Shield and Crocus (18 page)

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Authors: Michael R. Underwood

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BOOK: Shield and Crocus
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I leapt feet-first into the guards, knocking two of them over as they clawed at their eyes. One of the guards kept her calm, shouting, “Draw your knives, they’re here!”

She was the first to go, as I scrambled forward over the two downed guards to shut her up. Either she was the officer, and would have the keys, or should have been, and needed to be silenced anyway.

I shoved a tall gangly guard into the rails to clear space. He caught a hand on the rail as he flipped over the side. Good enough. I feinted a straight thrust, provoking her to dodge left, and then twisted the thrust into a cut that caught her across the shoulder, blade slicing through layers of scarves and loose-fit clothes. I twisted the blade to slide it in below her collarbone. She slumped to the floor and I removed my knife.

Around me, Red Vixen tore apart the other guards in a captivatingly brutal dance. She took a club-blow to the back and kept going. The Millrej was favoring her right side by then, from the earlier wounds.

The gangly guard that I’d written off tried to pull himself back over the side. I gave him a helping hand, right into the far wall, then slammed him to the ground. He had wisdom enough to pass out, or at least fake it.

I looked around, checked for other guard stations. They were all empty. I scanned the pens, and the same woman caught my eye again, looking expectantly.

Ghost Hands’ voice filled my mind, relief heavy in her words.
[The heart is gone. We’re coming to you.]

“That’s our signal.” I reached down and pulled another set of keys from the belt of the female leader, adding it to those I’d liberated from the other guards. “Now let’s hope we can get them out without too much of a riot.”

It started with an unrestrained shout, like someone out in the open after having been shut up inside for too long. Then others joined it. Shouted curses, cries of surprise, disbelief.

The leash had been cut. I strode down the walkway leading to the cages, holding up the keys and cupped my other hand to my face, extending my voice as far as I could.

“I am First Sentinel, Shield of Audec-Hal and sworn enemy of Medai Omez, the man who made you to be slaves. He used the Blue Heart because he knew you were too strong to be controlled otherwise. We are here to help you, to free you from this monstrous captivity.”

More rustling, shouts from above and all around. I reached the corner of the cages, opened the door, and walked into the narrow passageway between the pens, where the guards led the Freithin to and from their work. I handed over a batch of keys to Red Vixen and began to open cells, shouting all the while.

“We neither expect nor demand anything of you. As of this moment, each one of you is as free as my companions or me.”

An older Freithin man met me at the door, two thin threads connecting with my heart—white hope and yellow fear. I wouldn’t know what to think of me, had I been in his place. I unlocked the cell and moved on.

“But while the tyrants still hold the reins of power, no one in Audec-Hal is truly free. Medai Omez’s factories, COBALT-2’s sick experiments, the Smiling King’s Spark-touched, Magister Yema’s Warlock Guard, and Nevri’s economic stranglehold. Each of the five tyrants tries to make slaves of the people of the city, but we will not let them. That is not how the history of this city will be written. One day, the children of this city will learn of this time as a dark moment that was swept away by righteous people of Audec-Hal.”

I opened more gates, watched shaking young men pacing in their cages, seething with anger, older Freithin hunched in their cells with scars crisscrossing their backs like a dense woven net. I saw the threads in the room shifting, bright colors of hope and anger flourishing while those of fear and obedience faded.

“The Shields of Audec-Hal are working towards a future that will have no tyrants, no slaves. Instead, we will return to being a city of equals, governed by peers who make choices in the best interests of the city as a whole. We wish to see the Senate reborn, and for Audec-Hal to shake itself from this decades-long nightmare.”

In another cage, there was a mother and a suckling babe. The mother stood back from the door as I opened it. I swung the door inward and extended a hand.

“Come with us and we will help you get out of this building, find safe haven to hide from Medai Omez while he rages over his loss. If we could, we would lead an uprising right now to storm Medai’s castle and cast him down, but we would need your help.” The mother held her baby away from me, but walked towards the door as I moved on to the next cell.

