Haelo Rising, page 19
“How do we get behind the Fire Room?” Dagger asked, his impatience growing.
Malik hesitated.
“Malik?”
“His Majesty’s office.”
“Basileus Alcaeus?”
“Yes.”
I knew Alcaeus’s office was near the Fire Room, but the walls between them were thick stone. “Another secret passage?” I asked.
“It’s not really a secret. When the Basileus has new medallion requests, I meet him in his office. He gives me the list, and then opens the door behind his desk. The forge is back there. Once the medallions are done, I enter the back of the Fire Room from inside the forge and hang them up.” His eyes glistened again. “I didn’t know, Your Highness. I didn’t know!”
I scowled. “What you’re talking about?”
“Months ago, the name Massáude was on a list of medallion names left on the Basileus’ desk. I didn’t know! I had never heard the name before!”
“You have nothing to feel guilty about.” I already knew all of this from the interrogation reports. “Theo Vargas tricked you.”
Dagger folded his arms, his impatience mounting. “Malik, do you know how Massáude damaged the pola rings?”
“Your rings are fine. I believe his men are destroying the medallions.”
“Can you fix them?”
“I do not think so. But I can make new ones.”
Dagger pulled off his pola ring and held it up for the goldsmith to see. “Will the new medallions work with the rings already forged?”
“I do not know. I’ve never heard of something like this happening.”
“Colonel, it’s worth a try,” Zeta said. “My ring went cold three hours ago. If we could re-establish communications without Massáude knowing about it, we’ll gain another advantage.”
“Massáude will know,” he ground out.
“Either way,” I said. “We need to try.”
“And how do you suppose we do all this without getting caught?” Dagger said.
I gave him a look. “The walls of all the rooms in that corridor are made of Pankyran stone. We just have to get in the hallway.”
“What about the hostages?” Dagger asked.
That got Zeta, Jake, and Wood’s attention. “You said you had news?” Zeta asked.
Dagger gave me a look as if asking for permission. I nodded. “Honored Noble Delegate Aaram Gevgenis is dead,” he said.
Every set of eyes in the room flashed to me. I kept my gaze on the far end of the table.
Dagger continued. “Her Majesty Galana Cora, Princess Hyacinth, Delegate Dragos, the Galana’s personal guard, and five others were in the Throne Court. They have since moved Cora to the dungeons.” He gave me a careful look. “The rest were taken away, including one of Massáude’s own.”
“A Forçadoro?” Jake asked.
“No, one of his former advisors. A woman by the name of Maria.” Dagger shared a look with Zeta. “Massáude is punishing her, trying to get information. But it makes things more difficult. If we go in for the hostages, she’ll see us. And she’ll want to get back in Massáude’s favor. That pile of complications could get very messy.”
“We could take her with us,” I suggested.
“It won’t be easy if she doesn’t want to come.”
“She’ll want to come.”
Zeta’s eyebrows rose with her curiosity. “And why is that?” she asked.
I kept my eyes on Dagger for a moment before turning to Zeta. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Even if we free the hostages, how do we get them out of the island? The Gate is blocked by an avalanche of stone, the Krypteia’s east entrance was blocked before we even knew Massáude was in the island, and the lava tube entrance we all used earlier—the one I came through today—is now blocked as well. I saw it with my own eyes,” Zeta said.
“We could bring them here,” I said. “Or hide them in the city. At least they’d be free of the palace.”
Dagger tilted his head to the side as if staring through the walls to the city beyond. “That could put the entire population at risk.”
“The question still remains,” Wood said, stepping forward. “How do we get back into the palace in the first place?”
Zeta looked to Dagger. “I was hoping Colonel Stravins would have the answer to that.”
Dagger scrubbed a hand over his face then stalked to the far wall. He searched a high shelf carved into the stone until he found a wide, ancient-looking scroll. He took it down, checked its contents, and then tucked it under his arm. He went back to the wall and searched again, checking a handful of scrolls until he found the one he was looking for.
