by J. M. Rojas
CHAPTER 29: TRAITOR'S GAMBIT
Mathias locked his eyes with Oreus. He knew the name the High Librarian was about to say before he said it.
“Vesphaeon—”
“Where is he?”
“Rykar told me he was sulking in his books, so I went to him. He and Eleena were heading for the city. He said something about wanting to find Jack to get some fresh air in the streets of Alexandria—”
The Atlantean general turned and made for the chamber door. “Call the guards. Have them arrest Vesphaeon on treason! I will find Jack!”
Oreus did not argue. Realisation of his son's betrayal was becoming crystal clear. His heart was full of sorrow and despair. The High Librarian waited until Mathias was gone before making an effort to stand. “No, no, no,” he whispered, shaking his head. “My dear boy, what have you done?”
“Where is he?” Rykar thundered at a group of guards milling around Mathias. Two of them were fitting the general in armour much like the one that Jack wore during his spar with Ramose. Gaian armour. They stood by the steps of the Chamber of Lore beside a fleet of skyjammers. “I swear, I will kill him!”
His eyes looked in envy at the Gaianar armour, which idenfitied Mathias as an Order Knight. Rykar knew the power of the Gaianar, knew that Mathias had led armies that had defeated legions of Osirians and Ramaeans with that armour donned. It could channel the very power of the earth; the Aether, as it was called. He could level great walls with it—but only for a little while, for its power would eventually take its toll on the wearer, and the armour itself.
“Don't use words that may foresee the future,” Mathias replied with stern look at Rykar. “Take some men and scour the streets. I will take this force to the Sun Garden to look for Jack and Layla, and then on to the Gate!”
“Why the Gate?” Rykar asked, his anger almost choking him.
“Because the fool is more than likely working with the rebels. He will seek to let them in now that they know Jack is here. Let them claim the prize they so desire. A bargain has been made.”
Before Rykar could respond, Mathias leaped upon a skyjammer and led a force of twenty men toward the Great Road, which would take them to the Sun Garden.
The older son of Oreus frowned at the accusation Mathias had made. This cannot be. Vesphaeon is a loyal Atlantean. He is blind to father's rule and a lackey to that arrogant general. I doubt he has any machinations with the enemy. But... he has always been a mystery. Never sharing his most inner thoughts. I am sure it is a misunderstanding. I will find him and bring him back to father. Bring back the whimpering fool and show Mathias that my brother is not a traitor.
Rykar's inner dialogue was interrupted by the stomping of leather boots on marble. He cast a glance over his shoulder and saw more Atlantean soldiers armed with glaives, hurrying to his side.
“To the city proper!” He ordered, waving them on. “We must find my brother!”
“Where are we going, brother?” Eleena asked in her small, delicate voice. “This seems a little odd to want to walk the streets of Alexandria when we've only just met Jack and Ramose.”
“You and that boy will be the death of us!” Vesphaeon said darkly.
“Are you okay?”
Her brother pushed her comforting hand away. “I don't have time to answer all your questions. We have to get out of here. Something bad is about to happen.”
“What? When? How do you know this?” he could feel her eyes on the back of his head. Vesphaeon turned slowly.
For a moment, Eleena saw sorrow on her brother's face, then it was gone, replaced with a scowl. “Our idiot brother Rykar has been prying into my affairs far too much. Asking similar questions.” The last sentence was accompanied by two searing eyes of contempt on his sister. When she gasped and he realised he was looking at her but thinking of his brother's mockery, his face softened. “I am beginning to suspect his loyalty to our family and this great city. The reason we are leaving, dear sister, is so that I can get some fresh air.”
“And what about Jack?” she ventured to ask timidly.
“Yes, Jack as well. We must find the boy and take him with us. I want to take him on a night stroll in Alexandria and show him what has become of great Osiria.”
Eleena swallowed her apprehension and stumbled obediently after her brother. She didn't like the way he was acting, but felt she had no other choice.
The pair made their way down a dimly lit back road off the main thoroughfare, where the squat buildings seemed much closer together. A row of women statues stood silently on either side of the road, their bodies stretched up on tiptoes as if trying to reach the ceiling of the cavern. Clasped in their finger-locked hands were glass orbs filled with gloam dust.
Vesphaeon seemed oblivious to the lantern-maidens, but his sister let her attention linger on the finally crafted Osirians statues. “Shouldn't we have simply taken The Rise to get to Alexandria?” Eleena muttered at her brother's back, the question trailing into a whisper.
