Demons of Divinity

by Luke R. Mitchell

  “You know, you might have been responsible for saving Enochia.”

  She gave me a skeptical look.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure the Legion or anyone else would’ve listened to us about the raknoth without the information in your logs. I probably would’ve died up in the White Tower like I was supposed to.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “The Sanctum tried to execute you?”

  “That’s the short version of things, yeah. Mostly, I think the raknoth wanted a bloody show to throw Enochia into chaos for the taking.” I took in all the pain and damage around us, feeling a familiar dark weight descending. “I guess it kind of worked for them in the end, even if that night didn’t go as they’d planned.”

  “What happened?”

  “My mentor stopped them.”

  “Oh.” She seemed to grasp the gravity in those four words. “But… why the Sanctum?”

  “The short version? Because the High Cleric was a raknoth.”

  “Oh, my…” Her eyes were wide. “I think I’m going to need to catch up on the longer version.”

  “I’ll be happy to fill you in, assuming the raknoth or the new High Cleric don’t catch up with me first. And I’ll try to talk to High General Glenbark about getting you the resources you need. Not that I have all that much clout.”

  Especially after my actions today.

  Therese was frowning. “Glenbark?”

  “New High General,” I said. “Adrian Kublich was a raknoth too. He’s dead now.”

  Therese studied me as if only then seeing me for the first time, taking in my civilian armor and the burns along my right side. “How old are you?”

  I blew out a laugh, feeling some mixture of bitter and embarrassed. “Guess I’ll be Eighteen next Willowsday. Almost forgot.”

  She didn’t say anything. For a while, we stood in silence, watching the legionnaires move about, pulling more and more of the waking victims from their racks.

  “I should go help them,” I finally said. “Are you gonna be okay?”

  “Nothing a few gallons of juice and a couple days of drug-free sleep won’t fix,” she said, her tone surprisingly chipper despite her harrowed raggedness. She started toward a pair of awakening victims, then turned back when I didn’t immediately follow. “Let’s go. I might not be able to help them right now”—she glanced at the hybrid chambers—“but I’ll be damned if I’m just going to stand around and twiddle my thumbs while my colleagues wake up from the worst nightmare of their lives.”

  I was going to like Therese Brown, I decided.

  9

  Frayed

  In the history of our friendship, I—and anyone else, for that matter—never would have described Johnny Wingard as a man of few words. On the flight back, though, he seemed to have spontaneously discovered the discipline of the Sanctum’s fabled Silent Clerics. The grand total of his involvement in our conversation consisted of one grunt, one, “Whatever,” and several long, brooding silences before he finally stood and climbed to the transport’s upper cabin on the grounds of needing to run something by Dillard.

  “Lover’s quarrel?” someone asked quietly.

  I turned to find Mara watching me with those cold, precise eyes—not quite hostile, but certainly not friendly or trusting either.

  Beside her, Edwards frowned. “Give the kid a break, Evie.”

  She looked at him with a kind of calm fury that made certain parts of me shrivel. “I told you not to call me that, you oversized ape.”

  Edwards grinned and winked at me. “Yeah, but how else am I supposed to bring out those cold hard bitch eyes? You know how they get me all—Hnghhh!”

  Whatever Edwards was getting at ended in a violent rush of air as Mara drove her elbow straight into his diaphragm.

  The big guy just chuckled and wheezed on. “See? That’s what I’m talking about, baby.”

  They went on like that for a little while, but I soon decided it was none of my business and turned back toward the front. I was too occupied with being irritated at Johnny anyway. I wanted to grab him, shake him, and ask him what the scud he’d wanted me to do. What would he have done if he’d been up there when the bomb had gone off? Would that have made him feel better? Would he have rather died on that rooftop than swallow his pride and admit that maybe some fights weren’t for him?

  It continued like that for the rest of the hour-long flight, a vicious cycle of frustration, deepening until I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wished I’d had the good sense to ride back to Haven in one of the survivor transports. I could’ve been talking with Therese instead of stuck in this ridiculous standoff with Johnny.