He brought both scrolls—one ancient and the other seemingly new—back to the table where Goldsmith Malik was sitting. Spreading out the old one, he perused for a few seconds then pointed to a spot on the parchment. “Is this the room you are referring to?” he asked the goldsmith.
I leaned on the table and peered at the scroll. It looked like plans for the construction of the palace, though centuries and centuries old. Measurements didn’t appear to be very precise. Only a few things looked familiar. The palace had changed much since its original fortifications.
Malik tilted his head to get a better look. “I think so. But this hall does not look like this now. See,” he said, pointing to the scroll, “a larger forge, or a gathering room? For the ceremonies?” He shook his head. “Now the forge is two parts: the forge and the Basileus’s study.” He pointed to the page again. “The study is here now.”
I looked at what he was pointing out, studying the former floor plan.
“Dagger?”
“Yes?”
I pointed to the Fire Room. “This is the Fire Room, correct? The Domátio Láva?”
He nodded.
“Here it’s called the Pýli Láva?”
“These plans are a thousand years old. Words change.”
“Pýli, as in ‘gate’?”
The goldsmith shook his head. “Portal.”
“Portal?”
“Gate, crossing, portal,” Dagger said. “It’s all the same in Greek. Pýli probably references the iron gate at the Fire Room’s entrance.”
Malik’s eyes shifted between Dagger and me. He opened his mouth to speak, but then tucked his lips together.
“Malik?” I asked. “Do you have something to say?”
He gave Dagger a nervous glance, then said, “No, Your Highness.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” He relaxed, looking confident in his conclusion.
“Here,” Dagger said, unrolling the second scroll. This one was blue—an actual blueprint. And though compared to the ancient scroll it looked quite modern with its fine, straight lines and incredible detail, the paper was still many decades old.
I searched the corners and found a date. “1903?”
“I’ve seen these before,” Dagger said. “But I was just a kid. When Griffin was two, Cora moved the palace nursery closer to her own suite. She had the old nursery remodeled for my parents and me.”
“Your current room used to be the nursery?”
He nodded. “They ran into plumbing issues for the pola basins and had to pull out these plans from the 1903 reconstruction.” He searched them thoroughly. “There.” He put a heavy finger to a spot on the blueprint.
I leaned in. On these plans, the main north corridor looked a lot like how I knew it. There was the High Court’s chamber and their offices on one side. On the other side of the hall were the offices of the monarchy and their secretaries. At the end, the hall turned sharply, narrowing at the entry to the Fire Room. And sure enough, on these blueprints, a forge was outlined between the back of the Fire Room and the back of the Basileus’s office.
Dagger pointed to the blueprint again. “Once we get past the bend of this hallway, we can’t be sensed from the Throne Court, as long as there are no mercenaries patrolling in here.”
“Again, how do we get inside the palace in the first place?” Jake asked.
“The Krypteia pool?” I asked. As the only other entrance in the north wing, it seemed the most logical choice. And though it wasn’t directly beneath the Fire Room, it was nearby in the lower basement.
“That entrance will be crawling with mercenaries,” Zeta warned.
Dagger didn’t look as foiled as I would have expected. “As long as we silence them before they can escape the Krypteia quarters, it won’t matter.” Dagger stood taller. “We go in through the Krypteia quarters. Zeta, you’ll take Malik to the Fire Room. I’ll lead the rest of us to free Cora and any other hostages in the dungeons, and pull them back into the city. We’ll hide them here if we have to.”
Zeta’s gaze narrowed. “Alcaeus ordered us to contact him before engaging.”
“Not an option. The sat phone won’t work inside the island.” Dagger folded his arms.
“So we link it to a satellite dish.”
“We can’t get to the direct line in the intelligence wing without alerting Massáude; it’s directly under the Throne Court. And the other dish is at the Spíti Enérgeias on the opposite end of the island.”
“Spíti Enérgeias?” I asked, confused. I’d heard the name before, but couldn’t place it.
