooperative, but they managed. The sergeant went next, followed by Snitch. At the bottom, she let the springs close it.

  She turned on her pocket bulb.

  “Snitch?” Gavin said.

  She shuffled her feet down the tunnel, and everyone followed.

  “While I prefer silent walking, I think it’s best we travel with lights for the duke's sake.” Snitch guessed the question on Gavin’s mind. “By the way, I have some news regarding Melicose.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A New Goal

  Colonel Braknow had found a horse tied up in someone’s back yard. After verifying no one was home, he untied it and slipped away.

  Mounting the horse, he headed toward the gate. Not the main one but the less used one on the south side. A few blocks away, his hands shook, but he took a deep breath and told himself it would work.

  With his military career over, he had thrown his uniform into a fire pit in an alley fifteen blocks earlier. The people hugging the pit rubbed their hands over the new flames, their eyes glistening. But it didn’t last ten minutes. The scruffy coat he’d traded his field jacket for several nights ago became his new wardrobe.

  Having not shaved since the night he killed Everdell, Braknow took the nervous reaction and made it his new look. Whatever it took to get past the borders.

  Clang!

  The sound of metal on metal caught his ears. Turning the corner, Braknow narrowed his eyes on a tall, thin man standing just a few feet from a hatch.

  The man fidgeted, his hair wringing wet. With a brutish face he looked back, eyes squinted and shaded by his hand.

  “What are you doing?” the colonel asked.

  The man’s eyes darted back and forth.

  “Let me make this easy for you. I’m leaving Kelmar. Care to join me?”

  “H-How can I trust you?”

  “Do I look like some soldier ready to arrest an Undergrounder?” Braknow couldn’t afford twenty minutes of verbal dancing. Someone might notice. He had to confront his new recruit fast.

  “Perhaps not. Anything is better than running from Melicose’s military in the tunnels. Have another horse?”

  “No. In fact, we'll have to abandon it once we exit the city. It’s a gamble to draw such extra attention, but it will get us through the gate quicker.” The colonel’s eyes looked t
oward the gate.

  The wiry man bit his lip and slid his feet around. He looked up. “O-Okay. It’s a deal as long as you agree to not ask about who I used to be.”

  “Let’s make it mutual.” He extended his hand, and the sweaty man shook it. The soldiers might be looking for a well-kept colonel, but a pair of disheveled fleabags? Those were odds he preferred.

  They proceeded to the gate, the man walking beside the colonel.

  “Who goes there?” boomed the soldier’s voice.

  “Isaac,” the colonel said. “And Nicolas.” He gestured at his new friend.

  “Step closer.” The sentry flipped through a stack of papers. Looking up, the fixed his gaze first upon the man on foot.

  “What’s your business?” The soldier’s stare remained fixed on Braknow’s new partner.

  Trying to draw the focus away from his nervous companion, the colonel blurted out, “Planning to sell the horse to a farmer outside the city.” He pointed to the east. “Need the money to take care of my mother. My brother-in-law came to help. He doesn’t travel much, but I need him to close the deal.”

  The gate officer’s glare shifted to Braknow, eyes boring into him.

  Was drawing attention to himself a critical error? He licked his lips.

  “Everdell,” shouted the soldier.

  The word pierced the colonel. He hadn’t expected that. The pent-up energy from that night of confronting her swelled in his body. He wanted to scream, to let it all out. Channeling it into his hands and tightening his grip on the reins, his knuckles turned white.

  He scrunched his eyebrows. “Huh?”

  The man atop the gate lifted his chin and let out a breath. “Free to go.”

  Past the gate and around the bend of the southern road, the colonel released his lock on the reins.

  “What was that back there?”

  Stealing a glance at his new recruit, he resisted the desire to explain. “No idea.”

  The colonel climbed down and removed the saddle before shooing the horse away. She’d find her original owner. He hid the saddle in a nearby meadow under a patch of blackberry brambles.

  “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m not Isaac. You can call me Derek,” the colonel said.

  Time to leave everything behind.

  “Thanks for getting me out of there. You can call me Westing. And man have I had a rough day. Though it looks like I’m not the only one.”

  The colonel reached out and shook his hand before they proceeded on foot.

  It had been three days since they captured the old duke. Gavin still couldn't believe they pulled it off. One thing was certain. It would never have worked without Snitch’s help.

  Two days ago they enacted the rest of Rodrina’s plan, spreading rumors about the duke’s capture.

  “We need to make everyone think it’s a big secret and they're in on it,” she said.

  Snitch, Terrell, and a couple of others roamed several bars and less respectable locations. They muttered words anyone could overhear. Would people take the bait? Would their rumor catch on?

  His worry was all for naught, and he laughed as he listened to the reports.

  “Gavin, it was great. Snitch puffed out her chest and lowered her voice, 'Did you hear? Duke Renault is alive and captured!'”

  “'No way. That's impossible,’” Terrell said, feigning a surprised onlooker. “‘The man was executed two years ago.'”

  “Terrell, even I would have bought your act,” Gavin replied, laughing. He would have given anything to see them in action.

  Terrell executed a short bow as if on stage

  “We visited several places. The others did the same. Terrell and I split up and checked some of our usual contacts. I even stumbled into the Raiders to let myself get searched. Too bad Marlon wasn’t around. Green must have made a move to take over.” Snitch appeared to be reminiscing. “Well, anyway, we dropped the news. A few hours later, we checked some other establishments. It’s buzzing everywhere.”

