Savior (29 page)

“Thomas, noooo….”

Witnessing the severe ramifications that I was left to face as a result of his decision to support the ones who did this made the anger boil inside me. As I felt my fingers start to tighten, I released him, not wanting to damage what was left of someone who held so much promise.

But I wasn’t done. I moved to the next and called upon my healing powers. And when she didn’t respond, I moved to the next.

Jameson and the rest gave me the time I needed, watching from a distance, already resigned to something I refused to believe.

Only when I came to the final victim and stared back at the line of bodies in front of me was I able to put my hopes to rest.

I returned to Jameson’s side, drawn to the sympathy in his eyes, and gave the victims one final look.

That was when I saw them.

Shaking away my confusion, I jutted my head forward and squinted for a better look. I had just been a foot from them; my nose had been no farther than a few inches from their knees. And I had missed it.

“Are those…?” I uttered.

Jameson sighed and attempted to pull my head into his shoulder, to block my view, to preserve my innocence, because he had seen it, too.

Not only had they suffered death…these people had been tortured!

Deep rutted grooves had been carved across their faces and left darkened by sand and blood.

“No, no, no, no, no…,” I spoke under my breath, my head beginning to shake back and forth furiously.

And that was when the tears came, powerful and fast, forcing their way down my cheeks in currents and spilling off my chin. My breathing quickened and my heart sped up, thumping hard against my chest, so hard I thought it might break through.

“They…They….” I struggled but couldn’t finish.

“I know,” Jameson said softly, taking my face in his hands, inspecting me, trying to will his control of emotions to me. Not able to bear it any longer, he forcefully swallowed back his own rage.

“I know,” he said through clenched teeth and then tucked my face into his neck, holding my shivering body against him.

“Ja-Jameson,” I called out, struggling between sobs. “They were interrogated. They were interrogated…for information on us.”

I felt his head move against mine in agreement. He knew. He had probably figured it out well before me.

Then a scuffling noise came from all around us, the shifting of feet against gravel and dirt. I thought Theleo, Eli and his men were making a hasty move. But it made no sense; nor did the trickling of rock down the stairs we had just descended. The noise echoed across the courtyard, causing me to draw back my head.

Instinctively, we looked up in search of the source, but it wasn’t hard to find. Their black uniforms looked like formidable pillars against the faded stone behind them.

Vires, dozens of them, standing shoulder to shoulder, now lined the walls overlooking us.

17  HOPE

The Vires kept their distance, standing motionless and evaluating us curiously as one would a captured animal.

Keeping his voice low, Jameson said to Theleo, “Do you know any of them?”

His response came as a tense grumble. “No.”

Jameson exhaled heavily and I knew he was nervous, and for good reason. We were being detained and there was little possibility we could use logic or bribe our way out of it. Fighting would likely be futile, too. Having kept our group purposefully small - to allow us to enter and leave discreetly - became a severe disadvantage. At least fifty Vires surrounded us.

Jameson slightly tipped his head back to me as he whispered, “Stay with me.”

I dared a response. “I will.”

Hearing movement behind us, we spun toward the corridors leading to the courtyard, the same ones I’d ignored on my way down the stairs. They stretched like fingers into the middle of the village. Bands of light cut through the shadows and illuminated the handful of Vires who now appeared there.

Curiously, they weren’t charging. They marched, slow, methodical, and with purpose, before coming to a stop at the threshold of the courtyard. Once there, they studied us, and yet again, I felt like we were on display.

“Relicuum?” asked the one in front, a tall, lithe woman with short-cropped, blonde hair.

Jameson immediately stepped forward and the woman squinted at him.

“I was told The Relicuum was female.”

“The Relicuum isn’t here,” replied Jameson, flatly. “I speak for her.”

A Vire beside the woman stepped forward to whisper something in her ear, and she listened without reaction. Then she strode across the courtyard alone, directly toward me.

Jameson instantly repositioned himself between us, his body assuming a fighting stance. Theleo, Eli, and his men swiftly moved to form a circle around me.

