Blacklight Born, page 9
“Well, not to brag, but you do have Murray Pearson to watch it for you.”
Yahalo eyed Murray carefully before acquiescing. “All right, I’ll be quick!”
As soon as Yahalo turned the corner, Murray started for the lift.
“Where are you going?” Farmer’s soft voice made Murray stop in his tracks.
“Where do you think I’m going?” Murray said. “Down there.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Farmer replied.
“You used to know me,” Murray growled. “And I’ll tell you, I haven’t changed much over these years. Have you ever known me as one to only follow good ideas?”
“No, I haven’t,” Farmer said as he took a step toward Murray. “But I’ve also known you to not be entirely suicidal. You go down that lift right now, you’ll be dead before it rises back to this floor.”
“Well, maybe some things do darkin’ change,” Murray said. “I don’t care too much about ending up dead nowadays, that’s for sure.”
“Back at the bar, do you remember what I told you?” Farmer asked. “Your path isn’t over yet. Don’t throw it away, Murray.”
“I don’t consider rescuing the kids trapped down below as throwing anything away.” Murray kept his voice low. He watched Farmer quickly glance at the viewport posted above.
“That’s only storage down there, Murray,” Farmer whispered.
“So, the Lord has a Sentinel watching over protein packs and washcloths all night. That so?” Murray said.
“That’s so.” Farmer met Murray’s eyes and held the stare. Though the man’s eyes had dulled and his face had sunken in, Murray saw a glimmer of something there. Maybe it was some last vestige of hope, some naïve seed planted within Murray that good people stayed good. That this man he’d looked up to his whole life, one who’d taught him so much about living, could see the truth beyond this game of pawns and lords that they played at each day.
“How can you do this?” Murray’s voice shook. “How do you wake up every morning, get yourself dressed, put down your mush and do this?”
“We do what we must to survive, Murray,” Farmer said.
“So, that’s what it’s all about?” Murray said. “Survival? Even if that means others getting put beneath the ground?”
“There’s always someone getting put beneath,” Farmer said. “That can’t stop us from waking up each morning and moving forward. There must be a balance.”
The hope Murray had seen again in Farmer dissipated, like a candle snuffed out. This was the man that had lived in the darkness of the Cradle for a decade. The man that had been a tool of the Minders, feeding on their black light like a leech.
“I’m not about to see these kids down this lift get put under,” Murray growled as he clenched his fists. “Even if it means making your survival a little less likely.”
Murray hadn’t fought Farmer since he’d graduated the Lyceum, since he was a fresh-eyed Knight. It hadn’t gone well for Murray back then. Farmer had been lightning-fast, sinuous like a whip and a master tactician. But that man was gone. And this man was standing between Murray and Sam.
As Murray was ready to make his move, he saw Yahalo scramble back down the hall, a gleaming bottle of sweet wine in hand.
“Captain Farmer!” The kid slid to a halt and stood at attention, the wine bottle behind his back. “I um…didn’t know you’d be paying a visit. I promise, I only left for a moment—”
“Not a worry, Yahalo.” Farmer nodded. “Murray here let me know he was watching your post while you investigated a disturbance out at the front gates. Thank you.”
Yahalo glanced at Murray and back to Farmer.
“Yes, yes, nothing to report,” the kid stammered.
“Good, then,” Farmer said as he met Murray’s eyes once more before silently walking back down the hall.
“Hope that gal in the city was worth it,” Yahalo murmured as he handed the wine over to Murray.
*
Sol’s massive red roc streaked across the desert as if the sand were on fire.
Brynn followed not too far behind on her lithe black bird, with Knees and Dozer behind her atop their plump brown mount. Murray’s bird had taken a wrong turn into the underbrush surrounding the nearby oasis.
Sol looked over her shoulder and saw the curly-haired Jadean gaining on her, kicking up sand as they both neared the finish. The grizzled man with steel legs, Hanrin, stood by a series of rocks to designate where the race would end.
“Let’s go, Akari!” Brynn yelled as she spurred her bird on. She nearly caught Sol, but Firenze leapt to the air, flapping his wings as if the little things would take his massive frame over the final hurdle.