“If you come with us, we can feed and shelter you, let you gather your strength to strike back later. The choices are yours; we are only here to help, to give back the power that is rightly yours. Each of you who join will bring the reign of the tyrants that much closer to an end.”

I looked inside the next cell. It was her. The one among the Freithin who had watched me before the Blue Heart was destroyed.

“Medai made you to be slaves, but you don’t have to be. I’ve seen great courage in the eyes of Freithin, wisdom and strength. I do not accept their claim over you. Your destiny is in your hands now.”

She nodded, walking toward the door as I opened it. She extended a massive hand, and we shook.

“Thank you, First Sentinel,” she said. “I am Rova Remembers, and I would fight alongside you and your Shields.”

I’d heard a little about Freithin naming conventions. Not allowed to take family names the way others races did—those who did were publicly beaten—the Freithin had created a tradition of taking role-names, Remembers, Watches, Protects, and so on.

“Thank you, Rova Remembers.” I returned the handshake and felt like a boy again, my small hand dwarfed by hers. “I would be honored if you would join the Shield-bearers, our invaluable group of supporters.”

“I will bear your shield, and become one myself. I’ve looked after others since I was old enough to guard my little brother. And I have a debt to settle with Omez.”

From the energy I saw in her eyes and the strong shine of her threads—emerald and brass and white, I was fairly sure that Rova would become a full Shield, not just a Shield-bearer. A full-grown Freithin as a Shield of Audec-Hal. My mind reeled at the possibilities, already planning.

“Find me once we’re out of the area, away from Omez’s guards, and we can talk more.”

Aegis and the others arrived in the room; I distributed the rest of the keys. We opened the cages, Red Vixen and Ghost Hands on watch for the rest of the guards. I kept moving to make sure I didn’t collapse. Medai’s alarms brought wave after wave of guards, but we weren’t five Shields anymore. We were five amidst a sea of Freithin, their red threads lashing out for anyone bearing Medai’s colors or badge.

Dozens more guards flooded the room, seeking to stem the tide of blue bodies, but we could not be stopped that night. There was no charge to Medai’s palace, as much as it saddened me. Aegis had the right of it when she told us, “One victory is enough for the night, especially a victory this monumental.”

That had elicited a smile from me. She’s starting to get it. I just hope she lives long enough to come into her full potential.

By the time the night was over, the building was in ruins, the cages shattered into a surreal jungle-gym several stories tall. Thousands of Freithin had broken into smaller groups, heading out to safehouses and the homes of Shield-bearers. We’d spent months preparing the space but it’d be months more before we could get them settled into homes in other districts, outside of Medai’s domain.

We hoped that the other tyrants would rejoice at Medai’s loss and refuse to help him reclaim the errant Freithin. Leaving them free would mean more heads for them to tax and cheap (but not free) labor for their industry. In this city, one thing you could always count on was the tyrants’ greed.

Three thousand more taxpayers were out in the city now, and hopefully, some fraction of them would become Shield-bearers, maybe even a Shield or two. The city was one step closer to being free.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
First Sentinel

For several moments, the steady rhythm of turning wheels was the only sound in the train. Nevri regarded the Shields with an inscrutable smile. First Sentinel was very aware of the four Freithin looming tall in the train-car.

Let’s see if we can’t get some more information before I rid the city of the woman responsible for its fall.

According to Ghost Hands, Sapphire and Blurred Fists stood ready in the car behind them. Ghost Hands herself and Sabreslate were waiting at the checkpoint ahead.
We’re as prepared as we can be. It’s time to see who has the better contingency plan.

First Sentinel started in on the gangster, trying to moderate his tone. He failed. “I think you forgot to mention something about the explosive you gave us. A Soulburner?”

