To Whatever End (Echoes of Imara Book 1) (34 page)

“What happened?” Griff asked as he gestured around the room.

“Oh, you know, the usual for us lately. People trying to kill us,” Callum said.

“Who tried to kill you? The smugglers again?” Griff asked.

“That bastard Brunell. Luckily Mira was still here or you’d be permanently deprived of my charm. We managed to barricade ourselves in here. Mira was kind enough to dismantle the lock and move some furniture in front of the door. You Reach Wielders are too bloody crafty. It wasn’t easy keeping him out. He yelled at us for a while, told us the lot of you were dead.”

Cecily stared at Callum, her mouth open. “Brunell?”

“I’m afraid so. After a while it got quiet. We were thinking about breaking ourselves out when he came back, and he brought friends with him. They weren’t far from breaking down the door, I expect, when a funny thing happened. We heard a lot of shouting and what sounded like a great deal of dying. We were quite content to stay in here and wait it out.”

“Lyceum Guards,” Serv said and glanced out into the hall. “There’s one out there in the hallway. The other body looks like a mercenary.”

Callum walked over and peeked out the door. “Looks like one of the smugglers, judging by his clothes. Sahaaran.” He turned back to Cecily. “I’m so glad you took the time to break the venerable Magister out of his cell. And I can’t help but feel we owe the Lyceum a bit of an apology.”

Cecily reached up and rubbed her face. “I don’t understand. Brunell tried to kill you? And he said we were dead?” She looked around at her friends as confusion swirled through her mind.

“I think Brunell set you up. He sent you into a trap. I don’t think Nihil is working with the Lyceum. I think Nihil is working with Brunell. And he just tried to get rid of all of us. The Lyceum is down there, trying to clean up our mess.”

Cecily clutched her stomach and staggered backward. She felt as if she’d been kicked in the gut. Sumara and Serv reached out to steady her. “No,” she whispered. “This doesn’t make sense. Brunell, he…”

“I’m sorry, Cecily, but Callum is telling the truth,” Mira said. “Brunell attacked us. I think he wants us all dead. The Lyceum is trying to stop him.”

“Is anyone else concerned that there’s still fighting going on out there?” Griff asked as he hefted his axe up over his shoulder.

Cecily’s fatigue fell away, her mind suddenly clear. She blinked, pulled her shoulders back, and stood tall. With a glance at her companions, she turned without a word and threw open the door, then walked down the hallway toward the sound of the fighting.

She could hear her companions as they followed, calling her name. She didn’t care. Her feet moved quickly down the hallway. Something had burst inside her, driving out her fear and doubt. Rage, searing and pure, filled her veins.

The noise grew louder and the stinging scent of smoke drifted in the air. She had to step over bodies as she stalked down the hallway, deeper into the Quarry, but they didn’t slow her down. Cecily turned a corner to where the hallway opened into a wide room. Stacks of barrels and wooden boxes stood along the walls, and a black streak marred the stone ceiling. A body lay on the floor in a pool of blood, his clothes half burnt. Two uniformed Lyceum Guards fought three other men in the center of the room, their swords clashing with a metallic ring.

She felt her friends catch up behind her just as she spotted Brunell, hunkered down behind a stack of boxes on the far side of the room.

“Brunell!” Cecily’s voice rang out, echoing off the stone wall. The men fighting hesitated and turned toward her, their swords still raised.

Brunell’s head peeked out from behind the boxes and his eyes went wide. He stood, slowly rising from his hiding place, his eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open. He held his hands up and the three men took a step back from the Lyceum Guards, keeping their swords up to ward off an attack. The Guards glanced behind them and kept their swords ready.

The sight of Brunell made Cecily’s rage burn hotter. The beating of her heart sent her anger roiling through her limbs in a rhythmic surge.

“You weren’t supposed to return,” Brunell said.

“Unfortunately for you, I did,” she said. “Was Wesfell a trap?”

