A Rift Between Cities (Arcera Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  Behind the barren sub-train station, there was an enormous opening between two walls, which was not hindered by a door of any kind. They could simply...walk in.

  He descended the ladder and rejoined his companions clustered on the track. Alice clutched her arms, shivering in her flowing sleeveless shirt. Everyone looked up at him as he dismounted.

  “It’s completely empty,” he announced quietly. “The hangar is just through the gateway. We’ll need to move fast, get to the hydrojets and—”

  “—do you know how to fly them?” Lena rasped.

  Atlan had to stop himself from rolling his eyes this time. “In theory,” he said shortly, then something in his chest gave way and he hissed in a stream of whispers, “Look, if you don’t like the way I’m doing things, why did you even want to come?”

  A palpable tension flooded the group and Lena balked. “I—I’m sorry, I just—” she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “Between you and Emrick, it’s been one guess after another. I like to know what’s going on!” she hissed and put her hands on her hips. “Have you any idea what you’re doing?” She fell silent, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

  Atlan clenched his hands into fists. They didn’t have time for this, and he said as much. “I’m sorry we didn’t fill you in more, but you wanted to come. Listen,” he said, looking directly into Lena’s eyes. “I got some information from—someone—about reaching the hydrojets. I was also told how to operate them. We’ve got maps to get us to Skycity, but it’s really going to be—” he paused, his ears pricking up.

  As one they all turned to look down the tunnel in the direction their sub-train had come from. The unmistakable sound of another train’s approach echoed down the dark tunnel, still too far away to see.

  “We’ll talk on the jet,” Atlan muttered, “right now, we need to get out of here. Everyone onto the platform,” he ordered. “Split up against the walls that led into the hangar. They’ll be waiting for us in there.”

  Twenty-Eight

  The man sitting across from Sorin was a spy.

  It had been a hard blow. He had trusted Onen for years, enough to consider him a friend.

  He should have learned his lesson five years ago when the woman he loved had left without a word—without letting him explain. He wouldn’t make the mistake of trusting anyone again.

  It had taken him an entire day to figure out what to do with Onen, but this afternoon Grebe had offered a surprisingly intelligent suggestion.

  Onen was bound at the hands, and he refused to look at Sorin, instead, focusing his angry gaze on the side wall.

  “I hear you’ve been talking to our other prisoner,” Sorin began. “Trading traitorous stories, I suppose.”

  Onen’s hatred was clear on his face. Sorin ground his teeth. Why must his own people make this so hard? That was why he had protected them from the harsh realities of the war—they just wouldn’t understand.

  “Her trial is tomorrow,” Sorin said, watching the emotions flicker across the old man’s face.

  “I’m glad you’ve become acquainted, but I’m afraid the friendship won’t last long. We cannot afford to let traitors live. If it weren’t for her and her friends—” he stopped. He didn’t need to divulge any more than he should.

  “At any rate, your trial will follow. I don’t think I need to explain what’s going to happen to another traitor.” Sorin was glad to see Onen’s throat bob visibly as he swallowed and grasped the seriousness of the situation.

  “Now, it might be in my power to lessen your sentence.”

  Finally, Onen looked up. Sorin smiled.

  “I just need you to get some information from a certain prisoner.”

  Twenty-Nine

  They split up against either side of the wide gateway into the hangar—Atlan, Lena, and Emrick on one side, Colin, Alice, and Talia on the other. Each had drawn their pilfered weapons, and they all crept toward the entrance, ears filling with the sound of the approaching sub-train.

  Atlan was almost relieved to see the two Black Knights just inside the hangar entrance, facing inward. The lack of resistance had been bothering him. He been wondering how deep of a trap they had been getting themselves into.

  Somehow, the Black Knights did not know the hangar was their intended destination. That was about to change.

  He signaled to the others. He and Colin, in the lead on either side, sped for the opening.

