“DUCK!”
Bryson didn’t know who shouted the command, but he did as instructed and was thankful he did. Dozens of blades pierced the air, crossing every which way through the telecluster. Bryson uncovered his head and slowly looked up.
Dammit. The grass had been severely shortened.
Bryson dropped to his stomach and crawled on his elbows, sucking in the scent of dirt and sweat. More blades soared above, and this time he heard the unmistakable cry of Flen at the center. Everything was going wrong; they were failing the objective.
Light was sucked from the field as a black inferno circled the group, serving as a barrier. But Bryson knew it hadn’t done much, if anything at all. He could hear the footsteps of the Dev Assassins all around him. At this point, all Bryson could do was lie on the ground and not move, allowing the pitch black to swallow his presence. He was hopeless against twenty Dev Assassins. The only people who could fend them off were the three Passion Assassins: Himitsu, Fane, and Horos.
Still, three against twenty were terrible odds, so Bryson resorted to his final gimmick. He hated doing it, but he had no choice with his friends’ lives at stake. A cluster of white lights converged next to him, managing to overpower the darkness of the flames. He pressed his face into the dirt and shielded his eyes from the celestial light. Usually, Thusia’s summoning didn’t inflate his spirit anymore, but considering the distress he was presently under, it must have done something. His stomach and chest relaxed, and his head stopped pounding.
Thusia appeared with a momentary look of confusion as she assessed the situation, but then Bryson lost sight of her as her light disappeared and the flames swallowed the field once more. He simply hoped that she was enough to take care of the mess they’d stumbled into.
No more than a couple minutes later, Bryson felt a calm return to the meadow. The flames dispersed, and the moonlight bathed them again. He slowly pushed himself to his knees, and then his feet. As he rose from a squat, he remained cautious of his environment. All around the telecluster, he saw other heads rising above the grass.
Thusia stood at the center, slightly elevated since she stood on a teleplatform. Blood streaked her cheek, likely not from a wound of her own. As the group stared at her, she crouched out of sight, popping back up with a limp body in her clutches.
“Who’s this baby?” she asked.
“He’s not dead, is he?” Bryson asked.
Thusia slapped his face a few times with a frown. The servant whined and writhed in her grasp. “Doesn’t sound like it. He has a dagger in his shoulder ... but he’s wearing burgundy.” She inspected him from top to bottom and casually remarked, “I can make him dead.”
“No!” Bryson, Himitsu, and Vuilni shouted in unison.
Someone began cackling, causing Thusia to turn toward the source. “Hello, Horos.”
“Thusia, good to see you haven’t changed a bit.”
“Death has no power over my personality,” she said. “How are you treating Ophala?”
Toshik cleared his throat, stepping forward through the grass and approaching the platform. “We don’t have time for this; we need to get back to the Intel Kingdom now.”
Thusia’s cerulean eyes fell to the swordsman. She nodded and thrust Flen into his arms before stepping off the stage and heading for Bryson.
“Thank you,” Bryson said, Thusia stopping in front of him.
Her gaze turned solemn. “Twenty Dev Assassins, Bryson? That’s reckless even for you. How do you end up in such a situation?”
He shrugged. “Long story, but it’s the nature of war. Every mission is high risk, high reward.”
Thusia’s gaze lingered a moment longer before she embraced him in a hug. “Summon me more, and don’t wait until circumstances are dire like this. When assassins are involved—especially in this quantity—even a Branian would have struggled. Only reason why it was easy for me was because I’m not just a Branian, but an assassin, too.”
“What about Debo?” Bryson asked. “How would he have handled it?”
“Depends on which alias you’re speaking of. Ataway or Debo would have struggled, but Pogu Debonicus would have obliterated them.” She smiled and kissed his forehead. “Don’t die on me, kid.” And with that, she burst into a cluster of white lights.
Bryson waited for the orbs to disappear before refocusing on the group. Himitsu, Horos, and Fane had stepped onto a teleplatform separate from the one Flen had studied. The group circled them, clearly confused as to what they were doing. Bryson reached the platform just as Vuilni asked, “Why can’t you tell us?”
