The Chronicle

by David F. Farris

  Lilu frowned; that wasn’t exactly the reaction she had expected. After some thought, however, it made sense. Gracie wasn’t like most.

  “I believe you,” Gracie said. “But what would your father want with my uncle?”

  Lilu shrugged. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” Knowing her father, it was probably something that involved Jugtah risking his life. Of course, she wouldn’t share that with Gracie.

  Gracie sat up. “I suppose I can stop worrying. What’s safer than being with the royal family?”

  Many places, Lilu thought.

  The two ladies dwelled in their thoughts until Gracie turned and stared at Lilu. “Who is Bryson, and why did you never mention your sister’s pregnant? Based off your father’s tone in his letters, he sounded excited about it, but at the same time he seemed delicate with his word choice ... as if he was worried about how you’d react.”

  Lilu’s eyes narrowed. “Will you stop dissecting my personal business?”

  Gracie’s lips puckered, her eyes widening as she looked off to the side. “Sorry.”

  Sitting up and snatching the letters, Lilu said, “I regret showing you these.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Gracie said, snickering to herself.

  Lilu got up and returned the stack to its home in the drawer. “Just make sure you’re ready for tonight.”

  Gracie coughed forcefully, grabbing her chest. “I can’t. I’m sick.”

  “Shut up,” Lilu said. “You’re my partner in crime, whether you like it or not.”

  With a slow nod, Gracie’s eyes grew lazy. “Living life on the edge.”

  Lilu laughed. “You’re not cool. Now go get ready.”

  * * *

  Lilu frowned as she peered over the stone ledge on the roof of her apartment that overlooked Brilliance’s main intersection. Frederick did the same next to her. Gracie and Limone, meanwhile, giggled quietly, as they sat with their back to the ledge.

  Lilu glanced down at them. “Do you two even care about this?”

  “Can we not have a tickle fight to help calm our nerves?” Gracie asked.

  Lilu rolled her eyes and turned back toward the edge.

  “I don’t know about this,” Frederick whispered. “There is no way we can access that secret latch with the amount of patrolmen surrounding it.”

  “Don’t you lose hope on me, too,” Lilu said.

  “It’s better than losing sense and getting locked up because of it.”

  Growing more annoyed by the second, Lilu exhaled forcefully. This could have been so much easier had she been accompanied by the Jestivan. Himitsu’s abilities as a Passion Assassin would have made infiltration a piece of cake.

  Half an hour had passed by the time Frederick finally said, “Nobody’s coming out.”

  Lilu narrowed her eyes. This could not be. Ever since she and Frederick first witnessed a figure climbing out of the stone block months ago, they scouted the intersection every night. And through their detective work, they had recognized a pattern. Every four nights, someone would exit the stone between two to three o’clock in the morning. This was the fourth night following the previous occurrence, but it was now approaching five o’clock. The city was beginning to wake. Horse-drawn carriages took to the streets while pedestrians spilled out of buildings and onto sidewalks.

  “Dammit,” Lilu said, spinning around and sitting on the cold stone of the roof. She stared at the volters resting a few paces away. They were going to be part of a diversion, so Lilu could get into the hideout, but now it was too late. They’d have to wait another four days.

  Gracie shrugged. “I’m kind of relieved. I wasn’t too fond of being bait.” She poked at Limone’s chubby rolls, making the young man giggle in a high pitch. Of course, that made Gracie laugh equally as high.

  Lilu gazed at Frederick. Her expression must have been pitiful because he chuckled and pat her thigh. “Don’t worry, Lilu.”

  “Ew,” Gracie said. “Can you two not be awkward for once in your lives?”

  Limone laughed, but a stern glare from Lilu silenced him in a second. The sound of a door opening nearby made Lilu’s body tense. It sounded like the door to the stairwell, but since it faced the opposite way, she couldn’t tell if her mind was simply playing tricks on her.

  “Did you hear that?” Limone asked, his flushed cheeks draining to a pasty white.

