The Unseen Tempest (Lords of Arcadia) (17 page)

Which was a bad thing for Ater and Kor.

“Come with us, please,” the second guard demanded, indicating Ater and Kor should walk ahead of him and his companion. His hand rested on the hilt of his weapon, and from the way his fingers drummed on the sword, it was obvious he was ready for them to argue the order. Kor looked at Ater in question; the dark elf shook his head so slightly the other dark elves didn’t notice. Kor gave him a look—more a drawing of his brows—asking him if he was sure.

Ater just stared at him, blinking one time slowly—answering him yes, he was sure.

Without another word they were led into Stygian, both elves wondering if they had made a huge mistake.

T
HE
FABRICATION
floor was littered with pieces of machinery everywhere.

At first Ferra thought they were walking through an ancient battlefield from the extent of the damage; but as they traveled farther and farther in, she began to think differently. “Were these taken apart?”

Molly nodded as she navigated around the heaps of clockwork debris. “The choppers must have been salvaging what they could from these units to keep themselves intact.” She sounded infinitely sadder than she had when they arrived at the workshop. “Without being fully activated, these machines wouldn’t have been able to defend themselves. They just had to sit there while the choppers dissected them.”

Ferra paused in place. “You mean these were alive?”

Molly turned and looked back at her. “Of course. Once fabricated, all clockwork beings are alive and aware. These units were just waiting to be shipped out. They would have been in standby mode, or what humans would call paralyzed. The choppers would have met no resistance at all.”

The barbarian tried not to shudder as she looked around at the dozens and dozens of piles of machines that had been gutted.

Caerus seemed undaunted by them. “Why didn’t the choppers just have the workshop make more parts for them?”

Molly strode past the piles of machinery. “Same reason the waiting room host wouldn’t acknowledge me. Clockwork beings can’t give orders to other clockworks. They would have had no choice but to turn on their own.”

Something about that explanation didn’t sit well with Ferra. “Then why was this room locked up? There are still parts all over the place.”

“Perhaps they had all the parts they needed?” Molly mused.

Caerus sounded concerned as well. “No, I saw choppers that had been broken down near the grove. They still needed parts.”

“Then I’m not sure why,” Molly said, sounding not at all worried as she kept walking. She didn’t notice that her companions had stopped.

“Molly?” Ferra called, staring past the clockwork companion, a wary, concerned look on her face.

“The controls should be on the far wall,” Molly continued, not catching the change in the barbarian’s voice.

“Molly! Look up,” Caerus warned.

Molly stopped and looked up slowly. At first she had no idea what the sapphire was talking about. All she saw was the darkness of the far wall looming ahead of them. Then her lenses reoriented, and she saw what Caerus was talking about and why Ferra had sounded worried.

That was no wall.

The sheer size of the unit was incredible, dwarfing all the other war machines they had seen so far. From what Molly could see, it was just the torso of the unit. She had heard of units being built that were so incredibly enormous they had to be shipped in modules and assembled later at the customer’s site.

The torso and head—she could see that far—had been crafted in the form of a gigantic demon. The smooth metal had been painted in subtle shades of fire red that only accented the demonic faceplate of the head module that had been fastened to the torso. Two curled horns framed the face that looked down at Molly. Adjusting her vision, she was able to discern that part of its skull had been removed, and exposed machinery could be seen moving inside.

“No take Diablo’s stuff,” it roared as an arm the size of an eighteen-wheeler swung at the companion. Ferra tackled her from behind and threw her to the ground as the arm swung over them.

Caerus called out, “We mean you no harm!”

“No take Diablo’s stuff!” it roared again as it pulled back for another swing.

“It can’t understand you,” Molly explained as Ferra and she scrambled back. “The choppers salvaged some of its mind. It seems only to know how to defend itself.”

“How do we stop it?” Ferra asked, eyeing the machine as it punched out again to hit them.

Ferra made an ice shield to absorb the blow, but it shattered instantly, sending them flying across the floor. “We don’t!” Molly cried as they rolled to a halt. “We need to run!”