“Firebird takes it!” Hanrin yelled as he waved his hands enthusiastically.
Brynn pulled up behind Sol and nodded begrudgingly. “Good run, Solara Halberd.”
“Your bird is fast.” Sol tried to offer a compliment, though she knew the Jadean girl would likely ignore it.
“Not as fast as yours,” Brynn said as Dozer and Knees crossed the rock line.
“Sol won?” Dozer asked as his bird wheeled around. “Wish I hadn’t bet my night’s rations on Brynn now.”
“She does have the advantage of riding a racing roc, probably only a few of his breed off the Isles.” Brynn frowned at Firenze.
“It’s true, then?” Dozer asked, out of breath though it’d been his roc doing the racing. “You stole that bird from a Daimyo Lord on Besayd?”
Sol nodded, accustomed to Dozer’s numerous questions about her travels. She stroked the ruffle of crimson feathers on the bird’s forehead. “Yes, Firenze was Lord Cantino’s prime roc.”
“Some of us need to ride what’s available, can’t take pick of prime rocs.” Brynn turned her bird away and guided it toward the oasis set at the bottom of a sloping dune.
“What’s with her?” Sol asked.
“She be a tad bit competitive, like yourself,” Knees said. “Don’t worry; she’ll warm up to you once she gets to know you.”
Sol understood the Jadean girl’s reluctance to show her warmth since they’d first met back in Venturi. Sol was the newcomer here, even though she’d been with the Whelps since they were level-ones at the Lyceum. But Sol had left them, spent a year on a journey to the Isles and then more time away at her family’s estate. To Brynn, Sol was an outsider.
“That, or maybe she’s taking a liking to you,” Dozer added as he winked at Sol.
“What do you mean?” Sol asked as her cheeks flushed.
“Don’t think Sol be her type, either,” Knees offered.
“So, who’s her type?” Dozer asked from behind the Venturian.
“Guess we’ll know when we see it,” Knees replied as a squawk emerged from the underbrush beside them. Murray burst out atop his grey bird, branches and leaves attached to both of them.
“Least you didn’t toss me this time, Bird,” Murray muttered as he patted his roc’s head. Sol found it strange to see the normally gruff Grievar showing affection to his grey mount. She noticed that the two were well paired, though, both with unruly grey tufts of hair and feathers sprouting from their heads.
“Let’s get these birds drink and feed before we move again,” Murray said as he guided his roc down after Brynn. Hanrin followed on foot, sliding down the sand dune with surprising agility on the uneven terrain. Sol had learned the disabled man needed neither pity nor help on their trek so far; Hanrin had jogged the entire journey across the desert alongside the crew mounted on rocs.
“Could use something to eat myself.” Dozer rubbed his stomach.
“You ate half our day’s rations this morning, you block,” Knees said.
“Can’t help I’m still growing,” Dozer said as they pulled up beside Brynn and dismounted in front of the shimmering body of water. The oasis was one of the few they’d encountered in the vast desert heading out of Venturi.
Sol still couldn’t believe she was back with the Whelps. After having spent so long on her own, it was strange seeing the familiar camaraderie between her friends.
“Knees.” Dozer turned to the Venturian. “Now that you’ve had some time to let it sink in that it was actually Sol who knocked you senseless in the Can, how do you feel?”
Knees held a hand to the welt still bulging from his forehead and smirked at Sol. “Besides this lump, glad it was her.”
“You could have taken the whole challenge, Sol!” Dozer splashed water onto his sweaty face. “Too bad Shimo went through all of us like that.”
Sol had replayed her fight with Shimo over and over in her head throughout the trek across the desert. She hadn’t lost like that since she’d faced Wraith, the mysterious rebel she’d met on the Isles. It was as if Shimo had always been a step ahead of her, as if he knew what she was going to do before it happened. It bothered her immensely that a fighter could dismantle her in such a way.
Sol smiled though and punched Knees in the shoulder. “Only reason I got through Knees was we’ve trained a thousand times together, so I knew his defenses pretty good.”