He held up his hands and tilted his head to the side. “Please, Cecily, let me explain.”

“Yes, please explain. Explain how you sent us right into Nihil’s hands and stayed behind to kill my friends. Explain why I should believe that it was the Lyceum working with Nihil, and not you.”

Brunell licked his lips. “This is far more complicated than you realize. The work Nihil is doing, it is extraordinary. The progress we’ve made…”

Her voice was ice. “No.” She glanced over her shoulder and her hand flicked toward the three smugglers. “Kill those ones. Leave Brunell to me.”

Brunell’s mouth dropped open again as Merrick pulled back on his bow and shot one of the men through the eye. He dropped to the ground, twitching as he died, blood leaking from his face. The Lyceum Guards backed up to the wall, making way for Griff and Serv. Griff swung his axe, and the man staggered under the force of the blow. Serv closed with the final man. He lifted his sword and blocked Serv’s first strike.

Griff pounded at his foe again and sent his sword flying across the ground. Swinging his axe around again, he struck the man through the throat and sent a thick spray of blood onto the stone floor. Serv reached his hand out and the other man leaned forward, his feet stuck to the floor. His mouth dropped open as Serv’s sword arced around like a streak of light and ran the man through. His sword clattered to the ground as the body dropped. Serv stepped back and whipped out a cloth to wipe the blood from his blade.

Cecily walked over to Brunell, who stood gaping at the bodies of his men. His eyes rose to meet hers. She Reached into him and put Pressure on his throat. “You sent us into a trap.” He gripped his neck, as his eyes widened. “Nihil doesn’t work for the Lyceum, does he?”

Brunell stared at her for a moment, holding his throat. “No,” he gasped.

“You work for Nihil.” Her voice was monotone. She kept Pressure on his throat, allowing him just enough air to speak.

His eyes cast about the room. “We have an arrangement, yes,” he said, his voice a croak.

She Pressed his throat tighter. She thought back to his last letter.
In the name of progress…
“Did you arrange Daro’s abduction?” Brunell’s mouth opened wordlessly. She stepped toward him. “Did you?”

His head nodded up and down and she let the Pressure go. He doubled over and gasped in a heaving breath. Rubbing his throat as he straightened, he looked at her with confusion plain on his face.

She stepped forward and backhanded him, pounding him across the face and sending him staggering sideways. Ignoring the stinging pain in her hand, she reached out to grab his robes. She hauled him to his feet and felt his Wield, a surging crush of energy directed at her throat. She Pushed back and slammed him with all the energy she possessed. He staggered backward, nearly tripping over a wooden box.

“Cecily, please,” he said as he held his hands up. “You must listen.”

She turned away, breathing heavily. She waited for his next assault, but he kept speaking.

“You have to understand. It wasn’t personal. Nihil is doing incredible things. He is rewriting the laws of Wielding as we know them. The Lyceum was too shortsighted to see it. But the progress, it was incredible. I had to be a part of it. And Daro, with his Imaran ancestry—”

“No.” She turned and held out her hand. Slamming him with Pressure, she grabbed his airway in a crushing grip. Brunell’s eyes widened as he struggled for breath. Cecily held his eyes, staring at him as she crushed his airway, her eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. His face turned purple and he kicked his feet against the wall as her Wielding Energy surged and she Pressed him with her power. With a final squeeze, she gripped her Pressure harder and felt his airway collapse inside his throat. His eyes rolled back in his head as she let go. Stepping backward, she let his body slump to the ground.

Cecily turned to face her companions, her shoulders heaving, and brushed the matted hair from the sweat on her face. Everyone stared at her, openmouthed, their eyes wide. She glanced around at the bodies littering the ground. Her energy leaked away, leaving her feeling hollow and spent.

She stepped over the bodies and walked down the hallway, without sparing a glance behind her.

34. CONSEQUENCES

Pathius.