  They each stared in the direction of the structure that jutted from the roof. A man rounded the corner, wearing a white-striped blue vest against a white button-up. A gold chain hung from his chest pocket, as well as from his wrist. He wore blue slacks and white boots that were pointed at the toes. It was the attire of a wealthy man, one of the richest in the world: Wendel LeAnce.

  Lilu and her friends sat speechless. How did Wendel know? Clearly, that’d be the only reason why a man of his status would be on the roof of an apartment building at this hour.

  Despite what should have been a strange scene, Wendel smiled. “Conducting a bit of mischief?” he asked.

  Realizing nobody else would talk, Lilu said, “Enjoying the view, Commissioner. This is our hangout spot.”

  Wendel glanced down at his wristwatch—a dazzling gold just like the rest of his jewelry. “You’re telling me a group of twenty-something year-olds wakes up before the crack of dawn, an extra hour early before they’d have to wake up to go to class at IWA ... to enjoy a view?”

  Lilu’s mind blanked, her mouth hanging open slightly. Of course, Frederick, Gracie, and Limone were no help.

  “You know what?” Wendel said, approaching the stone ledge and taking a seat. “I actually believe you to a degree. A view captivates you, but not something as ordinary as the rising sun or the city’s skyline.” He gazed down at the intersection. “But that.”

  As Lilu’s posture sunk, Wendel said, “Yes, I know what you and Frederick have been up to for a while now, and I’ve been waiting for you to act.”

  “Excuse me, Commissioner?” Lilu asked.

  “I will put you out of your misery, Lilu. You and your team have proven more than competent in the lab for over a year now.” Wendel got up and walked toward the stairwell. “Come with me ... all of you. I’d say it’s time.”

  * * *

  The guards split to make way for the commissioner, Lilu, Frederick, Gracie, and Limone. “Now, this isn’t the intended entrance—not since Mendac was around at least. I’m the only who uses it, but only when I’m forced to.” Wendel paused and then gazed at the guards. “Someone get us the ladder.”

  A guard ran off in the direction of a nearby alley, only to return moments later with a wooden ladder. “Sorry, sir,” the woman said, placing it against the stone’s side.

  Wendel climbed the ladder, then waited for the rest of them to follow. As Lilu pulled herself up, she gazed around. A few early-rising pedestrians gave them perplexed stares.

  “Should we be doing this in public eye?” Lilu asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Wendel said, reaching for a small indention in the stone. “There are plenty of precautions to keep people from entering.” He pulled up, revealing a passageway and releasing a putrid scent. The passage likely led to the sewers.

  Now that Lilu was this close, standing directly atop the structure, she noticed something that she hadn’t while at a distance. “Is this Permanence?”

  As Wendel waved them down the hole, he smiled. “Yes, it is.”

  “Duh,” Lilu muttered. “That’d explain why a perfect cube remained intact.”

  They climbed down the rungs, each of them dropping onto wet stone. Wendel landed last. As he straightened up and dusted his vest with both hands, he said, “I’m a little surprised that slipped past you for so long.”

  Wendel weaved a few Intelights, and they began walking down a tunnel. “I’ve never seen Permanence used in such a way,” Lilu said.

  “You mean as a defensive wall, acting as a stronghold?” Wendel asked.

  “Yea. Was it built in the street?”<
br />
  “No, we don’t have time to wait for the sun to harden provod. We used a kilning pit in a secret area of Brilliance, then transported the structure to the intersection.”

  “How’d you manage to do that?” Gracie asked. She was the only other person comfortable with speaking to the commissioner. Frederick and Limone had a habit of shriveling up when in his company.

  “We had to shut down the city for the day,” Wendel said, pushing his Intelight farther ahead. “And we used a lot of horses.”

  But that wasn’t what struck Lilu as peculiar; something else had thrown up a red flag. “Secret area?” Lilu asked.

  “I suppose it’s not a secret to you guys anymore, but yes.”

  “I haven’t heard of this ‘secret area,’” Lilu said. “Does my dad know?”

  “Of course. Him, along with the League of Weavineers and those who live there.” Wendel paused, then said, “The men and women stationed there don’t leave—not unless something catastrophic were to occur.”

