Chapter Twenty-Eight

‘The strict regimen and rules the Wardens followed were the envy of no soldier. Every boy taken from the city was worked to the bone and then built back up. Only then were they given the true knowledge of the power of the Nine Wardens. Even then, what was passed was often limited.’ 

Caid held up his hand. “I have told you already, Alis. I am not doing this as a punishment.” 

Alis wasn’t taking his denial well. Caid didn’t want Alis there for Creaton’s daliwin reversal. Not because he didn’t trust her, but because he needed time to figure out exactly how to go about training her.  

“It is for the best,” Caid added.  

Alis looked to be on the verge of crying. “I just want to finish what you promised me.” 

Caid bit back the urge to give into her. He would follow through with his promise, but he wasn’t ready yet.  

“We will. Just not now.”  

“Then when?”  

Caid avoided the question. “Can you listen to the radio? It has been quiet for too long. Maddog and Rawn have to be seething and maybe they will give up more information on what they know.” 

Alis opened her mouth to argue again but was interrupted by Hav’Un.  

“I will help you with this task, Alis,” he said.  

With the help of Hav’Un, Caid felt a little less sorrow in leaving Alis.  

With one problem solved, he turned his attention to Creaton. He had to push him through the tunnels after leaving Alis.  

“Do I have to kill someone again? You know, not in self-defense, but actually cruelly kill someone who has no idea it is coming?” Creaton had a panic to his voice Caid could never remember hearing before.  

“You were all too willing to kill me not long ago, as I recall it,” Caid said matter-of-factly.  

Creaton shook his head, his seeming denial meaning little to Caid.  

“That was different, I thought you deserved it. I thought wrong, but I was told it was a justice killing. Plus, I told you already, I avoided doing it. I am not so stupid as to believe that some don’t deserve to die, and I am not so cowardly as to not kill those who would kill others, but I don’t want to kill a man in his bed for the mere fact that someone had given me a coin to do so.”  

“Not how it works, but never mind that,” Caid replied.  

He took a few steps farther into the street. The buildings all around them were smoking or looted. Clearly no one had formed a good leadership alliance in Parian after Creaton and Creft had been taken. It was now just a cesspool of thieves, murderers, and those who would benefit from others’ misfortune. Any decent person stayed inside or abandoned the district.  

“Let’s just get this over with. We can finish this process and then find the daliwin and Creft, hopefully alive. With him, maybe we can garner some support in the city.”  

Caid looked for potential causes where Creaton could get his needed items for his compass. There was no lack of causes; it was likely that around every bend in the district, a group was causing trouble. He could hear occasional screams from all directions, and there were probably even more never able to get the scream out.  

It was just a matter of picking one that would suffice without getting anyone killed.  

“Let’s start this process,” Caid said without turning around to face Creaton.  

*** 

If Alis had said, she was just frustrated, she would have been lying. She was furious. Just generally at everything that had happened to her since the day the slave driver had shaved her head, branding her with the red X over her temples. Those marks, while now hidden, would always be a reminder of the simpler, happier life she would never get back, no matter how many ribbons decorated her hair.  

 “Remove the scowl from your face.” Hav’Un ate a bowl of food he had found in one of the tunnel rooms. He didn’t look at the food, but he stared hard at Alis instead.  

“This isn’t fair,” Alis said, instantly feeling like the child she was. She wished she could shrug it off, but the weight seemed too much to bear.  

“Nothing is ever fair,” Hav’Un said. “But we are alive, and many are not. We are not baking in the sun on the surface, and many are. I think we have it better than we could and that isn’t fair to those who do not, but they no longer can complain and so we should not either.”  

He was probably right, Alis thought. At least she was still here and at least she still had an illusion of hope. It would probably never change anything, but she still had a life to live.  

“Do you think we can ever be free, Hav’un?”  

“Freedom is in your mind. Be it chains, marks, or walls, you are never truly free. Even the seers are expected to be something they do not totally want to be. No man is free to do fully as he wants. Every man must abide by the rules of society, and that means no man is free.”  

“What about Pryce?” Alis wondered aloud. The man seemed to do as he pleased, when and only when he pleased to do it.  

“I believe Pryce would rule the world if given the chance. He seems freer but is still bound by his limits. He may get closer to freedom with this war, but he will not achieve it; at least not truly.” Hav’Un took another bite from the bowl.  

