Chapter Nineteen

‘The scholars once talked of a tenth warden. A warden that abandoned his duties and let good and evil mix freely. This final hall was said to be the home of mankind.’ 

Caid couldn’t say what he expected to come from Rawn’s chambers. He hoped to hear discussion of the overseer and his whereabouts, but all he could do was wait and try to figure out what they were getting out of all this. What he received was nothing but complete silence.  

Over the last few days, Rawn had been coming back to his quarters and falling right into bed. There had been no visitors and no talk of anything happening in the outside world.  

The things Caid knew about the world above came from papers that Creaton had been bringing down to him. They also came from Alis’s firsthand experience, when she ventured to the top to help feed the slaves and pay her debts. Caid didn’t bother to ask what debts a small girl could garner, but he knew she was adamant she must pay them. He was surprised she was still so willing to venture out onto the surface. After the close call with the men, he was sure he would have to do no more training with her, but she had surprised him, like she had many times before. She had gone the next day to help feed the slaves, unafraid.  

Caid sighed and stood. He had stayed in the same room for two days, even taking his meals and sleeping there, only leaving to relieve himself in the bathroom.  

Caid felt his muscles pull, and he paused, allowing them to stretch out a bit before pacing the room. He couldn’t convince himself to leave yet in case Rawn said anything of importance.  

Caid had never been an emotional person. Before Geth died­¾and he was driven out of the Wardens¾he had been content. Now the world above them was turning to chaos, and Caid was no closer to being able to help anyone and he felt overwhelmed. Everything weighed on him, even when he told himself he was determined. He knew nothing more than the day he had left the Wardens. This radio had given him hope, but so far, it had produced nothing other than the fact the Wardens were involved in the overseer’s kidnapping. But anyone could have figured that out without the help of the radio.  

They had never actually said they had a hand in kidnapping Seer Creft, but Caid had seen them evacuating the manor, so he knew the truth of that one too. 

Caid ran his hand through his hair, giving another tense sigh.  

He told Alis and Creaton he would help them, and he fully planned to try, but some other part of him told him his life was over now. He knew he had run from Maddog for his own good, but the nagging part called him a coward. He had allowed Alis to guide him like a child and now she wanted him to guide her. He had trained for years as a warden and Galmont had made him a leader, but the self-doubt crept in again.  

Losing a friend had tormented him, but that wasn’t what hurt him the most. It was the fact that although he knew he could do things to help, he holed up in this room with excuses to avoid them. How did someone pry themselves up when their mind pressed them down? It was as if his own brain was revolting against him. 

He was responsible for Alis, even if he wasn’t her parent. She hadn’t abandoned him as he walked around in a daze, and now, he would help her. Caid lifted his hand, blowing into his palm. He had to move on. He had to stop feeling sorry for himself. He found so many reasons to feel bad, but it was time to look for reasons to feel good.  

Caid leaned his forehead against the cold wall, trying to calm his thoughts. He needed something to get him going in the right direction.  

He thought of going to help Alis run her errands or even forgiving Creaton and helping gather information.  

Caid was just about ready to force himself to leave out of the door, but before he could make it out Rawn spoke over the speaker. Caid froze as if any movement might scare Rawn away like a skittish animal being stalked. Caid waited as he heard Rawn rummaging around inside his rooms.  

He was rewarded for his patience when Rawn said the one name that sent chills down Caid’s spine.  

“Maddog, get in here and close the door.” Rawn sounded impatient. 

Maybe something had happened, and he was no longer in control of whatever was going on. Caid tried to think of how that would be of benefit. How could he use Rawn’s panic to his advantage? Caid stopped his racing thoughts; he was getting ahead of himself.  

Caid heard the door close; Rawn sighed audibly, accompanied by the sound of a chair creaking as he sat down. Caid also sat down, hoping this conversation wouldn’t be another pointless one.  

“I got the word we have been waiting for,” Rawn started.  

Caid’s ears perked up. 

“When?” Maddog asked.  