“The power plant,” Dagger explained. “It houses the generators for the underwater turbines. And the incubators for the enzymes that light the cave’s ceiling.”
Zeta paced.
Dagger put two hands on the table. “We don’t have any feasible options to contact Alcaeus or the Lóchos Homeguard.”
The urgency in the room was growing palpable.
“We need to do something. Now,” I said, recalling the murderous thoughts of Massáude. “Massáude is going to kill more hostages. It’s only a matter of too little time.”
The room fell silent. Zeta, hands gripping the top of a chair, finally asked, “When do we leave?”
“Now. While some of the Forçadores are sleeping.” Dagger looked each person in the eye and waited for unanimous agreement.
After, Jake and Wood crossed the room to their packs and Malik sat back down in a quiet fit of nerves. Zeta was about to go for her pack as well, but Dagger pulled her to a stop. “You need to know, Hector is here.”
Zeta’s aura flashed in anger. “Of course he is.”
“He killed Aaram. He’s Massáude’s new right-hand man.”
“He’s a virus.”
“Don’t let it cloud your judgement.”
“You’re one to talk.” She ripped her elbow from Dagger’s grasp and headed for her pack.
I caught up to her. “How do you know Hector?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Her neck strained with her anger as she sorted unnecessarily through her already packed pack. I would have let it go, but she didn’t. “He was my teammate on the Patrída Vatroz triaden team in Atlantis. It was a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry, Zeta.”
She gave me a look, hauled her pack over her shoulder and marched to the door. “Are we going or not?”
Now late into the night, we crept our way through the back of the Cathedral’s basement and onto the rocky ledge behind the stained-glass back windows. One by one, we sneaked between buildings and across alleys to slink back into the water.
The channels beneath the upper city were empty. From the glimpses of auras I could feel huddled inside the buildings, candeons were either sleeping fitfully or huddled together in fear. The city knew who had infiltrated their island of safety, and they were doing their best to stay out of the Forçadores’ way.
My people were terrified. And trapped.
Staying against the massive stalagmites that held the upper city out of the water, we wound our way toward the palace. On both occasions that we’d come within sensing distance of patrolling Forçadores, we hustled behind the stalagmite foundations to keep the aura-stifling stone between ourselves and Massáude’s mercenaries. Goldsmith Malik panicked often, his aura racing with fear, but somehow, he never did anything stupid.
Ahead was the iron fence that rose from the seafloor to the underside of the palace, separating the underwater palace grounds from the rest of the lower city. The broken gate we’d slipped through two days earlier was now secured shut. We stayed hidden, waiting, watching as three Forçadores moved back and forth. Once satisfied that it was only the three, Dagger motioned Jake and Wood forward, crossbows at the ready.
The three mercenaries were out before any of them raised an alarm. They sank to the darkness below.
Quickly, Dagger thought. Before they’re missed.
Using a thermite rod, Zeta worked quickly to burn the lock off the gate. We slipped inside and rushed toward the shadowed eave where the Krypteia quarters’ entrance lay.
Wait, Dagger thought as we approached. He and Zeta pushed me back against the stone. Dagger ticked his jaw at Wood. Seconds later, I heard the quiet ooof of someone getting the sharp end of a crossbow arrow. Now, Dagger thought.
We moved higher, up through the entrance tunnel, then slowed to a stop just below the surface, careful not to disrupt the still water. Dagger closed his eyes, sensing. We all did. Now, he commanded again.
Quietly, we rose from the water into the dark, cobbled room of the entrance to the Krypteia quarters. I pulled myself up from the bricked ledge and filled my lungs with air. “Where to now?” I whispered.
Dagger put a finger to his lips. I heard the footsteps before I sensed the aura around the bend of the hallway.
We froze. The four kryptes’ guns were still packed away, and Jake’s and Wood’s underwater crossbows wouldn’t work well up here. Without hesitation, I pulled my knife from its thigh sheath and waited. But the footsteps eventually turned around.
