Raven Rise (18 page)

“But—”

“Let him sleep, Pendragon.”

I looked over my shoulder and called, “Welcome home. I'll be back later.”

“I'll be here,” Loque said softly. I think he fell back to sleep. Telleo was right. He needed the rest.

Once we got outside the room, Telleo was all smiles.

“It's good, right?” I asked. “He made it through the night.”

“It's a very good sign,” she said. “No guarantees, but he's got a better chance than we thought. You should go somewhere and get some rest too. You're a mess.”

I pulled away from her and sat down right in front of Loque's doorway. “No chance,” I replied.

“Pendragon,” she scolded. “You won't help him by staying here. The doctors will be by soon, and I'm perfectly capable of caring for him.”

“And I'm perfectly capable of hanging around,” I said. “Give up. I'm not leaving.”

“Do what you want,” she snapped, and walked off in a huff.

She was ticked. I wasn't sure why she should be so angry that I was staying there, but it didn't matter. I wasn't moving until I knew that Loque was definitely going to get well…and until he told me all that had happened back in Rubic City, and what he meant when he said, “They're coming.”

I settled myself in to wait on that freakin' hard, rock floor for as long as it would take. Loque deserved nothing less.

(CONTINUED)

I
knew I was dead,” Loque said. “Or would be soon.”

It wasn't until later that afternoon that the doctors allowed me to talk to Loque again. He'd slept most of that day, only waking up to eat a little and drink some juice. The food was helping him get strength back. He could sit up. Things were looking good. I think the doctors wanted to wait another day before letting him talk. I know Telleo wasn't happy about it. I guess they were afraid he'd get all worked up or something. But Loque insisted. He wanted to tell me what had happened, and I was all too happy to listen. Sort of. I sat next to his bed, alone. Telleo wanted to stay, but I wouldn't let her. I had no idea what Loque was going to talk about. We had seen things in Rubic City that most of the people of Rayne knew nothing about. It would be better to keep it that way.

“The shattered glass was coming down on top of me,” he continued. “There was no place to run, so I just stood there, waiting for the end. I felt a rumble and suddenly I was falling. The floor had collapsed under my feet. I don't know how far I fell. Twenty feet? I landed hard and crumpled, but I still had focus. I knew that the glass was coming down, so I rolled. I didn't know how much of the floor had given way, but I hoped I could get under a section that hadn't collapsed. It was the right move, because the bulk of the glass didn't hit me. It landed on the section of floor above. For one brief second I thought I had escaped. Then the floor above me collapsed. The weight of the glass was too much.”

“A section of floor fell on you?” I asked in horror.

“With the weight of the glass on top of that. It felt as if I were being crushed, but it was better than being shredded.”

I laughed. I know, it was a weird thing to do, but hearing the truth of what happened in that moment helped wipe away the nightmare memory I'd carried with me since the moment I heard the stained-glass wall explode. My version was a lot more gruesome. Loque laughed too. I'm not sure why we both thought it was funny. I guess it was some kind of relief.

“This isn't funny, you know,” I said.

“I'm sure you thought I was done,” he wheezed. “There were a couple of times I wished I was.”

I stopped laughing.

“I lay there for a long time,” he continued. “My eyes were burning. I wanted to open them to see where I was, but the only time they felt even a little okay was when they were closed. Didn't matter. It was pitch dark anyway. For all I knew, I was bleeding to death. I probably lay there for a couple of hours before I got the courage to move. I think it was the pain in my legs that finally got me going.”

“How badly were they hurt?”

“I think they were broken. Both of them. Moving them was more painful than I can describe. I had to drag myself out from under the rotted piece of floor and across a sea of broken glass. I moved an inch at a time. Every time I put my weight down, I had to be careful that it wasn't on something sharp. Didn't matter how cautious I was. It happened. A lot. I don't know how long it took to crawl out of the wreckage. It could have been days. Eventually I got myself to a piece of floor that was clear of glass.”

He hesitated; the memory was tough to relive.

“You want to rest?” I asked.

“No,” he said quickly. “I want you to know what happened in case I…” His voice trailed off.

“You're not going to die,” I assured him.

“I wanted to, Pendragon. I really did. The pain was horrible. I was bleeding everywhere. My eyes burned. My legs ached. I found myself wishing the fall had killed me, because I was looking at a long, agonizing death.”

“But you didn't die,” I said.

“No. The Flighters found me,” Loque continued. “I thought for sure they would kill me, but they had other plans. They carried me out of the basement into the city. The pain was unbearable. I think I passed out a couple of times. One positive thing, I realized, was that I hadn't lost my sight entirely.” He touched the bandage over his right eye and said, “I can see light and shapes through this eye. My left eye is useless, but I'm not blind. I guess that's one thing to be grateful for.”