Rawn paused before replying. “Tonight, in Cros. Word is this is a trial run. I have been told a few runs before this were attempted with a small result, but this will be the big test before the final go.”  

Caid had absolutely no idea what Rawn was talking about. Some test in Cros, but that didn’t tell him much of anything since Cros was a big district.  

“After this, we will get our cut?”  

Rawn laughed. “After this, we will get our cut and much more. If everything goes as planned, then not only will we get our cut, but we will get rid of Seer Creft. That means Parian is a district just waiting to be taken. How does Seer Rawn sound?”  

Maddog joined in on the chuckling, but Caid felt his stomach flip at the thought. If Rawn became a seer, the city would really fall, even if the war stopped somehow.  

“Were we invited to the testing?”  

“Not this time, but we will get to see the big one. That’s the one that matters. I was told this one needs to be a little more private,” Rawn answered, but he sounded less confident. 

“Where will they hold it?”  

Caid leaned forward. Whatever it was, he wanted to be there. Even if it was nothing he could change or anything that really mattered to him. If Rawn and Maddog wanted it to happen, then it was up to Caid to make sure that it never did.  

“I was¾” Rawn’s voice cut off into static.  

*** 

Darkness. That was what Creft knew now as his life. That was what he remembered as always being his life. It crept into his mind, poisoning his thoughts. It slid up his spine and, like a snake, squeezed the breath from his lungs. It was always there with him; he wasn’t even able to close his eyes to get away. 

On some nights, Creft was unsure if he had slept or whether it was just so black, he imagined it. Sometimes he would wake up in panic from a sure sleep and remember seeing things, but were they in his dreams or was he awake? He could barely tell the difference anymore, or maybe there was no difference.  

Creft raised his unseen hand to his face, wiping away the cold sweat of panic. There was no heat in the room where he was imprisoned, it was quite chilly at times. Creft would pretend the chill signaled nighttime and warmth would mean it was day, but he had no real way of telling. Even with that system, he had lost count of the days.  

Creft let his hand trail down his cheekbone. He could feel the coarse hair growing along his jaw; he must have been here at least a week or more.  

With nothing else to occupy his mind, he thought about how Creaton sometimes wouldn’t shave his beard for days. Creft would threaten he wouldn’t return until Creaton shaved it off. The next day, the beard would be gone. Creaton always pretended he had intended to shave all along, but Creft knew he had some power over the man.  

Had, Creft thought. He had some power in the past. Now, he was in a cell like a common prisoner and he had no way to know whether Creaton was even still alive. If he was, there was no guarantee he was still in the city; Creaton would have been smart to run. Creft had only seen the beginning of the fire, but he remembered the way the smoke and smell had burned his nose and lungs.  

Creft let his hand drop back to the cold ground. There was no use thinking about any of this. None of it mattered.  

The door flap creaked, and he heard the small tray hit the ground. He had become accustomed to feeling around for the food. It never landed in the metal tray, the force always scattered it about the room, and he would have to slurp the drink from the ground.  

As soon as the food scattered, Creft heard another living creature vying for his sustenance. Creft felt around at a frantic pace, trying to find the food before the mice¾or possibly rats¾did. If they found it first, he would starve.  

Creft felt crumbs lining the floor, but they could have been from previous meals. Still, he scrambled along the trail as if he were searching for life itself. How many days had it been since he had eaten? There was no telling, maybe three cold times ago? Creft lost the trail of the crumbs and doubled back.  

He could hear the squeaks of the rodents drawing closer. They had an unfair advantage over him; their night vision was much keener than his own. His only saving grace was that they were still scared to get too close to him. He wondered what he would do if he caught one of them. Was he hungry enough to eat a live rodent? Had he really fallen that far so quickly? Or had it been a much longer time? In these moments, Creft felt like he was going mad. It was hard thinking about questions he couldn’t possibly answer, but his mind drew to them as if attracted by some irresistible scent.  