She ignored them but stopped a few feet back. “Relicuum,” she said fixing her gaze on me, and I knew the person who spoke privately to her had given up my true identity.

I braced myself for whatever assault this Vire had in mind, watching her closely for any sign of movement. When nothing happened, I wondered just what was going on here. 

“It is an honor to meet you,” she stated.

I felt my forehead wrinkle in confusion.

I couldn’t comprehend why she would think to show respect to me or anyone she and her unit was about to butcher.

“We have been waiting for you,” she added.

This I understood. Of course they were waiting…waiting for the lambs to arrive at the slaughter.

I continued to wait, every muscle in my body as taut as Jameson’s. Yet, she didn’t move.

“My name is Commander Fiolka, Jess Fiolka. I am in charge of channelers within Peregrine’s forces.”

None of it made any sense to me until she added, “We are defecting.”

Defecting?
I thought and then absentmindedly repeated it out loud.

“Yes,” she confirmed with the same stoic Vire mannerism I’d come to know.

Stunned into silence, I stared back at her. It was Jameson who responded, rotating his head to the right where Theleo was positioned.

Having developed a friendship, they now understood each other well enough to communicate through gestures and facial expressions. He was apparently asking for Theleo’s analysis of the situation.

He delivered it bluntly. “She would have killed or detained us by now. The fact their moldavite stones are removed is telling as well.”

“Yes, I noticed that, too.” Returning his full attention to the Vire, he asked, “Where are the rest of Peregrine’s forces?”

“Preparing.”

We didn’t need to ask for what. We already knew. For war.

“Clearly not here.”

“The area was evacuated to give you a sense of artificial reassurance.”

“Reassurance was the last thing we felt coming here,” I muttered sarcastically and she stared at me. Her face was emotionless, giving me no hint of what she was thinking. It was this robotic characteristic of Vires I couldn’t seem to get over.

“So that’s why we didn’t meet any resistance when entering,” Jameson speculated to himself, still drawing attention back to him. “And your order was to bring us in? That’s why you stayed behind.”

Before answering, she evaluated him; and simply by this motion, I knew she was trying to determine Jameson’s role.

“He’s The Nobilis,” I stated.

Her eyes widened but just briefly. “An honor,” she replied, robotically. Rank was something Vires must have been taught never to insult because she didn't delay her answer any further.

“We volunteered as sentinels to wait for your arrival and to sequester you below ground.”

“And you volunteered because?” pressed Jameson, ensuring her story didn’t change, that her purpose had remained the same.

“To defect,” she said firmly.

Jameson made his decision and extended a hand to her. “Welcome….”

She stepped closer and her fingers folded around his in a steady grip, just before her eyes widened again in shock.

“Is everything all right?” asked Jameson, concerned.

“My apologies,” she said, with a submissive duck of her head. “Channeling is a challenge to control.”

“What did you see?” he implored.

She seemed hesitant, taking in a glimpse of me, for reasons I didn’t understand until she disclosed what she had picked up on.

“Your love for The Relicuum.”

“Hmm,” mumbled Jameson, the hint of a smile surfacing. “You’ll get used to it.”

His easygoing guarantee sent a flutter through my stomach, but Jameson didn’t notice my reaction. He was turning to look at the Vires who were observing from above. “You wouldn’t happen to know where The Sevens are hidden, would you, Commander?”

“No one knows their location.”

“And anyone named Kalisha? Do you know anything about her or where we can find her?”

She gave Jameson a blank look. “No….”

“All right.” He turned to Theleo. “I think it’s about time we get out of here, but not without them,” he said, gesturing toward the bodies.

Crossing the courtyard, he withdrew a dagger from his cloak, the same one he’d used to slit Peregrine’s throat. He mounted the platform overhead, severing the rope from its anchor, sending the bodies sliding into the arms of Eli's men who waited below.

Returning to my side, Jameson said to Commander Fiolka, “If your absence doesn’t make The Sevens question your defection, the disappearance of these bodies will.”