Brynn made a dismissive sound from by the water. Sol thought the Jadean would say something, but she remained quiet and tended to the rocs as they dipped their long necks down into the oasis for drinks.
The companions sat quietly by the oasis, filling their skins and enjoying the scant shade of a köat tree. The silence was nice, though it wasn’t long before Dozer started his interrogation again.
“So, how’d you do it?” the big kid asked.
“Um…how’d I do what?” Sol said.
“How’d you off the Lord?” Dozer attempted to keep his voice low, though it was hardly a whisper. “You punch the little blueblood in the throat or something?”
“Dozer,” Murray growled from beside him. “I’ve told you, what Solara’s been up to is none of your—”
“It’s okay, Murray-ku,” Sol responded. “I’m back with the team now. I don’t want to keep any secrets from them.”
“Seems like that will be difficult, considering how many secrets you’ve got,” Brynn muttered.
Though Sol was trying to be patient, she knew some wounds needed to be nipped before they could fester.
“Have you got something to say to me?” She stood from her crouch and turned to Brynn.
“Ooh…this should be good,” Dozer said as Brynn met Sol’s stare.
“We’re supposed to believe that you’re with us now, a part of the team?” Brynn spat on the sand. “After you’ve been off traveling the world in disguise for a year, wearing that bird mask, consorting with the rebels—”
“I’m not with the Flux,” Sol said flatly. “I was unwittingly brought in on one of their plans while I was on the Emerald.”
“Convenient,” Brynn said. “On the Jade we have a saying: If you’re in the water and see red and gold slither by you, you must believe it’s a poison sea snake. Because even if it’s a blind worm, better be cautious and wrong than stupid and dead.”
“So, that’s what you think?” Sol asked, holding her hands up in frustration. “You think I’ve had some plot all along to join up with the Flux on the Isles, then track you all down on Pilgrimage so I can, what—betray you for the Slayer and his rebels?”
Brynn stood with her arms crossed, her mouth flat. “You seem like you’ve got one too many secrets.”
“Solara is to be trusted,” Murray interjected, watching the exchange wearily. “She’s been with us for a while, just as you have, Brynn. And we all have our secrets to keep.”
Brynn wasn’t convinced, though she backed off at Murray’s glare and crouched to the water.
“Maybe now’s a good time to tell them, Coach,” Knees said from beside Murray. “While we’re on the talk of keeping secrets.”
“Not now, Knees.” Murray shook his head and did not meet the Venturian’s gaze.
“Tell us what?” Dozer looked up.
“Coach,” Knees said. “You be owing it to them.”
“You’re darkin’ right as usual, Knees.” Murray shook his head and breathed out heavily. He turned to the crew who were looking up at him expectantly.
“I’m not only here to guide you kids on Pilgrimage,” Murray said. “I’m here to find Cego.”
“I knew it!” Dozer hooted and splashed a hand into the water in front of him. “Knew you wouldn’t let our boy down!”
Relief flooded Sol. She’d not spoken of her motive for coming out to Kiroth and joining Pilgrimage either. After she’d buried her father, word had come to her estate of what had happened at the Lyceum. She’d learned that Cego had been taken to Arklight Prison before he was broken out by his brother Silas.
Sol had decided she wouldn’t return to the Lyceum. She’d decided to head north and find Cego as well.
“Now,” Murray said. “I don’t expect any of you to take on the burden with me, but when the time’s right, I plan on finding Cego out here and bringing him home.”
“And you be expecting us to keep on Pilgrimage?” Knees asked. “Fighting for scores and studies across Kiroth while you’re rescuing our friend? Forget that.”
“Right, forget that!” Dozer echoed his friend. “No way I’m leaving Cego if we know he’s out there.”
Murray sighed, as if he’d been expecting such a response from the loyal crew.
“I’ve got some information on where he might be,” Murray said. “The Flux activity is concentrated around the capital, Karstock. It’s rumored Silas is hiding in plain sight there, and Cego’s most often by his side.”
“I know,” Sol said. “That’s why I came out here, too.”
“See!” Brynn shook her head. “More secrets!”
“These be good secrets, though.” Knees put his hand on Brynn’s shoulder to calm her. “She’s here to help her friend. Just like all the rest of us, right?”