Creft followed the trail of crumbs again, which led him to a small chunk of dry bread. He would have given anything to dip it in the water, but he wasn’t sure he could find the water, or maybe there had been no water this time. He thrust the bread into his mouth. The dryness made it hard to chew and swallow, but after working it around into a soggy mush with his tongue, he let large chunks of it slide down his throat. There was no satisfaction to it this way, but it helped ease his hunger pains.  

Creft immediately searched for more, but after a few minutes, he realized that he was searching in vain. The rest of the food had probably been stolen by the rodents. In a way, Creft envied them. They could come and go as they pleased; they fed on his meals, living in Pryce’s manor without repercussions for being there. Creft had to suffer mental punishment every day. Should he be thankful there were no beatings, or was this far worse? At least with pain, he’d have some interaction with others. Here, in this dark hell, he was going mad.  

The last time he had seen anyone was the first day he had woken up with Pryce in his cell. Did he remember Pryce saying he would come back soon? Pryce had still not returned, but why should Creft want him to? Pryce had been the man who had ordered him¾and the overseer¾taken prisoner.  

Creft let his thoughts drift to the overseer. He wondered if he were close by. The first few days he had tried calling out, but no one ever answered. If the overseer was here, he was too far away to hear him. Would the older man have even been able to survive this? He had been down here longer than Creft, if he was indeed in this dark underworld.  

Creft lay down on his back. There was no use wasting his energy by sitting up or moving. There was nothing in the darkness to find. When he wasn’t yelling for help, he spent his first few days examining the walls and the rest of the space, but there was nothing there; just the small holes the rodents crept in through.  

He was just about to close his eyes when something amazing happened. The door opened, and his world filled with light.  

*** 

Caid lunged forward as static filled the airwaves. Rawn was about to reveal the most pivotal piece of information, but something had gone wrong with the radio. It had suddenly stopped transmitting the words and had started with the loud noise Alis kept referring to as static interference.  

Caid didn’t know how to fix the small box. He had tried banging it on the table and then almost threw it against the wall, but Alis walked in, saving her contraption in the nick of time.  

Caid had been watching her tinker with it for the better part of ten minutes, but it still was transmitting nothing but that noise.  

“They are done talking now anyhow.” Caid paced around the room in frustration. “Not even sure what they were saying was important,” he said, trying to comfort himself for not hearing those last words.  

“Be patient,” Alis yelled back over her shoulder.  

Alis had pulled out several tools and was taking the box apart with methodical concentration. Caid saw jumbles of metal and wire inside and felt even more perplexed about how it brought Rawn’s voice into the room. He decided not to ask about it. His mind was racing far too fast to grasp anything complicated.  

Instead, he continued to pace and reason through what was being said over the radio. Rawn had been talking to Maddog about an experiment that would occur this evening in Cros. He didn’t say where, but that didn’t mean Caid couldn’t still search. Cros was large, but many of the buildings were just coal storage. Cros was highly populated, but it was closer to the mountains, where people could live above the smog of the mines.  

Caid heard a popping sound from Alis’s direction and stopped pacing, hope flaring in his chest. The noise didn’t repeat. Alis kept her focus on the radio, which was still in several pieces. Caid reminded himself it had been too long since Rawn’s conversation had been cut off, and whatever he’d been bragging about was long passed.  

The only way for Caid to figure out what was going on was to go to Cros himself. Even if he failed to find what they were up to, what did he have to lose? He had nothing else to go on. He didn’t know how to stop Rawn and the Wardens or where Creft or the overseer were. Maybe this would be his break. Maybe this would be the turning point.  

“I think I can still fix it. He didn’t find it on the other end. If he did, the light here would be red, showing me no connection,” Alis said, pointing to a button in the box.  

“How long will it take?”  

Alis pondered the question briefly, then she shrugged her shoulders. “That, I don’t know. Maybe an hour or two?” she said, sounding hopeful.  

Caid shook his head. “Don’t have that much time.” He reached back, grabbing a coat off the hook. It would be dark soon, and he needed to be in Cros by then.  

“Where are you going?” Alis called after him as he opened the door.  

“I have something to check on. I will be back late,” Caid replied, the door shutting behind him.