“This way, not far now,” he said, encouragingly; though his voice sounded strained.
“How will we—?”
Shadowy figures suddenly surged out from behind the statues and began to surround them.
“Vesphaeon?” A husky voice demanded.
“Yes?” Vesphaeon answered, taking a challenging step towards the closest silhouette, which lingered on the edge of the gloam light. “Who wants to know?”
“Your new friends,” the voice laughed, mockingly. “We have come to show you the way out.”
“Who are they?” Eleena whispered, worriedly from behind Vesphaeon's shoulder.
“Wait here,” he replied firmly, his gaze locking with hers momentarily. There was a strictness; a warning she dared not question. “I will make sure our guides are who they say they are.”
Eleena simply nodded. Her confusion and fear was barely containable. “I trust you,” she said, her wide, blue eyes sparkling like gems. The gloam dust on her skin made her appear like a shimmering apparition in the subterranean darkness.
Her stern-faced brother nodded and walked towards the shadows. They spoke in hushed voices for a moment, then Vesphaeon returned and ushered her with a frantic wave. “We must depart here, before... the fight.”
“Fight?”
“No time for questions now—”
“No, Vesp. I need to know what is going on.”
“If we linger here, I—we will be exposed...”
Before the debate could continue, there was a flash of bright light behind them, followed by the sound of heavy boots and clinking armour. Vesphaeon looked back the way they had come and saw another group of silhouettes moving quickly towards them. Another flash of light revealed the search party were Library guards. Rykar was at their lead.
“We have to go now!” Vesphaeon shouted, grabbing Eleena and running towards one of the city pillars that stood behind the lantern-maidens.
“Vesp! Where are we going?” Eleena cried over the sounds of the Library guards charging at the other group of shadows her brother had spoken to. Vesphaeon didn't answer, but pulled her up against the pillar. He then began to scour the pillar with his clawing fingers, desperately searching for something.
“There is a secret door here somewhere!”
“I don't see anything—”
Thruuum!
A section in the obsidian pillar rolled back, revealing a secret chamber.
Ramose had been following Rykar and his men since they had departed from the Chamber of Lore. The fear that Oreus' older son was a traitor kept him watching from the shadows. Now he crouched low on a house rooftop, his attention on the fight below. Even in the low light of the lantern-maidens, the djinn could see that it was between Library guards and djinn warriors from his own tribe. Those loyal to Bast.
“They have finally caught up,” he said darkly. He gripped the Staff of Dancing Winds tightly.
The teenager then saw Eleena being dragged by Vesphaeon to one of the giant cavern pillars.
E
leena! They must be fleeing the fight! He stood up and walked to the edge of the roof...
“Pockets of rebels are appearing in all corners of The Library,” the pale-faced guard hurriedly reported to Mathias, whose patrol had halted in the middle of the Great Road. Their skyjammers ringed the messenger who appeared wounded and barely standing. “We have seen Dark Tide Atlanteans and djinn warriors working together to attack the city watch! They have even begun breaking into the residential areas and attacking our people while they sleep.”
“Chaos,” Mathias said, his face a foreboding visage. The sharp lines of his features cast harsh shadows across his face. “They are trying to distract us so they can find Jack.”
The messenger—who carried one of his arms in a sling—nodded. “They have torn most of the eastern quarters apart as if looking for something or someone.”
Mathias turned to one of his men and pointed at the messenger. “Take him to Oreus! We must search the Sun Garden!”
The patrol resumed their advance down the road, while one of the Library guards collected the wounded messenger and turned back to the Chamber of Lore.
Mathias and his men had not travelled far, when Jack and Layla ripped out of the darkness ahead on their skyjammer.
“Jack!” Mathias exclaimed, swerving his skyjammer to avoid impact. The Library guards did likewise, as Jack flew passed them and came to an abrupt halt.
“Mathias! I am so sorry!” Jack cried, leaping from the skyjammer and running towards the tall general. “We came as fast as we could. Where's Cloak? And William?”
“Will is safe, he is on a task I have set him; however, I have not seen the Nysaean,” Mathias said, turning back to face the teenager. “He is more than likely searching for answers in our enemy's camp.”
Jack's confused look was reflected by Layla. “What do you mean?” she said, stepping up beside the half-Atlantean. “He was with us only a moment ago.”
“Well, we do not have time for quandaries,” Mathias said, “there has been a breach of the Library's defences and I must attend to the Gate. The enemies of Atlantis have finally rallied for our noose.”
“The rebels,” Layla hissed her disdain. “We will come with you!”
