Catalyst (The Second Cycle Book 1)

by Solstice Locke

Silence.

  “Very well,” Kura continued in a huff, “Then what is the plan?”

  Amaria’s spoke next, her voice pitched low and her exact expression forming in his mind as she said, “We could up the stakes. I mean, it’s well past time for playing nice.”

  “What is she talking about?” asked Kura.

  It was quiet for a tense moment, Fel held his breath. She wanted war and judging from the silence Kade was considering it.

  “I’m sorry, Ambassador, this parley is over.” More silence. Bodies moved, shuffling about, Fel wished he could see, but he was too distracted to consider altering his enchantment. “This is not the course I intended, but we’re up against it now.”

  “Wait,” Kura’s voice was tight, not as confident, “What does this mean for me? For my friend in the cell? How are you intending to change course?”

  Amaria’s responding laughter sent a cold chill down Fel’s spine.

  He hardly registered their approaching footsteps. He backed away and ran for cover just in time. Fel scrambled to right himself, control his heart and breathing, but everything was racing. War. This was the outcome he’d been dreading, though he knew it had to come eventually. He just thought there would be more time. And the politician in that cell, he’d be the first example. They were done stealing supplies or disrupting the peace. There would be destruction and blood.

  Distantly, he heard Kade’s voice amplified through the base, his voice monotonously relaying his orders for their first attack. It would take time, their numbers were scattered, weapons needed to be distributed and satellite groups needed to be informed so that they could better coordinate. All that would take time, but not much. Two days? Maybe three.

  Fel’s heart sank like a stone. This was his home. His family. The world hated and feared him, rejected what he could do through no fault of his own. He didn’t ask for the power.

  He looked to the dungeon.

  Did he stay and fight? He was a Chanter. This was his war and Kade was more his leader than the Queen. This world would not be kind to him if he left. His fingers closed over his wrist, over the serial numbers branding him. He owed that politician nothing. He owed the world nothing. Turning on his only allies would be the dumbest move he’d ever made.

  Fuck. Fel ran for the dungeons.

  2

  Aldon waited in the bleak darkness of his cell. He had no memory of how he got here, only of waking up surrounded by solid rock. He could hear nothing and it unnerved him to the core. He was a child of the city, such absolute quiet put him on edge. Even fatigue could not bring him to rest.

  His only companion was supposed to be securing their release. Aldon doubted the Ambassador would be able to achieve any level of freedom. The Free Chanters now held a powerful bargaining tool. They weren’t likely to give that up, so the Ambassador would be staying, of that Aldon was certain. He, however, was expendable. He would be lucky if he saw the end of this.

  Time was irrelevant, he had no clue how long he’d been unconscious and no way of knowing how long since he’d woken up. He couldn’t know how long Kura had been gone, but it was beginning to feel like hours. After awhile Aldon began to pace, the passing minutes fueling the anxiety caged in his chest. With nothing better to occupy him, Aldon began to search for weaknesses in his cell. Escape was unlikely, but it was something to do.

  It was a very short search. The bars of his cell were the only objects not carved from the rock and so the door was the only way in or out. Unless he found a tool and a lot of patience, digging was out of the question. If he somehow managed to walk out the front door there were countless Free Chanters waiting at the end of that lonely hallway. He’d lose a fight, the numbers were against him and his combat experience was swing his arms and hope it hit the right target. If he timed it right, he might blend in until he found the exit. But there were a lot of contingencies and any number of unpredictable obstacles.

  Aldon had nearly finished overthinking his options when rapid footsteps thundered down the hallway. He watched the shadow grow along the curved wall until it formed the tattooed Chanter who had brought their food trays. The man slammed into the bars and caught his breath, eyes checking behind him.

  “What’s happened?” Aldon asked, his pulse racing. He could sense a chaotic energy in the air, his gut was telling him something was happening, something he should fear.

  The man merely gestured frantically for him to move back. Aldon might have been hesitant to trust him, but instinct told him to move. He took several steps back.