“Because our objective requires us to play the role of spies,” Himitsu explained. “Thus, we cannot divulge information. But I promise you that it’s nothing dangerous. The work ahead of us should be quite boring.”
Bryson smiled and said, “Good luck, guys.” His gaze shifted to the tiny support poles on the platform, reaching no higher than Himitsu’s knees, designed to be shorter than the surrounding prairie grass. “... and hold on tight.”
After the Passion Assassin trio said their goodbyes to the group, Fane flipped a switch on the control board. Unlike traditional teleplatforms, the controls weren’t separated from the stage. Instead they stood next to it.
As the platform jerked into motion, Himitsu crouched and hugged the beam, closing his eyes, either out of focus or fear.
“Time to head back,” Olivia said, wasting no time once the trio disappeared.
“I like that plan,” Flen said. The dagger still protruded from his shoulder, but at least he had his sketches and notes folded in his hand.
Toshik shoved him forward. “You can walk on your own.”
Flen grimaced. “Can someone at least tend to my wound.”
As the group walked, Horos sighed and reached into a bag that Fane was carrying. He retrieved some gauze and other medical supplies. Bryson, meanwhile, stuck to the back of the line. He missed Himitsu’s presence already.
10
Boarded and Seized
As the platform’s rotation slowed, Himitsu, Horos and Fane appeared in a pitch black room. The platform had been eerily quiet. Usually the devices made some kind of noise, but these had likely been constructed to better serve silent transportation.
The assassins held their ground, allowing their eyes to adjust before stepping off. None of them spoke, wary of the potential presence of guards. After a few seconds, Himitsu could spot shelves standing throughout the room. They seemed to have been placed randomly—some against the walls, others in the middle of the floor. Had they teleported into a cellar somewhere?
Please don’t let this be a chamber in the dungeons of the palace, Himitsu thought.
Once they stepped off the platform, Himitsu tried to stay close behind the two older assassins. He had a problem with patience. They had more experience in situations such as this, so they knew how to creep along. Himitsu tended to be a bit too aggressive with his movements.
He didn’t like the ambience of this empty room. Where was the security?
He got his answer when they approached a thin entranceway set into the top of a wall. Light from the moon and stars streaked through the cracks between the planks of wood, and the shape of at least one person could be made out. Himitsu looked to his dad for guidance.
Horos held up five fingers before dropping them one by one. Once his final finger fell, he ignited a black flame, robbing light from the area outside. Himitsu already had his hand on the bottom rung of the ladder. He climbed and blasted the door open with his palm. He hit something solid—likely the person he’d seen standing guard—and, based off the sound of shuffling footsteps, sent him stumbling backward.
“Intru—” Himitsu clasped his hand over the man’s mouth, stifling his warning shout. Alas, others throughout the street had already been alarmed. Himitsu released the man and punched him as hard as he could, knocking him out cold.
“Let’s go,” his father whispered.
Himitsu took off with F
ane next to him. They followed the abyss, trusting Horos to guide the way. After all, it was his flames that were swallowing the roads and concealing their presence to the guards. They ran for what had to be miles, turning with the flames, following their repugnant scent. Finally, the fire dispersed, and moonlight was restored.
They were in the farthest ghettos of Phelos, where no lanterns lit the streets of rock-speckled dirt. Himitsu came close to twisting his ankle in a ditch a couple times. Nothing with wheels could have traversed these roads. Crude shacks lined the roadside, windowless and no taller than a single story. It resembled a ghost town, something comparable to how Lilu once described the city of Spachny in the Cyn Kingdom. Still, they made it a point to stick to the shadows.
Beggars and unfortunate urchins were curled against walls. Nobody asked the assassins for coin or favor. Instead, they ducked their heads into tattered, oversized cloaks, likely viewing the strangers as a threat. A pang of pity coursed through Himitsu. These civilians didn’t deserve the fate given to them by a never-ending line of corrupt leaders. From Dolomarpos to Itta to Toth—when would it stop?