  Wendel’s Intelight veered right down an adjacent passage, one absent of sewage and much narrower than the main tunnel. As he followed it, Lilu paused and stared into the darkness of the bigger tunnel.

  “Let’s go, Lilu,” Wendel called back. “I don’t want you getting lost down here.”

  Lilu hovered there for a moment before turning down the new passageway, jogging to make up lost ground.

  “At least the stench is dissipating,” Gracie said, her fingers still pinching her nose. “Glad I didn’t wear any of my good clothes.”

  Lilu shot her a sideways glance. “You mean my good clothes.”

  “Not anymore.”

  For what felt like an hour, they followed winding passages and even squeezed through narrow gaps, some of which Limone struggled to fit through.

  “This is quite a journey,” Lilu said, exhaustion from staying up the night before setting in.

  “Brilliance is a big city,” Wendel replied. “And traveling across it becomes even more difficult when confined to a pre-constructed maze.” Light became visible ahead. “But we’re just about there.”

  “Where’s Gracie?” Frederick asked.

  Lilu turned. Gracie had been third in line behind Lilu. Now Limone and Frederick had taken her place.

  “That’s not good,” Wendel noted.

  “How did you lose her?!” Lilu shrieked.

  Frederick’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know that was my job. She’s not a puppy.”

  Wendel pushed his Intelight behind the group. Once it reached an intersection of tunnels, Gracie stepped out from a corner, pulling at the string of her trousers and tightening the waistband. “Sorry, guys,” she said.

  “Are you kidding me?” Lilu asked incredulously.

  “Can a woman not open the floodgates?” As Gracie approached, she turned up her nose, eyeing their surroundings. “Besides, it is a sewer. It would have ended up here anyway.”

  Wendel looked amused. “You are nothing like your uncle.”

  “It’s not like he’s my dad,” Gracie said, marching past. “What’s the hold up? We’re almost there ... whatever ‘there’ is.”

  They followed the final stretch for another few minutes before stepping onto a marble balcony. Spacious and magnificent, it sat hundreds of meters in the air, jutting out of the cavern’s wall. Lilu ran to the ivory rails and gazed below.

  Below them was a town blanketed in silver and black. The buildings—while nowhere near as tall as those above ground—were constructed of steel and the roads were paved in tar. Soldiers marched through the streets of certain areas, while others seemed to stroll leisurely through more distant sectors. In the distance, what seemed to be miles of open pavement stretched beyond the town’s farthest reaches before a gigantic steel gate blocked what might have been the cavern’s exit. Somehow, the early morning sun streamed into the cavern through a sizeable hole in the rugged ceiling above.

  More balconies jutted from the cavern’s walls. While they were scattered at different elevations and distances, they were all lower and smaller than the one they presently occupied. Most of them were empty save a few, which held a couple faces that Lilu recognized and others she’d never seen before. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, relaxing in luxurious chairs, a glass of fine wine on nearby tables.

  The commissioner’s hands clasped onto the ivory rail as he smiled at the town below him. “Welcome to the Bastion of Intel.”

  30

  Torture

  “Are those travolters?” Limone asked, being the first to manage words after experiencing such a marvel.

  “You mean on Steel Field?” Wendel said.

  Lilu followed Limone’s pointed finger and spotted about a dozen travolters parked against the cavern’s wall. They looked tiny from this distance—they were on the opposite side of the city—but their shape was too unique for her to mistake them. “What are those doing here?”

  Wendel placed his hand on Lilu’s shoulder. She had never recoiled so quickly in her life. He nodded gently and said, “This past year, you’ve been watched by some of the top weavineers in the Bastion of Intel as you’ve experimented on defense weaponry in your lab. They’ve learned from you and applied your techniques to begin work on prototypes.”

  “You did this without my permission ...” Lilu muttered, malice coating every syllable. She recalled one of the directors of the board mentioning another team of scientists she’d potentially lead in the future, but Lilu hadn’t fathomed that said team had already been constructed, testing her prototypes behind her back.

  “They’ve gotten the basics down,” Wendel continued, ignoring her outrage. “But now the time has come for someone to lead them properly. They need guidance in the architectural design in order to make your weapons function at their fullest potential.”

