The Unseen Tempest (Lords of Arcadia) Page 5

  Leaving her in the darkness once again.

  FERRA PACED the small waiting room, trying to keep her temper under control as she fought the feeling of helplessness at being locked in the room.

  Molly watched her patiently, knowing there was more on the barbarian’s mind than just being locked in. Their relationship had been slow going at best, partly because most of their time had been taken up trying to find the workshop, but mostly because of Ferra’s cultural upbringing. The Articus natives frowned upon any relationships that strayed from the normal boy/girl pairing, claiming same-gender relationships were abominations to Logos.

  Molly had heard those kinds of beliefs before.

  As a clockwork companion, she was designed to understand and accept any kind of relationship she encountered, though she was the first to admit her affection for Ferra was not just programming. The blue-skinned woman was unlike any person Molly had met before, and she found herself more and more drawn to her. There had been so much unsaid between them lately than actually spoken out loud, but Molly knew pressing the point would only cause Ferra to retreat further.

  “So tell me why they would think your kind would revolt?” Ferra asked as they waited.

  Molly considered the question for a moment; the sound of her internal gears whirring was the only sound for a few seconds. “Clockwork beings are ruled by a series of main gears, all of them dependent on being kept tightly wound.” Ferra nodded, having witnessed her companion regularly tighten her gears since they had met. “I possess seven main gears, even though only six are currently working. Some of the earlier models managed to get by with as few as three, and I have heard some clockworks had as many as eleven. Each handles a specific function that translates into human actions.”

  “Thought, action, speech, compassion, coquettion, and etiquette,” Ferra rattled off. “I am well aware of your springs, Molly. What does this have to do with starting a revolution?”

  The clockwork girl paused, which was her equivalent of sighing. “There are other springs we possess that are meant to never wind down.”

  “Like?”

  “Like a morality spring. It is a main spring that regulates if we are generally good beings or not. It is rare, but there are tales of models whose morality springs wear out or actually break, and when they do, the clockworks find a life of servitude to be beneath them. The failsafe was made to prevent these rogue clockworks from ordering others to rebel as well.”

  Ferra asked her next question carefully. “You talk like it has happened before.”

  Before Molly could answer, the floor shook beneath their feet, and the faint sound of a distant explosion could be heard from the dumbwaiter shaft. Both girls stood still, listening for follow-up noises. The couch’s eyes flew open as its normally cheerful voice transformed into something darker and more ominous. “The workshop has been breached,” it intoned. “Defenses have been enacted. The workshop has been breached. Defenses have been enacted.”

  Ferra clenched her fist, and an ice spear formed in her grip. “What does that mean?”

  Molly looked around the room nervously. “It means Caerus triggered some kind of alarm in the workshop.”

  “What does it mean by defenses?” Ferra asked as a screeching sound began beyond the southern wall and quickly grew louder.

  Molly paused, cocking her head as she tried to identify the sound, which grew in volume, and a metallic squealing began to fill the room. “What is that?” Ferra screamed over the din.

  Molly uttered one word that was filled with a lifetime of fear and dread. “Choppers.”

  Before Ferra could ask her to elaborate, the sound of metal cutting metal blasted through the room, and the southern wall began to vibrate. Ferra moved between Molly and the wall as the tips of a buzz saw cut through the metal barrier, throwing sparks everywhere. The line lengthened as the seconds went on.

  The couch continued to intone, “The workshop has been breached. Defenses have been enacted,” as the choppers cut through the wall.

  ATER WOKE up in a bed, which was not what he had hoped: he had hoped not to wake up at all. Centuries of training kicked in, and he listened and looked around him before attempting to sit up. He rose slowly, never moving his gaze from the elf seated in the shadows, watching him silently. “I’m alive,” he said, ignoring the twinge of pain speaking brought to his jaw and the greater pain disappointment caused in his heart.

  “For now,” the other elf stated, his voice thick with emotion. Ater remembered the tone well, even though the last time he had heard it was centuries before.

  “It’s nice to know the Elven Code of Life is still as malleable as I remember.”

  The grim-faced elf jumped from his seat and lunged across the room, at the same instant he pulled his dagger and pointed it at Ater’s neck. “Dark elves have turned their backs on Koran! You aren’t protected by the Code, and you know it! So don’t speak to me about the Code unless you are willing to do it while holding your tongue in your hand.”

  Ater considered speaking again to learn how far he could push before the other elf killed him. However, another thought crossed his mind and made him hold his tongue. For some reason, he was alive, and he needed to know why. There was more than enough time to get himself killed later. Leaning up against the headboard of the bed, he waited until Kor found a way to curb his temper. After a tense few minutes, the elf resheathed his dagger and went back to sitting in the chair.

  “Tell me how it happened,” he commanded after a moment’s pause.

  Ater had been dreading this since the moment he decided to come back to Evermore to tell Kor his brother was dead. He could tell the angered elf that Pullus had died saving the youngest member of the Crystal Court from an agonizing death at the hands of a djinn. He could try to explain how Puck had manipulated them into traveling to Earth to kill Hawk and bring the secret of ascension to the changeling. Or he could even just admit that Pullus’s death had been as quick as it was useless in the full scope of things. There was no good answer to the question, so instead he simply spoke from his heart.

