The Last of the Ageless Page 14

  Soledad chuckled, and Korreth smiled in spite of himself—despite her other flaws, she didn’t lack courage. “We do have one advantage. He’s tied to one age, bound to his cybernetics. I think he’s collected technology from multiple Ageless—he had to, in order to pull off what he’s done. He’s probably been experimenting on himself for a long time, which would explain why you stopped being able to track him all those years ago.”

  Kaia said, “Yes, although… Those K’inTesh relics his followers are wearing transmit a signal, too. I might be able to track them like I track the Ageless.”

  Korreth remembered they’d used the word “K’inTesh” once before, though he still wasn’t sure what it meant.

  Soledad’s voice was low. “Are you saying someone used your tracking devices as a prototype?”

  “I can’t be sure which came first,” Kaia said. “I wasn’t part of the development team for the tracking devices before the Catastrophe. Afterward, I gave them to each of you, but I didn’t fully understand their potential, then or now. As the Prophet intended.”

  “Yes, fine. The important thing is, you can track Zen’s slaves, right? The ones who took Gryid?”

  “That’s what I was working on before you interrupted.”

  Korreth bit his tongue to keep from chuckling. Hearing someone talk down to Soledad was a nice change.

  “Well,” Soledad said. “No one, feline or otherwise, accompanied Zen when he attacked Cerrit, so perhaps they’re somewhere else. Guarding Gryid, maybe, if he’s still alive.”

  The device crackled. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Kaia, I need to know—”

  “We’re not supposed to fight amongst ourselves. Our primary—”

  “What exactly do you think will happen when Zen comes after you?” Soledad said in a rush. “He’ll get what he wants, or he’ll take it; unless you help me stop him first. The Prophet didn’t want us to cross-pollinate our tech, but I’m sure he would’ve wanted us to warn each other in a situation like this.”

  “Look…” A deep intake of breath. “Now we know for sure Zen killed Cerrit, which probably means the others are dead too. Including Gryid. He fell off my radar not long after he was kidnapped.”

  “Let me find out for sure before you just write him off!” The tent shivered, and Korreth jumped away, afraid Soledad would find him eavesdropping. He crawled back over to his bedding. Jorrim put his arm out over the edge of the cot, a silent invitation for Korreth to tell him what had happened, but Korreth settled down on the ground first. He waited to see if Soledad would come inside before he reached a hand up to tap out what he’d overheard.

  When he finished, Jorrim tapped a reply, She can’t trust others. We’re in trouble. Too many enemies.

  Korreth had nothing to say to that. He let his hand drop and rolled away to go back to sleep. Just as he felt himself drifting off, the tent flap opened and Soledad ducked inside with a candle.

  “Korreth, wake up. It’s your turn at watch.”

  Korreth stretched and took the crossbow from her. Though he’d expected Soledad to kick Jorrim out of the cot, she bedded down on the ground where Korreth had lain.

  “Thank you, mistress,” Korreth whispered, watching her in the candlelight.

  “For what?”

  “For taking the middle watch so Jorrim and I could each get uninterrupted rest.” He figured a little goodwill might go a long way, after recent events.

  “Well, I don’t need quite as much rest as the two of you do,” she said from beneath her covers.

  For a long while, Korreth listened to the sound of Jorrim and Soledad breathing. Soledad’s inhalations became deep and regular, but Korreth waited a few minutes longer before venturing outside.

  With his hand on the tent flap, Korreth thought about what he would say if she awakened. Something about answering nature’s call should work. After all, nothing in her spell forbade them from lying.

  No protestation came when he opened the door, stepped outside, and tied it closed behind him. He gripped a crossbow and let his eyes acclimate to the predawn darkness.

  Jorrim had tried a brute-force test of Soledad’s powers, but Korreth suspected an easier escape might exist. When she’d first ensorcelled them, they’d been too rundown to think clearly about escape strategies. If Korreth’s theory proved correct, he’d lead Jorrim to freedom the next time their mistress slept. Could it be that simple?

