The Spark (46 page)

‘But it is not all about strength, don’t get me wrong.” Merrick continued as a tower collapsed on itself. “We are building a future for Wynne; a unified future where poverty does not exist.”

“By using the dead as enforcers?” Julien asked. A loud cracking filled the night air as the roof began to cave over the grand gallery.

“A wonderful invention of our glorious leader, yes?” Merrick smiled. “When the world is full of blind fools, one must find a means of defeating his foe in every way possible.”

“How do you mean?” Julien sighed. He was exhausted from his brief battle and did not care for the ramblings of a mad man.

“First, you learn his secrets.” Merrick motioned to Rosemary. “Learn where the foe is weak, what will break him.”

“Rosemary?” Julien looked at the woman he had cared for. “You are in league with them?”

“Julien, I…” A man slapped her across the face.

“Ser, you must remember the rules.” Merrick tsked. “We do not speak to the lady. But to answer your question, yes, Rosemary has been aiding us for quite sometime. She has fed us with rather useful information about you, the kinetics, Valvius and the other provinces. We have learned how best to hurt our foes. Though, in the lady’s defense, she did not do it willingly.”

‘Once we learned everyone’s soft spots, we then worked on demoralizing the provinces.” Merrick reached into his pocket and retrieved a cigarette. He took a match and lit it against the rough wooden guardrail of the ship. “Lovely weather isn’t it?” He smiled as he lit his smoke, tossing the match over the side.

“You are behind the adverse weather afflicting Wynne?” The sick realization hit Julien like a ton of bricks. It all made sense. The drought in Valvius, the snows in Gossac and continual rains of Pozo had all been a part of this Order’s plan; this Order desired to break their quarry before the outbreak of war.

“I see you are a smart one,” Merrick teased. “Must be why the council respected you so. But yes, this,” he indicated to the falling flakes of snow. “Is our doing.”

“Then you began your rein of terror against Valvian people all over Wynne.” Julien stated, putting it all together. “To further weaken their resolve.”

“My, my. Perhaps too smart.” Merrick tsked again. “Yes, you are right. And when the time was right, we brought war to Wynne. With the combined might of the Imperial Order and our allies, both living and dead, we will bring about the changes our glorious leader desires.”

“Garius Syrah?” Julien asked.

“Yes.” The young man agreed. “He mentioned in a telegram you might have put the pieces together. He has a message for you.”

“Is that so?” Julien slid his lenses back up his nose.

“Aye.” Merrick turned to rest his weight on his elbow against the edge of the airship. “He says; told you I would make them pay.”

“Of course.” Julien said.

“But, enough of this. I have something to show you.” Merrick pushed away from the guardrail and gave a sharp whistle.

Suddenly, the canon fire ceased. The school below was battered and many sections of wall were blown wide open. Below, the shambling undead legion filtered into the Garden D’Lune. Julien noted that none of the constructs gave pursuit.

“Our glorious leader does have another gift for you.” Merrick said as a group of men came forward with a chest. “He says he has been saving it for a long time.”

Julien’s heart broke when the lid was opened, revealing a dozen skulls. Each of the grizzly trophies was about the size of a young adult.

“He says this should give you some closure to an age old mystery.” Merrick said.

“Your leader knows I knew it was he all those years ago.” Julien said. “I told him as much then.”

“Aye, he said you would say that.” Merrick dragged the chest to the edge of the deck and hoisted it onto the railing. “He says it is to give you closure knowing you had found the pupils he had taken. Now,” Merrick shoved the chest of skulls over the edge into the abyss. “They are returned to their bodies.”

“You are a cruel man.” Julien said through gritted teeth. “Those should have been returned to their kin.”

“You talk too much,” Merrick waved a hand in annoyance. “I do have a final gift from our glorious leader.” The young man reached to the side of the railing and fumbled with a latch. The protective wall blew open as the boarding door swung on its hinges. “Come, look.”

A pair of rough hands grabbed the old kinetic from behind. They shoved his head out over the dark night, looking over the destruction below. Julien noted the number of cadavers was smaller than he initially thought, and many were in a terribly, broken state.

“Our dear friend Zehr, had been tasked with a duty to prepare for this night.” Merrick sniffed as snot threatened to fall out of his nose. “It was meant for both you and our glorious leader, however, there was an incident that has prevented him from joining us tonight. So the show is all for you.”

At the signal of another sharp whistle, the airships released a bombardment of kinetically imbued canon fire into the grand gallery. After two volleys, Julien could hear the faint sound of a roaring fire. Though, this fire sounded wild and out of control. With a sudden blast, the roof of the college blew out into the night’s sky, sending wood and shingling high into the air. Below, a chain reaction of perfectly placed explosives brought the college of kinetics tumbling down.

Julien didn’t know how to feel. So much had come to pass in such a short time. The one place he had always felt safe and secure was now being brought to ruin by the deceit of countless people, including the woman he had cared for. There was anger, sadness, and confusion swirling in his ancient mind as he hung out over the night, watching the college burn.

“What now?” Julien asked, trying his hardest to keep his lenses on his face.

“Now?” Merrick asked, seemingly confused.

“Yes.” The old kinetic said. “You have destroyed the college. You have your war. What now?”

“That is easy,” the young man said. “But none of it concerns you.”

Suddenly, the solid deck went out from under him. Cold wind slapped his face, ripping his lenses from his face; the howling wind in his ears deafened the old man to the sound of the blasts and fires below. He knew he raced to meet Del Morte. There was no denying it. He had learned all the truths he had sought in these few months, there was nothing left for Julien in Wynne. Yet he was not ready, not like this.

Using what little strength he could muster, he turned his body so he could look up at the quickly receding airship. Rosemary’s screams issued from the deck amongst the bawdy laughter of the men of the Imperial Order. Summoning all his might, Julien DiMarco focused his last bit of energy into setting a blaze. Through the confusion of free falling to the snow covered ground below, and the lack of lenses to support his vision, the old kinetic could not discern where his final gout of flame went. All he could do was smile with contentment as the satisfying crack of wood rupturing filled the air. Terrified screams of men joined the destructive ambiance of the night as Julien’s final bout of fire tore the vessel in half.

Only then was Julien DiMarco, the former headmaster of the college of kinetics, and most revered member of the Council of Wynne, able to accept the fate he now rushed towards.

About the Author

H.G.Howell was born and raised in London, Ontario, where he currently resides with his loving family. He studied journalism at Niagara College. This is his first published work.