  At least we’d be in Haven soon. Not that that was a wholly relieving thought either. Aside from having stayed there last night, I hadn’t been to Haven in years, and never for more than day trip tours during our tyro years. Still, having spent almost all my life in Sanctuary, Haven should have seemed closer to home than most other places, but I couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling in my stomach as it came into view.

  Maybe the sight of the dark perimeter walls and the sprawling permacrete compound beyond reminded me too much of my parents, and the time I’d spent hunted by the Legion after losing them. Maybe it was simply that I longed for the home I’d been starting to find with Carlisle.

  If I still had a home now, it was with Elise—provided she’d still talk to me when I showed up with a side of charred Hal.

  But, I lamented as the transport dipped to an easy landing, here I was for now. And until the raknoth threat was under control, here I was likely to stay. At least until Sanctuary’s repairs were complete enough for the base to resume its role as Legion headquarters.

  Johnny appeared at the steps from the upper cabin and gave me a second’s consideration before wordlessly grabbing his gear and vacating the transport with the flow of legionnaires. I sat there until the transport emptied, in no rush to push my battered body to its feet and through the crowded compartment.

  When I finally made it down the ramp, I saw High General Glenbark herself had come to greet us, along with a small gathering of curious legionnaires and what looked like a couple companies’ worth of medics, sweeping in to grab our rescues and our wounded and whisk them away with military efficiency. I caught Therese’s eye across the landing pad and gave her what I hoped was a reassuring nod.

  I thought about scurrying off to hide in my quarters after that, but when Glenbark looked up from her discussion with Dillard, Carter, and Johnny and caught my eye, there was no walking away.

  Growing up on a Legion base, there’d been no shortage of officers who knew how to exude commanding presence. Freya Glenbark put them all to shame—though I couldn’t have said exactly what it was about her that made everyone in her vicinity stand a little straighter, listen closer, try harder.

  She was attractive in a way that reminded me of a finely tuned weapon—beautiful to behold with all its hard precise edges, until it was you the sights were fixed on. But it was more than just that. An air of discipline that radiated from every crisp line of her uniform and every strand of her golden hair. A vibrancy in her sky blue eyes that pierced through anything they fell on.

  Talking to her via holodisk had been one thing. She’d been half-sized, paled out, and I’d been in a different place, both physically and mentally. Marching across the permacrete now, though, I was embarrassed at the way my stomach fluttered and my head spun. Like I was just a chubby-cheeked tyro again, meeting the grand leader of the entire Legion for the first time in my subservient life.

  I wasn’t a tyro, I reminded myself, resisting the reflex to salute as I drew up to Glenbark’s circle with Johnny and the two ordos.

  I was a civilian. And they were supposed to be at my service as much as I was at theirs. More so, even. But that didn’t stop the stomach flutters as Glenbark gave me a once-over, taking in my crispy right side and the half-mask of salve strips on my burning head.

  “I hear you’re lucky to be alive,” she
said.

  I glanced at Johnny and Dillard, wondering exactly how they’d chosen to spin the rooftop incident. “I’m not sure I’d call any of us lucky right now. Alton Parker got away, and I’m pretty sure that means our hybrid problem isn’t even close to over.”

  “Ordo Dillard informed me of your concern. And you don’t think Mister Parker could be lying about the existence of these additional facilities?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He could’ve been lying, of course. Lying was what Alton Parker did.

  “But if they don’t have other installments,” I added, “I don’t see why he would’ve run when he probably could have stopped us.”

  Glenbark’s frown was barely perceptible—the slightest crinkling around her measuring eyes. “You don’t think you could have stopped him?”

  I looked at Dillard and Carter before answering, not overly eager to tread on any more toes. “Maybe.” I indicated my scorched right side. “But Alton Parker doesn’t make a habit of fighting fair.”