The entire room shook as Diablo smashed its hand into the floor, its fingers piercing the reinforced stone as if it were glass. Caerus and Molly helped Ferra to her feet as a sound unlike any they had yet heard exploded around them. Ferra pulled away from the other two and put her hands to her ears as the sound of grinding metal screeched throughout the fabrication floor.

The sound of Diablo pulling himself across the floor toward them.

“Running seems prudent,” Caerus noted, sounding as panicked as she ever had.

They grabbed Ferra and ran back toward the door as fast as they could.

A
T
SOME
point I must have fallen asleep, because Hawk and I were back in my house on Earth. My life used to be so much easier before I had to add words like “on Earth” to explain things.

Anyway, we were in my house sitting on my couch, so it had to be a dream. It was after Spike had attacked us, the door was still open, and I could see the storm raging outside. The weird part was the storm made no noise. I stood up and walked to the door as Hawk asked me, “Are we dreaming?”

I didn’t answer. I noticed there was no front yard to my house; it had turned into a cliff face that dropped off to an endless darkness below. We were stranded on top of a stone tower that looked like it was about to fall. “I hope so, because if this is real, my dad is going to kill me.”

Hawk’s warmth behind me was like a heater, and I leaned back against him while shards of lightning danced over us. “I’ve never dreamwalked before,” he said in my ear. “It’s exhilarating.”

I was about to ask him what dreamwalking was when a gnome walked out from behind my chair and began to speak. “Dreamwalking is the art of traversing the Land of the Dreaming. Though the Land is widely considered a flight of fantasy, there are some who believe that the Dreaming is the tenth realm of existence, the one that binds the other nine together.”

And just like that, the gnome vanished.

“That was Pikir, my old tutor,” Hawk said, bemused. “I haven’t thought about him in decades.”

That made me pause. I turned around and asked him, “Decades?”

And suddenly we were in my school theater and, of course, it was on fire. “Why are we here?” I screamed. We scrambled off the stage and bolted toward the exit.

Hawk grabbed my hand as he had that day and pulled me toward the door. “How should I know?” he shouted. The flames began to spread to the ceiling. “I’m not in control here.”

We were steps from the door, and I stopped, pulling my hand out of his. “You’re right. I am.”

We were sitting in Mr. Watson’s, menus in hand. Hawk looked around, confused for a second. “You did this?”

I smiled. “If it’s my dream, we get to go where I want to.”

Hawk put the menu down and asked, “You’re hungry?” I shook my head and moved over in the booth to let him see what was behind me.

It was him and me ordering food.

“Eggs, cheese, and onions?” other Hawk asked other me.

“You look so cute when you’re clueless,” I commented, watching the other us try hard not to flirt with each other.

“This is where I am going to insult Wanda,” he said darkly.

I turned back around to look at him. “Hey! You didn’t know any better.”

“Didn’t I?” he asked, looking down at the table. “My entire life, I treated people I thought were beneath me like things. How could I
not
know better?”

I covered his hand with mine. “Hey, your society sucks. The difference is that now you know better. You’ve stopped carrying on your parents’ prejudices and just assuming they were right. The fact you’re questioning them is a sign you’re grown.”

He looked up at me, and I could sense the pain inside him like a knife in my own chest. “What is your saying? ‘Too little, too late’?”

I was about to ask him what he meant when we stood in the center of a huge courtyard surrounded by crystal walls. From his thoughts, I knew most of this was from his memories. What wasn’t was the image of his mother tied to a stake as a variety of creatures pelted her with rocks and spoiled food. That was definitely not a memory.

The scene in the courtyard was what he imagined when he closed his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I centered myself and snapped, “No.”

The effect was instantaneous.

We were the only ones in the courtyard now. No Titania, no creatures, just him and me. “This is what Puck wants. He is trying to hurt you the only way he knows how—by making you crazy about your parents. It’s why he made sure everyone knew she was going to die by the end of the summer solstice. He can’t get to you, so he is lashing out with the only weapon he has: your love for your mother.”