  The man twisted his fingers and the cell door swung open. Aldon considered rushing him—knock him to the ground and bolt for an exit, but he stayed. Instead he waited for direction.

  The man stole another glance over his shoulder then began to sign, “You have to follow me. Now.”

  Reason and logic begged Aldon to follow any other path, pleaded that trusting a Chanter that first attacked him, knocked him unconscious, and threw him in a dungeon was insanity. But his gut screamed something else and Aldon didn’t have time to let the two argue.

  He gave the man a silent nod.

  Together they fled back down the corridor, but the sound of voices brought the Chanter to a halt. His hands flew through the air, creating a hum of energy as solid wall turned to dust. The man pushed Aldon into the new passage and sealed it behind them. It was pitch darkness for half a second before light sparked from the man’s fingers as he used his free hand to create a path in the stone.

  Their secret path eventually opened onto a gigantic chamber, completely encompassed by rock. Aldon had no doubt they were underground now. His eyes went up, head tilting back to take in the scope of the city—for it was nothing short of one. Structures were built throughout with ramps and bridges acting like roads. Activity thrummed in the air. He was breathless for a moment, shock numbing him to the impending danger.

  The man grabbed his arm and hauled him along. They kept near the outermost wall, shadowed from the light of spheres hovering in the chamber like floating stars. As if he had stepped into space and were amidst the constellations.

  Aldon kept close to his ally. He didn’t know why help was being offered, and even though he had taken it, he was still wary. Aldon could only see the man’s back as they shuffled down alleys and up ladders, so they couldn’t communicate, before he finally turned into a room and gestured Aldon inside. He shut the door and activated the spheres. A storage room with shelves of boxes and containers.

  “We need to disguise you until I can get you topside,” the man said, his hands moved quickly—almost sloppy. His gestures were stilted and he jerked too early or too late. It was an extremely unpolished version of Sign Aldon had been taught. The way he moved his hands was the Sign equivalent of an accent or speech impediment.

  “Why are you helping me?” Aldon replied. The man began to rummage through boxes until he found one filled with uniforms. He threw the box at Aldon’s feet, glancing away. When he looked back Aldon was close enough to catch the off color of his eyes, one brown the other blue.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” he signed. The man started picking through the clothes. “Find something that fits and change.”

  “Why? I’ve never known Chanters to wear uniforms.”

  The man smirked, a lopsided grin that sent a flutter in Aldon’s chest. A sensation he was quick to shoo away. The man replied, “Cause you look rich and everyone down here is poor.”

  Aldon nodded dumbly and started to remove his jacket and waistcoat.

  “Just the shirt is fine, no one will notice your pants,” The man continued and quickly added, “I’m Fel, by the way.”

  “Aldon.”

  “I know.”

  The silence quickly grew awkward and Aldon hurried to undo all the buttons on his shirt and sleeves. He turned away as he threw his clothes to the ground and let the thick wool of the offered shirt and sweater scratch and tickle against his skin.

  “Now what?” He asked.

 
; “Now,” Fel said, “Now, I figure out how to get you to the surface before a war breaks out.”

  Aldon’s heart dropped. “War?”

  “There’s not time to explain, but the gist is that Free Chanters aren’t going to be low key anymore. Kade wants everyone to know who we are and what we’re capable of.”

  “Kura?” Aldon asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. If the Ambassador was alive that would be something, but...for how much longer?

  Fel winced, shrugging, “He’s alive. I’m not sure what they plan for him, but you were supposed to die.”

  “Then...I suppose...I should thank you for saving me.”

  Fel shrugged again and opened the door. “We can worry about Kura later, let’s get out of here first. I’m not exactly safe anymore, either.”

  Aldon shook the miasmic tumble of thoughts to the back of his mind. One problem at a time. Once he was out of the fire he would worry about the frying pan.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  JUST KISS ALREADY, DAMN

  1

  Dian woke half-blinded by the rising sun. He was in his clothes from the day before, the bed untouched, and his neck ached when he turned. He shuffled to the water basin and splashed tepid water in his face.

