Haelo Rising, page 22
“Gahh!” I grunted with the thwack of another body slamming into me. Now entangled with a different Forçadoro, we rolled once, ending with me on top, my knife lodged into the man’s stomach. His face lurched, eyes unseeing. I scrambled off of him just in time to ready myself for Raul’s second attack.
Block.
Block, hit.
I moved into his personal space.
Hit, hit.
He stumbled back, giving me room to pull my knee up and kick him down. His head hit the floor hard, knocking him unconscious.
I looked around, fists raised. Zeta and Fia had taken care of the other three men.
Fia went back for the hostages. “I’m sorry you had to do that, Your Highness,” Zeta said, now by my side. She glanced down at the unconscious Forçadoro beside me and the dead one behind me.
Slowly, I turned my head to her. “We’re both candeon. We’re both women. We’ve both got a job to do and we’re both covered in blood. Call me Haelo.”
“Wait, where are you going?” she called after me.
“To help.” I picked up the gun from where it lay against the rough stone walls flanking the short road, set the safety, tucked it into an empty pocket slit at my lower back, and marched back through the busted doors into the gaping concrete corridor where the chef, overcome with worry, was hunched over his daughter, Tess.
Her aura was waning, her skin almost white. She wasn’t mumbling anymore. I looked around for Hyacinth and finally found her standing at the two busted doors.
I picked up Tess. The chef—his name badge said Chef Vitz—took up Tess’s other side, frantically brushing hair out of her closed eyes as we moved forward.
“Hurry,” Fia called from the front of the group. “Massáude will know we’ve left by now.”
“If he’s not already dead,” Zeta muttered near me, gun still raised.
A cringe pulsed through my soul at that comment. Because I didn’t want Massáude dead. Not yet. I wanted to be the one that ended him.
“Haelo?” Zeta asked.
“Nothing.” I should be ashamed.
“Colonel Stravins will be all right.”
My shame doubled.
At the doors, I stopped. “Hyacinth, we’ve gotta go.”
She remained frozen. I followed her gaze to the unconscious Forçadoro, Raul. “Hyacinth,” I said again.
She nodded, took a step forward, and then eventually peeled her eyes away from the man limp on the floor.
Behind us echoed the sounds of running footsteps. I whipped around. A younger man was running awkwardly toward us. Nothing about his run, looks, or aura made me feel threatened. When he caught up to us down the lane, he tried to explain. “Colonel Stravins sent me . . . out here.” He inhaled deep into his lungs. “I’m Lieutenant Will Day, his intelligence officer.”
I recognized his voice immediately from the intercom in the dungeons. “Is Colonel Stravins okay?” I asked, desperate for news.
“He was when I left. He had me shut off the lights, then told me to run for it. I’ve been hiding in the Intelligence Wing security closets, monitoring camera feeds from a pocket receiver.”
I motioned for him to keep moving down the cobbled road.
Ahead, Fia had led us out of the roadway, down the bend, and into Pankyra’s abandoned, darkened piazza where, in its center, the ancient fountain of two elegant, ethereal women now stood charred and crumbled. The smell of smoke still permeated the air.
“Oh dear,” Princess Hyacinth gasped.
“One of my more beautiful distractions,” Zeta whispered.
Hyacinth’s eyes bulged. “Don’t tell my mother it was you.”
Zeta’s proud smile dropped.
“Keep moving,” Fia stage whispered. She and Zeta gathered up the group and funneled us through a tiny gap between two buildings, then down a narrow alley.
Chef Vitz groaned as he and I hurried Tess up a bridge and over a canal.
I thought of Dagger. He was alone in the palace, with no backup, fighting any mercenary that came between him and Hector and Massáude. He wouldn’t survive, would he? What had I done? Why had I not processed this before?
My stomach retched.
Hyacinth offered to take my place holding Tess, but I shook her away. I again readjusted the maid in my arms and put one foot in front of the other. Eventually, we gathered beneath the shadows of a building at a boardwalk’s edge. The green glow of Pankyra’s cave was growing darker now. Most of the hostages’ breaths, including Princess Hyacinth’s, were labored.