  Atlan tried to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible, but the Black Knight he approached at speed turned just before he reached her. Atlan slammed into her, bringing both of them to the ground, and sliding a good few feet in the process.

  Like snakes, her arms writhed about him, trying to get a grip, trying to disarm him. He managed to wriggle a hand over her mouth, and with his other, jabbed her side with the stunner, where it had been pressed under her when they fell.

  Her eyes flamed at him in anger, but he held the stunner into her side until the golden eyes at last flickered shut. He winced and extricated himself from the Knight.

  Busy with his own fight, he had completely forgotten about the other Black Knight, or indeed the rest of the hangar. He looked up just in time to see Colin smack the other Knight in the head with the flat of his axe. It was the final blow. The lanky man collapsed and Colin tried to help him to the ground instead of letting him fall flat on his face.

  The others had not been idle. Lena had led them ahead to where they now stood fighting another group of Black Knights, just outside an office containing even more guards. A long pipe had been shoved through the double handles of the door, and several trapped Knights were banging heartily on the safety glass with their axes.

  It was no question that their location had been brought to someone’s attention by now. Colin ran ahead to join the fight without question.

  Atlan turned to Alice, who had lingered behind. “Let’s get a jet.”

  They turned to look at the open hangar, but Atlan almost smacked into a wall of black datawoven fabric. The barrel chest of the captain of the Black Knights thoroughly blocked his way.

  The arms of Captain Barton clasped around Atlan’s biceps and nearly lifted him off the ground.

  Behind Barton’s well-oiled head of hair, Atlan could see the other sub-train idling at the station. His stomach thudded to his feet. His fight with the first Knight had pushed all thoughts of the pursuing sub-train out of his mind.

  “Atlan,” Barton growled. “Why am I not surprised?”

  Another Black Knight’s fist clamped down on Alice’s arm, and she yelped.

  Barton remained silent, a twisted grin upon his leering face. He seemed to be waiting for something. Atlan was sure he didn’t want to be here when it arrived.

  The shouting behind Atlan grew, where the others were still fighting.

  Suddenly, he heard a loud clang of metal, followed by the unmistakable sound of a pipe rolling across the floor. Atlan could only stare ahead, toward the open hangar, bound as he was by Barton’s unrelenting grip. A moment later, he jerked Atlan around to face the office, and his failure.

  His companions were on their knees, a row of Black Knights behind them, both parties looking altogether unhurt. Atlan swallowed past a hard lump in his throat as Barton shoved him forward, not toward his companions, but the open door of the office.

  Barton threw him into a chair, then slammed the door. Atlan dare not move. He clenched the armrests with strained fingers.

  Whatever happened to Alice, Colin, Emrick, Talia and Lena was his responsibility now. He almost wished none of them had come.

  But they had made it so far.

  The captain of the Knights prowled around the room, slowly touching each window panel to darken it.

  Atlan could hardly breathe, his heart was hammering like a drum inside his chest. No doubt Lady Naomi knew of his botched escape, and perhaps was already on her way here. He gritted his teeth and watched Barton darken the last window panel.

  They were so close.

  B
arton rounded on Atlan, who straightened in his chair.

  He wouldn’t give up until it was over. He was feet away from the hydrojets.

  If only Barton hadn’t gotten in their way. He stared daggers at him.

  “Branching out now, aren’t you?” Barton jerked his thumb toward where Atlan’s companions cowered outside. “Convinced some of your mates to help you? You’ve only gone and gotten them into trouble—worse trouble than you, I expect.”

  A fire started to burn in Atlan’s chest. He concentrated on his breathing, surprised it wasn’t the flames he felt should be issuing from the anger swelling deep inside him.

  “Shame they’ll all be tried for treason and assault, among other things. Kidnapping the lordling for one—since I can’t arrest you, that is.”

  The rage burst from Atlan’s chest then, erupting in flames that blinded him as he flung himself at Barton.

