by L O Addison
“Clear,” Matteo said, lowering his weapon.
He’d hardly finished speaking when Adrien dropped down next to them, landing with the smooth grace of a cat. Lio glanced up and found Red staring down at them, his head tilted uncertainly.
Lio pointed to the ground. “Come.”
Red ignored him, staring back into the depths of the tunnel and letting out an anxious snort. Before Lio could do anything to stop him, the little dragon whirled around and dashed off, his paws thumping on the thin metal above their heads.
“Red!” Lio called quietly. “Come back!”
But he was already gone, the sound of his retreat growing fainter and fainter.
“Where the hell is he going?” Matteo asked.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” Adrien said, already moving toward one of the storage cabinets lined up along the wall. “Now where do we find those uniforms?”
Lio opened his mouth to protest, but then he slowly closed it. He didn’t like the thought of abandoning Red, not after the dragon had risked his life for theirs multiple times. But there was likely nothing they could do to get him to come back, and they had no time to stop and try.
Matteo strode toward a cabinet on the opposite side of the room and pulled it open, revealing stacks of grey uniforms. He quickly pulled out some that would fit and tossed the clothes to Lio and Adrien for them to change into.
As Lio took off his shirt, something wet smeared across his cheek. He brushed his fingers over his face, and they came away reddened with blood. He stared down at it for a long, painful moment, realizing it was Marin’s.
Matteo came over and shoved a spare shirt at Lio. He shakily took it and wiped the blood off his cheek, trying to focus on Matteo’s face instead of the bloody cloth in his hands. Pity flashed across Matteo's face, and he reached out to rest a comforting hand on Lio's shoulder. The warmth of the soldier's hand managed to burn through the numbness overtaking Lio, and he forced himself to take a deep breath, shaking off the sorrow that was threatening to paralyze him.
"Grieve later," Matteo said quietly. "For now, just focus on revenge."
Lio nodded and quickly finished pulling on the uniform. Matteo rifled around a metal cabinet in the corner of the room and came back with three pistols. They were all laser pistols, much to Lio’s relief. He had no interest in handling the humans’ explosively loud gunpowder pistols.
“These have stun settings,” Matteo said, showing them a button on the side of the pistol. “Try to keep it on that setting. There are a lot of young recruits in this area.”
Adrien eagerly snatched up a pistol, and Lio tucked one into his holster, making sure it was set to stun. He left the other pistol he’d been carrying on the shelf—it was nearly out of charge, and it’d soon be useless.
“I think the Virtue is near,” Matteo said as he holstered his own weapon. “It keeps tugging at me.”
Lio nodded. He could feel the tug of the Virtue too, although he’d had to mentally block it out so he could concentrate on getting through the air vents. He closed his eyes and took down the mental walls he’d erected, letting his fingers reach up and clasp the Fragment hanging from his neck.
As soon as he focused on the pull of the Virtue, its power washed over him like a rogue wave, filling his chest and flooding his veins. He couldn’t breathe. When he chased after Fragments, their pulse was a delicate string that gently tugged him toward their precise location. But the Virtue of War was a magnet that tugged at every nerve in his body. Its power saturated the air, leaving him unable to tell exactly where the pull was coming from.
Lio took a deep breath, struggling to clear his mind and focus. Another pulse washed over his skin, and… There. To his left. The pulse seemed slightly stronger in that side of his body, as if that’s where the power was concentrated.
Lio snapped his eyes open and dropped the Fragment, pushing away the connection. He could still feel it tugging at the corners of his mind, but he forced himself to ignore it. He turned toward his left, and even though he could only see rows of storage cabinets, he was sure he was facing the right direction.
“It’s coming from that way,” he said to Matteo, pointing.
Matteo nodded. “That’s where I thought I felt it, too.”
“What’s over that way?” Adrien asked.
“The East Wing,” Matteo said. “It’s where the Shepherd’s office is and all the holding cells. And it also has an underground hangar for visitors who come to the base. Most trade deals go on over there.”