  “I got him killed,” Ater said with all the emotion of a corpse. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  He looked up at Kor, whose furious glare would have burned a hole through the dark elf if Kor had had his way. Ater knew what the other elf wanted. He wanted to repeat what he had told them all those years ago when they left—that they would find nothing but death at the end of their journey. Kor looked like he was dying to rub Ater’s face in the fulfillment of his prophecy. Even though it had taken centuries, his words had indeed come true.

  “I told him following you was going to be the death of him,” Kor growled. “I knew you’d corrupt him eventually.”

  Ater felt a fire in his chest begin to burn, a feeling he hadn’t felt since he cried at Pullus’s death. “Your brother was not corrupted nor was he mislead. He came with me because we were in love. Why is that so hard for you to—”

  Kor got up, screaming for Ater to be silent. “What you and my brother shared was not love, not love as it is defined by Koran!” Ater forced himself not to sigh as the other elf continued to rant. “Love is reserved for a man and a woman, so they can between them create the miracle of life! You are an abomination, and you seduced my brother into thinking he was one too!”

  Ater sprang out of the bed, not caring if he was unarmed or not.

  They both tumbled to the ground, as if Kor hadn’t expected Ater to physically attack him. Crushing Kor beneath him, Ater pressed one forearm across the other elf’s neck, pinning and strangling him simultaneously. His snarl was feral enough to cow even Kor. “Call your brother weak-minded one more time and you’ll live out the rest of your days with one arm.”

  Though the majority of his training focused on the mystic arts, Kor was not incapable of defending himself. Practicing the Arts required physical strength on a par with most warriors. He managed to break Ater’s hold and partially pull himself clear. Ater grabbed him by
his beard, and Kor rolled away after kicking the dark elf in the side. Still battling, they rolled out of the bedroom into the main living area. “I’ll call my brother anything I damn well please!” Kor panted.

  Ater threw the other man off of him, and he lurched to his feet. “Prepare to lose an arm,” he threatened, already summoning his blade and raising his hand, palm up to receive it. Half a mile away, hidden in the underbrush outside of Evermore, his blades took flight instantly, making a beeline to his hand.

  Kor wiped the corner of his mouth free of blood and glared at the other elf. “You’ve taken everything I value in my life! What is that when compared to the loss of an arm?”

  He took a half step forward when the wooden door to his house crashed inward and Ater’s sword flew into his hand. He paused as Ater looked at him with a dangerous stare. “I have taken nothing from you.”

  Ignoring the weapon altogether, Kor advanced on him. “My brother, my honor—how can you stand there and claim you’ve done anything less than destroy me?”

  Before the man could respond, a dark gray kingbird flew through the hole in the door and moved between them. Ater watched as the bird grew in size, its plumage becoming a flowing cloak of large black and gray feathers enfolding a strikingly beautiful elven woman. Although she was in elven form, Ater realized, there was no mistaking the sharp avian features in her face.

  Both Kor and Ater went down to one knee instantly.

  “Nystel,” Kor said reverently. “You honor me with—”

  “Shut up, Kor,” she snapped, cutting him off. Her gaze never left Ater. “I’ve never seen a dark elf bow to a disciple of Koran before.”

  Ater refused to look up.

  Seeing he was not going to respond, she glared back to Kor. “You have an armed heathen in your house. And yes, I know you have hidden your weapon, heathen. Don’t play me for a fool. Would you care to explain why?”

  “It is complicated,” Kor answered after a few seconds.

  Nystel’s voice got very cold, very fast. “Then I would suggest you find a simple way of explaining it before you share his punishment.”

  “He is—” Kor began and then choked the words off. “He was family in a way.”

  Ater looked up for a second in shock at the statement.

  “Is, was,” the high priestess mused. “Does this man have any connection to your brother?”

  “He was my—” Ater began to explain.

  “Silence!” Nystel roared and the sound of rolling thunder could be heard outside the house. “I was not speaking to you.”

  Ater stared back at the floor, gritting his teeth in rage.

  “He was bonded with my brother,” Kor explained reluctantly, as if wanting to talk about anything other than Pullus and Ater’s “relationship.”

  “Was?” Nystel asked, arching one perfect eyebrow in question. “Now I am addressing you, dark elf. Explain why you are here.”

  Ater looked up at her, his expression clear of all emotions. “I am here to give him the Right of Revan.”

  Kor gaped up at him, his face pale. “You’re what?”

  Nystel looked deeply into Ater’s eyes. “You are serious. You came here for that.”

  The dark elf knew Nystel’s magic would tell her if he lied, which was good since he wasn’t. “I am here to give him the Right of Revan.”

  She shook her head, seemingly amazed. “Very well, then. That changes things.”

  Kor looked up at her. “Changes what?”

  She returned his stare. “I suppose I won’t kill him, then, since he is giving you the option of doing so.” The statement hung in the air for a few seconds. “You are going to kill him, am I correct?”

