Legon Ascension (38 page)

* * * * *

Heath used magic to magnify the seeing glasses’ view. He looked down on groups of women being shepherded into different buildings. There were also a few men moving around the area as well. Heath continued looking around. There was something else that was off with the scene. Many of the women had bulging bellies. With the sheer number of them, he’d assumed that they were fat, or that there was something wrong with the seeing glass, but as one of the women cradled her belly, a chill ran down his spine.
 

* * * * *

Barnin sat at the meeting spot waiting for Heath and Ankle. His gut hurt, but thankfully there wasn’t anything left to throw up. Heath was the first back, his face ashen. Before they could talk, Ankle was back. He wore a look of purest hatred. No one spoke as they read each other’s faces.
 

“Report,” Barnin said hoarsely.

Ankle started angrily. “They are training children as soldiers. I saw about 200 of them today doing drills and running in formation.” He paused. “Sick part is they were performing at the same level as professional solders.” He made a fist. “When did children start going into the care?” He spat.

“I don’t think they were taken into the care,” Heath said. “What I found were large amounts of women that were all pregnant. From what I could see, they are running a breeding facility. I wondered why, and now I guess I understand…”
 

“They’re doing what?” Ankle said. “Sir, what’s wrong, doesn’t this bother you?”

Barnin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should be surprised, but I’m not.” He explained what he had seen, how he’d watched slaves fighting to the death, until the last man was left standing. How he’d seen teenagers killing grown men and women, how he’d seen what they did to some of the women before they died. By the end, Ankle’s anger was replaced with fear, and Heath, well, Heath looked like he was going to cry. Both the men next to him had been through hell on the battle field. They’d seen horrible things, but no one was unaffected by what was going on in Mors.

“You know it’s going to be worse when we break in and look into records and dig around, right?” Barnin said. They didn’t say anything. “We need to hold it together until tomorrow night, and then we will get out of here.” The thought of breaking into the Mors camp bothered him.
 

“When are we going, sir?” Heath asked.

“The camp is just as active at night, but I think we need the cover of darkness. We need to go now.” He tried to take a drink of water. “Take a few to collect yourselves, but then we move out. Remember, the sooner we get back, the sooner we can come back and free these people.”
 

They were going to go in the west entrance near the spot Heath had been observing during the day. From what they had seen that day, the Iumenta were managing the camp, but it was human forces that were running the day-to-day activity, including security. If they were lucky, the Iumenta spent the night in the complex in the center of the camp. If they weren’t lucky, well, Barnin wasn’t thinking about that.

Moving like a wraith, Barnin came up to the fence surrounding the camp. Making their way north, they looked for a weak spot in the fence. When they were unable to find one, Heath had to use magic to part the wire without cutting it. It took awhile to make it through the fence. The barbed wires crisscrossed in many places, but finally they made it in. The dirt street was rough with frozen mud, and there was a horrible odor. Ahead of them were lines of squat buildings made of wood. He couldn’t see any light coming from them, so he assumed the occupants were asleep. They stayed low, trying not to make a sound in the crunchy frozen mud. Ever since Barnin was a kid, he would hold his breath when he was sneaking about, and once he made it to one of the buildings, he pressed his back against the wall and let out a breath. When he inhaled, the air caught in his chest and he almost wrenched. In all his life he’d never smelled such a thing. It was a mixture of death, excrement and every other kind of filth there was. Heath and Ankle were holding cloth to their mouths and nose, but it didn’t look to be helping.
 

There were sounds too: whispers inside the walls, moans and coughing. The night was bitterly cold, and Barnin examined the wall, seeing that it was barely worthy of the name. Gaps were predominant. Had there been any light inside the building, they would be able to see inside. Barnin resisted trying to peek inside; he didn’t want to know. He motioned from them to keep moving.
 

Their destination was a four-story stone building further up. Based on the dilapidated barracks it was surrounded by, they figured the stone building was of some importance.
 