Alis wanted to go to the surface to fight in the upcoming war, but there was no possibility for her to do that. Deep down, she realized it was a foolish idea.  

The crackle from the radio had been steady all morning, but something new drew Alis’s attention away from her own thoughts.  

*** 

“For the cause?” Creaton asked, having forgotten most of the steps in this process.  

Not to mention, the first time had been a lot different than it would be today. For one, the streets had not been lined with ash, rubble, and decadent crimes. They had once been, for the most part calm, or at least as calm as hundreds of people walking along a city street could be.  

He had also only been about fourteen years old, almost twenty years ago now. A time before he had even sprouted hair on his chest, but yet, the Wardens were already pushing him to become something he feared more than anything else; a pawn in the game of murder.  

“Yes, for the cause. Don’t act like you don’t remember the steps, Creaton. It really is a useless act. You don’t have to like it, but we still have to complete it.”  

Caid was right about Creaton not liking it, but he was wrong that Creaton remembered the process. He had blocked out as much of his time with the Wardens as he could. This time was different, not only could he find the daliwin¾which he cared little for¾but he had the chance to save Creft too¾if he was still alive.  

The first time he made a daliwin he had nothing to look forward to but a life of servitude in a profession he wanted nothing to do with. They had forced him onto the street that day and he remembered the hard shoves in his back as he shuffled his feet. He tried to remember the warden trainer’s name, but he had spent too much time forgetting.  

“Which crime do I stop?” Creaton asked. He had been stopping crimes for many years, even after leaving the Wardens. The envoys did their fair share of fighting, but it was always for a noble cause, never for coin. They protected those who failed to protect themselves.  

“Don’t worry about the crimes, that is the envoy in you speaking. We have a cause and you must work toward it.”  

Creaton thought about their cause. At first, it had been something real and almost tangible. They were fighting to free the city from Pryce and civil unrest. That had almost completely fallen apart when the Oranaos Envoy plowed through their forces. What was their cause now? Not to die. To rebuild? Creaton held on to the latter; at least if he thought there was a chance to rebuild, he could retain some level of hope.  

“How do we rebuild this mess?” Creaton asked.  

“We fight,” Caid answered.  

It sounded exactly like the answer he expected from a warden. Creaton remembered asking why it was important to fight and he remembered the trainer’s words, “To conquer those who would as soon conquer us.” In the past that had meant nothing, but now, as a man, he understood the meaning behind those words: strike first or be taken.  

Creaton lifted his sword. “Time to get our cause.”  

*** 

Creaton crept slowly toward a small band of women. Caid had no time for such subtlety, this was more than a thievery task¾this was a task that needed to be quick.  

He moved out from behind the corner he had stationed himself in, walking forward at a brisk pace, passing Creaton, who crept like a predator in the night.  

“What are you doing?”  

Caid heard Creaton call out as he passed.  

He kept going, not willing to answer such a silly question. Creaton knew what the task was and how to accomplish it. He had done it once before, long ago when he was green. Like Caid, he had probably never touched a sword before that day. Now they were both trained killers, even if Creaton tried to pretend his job was nobler than Caid’s.  

Caid put himself in the center of the gathering of women, seeing they were huddled around a small child sitting on the ground.  

“He is hurt,” one of them sobbed.  

Caid could see the boy was holding his arm as if broken, but he made very little sound. Caid would have expected more whimpering and crying from the small child.  

“What happened?” Creaton asked as he positioned himself next to Caid.  

Caid bent down to check on the child, but even as he touched the child’s arm, the boy showed no emotion. Something was off, but Caid sensed it too late. Something heavy slammed into the back of his head; he didn’t need to check to know it had opened a wound.  

Creaton fell with an audible smack from another object. The women moved forward, and the child stood up effortlessly. Caid felt his vision waver, and he wondered how long he could stay conscious. He reached up, touching his daliwin, taking the energy from it. He then reached back, stopping the bleeding on the back of his head, taking the pain from his mind. It would return later, but for now, he could forget about it. His vision instantly cleared, and he noticed a couple women were holding Envoy-issued one-shots. One lady, probably the boy’s mother, was reprimanding him loudly off to the side.  

