Everwinter: The Forerunner Archives (42 page)

"Really?" I look skyward at the falling flakes around us. It's difficult for me to imagine an
y amount of snow that could cause a whole building to collapse! I turn back to Ursa. "What about the part about there being a cure for the mutations that doesn't require my blood? Does that make sense to you? How would Jude know about such a thing?"

"Because he was lying," Altair interrupts us. He'd been lagging behind, checking to see if we were being followed probably, but now he's rejoined us. He says, "I agree that he's probably not working with the Children anymore, but whoever he
is
working for is likely setting a trap for us."

"No," Ursa interjects, frowning. "That's not it." She hesitates. "I think there's a chanc
e that someone has found the Box, as the Deacons mentioned to you, and that they have found a way to restore it to its original function. That's why they
think
they don't need your blood, Juno. They just need your DNA. Or Traylor’s since it’s so close to yours." Ursa pauses, considering. "But I find that very hard to believe. The Box would have had to have been altered by someone with scientific knowledge on par with my own, which makes the idea seem exceedingly unlikely."

She smirks to herself. Was that a self-aggrandizing joke?

"Could my Father have done it?" I ask bluntly but casually, as if the idea were a hypothetical just come to mind.

Ursa eyes me warily, taken completely off guard. "Um, yes, I suppose," she replies warily. "
He knew
everything
about our operations in Everwinter. But I thought you said he was dead, Juno?"

"I
think
that he's dead," I shoot back. I just..." I trail off.

Ursa scowls at me. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

I purse my lips and sigh.

There really is
no reason not to tell her.

"Jude claimed that my
Father sent him here. And to kidnap Traylor if we didn't do as he asked, apparently. I didn't believe him, and I still don't."

Ursa goes pale, as if she's just realized something. "We
have
to go to my lab now," she says.

"What? Why?"

Ursa shakes her head. "I have to check on something. If indeed what Jude said was true..." She trails off. "I think it best that you just trust me on this, Juno." She turns her head. "And you, Altair. My lab is only one district over from Stockton. It's practically on the way to the Evernight Skytower. We can get off the boat there."

"But, Traylor..." I protest.

"It won't take us but two hours more at the most," Ursa soothes. "Just believe me that it's of vital importance. I have to check on something that might give us the answers we're looking for."

Altair looks wary, but I trust this woman. "Okay," I say.

Altair shakes his head. "I don't like it. You're not going to like what you find there," he says. "This might be a very bad idea, Ursa."

Ursa scowls. "Do you know something I don't, Altair?"

Altair doesn't emote a reaction. "You’ll find the truth there," he states simply, "but it may not be truth you’re looking for." He turns away from us then, moving swiftly to the other side of the boat.

"What was that all about?" I ask.

"There's something he's obviously not telling us." Ursa stares after Altair. "He's more a part of this than we know, Juno." She hesitates. "I know you trust him, but there's something vital he hasn't been telling us from the beginning."

"Tell me about it," I agree.

We finally reach the bow and our worries about Altair are forgotten for the moment. 

We join a few other curious onlookers, leaning precariously over the front to get a look down at the ocean. We wait our turn, then step up on
to the little raised platform provided where the two sides of the ship come together in a perfect V. The wind stings me like salt in a wound, but my discomfort fades when I look down. The people on the docks below look like little living dolls, insects in a hive. The view makes me dizzy. Directly beneath my feet, the bow of the ship juts out severely, a sharp metal protuberance giving the appearance of a massive spear.

Ursa joins me on the platform. "What's that?" I ask, pointing at the strange addition to the prow of the boat.

"An icebreaker," Ursa replies.

She doesn't have to explain any further than that. "Neat!" I exclaim. Chunks
of broken ice crash violently against it in waves, creating a honeycomb pattern of ice platforms as far as the eye can see in the eternal darkness.

"How thick does the ice get?" I ask, like a child in school. "Does the ship ever get stuck?"

Ursa shrugs. "My knowledge is limited–I only used this ship a handful of times when I lived in Everwinter. But no. Not that I know of. The Xon travels frequently enough that the ice doesn't have time to reform before the ship cuts through it again." I nod, and a pang of sadness for Traylor assaults me again.

"Are you ladies about finished?" the familiar baritone of Altair asks from behind us.

I turn and roll my eyes at him. "You're such a buzzkill," I admonish. He crosses his arms in response. "Fine," I say, hopping down from the platform. "We're ready."

"I've managed to secure us a private bunker below," he continues. "I suggest we catch some rack time while we have the chance."

"Rack time?" I ask, laughing at him.

"He means sleep," Ursa explains. "Only soldiers use the term though."

"The longer I know you," I say to Altair, "the weirder you get."

"I get that a lot," he smirks, leading us away from the bow.

We head toward the massive, building sized structure at the far end of the ship. It's pocked with doors, windows, and stairs, people moving about them leisurely. We reach a door at the very bottom and step through, coming into a cramped space lined with pipes and a metal floor grating. My claustrophobia kicks in a bit, but it's nothing I can't handle. Covered candles light our way, the light made brighter by reflective metal set in behind them. We head deeper into the ship, coming to a few intersections populated by passengers and crew. We finally come to a stairwell, metal grated steps leading both upward and down.

Altair takes us down.

