The Forgotten City (23 page)

Eli looked back and startled away several paces. A full-sized image of a man had opened up. He had shoulder-length black hair, a narrow, hard face, and orange-black eyes with slit pupils like a dragon. They were void of all feeling. A long, thin dagger was growing out of the man’s arm, marked with the firebird dragon bloodline. Eli immediately recognized him from the attack.

“This was the man!” he said to Ismail. “He took Silho. He was choking her.”

Ismail strode over and stood eye to eye with the image of the Omarian man. “Lecivion,” he snarled, and Eli saw him switch out of soldier mode. Anger, hate and sadness flooded his eyes all at once and his lips curled back around sharp incisors. “You know him?” Eli asked, feeling a spark of hope.

“I’ve seen him in my visions … before …” Ismail flinched, his hand shooting up to touch his chest.

“Heart pain?” Eli asked quickly.

“I told you, imp-breed,” Ismail murmured, closing his eyes trying to regain composure. “She’s hunting me.”

“I won’t let her get you,” Eli repeated.

Ismail shook his head slowly, started to speak but then decided against it. His body trembled and sweat slicked his face. Eli put a comforting hand on the scullion’s shoulder. Ismail looked down at the hand and then up at Eli with warning in his stare, but Eli didn’t remove it. The commander had taught him a lot, but he’d learned by himself that a genuinely caring touch after harsh treatment can break down all kinds of walls.

“What is it to you, imp-breed?” he asked. “Why do you care so much? What do you want from me and Zara?”

“Nothing,” Eli responded. “As I said, Ev’r’s my friend.”

“There’s no such thing as friends,” Ismail echoed something Ev’r had once said. “And nobody does anything for nothing.”

“I do,” Eli replied.

“Why?” Ismail demanded.

“I don’t know,” Eli said, honestly. “I just – care. Diega, my tracker colleague, my friend, said I have a hero complex.” He smiled at the thought of Diega teasing him, but the smile faded. Where was she?

“So that’s why I care … but why are you here helping me?” Eli asked the question he’d been trying to stop himself from asking.

“For Zara.” Ismail said. “If you’re killed there’s no chance for her …” Desperation filled his stare, but then his eyes blanked out to hard and vacant. “Proceed with the objective, soldier. Available time unknown,” he said, his voice back to military.

Eli nodded – Ismail was right, time was against them, they had to stay on track. He looked back to the screen.

Information was starting to filter in around the image as the system continued to decode its data. It looked as though Quartermaine had set up the picture to document the Omarians’ abilities.

Eli read aloud. “The male Omarian is born with a needle-like section of bone known as the
kien
that he can access by breaking his own wrists …” He flinched as the hologram demonstrated the process. “If used to stab, it injects a slow poison that burns like fire.” Eli spotted a crucial word. “Antidote!” He went in very close, the light and words reflecting across his face. “There is only one cure – Omarian blood poured over the entry wound …”

To cure Jude they needed Omarian blood … To get the blood and to find the commander and the others, they needed …

“Portals. Look up portals!” Eli instructed the system. A sea of data, formulas, equations and theories appeared instantly. Eli waded in. Partway down, science gave way to paranoid rambling as Quartermaine clearly became more and more convinced that the Omarians, in particular Lecivion, were planning to double-cross him. His plan of counter-attack was to attempt to assassinate Lecivion. He had tried to make a portal into the Omarians’ realm using his theories but had failed, and had changed plan to finding an existing portal instead.

“Quartermaine writes:
I’ve located two remaining portals in Scorpia constructed by rogue Omarian Englan Chrisholm. One hanging in the Superior Hall of Nineva in Adliden, the other lost in the depth of LaNoria …
” A map appeared beside the writing, showing the locations of both paintings. Eli’s immediate thought was
no wonder these two Chrisholm paintings survived the mass burning that claimed all the others
. Adliden was the only underwater level of the city, Nineva one of its suburbs, and LaNoria was the notorious Level 4, completely sealed off from the rest of the city many years before Eli was born after some sort of infectious outbreak.

The information didn’t say whether Quartermaine had gone to search for the portals or anything further, other than one more line which Eli read out.

“The access enchant to open the portal to Omar Montanya is ‘behind the red star smiles the darkness – Omar Montanya’.”

As soon as Eli said the words, he realized he’d made a terrible mistake. A shock wave ran through the air with a gust of burning heat. The ground trembled. Ismail growled and Eli gulped. They both sensed some kind of presence gathering force around them.