“What about my siblings?” Adrien demanded. “Would they be held there?”
Matteo nodded. “That’d be my guess.” He gestured for the others to follow him and headed toward the door. He paused at the exit to point to Adrien. "If anyone stops us, you're a new recruit who got caught stealing from the kitchens. Lio and I are escorting you to the Shepherd’s office at his request."
Adrien snorted. "Do I really look dumb enough to be caught stealing?"
"You look like a Warden recruit," Matteo said, roughly plucking at Adrien's drab grey uniform. "Unless you want to be killed, start acting like it.”
Matteo put his ear to the door, listening for anyone on the other side. After a moment, he shoved it open and strode out, gesturing for the others to follow him. Lio slipped out and looked up and down the long, thin hallway. There wasn't a soul in sight.
Matteo grabbed Adrien's shoulder, nudging him forward as they started down the hall. Adrien squirmed and glared up at him, not struggling at all to play the role of the insolent young recruit. But he didn't break Matteo's grasp, and the three of them marched silently down the hallway, moving as quickly as they could without looking suspicious.
"Where is everyone?" Lio murmured, shifting closer to Matteo.
"Lunch,” Matteo replied in a whisper. "Everyone who’s not on guard duty is going to be in the cafeteria, not here in the barracks."
Adrien gave another squirm. "Then why the theatrics?" he muttered.
"Because of that," Matteo said, his voice curt and quiet.
Lio almost asked what he was talking about, but then he heard it—a pair of bootsteps coming toward them, echoing from around the corner. A guard, no doubt. Lio's heart thudded in his chest, and he looked down, pretending to focus on Adrien so he could hide his face without making it obvious he was trying to.
A guard rounded the corner. She had a rifle slung over her back and a pistol holstered at her slender waist. She was fairly young, probably around thirty in Earthen years, but her face was lined with haggard exhaustion and boredom. Suspicion narrowed her eyes as she spotted the three of them, and she held up her palm in a clear signal to stop.
"What are you boys doing here?" she asked. "The mess hall is that way." She pointed to the section of the hallway that branched off to their right.
"Not boys, guards, same as you," Matteo said, stopping a few yards away from her. His voice instantly changed, no longer the anxious whisper from just moments before. Now it mimicked the guard's own mood, bored and tired.
The woman shook her head. "I know all the barracks guards, and you’re not one of them.”
"We're not barracks guards,” Matteo said. “We monitor the East Offices."
"Oh," the woman said, and her shoulders suddenly straightened a little.
Matteo jostled Adrien's shoulder a bit. "This idiot got caught in the kitchens trying to steal some extra rations. We’re escorting him to the Shepherd’s office so they can have a chat about stealing.”
Their ploy worked well enough—with Adrien trapped between them as their "captive," the guard focused all her attention on the boy, not giving Lio much of a second glance.
"Nothing worse than a thief," the woman said, giving Adrien a reproachful stare.
"Are you kidding me?" Adrien muttered, glaring up at the woman. "Ever met a murderer?"
Matteo shook him sharply, not having to feign his desire for the boy to shut up. But he remained composed and said to the guard, "Do us a favo
r and look over the kitchens again, will you? Make sure none of this idiot's friends got in there."
The woman offered a salute and then sauntered off down the hall. Lio's heart kept pounding even as she disappeared around the corner, the sound of her footsteps fading.
"That went smoothly," Matteo said, striding forward again. Despite his confident words, Lio could hear a slight tremor in the soldier's voice.
"You handled it well," Lio said.
Matteo grunted, and Lio got the feeling the soldier wasn't used to hearing that sort of blatant praise.
They followed Matteo down two more hallways, although they didn't run into any more guards. Not that it calmed Lio's nerves the slightest bit. Every second that passed without seeing anyone put him even more on edge.
“I’m taking us to the entrance of the East Wing,” Matteo said, turning to Lio. “But I’m going to need you to guide me when we start getting closer to the Virtue. I can only get a vague feeling of where it is.”