There weren’t many guards in this part of the camp. They only had to hide from a few on their way to the building. But that wasn’t altogether surprising; the barracks, huts or whatever they were had large doors that were bolted shut. No one was getting out.
 

The stone building wasn’t relatively well-sealed, but with Heath around and no wards to protect it, picking the lock was easy. Ankle closed the door behind them. The entrance hall was still warm. As they made their way down the wooden floors, they were able to breathe. Sconces along the wall held plants and herbs that covered up the stench from outside.
 

“We need to try and get an idea of what is going on in here. I want to know how long this place has been here, and how many people have been through here,” Barnin whispered.

“Do you think they’ll have those kinds of records?” Heath asked.

Barnin nodded. “The Iumenta document everything. Plus, this place doesn’t smell, which leads me to believe that the people who work in here aren’t the dregs of society. They may be Iumenta.”
 

The first floor was relatively basic: dining area, conference room, etc. They split up for the top three floors. Barnin took the second, Heath the third and Ankle the fourth. Heath kept a network going. If anyone found records they were to contact Heath, who was the only one who had a working knowledge of Elvish.
 

* * * * *

Heath was the one to hit paydirt on the third floor. He found a room of files. By the time Barnin and Ankle had searched the other floor, Heath had barely started.

“What is it?” Barnin asked.

They had been right to think Iumenta worked here—everything was in
 
Elvish. Heath explained, “Most of the records listed those who have come in, how many children they have had and by who. It gives if they are alive and a glut of other information, but we knew that. I’m trying to find the oldest records or yearly reports.”

“So look for paper with numbers?” Ankle said.

“Yes.”
 

Not long after, Heath was waved over by Ankle. “Hey, I think I found something.”

He had, there was a file of annual reports. “This is it.” Heath read the files name for them. “This is the commission of the Mors facility. It’s dated February 3, 1941 A.G. This place has been in this location for almost sixty years.

“But there is more. The commission talks about revising from the original charter in August 11223 P.B…” he trailed off.

“What does P.B. mean?” Barnin asked.

“We don’t use A.G., P.B. or P.A. when recoding time. The Immortals use these to separate periods. For example, P.A. means Prius Ascension. It marks the time before Immortals existed. P.B. is Prius Bellum, and A.G. is after the War of Generations.”
 

“So you’re saying this place was here way back before the war?” Ankle asked.

“Looks like it. The War of Generations started in 11239 P.B., but the thing is, the name of the head of this place hasn’t changed. The same Iumenta was in charge of the camp then and now,” Heath explained.
 

“Right, so this creep has had a couple of thousand years to figure out what he wants to do. That’s all we need. If this place doesn’t pose a threat, I don’t know what does. Who knows how many of those Dark Warriors they’ve grown.”
 

They did their best to put everything back as it was when they found it. Barnin felt a sense of relief knowing that they were going to be leaving this nightmare of a camp. At the same time, he wasn’t looking forward to traipsing across all of Airmelia. From their high up vantage point, they’d been able to figure out the guards’ patrols and were going to head out of the camp another way. Once again they were assaulted by a thick scent. Heading along some buildings they came across something none of them expected. Against the wall of a building were stacks of cages with figures inside. They made their way up to them carefully, morbid curiosity getting the best of them.
 

The people inside the few occupied cages looked to be mostly dead or asleep. The cages were four by four and stacked two high and made of iron bars. The women inside were no more than skeletons of people. Barnin could see the shivering form of one on the bottom row. Something was dripping on her from the presumably dead body above her. He looked in the top cage in front of him, Ankle by his side.
 

The woman inside looked dead. Never had Barnin seen someone so thin. He could see every bone protruding through her blotched and damaged skin. Clumps of hair were missing, and what hair was left on her waxy skull was thin. Her clothing was dirty and tattered. Barnin leaned in, ignoring the smell. He couldn’t imagine what suffering this woman had faced before death. The skin of her face was no more than a wax cover over her skull. Her eyes were closed sockets, and Barnin hoped she was now at peace.
 