This was his way of conveying that once we left this place, there would be no turning back, a message that she easily grasped.

“Understood,” she replied, without a hint of remorse as she motioned to those under her command, preparing them for levitation.

Theleo took us into the sky, not bothering to hide the fact we were utilizing his ability in broad daylight. Those who would turn us in were lifted alongside us, so there was less inhibition. Nonetheless, Theleo took us far enough above that we wouldn’t be noticed by anyone but passing planes, and couldn't be reported as anything more than unidentified flying objects. I wondered just how many of those incidents were actually caused by people in our world.

Glancing back, I found a black swarm, their clothes lightly rippling against the slight wind Theleo was unable to divert from our path. The only one not with them was Commander Fiolka.

Theleo positioned her beside him as they discussed arrangements at the village before we arrived.

Interestingly, I overheard her mention with a reverence almost equal to Jameson and me, “I’ve been a fan of your ability for some time, Theleo.” And it made me proud, and relieved, once again, that someone with fighting skills as notable as his was on our side.

Theleo settled Jameson and me in front of his door and, out of caution, took the rest of the defectors back toward his outpost. A large number of them landing in the village - especially carrying bodies - would definitely cause alarm, which Theleo had obviously predicted.

Strangely, there seemed to be some kind of urgency already flowing through the village, which Jameson and I discovered as we stared across at the people moving madly down the makeshift planks. It was their hurried pace that told us something was off, and then I saw that they were carrying boxes and tubs.

“What the…,” Jameson mumbled while assessing the chaos.

“Are they leaving?”

His jaw dropped open, before replying, “I think more are coming.”

Sure enough, boats tied to docks along the waterway were being unloaded. Bags, boxes, and luggage were being stacked on the edge of docks as we studied the situation.

“Maybe you’ve gotten through to them?” I suggested. “Maybe they’ve finally faced the truth about the danger they’re in.”

“But why now? What changed their minds so quickly?”

That was a good question. It wasn’t one family that arrived. It looked like a small city.

“Is that…?” Jameson muttered, his eyebrows furrowing and his head angled in the direction of his parent’s shack.

The woman standing beside his parents was someone neither of us expected to see. Wearing her familiar ankle-length, black and yellow patterned dress, with her head wrapped in a traditional scarf, Ms. Veilleux stood out like a cloud in a clear sky.

“You don’t think she’s delivering homework,” he mused. “Not with all this going on.” He motioned to the turmoil around us.

“Oh, I think we’re about to find out,” I replied, as Ms. Veilleux and his parents caught us watching.

Without hesitating, they slipped into a boat and headed directly for us.

They had to dodge several others on the waterway, including a raft weighed down so heavily with belongings that water was spilling onto it from two sides, but they did reach us, with a grave expression on each of their faces.

“Ms. Veilleux,” said Jameson stiff but cordial, as if he was greeting her in class.

“Jameson…Jocelyn,” she replied, climbing to meet us.

“Do any of you know what all this is about?” he asked, shrugging.

There was no reason to be more specific. They knew what he meant because none of us had ever seen the village in its current condition.

“The Sevens didn’t stop with the execution,” Mrs. Caldwell explained. “Their Vires have been moving through our world – very likely since you last saw them – and destroying everything in their path.”

“Like locusts,” added Mr. Caldwell, offering a disturbing description.

“Homes, stores, schools…no one and nothing is safe,” Mrs. Caldwell said in summation.

Then Ms. Veilleux delivered the most shocking news.

“The school is gone.”

“Entirely?”

“Yes,” she replied, her tanned face turning a sickly white. It was the face of a woman who had worked her entire life to build something of value and saw it collapse before her eyes in a matter of minutes.

Jameson’s logical side stepped in. “We need a school here. Would you consider running it?”

The glimmer of hope and resilience gradually returned to her directly before our eyes as she grasped what Jameson was offering. The school may be gone but there was a new future taking hold, one that she could be a part of. Once able to speak beyond the swell of joy in her, she gave him a firm nod. “Yes.”