Number One closed his eyes and let the name echo in his mind like a lover’s whisper. He had buried that name, and the man it had once belonged to, deep below the surface of his consciousness. He had done it to survive. It was easier that way.

He no longer cared what was easy.

He stood alone in Nihil’s laboratory, and the Arcstone pulled at his attention. It lingered in the corner of his eye, a hulking presence in the room despite its lack of size. He knew precisely why they had left him there. Fear. He feared the Arcstone as much as Sindre and her accursed medallion. Both dominated his life, had created the thing he had become. But he had been someone before, and despite his efforts to bury that man, he felt Pathius rise to the surface, wanting to reclaim his life.
Should I let him?

Footsteps shuffled by, but the door did not open. They would leave him for a while, give him time to think about what he had done, like a disobedient child.

Wesfell had been a nightmare. It should have been so simple; the group had walked right into their trap. Even with the Town Guard on their heels, they should have been able to dispatch them easily. He had been ready to kill the woman himself, and the others would have been close behind.

Until he saw her face.

What Fourteen felt for Cecily ran so deep, it saturated Number One each time he extracted energy from him. It was more than love. Fourteen was connected to her on a level that Number One couldn’t comprehend. He had never really experienced love, not that he could recall. It was a heady and turbulent thing, and the knowledge that the feeling was not his own did not diminish its power. He told himself it wasn’t him that loved this woman. It was Fourteen.

Of course, Fourteen had tried to kill her.

He closed his eyes and the sound of his breathing echoed in his ears. Seeing her face had been a shock, like something from a dream suddenly coming to life. But watching Fourteen choke her, her feet struggling in the air, her face turning purple, had been more than he could bear. He knew Nihil wanted her dead. If he hadn’t seen her face, he would have killed her himself. The thought made him shudder. His impulse to protect her was so strong, he had compromised everything to keep her safe. He had no doubt Nihil was going to make him pay for it.

The door opened and Sindre entered, followed closely by Nihil. Number One’s stomach clenched as the door clicked shut. Nihil’s robes swished along the floor as he took measured steps toward him. He stood in front of Number One, his face impassive.

“I sent you to Wesfell with simple instructions. Do you recall?” Nihil asked, his voice hard.

“Yes,” Number One answered.

“You were to kill them. All of them,” Nihil said as he held Number One’s gaze. “It seems I put too much faith in you, Number One. I assumed you would execute your orders.” He flicked his gaze toward Sindre and gave her a slight nod.

Pain exploded down Number One’s back, radiating down in an agonizing wave. He doubled over, clenched his fists and ground his teeth to keep from crying out.

“Tell me,” Nihil said as Number One stood, breathing heavily, “how does one receive such precise and specific orders and fail so completely to carry them out?”

Number One’s back arched as another wave of pain made his muscles clench. It disappeared as quickly as it hit. “The Town Guard arrived too quickly,” he said, his voice breathless. He knew the explanation wouldn’t suffice.
How much do I tell him?

“The Town Guard should not have been an issue.”

A jolt of pain hit Number One. He grabbed his head and cried out until Sindre let go. “We weren’t prepared to fight that many,” he said through clenched teeth. Sindre hit him again and his legs buckled. He fell to his knees and held himself up with his hands. Sweat dripped off his brow onto the floor as he panted, his back and shoulders heaving.

“Your failure is going to cost me a great deal,” Nihil said as he walked slowly around him.

Number One struggled to his feet, his breath coming in gasps. He glanced at Sindre from the corner of his eye. Her lips were curled in a tight smile and her eyes narrowed.
She enjoys this far too much.

Nihil stopped in front of him and folded his arms, his gray robes hanging down. “I was told you ordered the others to leave.”

“Yes,” he said and braced himself for another blast of pain. Nihil raised his eyebrows. Number One’s thoughts raced for an explanation. “We couldn’t risk discovery. If we’d stayed any longer, the Town Guard might have overwhelmed one of us, and that could have led them here.”

Nihil’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “That was the wrong choice.”