by Janean Worth
The Custodian smiled down at his guard, knowing that the creature could see him much better than he could see it in the darkness. “I have need of nourishment and refreshment. Please bring me something to eat and drink.”
The creature nodded, then backed away, its manner subservient and even a little respectful, a detail that never ceased to amaze the Custodian. Written knowledge and Old Tech had tamed these vicious creatures and bent them to his will. And time, too. He could not forget the many, many years of his long life that it had taken him to reshape their behavior.
Several other guards waited just outside his field of vision, but he knew they were there. He could hear them breathe.
“Have you found the place that the young thieves dwell?” he asked, his soft voice reverberating weirdly inside the tiled room and then echoing off down the dark tunnels.
“Yessss,” one of them hissed.
The Custodian smiled again, careful not to show his teeth—a sign of aggression in animals, which he’d learned the hard way—allowing the shape of his lips and eyes to show his approval.
These creatures, though he had laboriously taught them to speak with short sentences and rudimentary words, still communicated best through body language and facial expression.
“And have you brought back the things that they took from our collection?” the Custodian asked.
“Nooooo. They kill us. Hurt. Hurt. Kill us.”
The Custodian frowned fiercely at them and remained silent, showing his displeasure this time.
“We willllll try againnnnnn.”
He let the frown fade. “Very good. Very good. I had not had a chance to look at those things that they stole from our collection yet. Some of the devices might function still. I would like their return so that I can see for myself. This would please me.”
Though he knew that their simple, vicious minds could not process all of the words that he said, he sometimes spoke to them at length anyway, just to hear the sound of his own voice. It had been years indeed since he had talked to another human. Years since his last companion had been killed and eaten by the horde.
As he thought of his old companion, suddenly, on a whim, he decided that he would quite like to have another companion for a time. Yes, a companion sounded nice. Another human.
“Yesssss,” two of the creatures hissed in unison. “Please you.”
“Yes, it would please me. And it would please me for you to kill the thieves. They know of my collection now. They may return to take more.”
“Thieves. Kill. Yesssssss. Eat.”
The Custodian smiled again, his lips carefully covering his teeth this time. “Yes. Kill. Eat. All of the thieves. And all of the others. Except for one. Bring one of them to me. This would please me, too.”
The Custodian nodded in the darkness. A human companion would be quite a nice change. And, when he tired of the companion’s conversation, they would also serve as dinner for him and his horde.
Chapter Ten
No fire burned inside the cold, dark throne room in the House. As always, the massive fireplaces remained empty. The room was winter cold and darkly shadowed.
The Sovereign was dimly aware of the hard throne beneath him, and that his hands were curled tightly around the arm rests, his brittle fingernails digging into the underside of the thick wood. He vaguely felt the constant throb of aches and pains from where the Old Tech joined his flesh in places, and the steady, nagging malaise of advanced infection, but he ignored those, focusing instead on the Far‑Seeing device implanted into his eye socket.
He focused every bit of his willpower, which was prodigious, into the device and managed to bring up a translucent wavering image of a rough map of the area. He knew from experience that no one else could see the image that hung in front of his face like a massive, transparent tapestry.
The image depicted the world as he knew it, as if seen from high above. He could see the outline of the meadow surrounding GateWide and beyond that the Old Forest. Even further, he could find the Mire’s jagged borders. And, if he focused very hard, he could push the map out into a greater area and view the beginning boundary edge of the old city of Denthrop, but he was unable to see the outer edge of the sprawling abandoned city. On the image of the map, the portion of the city that he could see was nearly as large as the Mire, so he knew that the city must be massive indeed.
Only once had he ever been able to push the Far‑Seeing device to see more of the map than what was currently showing, and that was when the tracking device in the settlement had been activated, causing the map to expand its boundaries in order to show the location of the device, which had shown up on the map as a tiny, blinking blue dot. He’d immediately sent his Enforcers to the place, and had used the Far‑Seeing device for hour upon hour upon hour, for days, as their little group of blue dots had crossed the map to the settlement.
During that time, he’d managed to keep the boundaries of the map stretched wide and far, and he had discovered something incredible. There were many other settlements and villages and towns like GateWide strung across the map. Far, far away from GateWide, he had seen them: tiny pockets of civilization flung far and wide.
He had always suspected that GateWide did not house the last living people left after the Fall. But he had not shared this thought with the citizens of GateWide. He had wanted them to be dependent upon him. He had wanted them to feel alone and be afraid to leave the safety of GateWide for the horrors of the wilderness. He had wanted them to think that they were the last. But, he had not known for certain that there were others, not until he’d seen the distant civilizations with the Far‑Seeing device.
Now, having replenished his slaves with people from the settlement, he desired to see more of the world on the map again so that he could send his Enforcers out to find more slaves and more Old Tech. He would need many more of both for his future home. But this time, the Far‑Seeing device was not cooperating. The map would not expand beyond its current size to show him these places—no matter how hard he concentrated.
