Revolution - C M Raymond & L E Barbant Page 11

  “Needless to say, your aunt made a good decision. I guess she experienced what the Academy could turn people into. Adrien did spend his life trying to remake his students in his own image.”

  Maddie nodded and then pointed into the distance. “Is that our farm?”

  Hannah scanned the horizon, looking for any other buildings in sight. But the only one was a simple farmhouse with smoke drifting lazily into the air from its lone chimney. From their vantage point on the rise they could make out neat rows already plowed into the winter dirt and fence lines marking the farmer’s borders.

  “I assume it is,” Hannah responded. “Let’s go see if the farmer is truly sympathetic. Keep an eye on me, though. Follow my lead. I’ll feel the situation out as we go. We can’t be too careful.”

  Maddie nodded as the women crossed the pasture toward the farmhouse with Sal on their heels.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Standing at the bottom of the tower stairs, Parker watched as Marcus lined up their crew of fighters.

  He grinned, proud of the initiative these women exhibited. Each two arm lengths from the one adjacent, they faced a row of objects—old pots, chunks of concrete, and other artifacts from the tower whose original uses were indiscernible. An enormous rotten gourd nearly the size of his head sat at the end of the row.

  Hannah and Maddie were off looking for local help, while Ezekiel and Gregory were looking for assistance from farther away. It was up to Parker and Marcus to prepare their people as best they could, on the assumption that no help was coming their way.

  Marcus shouted instructions down the line as he demonstrated the proper stance to maintain while holding a magitech weapon—knees slightly bent, legs spread shoulder-width apart, left foot forward.

  “Now, depending on the size of your weapon, the kick will be of varied strength,” Marcus said, with their eyes on him.

  A thick woman in the middle of the crowd raised her hand.

  “Yes?” Marcus called on her, ready to convey the wisdom he had gathered over a decade and a half of serving in the Guard.

  “I’m glad you brought this up, sir.” Her face twitched as she tried to keep it straight. “The girls and I have been discussing the size of your weapon.”

  “And the force of its kick,” another chimed in.

  The ladies of the Boulevard, never shy, broke into laughter. A few of the youngest girls glanced at each other, not quite understanding.

  Parker was shocked to see Marcus’s face turn a shade of pink. With so many years among soldiers he was used to crass mouths, but they were typically attached to the bodies of other men.

  “Good one,” he admitted with a nod. “But if we don’t get our shit together, and fast, my weapon’s going to get blasted off before anyone gets the privilege of experiencing its kick. So, let’s bloody focus, shall we?”

  “Yes, sir. I am inspired by your worthy cause,” the woman replied with a wink.

  Ignoring her, Marcus got back into the basic firing position and pointed the end of the magitech gun at the gourd. “Someday, hopefully soon, you’ll be running and gunning. But for now, we work on the fundamentals.”

  He leveled the weapon and fired, blasting the gourd to bits. His students applauded as they saw that he had carved a face into his target.

  “Looks easy,” the thick woman commented.

  “We’ll see.” Marcus grinned. “Now…ready!”

  The women raised their weapons, tucking the butt-end into their armpits.

  “Aim!”

  Some looked around at their friends, while others brought a cheek to the stock of their devices of destruction.

  “Fire!”

  Just after his command, all hell broke loose. Blue streams of energy darted in every direction. Barrels flew toward the sky in the hands of a few who lacked all control. One woman, tall and slender, got knocked on her ass. Out of all the shots fired, only one clay jar shattered.

  “Damn,” Parker said, “nice work, Krystal.”

  Parker’s favorite grinned with pride. “Thank you, sir.”

  “The rest of you have a lot of work to do. Keep after it until you hit your mark. These guns are state of the art, and they should have plenty of charge.” He glanced at Parker, looking on from the tower. “Krystal, walk them through it. I’ll be back.”

  He left his crew to practice as he strode toward Parker.

  “Not bad,” Parker said.

  Marcus shook his head. “You’re shitting me, right?”