Her face didn’t so much as twitch. “Oh, that. You’re welcome. After all, it was the only thing guaranteed to destroy the Rebirth engine. And according to my records, that neighborhood gives your group a lot of trouble. Highest rate of Spark-storms, highest incidence of Spark-touched converted to the Smiling King’s army. Consider it a bonus for services rendered.”

Leaning forward his seat, First Sentinel gave her the same look that had broken the resolve of a thousand criminals. “Your ‘bonus’ cost hundreds of lives.”

Nevri leaned back—only a finger’s span—but for First Sentinel, every bit of it was delicious. He saw flecks of yellow fear appear in the coppery-red thread tying her heart to his own.
I’m getting to her.
he restrained the urge to recite the names of his dead friends, shove the names of the dead in her face. But he had to wait just a little longer. The checkpoint was coming soon. It would have been impossible to secret all six of them into the train at once. But this way, they’d all be there to see Nevri’s end.

Nevri lifted a briefcase to her lap. “Despite your refusal to follow the schedule, I intend to hold up my end of the bargain,” she said, changing the subject. First Sentinel suspected that the money might be booby-trapped, but didn’t care. His eyes never left the Plutocrat.

First Sentinel leaned forward, going through the motions to take the briefcase at her feet.
Not long, now.

She held up the suitcase, her hands full and her attention down on the lock.

They weren’t to the checkpoint yet. Another minute.

It has to be now. There may never be a better moment.

First Sentinel leapt across the gap and closed his hands around her throat. His face went wild, eyes burning with fury as he squeezed her windpipe closed with his shock gloves. Aegis intercepted two of the guards as they closed on the pair. First Sentinel’s bracelet glowed with alarm and he heard the rear door break open.
That’ll be Sapphire.
his backup would be in here in an instant, and then it would be four Shields against four Freithin thugs and one helpless tyrant.

First Sentinel growled, “You won’t get away this time. Not like you got away with your gang’s crime sprees, not like you got away with buying yourself a Senate seat, not like you got away with burning the Senate house down and seizing the city and inviting monsters into my home.

“Not. This. Time.”

And then, a dozen illusions dropped at once. The train-car filled with bodyguards of all races.

Still not enough. City Mother, give me the strength to destroy the woman who corrupted your legacy. Let me avenge you, even if it be the last thing I do.

A thick hand grabbed First Sentinel’s arm, ripping him away from Nevri. First Sentinel lashed out with his foot, aiming for his assailant’s knee. The kneecap shattered, and First Sentinel reasserted his hold, pressing harder. The gangster tore at his grip, but she’d never been a physical contender. She had
people
for that.

First Sentinel rocked forward into a head butt, ramming his forehead into Nevri’s nose. Dazed, her pawing stopped for a moment. He glanced side to side to read the scene.

A Qava raised a hand toward him. First Sentinel pulled the stunned Nevri off her seat and they dropped to the floor. He felt her still breathing, but barely.

The telekinetic blast went over his head, ripping the train-car door off its hinges. There was a cry of pain from outside, and then the door disappeared to one side as Sapphire finished squeezing her way into the car. Air rushed in, pulling at his coat.

Sapphire grabbed the kneecapped attacker and threw him head-first through the rear wall of the train-car. She was a whirlwind of destruction let loose on the subway. First Sentinel crawled toward the Freithin, still holding his grip on the gangster-tyrant, who had started fighting again, kicking out at him with stiletto heels. He crawled to Sapphire’s feet as she jumped over him, tackling two of Nevri’s Freithin bodyguards. Aegis was being buried beneath a pile of bodyguards, but he kept them off of First Sentinel and his objective.

Just a little longer,
he pleaded. He could feel Sabreslate and Ghost Hands with them, too, and Blurred Fists’ hands hammering away somewhere behind him. They were all here, all witness to her end.

Sapphire caught a sprinting Pronai across the neck with a clothesline, sending him spinning up and into a vertical pole. She hit a Qava over the head with an elbow, and First Sentinel heard something crack.