  Gavin continued along the hallway, laughing. He and Rodrina had debated much. While he wanted to present the duke the next day at high noon in Central Square, Rodrina insisted on a certain finesse to ensure maximum effect.

  He turned a corner, reflecting on how they had made their appearance yesterday. His hand fingered his dagger. Rodrina was right. Approaching the soldiers at the palace required a certain tactic to avoid hostilities.

  They surfaced a couple blocks away from the palace with the duke in chains. Word had spread fast about this mysterious appearance. The crowd that formed was evidence enough. It seemed everyone wanted to be a part of whatever happened. When they arrived, Gavin approached the main gate where two soldiers were on duty.

  The men looked at each other then back at Gavin.

  Gavin squeezed his fingernails into his palm. This was it. Approaching with his hands up, unarmed, he held nothing but a piece of paper. He opened it and read its contents.

  “Attention soldiers, bureaucrats, and members of the regime of Melicose, we have captured Duke Renault. This previously convicted traitor to the people was found in the palace allied with Melicose, in possession of signed orders. He has been brought before the people to answer for his crimes. Any members of this traitorous regime that stands firm and does not join us in trying this man for past and present crimes will be considered accomplices.”

  He folded the letter, focused on the solider whose insignia labeled him the senior officer, and held it out. His eyes held the soldier’s. This was not the time to show weakness.

  The soldier snatched it and rushed inside.

  Gavin couldn’t help the smile that formed as he stared at the other soldier. The tides had turned. Time for them to be nervous.

  Gavin enjoyed the memory of that soldier sweating, at a loss while waiting for proper orders. And the look on the ranking officer’s face was unforgettable. When he'd returned outside, his face was contorted into a mixture of slanted eyebrows, gritted teeth, and a reddened face as he issued immediate orders for a unit to guard the criminal.

  This would be remembered as the turning point. Everything that followed would be simple ceremony. For a man that had already been convicted by a court of law and escaped a sentence, this was the fastest way to resolution. Not being cast before a judge, but instead the people, was swift and harsh. Were they right to try him this way? Mobs could get out of control, but they had to trust history to judge their actions.

  Gavin took the final steps onto the balcony and joined Clarel and Rodrina. The head of the military and the highest civilian member of Melicose’s government were also there, standing before a swelling crowd outside.

  Clarel reached out to Gavin.

  Closing the distance between them, he took her hand. His eyes searched hers, longing for the connection they had shared. Her eyes were bright and hopeful. Clarel’s lips parted, and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to them. His heart throbbed, and he moved closer. What had been impulsive days ago in the tunnels proved to be deeper. As the din of the crowd rose, Gavin reluctantly pulled back.

  Still a breath away from her, he nodded in the direction of the crowd. “I believe this is your arena,” he whispered. His heart fluttered, partly from the crowd, partly from kissing her.

  Clarel stared into his eyes, a smile on her face. She gripped his hand and held him close before facing the crowd. “Hear me! Hear me!”

  A hush fell over the crowd.

  “Duke Renault was discovered. A murderous man and a traitor to the people. And my father. He has been tried twice and found guilty both times. His sentence shall be carried out, swiftly.” She paused as the crowd cheered.

  Gavin smirked, knowing he would have to congratulate Rodrina on being right.

  “The military and those you may know as the Undergrounders have worked together, searching the palace top to bottom for Melicose. He is nowhere to be found. With the discovery of his accomplice, the duke, he has clearly fled in fear. Melicose was never a frie
nd of the people. He only pursued his own quest for power.”

  The crowd went wild.

  She paused.

  Gavin stared at this strong, confident woman. Seeing her find her place warmed his body. Her care and sincerity was something the people needed, and it made Gavin proud.

  “From this day forward, all past conflicts between the military, the government, and any resistance have been forgiven. Anyone who does not accept this new armistice shall be considered an enemy of the people and prosecuted by the newly formed provisional government. Civilian and military representatives will soon meet to discover our path. Pay heed. We will send word, summoning others from each zone in the city to speak as well. This is a historic day. Let us all rejoice in our freedom!”

  Snitch slipped away from the festivities, from the excitement—and definitely to get away from the curdling screams as the townspeople cheered the duke’s execution. Something about it wasn’t as gratifying as she had expected.

  While happy to hear Clarel’s speech, a bigger burden weighed on her heart. Entering an adjacent building, she walked toward her room when stomping feet approached from behind. She turned.

  Gavin stood in the hallway, concern etched on his face. “I had a feeling you were leaving.”

  How did he know? “I have something to do. Not sure I can explain it.”

  Gavin thrust his hands in his pockets and stared at his boots.

  What was he thinking?

  “I knew about Glantham’s mentalist abilities. He said I was his anchor, but not much more than that.”

  Snitch’s mouth opened then closed. Could she trust him? How much?

  He looked up, and for the first time, she saw a hint of softness. Had that always been there, and she just didn't see it due to their old, entrenched habits?

  “When he saved us from that patrol, he crossed some sort of line, didn’t he?” Gavin raised his eyebrows. “Seeing how you saved my life from the duke, I’m guessing you have learned some of what he knew. And Melicose?”

  “Melicose was about to cross the same line but much worse. Might have destroyed everyone. Glantham turned it against him, but it cost him his life. I can't let anyone else know about it.”