Peter Newman - The Malice

From the back, a voice murmurs. ‘And so it was, for Gamma knew when to strike and when to hold back.’

‘And so it was,’ intone the others.

Vesper nods, finding a little confidence. ‘You can’t beat them today. Gamma doesn’t want any more of you to die. If you surrender, you can live on. And when the time is right, you can fight again.’

‘But what about our swords? They cannot be replaced.’

A bead of sweat escapes Vesper’s hairline. ‘I’m sorry, Gamma didn’t say anything about the swords.’ A muttering passes between the assembled knights and she quickly adds, ‘Maybe they can be remade. With The Seven’s grace.’

‘With The Seven’s grace,’ they echo, but another question drowns it out: ‘What about the knights? The First won’t let them go.’

‘They’ll be prisoners, yes, but they’ll be alive.’

One of the older knights looks up. ‘You won’t forget us?’

Caught in the veteran’s gaze, Vesper finds herself speaking. ‘I’ll come back for you. I mean, Gamma will, I promise.’

The old knight salutes and others follow. ‘So be it. But I beg you, give our sacrifice here meaning.’ His eyes hold hers as he speaks. ‘Make it count.’

‘I will,’ she says, meaning it.

Genner stands up. ‘Gamma has shown us the way. The bearer will go south to finish the mission. It is our job to make that possible.

‘We will stall the First here as long as we can while the bearer escapes. Demolitions, we need an exit and we need it now.’

A hand goes up. ‘The moment we start blasting, they’ll be on us.’

‘No,’ the old knight replies. ‘They won’t hear a thing. The death song of our blades will drown you out.’

Genner nods. ‘Good. Go to it then.’ While soldiers spring into action and knights prepare their farewells, Genner kneels before Vesper. ‘I’m sorry things have turned out this way. We have a contact in Sonorous. Another of the Lenses. She will help you to escape.’

‘You’re not coming with me?’

‘No. I need to report to the Winged Eye and communicate with our allies here. They need to know what you’re doing if they’re going to help.’

‘Can’t you do that and come with us?’

‘No. When I send the signal, I’ll draw too much attention.’

‘You won’t …’

‘Die? It doesn’t matter about me. The sword is what matters.’

Vesper bites her lip, blinks hard.

Genner’s face softens. ‘If it makes you feel better, I’m not planning on it. If I can escape, I will. And don’t worry, you won’t be alone. I’m sending Duet with you.’

‘Okay.’

‘Yes. Now get yourself ready. You’ve a long swim ahead of you.’ Genner turns to go but is stopped by a lip, trembling. ‘Here,’ he says, ‘we need to fasten the sword to you. May I?’

‘Yes,’ replies the girl.

‘It’s too big to sit by your waist, you’ll have to strap it to your back. If you wrap it and hold it in place, I’ll secure it for you.’

Vesper does as she’s told, relieved to cover the sword up again. Genner takes his time, careful not to touch the sword itself. ‘There. All done. How does that feel?’

‘That’s fine.’

‘There’s one more thing.’ He takes his pistol from its holster and presses it into Vesper’s hand, singing softly, secretly. Light glows from Genner’s palm, flowing around the grip, growing with the note, then fading with it. ‘I’ve keyed the gun to you now. Keep it safe and out of sight.’ Vesper nods, slipping it away into the pocket of her coat. ‘And do the same yourself, for all our sakes.’

Duet presses the foam into Vesper’s ears, covers them with her hands.

One of the knights raises her sword towards Vesper, then the sky. A final salute.

On instinct, Vesper closes her eyes.

The knight brings it down hard but the angle is wrong. Sparks fly and metal screeches. People flinch and grit their teeth.

Her sword doesn’t break.

She screams and lifts it once more. This time, her aim is true.

Even through the layers of protection, Vesper feels the sound cutting through her, the sensation sharp enough that she checks herself, half expecting to be injured. She also feels the explosion, more mundane, as demolition charges punch through stone.

Outside, the First sits motionless. Within its shell, essence ripples, pleased.

Inside the shelter, more knights come forward, a queue of mourners, faces stiff with grief. Swords are raised in salute.

Vesper manages a quick bow before Duet steers her to the newly made hole, still smoking. She peers down, hears water sloshing in the darkness.

Duet presses a mask to Vesper’s face. Clear plastic that covers her from forehead to chin. The mask adheres instantly, misting over briefly, then correcting, clearing.

Genner smiles at the girl, salutes and jumps down the hole. Red hair waves briefly and is gone.

Vesper mumbles something in return but, through the mask, through the breaking of steel, through the last song of the knight’s weapons, her words are lost.

Duet lowers one of herself into the hole. The other helps Vesper, then follows. They slide and climb their way down, the tunnel trembling around them as more swords are shattered above.

Stone is cold but water is colder, smacking legs in the darkness, stealing sensation. Vesper tries to pause, to prepare herself but Duet’s boots say otherwise, finding shoulders, urging her on.

Rigid with fear and cold, the girl allows herself to be pushed by Duet, pulled by her, handled through the tunnel and out into wider waters. Away from the rock, light finds its way underwater in fingers of red and gold, like two hands reaching from the heavens. They follow the shafts as if lifted by them, up, up and up, until heads break the surface, bobbing at the cliff’s base.

Too heavy to swim easily, Duet drags herself and Vesper along the rocks. It is slow jerky progress, punctuated by bumps, by numb fingers slipping on slick stone, by chattering teeth and unbidden grunts of exertion.

Behind them, perched high on a ledge like a black spider, tiny, Genner begins to signal, shining a light towards the sky that flicks on and off. Code flashes, fast and complex, baffling the uninitiated.

But even the most foolish can understand that a message is being sent and even the most foolish can trace the signal to its source. Before Genner has finished, a sky-ship rises above the rocks. It rotates slowly, opening a side door. A figure climbs out, dressed in black armour and loose black fabric and throws itself into the air without fear. Another fragment of the First.

It plummets, arms spread starfish wide, getting faster and faster until it passes Genner, plucking him from the rock face.

For a long three seconds, they fall. Water splashes, surging up in a circle. Then nothing.

*

In the streets of Sonorous, in a rusting house, a woman watches a window. She reads the distant winking light, stuttering on the underside of the clouds.

When it is finished, the woman stands up, snatches a bag hidden beneath a dusty sheet and goes to the door. She glances out. It is eerily quiet. People hide in their homes, in their workplaces. Too-calm voices speak at intervals, suggesting people stay safe, reassuring that everything is under control.

The woman smirks at that, then moves into the street, closing the door behind her. As she walks towards the docks, a figure peels itself from the shadows and follows.

She hears the footsteps getting closer. She considers running but checks the instinct. Instead preparing the dart hidden beneath the skin of her wrist.

Gradually, the second figure catches up with her, falls into step alongside.

The woman wraps her arms around herself as if cold. Seemingly by coincidence, her wrist now points towards the figure’s neck.