  Next he was flying headfirst into a counter along the wall, Barton having used his momentum against him. His fingers slipped on random papers as he tried to get a grip on the counter before smashing his head into it.

  Before he could even turn around, a foot in his back sent him to the floor.

  His hands slapped on the concrete, saving his head, but it was quickly jerked back by a tight cord around his neck.

  He stumbled to get his feet under him to relieve the tension on his neck, but Barton tightened the cord as they rose, making breathing impossible.

  Dark laughter filled the small room. “I’ve got centuries on you, boy. Did you really think a couple of teenagers could get past me?”

  Atlan dug his fingers into the cord, but found no purchase. He felt each pulse of blood as it moved painfully through his face, his eyes bulging. Dark spots popped into his vision, and he tried to gasp for air, making only a choking noise.

  Barton’s gravelly voice was by his ear. “This’ll be the last time. If I have my way, the only thing you’ll be leaving behind is the sunlight.”

  Atlan choked out another gasp, and everything went dark.

  * * *

  But his eyes were still open, he realized, and the cord substantially loosened around his neck.

  A grunt came from Barton, still looming behind him, and Atlan realized the lights had gone out.

  Atlan froze. Whatever was going on had caught Barton off guard, too, but the results of his last attempt to flea had taught him enough to stay still.

  “Ah!” the captain barked suddenly, and released him entirely.

  Atlan shuffled forward a few paces in the utter darkness, letting the cord drop. He heard Barton fall to his knees. What was going on?

  He stumbled into the chair as the sensation of an incoming link invaded his mind.

  Go, now!

  Atlan had never been happier in his life to hear that voice.

  Oliver? Atlan linked incredulously. Are you all right?

  Better than you—get going, you’ve no time at all!

  He spurred into action, stumbling toward where he thought the door was. Barton made no move to follow him. Atlan could only tell the captain was still on the floor, unmoving.

  What happened to Barton? he asked while he fumbled to find the door handle.

  He yanked it open, but was met with still more darkness. Several tiny white lights were the only thing he could see.

  He’s fine, Oliver replied.

  Atlan shrugged. Having choked out what he thought was his last breath only moments ago, he wasn’t too concerned about Barton at the moment.

  “Atlan?” a timid voice called through the darkness.

  “Alice? Is everyone all right? Are the Knights—?”

  “—Stunned?” said a voice.

  “—Dropped like rocks?” offered another, confirming Atlan’s suspicion.

  “Barton, too,” said Atlan. He rubbed his throat gingerly, feeling the indent in his skin from the cord.

  One of the tiny lights floated upward swiftly.

  “What are those lights?” he asked into the darkness.

  “The earlinks,” Emrick replied, from Atlan’s right. “Ours lit up when the lights when out. When the guards went down—I think something happened to their earlinks to make them drop.”

  Impressed, Atlan watched as the light to his right moved toward him, attached to Emrick’s voice.

  “Oliver’s work, I expect,” Atlan said to general surprise. “He’s back on the link.” He couldn’t help but smile.

  Then, turning inward, he returned to the link. Any idea how we get to the hydrojet in the dark?

  Of course I have an idea, Oliver supplied. Sorry about that, by the way, but there’s more coming your way down the sub-train.

  But there’s another sub-train blocking—, Atlan started.

  —and the doors can open between trains, Oliver interrupted. Don’t worry about that now. Get a move on, he ordered.

  With that, an unmistakable blue light began to glow deep in the hangar, where Atlan thought he remembered seeing a jet earlier.

  See it? Oliver asked, and Atlan told him he did.

  After navigating through the unconscious Black Knights, landing an occasional accidental or intentional kick as they passed, all six of them flocked toward the blue light like fireflies to a lamp.

  The blue light was coming from the open door of a hydrojet. All thoughts of his near suffocation and Barton’s threats disappeared as he stepped onto the open hatch. He wouldn’t celebrate just yet, though—not until they were in the air, away from Seascape.

  Five sets of footsteps followed him into the hydrojet, which flickered to life as it registered their movement.