His head had begun to ache from his exertions and he could feel tears of blood streaming from the eye socket housing the Far‑Seeing device, but still he tried.
Finally, with a scream of frustration, he broke off the mental connection with the Far‑Seeing device and instead focused back upon the occupants of the throne room with his human eye.
What he saw pleased him.
There beside his throne knelt a healthy young woman who had been brought back from the settlement. The young woman was an improvement over the weak and sniveling Strays who used to serve him. She was stronger and could more easily bear his weight, acting as a crutch, when he traversed the throne room. She did not snivel; instead, she stared directly at him with calm, cold, impotent hatred. He found that he quite liked the change.
Her helpless rage made him realize anew his own power over the people who surrounded him. Her angry looks of powerless loathing gave strength to his sickly, weakened limbs again.
And beside the woman, lying upon the cold, black‑marble floor, was something that made him feel even better. It was his trump card. A game‑ender in the contest of hide‑and‑seek that the escaped Strays had been playing with him.
The Enforcers had found it on their foray to the settlement, in the moldering ruins of a small, unknown city, and had brought it back for his perusal. And he did not need an Advisor’s advice to know what it did. He knew exactly what this Old Tech device was for.
It was what the people in the Time Before had called a tactical nuclear bomb, and it could be detonated remotely. It was an Old Tech device of incredible destructive power.
While it wasn’t the huge thermo‑nuclear bombs that had been used to precipitate the Fall, it would still be destructive enough to level an entire city. And he would use it on GateWide if the Strays did not return to him and hand over the Old Tech that Gregory had stolen from him so many years ago.
As soon as the message could be relayed of the i
mminent destruction of GateWide and all of its citizens, he knew that Kara and Mathew would return. He knew it because they had returned to rescue the Strays and tracken from slavery. Such do‑good Believers would not fail to return to save all of the others from death.
If they did not return after hearing his message, he would fulfill his promise and start anew elsewhere. And if they did return, he would still destroy GateWide. Having the Strays trapped inside would be all the sweeter.
Either way, GateWide would no longer be his home, nor anyone’s.
He smiled to himself as he looked down at the Old Tech lying on the marble floor. He caressed the detonator inside his pocket with one Old Tech hand. His ancestors had known the right of it. They had been right to erase most of humanity from the world. They had been right to kill the weak and burn the Believers out of existence. For, without a hope in a higher power, people could be easily ruled. He was their god now; the Creator was not. They would bow to him, and he would end their miserable lives when he saw fit.
He felt a heady enjoyment grow within his chest. There was an adventure ahead, and there was much to do to prepare for it.
But before he destroyed GateWide, he would first savor the defeat of the Strays. If his intended message did not reach them, he had one last plan that may work to lure them back to the House.
He turned to Trion, the laziest of his remaining Enforcers, and the young man shivered beneath his gaze.
“Gather the rest of my Enforcers, Trion, and tell them that they need to go to the Old Forest and set up a camp just beyond the farthest border to Denthrop. There, they are to wait for further instructions.”
“Yes, Sovereign,” Trion whispered, bowing his head. He took several steps backward toward the door and then paused.
“Is there something else, Trion?”
“It is only that if the remaining Enforcers are to be sent out to the Old Forest, and the others are still gone seeking the Strays, who will guard the gate?”
The Enforcer’s voice quaked and cracked with stress as he forced the words out, and the Sovereign frowned at the sign of weakness. Perhaps Trion needed a lesson in strength.
But no, today he was feeling happy because of his impending triumph and subsequent adventure. No, he would not give Trion a lesson until later. Later, when GateWide was cleansed by fire and explosive force, he would leave Trion behind with the others.
He had no need of weakness in his new regime.
“Why, you will, Trion. You will guard GateWide while the rest are away. You will stay by the gate and guard it until they return.”
The Enforcer’s eyes bugged wide in surprise, and he saw a momentary hesitation as if Trion might actually speak of his shock at the order he’d been given, but then the coward thought better of it and backed quickly from the room.
The Sovereign smiled again and gestured for the girl to help him stand. He had much for her to do as he prepared for the cleansing of GateWide and his victory over that pestilent boy and girl Stray.
Chapter Eleven
Kara barely noticed the clouds scuttling to obscure the sun and the ominous shadows that were quickly blanketing their dreary surroundings; she was too busy trying to calm her roiling stomach, her nausea only made worse by the rolling motion of the filly as they rode away from the only known entrance to Narrow Road.
They’d finally finished laying their extensive false trail, and should have been on their way to find the Narrow Gate once again. But they were not. No, they were wending their way back through the city, on their way once more to GateWide.
At her side, Mathew remained silent, and she had a momentary thought to wonder if he was feeling as sick and stunned as she was.
After Heddert had relayed the Sovereign’s message—which indeed had been threats against the lives of a great many people if they did not return—Kara had felt staggered. It seemed as if she could not completely process the words that the former Enforcer had told her, because the Sovereign’s plans were just too mad to be believed.