  He began the routine of changing clothes and hygiene while his mind calculated every possible way things could go wrong today. Dividing into groups was not ideal, as it meant removing too many of his team from his supervision, but it was also the fastest way to search Meraton. He was still unsure how he would divide them, but breaking up the convict clicks was the first obvious necessity. His biggest concerns were Kirst and Avaris. He paused, realizing he’d finished dressing and had begun pacing, and checked the time.

  He would stick Avaris with Jesiah, the man he trusted most, and Kirst with himself. It was the rational and honest choice.

  Dian managed a few bites of a breakfast while he waited for his unit. Kirst had fallen asleep in the lobby with a note on his face that read wake me when we leave. Dian decided to accept it as an attempt to correct his behavior and allowed it. The rest trickled down before he had the chance to get impatient.

  “Do we get to eat first?” Jade asked. She fell into the chair beside him and reached over him for the leftover food on his plate. Dian was tempted to remind everyone that if they wanted to eat, they should have woken up earlier, but he resisted. He pushed himself back from the table and slid his plate to her, so she was no longer leaning in his lap and sprinkling his pants with crumbs. Until this mission was over, he needed to pick his battles or he risked pushing them too far past their tolerance or loyalties. This was command, adapting to the situation and preparing your troops accordingly.

  Dian gave them ten minutes before they boarded the next shuttle into Meraton. The Shuttle System was new and only connected Azlemaine to Lucindra, with three stops in Rookswood, Meraton, and Celumaer. Large occupancy cars zoomed silently along a track. Caprice refrained from eating and had changed from her Roseguard uniform to a plain set of overalls with high socks and boots. Her hair was let down, covering part of her face and the bags forming under her eyes. She looked to have gotten even less sleep than he had.

  When their ten minutes was up they left for the shuttle station and boarded a fairly uninhabited shuttle car to Meraton. They boarded an empty compartment so they wouldn’t be overheard while Dian gave them their orders. He stood, holding onto a handrail while he spoke.

  “We’re going to divide into teams, each covering a different section of the city—”

  Jade grabbed Liam’s hand and raised it up, “Team Better Than You.”

  Dian met her eyes, which was a mistake. “No, not this time. All former convicts are pairing with one enlisted soldier.”

  Jade leapt up from her seat, hair flowing behind her, and latched onto Kirst, “Then Kirst’s my partner.”

  He watched Kirst throw an arm around her, their temperaments allowing for a natural camaraderie. She laced her fingers through his, shoulders touching.

  “Absolutely not,” He said, more sharply than he meant to, “You’re the two biggest contingencies, I’m not pairing you with him.” He cleared his throat of some of the uncalled for venom and continued, “I’ve already decided the teams.”

  “I am not working with Wakefield,” Jade snapped, then she offered him a placating look, “No offense.”

  Wakefield nodded. “No, that’s fair.”

  “Avaris, you’re with me,” Dian said. She stared openly, but he ignored her and moved on. “Kirst is with Jesiah. Gandry with Ayell.”

  “I’ll go with the Roseguard,” Liam said, earning a jaw drop from Jade. And, honestly, shocking Dian, too. Caprice seemed to pull herself from a miserable daydream, listlessly agreeing to go with whoever.

  Dian considered the suggestion, weighing what he knew of them, and saw no reason to refute the request. “Fine, Liam and Arvet. That leaves Menoza, Wakefield, and Ordessa for the team of three.” He ran through their assignments, which section of the city each group would take, and what they were looking for. He instructed them to keep their radios active and to report everything. Then he sat down and stared at the window across from him, arms folded as he swayed slightly with the motion of the shuttle.

  Jesiah sat beside him as they raced down the track. He looked straight ahead, but it was clear he had come over to say something.

  “Dare I ask?” He started.

  Dian set his eyes out the window, tracing his lips with his finger.

  “I see,” Jesiah continued, “Man, that is...inconvenient. Figures you would, too.”

  “Would what?” Dian turned, annoyed by the implication he couldn’t exactly deny.