  “Why now?” Lilu asked. “Why all of this secrecy for so long?”

  “Because this isn’t something you simply spring on someone,” Wendel explained. “You may have had the skill, but you didn’t have the experience—you still don’t, if I’m being honest. But you’ve proven something at least. You’ve created functioning weaponry that can defend our kingdom on a large scale. And you’ve proven that you can act as an instructor.” He glanced at the rest of the team. “Wouldn’t you guys think so?”

  Limone and Frederick nodded. Gracie shook her head as she observed the town below. “This is too much,” she said. “I think I’m jumping ship.”

  “You didn’t come all this way to back out,” Lilu said.

  Wendel sighed. “I’m not calling you fighters. You’re not expected to enter battle if it were to ever come to that. Your team will be the last line of inspection before weaponry is approved. If a device reaches you, and you find it faulty in any way, you send it back and make the weavineers responsible start over. Then, over time, you’ll be asked to do more.”

  “With the halt in trade with the Power Kingdom, I thought we were being frugal in regards to provod usage,” Lilu said. “It sounds reckless to keep telling weavineers to start from scratch.”

  “Fair point,” Wendel said. He leaned over the rail and looked straight down. “However, if you look below us, there is an entrance deeper in the cavern’s walls. And that, my students, leads to a provod stockpile that we’ve nurtured for two decades. We should be okay.”

  A loud clang echoed through the cavern. “What was that?” Gracie asked.

  “One of the weavineer’s failed travolters,” Wendel said lazily. “See the smoke?”

  Frederick chuckled. “Yea, Lilu will whip them into shape.”

  Lilu blushed, digging her face into the inside of her elbow as she leaned against the banister. Gracie grabbed Lilu’s shoulders and rustled her playfully. “You’re adorable.”

  While the rest of them observed the sights, Lilu thought about the one thing she had come down here for in the first place: information on the Theory of Connectivity. Wendel seemed like a friendly guy, but she had learned in her
life to never judge a book by its cover. Your closest friends could be your worst enemies. She couldn’t ask him.

  But Wendel had said that he knew they were scoping out Mendac’s statue for some time. Perhaps he’d already known what she was trying to find. Either way, now that she was down here, she knew she was that much closer to answers.

  * * *

  Still Queen Apoleia guided Nyemas Jugtah down a spiraling stairwell. Ropinia descended behind them to ensure the man didn’t turn and run the other way. Not that he’d ever attempt such a foolish move; he knew how easily Apoleia would catch him and rip his throat out.

  The staircase stretched for eternities. The ice that coated the stairs began to melt as the temperature grew hot. That said a lot, considering he had spent a week in Kindoliya’s bitter cold. Warmth should have been a welcome change.

  “Where are you taking me?” Jugtah asked.

  “Somewhere for you to prove yourself,” Apoleia said. “As I said the first day you arrived, I must see your ability to weave miracles with my own eyes.”

  Screams carried from below. Pulling at the collar of his tunic, he beat it against his collarbone in effort to fan himself. He wasn’t fond of this area of the palace; he felt trapped. He hadn’t seen a window in some time, which reminded him of something he couldn’t quite put a finger on ... a long tunnel, a shoddy lab, and a couple strange, out-of-place faces. Despite the heat, he shivered at the thought. It felt like a memory from another lifetime.

  They finally reached a small landing, barely big enough for two people to stand. A stone wall stood to their left and right, the staircase behind them, and an iron door directly ahead.

  “Hand me the rag, Ropinia,” Apoleia said, reaching back over Jugtah’s shoulder.

  Ropinia passed a thick washcloth to her sister. Apoleia wrapped it around her hand before grabbing the metal handle, twisting it, and opening the door.

  A deluge of heat escaped its confines as the door opened, singeing Jugtah’s eyelashes despite his thick-rimmed golden glasses. He yanked them off and began to rub his watering eyes. As Apoleia waltzed in without hesitation, Jugtah tried to catch his breath—the heat that enwrapped him was suffocating. Ropinia gently placed her hand against his back and guided him inside. Once he regained his composure and equipped his glasses, he shuddered at the scene before him.