The Sovereign’s plan could result in another Fall. How could he even contemplate using Old Tech like that again? Did he care so much about his revenge and his need to own Mathew’s Old Tech device for himself that he’d kill so many to achieve both?
After sharing the shocking message from the Sovereign, and a quite a lot of the man’s other plans, Heddert had gathered his weapons, asked for a bit of food from them, and then had been on his way as soon as he was able. It had seemed to Kara that Heddert was almost afraid to keep company with her and Mathew, because they were hunted by the Enforcers so keenly. Or, perhaps the man thought that if he kept moving, he could eventually outdistance the plans the Sovereign had for them all, thinking that he could avoid the worst of the blast if he was far enough away.
Either way, Kara mused that his departure had probably been for the best, because it did seem to be dangerous for anyone to be around them as proven by the recent attack at the sanctuary. At the thought, she realized that she had forgotten to warn Heddert about the intelligent Fidgets. Strangely, she actually hoped that he would be okay. As soon as he’d shared his information, revealing that he was a deserter like her father, Kara hadn’t mistrusted him quite so much. During their talk, she’d even begun to feel a certain odd kinship with him, because he was on the run from the Enforcers, too.
“We should find shelter soon,” Mathew said, his words breaking into her thoughts and startling her so much that she accidentally jerked the reins, causing the filly to shy to the left.
“Yes, we should,” Kara agreed, her apathy evident in her voice. “But does it really matter? I mean, perhaps it would be for the best if I just allowed the Enforcers to find me and take me back. Then it would all be over, right? And no one else would die because of me.”
There was a long moment of silence, and then Mathew finally spoke, his voice a low, intense murmur, “Of course it matters. It matters to me, Kara.”
She glanced at him and found his gaze already upon her face. And what she saw in his face surprised her. His face shone with affection. For her?
That thought momentarily shocked her out of the apathy she’d been feeling. Could Mathew, who had been selfish from the first moment that she’d met him, actually care about her? Could he feel some fondness for her? She, who hadn’t had anyone care for her in years? She, who was responsible for so many deaths, so much so that she felt a bit undeserving of anyone’s affection?
Her throat closed with emotion so potent that for a moment she could not speak, and when she found her voice, she could only murmur a few words in disbelief. “It does?”
“Of course it matters to me, Kara!” Mathew was looking a little miffed at her. “Why do you always think the worst of me? Of course I care about what happens to you . . .”
His voice tightened with emotion and he stuttered to a stop, looking embarrassed that he’d revealed his affection for her.
Kara was startled, and she felt her cheeks flush with color.
She didn’t know what to say. Even though they argued much of the time recently, she cared for him, too. But she’d never really expected him to return that affection.
After her momentary silence, a small smile found its way to her lips.
She turned back to look at him and said shyly, “I care about you, too, Mathew.”
He smiled back at her awkwardly, and suddenly she was feeling very awkward, too. Her face heated even more and she turned away quickly, her fingers fumbling on the reigns.
She looked around their surroundings for something of note, something that she’d be able to talk about and break the awkwardness of the moment. Caring about each other was a good thing, so why did admitting it openly to each other feel so strange?
She was almost grateful for the boom of thunder that split the air, and the fall of rain that came right after, because they put an end to further discussion. The filly jerked beneath her, sidling from side to side as the sound of thunder crescendoed in the sky above. The thunder
was immediately followed by several bolts of lightning that sizzled through the dark clouds overhead, striking nearby with another echoing boom.
Suddenly the rain became heavier, as if a spigot had been opened above them, and Kara’s heart began to pound with fear as she suddenly realized the precarious situation that they found themselves in. She silently berated herself for her earlier lack of attention. She should not have allowed herself to be so distracted while traveling the city. Anything could have happened while she’d been too busy agonizing over Heddert’s news to be as alert and cautious as their surroundings required.
They were in one of the most badly damaged areas of the abandoned city, very far from the sanctuary, and the buildings all around them were not the well‑built skyscrapers that could be found still standing and relatively usable in other parts of the city. No, there the buildings were smaller, one‑ and two‑story places made of thin wood and cheap materials, which had long ago been reduced to piles of rubble. There was no shelter to be found in any of the surrounding buildings nearby.
Lightning struck again, followed by deafening thunder, and beneath her the filly screamed in fright and tossed her head, eager to be free from the dangerous storm.
Kara blinked back the rain peppering her face and searched desperately for any safe harbor from the storm.
“There! Look!” she yelled, pointing to a wide ramp that led underground, bordered by a short concrete half wall. Remarkably, the ramp beyond the half wall was completely clear of rubble, unlike its surroundings, which were cluttered with debris, decaying plant matter, and a fair amount of green, weedy growth.
As if her words were a signal, the clouds burst and torrential rain avalanched from the sky, quickly turning the road that they’d been travelling into a river. The rain sluiced down the road as if the road were a chute. In seconds, the deluge was above the filly’s hooves. The horse pranced, slopping water everywhere, sending small geysers up into the air in her terror.