“No,” Mathias ordered. “Both of you go back to Oreus! Layla you must protect the Son of Thomas. He is what the rebels want. Kaelan will never give up until he has the Crown of Dreams.”
Layla and Jack—he was feeling more confident and ready to face conflict now—were about to voice their displeasure with the decision when there came a battle-cry from the darkness ahead.
“Its too late!” Mathias shouted, pulling his glaive from left forearm, which morphed into a long, elegant blade. “Protect Jack!”
The Library guards readied their own glaives and formed a wall across the road. Then out of the shadows burst a force of Dark Tide rebels armed with glaives, and cloaked djinn warriors wielding scimitars and bows. Under a hail of arrows, the enemy descended on Mathias' men.
“Layla! Stay with him!” Mathias thundered, charging into the fray with his glaive changing yet again: this time into a giant battle-hammer. The giant swung the weapon about in wide circles, causing the front line of rebels to scatter from his approach.
Jack noticed the oceanic murals that spiderwebbed the wedge-tipped hammer whirling above Mathias' head and was momentarily distracted from the attack. “Such detail—”
Layla pulled Jack out of his trance, leading him to the skyjammer. “Come on! Mathias must be annoyed. He rarely uses the battle-hammer shape with his glaive. That means he is channeling Gaianar bloodlust.”
“Gaianar have a bloodlust mode? I thought they were noble protectors who use violence as a last resort.”
His companion gave him a quizzical look. “You obviously have no idea!”
Jack and Layla leaped onto the skyjammer and were about to urge it forward with a thought when there was clink sound on the ground to their right, followed by an explosion that threw them off the hovering platform. Layla clung tightly to Jack as they fell to the ground in a wisp of smoke and fire.
A scream of fear choked in Jack's throat and died. Quickly climbing to his feet, his hands patted down his body, finding no injuries. He kneeled down and helped an equally surprised Layla to her feet. “How—?”
“The armour!” the girl cried, pulling away from him and pointing at his chest.
Jack looked down, and saw the comfortably light armour he forgot to remove, under the tatters of his shirt. It burned red from the bomb's fire, then gradually weakened to an orange glow, before dissipating into a soft white aura. “It absorbed the blast. Saved us both!”
Layla nodded, then her head snapped up at something behind Jack. “Look out!” she cried, her glaive uncurling from around her waist and forming a blade in her hand.
Jack ducked instinctively, as a spear swiped over his head. Layla leap-frogged over Jack, slashing her glaive in an upwards arc, which tore through the rebel's throat. His lifeless corpse had just dropped to the ground when another two rushed forward to take his place.
“Now would be a good time to put your training to work!” she shouted while fending off the two attackers at once. “Not like I need any help or anything.”
Jack pulled his own glaive from off of his left forearm. It sprung to life instantly, taking the form of a shining blade. The teenager swallowed the last of his fear down and leaped to Layla's side, deflecting a blow just in time, which was about to slash into the girl's left shoulder. Grinning at her amazed expression, Jack used the battle-memory ingrained in his muscles from the armour to guide him into the fight.
Each blow from the rebels seemed like easily predicted moves to the half-Atlantean. Like they were freshly trained in swordplay, or were just incompetent. Their attacks seemed slow and cumbersome. When he turned to see how Layla was faring against another rebel that popped up out of the darkness to attack them from the rear, he saw that she kept glancing at him and shaking her head in amazement.
“Not as weak as you may have thought, hey?” he laughed, using the glaive to change into a large metallic gauntlet, which he smashed into the rebels, knocking them out cold—their unconscious bodies slumping to the ground.
Layla laughed and shook her head. The rebel fighting her took that brief moment of distraction to lunge at Layla's seemingly exposed back; but was met by the elongated length of her glaive through his stomach. The weapon had shaped itself into a long lance, which just as quickly retracted back into a sword blade. “Lets get you out of here,” she said, waving him to follow her to one of the abandoned skyjammers.
Mathias charged into the horrified faces of eight djinn warriors whose arrows had all missed or deflected off of their target's armour. The mighty hammer-shaped glaive smashed into his foes before they could use their scimitars and muster against him. Broken and bloodied bodies fell on either side of the giant general, leaving a path of destruction in his wake.
Around him fanned out the Library guards who had dismounted their skyjammers. A psychic message had been sent out to the surrounding buildings in the district they were fighting in, and more Lemurians were coming out of the side streets to join the throng.