  “Do I look like the kind of guy who would lie to you?”

  Marcus laughed. “You look like the kind of guy who would trick a grandmother out of her undergarments.”

  Parker smiled. “I only did that once.” The raid on Arcadia had made the two closer in just a few hours, and they were already starting to enjoy working together. Parker’s misgivings had vanished, and he was learning to trust the man’s experience.

  “They’ll get it,” Marcus said. “Well enough to fire into a line of oncoming Guards, anyway. That’s all we need.”

  Parker looked at the women, many of whom were mothers and friends he had grown up with in the Boulevard. They were all tough, formed like gemstones by the pressures of hard lives. But they were his people, and he couldn’t help being concerned.

  “If we put them out there like that, they’ll be sitting ducks. Magitech is powerful, but it has its disadvantages. For one, it leaves a pretty clear trail. Out in the open, I bet that Adrien’s men target our gunners first. And they know how to shoot. Our people won’t make it long enough for any one of them to make a damned difference.”

  Marcus stood shoulder to shoulder with Parker, watching the troops. Krystal walked the line, helping each one adjust her stance and the alignment of her gun.

  “I know life in the Boulevard was bad,” he finally said, “but it’s still nothing like war. We’re not getting out of this without casualties.”

  Parker’s throat grew tight. “No shit. But I’m not going to send them into the middle of the field as sacrifices to Adrien’s men. Not a chance.” His eyes moved to the thick woods beyond the frozen practice field. “But if we’re smart, we just might be able to use the magitech and our badass Boulevardians in a much more suitable way.”

  Following Parker’s line of sight, Marcus smiled. “I like your thinking.”

  “Not mine. Gregory mentioned leveraging our terrain. I’m beginning to see what he meant.” He nodded to the women. “Get the basics down as fast as possible. I don’t need them to shoot well, just to keep their cool while doing it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to take a walk in the woods.”

  The two parted ways. Parker walked to the tree line, imagining a new kind of battlefield for a new kind of war.

  ****

  Gregory’s eyes shot open as a hand clasped over his mouth. The magitech lights were on again, illuminating the large figure hovering above him. Without his glasses it was hard to make out the man’s features, but Gregory could see one thing—a knife glimmering in the light of the magitech.

  “This one is for Arcadia, traitor,” the gruff voice said.

  Gregory pitched around in his bed, trying to break free of the man’s grip. During his attempts to move he realized that the man’s knee was braced on his chest. There was no way out.

  This was the end.

  Strangely, he didn’t think of his family, or of Hannah, or anybody else. The only thing he could think of was Arcadia, and what would happen to her now that he was no longer part of the revolution.

  The man drew back, eyes wide. Just before it plunged toward Gregory’s defenseless chest, the weapon began to shake. The attacker stared at the knife, confused, as if it hung in the air of its own accord, no longer obeying his command. Slowly it turned backward, and as the man opened his mouth to scream, the knife sank into his throat and he bled out while still trying to shout a warning. The lifeless body dropped onto Gregory, who did all he could not to shriek in
fear.

  “Gregory, let’s go,” a voice whispered.

  It sounded strange, but he knew immediately that it was Ezekiel and his magic who saved him from certain death. Pushing with all his might, he rolled the dead man off him and onto the floor. Gregory groped around and finally found his glasses on the side table. He shoved them onto his face and everything came into focus.

  “Dammit, boy. We need to get out of here. I have no idea how many more there might be,” the magician yelled.

  Gregory pulled on his boots, then grabbed his own knife, which was sitting on the bedside table. He sprang to his feet, energized by fear and confusion.

  “What the hell?”

  “Matthias,” Ezekiel said. “Damn fool must be in Adrien’s pocket after all. I don’t know, maybe the whole damn town is. What I do know is that we have to get out of here as quickly as possible.”