  The crescent moon lit the grassy path as he traveled due west of the tent. Keeping away from the forest, his line of sight remained wide open to avoid a potential ambush by person or beast. Though his eyes remained vigilant, Korreth’s mind wandered. He thought about what it would be like to see his kids, now grown. His son would be on the cusp of manhood. His daughter… well, he might be a grandfather already.

  Korreth imagined explaining his long absence to their mothers and divulging the how he’d been an unwilling party to the creation of the most dangerous Changeling army ever to exist. Once he told them where the Badlands Army planned to march first, he doubted they’d want anything to do with him, but his concern for the wellbeing of his children dwarfed any fear of being ostracized.

  Circling their tent, Korreth tested the limits of Soledad’s enchantment. No matter which direction he chose, he eventually reached an invisible boundary that strangled the air from his lungs. By the time he made it to the eastern edge of his prison, his strength had waned.

  The final time the wind crushed the air from his lungs, Korreth felt something shatter in his heart. He threw himself backward, away from the wall of wind, and landed on his back. His hands patted his chest and ribs but detected no wounds. Unable to contain his fury and disappointment, he let out a choked bellow of frustration. He stared at the starry sky while he regained control.

  “You win this round.” Korreth surrendered, making his way back to camp.

  The wind tickled past playfully, lightening his step and speeding him along the path. It stilled when he reached the tent. As carefully as before, Korreth untied the tent flap.

  The dim moonlight illuminated his mistress’s face. She had regressed to a child, her expression carefree, the picture of innocence. Even in sleep, her spell remained active. He’d been a fool to think otherwise.

  The candle had melted to a stub, but Korreth grabbed it and unzipped one of the bags to reveal pistols and knives. Some of them were throwing knives. Korreth’s blood surged, making him struggle not to unzip the next bag too quickly and risk awakening his mistress.

  The only solution was to find a way to kill her without triggering the spell, but each bag yielded only the obvious weapons. Korreth examined a smaller case containing dozens of tiny black vials.

  “I also got you both an SCL,” Soledad said.

  Korreth jumped, his heart racing. “I—I just wanted to see if we had anything to use against a man made of metal.”

  Now a teenage girl with beads in her hair, Soledad said, “Not much. Cerrit had no dominion over explosives. I hope the SCLs will prove useful, though.” She rattled the frame of the cot. “Wake up, Jorrim.”

  “Who?” Jorrim rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Oh.”

  “Put this on.” She tossed them each a bandolier belt combination. “You’ll be able to store the ammunition for your main gun on those. I want each of you to carry three weapons at all times, and always one in hand.”

  Soledad strapped on a bandolier as well. She holstered a handgun and stepped through the tent flap. “I’ll show you how to use the SCLs.”

  To Korreth’s surprise, Jorrim didn’t hesitate or question her. He shrugged off his blankets and followed Korreth outside.

  “You’ll grip it here with your left hand,” Soledad put a long-barreled rifle into Korreth’s hand, then pointed at a small nearby tree. “Try it out.”

  When Korreth pulled the trigger, the weapon pushed into his shoulder, and a red ball flew out. It hit its target, exploding into a larger red ball of flame. Korreth approached the tree; the exp
losion had incinerated a large area, leaving a wound about four inches deep and just as wide in the trunk.

  Jorrim followed Korreth over to inspect it. “And what did you say SCL stands for?”

  “SCL… Something cannon launcher, I don’t remember.” Soledad’s words rushed on, “Regardless, as you can see, it would be very effective against a human target. Maybe even a cyborg one.”

  “Tell us, Sole—mistress,” Korreth said. Outside of anyone else’s hearing range, the spell enforced her original command. He coughed and continued, “What exactly does ‘cybernetics’ mean?”

  Soledad’s eyes darted between the two of them. “It’s hard to explain, other than to say that Zen is now part man, and part something else. Mostly machine. Apparently he’s gone mad. He’s sacrificed his Changeling power—to age like the rest of us—to become a cyborg.”

  She held up a hand to forestall further questions. “If he’s the one who’s been picking us off, then he’s probably amassed quite a number of interesting skills.”

  She handed Jorrim the crossbow.

  When Jorrim made no move to take it, she asked, “What?”

  “Korreth gets the SCL, and I get the crossbow?”