Blurred Fists had already snuck his way in, dodging between the bodies until he was intercepted by two other Pronai. They chased one another around the train-car through the tiny amounts of space not occupied by fighting bodies. The train-car went red from spattered blood and blurred motion.

First Sentinel took several stray shots, to the head, ribs, and hips, several incidental and one heavy. One of Nevri’s guards stomped down on his right heel and he felt the ligaments tear and snap as his foot hyper-extended.

He screamed the name of dead friends, letting out the rage and the pain. He curled his foot up instinctively, but kept squeezing, continuing his litany, all the lives Nevri had snuffed out to get to him.

Nevri was out, but not gone.

Hold on, old man. Don’t stop now.

Another shot to the head and his vision exploded. But he didn’t have to see, just feel. He didn’t need to see to know his knuckles had gone white. They twitched, the muscles spasming and threatening to give way, quit before the job was done.

A dull blow to the shoulder sent him end over end and the two slammed into the base of a seat. But First Sentinel didn’t let go, not until someone kicked him in the solar plexus with a steel-tipped boot.

He sprawled, gasping.
Damnable. Weak old man, can’t even do this one thing.
Through strained eyes, First Sentinel saw a blue fist incoming. Decades-trained reflexes pulled him to the side and the fist glanced off his temple. First Sentinel raised his arms to defend, keeping his hip braced against Nevri for reference. He tried to sit up, but pain in his hip dropped him to the ground.

First Sentinel was two men at once as he fought. One was Wonlar Gonyu Pacsa: the beaten and broken old man, barely able to move; the other was First Sentinel: the veteran hero, acting on trained reflexes and refined instinct. The part of him that was First Sentinel kept old Man Wonlar alive and he continued fighting.
End this now.

First Sentinel grabbed the boot as it came down again, and twisted, pulling the attacker off their feet. The booted attacker and the Shield were a jumble, scrambling on the train-car floor. First Sentinel held one hand up with a shock glove to defend while the other slipped into a leather pouch.

His voice called out, “white on one!” First Sentinel popped the flash-stone a moment later, hoping his team had reacted fast enough. He closed his eyes, but was still blinded by the point-blank visual overload.

Satisfied that the flash-stone would incapacitate the booted guard, First Sentinel flipped around on his side, lading on his bad hip and screaming as he searched for Nevri’s neck
. Seat, wall, shoulder, there.
his hands found purchase, but didn’t feel a pulse.
Nothing
. He held his hands in place for another half-minute, continuing pressure, but there was no pulse against his hand.

It’s done. The first tyrant to rise is the first to fall and it’s all worth it.
he could die now and go happily to the arms of the City Mother.

First Sentinel’s sight returned. Nevri’s lifeless body slumped in the corner of the train-car as the train rolled on somewhere south of collar’s corner. Before he could stand, he took another shot to the ribs and pain broke his reverie. The veteran part of him kept fighting, lashing out with his good foot and pushing the assailant back.

“Fade!” First Sentinel croaked, giving the order to retreat. The train-car emptied in an instant. Blurred Fists was gone as soon as he spoke. Sapphire grabbed two Freithin guards, kicked open a door and dragged the three of them out of the train-car into the open air above the city.

First Sentinel pulled himself to the open doorway, looking to the skyline outside. He had strength enough left to bring up the grappling gun and land a line. Then Aegis was with him, wrapping his arms around the old Shield. The two of them rolled off the side of the narrow platform between the train-cars and dropped to the end of the rope as gracefully as a toddler falling on his face.

First Sentinel wrestled with his son to be on the bottom, and his legs dragged on the street as they landed, tearing his pants and painting the streets with streaks of orange blood.

He recalled the grappling line and rolled a dozen times across the street, losing hold of Aegis.

Pain swallowed him as he stopped; overwhelming the push adrenaline had given him. He laid on the street a broken pile of bone and muscle. The gray sky darkened to black and he felt the end coming on.

It was worth it. City Mother, watch over my son, and he will watch over You.

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