Like most cities in the Light Realm’s five kingdoms, Phelos wasn’t walled. There were a couple exceptions to this trend—Brilliance being one of them, according to Lilu’s stories.
The assassins paused several hundred feet away from one of the city’s many exits as they peeked around the corner. This may have been a lesser road belonging to a poor sector, but it was still heavily manned.
Fane glanced back into the alley’s depths. “Let’s take advantage of the small buildings,” he whispered. “Traverse the roofs.”
They each leapt, grabbing the edge of the wooden rafters and pulling themselves up. The sharp slope of the triangular roof provided cover from the city entrance. They crawled up until they could peer over the crest.
Horos ducked and whispered, “Seven buildings from here until freedom. The roofs practically touch each other, so we shouldn’t have to worry about falling. Still, be wary when traversing the downward slopes. There’s a tiny gap at the bottom. Don’t get any limbs stuck.”
He conjured his unique flames, wiping the street clean of light. Distant shouting immediately followed. Himitsu leapt over the crest and slid down the slanted roof until he felt the toe of his shoe connect with the neighboring roof. Regaining his footing, he immediately skipped to the next one. He counted each roof he crossed, and once he reached the seventh, he trusted his dad’s earlier words and dropped to the ground.
His hand met grass as he landed. Bolting forward, he put as much distance as he could between him and the city, following the scent of the flames, wending with the path that his father carved out.
Once the fire disappeared, Himitsu collapsed, catching his breath while on his knees. He gazed around to see Fane and Horos a few dozen paces away in opposite directions. Turning back, he saw officers scouring the dirt road within the city’s boundary, while others walked into the field directly outside the border.
Himitsu smiled and shook his head. He then laughed. His father and Fane joined in moments later. “What’s it like on a mission with your old man and his oldest friend?” Horos asked.
Himitsu rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “A little less organized than I would have thought.”
After regaining his breath, Fane said, “Off to Balle.”
* * *
Toono, Kadlest, Yama, and Illipsia traveled across a wooden bridge west of Balle, one of the Archaic Kingdom’s two major cities alongside the capital. But labeling it as a major city was generous, for it was quite small when compared to other metropolitan beasts across the Light Realm.
A caravan spanned the bridge’s midpoint. One woman stepped forward from a gathering of officers dressed in green and orange uniforms—the newly formed Lamaylian Army.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Toono said, his hands concealed within his cloak.
Her eyes skated across the group before landing on the staff on Toono’s back. “You are the Rogue Demon?”
Kadlest smirked, but Toono simply replied, “Toono will do.”
“I’m going to need more than a staff with holes in it to verify such information,” she stated.
“Of course,” Toono said, reaching into his trouser pocket and retrieving a handful of gems. He split apart the front of his cloak to reveal them, keeping them close to his body.
The woman did well in masking her shock. The gems were unique, making diamonds appear dull and lifeless. She nodded and turned toward the rest of the officers. “Ready a wagon! Gregory, send word to Brench headquarters that the Rogue Demon has arrived!”
A burly man with shoulders set like a window ledge pulled the reigns of his horse. He spurred its side, sending it galloping across the length of the bridge.
Moments later, the group boarded a rather naked wagon, fitted with two wooden benches.
“I apologize the ride isn’t as flattering as expected for those of your stature, but this was all we were given,” the woman explained, gazing into the back.
Toono smiled. “Not a problem.” Muffled shouts came from a travel bag set on the floor near his legs. He quickly kicked it. As the woman’s gaze fell curiously down to the source, he said, “That’ll be all. Thank you, ma’am.”
She shut the back doors, and Illipsia whined, “Let him breathe, Toono!”
Toono reached down and untied the string. The bag opened to reveal the head of a lynx, as it sat atop layers of its own fur. “People ...” the lynx said, eyes darting around the wagon. “Actual people!”
“Silence,” Toono said with an exasperated sigh. “Only reason why you’re not in the dark is because of Illipsia, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear the sarcasm.”
“Hi, Meow Meow!” the girl screamed.
