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Authors: Joshua Winning

Ruins (30 page)

BOOK: Ruins
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Nicholas slowly got to his feet, not believing what he was hearing. Laurent was letting them go? At Nicholas’s distrustful expression, Laurent merely nodded and Nicholas traipsed over to Sam, careful not to turn his back on the Harvesters and their leader.

“You can’t–” began one of the Harvesters holding Sam. Laurent raised an eyebrow and Sam was shoved into Nicholas’s arms.

“Nicholas–” the old man began, his watery gaze meeting Nicholas’s.

He couldn’t say anything. He shouldered Sam’s weight and began to make his way to the front of the stage, but a tall Harvester stepped into his path. Nicholas bumped into him and the Harvester pushed him roughly to the side. He almost stumbled over, but caught himself, steadying Sam beside him. Undeterred, he tried again, but the Harvester with the talon ring blocked his way.

The Harvester hissed at him. A low hiss that never ended. It was taken up by the others.

Laurent’s laugh rolled up into the rocky ceiling and Nicholas shot him a look. He was still toying with them. Laurent wasn’t letting them go.

The talon-wearing Harvester shoved his shoulder and Nicholas stepped back, steadied himself. He clenched his fist, fresh anger rising.

“Sam,” he said.

At the sound of his name, the old man emerged from his torpor. The renewed danger seemed to have jolted him back into the present, made him momentarily forget the awful truth that had been revealed.

“Nicholas,” he said, grabbing Nicholas’s arm and pushing him behind him. “Stay back.”

“No,” Nicholas said, attempting to get around him, but Sam wouldn’t have any of it. He squared up to the tightening pool of Harvesters, keeping Nicholas behind him.

“My bag,” the old man whispered over his shoulder. “Where’s my bag?”

Nicholas couldn’t remember. The struggle in the tunnel had been so confused; he couldn’t even recall being dragged to the stage. The pain in his arm had been so debilitating.

“Slash them, cut them, kill them,” the Harvesters spat, slashing their blades through the air.

“BOY!”

A new voice entered the chamber and Nicholas’s insides leapt. He scanned the Harvesters, not trusting his own ears. But then he saw her.

A black shape streaked through the chamber, using the Harvesters as stepping stones. The cat leapt from a head to a shoulder, moving so swiftly that the Harvesters didn’t have time to react until it was too late. Finally, the cat had crossed the entire chamber and landed on the stage.

“Isabel,” Nicholas uttered in disbelief.

The cat prowled in front of him, hissing at the Harvesters encircling them.

“You’re alive,” Nicholas said, still unable to believe it.

“Back!” the cat hissed at the Harvesters. “Back you brutes!”

The Harvesters looked down at her in confusion. Then one of them laughed. The laugh was taken up by the others and the cramped space rocked with the sound.

Laurent opened his mouth to speak, but a blinding flash lit the chamber and the ground shook. The laughing ceased abruptly.

Nicholas held on to Sam. Was this another of Laurent’s tricks? The light seemed to have come from the entrance to the chamber. All heads pivoted in that direction and for a moment, Nicholas imagined he saw smoke. With a start, he realised he wasn’t imagining it. Thick smoke spewed into the cavern. A small object sailed through the air and struck the floor.

Another flash blinded him and the Harvesters were engulfed in smoke.

“What’s happening?” Nicholas coughed, his vision clearing. “Isabel?”

The cat flattened herself to the floor, apparently as surprised as he was.

“Cavalry,” Sam murmured hopefully.

A startled cry sounded somewhere in the smoke. The Harvesters stared about in confusion and figures toppled, wrenched by some invisible force, surrendering to the smoke.

No, not the smoke. Something in it.

Nicholas frowned. He thought he saw something moving in the vapour. The shadow of a dog. An impossibly large dog. It flickered and vanished before reappearing in a different place, jaws snapping, drawing blood.

Screams and angry yells littered the cavern.