Her eyelids snapped open. With a gasp, he realized she was alive. Hazel eyes trembled back and forth, looking them over. Barnin’s heart slowed as he gazed at the girl. “My name is Barnin. Who are you?”

Her voice was hoarse and shook. “Rachel.”
 

Barnin could see her shaking, be it from the cold or fear, but he couldn’t tell. “Hello Rachel, what are you doing in here?” he asked, trying to sound calm.
 

She looked confused, “This is where I live.” She didn’t know they weren’t part of the Mors camp. Barnin could tell that she was on the verge of death, and likely had been for some time.
 

Barnin was about to speak when Heath interrupted. “Someone’s coming…”
 

Ankle moved quickly to where Heath pointed, hugging the corner of the buildings. Rachel still looked confused. Stopping was stupid. She had seen them. If they ran she could report them. If they stayed, they would have to deal with the guard, whose death would not go unnoticed. Ankle looked back and Barnin signaled to him. Both he and Heath tried to hide in the shadows as they heard footsteps. Barnin turned to Rachel and put a finger to his mouth.
 

A single man rounded the corner and Barnin stepped into view. The man saw him and started forward, passing Ankle without seeing him. Ankle grabbed the man’s head from behind him, covering his mouth and lifting his chin in one motion with his left hand, slitting his throat with his right. Rachel didn’t scream, but looked wide-eyed as Ankle quietly lowered the body to the ground.
 

“That’s our cue to leave,” Barnin said. “Leave him there, we need to get out fast.”
 

Ankle trotted up to them and nodded at Rachel, Barnin looked at her “ok”

Ankle quickly unlocked the cage and Rachel pushed herself back “I wont tell I…”

“Shhhh, we’re going to get you out of here. Can you walk?” Ankle said, reaching out a hand.
 

She hesitated for only a moment, and then reached out a skeletal hand and took Ankle’s. He helped her out of the cage. She didn’t have shoes, of course. “They are in a locker…”
 

“We don’t have time,” Heath hissed.

Ankle looked at her. “Don’t scream.” He knelt down and plucked her up in his arms. At a jog they made their way to the fence. Heath made short work of it and soon they were out of the camp. Rachel was looking back at the facility as if she was having a dream, and Ankle ran with her up the side of the mountain.
 

After a ways, they had to stop and catch their breath. “Rachel,” Barnin said, “I need to ask you some questions.” She looked at him, waiting. “Do the Iumenta come around a lot, or do you ever see dragons?”
 

She answered right away. “Yes, the Iumenta will be there in the morning, and once a week a dragon comes. It’s pale green and huge.”
 

“Once a week?”

She looked scared now and took a moment. “Yes, it just appears in the air over the center of the camp. It’s so scary.”
 

Heath swore. “They have a jump crystal here. Rachel, when will the dragon be back?”
 

She thought for a while. “I think today.”

With that, break time was over.
 

* * * * *

Heath was exhausted by morning. They had been moving all night long, but he still wasn’t able to contact anyone. Shortly after they left there was the sound of bells from the Mors camp. Rachel told them that was the alarm.
 

“Sir, by now they have to be searching outside the camp. We aren’t going to make it to any populated area,” Ankle said panting. Rachel was in bad shape and smelled something foul. Heath didn’t know how Ankle was able to stand it.
 

“Heath, we need to get you close enough to call this in. We probably aren’t going to make it out of this alive,” Barnin said.

“I don’t know, sir. Umbra said that there is a back up plan to get us out. By now the jump crystal in the ship should be charged. If we can contact them, she might be able to evacuate us,” Heath said, trying to sound optimistic, and they had good reason to be. Rachel would be a glut of information about Mors. On the trip last night she said she had been there for over four years.
 

By noon, they were close enough for Heath to call in. They found a small alcove in the mountain to hide in and he reached out.
 

He felt Umbra and tried to get her attention. “Umbra, we need help, we found something,” he relayed all of what they had seen to her and everything that happened.