  Then again, neither had Carlisle and I when we’d last faced Parker on that rooftop, keeping him distracted until Phineas could ram him off the building with a skimmer. Maybe that was poetic justice for me.

  Glenbark studied me for another long moment, her pale eyes unreadable. “I’ll take your concern under advisement, Citizen Raish. If there are more facilities out there, we’ll find them. In the meanwhile, I’d like you to focus on solutions for protecting our people, as we agreed.”

  That earned me a curious look from Dillard and Carter, but if they had questions, they held them. Personally, I just wanted to roll my eyes. I’d just been blown off a building trying to wrangle down one of the Legion’s most potent threats, and now they were wondering if I could get around to fixing the rest of their problems?

  I looked to Johnny for a little sympathy, but he was avoiding my gaze, focused on Glenbark.

  “We’ll discuss the matter later,” Glenbark said, “once you’ve seen the medics and had food and rest. For now, consider yourself grounded from further operations.”

  “I—What?”

  I’d been ready for stern words and a severe warning. But grounded? I wasn’t even a damned soldier. What did she mean, grounded?

  “You took down a major hybrid facility today because of me. I didn’t sign up to—”

  “Follow orders?” she asked, one eyebrow slightly arched. “If not, then you had better get off my base before you get someone else hurt or killed. I appreciate what you’re doing here, Citizen Raish, especially considering the events of the past few cycles, but you know better than most how quickly this all falls down if discipline fails. No one gets a free pass, no matter what they can do.”

  I didn’t bother trying to hide my anger. It was preposterous. Insulting. And yet, for some damned reason, I felt my cheeks warming, embarrassment seeping in at her calm chastising. Was that just some conditioned response from my tyro years, or was she actually right? I didn’t know right then, and she seemed to read it on my tense face.

  “See the medics, Haldin,” she said, not unkindly. “Get some rest. We need to talk soon about what comes next.”

  I was far from happy about being told to shove off and sit in my corner after everything, but I could see arguing wasn’t going to get me anywhere right now. Besides, she was right about one thing, at least. I needed food and rest. And picking up more regenerative salve from the medica wasn’t a bad idea either, seeing as Melanie had been too busy—or, I suspected, too worried I wouldn’t otherwise come for a checkup—to give me more back at Vantage.

  So, I turned to leave, not bothering to salute Glenbark or the others. I wasn’t a soldier, no matter what they wanted to pretend, and I wasn’t feeling especially respectful of my would-be commanders right then, either.

  Glenbark watched me go with calm appraisal. Carter was looking at me like he was sure I must be hiding something. Dillard didn’t speak, but he did give me a fractional nod. Maybe at least one person saw that I’d been trying to do the right thing today.

  Johnny certainly didn’t seem to.

  My friend barely met my eyes before I set off. It irritated me as much as it worried me, the silent brooding treatment. It wasn’t Johnny’s style. I’d have to talk to him after I got myself sorted out.

  I set course for the medica first. Explaining what had happened to my face to Elise was already going to be bad enough. At least this way I could say I’d handled it responsibly after the fact.

  “Hey, kid!” a deep voice called after me at the edge of the landing pad. “Haldin.”

  I turned to find big burly Edwards tromping toward me. He winced a little as he took in my crispy side.

  Yep. Elise was going to be thrilled.

  “It’s not that bad, is it?”

  He shot me a friendly grin. “Nah, the whole mummy mask thing really suits ya. I’m sure the burnt bacon below is perfectly lovely too. You’re tough, kid, I’ll give you that.”

  The way he said the word, kid, kind of made me want to do something very kid-like, but I did my best to listen politely as he continued.

  “Just wanted to say thanks. For earlier, I mean. Pulling my ass out, catching those, uh, hybrids.” He shook his head. “Didn’t understand what the scud had even happened until after the fight.” He smiled sheepishly. “Mara caught on a lot faster. Filled me in. Guess I’ll give you her thanks too since you probably won’t be hearing it from her.”