More figures rippled through the smoke. Their faces were obscured by breathing apparatus and they wielded swords, which they used to slash at the Harvesters.

Rae.

Nicholas searched about for her, but both Rae and Laurent had vanished.

The smoke curled up around him and he coughed. Sam pushed him back, away from the all-consuming cloud, away from the Harvesters. He attempted to resist. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“Sam–” he began.

The edge of his vision blurred. He couldn’t see through the smoke.

Sam stumbled and they both fell to the floor.

Nicholas looked up as an enormous man loomed through the smoke. A breathing mask concealed most of his face, but not his massive shoulders.

Lash?
Nicholas thought, wondering what Jessica’s bodyguard was doing here.
No, not Lash. Somebody else.

The man reached down and pressed something to his face.

“Breathe,” a deep voice rumbled.

Nicholas gasped in a breath of clean air, finally able to see properly. He watched as the man fitted Sam with the same apparatus. Sam blinked and drew in lungfuls of air.

Without another word, the stranger lifted them both to their feet as if they weighed nothing and shrugged at them to follow.

Nicholas grabbed a hold of Sam and together they staggered after. He felt a weight at his shoulder as Isabel joined them.

“Swiftly,” the cat hissed. “Move.”

Her presence spurred him on, inspired a warm swell of hope. Through the curtains of smoke, he saw fallen Harvesters everywhere, bloodied and beaten.

A number of figures emerged from the smoke. About five, Nicholas guessed. One of them, a woman with braided hair who wore the same breathing apparatus and carried a dagger, kept step with them.

With a start he realised it was Liberty.

“Sam,” she said. The giant dog that Nicholas had glimpsed cantered alongside her, panting.

“Liberty,” Sam replied. “Your timing is impeccable, as always.”

“Want to get out of here?” she asked, winking at Nicholas. She swiped an object from the floor and handed it to Sam. His fedora. Pushing his satchel into his hands, too, Liberty led them back through the tunnels. The air was clearer here but Nicholas still felt light-headed, as if he was only half awake. They went down a part of the tunnels he didn’t remember, the battle cries receding into the distance behind them, and climbed a short ladder.

Liberty pushed open a circular manhole in the ceiling. She disappeared through it. Sam went next, then Isabel.

Nicholas clambered up through the hole, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder, and was surprised to find himself crawling onto grassy ground. He tugged the breathing apparatus free and got to his feet.

The ruins towered above them and the trees rustled.

They were in the Abbey Gardens.

The mountainous man who had saved them lifted the dog through the hole and then climbed up into the moonlight. He was even more imposing out in the open. He pulled the breathing apparatus off, shaking out his shaggy brown hair. The dog, which came up to his waist, nuzzled his hand.

More figures emerged from the hole and Nicholas realised that Aileen had done what Sam had asked; she had gathered together as many local Sentinels as she could. Silently, Nicholas thanked her.

Liberty nudged the manhole closed with a dull THUNK.

“Let’s get you back to Aileen’s,” she said.

 

*

 

It didn’t take long to reach the safehouse. The seven newcomers surrounded Nicholas and Sam the whole way back, some going ahead to check the way was clear, others hanging behind to ensure nobody followed them. Nicholas found it fascinating watching the Sentinels in action. It took his mind off what he’d learned in Laurent’s hellish warren.

Isabel was a comfort; something Nicholas had never thought possible. She perched on his shoulder, her tail hugging his neck, and for a brief moment it felt like the world wasn’t about to end.

When they reached Aileen’s, the landlady showed them all into the living room and brought warm cloths so they could clean themselves up. She didn’t say anything about the dog, though Nicholas glimpsed a grumbling tabby blur as Rudy darted toward the kitchen.

Isabel hopped onto the windowsill as Nicholas mopped at his face. The cloth came away stained red with Esmerelda’s blood.

The thought of her lying next to him on the ground made his insides convulse.

My parents
, he thought.