  Ezekiel turned for the door. Gregory required no more encouragement than that; he was right on the magician's heels. They moved down the hall as quickly as stealth would allow. Turning into a stairwell, Gregory took the steps two at a time with the dagger in front of him. He had gone through a few lessons with Karl, but he didn’t expect to be able to do much of anything with the blade. Sure, he could stab wildly about and hope to get lucky, but Gregory had never considered himself a particularly lucky individual.

  Stepping off the bottom stair, they turned for the front door. There was a long haul between them and their escape. Treading down the corridor shoulder to shoulder, the rebels froze as a half-dozen men entered the hallway in front of them.

  “Get behind me, Gregory!”

  He complied. The look in Ezekiel’s eyes made him realize that it was no time for heroics.

  The magician’s eyes blazed red as he raised his hands to either side of him. Fear captured the men of Villgen, and they froze in their tracks.

  “I see that you have been possessed by the devil,” Ezekiel said. “What was it that he offered you? What was it that Adrien could give the people here that true freedom wouldn’t afford you?”

  They chose to attack rather than answer, and charged down the hall.

  “Go to hell where you belong!” Ezekiel screamed, and he shoved his hands toward the men.

  Blue light shot from his fingertips and a ball of power rolled through the men. It was large, and the narrow hallway left them no room to hide.

  Gregory covered his face with his arm, afraid of being blinded by Ezekiel’s pure power. He had never seen the man so angry. When he looked again, the attackers had been torn apart by the magic.

  He looked at Ezekiel, whose face was drawn from the excessive use of power.

  “Ezekiel…”

  “Stay close to me, son.”

  They ran down the hall, leaping over the pile of human flesh near the end. As they rounded the corner, Gregory saw the one thing standing between him and freedom.

  Matthias.

  But the man wasn’t the same as he had been earlier that evening. In place of the hunched-over sloppy old man stood someone who looked a bit more like Adrien. He was tall, and his white hair and beard now looked distinguished. His previous appearance had been part of a ruse, and both Ezekiel and Gregory had been taken in by it.

  “Step aside, old friend, or this night will be your last.” Ezekiel’s voice was pure ice, and the sound sent a shiver through Gregory’s spine.

  A sneer crept across the man’s face. “Ah! The Founder has spoken and I must comply. Is that how it works, Ezekiel? You were always a self-righteous sonofabitch, even forty years ago when the first stones were laid for the wall. I thought your travels throughout Irth would have taught you a thing or two. But that must be my job.”

  Matthias snapped his arms to his sides, and pure black covered his eyes.

  “By the Matriarch!” Ezekiel shouted. “What possessed you to do this?”

  “Still believing in children’s stories, are we, Ezekiel? Let me show you real power.”

  Ezekiel spun toward Gregory. Grabbing him by the cloak, he threw the boy into an open room like a ragdoll.

  “Stay there!” he screamed. With a flick of his fingers, the door slammed shut and was locked with magic.

  Gregory dropped to the ground as he heard the shouts of the magicians and the melee of magical battle commence.

  ****

  “Stand down, Matthias, and I might not flay you alive,” Ezekiel demanded. His eyes glowed fiery red, and his voice bellowed like a god’s.

  Matthias passed balls of fire from hand to hand like a juggler in the market in Arcadia. He laughed. “Always thought so much of yourself, haven’t you, my old friend? And here you are, coming to me, thinking that I would curl up for you like some pathetic lapdog. Well, a lot has happened since you left Arcadia all those years ago, and many of us have grown stronger than you ever thought we would. You may have been the strongest back then, but you had a head start.” He threw a ball just over Ezekiel’s head and shattered the plastered wall, causing him to duck. “But I’ll make you a deal. Give yourself up, let me bind you and the boy, and I won’t kill you. You’ll make a fine present for the Chancellor, pay him back for all that he has given me over the years.”

  Ezekiel brushed the broken plaster out of his hair and beard. Standing straight, he said, “Your mind has been poisoned, Matthias. And I can’t say that I am too surprised. You were always weaker than the rest of us. But Adrien’s way, their way, will not lead toward a good life. You follow that road, and it will ensure your destruction as well.”