Where exactly were we supposed to lead these people? Into hiding? Dagger had told us to head to the Cathedral’s Empirical Library to get Cora, but then where would we go? There was nowhere safe. No escape. Massáude had blocked off every exit out of the island that I knew of: the public southern Gate, the northeast Krypteia exit, and the hidden entrance into the northern lava tubes had all been caved in. The lava tube entrance above the palace terrace would be impossible to get this many people to. The only one left was the ancient spiral staircase that wound from the palace’s upper reception parlor up into the white mansion on the island’s surface. Also impossible. There was nowhere to go.
Except—
“Your Highness!” a voice called from above.
Hyacinth and I shot our gazes up to a window two stories above, unsure which Highness was being called. “Jemma?” I asked, squinting in the green glow.
My assistant yelped and then left the window. Chef Vitz and I set Tess on the ground while Jemma raced down to the bottom floor. Soon she stood in the building’s shadows with us. “Your Highness! You’re okay!”
Not really. “How did you get out?”
“I went home to change for the reception. I hadn’t yet made it back into the palace when the Forçadores breached. As soon as I realized what was going on, I ran.” Her lip quivered. “I ran like a coward.”
“Jemma, you did the right thing. Come with us.” I had an idea. It wasn’t quite clear yet, but if everything went right, there was a glimmer of hope that I could get her and the hostages and anyone else we could convince out of this island.
“I can’t leave my grandmother.”
“Bring her with us.”
“She’s bedridden.”
“We just need to get her in the water. Then we’ll pull her along. But we have to get out of this island, Jemma. As many people as we can get.”
“I can’t.”
“Jemma!”
She shook her head, watery eyes large, and then bolted back to the apartment above.
I looked to Hyacinth. “You can’t help her if she doesn’t want to be helped,” the princess said, her head shaking tragically.
I looked around, still formulating my plan. It had to work. It would work.
“Where are we going now?” tuxedoed Problem Number Two asked. “There’s no way out of here! We should have stayed in the palace. They'll hunt us down!”
“They're already hunting.” Zeta said. “The First Pankyran Lóchos Homeguard could be just outside the island by now. We only need to hide until they can breach the Gate.” I felt the fear in her aura. She had no idea if the Lóchos reserves were alive, let alone just outside the island walls. She turned to Fia. “Lieutenant, head to the Cathedral. Find Galana Cora and her guards in the Empirical Library and meet us in the lower city. West of the Gate.”
The riled aura of Problem Number Two festered behind me. “She brought this on all of us,” he whispered to the person beside him. When I flashed my gaze to him, his eyes were locked on me.
“If you don’t want to come with us, then stay here,” I said.
“Maybe I will.” His lip sneered. “We all should go our own ways,” he shouted to the group. “Hide! The Forçadores don’t care about us. They care about the ones that fight back!” His narrowed gaze zeroed in on Zeta and Fia, then me and Hyacinth.
A ripple of unease swept through the crowd. My problem Number Two just turned into problems eleven through sixty-one.
Isander had had enough. He walked right up to Problem Number Two and punched him in the face. The man stumbled into the people behind him.
“Isander!” Hyacinth gasped. “That was Delegate Coleman!”
“Delegate Coleman needed to stop talking.”
Fia stepped in. “We can’t do this. We need to move.”
A splash startled me. I whipped my head around to the rest of the group and watched as half of the fifty that we’d rescued from the palace scattered in every direction, some on foot, some jumping into the water.
“Where are they going?”
Fia huffed. “To hide. Or to their families. They’re scared; they have every right to be.”
“How will we get them to safety now?”
Her eyes narrowed, her mouth in a slight pinch: the universal expression for Don’t make me tell you the hard truth. “Safety? Until the Lóchos get here, there’s no way out of this city. Coleman was right. Their best chance is to hide.”
