Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves (10 page)

* * *

Impyra rolled a ball of energy between the palms of her hands. It was a simple trick she had learned as a child to calm her anxiety. The dim glow of energy, the gentle pressure against her hand, and the slight tingle that pulsed through her were akin to an old friend.

The sun was traveling across the western sky, but darkness was already settling. Sheyra was asleep in the back seat. Brosen drove with a quiet resolve. Impyra listened to the hum of the engine. She could feel it's energy pulse around her, heat and fire and motion.

They raced passed a sign. “What did it say?” she asked.

“Ro'Awnor-Clee, thirty-two kilometers out,” Brosen answered.

“Ro'Awnor?” Impyra was surprised. “We're pretty far south now, aren't we?”

“Yeah, we're out of the Imperial province,” Brosen nodded. “We're a long way from Rau’Tesche-Awn now.”

“Not far enough,” Impyra sighed.

Sheyra sat up, peering blearily over the back seat. “Where are we?” She yawned.

“We just passed Ro'Awnor-Ino about half an hour ago,” Brosen said over his shoulder.

“Oh,” Sheyra said sleepily, laying back down. “We should stop soon before it gets too dark. Have some food. Dye some hair.”

Impyra saw Brosen grimace. She smiled to herself. Although he disapproved of their plan, he guided the car off the road.

Impyra opened the door. A rush of cold night air flooded in, washing away the warmth they had generated during the day. Brosen walked away to empty his bladder. She shivered as she looked around. There were trees to the east of the road. To the west she could hear the ocean rolling itself onto the shore.

Sheyra was looking through the bags they had stored in the trunk. “Ah ha!” she said as she lifted the box of dye triumphantly. “You'll have to use the sea water to wash the dye out.” She called to Brosen.

Impyra watched him turn to walk back. He started picking up branches from the ground.

“I'm going to freeze to death,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Maybe it's safe to build a fire at least.”

They hadn't seen any sign of the Enforcers during the day. Impyra didn't want to get her hopes up, but she was glad of the reprieve.

“The wood's damp. It must have rained,” Brosen announced as he dropped the sticks into a pile. “I probably can't get a fire going. And it might rain again. Or maybe even snow.”

Impyra stared at the wood, her teeth chattering. “Has anyone ever told you that you complain too much? Just step back.”

She barely gave him a chance to jump out of the way. Pulling in the energy around her she concentrated it and allowed it to release from a pointed finger. The wood burst into flames. Impyra glanced at him with a smug grin.

“Did you forget what she can do already?” Sheyra asked sarcastically.

Brosen didn't answer.

“Here,” Sheyra tossed the box of dye at him. He put his hands up as if it contained the Senna plague, allowing it to bounce off his chest.

 “I’m not putting that stuff in my hair. If it has to be done, you do it.”

“It's just dye,” Impyra sighed. “Ky Thella used it all the time.”

Sheyra laughed. “I bet you never thought you'd have something in common with the Queen.” She gave him a mock curtsy as she bent to retrieve the box. “I'll do it.”

Impyra took a seat by the fire to observe.

Brosen sat very still and straight. Sheyra stood behind him, making faces. Impyra tried not to laugh. Watching them was both comforting and confusing. Her logical mind told her that she shouldn't trust anyone, but her emotions desperately drank from the well of kindness Sheyra and Brosen had offered. She had not expected that of people.

Squeezing the last of the dye onto Brosen's head, Sheyra shaped his hair into a series of spikes. Her laughter was full of a joy that Impyra had never known. Brosen glared at her over his shoulder.

“Don't make me look stupid,” he said.

“You're going to wash it,” she said, elbowing him. “It won't stay that way.” She stood up and ran to the water, rinsing her hands in the tide.

“Do I look stupid?” Brosen asked quietly, the blue glow of his eyes darkening with his worry. 

Impyra shook her head. What a strange question. “No,” she said. “You look the same but your hair is full of slime.”

“Too bad you can't use your power on me,” he grunted.

Impyra froze. “Why?”

He looked up sharply, holding her gaze. “I just mean it's easier than all this,” he pointed to his hair.

She relaxed a little, embarrassed. “Oh, right.”

Brosen frowned. “I didn't mean I would use you,” he explained.

Impyra nodded slowly. Did he understand? Maybe he didn't fully, but at least he was trying.