Lio nodded, although he silently wondered how Matteo couldn’t feel it more. The pulse coming off the Virtue of War was heavier than any he'd ever felt. Most of the pulses he’d felt from Fragments had made him feel a sense of peace, reminding him of his connection to the universe. But the Virtue of War made him feel small and helpless, dredging up a chilling sense of loneliness that spread to his bones. A shiver ran over his skin, but he shook it off and forced himself to focus on taking one step after another, moving closer to the Virtue.
Hulking double doors stood at the end of the hallway, barring off whatever lay behind them. Matteo slowed as they neared the doors, his forehead crinkling with concern.
“The East Wing isn’t usually locked off this time of day,” he said.
“Can you get us past?” Lio asked.
“I’m not sure,” Matteo admitted, eyeing the lock uncertainly. It was made of gleaming metal with a digital screen, and it was nothing like the decrepit old lock Kaylin had busted past earlier.
“Can’t you just crack the code?” Adrien said impatiently.
Matteo frowned uncertainly and reached out toward the keypad. Before he even touched it, the doors burst open. Matteo leaped back, barely avoiding being struck in the face. Lio whirled toward the open doorway. A boy stood there in a guard’s uniform. He couldn’t have been older than fifteen, although his face was lined with a cold anger that belonged to a man far older.
Shock lit the boy’s face as he took in the sight of Matteo. Lio and Matteo both moved to draw their weapons, but the boy was faster. He whipped up his rifle, aiming it straight at Matteo's chest.
“Put your hands above your heads,” the boy commanded. “All of you. Now.”
Lio and Matteo obeyed immediately, realizing they didn’t have a choice. The boy was only feet away from them, and his finger hovered over the rifle’s trigger. Adrien hesitated, but Lio shot him a sharp glance. They might get a chance to resist, but this wasn’t the right moment. Adrien gave a sharp nod of understanding and raised his own hands.
"Matteo," the boy with the rifle said. He bared his teeth in a harsh smile. "Can’t say I expected you to run back home so soon. Miss us already?"
Matteo's eyes grew wide as he stared down at the boy. "Jaxon," he said, speaking the name like a curse.
Jaxon tilted his head, scanning over Matteo with a calm look of contempt. "I have to admit, I didn’t think you'd ever have the balls to break into here. Not that it’s surprising you'd try something so stupid."
"Jaxon, you have no idea what's going on," Matteo said, his voice low and desperate.
Jaxon scoffed. "I know damn well what's going on. You defected, and now you're working with the Resistance." He gestured over his shoulder, through the door. "I just came from chatting with two of your new friends."
A small bubble of relief rose in Lio's chest. That must have meant Kaylin and Beck were still alive. At least for now.
Jaxon swept his gaze over Adrien and then Lio, examining them closely. He took a single, shocked step back, his eyes widening as he locked eyes with Lio.
"You're alien," Jaxon said, shifting his weapon to point straight at Lio's chest. He spoke the words as a low, condemning growl. “You’re the one they were chasing in the tunnels.”
"Yes," Lio said. “But I’m not here to hurt you, I swear. I’ve come to help.”
Jaxon's lip lifted in a snarl, and he shot a furious glare at Matteo. "You leave us, betray us, and then bring an alien back to our home?”
"He's telling the truth," Matteo said. “He’s here to help.”
"You believe him?" Jaxon repeated, his voice rising to an incredulous snarl. "Are you kidding me, Matteo? He's here to get us all killed!”
“No, the Shepherd is going to be the one to get us all killed,” Matteo snapped. “Why do you think I left? Why do you think I’m risking my life coming back here? We were wrong, Jaxon. All of us. The Shepherd doesn’t want to save us, he wants to use us.”
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. “Who convinced you of that? Kaylin? Or was it the man she’s with?”
There was something odd about the way Jaxon mentioned Kaylin, almost as if she was an old acquaintance and not a prisoner who he’d met only minutes before.
“You spoke with Kaylin?” Matteo said, his voice rising hopefully. “Is she all right?”