Sighing, the six of us took off our packs and prepped for what was to come, pulling out guns from the waterproof pockets. Gun magazines were clicked into place, crossbows were tucked away, shoes were slipped on. I pulled my wet hair back tighter, out of my face.
“Ready?” I asked, looking ahead down the arched hall.
Jake and Wood nodded.
Dagger’s forearms flexed as he cocked his gun.
Malik, despite looking pale, pinched his mouth tight and nodded as well. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said, a solid determination in his voice.
Zeta smirked. “Let’s do this.”
15
Don't Stop Me Now
Dagger took the lead, Zeta the rear. With the exception of Malik, we moved, pistols up, like panthers down the cobbled corridor, passing under arches. Our dive suits—shoulders flanked with the angular black-scale Krypteia armor—no longer dripped. The skin on our arms shone under the torchlight. Our heartbeats steadied with our determination.
I trusted Dagger’s senses more than anyone’s; he didn’t hesitate as we approached the soldiers’ sleeping quarters, so neither did I. He turned around, looked Malik dead in the eyes, and put a finger to his lips. Malik held his breath, stopping. The entrance into the Krypteia dormitories was an open, wide archway. Beyond it were more arched doors. The auras of the mercenaries behind each door slumbered. There was just one Forçadoro still awake. Was I the only person who felt it? I gestured the rest of our party ahead while I stayed in that entrance, sensing the sole awake aura for any indication he noticed us.
The harder I concentrated on his aura, the more apparent it became that whoever this person was, he was intoxicated.
We kept moving. Ahead, on our left, was another arched entry into one of the Krypteia training gyms. Two candeons were inside. Again, Dagger put a finger to his lips. Just as he was about to rush the room, the two auras inside reacted to our presence. A yelp sounded. Dagger’s pistol softly pinged four times.
I tried not to jolt, but no matter how much I had trained for this, death was not something I could take lightly. I cringed as one aura snuffed out instantaneously. But that wasn’t the worst part—the other aura took a few seconds to dissipate. Though just a shadow, I felt his dying pain.
Jake and Wood were inside the training room quickly. They moved like they were of the same mind, anticipating each other’s reactions. One took right, one took left, each scanning the room up and down, from ceiling to floor, synced perfectly opposite of each other. It was almost like a dance.
I stayed back in the corridor with Goldsmith Malik. I’d already felt the shadow of the mercenaries’ deaths; I didn’t need to see it.
“What’d I miss?” Zeta whined from the back. She stepped past me into the arch and scanned the room. “How is it that Stravins got off four shots in two different directions before you two idiots even made it into the room?” she scolded the Beta soldiers. Jake rolled his eyes. Wood lowered his gun. Zeta pushed Wood’s gun back into ready position, eyeing him like a ticked-off mother. “Not done, Wood. Not done.”
“Moving. Now,” Dagger ordered, already headed back down the main hall.
When I passed the training gym’s entrance, I kept my eyes on Dagger’s back. Our speed picked up, footfalls still muted.
We eventually reached a fork. To our right, the hall led to the offices of high-ranking Krypteia officers and to the stairs up to the main floor of the palace. To our left, the old dungeons.
At the fork, Dagger raised his aim to the ceiling. Ping!
I tensed at the shot and the shattering of glass and crunch of plastic. Dagger had hit his target: a camera. “Zeta, take Malik up to the Fire Room. Beta Unit, you’re with me.”
“What about me?” I asked.
“With me. Always.” His gaze swept the hall. “Time to move.”
Zeta gave me a look. “Don’t embarrass me.”
I grinned. “Never. Be safe.”
She winked, then tapped Goldsmith Malik on the shoulder and led him to the hall on the right.
Dagger jerked his head, an impatient gesture to get moving. I gripped my knife tighter and moved nearer to him, Jake and Wood right behind me. Dagger led us down the left corridor toward the concrete-and-steel doors of the dungeons.