Isander took Tess from her father. “My turn.”
Vitz hesitated, but eventually consented.
I looked back at Delegate Coleman, but he was nowhere to be found. I briefly caught his aura running away up an alleyway. Good riddance.
Beside me, the secretary looked as if she’d jump out of her skin. Even the yellow bow in her hair shook with her anxiety. “Julia, it’s going to be okay,” I said, trying to soothe her. “I have a plan.”
She shook her head and backed away.
“Julia!”
She rounded the corner of the building and didn’t come back.
“We can’t help anyone that doesn’t want to be helped,” Zeta reiterated, now holding up one of the older women in support. “Lieutenant Fia,” she ordered. “It’s time. Go protect Galana Cora. I’ll take Galana Haelo and Princess Hyacinth and anyone else who will stay with us and lead them deep into the city. We’ll hide until the Lóchos blow open the Gate.” I could feel the ragged hope in her aura.
Fia nodded, eager to get to her empress.
“No,” I said.
The two soldiers flashed their eyes at me, Zeta’s brow furrowing in confusion.
“We should take them to the power plant.”
“Excuse me?” Zeta had already started directing the remaining crowd into the water. I saw the exact moment she realized my idea. “It’s too risky.”
“No, it’s a real shot. We know nothing about the Lóchos. They could be dead for all we know.”
She gave it another thought.
“What am I missing?” Fia asked.
Zeta narrowed her eyes. “Fine. We’ll try it. Lieutenant”—she turned to Fia—“get Cora, Jake, and Wood and bring them to the Spíti Enérgeias.”
“I will not. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Haelo thinks she’s found a way out of the island.”
Fia bit her tongue, then turned to me. “With all due respect, Your Highness, I’m hearing words like think and try, and they don’t inspire confidence.”
“The turbines, Fia.”
She hesitated a long moment, then nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”
18
Best Laid Plans
I waited until everyone including Fia had gone, and just Lieutenant Day and I were left on the boardwalk. “Go ahead, Day. I’ll be right behind you.”
He stepped onto the steep underwater steps. I pulled out the Forçadoro gun from the back of my divesuit and checked the magazine. Just before he ducked underwater, I called out. “Day?”
“Yes, Your Highness?” He turned back.
“Tell Zeta to find as many people as she can. I’ll meet her there.”
Lieutenant Day’s face went white as snow. “No, no, no, Your Highness, stay with us—”
But I’d already backed away. “Tell her!”
“She’ll kill me! Your Highness!”
I raced through the abandoned streets and alleyways of the upper city, searching for auras. The few people I stumbled across fled from me, or shook their heads and backed away terrified, pretending not to understand my pleas for them to join me in escape.
I pressed on. I stuck to the walls of buildings and dipped in and out of alleyways until, finally, I reached the glass doors of the ornate apartment building where Ellie and Milo had told me they lived with their foster family. I didn’t know where all of Martha’s kids now lived, but I knew where to find four of them.
The deep-purple rugs on the lobby floors looked muted, the fireplaces empty and cold, the marble front desk abandoned. I ran upstairs, frustrated that I couldn’t sense through the walls and floors of the elitist building.
Someone scrambled into a room and slammed a door shut. I was sure many others were hiding in their suites. At every apartment on the second floor, I pounded on the door. “Ellie! Milo!” I screamed as I moved from door to door. “Mr. & Mrs. Vasquez? Niko? It’s Galana Haelo.” I rested my head against the last door, panting with disappointment. “Vinny!” I wiped a tear. “Ellie. . .”
They never came.
Determined to find some of Martha’s kids, I gathered myself together, double-checked my knife and gun, and stalked down the hallway to the stairs. Three steps from the bottom, I felt Dagger’s aura rushing toward me.
“Dagger!” He ran right at me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me back up the stairs. My aura flared with heat and then vanished with a pop.
“Run!”
We raced as fast as we could up the staircases, then flew down the third floor hallway. It wasn’t an especially long hallway, and he didn’t slow down. “Dagger?”