“I'll get us some food,” he stood up as Sheyra returned.

Sheyra sat down hard on the ground beside Impyra, sighing. “I love the ocean,” she said.

“I've never seen it before,” Impyra said, “except on the screen.”

Brosen returned with bread and dried beef. Above them the sky darkened. Impyra's mind wandered as she ate. The power of the ocean drummed against her senses. The clouds swirled angrily above.

“When we get to Ro'Awnor-Clee it should be safe to find passage off Sa'Toret-Ekar,” Brosen said.

“Do you think we're far enough south for me to find the Resistance?” Sheyra asked.

“Probably,” Brosen shook his head, keeping his opinions to himself.

A snowflake hissed as it landed in the fire. The storm was finally upon them.

“I’m going to wash this crap out of my hair before it turns to ice,” Brosen muttered.

“We should probably sleep in the car,” Sheyra recommended, moving away from the fire.

Impyra sat alone, watching the flames battle the snow. Holding out her hand she watched as the flakes melted against her skin. She had seen snow from the Tower window, but it was the first time she'd ever been standing in the middle of it. Lifting her face to the sky she closed her eyes. Cold air filled her lungs.

Freedom.

“Hey,” Brosen's voice pulled her back. His hair was a dark brown, still dripping water. He was trying not to shiver. “Come on.” He took her by the hand and led her back to the car.

She smiled at him. For the first time, he smiled back.

CHAPTER TEN

The laboratory of Doctor Lei Dreger Lei’Orthra was a curious place. The white walls, floors, and counters had the sterile coldness of a hospital, but the clutter of vials and beakers gave the space a chaotic atmosphere. It was a confused mess and poor excuse for a laboratory belonging to the most powerful scientist in the world.

Cages stacked three high and six across lined the far wall. Each cage was large enough for an adult to sit and lay down with their knees tucked to their chest. Only five were occupied, the captives staring out with hopeless eyes. To the right of the pens were small cells enclosed in glass. Confined within were subjects infected with varying states of the Senna plague, their skin yellow and rotting and the corneas of their eyes reddening from the illness.

On the opposite side of the room were many tables that were used for various purposes; from medical operations to mixing chemicals. In between stood large machines which the doctor used as his major instruments.

Garinsith walked a slow circuit around the room as Dreger gave him the tour. The doctor was a short man with round brown eyes, his black hair cut short and oiled to his head. There was passion in his voice but it edged on madness. Garinsith would have found it amusing were he not seething with quiet anger at the man's blatant ignorance.

“This,” Dreger beamed as they stopped in front of a large machine, “is the Extractor.” He ran his fingers over the metal lovingly.

Standing nearly as high as the ceiling, two ovals of black glass extended form either side of the machine, both faced inward. Between them was a rigid metal chair featuring wide leather straps for the arms, legs, chest, and head. Other than that the thing was little more than a metal box painted a dull beige. Rows of switches and lights adorned the far side, and all was monitored with a computer terminal.

The Master Keeper listened to the residual energy emanating from the thing. Doctor Dreger's laboratory sang of death, but much torment had been wrought by this device alone. Dreger was disappointed that Garinsith did not immediately react to his introduction of the monstrosity.

“It is the primary tool of my research in removing the energy from one individual and inserting it into another, or transplanting it into inanimate objects. Energy use may be a danger in the wrong hands, but if we can remove it from those unworthy of wielding it, then we can give it to those better suited to the talent.”

“Unworthy?” Garinsith pondered the foolishness in the word. The Ekar themselves were unworthy, little more than pests beneath his boot.

“Slaves, mostly, or any who show treasonous intent,” Dreger shrugged, not comprehending Garinsith's rhetorical question.

“I assume your use of the machine has been futile,” Garinsith placed a hand on the metal band encasing one of the glass disks. The intensity of the anguish swelled into a deafening din.

Dreger licked his lips nervously. “Many have died. Those who survive often are nothing more than a shell, we’ve had to put them down.” The doctor twisted his hands nervously. “All but one,” he said at last, shaking his finger in the air.

“The girl,” Garinsith’s voice was quiet as he sifted through the fragmented souls, seeking for Impyra’s imprint. “You placed her in the machine?”