“Move!” Ismail said. “Disconnect everything. Evac now!”

Eli yanked his system free. He gathered everything up and shoved it onto his belt, then raced behind Ismail toward the door. They crashed back out into the consuming dark of the tunnel and Ismail started clicking, projecting a path for them as they ran. Eli glanced wildly over his shoulder and saw the motionless forms of the Midnight Men, sleeping still, but for how long? Eli had lost track of time inside the laboratory. He ran on, his wings flapping uselessly, crashing against the sides of the tunnel. In front of him, Ismail skidded to a sudden stop as a square of white light flared in front of them.

“Other way!” he ordered Eli, whipping around and shoving him back in the direction they’d come. They fled, but soon running bootsteps were echoing close behind them, herding them back toward the dead-end of the laboratory room. Eli had thoughts of locking themselves in and trying to set up some kind of barricade when Ismail grabbed him to a stop.

“In there,” he said, pointing to the still silhouettes of the Midnight Men just ahead.

“What do you mean?” Eli gasped.

“I mean – in there!” The scullion crushed Eli’s arm in a vice grip that would have made him yelp if he wasn’t frozen numb with fear. Ismail dragged him to the Midnight Men, where they inched around behind the deadly spectrals. Shadows cloaked their forms, shreds of gore hanging off razor claws. Bones and skulls and random objects cluttered the ground beneath their feet. Eli’s mouth felt desert dry. He glanced at his chronograph. It was past mid-dark. He stifled a strong urge to burst into laughter. The footsteps pounded nearer and Ismail dragged Eli further back to hide in the shadows.

A group of five Omarians ran into sight, coming to a halt beside the Midnight Men. One scanned his fire torch across in front of the Spectral Breeds, the flames rippling through the darkness. The Omarians looked at each other with uncertainty, contemplating the strange spectrals. Eli sucked in his breath, trying to channel invisible. Ismail had closed his eyes so that their nocturnal glow wouldn’t give them away. The Omarians shuffled around and murmured to each other, distracted by the Midnight Men, not noticing them crouching behind. Eli willed them to just keep going toward the laboratory. It would give him and Ismail a chance to make a run for the ladder. They seemed to start backing away and Eli felt a flicker of hope, but then one Omarian lifted his hand and hurled a fireball straight at the sleeping spectrals, setting some of them ablaze. The Midnight Men woke with horrible screeching screams like nails scratching down a blackboard. They flared up, their Cos magics shaking the tunnel and bringing chunks of rock down on Eli’s head. They flew at the Omarians, who responded with fire and light-form.

Ismail seized Eli’s arm and dragged him around the chaos. They broke out and bolted down the tunnel. Eli could hear steps pursuing them. Ismail fired electrifier shots over his shoulder into the darkness. The steps slowed, but as soon as Ismail stopped they came again, faster. Ismail glanced at Eli, his wild eyes glowing red, reflecting Eli’s thoughts back at him – if the Omarians got them in their sight with light-form, they’d be sunk. Eli pushed his legs, the muscles screaming, chest burning, but the steps behind them advanced. They could hear the Omarians’ ragged breathing just behind them, feel the fire on each gasp. They managed to keep one turn ahead until finally they reached the last corner before the ladder.

“It’s here!” Ismail said.

A form appeared right in front of their path and Eli slammed to a stop, seeing a Midnight Man – and then a wolf.

“Luther!” Eli yelled.

Luther ran toward them and Eli thought for a moment he was going to hug him, but the spectral-breed flew straight over them, crashing into the Omarian just about to throw a fireball. Luther and the Omarian grappled with each other, Moses snarling and barking, snapping at the man’s legs. Ismail grabbed Eli, but he pulled away; he wasn’t going to abandon Luther this time. The Omarian shoved Luther back and caught him in light-form vision. The half-Midnight Man gasped and sank to his knees, convulsing. Moses leaped at the Omarian’s neck, but was snared as well. The wolf howled and contorted horribly in midair. Ismail was shouting, Eli screaming – both were blasting their electrifiers, but the Omarian was consuming the shots with his fire.