Five more rebels and six djinn fell to Mathias' bloodlust before the enemy stopped their attack on him. He was left with shallow wounds; but nothing serious enough to slow his rampage.
The giant suddenly stood still, isolated within the battle around him. Like the eye of a cyclone.
Ahead in the darkness of the great road came the humming sound of a large machine. A hulk-like shadow hovered along the road towards him.
“They have captured a kepri-ark,” he said grimly.
The humming increased, and another shadowy bulk appeared behind the first.
“Two.”
Then another.
“Three.” When the shadows did not multiply and the cacophony of humming did not increase, Mathias began to weigh up his battle strategy. He knew on the ground his men would be helpless agai
nst the armoured transports.
Then suddenly explosions began erupting amongst the patches of fighting. Mathias' sharp vision detected rebels atop the kepri-arks hurling small metallic balls at the Library guards and the Lemurian militia.
A grin—that Mathias seldom did when he was in the company of others—crept onto his face, heralding a plan. He crouched low, his finger tips of both hands touching the rock floor. Feeling, drawing upon a power deep below. Mathias suddenly felt a shudder in those fingertips, which travelled up his arms and into his chest. Like a second heartbeat, it pulsed in time with his own. The Gaianar's senses sharpened as the earth spirit sung through his veins and pure bliss consumed him. The planet's spirit rejoiced in him, suffusing and merging with his soul, expanding his consciousness. The strength of ages uncounted poured into his body, into his conduit vessel like a floodgate bursting. White fire rose from his shoulders and leaped from his eyes in ethereal tendrils, and his armour groaned as it syphoned and distributed the power evenly throughout his body, heightening his senses and invigorating him. Nothing could stop him in his state. Not a legion of men, nor a kapri-ark. Nor three.
The giant charged the closest kepri-ark. His eyes flashed a furious white as psychic-energy caused through his veins. With the speed of jungle cat, Mathias leaped onto the black-plated hulk and began smashing it with his glaive-hammer. It shuddered, swerved, then righted itself. Mathias smashed it again and a jolt of white fire shuddered through it. Climbing up to the top of the beetle-looking vehicle, the general found the rebel who had been throwing the bombs from the top hatch. The man, who had a patch over his left eye and a scruffy beard, yelped in fear and began to climb back down inside the kepri-ark. Mathias lashed out with his glaive-hammer and crushed the rebel's hand as it attempted to pull the hatch door closed. He then reached into the darkness of the transport and pulled the man back out again. Grabbing one of the many metallic spheres from squirming bomber's belt, Mathias flicked its switch, and dropped the screaming man into the hatch with the bomb after him. He then leaped off the kepri-ark and ran for the second one behind it.
An explosion shook the ground like a volcanic eruption and the kepri-ark backflipped into the air in a dazzling ball of flames, sending shards of its armour flying in all directions.
Mathias threw his arms out on either side of his body as he ran, channeling his Gaianar armour to amplify his psychic power. The burning wreckage of the first kapri-ark suddenly split into two, and both pieces moved in sync with the Atlantean's arms, which were brought swiftly together in front of him. When his hands clapped, the supercharged fireballs smashed into the second kapri-ark from both sides. The behemoth exploded.
Dropping into a low crouch, Mathias shielded his face from the dome of raging fire. In this vulnerable state he barely noticed the last kepri-ark tear out of the fire from his left. Xharan Ar'Taarg stood atop its massive bulk, wielding a short spear in one hand and an Atlantean hand-bomb in the other. A glaive shaped into a silver serpent glittered from his waist. When his new adversary solidified out of the haze of fire, the Atlantean general ran out of the fast moving vehicle's way. Xharan's bomb exploded where Mathias had stood only seconds before, its fire licking at his flesh, but being absorbed by his armour. The giant wheeled back around and charged the kepri-ark.
Xharan dived off of the transport and landed in Mathias' path. His leather boots thudding on the stone ground.
“I heard you fought Gha'haram,” the Dark Tide rebel said, grinning sadistically. His short spear dripped with some unknown poison that Mathias guessed would not have a pleasant effect on his body. “And almost killed him. “
“Almost,” Mathias panted ever so softly, his storm-grey eyes alive with psychic energy. He could feel his Gaianar armour begin to crack; the stress of the battle had damaged it severely. “Gha'haram is a tough one to kill. You... not so much.”
Xharan's face distorted in a knot of rage. “I will bleed you, Aramathaeus!”
Kaelan's captain charged the exhausted general with hatred in his eyes. His spear poised for a death-blow.
Mathias' armour stopped glowing—its power spent.