“You have got to act better, or we will die next time.”  

Caid reached back, touching the handle of his sword. There would be no next time for these cons. Caid jumped to his feet, pulling the sword from its resting spot. The woman, who walked toward him, paused and held her stick out before her.  

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” she said, with evident shock.  

“I could say the same for you, but I don’t really care how hard you choose to make it. The outcome will be same.”  

The woman made a grunting noise, rushing forward. Caid easily dodged her, smacking her on the side of the head with the pommel. She fell to the ground, and she would be staying down.  

Caid turned to find two more women coming at him with sticks held firmly. He knocked one swipe away, feeling another hit him painfully in the hipbone. Caid cried out, turning to the attacker and swinging his sword at her head. He no longer cared whether he had to kill them.  

Caid’s swing missed, but another blow caught him across the back. Caid jolted forward, unbalanced. He would have to stop holding back if he were going to win this fight. He would have to treat them as if they were trained.  

Caid glanced over to Creaton, who was getting to his feet.  

“This is your battle,” he yelled to him. “You need the juice, not me.”  

Creaton nodded, not looking too worse for wear after the initial blow to his skull. He reached down, grabbing his sword and barely dodging a second blow. He thrust the blade upwards, cutting the woman on the thigh. She let out a scream, scrambling back, holding her bleeding leg. Creaton shot forward, easily dodging blows from two other women.  

Caid was now fending off the other two with quick and precise blows. He cut the first woman on the chest and then again on the upper left arm. The second woman received his sword through the top of her foot, sending her to the ground screaming in pain. Caid pushed the woman before him backwards; she glanced behind her, leaving her open for a strike that sent her sprawling to the cobbles.  

“Just stay down,” Caid said to her.  

He glanced over to Creaton, who appeared to be doing well for himself. Creaton ducked under two simultaneous blows, hitting one woman with the flat of his sword and the other with the back of his fist. Both women went down and Creaton stood with his arms outstretched, the band of women lying in heaps on the ground.  

That was when they heard the one-shots go off.  

*** 

Alis grabbed the radio off the table. Even Hav’Un stopped talking as the voices spilled out over the airwaves.  

“We will just go take him for ourselves.” It was the voice of the man Caid called Rawn.  

Things were quiet for a moment, only the sound of scraping could be heard. Then Alis heard someone pouring themselves a drink.  

“It will be easy enough, and I don’t expect they will be waiting for a direct attack. I still think we have them reeling from our prior attempt in Cros square,” Rawn said.  

“What about the overseer?” This voice belonged to the other man Caid talked about, Maddog. This was the man who Alis had seen almost kill Caid before she saved him.  

She had been watching Caid and Maddog for quite some time in that building above the stage where Creft gave his speech. She wondered what two men were doing so high above everything. It took until she saw two men trying to kill Caid before she decided she would interfere with something she normally would have kept away from.  

“The overseer is something we can deal with later. I should have never gotten us involved in this damn mess. I would never tell the man to his face, but Caid was probably right. It is best that the Wardens stay out of the political world. Not that Caid will have time to gloat once he is dead.” 

Alis felt her heart jump at Caid’s name. This faction he used to call family was bent on destroying everything he loved and cherished, including his life.  

“Why do these men hate Caid so much?” Hav’Un asked.  

Alis shot her hand up into the air, as if it were spring-loaded. “Quiet,” she said, instantly regretting being so forceful.  

She had a lot of respect for Hav’Un and for all her elders within the slaves, but she really wanted to hear an uninterrupted transmission of what Rawn, and his lackey were planning on doing to Caid¾or to the city.  

Surprisingly enough, Hav’Un stayed quiet, and he showed no displeasure at Alis for her brash response to his question.  

“When do we take out Caid?” Maddog asked.  

“It seems if we wait long enough, we can kill two birds with one stone. Caid tried to rally the slaves in Oranaos, but we can guess how that ended. Slaves aren’t meant to rally or rebel, so they told Maddoc their own plans. It seems that the hanging slaves had some effect on at least some smarter ones. So Caid’s little rebellion is dead, but if I know Caid, he is still scheming. Perhaps taking out Caid will be as easy as waiting for him to do himself in,” Rawn laughed. 