It looked hopeless, until a thought jumped to clarity in Eli’s mind. He grabbed the light blaster off his weapon belt, flicked it on and shone the beam right into the Omarian’s eyes. Immediately, the man flung an arm over his eyes and shied away, releasing Luther and Moses. Before the Omarian could recover, Ismail opened fire with his electrifier, blasting him apart. The man exploded into a ball of flame. Eli hit the ground, shielding his face, and when he looked up he saw the Omarian was ash and Luther lay sprawled out in front of him cradling Moses. Eli scrambled to them. The wolf was unmoving and tears were streaming down Luther’s face. Ismail dropped down beside them and lifted the wolf’s muzzle. His head hung limp, eyes rolled back in his head. Luther sobbed. Ismail touched Moses’ side and sent a cracking electro-current into him. The wolf stirred back to consciousness and gave a faint whine. Ismail put his head down to Moses’ face and the two touched foreheads, connecting for a moment – a wolf and man who shared the same bloodline. More bootsteps sounded behind them. “Luther, take Moses back to my bunker,” Eli rushed. “There are people there who will help. They’re friends – go!”

Luther staggered up, terribly weakened himself, struggling to hold the wolf’s bulk. It took him several attempts to dissipate before they both vanished. Ismail and Eli’s eyes met, then they sprang up, lunging for the ladder and climbing as fast as they could. Eli buzzed his wings, but the tunnel was so constrictive he couldn’t launch into flight and had to rely on the speed of his hand. When they were halfway to the surface a fireball rushed after them, and Eli gasped, feeling the brutal heat biting at his legs, before it sank back down. They were just out of range, but immediately heard Omarian boots on the rungs climbing after them, getting closer. The next fireball would consume them. They took the second half of the ladder at an impossible pace, scrambling and dragging themselves up and up until Ismail slammed into the grating above and threw himself out. Eli tried to follow but failed, his legs slipping out from underneath him. His chin slammed into the ladder bars and he bit down on his tongue, the pain almost blacking him out. He dangled by one slipping hand and heard the roar of fire behind him. Gritting his teeth, he swung up, reaching desperately for the top of the ladder. Feather-soft hands with an unyielding grip latched onto his wrist and wrenched him upward out of the hole. He collapsed onto the sidewalk as a column of fire blasted up right behind him.

Eli lifted his head and saw a pair of gray feet in front of him. He scrambled up, surrounded on all sides by Skilsy Wraiths. Behind the Wraiths more spectral-breeds were re-materializing – masses of them, standing statue still, staring at the grate, where the clunks of the climbing Omarians echoed below.

“Keep moving!” Ismail called to Eli from where he was pushing through the crowd, getting away from the grate.

“Thank you,” Eli said to the Wraiths around him. “But you should go. They’re fire-wielders – they’ll set you alight.”

The Wraiths regarded him with enigmatic gray eyes and held their position.

“Soldier, move!” Ismail shouted again and Eli ran to catch up, weaving his way through the silent Spectrals as the sounds of their pursuers grew louder and nearer to the surface.

“They’ll kill them all,” Eli panted to Ismail.

The scullion shook his head. “Specs aren’t as fragile as they look.”

As he said the words, an Omarian face lifted up through the hole and yelled at them. At the same time Eli sensed Cos magics surging through the air all around. There was a screech of steel and wrenching of concrete – a boom and a blast and then a deafening crash that quaked the ground so fiercely Eli was thrown off his feet. He spun around to see the spectrals had lifted an entire building and slammed it down on top of the grate, crushing the storm tunnels and the Omarians deep into the ground below. It felt a bit like overkill, but Eli had no complaints.

Eli dragged him up and they ran on until they left Duskmaveth-Aendor and found themselves beside the Brownstone River, close to the public elevator where they had entered the level. Panting, Eli grabbed his com and called Diamond, who answered immediately with a deluge of babbling and crying. She’d seen the whole thing through Eli’s eyes, but been unable to do anything to help.

“It’s okay, we’re alright,” he comforted her. “Slow down. It’s okay. There’s a half-breed Midnight Man coming to you with a white wolf. Both have been drained by the Omarians. You have to help them – do you understand?”

He heard her gulping, then she said with a trembling voice, “Mr Nimbles likes dogs … They smell like mud.”

“Do what you can for them,” Eli said.

“I will.”

“Can you send me through Jude’s stats?”

“Sending now,” Diamond told him.

Eli ended the transmission, reading Jude’s status report as it showed up in his system. His heart rate had slowed more and some of his organs had shut down as the poison progressed toward his brain. They had no time to stop and recover. Eli glanced at Ismail and gasped.