  I glanced over and spotted Mara watching me from beside a few of the Hound fireteams. I nodded. She rolled her eyes and looked away, looking frustrated.

  Edwards chuckled. “I’m gonna pay for this. But I appreciate… uh, you know, whatever it was you did.”

  “No problem,” I said. Then, feeling like I had to say something else, I added, “You guys held it together really well out there today. I’m sorry about the Hounds we lost.”

  It probably all sounded condescending coming from a kid who was still a cycle too young to even be a legionnaire, but Edwards didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

  He clapped my unburnt shoulder with a meaty hand. “I really don’t see how that’s any of your fault. You just get yourself taken care of, huh?”

  I nodded dumbly, and with that, Edwards went to rejoin his pack, leaving me to wonder why in demons’ depths he didn’t despise me like the rest of them seemed to.

  As busy as the stale, chemically-clean-smelling halls of the medica were, the medics seemed rather averse to the notion of simply handing me a salve and sending me on my way. Something about needing to have a closer look. Especially what with all the extensive crispiness and the wild rumors already circulating about the yellow-armored civie who’d been blown from clear atop a ten floor building and lived to tell about it. Or had it been fifteen floors? Maybe twenty.

  Rumor had it that civie might’ve even been the Demon of Divinity.

  I’d have thought the story would be less shocking after the tales of the Demon of Divinity’s fall from the White Tower two cycles ago, but apparently weird was still weird. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t getting out of there in a flash.

  Thankfully, Melanie happened by and was able to help me out of a full workup with the scans she’d taken back at Vantage. She still insisted on pulling me aside for a quick checkup, though, and on properly cleaning and reapplying salve to my burns.

  “You wouldn’t believe the damage you stubborn warrior types do when you’re left alone with a wound and a bottle of salve,” she said as she worked.

  Her voice was soft, and close as she was, I could smell the fruity sweetness of whatever lip balm she was wearing. Goja fruit, maybe.

  It was kind of nice, just sitting here, letting her gentle hands—

  “Are you still with me, sir?”

  I straightened back to attention. “I, uh… Yeah. No, I…”

  She leaned back, considering me thoughtfully. I swear I could almost hear her thought land.

  “This isn’t…” I shook my head. “I mean,
this isn’t—I’m not concussed. I mean, I am, but I’m not disoriented. Because of the concussion, I mean.”

  She was warring to keep a smile from her lips, but it danced in her golden brown eyes anyway.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  She just gave me a noncommittal nod, still stifling her smile, and raised her salved hand, silently asking to resume her duty.

  I sighed and leaned in to let her. “So you were saying? About the stubborn warrior types? Which I’m totally not, by the way.”

  “Stubborn? Or a warrior?”

  I tapped at the pale yellow armor I was still hauling around. “I’m a civilian, didn’t you hear?”

  She just smiled, traced her salved thumb over my temple one last time, and turned me by the chin to inspect her work before reaching for the bandages.

  “My name’s Haldin, by the way,” I said as she began wrapping.

  “I know. Came straight up in the scans. Plus…” Her eyes widened a touch, as if she’d just realized what she’d been about to say.

  “It’s hard to miss the Demon of Divinity?”

  It was her turn to sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m Melanie.”

  “I know,” I said, smiling. “Came straight up in the scans.”

  She followed my gaze down to the tag on her coat and breathed a light laugh at herself. “Right. Well”—she put the finishing touch on the bandage wrap and leaned back, satisfied—“I think we’re all done, Haldin the unbreakable civilian.”

  “I’ll take unbreakable over Demon, I guess,” I said, gathering my gear and standing. “Thank you, Melanie.”

  She stood too, pulling off her gloves and looking like she still had consternations about letting me walk out of the medica.

  “So,” I said slowly, feeling like I had to say something, “is this the part where we hope you won’t have cause to see me again?”

  She considered that, then busied herself cleaning up the supplies she’d used. “I think it might be.” She paused to shoot me a knowing smile. “But if that stubborn itch gets you in trouble again…”