The Jadean girl took a deep breath. “Yes, spirits said, we best get that boy back to us.”
“It will be dangerous,” Murray said as he shook his head. “We’ll have to get through the Flux, through Silas to get to Cego. I took on this path, but none of you have to—”
“This be our path, too, Coach, and you know it,” Knees said.
“Cego would put his life on the line for us,” Dozer added. “We can’t let him go.”
“So, we’re all in, then.” Murray nodded in approval. “Tomorrow we head north through the desert to Karstock.”
*
Murray shook his head as Bird sniffed at the bucket before rearing up and snorting.
“You’re too good for darkin’ sand rats now?”
He held the bucket of dead rodents up.
“Yum, mousey,” Murray cooed in vain, as Bird pushed the bucket away with his beak and scratched at the sand with his talons.
“Firenze only likes his food live,” Sol said as she emerged from the darkness. The girl was carrying two long-tailed weasels over her shoulder, both blooded but still writhing. She held one up to the nostrils of her massive roc. The crimson bird lowered its head and opened its beak toward the stars. Sol tossed the squealing weasel into the air and Firenze snapped it up in one great bite.
“How’d you snag two live ones?” Murray chuckled.
“Been spending a lot of time camping these past few months,” Sol replied. “I moved with the Tanri every so often and learned much from them, but mostly, I needed to fend for myself.”
“Lot to learn from the Tanri,” Murray said.
Sol handed Murray the other weasel. “Give it a try.”
Murray held the morsel up to his roc’s beak. Bird stared at him skeptically before ripping the weasel from his hands. He tore the thing apart, leaving the sand bloodstained beneath him.
“Darkin’ picky,” Murray growled.
“Well, have you considered giving him a proper name?” Sol said. “Maybe Bird isn’t cutting it.”
“Brynn says the same thing,” Murray said. “Bird’s his proper name.”
The two walked back from where the rocs were tethered several meters from camp. The orange glow of the fire cut though the darkness.
“—but doesn’t that scare the Deep out of you?” Dozer’s voice was always the loudest, even out there in the vast desert.
“Yes, it be bothering me since I saw it,” Knees replied.
Murray held back and let Sol step forward into the clearing. The Whelps sat around the campfire on a bed of wide tafola leaves. Hanrin was snoring, looking comfortable on the sand with his prosthetics propped up on a rock.
“What’s been bothering you?” Sol interjected, as if she’d not been gone for over a year.
“Oh…erm…” Knees trailed off.
“Cego,” Brynn said flatly.
“But we have a plan now,” Sol said, sitting beside Dozer and popping a morsel of fennel corn into her mouth. “We talked it over all evening. We’ll find him; we’ll get him back.”
“You didn’t see it, Sol,” Dozer said. “You didn’t see him in Central Square against the Goliath last year. You didn’t see what happened to Joba.”
Sol watched the fire, frowning. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I could have done something, maybe prevented Joba from…”
Murray sighed, watching from the darkness beyond the illumination. He could have been there too. He could have done something. Instead, he’d been drunk and pissing himself on the Deep streets.
“You couldn’t have done shit, Sol,” Knees stood up, anger crackling in his voice. “The Goliath, you’ve heard about the thing, but you didn’t see it. It was a monster.”
Sol didn’t reply.
“I’m sorry still that I wasn’t there for you all,” her voice cracked.
“It’s okay,” Brynn said. “We didn’t need you there. As Knees said, nothing you could have done.”
Sol met Brynn’s eyes and shook her head.
“But the Goliath wasn’t the scary part of it all,” Dozer said. “Cego was.”
Knees nodded in agreement. “That be the truth. The way Cego transformed after the Enforcer blasted Joba. He became something else, tore into Goliath like a piece of meat. It was like that time in the final’s matches years ago, against Shiar. But worse.”
“How could he have done it?” Dozer said as he tossed a stick into the fire, sending embers crackling toward the stars. “I still think it’s impossible how it went down. I mean, we all knew Cego was the best of our crew, maybe even the best in class, but…the Goliath?”