He shoved that thought away as well, attempted to crumple it in his mind as if it were a bit of paper.

“What happened to you?” he asked the cat. “How did you end up down there?” Like everybody else, Isabel looked like she’d been sleeping rough for the past few days. Her fur was matted in places and she was scrawnier than usual. Her eyes remained sharp as ever, though.

“I was consigned to that wretched warren,” the cat replied.

“You’re not hurt, though?”

“I am well enough. But look at you.” She scrutinised his cast. “You can’t be trusted on your own, can you?”

“It’s good to have you back,” he said softly.

Sam sat on the other side of the room. He looked exhausted. Even the subdued lamp light couldn’t hide his drawn expression, nor the way his limbs seemed to weigh him down. He reclined in the chair and Nicholas noticed Liberty shoot him a worried look.

The other Sentinels stood about wiping the grit and blood from their faces and hands. Two women and four men, counting the giant who had helped him and Sam.

“That’s what I call action,” one of them joked. He was skinny, about the same age as Nicholas, and had floppy blond hair. Nicholas noticed a tattoo of a winged devil on his arm.

“Merlyn,” Sam sighed.

Funny name
, Nicholas thought.

“Sorry we got to the party so late,” Merlyn said, winking at Nicholas. His grin was warm and lopsided. Nicholas couldn’t help liking him. “Liberty here wanted to wait.”

Liberty merely looked at the youngster.

“It’s difficult to sense anything from above ground,” she said, putting her cloth on the tray Aileen had left on the coffee table.

“Sense schmense,” Merlyn shot back. “We almost didn’t make it in time.”

“I’m very grateful for your assistance,” Sam said. His voice scratched tiredly and it silenced everybody in the room. “I hadn’t anticipated quite so many. Nor so well-armed.” He contemplated the fedora resting on his knee.

Nicholas was sure Sam was avoiding his gaze on purpose.

“I suppose introductions would be a good idea,” Liberty said. She went round the room one by one. “Ginger, Frank, Steph,” she said of the three people by the fireplace. “They’re all Waddells. Bury born and bred. Obviously you know Merlyn. And that’s Harry,” she said of a dark-skinned man in his forties who had an earring. Finally she looked at the tall man who had rescued them in the cavern. “And this is Nale,” she said. “Benjamin Nale. The mutt’s Zeus.”

Nale merely nodded at them and then began inspecting the dog for injuries. It was almost as big as he was – a shaggy grey titan. Zeus was the perfect name.

“My head’s pounding, too.” Merlyn grinned at Nicholas, his cheeks glowing rosily. Nicholas realised he was staring and glanced at Sam. The old man looked how Nicholas felt. Numb. As if he was underwater. He couldn’t process what Laurent had said in the cavern. He didn’t
want
to process it; not if it was true.

Finally, Sam told the other Sentinels their story. It was nothing new to Nicholas; he’d lived it. His ears perked up, though, when Sam started talking about somebody called Thomas Gray. The man who invented the gauntlet.

“We believe that Laurent isn’t working alone; he has Malika with him,” Sam finished. “Diltraa’s Familiar. And his plan to raise the Prophets appears to be predicated on the young girl he currently has in his company.”

“Rae,” Nicholas said, though he hadn’t meant to speak.

Everybody looked at him. He shivered, recalling the way the Harvesters’ eyes had swivelled at him in the tunnels, but no hatred was being directed at him this time.

“This is Nicholas Hallow,” Sam said, still not looking at him.

Not my parents.

Who were the people who had raised him if they weren’t his parents?

His stomach rolled unpleasantly and Nicholas swallowed, refusing to give in to it. He forced himself to look at the other Sentinels. They gazed back with varying degrees of pity, sadness and understanding. They must have known his parents, or at least that Sentinels by the name of Hallow had died in a train crash. They were probably unaware that Jessica and Esus considered him special. All they saw was a young, battle-tired Sentinel whose parents had been taken too soon.

BOOK: Ruins
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