“Yes, but it had no effect. It was early on, true, and I’ve modified things since then.” Dreger walked over to the terminal and began to type. “I will bring up the file,” he said.

Within the wailing Garinsith became aware of a steady hum, the thread of a familiar song. There was light in the darkness.

“What was your hypothesis when the girl was unaffected?”

The Doctor scratched his head, “Well, uh, basically our testing showed that her energy levels dropped yearly from birth. It was clear she was an unstable specimen.”

Garinsith frowned. “It never occurred to you that perhaps you should investigate the decline?”

“Oh, we did. It’s all in her file. When her threshold of energy fell below one percent we released her as a subject entirely, noting it must have been a residual manifestation resulting from the testing performed on the mother rather than an inheritance.” The doctor puffed up his chest, not realizing the flaw in his logic.

“How long was she held here?”

“Ten years, I took ownership when she was five years old, and we concluded our research when she was fifteen. Ah,” Dreger motioned to the monitor. “Here she is. This was taken before her first round with the Extractor.”

Garinsith released the machine, the din faded back into a whisper. He stepped closer to the screen to look at the picture of very young girl, perhaps only five or six years old. Her eyes were filled with sorrow, but also with resolve. Even at such a young age she was defiant.

“Do you utilize this machine on children often?”

Dreger nodded with a smile. “When we are able; children contain such a pure form of the gift. Young Enforcers who are too strong to be put into the field are another good source of research.” He crossed his arms in thought. “Brosen En-Harn, however; he was already trained once the development was complete. I wasn’t able to acquire him.”

Intrigued by this information Garinsith folded his hands behind his back. “Brosen is atypical?”

“Oh yes, have you not been briefed? He’s the most talented soldier in over a decade. Of course, Enforcers are not given praise or privilege based on innate talent; they are all treated as equals. Among the proper circles he caused quite the uproar when he was born.” Dreger sighed, disappointed, and once more began to caress his machine. “I would have liked to have seen how he fared against the Extractor.”

Garinsith contained his disgust and turned his attention to the imprisoned slaves. “What work are you doing with them?”

Dreger clapped his hands together in excitement. “In the quarantine, of course, we’ve infected them with different strains of the plague. One is the original I developed, two mutated on their own in the population, and the fourth is an improved virus I’ve been tinkering with.”

The longer he was with the doctor the more Garinsith regretted playing along with his banishment. “And the cages?”

“They have all been vaccinated and are no longer contagious. I’m mapping their recovery and monitoring how the vaccine fares to make modifications.” Dreger beamed with pride. “It is most exciting work.”

“Tell me, 
Doctor
 Dreger,” he used to term sarcastically. “Did you infect the population outside the Tower?”

The man blushed. “Not on purpose,” he blurted, flustered. “One of my assistants fell ill when he was bitten.”

Garinsith approached the glass of the nearest cell. The woman inside sat on the floor, head bowed. Aggression from the infected wasn’t a well-documented symptom of the Senna plague, but the Master Keeper was well aware of it in historical pestilence. 
The plagued shall rise,
 he allowed the thought of an old hymn from his youth to wander through his mind. It was something the shortsighted Ekar would have discarded from their incomplete history, along with religion and art.

“Once it began to spread you allowed it to continue,” it was more a comment than an accusation.

Garinsith may not have been physically present but he was well versed in the goings on of the world. The title Master Keeper was not one of ego alone. Dreger opened his mouth, but snapped it shut, afraid to incriminate himself farther.

“You don't need to answer. It's clear that you wanted to see what would happen if the epidemic ran its course.” Garinsith's mouth stretched into a tight lipped smile. “For science.”

“I will print the girl's file,” Dreger changed the subject, no longer excited to share his work.

“Our time together has been most informative, Doctor. I do appreciate your taking time with me today,” Garinsith's made a mock bow to the scientist as he placed the stack of papers into his hands.

Dreger glowered but said nothing. Garinsith took his leave. Hopefully the girl's file would offer him the clues he sought to her nature. The fact that she learned to suppress her true strength without any guidance was impressive. The line of her clear, undamaged energy holding firm within the Extractor was another; an expression of an ancient spring that balanced between life and death.

The Akar had a name for such a soul; the Balance, one of two souls who could reset the ethereal flow and draw out the most powerful source of magic in the world; Syerset. The talisman was the primary focus of Garinsith's life work, and at last all of the proper signs were falling into place.