  Jesiah eyed him, shaking his head. Dian shifted his arms, the sparse cabin suddenly felt crowded. “I just mean, you’re finally interested in something not work-related and she’s off-limits.”

  Dian’s jaw clenched.

  “I mean, forget the whole superior officer garbage,” Jesiah prattled on, “Technically speaking, she’s like a prisoner and you’re the guard. It would be...illegal. Immoral, yeah, but definitely illegal. The power imbalance alone is...you’d destroy your career. Annihilate it.”

  “I get it,” Dian snapped, forcing his thoughts to the mission at hand.

  “Right,” Jesiah’s voice was low beside him, a sigh escaping. “Mission first. Got it.”

  “This mission is about more than me or you or any one of us,” Dian said. He took a deep breath. “We all need to focus.” And, of course, by ‘we’ he meant himself. No more distractions.

  The shuttle thundered into the station at Meraton and they disembarked. Meraton was a hustling stop-through city. Travelers accounted for nearly half the population on any given day. It was a city filled with commotion and life, but still held its rural look and atmosphere. The buildings were no higher than a few stories and boasted older architecture often found in country villages. Thick wood beams, gabled roofs, lattice window covers with vines sprouting all shades of flowers creeping up the sides of plaster walls.

  Dotted throughout the lobby traffic were enchanting ports with wires crisscrossing above their heads like glowing webs that sizzled when a moth flittered too close. Ports were outdated, bigger cities learned to weave enchantment currents into the rock and bone of a city’s infrastructure, but Meraton hadn’t had the time or spare resources to address an outmoded idea that still worked perfectly well.

  The members of Cobalt split up toward their respective paths through Meraton. Dian and Jade started for the southern side of the city. Their path was right up the center, where the populace would be more densely packed and crowded. It would be the more difficult course to search and so Dian wanted it for himself.

  They twisted and turned their way down side streets and alleys without much to see, before emerging into a bustling city center and market square. Carts with towers of produce and natural goods, stands sporting meats and fish caught from the day’s hunt, and shops with their doo
rs open and the aroma of oily food danced with homemade perfumes.

  Jade hadn’t spoken much since they left, which was a blessing. Dian was wary of the direction this mission would take if she started talking to him. A conversation with her could so easily meander in a million different directions it was impossible to predict which course it would take. And that was unnerving. She started to pull ahead of him, sending him a wide smile over her shoulder. She ran up to each stall, gawking unabashed at the goods on display. He was startled enough by her enthusiasm to allow her aimless wandering longer than he should. They weren’t here to shop.

  “It’s just like Montressor, only smaller, and” she took in a deep breath, “Infinitely better. Have you ever smelled low tide? Because once you do, all the perfume in the world couldn’t mask it,” She lifted a shiny glass bottle and spritzed the air, then stepped through the cloud. She bounded to him and held her jacket in his face, as far as her shorter stature could manage, and ordered, “Sniff.”

  Again, unpredictable. Rattled, he tried to push her away instead of search his mind for an answer when his thoughts were all stampeding mayhem.

  “It smells like sunshine and laughter and the punchline of a great joke,” Her description was so earnest, that somehow he agreed it was perfect. “I’d pick out one for you, but you already smell amazing. What kind of soap do you use? I want to drown in it.”

  He jerked his head, thoughts clattering around like dice in a cup, “My...soap?”

  “Yes, like some sort of woodsy, pine tree smell…” She turned away, “Anyway. Aren’t we supposed to be working? What kind of boss are you?” She nearly knocked him over with her shoulder as she strode past. “You’re lucky I’m here, this sort of place can be chaos if you don’t know what you’re doing. I grew up in markets like this so I’ll take the lead. We’ll find this secret base in no time.” Her words were tight, quick. But then she shrugged it off and the tension eased from her shoulders. Dian watched her back, wondering if he hadn’t cursed this mission by pairing himself with her. She was wild and erratic, a terrible mix of beauty and charm, and utterly devastating. He steeled himself for a long day of trying to keep his own head above water as a siren tried to drag him into the murky fathoms of failure.