But if he wasn’t going to hesitate, neither would I. We crashed—shoulders first—through the hall window, flying through the air. Window pane shards rained down with us, reflecting the green light in a twinkling shower of glass. My grip tightened on his hand, my hair whipping, as our momentum forced us to rotate in toward each other.
We hit the canal water below and immediately swam for deeper water. Bullets zipped at awkward angles as shots hit the water and refracted in different directions. The gun that had been in my hand sank like a rock to the seabed.
How many? I asked, getting right to the point.
Too many.
How did you escape the Throne Court?
We finally reached water deep enough to summon the currents and blasted recklessly through the water, weaving in and out of buildings with a speed that should have thrown us against the carved stalagmite columns of the city.
Hector and Massáude escaped, he thought. His aura sizzled, livid. Where are the hostages and Princess Hyacinth?
With Zeta. Fia went for Cora. What happened?
We dodged another column, but slammed up against the stone on the other side. Our auras snapped back, buzzing like homing beacons in the water. I reached for my rib, certain it had cracked with the impact. We hovered in the water, trying to reorient ourselves. Hurry, he thought, still a bit delirious. Forçadores right—his thoughts paused, flickering—behind us.
I recovered faster than he did. I found his hand and gripped it tight. Hide our auras! Now! I pulled him along, but my current was weak.
Eventually, Dagger righted himself and worked his aura-hiding magic, and we shot off deeper into the city. My heart raced as the auras of at least twenty men approached us from behind. They were fast. But we were invisible.
Deeper we went, reaching for the darkness that would hide us even more. The terrified auras of Pankyran citizens tucked into shelters and homes quivered with the approaching mass of Forçadores. Faster, I thought.
He pulled us into a darkened entryway, the tiny hovel inside empty. Shh, he thought, pulling me against an inner wall. In case one of them can hear like Zeta can.
We waited.
The minutes dragged on, my heart racing so loudly I was sure the Forçadores would hear it beating in my chest. I heard the pulsing swish of blood pumping through my veins. Dagger certainly felt my heart rate in our palms, because every time it spiked, his hand gave me a small, reassuring squeeze.
His eyes remained shut . . . listening . . . sensing as much as he could through the small entry.
Each minute that passed only made my heart race faster and my mind wander. I had so many questions! How long were we going to remain silent and—
Just then, a glowing fire orb—its light flickering oddly—entered the hovel and melted into Dagger’s chest. His face contorted in confusion at the pola message he was hearing.
I almost asked him what it said, but he shook his head. Another minute passed, and he leaned out the hovel’s entry. The Forçadores are gone, he thought.
And the pola? I asked.
It was from Alcaeus. But it was choppy; I couldn’t understand most of it. Something about Hank and the Lóchos reserves. They’ve gathered outside Pankyra but can’t open the Gate. Not yet, at least.
A twist in my stomach unknotted. The Lóchos! They were okay! And they were here!
Dagger was already halfway out the exit.
Wait.
He stopped and faced me.
What happened in the palace?
His jaw clenched. Later.
But my eyes pleaded for answers.
He ran his hand across the top of his shaved head. Hector was in my sights. A human came in right before I pulled the trigger and told us that the Forçadores were closing in on you and the rest of the hostages, so I put the gun to Hector’s temple and demanded he call his men back.
And what happened?
He didn’t answer.
In a split-second, terrible decision, I melted my senses into his aura, cringing at the fury I found there. It was an intrusive, horrible thing for me to do, and I knew I’d regret it later, but I had to know. I reached, and there in his seething memories, I watched through the darkness as Dagger pressed his gun into Hector’s head, forearms straining. He yelled, demanding Hector call back the Forçadores from the city. He even offered to let Hector go, though I felt the lie in the memory. But Hector turned toward Dagger and looked him right in the face, the gun now pointed directly at his frontal lobe. He smiled wide and said, “I can’t. I have plans for every one of those hostages. Detailed plans. For your love, the Galana, in particular.”