  Korreth and Soledad both laughed while Jorrim looked sidelong at their mistress, as though he’d suddenly remembered something. When Korreth tried to catch Jorrim’s gaze, his friend stared at the ground.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll wish a crossbow was all you had to carry. So you should practice.”

  Jorrim handed her back the crossbow. “I know how to use one of these already.”

  “Then try the gun. Or have you handled weapons like those as well?”

  Korreth tipped his head. “Our old Changeling masters thought using Ancient technology was weak. Weapons were for lesser Changelings and Purebreeds. And of course, slaves weren’t permitted weapons.”

  Soledad snorted. “Only a fool refuses to use all the weapons at his disposal. Especially if they intend to raise an army. They could’ve used you as front-line mercenaries.”

  Korreth glanced at Jorrim, but his expression revealed nothing. Jorrim took aim at another tree.

  Soledad watched the energy ball smack into another tree, splitting its bole in half. “And you said you hadn’t used weapons like these before.”

  Korreth smiled despite himself. “We used plenty of other weapons before the Badlands Army enslaved us.”

  “Good. No need to practice, then. Let’s move out.” Jorrim stepped forward so quickly Korreth wondered if her spell had moved him.

  She ducked into the tent. When she came back out with all their bedding, Korreth collapsed the tent.

  “We can eat while we walk,” Soledad said as they broke camp. She headed west.

  “Wait.” Korreth paused. “Zen hasn’t come after us so far. He would’ve caught up to us by now. Shouldn’t we go back and—”

  “What? Stay and help the yokels?” Soledad smirked. “Hardly. Come on. We’ve got to beat him to Mapleton.” Jorrim followed without a glance back.

  “But…” Korreth started. When he heard the wind whispering through the trees, he hurried to catch up to them, heeding the implicit threat. “Since Zen killed their tribemate, they’re his enemy, which makes those people your ally. Helping them might recruit them to your cause.”

  Soledad waved it away. “They’ll be too afraid to want revenge.” She smiled over her shoulder at him, her white teeth contrasting against her chestnut-brown skin. “The people of Mapleton, however… They think they can take down the feline if they outnumber her. They’re the ones I want to recruit, before Zen goes and slaughters them all.”

  The playful twinkle in her eye made Korreth tense. Jorrim pulled some nuts and berries from a pouch at his side and started eating.

  “Oh, silly me. I haven’t told you the news yet, have I?” She skipped along ahead of them, ebbing toward girlhood.

  The wind picked up, urging Korreth into a run. His step felt light, as though the wind was helping him along. Once they caught up to her, Jorrim fell into a normal pace beside Korreth, shoulder to shoulder.

  Jorrim grumbled, “Cut that out. I’m trying to eat. Gotta keep my strength up for whatever crazy plan you have.”

  Soledad danced around between the two of them with the boundless energy of a ten-year-old.

  “Last night I learned a friend of mine can trace the whereabouts of Zen’s slaves!” Her vocabulary was at odds with her childish excitement. “So I know right where they are. The best part is, they’re just a couple days’ walk away from Mapleton. Do you know what that means? Do you?” She giggled, tilting her head back to see her taller companions.

  “Grow up so you can talk proper,” Jorrim said through a mouthful of food. “We’ve got no idea what you’re babbling about.”

  Her girlish excitement faded. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Korreth had no idea what she meant, but her sudden change in size forced the two men to sidestep to make room for her between them. Her gray-green clothing returned to its previous size. “You two still walk in lockstep, do you know that?”

  Jorrim gulped water from one of the smaller bladders. “You were saying?”

  “Basically, it appears Zen sent his feline slave to retrieve the necklaces—which are actually tracking devices—from Gryid’s hut, and create a distraction. Then he sent in another slave to kidnap Gryid and take him back to Zen’s lair, right?”

  They both nodded.

  “Well, my friend Kaia can use the necklaces to our benefit. We can track Zen’s slaves!” She looked back and forth between them as though she expected them to be excited by this news. “Now, I know you’re upset we’re not helping out Cerrit’s clan, but they’ll be fine. What we can do is offer vengeance to the people of Mapleton.”