  “We need to move,” Atlan said to his companions, all blinking in the sudden light, and grinning at each other. “There’s more coming, and we’re sitting here like a beacon.” Atlan squinted back at the still dark hangar, and thought he could see the lumpy shadows of the downed Knights.

  “But the tunnel’s blocked,” Lena argued.

  Atlan flapped a hand at her and shook his head. “We don’t have time. I’m going to find the bridge,” he told them.

  “Some of you stay here and get that hatch shut,” he called, already running and heading deeper inside the jet. He stifled a yawn. A quick glance over his shoulder told him Emrick and Alice followed.

  He wondered what time it was; two, maybe three in the morning?

  The bridge wasn’t hard to find. It ran the width of the jet, slightly wider than a train car, with enough room for six seats along the back wall, in addition to the two at front facing out an enormous window.

  The dimly glowing control panel was just as his father had described. All thoughts of tiredness burned away when he realized he would shortly be airborne, soaring north over Castle Tenny. Away from Lady Naomi, and away from Seascape.

  He sat down at the controls panel and placed his hands on the fine silver threads. The panel glowed to life, and he grinned. He danced his fingers over the datastrands to begin the exit sequence.

  Colin and the others returned from closing the hatch, and clustered around Atlan and the controls. Atlan could almost feel Oliver’s presence over the link, ready to help, should Atlan need it.

  But the controls worked as smoothly as his father had explained.

  While the hydrojet maneuvered onto the lift that would bring them up and out of the hangar, Atlan concentrated on finding the remaining control commands. He forged a connection between his earlink and each maneuver that he found, so his commands on the datastrands would execute the controls.

  A heavy jolt made him look up. The lift had stopped—they were outside.

  Perched high up on a rock formation out in the water, they watched the dark waves beat upon the shore of Seascape, no hint of stars or moon reflected in the water. The night had gone dark.

  With more than a little suspense, Atlan brushed his fingers across the silver datastrands, and the hydrogen engine roared to life in the heart of the jet.

  “Let’s go,” he announced, and sent them straight in
to the air.

  Thirty

  They were almost there. It had taken some getting used to, but Atlan was finally beginning to feel comfortable with the hydrojet’s controls.

  The map superimposed on his thoughts clearly outlined the mountain of Skycity, and where the Citizen’s Hall was perched.

  “Should we land, or circle ‘round?” Emrick asked, looking at the same map which Atlan had linked to him hours ago.

  The others in the back of the bridge stirred at the question, having grown quiet in the last hour. The night was surely catching up with them, as it was with Atlan. It was hard to imagine he had gotten this far since leaving his rooms to head for dinner at Emrick’s house.

  “Are we there?” Talia asked, covering a yawn.

  “Almost,” Emrick replied.

  “I’m going to circle around so we can get a better look at the building,” Atlan said monotonously, his mind immersed in the flight controls and map. “I’d rather not risk landing yet. We’ve got time before it gets light.”

  Colin and Talia joined them at the front of the bridge. Lena and Alice had fallen asleep, and still sat propped on one another’s shoulders.

  They could see nothing through the front window except the silhouette of the mountain, until tiny pins of light began to prick through the darkness. Atlan sent his fingers skimming across the exposed datastrands, and slowly turned the jet to the right.

  “Can you put it on an automatic flight path?” asked Emrick.

  “No,” Atlan replied. “I’m sure it’s possible though,” he grunted.

  “Let me try,” Emrick offered. “I’ve been doing this with the drones in my internship, it can’t be that different.”

  In his haste to get flying and away from Seascape, Atlan had entirely forgotten about Emrick’s internship. He muttered a few quiet instructions as he focused on holding the connection and the controls, then finally switched positions with Emrick.

  He collapsed into a nearby chair, exhaustion finally catching up with him. Emrick regained control over the jet and began to input commands with a confidence that made Atlan regret not switching sooner.