  Matthias shrugged. “Maybe. But probably not. You see, Ezekiel, you rest on a bed of assumptions that have not been tested and, I assure you, are not true. You have a set of ideals, and, to be honest, I respect you for them. The problem is, it’s the wrong set. Join us. Let me talk to Adrien on your behalf. With the three of us working together, our kingdom would know no borders. And isn’t that what you always wanted?”

  “Power? You are a fool if you think that was my goal.”

  Matthias laughed. “Call it what you want. Sure, Adrien wants power. I want to grow my little city here out in the west. You? You want peace. Join us, and we will help you achieve that peace.”

  Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed. “Your idea of peace only comes on the heels of death for those who oppose it. I would die before joining Adrien, which I now gather includes joining you.”

  “Then you will die!” Matthias shouted as he launched another fireball, this one larger than its predecessor.

  Ezekiel dove out of the way and tucked into a roll. He sprang to his feet with the dexterity of a man half his age.

  “Not bad, old friend,” Matthias said.

  “I might be old, but I am no friend of yours.”

  Ezekiel spun his staff overhead, and the walls began to shake. As Matthias prepared to throw another fireball, Ezekiel’s staff finished its arc, and he pointed toward the man he once knew. The very fabric of the house seemed to answer Ezekiel’s call. Furniture and floorboards alike flew toward Matthias, crashing into the old man and slamming him into the wall.

  He hung there, pinned by broken wood as Ezekiel stepped closer, staff pointed forward.

  “Yield,” Ezekiel yelled. “I do not want to destroy you.”

  The man choked out a laugh. “That’s all you’ve ever been good for, Ezekiel. Destruction. We built this place while you were off who knows where. I’m proud of my work and proud of what I’ve built, even if I’ve had to partner with that weasel from Arcadia. But I’ll be damned if I will let some crazy drifter ruin what we’ve put in place here.”

  As he spoke, Matthias managed to push out with his hands, shattering the wood that held him. He landed on the floor and looked up at Ezekiel.

  Ezekiel’s face glowed like the harvest moon, his eyes burning red. Raising both hands up over his head, he drew on a type of energy he hadn’t for years. A green orb formed in his hand.

  “Sometimes you need to tear down before you can start over!” he shouted.

 
He flung his energy down onto the man. Matthias’s eyes covered over in black as he blocked the attack. Ezekiel’s power poured around him.

  “It is over!” Ezekiel screamed.

  “I can hold this all day,” Matthias said with a grin. “At least long enough for the guards to arrive.”

  Ezekiel’s face softened, his mouth turning up at the edges. “Then we’ll just have to end it now.”

  At that, Ezekiel reversed his attack. Instead of pushing down on Matthias, he shot the green fire into the ceiling. Matthias’s eyes opened wide as the weight of the building fell on top of him.

  Ezekiel ran as wood and brick rained down upon him. Gregory came tumbling out of the room just as Ezekiel arrived.

  “What the hell?” Gregory shouted.

  “No time! I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.” Ezekiel grabbed Gregory’s arm and pulled him toward the door while holding his staff overhead. A faint glow surrounded them, warding off falling debris.

  The two men reached an outer wall just as the hallway behind them collapsed.

  “Now what?” Gregory asked, looking left and right for some way out of the death trap.

  Ezekiel gripped his staff near the bottom with both hands. “Now, we get the hell out of here. Stand back!” he yelled. Then, with a grunt, he swung his staff into the wall. It shattered like glass.

  As they ran outside, the rest of the building sank in upon itself. Ezekiel watched for a second, then turned and began walking briskly toward the town gates.

  Gregory stumbled past, still dazed by what had just happened.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Where else?” Ezekiel muttered in reply. “We’re going into the Dark Forest. I hope you got some rest, because we’re going to need it.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The moon was already past its peak by the time they reached the forest. At Ezekiel’s insistence, they had made the remainder of the trek in darkness, the path illuminated only by the stars.