“She was captured breaking into our base,” Jaxon said darkly. “She’s far from all right.” He raised his rifle, advancing closer toward them. But as he neared Matteo, his steps faltered.
“Is what she said true?” Jaxon demanded.
“Probably,” Matteo said simply. “She doesn’t lie often.”
Hesitation flashed across Jaxon’s face. “She said she thought I was dead. Is that true?”
His tone was dead serious, making it clear that the boy thought his question was vital. But Lio couldn’t figure out what in the world it meant. He looked to Matteo, hoping he might be able to answer, but Matteo looked just as confused.
Then Lio peered more closely at Jaxon, forcing himself to focus on the boy’s face, rather than the rifle in his hands. The fierce look in his hazel eyes was strikingly familiar. It only took Lio a moment to figure out why—it was identical to Kaylin's defiant gaze.
Lio looked over the boy, recognizing other similarities. Same brown hair, same bronze skin, same lean build, same sharp nose and jawbone. And now that he thought about it, he was fairly sure “Jaxon” was the name Kaylin had used when she talked about her younger brother.
“You’re Kaylin’s brother,” Lio said quietly, shaking his head in disbelief.
Jaxon turned toward Lio, his eyes narrowing. “How the hell do you know who I am?”
“She told me about you,” Lio said simply. “And you look so much like her, it’s fairly obvious she’s your sister.”
The boy tightened his grip on his rifle. “That woman is not my sister,” Jaxon spat. “Not anymore. She left me. She abandoned me and saved her own skin.”
“No,” Lio said, shaking his head. “She’s mourned you for years. She thought you were killed in a bombing.”
Wariness coursed across his expression. “Is that what she told you?”
“That’s exactly what Kaylin said,” Matteo said, nodding.
Jaxon shook his head. “No. You’re lying. She abandoned me,” he said, his voice cracking on the last word. “The Shepherd’s sure of it.”
“That’s a lie,” Matteo said. “The Shepherd will say anything to get you to turn your back on your old family and swear loyalty to the Wardens.”
Fire ignited in the boy’s gaze, and he focused it straight on Matteo. “Are those the lies the Resistance told you to get you to defect?”
Matteo shook his head. “No. I defected on my own.” He took a deep breath, calming his tone as he said, “Jaxon, there is so much the Shepherd has hidden from all of us. So many lies and half-truths he’s told.”
“You’re the liar, not the Shepherd,” Jaxon snarled. “The Shepherd just wants what’s best for us. He c
onsiders us family.”
“He killed my family.”
It was Adrien who spoke, and his voice was so quiet and deadly calm, it made Lio flinch.
Jaxon’s face screwed up in disbelief, and he turned toward Adrien, regarding him with a look of contempt. Adrien continued, his words coming in a cold rush, like an icy creek tumbling over a cliff.
“I have eighteen brothers and sisters who I’ve taken care of for three years. None of us are related by blood, but that doesn’t matter. We’re family. We take care of each other, no matter what happens.”
A silent tear streaked down Adrien’s face, but he didn’t bother to wipe it away. He just stared Jaxon straight in the eye and said, “I failed them. I talked to Kaylin and Beck when they stumbled into our territory. All I told them was to screw off and not come back, but the Shepherd didn’t care. He saw me talking to the Resistance, so he decided to send a message.”
Anger rose into Adrien’s voice, making his words tremble with rage. “Three. That’s how many people in my family were slaughtered by your Shepherd. Emma, James, and Julian. Five others were herded up like cattle and taken as prisoners.”
Jaxon shook his head. “No. It must have been a mistake. The Shepherd takes in kids and gives them a second chance at life. He doesn’t kill them.”
“I saw it with my own two eyes,” Adrien snapped. “Warden soldiers wearing Warden garb carrying Warden weapons killed my siblings.”
“I don’t believe you,” Jaxon said, but the boy’s voice was weak and shaky, with absolutely none of his previous conviction.
“You’ve seen them,” Lio said softly. “Haven’t you? You’ve seen Adrien’s surviving siblings.”