  The room was silent as they both waited for him to answer.

  I WAITED in silence for the giant bunny to say something.

  See, waiting for a giant bunny to say something is a thought you’d never believe you’d think, yet when you do, it makes perfect sense. I had told Milo about Puck and how he’d arranged for the Dark to rise up against Hawk’s parents and how he was just playing both sides against each other. I didn’t mention the whole tree of life thing, because I’m pretty sure that was the secret we were all supposed to be keeping.

  The good thing about the secret of the ascension, Hawk had explained, was that it had an enchantment on the seed so that, after some time, you forgot what you had seen. You remembered the whole secret thing but not what it actually was. Ruber and Ferra and the rest might know Hawk had the secret of ascension on him, but they wouldn’t be able to remember what it actually was.

  Turns out I was immune to that spell too.

  I not only remembered the seed, but I remember seeing it back on Earth when Hawk had changed shirts, a fact that was bothering Hawk something awful. Of course, I was the guy who had a telepathic link with his boyfriend, only to find out that his boyfriend was better at telepathy than I am. So, unless I was willing to get into a mental thumb war with him, he could keep facts from me pretty easily. And yeah, that pissed me off something fierce.

  Anyway: big rabbit, waiting for him to talk, things I never thought I’d say for a thousand, Alex.

  “You’re telling the truth,” Milo stated after a rather long time of wiggling his whiskers and smoothing out the front of his vest. “That’s a point in your favor.”

  Hawk took a step toward us. “And what points are against us?”

  Milo’s ears flattened on his head, and he took a half step back. “Try kidnapping a royal page, threatening said page with bodily harm, not to mention hijacking my spell.”

  Ruber’s voice interjected. “That is not a crime.”

  “No, but it’s annoying, so it’s a point against you,” the rabbit growled back.

  “Fair enough,” Ruber answered, retreating some.

  “Will you help us?” I asked Milo, trying to get him back on point.

  “You know the Family Crimson will never help you,” he said to Hawk. “The queen hates your mother with the heat of a thousand suns.”

  “I know my history,” Hawk answered, trying to sound bored, but I could tell from his thoughts that it was a sore subject. “And if I remember correctly, Queen Demain and her forces were stopped dead in their tracks.”

  The rabbit’s eyes got huge, which did nothing to make him look menacing, just even cuter. “And do you think that will somehow endear her to your cause?”

  “Milo, please,” I interrupted, stepping between him and Hawk before there was another fight. “We just need to talk to her. All we’re asking for is a ride, not an endorsement.”

  “Why would you even need to hijack me? There are portals to….” And then he stopped talking. “Your changeling has them all guarded. You don’t need a ride as much as you need a back door in.”

  Hawk said nothing, but his thoughts were dark and angry.

  “Can you help us?” I asked Milo again.

  He raised one eyebrow, which was odd because rabbits don’t really possess eyebrows. He raised the area above one of his eyes, which made me want to laugh.

  “Okay, will you help us?” I put on my best “Please, Dad, I need those shoes or I will literally fall dead and wither away where I stand” voice and prayed for the best.

  “I don’t see how I can,” he replied after some deliberation.

  Hawk’s frustration pushed at the back of my mind, and I knew we were seconds from doing things his way. I closed my eyes and tried not to scream at him and then at the stupid rabbit, because this was getting old.

  I had vaguely understood how incredibly idiotic politics were at home, but ever since I fell into this world, that point was just made clearer and clearer every time I met someone new. How hard was it for someone to just get over itself and see what we were trying to do here? If Puck won, did Milo really think his realm would be safe? Like the bad guy always gained a bunch of power and then said, “Hey, you know what? This is enough. I’m good.”

  Why couldn’t people just get it?

  “I
’ll take you,” Milo’s voice said, breaking me out of my silent tirade.

  I opened my eyes and looked at him, confused. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “This Puck sounds like a horrible person, and I am sure once he has conquered Faerth, he won’t stop until he rules all Nine Realms.”

  It was almost word for word what I had been bitching about.

  “I need to recharge this,” he added, holding up his pocket watch. “There is no way it can carry all of us without a boost.”

  I looked back at Hawk and Ruber; both of them were staring at me oddly. “What?” I asked when it felt like I had something on my face or something.

  Hawk blinked and looked away. “Nothing. What do you need to recharge?” he asked Milo.

  “Time,” he answered. “And I need to be released from this circle.”

  Hawk glanced over toward Ruber. “Do we have any time here?”

  “Not that I am aware of.” Ruber’s voice sounded, strained and I got the sense he was still looking at me.

  “What are you talking about?” Milo’s snapped. “We’re surrounded by it.”

  Hawk and I both looked around at what the rabbit was pointing to, but we saw nothing. “We are?”

  You have not lived until you hear a bunny sigh in exasperation. “Drop the circle, and I’ll show you.”

  Hawk waved his hands, and the glowing runes around Milo vanished.

  “Follow me and learn,” he said to me as he began walking toward one of the bookshelves. I glanced at Hawk and could tell he wanted me to go with Milo in case he was trying to trick us.