“But you were right. This is our fault. All of this. My mother stole the world tree. We practically enslaved the Dark. What’s happening in Arcadia isn’t a revolution as much as it is what some of you call karma. I’ve seen your world through your mind. There are terrible people, yes, but there is a goodness in all of them. They falter, and they trip, but in the end, your people are genuinely good. My people cannot say the same thing.”

“Then change them,” I implored him. “Do what your mother couldn’t. Be a better person.”

He looked up at me and gave me a weak smile. “You make it sound so easy.”

“I’m talking to my fairy boyfriend in the middle of a dream while our friend the gem elemental is snooping on the red queen. Do you see me losing it? If I can handle this nonsense without just lying down and crying, then you can be a better person.” I squeezed his hand, and he pulled me in for a kiss.

“I love you so much,” he whispered through tears.

“And I love you,” I choked back, realizing I really meant it. This wasn’t just an “I love you too” you gave to relatives or friends. This was a bone-crushing, soul-stopping feeling that had literally saved my life. Love wasn’t a concept; it was a living thing in us, and I never felt so sure of something in my life.

Ruber’s voice echoed around us. “I need you to wake up.”

I opened my eyes, and we were back in the room the queen had given us. Ruber floated in front of us. Hawk rubbed his eyes as he came awake. “How long were we asleep?”

“Five hours,” Ruber answered as he began to glow brightly from within. “Are you hungry?”

A laser-like light shot out from him, and words glowed on my lap. “Can you both read this?”

It wasn’t until I felt Hawk reading my thoughts that I realized Ruber had written his question in English. I nodded and said for effect, “I can eat. What do they have?”

Ruber ran down the list of the foods on the table, but I ignored it while I read his message. “Demain plans on attacking as soon as Puck is vanquished. She will already have forces in the capital. She is after Arcadia.”

What is her problem?
I asked Hawk, my mind to his.

My guess? She wants to do the same thing her sister did. Seize the world tree, destroy it, and replant the seed here. Aponiviso will instantly become the center of the Nine Realms, and her land will be healed.
I could sense the admiration in his thoughts.
It’s a shrewd plan.

But I could sense something else.
You were expecting it.

He gave me a sly smile and nothing more.

Before I could go on, there was a knock on the door and a voice from the other side said, “The queen requests your presence. Please make yourself ready within ten minutes.”

“We have been summoned,” he said, getting up. “We should never keep a monarch waiting.” He held out his hand to me and pulled me to my feet.

I wished for the millionth time I had paid more attention in mind-reading class.

K
OR
HAD
thought the lands around Stygian were oppressive. Once inside the entrance, he realized he might not have truly understood what that word meant before now.

Ater had called it a city, but all Kor could see was a refugee camp composed of rickety shacks and torn tents and refuse-lined alleys. Since there was no natural light, open flame provided the only illumination, which meant the entire place was filled with flickering shadows and acrid smoke. Most people wore some kind of tight-fitting mask over their noses and mouths. Kor thought at first the devices were used to filter out the smoke, but as they walked deeper inside, he began to suspect that most people here just didn’t want to be identified.

Few people looked at them for more than a pair of seconds; however, in that short amount of time, Kor could see a dangerous combination of fear and hatred in their eyes. He might have been able to handle such looks from the adult dark elves, but when he saw the children scowling at him as well, he felt a part of his heart break for them. They wore scraps of cloth that were barely more than rags, their faces were streaked with soot and ash, and the only clean skin he could see was under the tear marks that had rolled down their cheeks.

He looked away and told himself they were crying because of the smoke in their eyes, but he knew better.

“Why are they like this?” Kor whispered to Ater. “I thought you said this was a city.”

Ater hissed back, “No, I said it was the closest thing we had to a city. What were you expecting? A ballroom?”

Kor glanced to his side. “Clean water would have been enough.”

They said nothing more as they walked deeper into and under the mountain.