We descend and descend–I lose track of the flights–but I feel the weight of the structure above us as if it’s a physical thing with each step. We finally reach the bottom and enter another cramped hallway. Just when I think the confinement is more than I can take, we suddenly emerge into a massive, cavernous space, the ceiling above invisible in the murk.

We're in the belly of the ship.

The place smells strongly of grease and oil, and is lined with a series of large, rectangular boxes, all metal. I can only assume that these were once cargo containers, but now they only contain people. We head down the first row of containers, passengers milling about everywhere, some inside the containers, some out. A few small cook fires burn, and the smell of charring meat makes my mouth water.

When was the last time I ate?

I sneak a peek into as many containers as I can as we move, seeing that most are sparsely furnished with old battered cots or simple mattresses. We come to the container at the end of the row and Altair produces a key from his pocket, using it to pop the lock secured to the door. 
What had these accommodations cost him?
I wonder.
Another throwing star?

Altair pulls the door open and Ursa and I wait as he goes to work lighting the solitary candle within. Weak light fills the space, revealing two sagging mattresses
in each corner and nothing more.

"Come on in," Altair gestures.

We reluctantly do.

I head for the mattress in the far left corner and plunk down on it immediately. Ursa heads for the right one, leaving Altair to uncomfortably choose which of us he wishes to bunk with.

"Don't look at me," I wink at him cheekily, spreading myself out. "I called it first."

Altair frowns.

Ursa laughs. "Don't worry, Assassin, I don't bite." She pats the faded fabric beside her. Altair sighs and falls to Ursa's bed, bouncing a little then closing his eyes. Ursa and I exchange knowing smirks then we both lay back as well. A few minutes later, a loud, shrill whistle echoes to us from somewhere above.

I feel the ship rocking slightly.

We're setting off to sea.

Gods, how I want to be up there
to watch the City of Everwinter, with its myriad hive of glowing lights in the snow, fading away from the deck of the ship.

But it's just too damn cold and I'm just too damn tired.

I close my eyes and, with thoughts of Traylor occupying my mind, I'm out almost immediately.

60.

"Come at me then, if you can!" Halix taunts him.

He sneers, his grip tightening on his practice staff. Behind Halix, a massive red plain stretches to infinite, pocked here and there by craters and mounds, mesas and buttes. The sun reflects a dull, pale red into the atmosphere, making the sky appear crimson as well. 

"You're tempting fate, old man," he snaps back, taking a defensive posture in the Omnite stance, circling his opponent. Halix has a pair of katanas in each hand but, unlike his staff, they are not for practice.

They are real.

Halix laughs, deep and throaty. "You were my most promising student in nearly a decade, Altair! And you throw it away!" He
hesitates. "I give you once chance now. Call this off, and I will let you return to your training. In shame, of course. But you will not be cast out of Ma'adeem Vallis. You have but once chance to become an Assassin. When you fail, you will never be permitted to enter these halls again."

Halix gestures to the training ground around them. It's a dome, really, on the surface of the desert, transparent but for the steel buttresses that support the glass. Red earth crunches under
neath their boots as they circle one another inside a steep walled crater. On the lip of the bluffs around them, a cadre of Altair's fellow Assassin's in training watch expectantly. 

Navani is up there, somewhere
.

She
probably expects him to fail too.

"You know I cannot do that," Altair returns. "I am ready, Old Man, despite what you think. This will be the last day I call you teacher."

"Fool!" Halix snarls back, kicking at the dirt. "You have let yourself be goaded into this! But I can see there's no turning back for you. So be it." He flourishes his katanas. "Come at me then, if you can!"

Altair leaps forward, bouncing lightly from one foot to the other, spinning his entire body through the air. He keeps the
staff tucked tight, only swinging it outward in a deadly flourish when he lands. Halix, however, sees the attack coming and leaps straight upward, surprisingly lithe for a skinny old timer. He swings one katana and then the other. Altair ducks the first blow and blocks the second with his staff, a large chunk of the wood gouged away in an explosion of splinters.

Bloody ashes!
he curses to himself.

His weapon won't take many more blows like
–

Halix presses the advantage, coming in aggressively before Altair's even recovered. He swings both swords as one, slamming the blades directly into the staff...which splinters in
to two upon impact.

Altair stumbles backward, stunned.

How had it gone so wrong so quickly?

Was Halix right? Had he been foolish to challenge his mentor this early?

Halix sees the stunned look on his face. "I told you to call it off!" he bellows at his former student. "Now you pay the price for your overconfidence! At least your tale will be a lesson for all who might seek to follow in your footsteps, Altair."

He raises both katanas above his head, holding them crossed just behind his shoulders. Altair tosses the shattered remains of his staff to the dirt. He has fear, but he won't let it get the better of him. He still has one hand left to play.

Halix leaps and swings, going directly for Altair's neck.

But he misses.

Altair throws himself sideways, rolling in the dirt. Halix is behind him in an instant, kicking him to the ground before he can even get to his knees. Altair is stunned. Halix's heavy boot holds him pinned to the soil. Altair has one hand out in front of him, gripping the dirt. The other, he has tucked beneath his body, feeling the press from Halix. He moves that hand, searching, finding his tunic pants pocket.

The hard metal object is still there.

All he has to do now is wait...

"Go with the gods, Altair," Halix says, a tinge of regret in his tone. "You have earned a place among them." Altair hears the katanas s
wing upward to deliver the final blow.

A low rumble suddenly courses through the earth, the soil particles in front of his face vibrating and bouncing.