Alis felt her fists clenching. Rawn and Maddog would have to do more than wait for Caid to fail because Caid was too smart for that. He was too smart to trap himself. He would defeat the uprising Pryce had created and he would find the overseer and Creft. After that was done, he would free the slaves and kill the wardens who betrayed him. Alis felt her face growing hot at the thoughts swirling in her mind.  

“The slaves told on themselves,” Hav’Un whispered to himself, but Alis heard him clearly.  

She heard those words as Rawn had spoken them, but she grazed over them, not processing them until Hav’Un repeated them aloud. The slaves turned on their own kind, telling Maddoc about the rally. They sabotaged their own chance at freedom, all out of fear.  

“Get me some more brandy, would you, Maddog?” Rawn said. “Tonight, we will drink, and tomorrow we will finish this nonsense once and for all.”  

Alis was too busy thinking about how her own family¾her own tribe¾had done the same as the Wardens. They left all the men and women who joined the cause to die. They fell across a sword they propped up themselves. Alis felt her heavy heart drop into her stomach and wondered if anything at all was worth it anymore.  

*** 

Caid disliked many things in life, including spiders, the way dust made his eyes swell, and hangovers after a long night of drinking. However, there was nothing in the world that compared to being shot at, which was at the top of the list for things he hated. He hated the deafening sound of the one-shot going off, followed by the sudden tensing of his body, making it almost impossible to dodge the bullet. He also hated the idea of being shot by a ball of iron from a smoking gun, which he considered one of the most impersonal ways to go.  

Caid, luckily, was a warden, and he had a special way to avoid being taken out by a chunk of flying metal. Caid pulled the power from his daliwin, surrounding himself with a wall-like invisible barrier that would deflect the bullet straight into the ground.  

“Hurry before they can reload,” Caid called to Creaton.  

Caid dropped the held energy and was at the woman’s throat faster than it took to reload one of the one-shots. The woman let out a shrill squeal, trying to break free of his grasp by falling to her bottom. Caid held on to her shirt, hearing the fabric rip.  

“Please don’t kill me,” the woman said pleadingly. “Before this week, I was but a yellow ribbon follower of the Nine Wardens and their word. I don’t want to go to Anell! Not yet, I need time to repent.” Tears streamed down the woman’s face. 

Caid thought about letting her go, but he thought better of it. This woman had been willing to kill him just a moment ago, and he doubted she had changed her mind so quickly. Using his free hand, Caid grabbed the one-shot from her. 

“Maybe you should heed to your own words.” Caid flipped the gun around, striking the woman on the top of the head with the butt. “But not until you wake up.”  

He turned around to find Creaton grimacing in pain. One of the flying balls of death had wounded Creaton in his arm. He hadn’t gotten back to his feet after presumably diving to avoid the bullets.  

“How’s that feel?” Caid asked sarcastically.  

Creaton grunted, not feeling an answer was warranted, and being in too much pain to fuel the banter.  

Caid was about to bend down to check Creaton’s wound when he heard footsteps behind him; he suddenly remembered there had been two shooters. Caid threw up the invisible shield again and, again the blast rang in his ears. The shot would have been true had the shield not deflected it to the ground. The woman let out a holler that was more cat like than human. 

Caid saw his sword lying merely a foot away from Creaton’s left leg; he stretched out, grabbing it just in time to turn around and punch her in the ribs. The woman flew back, her chest heaving; more than likely she now had a few broken ribs.  

Caid reached out with the empty vial he had brought with him. First, he ran it across Creaton’s cheek. Then he drew it across Creaton’s arm where the blood spilled freely into the vial. Lastly, Caid ran it across Creaton’s forehead, capturing the last ingredient the daliwin would need.  

“This is our guide,” Caid said, shaking the vial to mix the ingredients.  

The daliwin wasn’t only about the items filling the vial. What Caid had told neither Creaton nor Alis was that the vial was supposed to be the calling to the Nine Wardens who could send their powers through the barrier and into the substances inside the daliwin. Those substances were made up of the person and thus, the warden was made.  

Caid held out the compass daliwin to Creaton. While it wouldn’t offer him any power it would guide him.  

Creaton gritted his teeth, taking it into his hand. “How does the damn thing work?” He was breathing heavily now.  

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, and I will teach you how a warden finds himself.”