The strange entity glared at Illipsia. “Why must she call me that? It’s embarrassing. I do not meow.”
Illipsia opened her mouth to say something, but Toono’s stern glare stopped her in her tracks. He wasn’t exactly sure how Dimiourgos’s memory operated, but he refused to have anyone mention Olivia’s name around him in case it caused him to remember. Yama’s presence was cause for enough concern already. Every time the lynx’s eyes laid on her, Toono swore they’d pause for a moment.
They traveled over gravel roads until reaching a vast building on the eastern side of the city, against the kingdom’s biggest river. Balle sat nestled in the corner of two intersecting rivers. The main river ran along the eastern border while the significantly smaller one—the one they’d crossed earlier—stretched up the western side.
They stepped off the wagon and looked up at the sprawling manor that served as Brench Craft’s new headquarters. Masts pierced the sky behind the building. The reason King Toth chose Balle was because of its location. It had the only body of water within the kingdom that could safely support his merchant vessels.
Toono tugged at the rope of his bag, enclosing the head of Dimiourgos inside once again. He pressed forward, following an escort that had awaited their arrival at the front gate. This building hadn’t always served as a hub of commerce. Originally, it had been the home of the mayor. Its docks in the back were meant for transporting aristocrats and bureaucrats throughout the kingdom, but Toth had them repurposed for trade.
Another man waited for them at the front door, clearly different than anyone Toono had met up to this point. As they followed him through the building, Toono asked, “What’s your name?”
“Kuiku Fito.”
Toono recognized it, but it was Kadlest who then asked, “The Adren Corporal?”
“I haven’t been called that for quite some time,” he replied. “But yes, such a time once existed.”
“How do you feel about the relocation of Mr. Brench’s business?” Toono said.
Kuiku went silent as they stepped out a back door and descended a grassy hill. “It was a rough and daring transition, but I think it’ll pay off.”
Toono eyed the man’s sheathed b
lade. Spunka spines decorated the scabbard, giving it a bony look.
“Why did you retire?” Yama asked, surprising Toono and Kadlest. “You were staring down a promotion to become major when you did.”
Kuiku studied Yama with an unreadable expression. “You are young. I’m impressed you’re familiar with such history.”
“I’ve always kept track of the Adrenian elites. While most kids fought each other, I compared myself to the highest military ranks.”
The man turned forward and didn’t reply. Instead, he stopped once they arrived at a dock much smaller than the others nearby. He waved down its expanse and said, “That boat is yours. It should match the exact size requirements you gave to King Toth.”
“Thank you for everything,” Toono said, walking down the dock without so much as a glance back.
It was a small ship—still big enough to require three masts, however. Toono, Yama, Kadlest, and Illipsia walked up a boarding plank and onto the main deck. The ship was empty—absent of even a single soul. Toono gazed up into the masts, the sails rolled tight with rope. This would take time to prepare—especially since he was the only one with sailing knowledge. It was something he and Agnos had studied frequently as children.
“Alright, ladies. Just follow my instructions and we’ll disembark within the hour.” Walking to the deck’s guard rail, he spotted a handful of sailors down the dock. “I need your help on the capstan!” Toono yelled.
Yama’s brows furrowed. “We don’t need anyone’s help for anything.”
“Alright, why don’t you give the capstan a whirl and find out what it feels like trying to lift a two-ton anchor out of the river’s depths,” Toono said. “You might be a lot stronger than those sailors, but you’ll still need their collective help.”
Turning away, Yama headed for the opposite rail. Toono glanced at Kadlest, who’d expressed her disdain for bringing Yama along many times. She simply shook her head.
* * *
An hour later, the group set sail. Morning and afternoon passed, and even the evening hours slipped away unexpectedly. Toono found himself in the captain’s cabin with Yama, leaning back in a crude wooden chair. He stared out the window, watching as the bay grew smaller behind them. They had crossed into the Archaic River, one of the five Realm Rivers. They were no longer in Archaic Kingdom territory.
The Chronicle Page 10