  “How many are there?” Jorrim asked.

  “How many what?” She blinked.

  “How many pawns does Zen have?”

  Soledad shrugged. “I’m not sure. Kaia sees three necklaces, but those may be the ringleaders.”

  Jorrim raised an eyebrow. “The what?”

  Korreth wondered if ringleader meant a type of overlord above a tribe leader.

  “The leaders.” The beads in Soledad’s hair rattled together. “The three commanding the rest of Zen’s slaves.”

  “And Zen himself?” Jorrim asked. “I assume you eventually expect us to confront him. I’d like to know how you imagine we can fight that thing and survive.”

  Korreth glared at him, wondering why he’d brought it up. Killing off his pawns might distract Soledad from provoking Zen, thus prolonging Jorrim and Korreth’s lives until they could gain freedom once more.

  The air whistled through the gaps in her teeth. “I thought at least Korreth would be happy about this. We can help some people.”

  Korreth stared into her eyes. “There’s nothing good about this. You can’t even tell us how many pawns Zen could send against us. Everyone in Mapleton could die. We could die. This isn’t our fight, but you want us to risk not only our lives, but to persuade others to do so as well—people who aren’t as equipped as we are for what’s to come.”

  Jorrim caught Korreth’s eye and nodded his approval. Their mistress had driven a wedge between them, but Korreth vowed not to forget again who they were to her. Jorrim was right: she was their true enemy.

  Soledad frowned and pushed onward, leaving them shoulder to shoulder again. The occasional borderlands shrub or tree dotted the endless horizon ahead. Korreth tapped on Jorrim’s shoulder, telling him about his midnight test of Soledad’s spell.

  You leave without me? Jorrim’s eyes burned into Korreth.

  Of course not. Anyway, no luck.

  “It’s time we hurry along,” Soledad said. “So run!”

  As soon as she commanded it, Korreth surged forward as if borne by the wind itself. Their previous masters had encouraged endurance, but his stride lengthened more than ever. His lungs seemed to process air more efficiently, an
d his muscles didn’t tire until night approached. Though they’d jogged most of the day, only Jorrim and Korreth’s breathing became more ragged. Soledad moved through ages like water.

  “There’s no time to waste,” Soledad said as night fell. “We’ll stop to eat at Mapleton.”

  When they reached Mapleton, Soledad was still a teenager, the same age she’d used when they’d last visited. A two-man patrol met them at a distance from the village.

  Korreth tapped on Jorrim’s shoulder. They’re more cautious now.

  About time, Jorrim tapped back.

  “Who are you? You got something to trade?” The man who spoke carried a crossbow.

  “No. I’m not sure we’ve met—” Soledad began. “About three days ago, we spoke to Farlen and Olix about what happened to your village. You see, the same thing had happened to ours—”

  “Screw your story, girl,” the other man said. “By my recollection, we kicked you and yours right out.”

  “As I was saying...” a hint of teenage petulance crept into her tone. Korreth wondered how much of it was calculated. “When we were here last time, we told Farlen and Olix we wanted revenge. I thought you wanted the same. We’re here to tell you, we know exactly where the Changeling woman is. You know, the one who burned down your village?”

  The men glanced at each other, wearing identical worried expressions. “Come on, then,” the one with the crossbow said.

  As Korreth followed, he noticed they’d either salvaged or eliminated most of the ruins. Two new buildings stood in place of burnt old ones. Now another Changeling threatened the survivors of Mapleton; but the villagers didn’t know that if Soledad got her way, she’d lead them all to their deaths alongside him and Jorrim.

  Lor ducked out from a nearby hut and eyeballed them up and down before one of the patrolmen knocked on the door to a house closer to the iron sphere. The door opened and Olix stepped out, eyes wide. He and the patrolmen exchanged words under their breath.

  “We’s headed back to patrolling now, Olix. Let us know.”

  Olix motioned to Soledad. “C’mon. It’s almost dark.”

  He led them to one of the newer huts at the edge of the village. Korreth had to duck, and Jorrim’s head barely cleared the doorway. Compared to Cerrit’s cabin, the cramped space put them in close quarters. They sat on the rug covering bare ground.