* * *

Preparations for Ky Gleyth's celebration were complete.

Tables were set, the orchestra was ready. In the kitchen the slaves bustled around to put the finishing touches on the feast devised by Ky Thella. Beginning early in the day the guests began to arrive by helicopter. The Emperor and his family gathered in the royal parlor to greet them with appetizers.

Gleyth did her best to appear joyful. It was only for the most important or archaic reasons that leaders of the thirteen clan gathered together in one place. She found it rather ridiculous that her blossoming into womanhood was one of them.

Each family was announced by the steward as they entered. Ka Harn stood at the door with his family lined up behind him. Each guest was given the opportunity to bow to their Emperor, while the Queen and her daughters would curtsy to those very same guests in return. Kei Len stood with their father, playing the role of a good prince despite his young age. The process was tedious at best.

Xander's absence was continuously commented on, which was a clear irritant to her father. Her brother was failing in his duty as the crown prince. Gleyth couldn't have been happier in that regard. Upsetting the nobility would not grant him any favors once he did become Emperor.

“Presenting Wa Therth Wei'Bor; his sons Wei Drody and Wei Yin and his wife Wy Melseya a-Wy'Therth,” the steward's voice was dry, but he was well trained and he did not crack under the pressure.

Wa Therth was her mother's brother. She had not seen her cousins in over a year's time. They were identical twins, and although they were of marrying age, Gleyth would not be paired with either for marriage. She was thankful for that. At least two young men in the herd would not be vying for her hand. After curtsying to her uncle he hugged her roughly.

“Look at you, already a woman grown,” he said, holding her at arm's length.

Gleyth smiled awkwardly. “It doesn't seem possible,” she laughed nervously.

“My sister has done a fine job. You will make a beautiful bride,” he added before moving on to her sisters.

And smart and interesting, 
Gleyth thought to herself. As usual she didn't dare say it out loud.

“Ha Larest Hei'Lorth, his son Hei Laren, his wife Hy Keysha a-Hy'Larest and his daughters Hy Leyenn and Hy Lurine,” The steward trumpeted without stumbling on a single L.

Gleyth prepared herself for another round of the same. Hei Laren offered a low bow to Gleyth. He was clearly one of her prospects. He was a handsome young man but not the best conversationalist. His topics tended to center around himself. That wasn't unusual for an heir, she knew, but he was one of the worst offenders. The Da and the Sa were next, but thankfully their sons were still too young for marriage.

“Fa Marden Fei'Escareyn and his son Fei Arentey,” the steward's voice was nearing the breaking point. Gleyth nearly winced in sympathy.

Fei Arentey approached. His father was a large man with a barrel chest and matching belly. Arentey did not take after the man, however; and must have resembled his mother. Tall and willowy, he had a long face with high cheek bones. As he bowed he caught Gleyth's eye, reminding her that his own were two different colors; the left brown and right green. It was unsettling.

As the introductions wound down, the steward announced yet another guest “Petor Garinsith, Master Keeper of Wisdom. Lethel Jilorn, Commanding Officer, Tyn Larest, First Lieutenant, Kevie Drost, Second Lieutenant of the Mutilator Army.”

A hush filled the room as they entered. It was usual for outsiders to be welcomed into state affairs, not to mention the widespread rumors of Garinsith's history. Behaving as the nobility had with their bowing and pleasantries, the crowd returned to the usual chatter, only laced with whispers obviously aimed at the unusual guests.

Kevie tipped in a shallow bow, keeping his eyes firmly locked with Gleyth's, forcing her to blush. She didn't understand his motives. He moved on without a single word. The princess chided herself for feeling a pang of disappointment.

Freed from the welcoming committee, she was expected to mingle. Making small talk with people she hardly knew was worse than having to greet them. Discussion revolved around the obvious topics.

“The weather has been very usual; don't you think? I know it’s winter but it's never this cold this early. And snow? I could hardly believe it.”

“Has there been any word on the capture of the escaped slaves? We've set extra guards throughout our Tower and are having every one of our slaves questioned for motive.”

“Is Kei Xander out hunting the slaves? Is that why he's missing your celebration?”

“I am guessing your gown will be amazing!”

“Ky Thella knows how to plan a meal; I've been looking forward to it since the invitation arrived!”