“You've got a lot to be grateful for,” I said softly. “You're alive.”

“Funny, huh? It's all because of the Flighters. But they didn't help me out of kindness. They needed me.”

“For what?”

“I wouldn't find that out for a while. They took me to this big, black triangle-looking structure. It didn't look anything like the other buildings.”

I knew exactly what it was. It was a Lifelight pyramid, but I didn't want to get sidetracked onto that particular story train, so I didn't say anything.

“The place smelled like animals,” he continued. “I guess that's not far from the truth, because it's where the Flighters lived. They laid me down on the floor in a dark corner with a group of sick and injured. It was horrible. I was put between people who were crying out in pain or coughing with disease. The putrid smell of infection is something I'll never forget. The only thing that kept me from going out of my mind was the will to see Ibara again. To see someplace green and clean. I told myself that I'd do all I could to stay alive, just to get back home.”

“And you did.”

“Not for a while. They barely spoke to me. Whenever I asked for something, they'd grunt and ignore me. But they fed me. I don't know what I ate, but it kept me alive. Sometimes there were bits of foul-smelling meat. I didn't want to know where it came from. Mostly they fed me some goo that wasn't horrible and gave me energy.”

“Gloid,” I said.

“What?”

“Never mind. Keep going.”

“There was no medical care. My legs ached, but they didn't have anything to give me for that. I think their theory was they'd feed me for as long as I stayed alive. If I survived, fine. If not, nobody cared. There were plenty who weren't as lucky as I. Sometimes it was somebody lying right next to me. The only way I'd know they were gone was that their bodies went stiff. And cold. That's how close we were to one another. I could tell when they got cold. The Flighters would drag them off and replace them with somebody else who didn't stand much of a chance either.”

“What did they need you for?” I asked. I wanted to get off the subject of death.

“I got my first clue when we were visited by a man. My vision wasn't good, especially there in the dark, but I could tell that he was tall. And clean. Whatever he was, he wasn't a Flighter. I don't know why, but the guy frightened me.”

“Saint Dane,” I said.

Loque sat forward in surprise. “You know this man?”

“What did he do?” I asked, ducking the question.

“He spoke to us. To all the sick and injured. His voice was cold, Pendragon. That's the only way I can describe it. He was talking to people who were in agony…a step away from death. Yet he showed no compassion. Who is he?”

“Somebody you don't want to mess with. What did he say?”

“He told us the only reason we were being kept alive was to be used as workers for his project. He said it didn't matter to him if we lived or died, but if we lived, we were going to work. If we weren't prepared for that, he told us to die quickly and make room for others.”

My heart started to race.
Project
. What could that mean? Saint Dane was up to something. I tried not to let on to Loque that I had just stepped onto a road leading toward panic. He was dealing with enough.

“Did he say what the project was?” I asked, trying not to let my dancing nerves show.

“Not right away. That was the last I saw of him for a long time. I survived, obviously…and healed. Every second was torture, but my strength slowly returned. It was a miracle I didn't contract something deadly, or become infected, or get sick from the garbage they fed us. The pain never went away, but it subsided. My eyes stopped burning, and I had partial vision. It was better than nothing. I think that if I were totally blind, they would have stopped feeding me, and I would have been finished. They didn't want blind workers.”

“Did you find out what the project was?” I asked.

I wanted to hear about Loque's recovery, but the fact that he was lying there in front of me meant that he had survived. I was much more worried about what Saint Dane was up to.

“Eventually I could stand and walk,” he said. “It was painful, and it took a long time for the stiffness to go away, but at least I was mobile. I didn't want anything to do with that heartless guy and his project, so my plan was to try and escape. I figured I wouldn't be put to work until I was fully healed, but I was wrong. As soon as they saw that I could get around, they pulled me out of there. At first I was relieved. I figured nothing could be worse than that hellhole. I was wrong.”

Loque took another sip of water. It was tough being patient. I needed to know what was going on in Rubic City. I sat quietly, waiting for him to drink and get the energy to continue.

“It's a mine,” Loque finally said. “I think they're looking for precious gems or minerals. It's the only thing I can think of. There were hundreds of Flighters underground, digging through rock and rubble. There was no air and little light. They pushed me into this hole and told me to dig. With my hands. There were no tools. No shovels. I took my place in line behind other Flighters who were in worse shape than I. There was barely enough room to move. If you backed away or tried to rest, one of the supervising Flighters would beat you with a heavy stick. It was grueling, mindless work. My hands bled. They didn't even tell me what I was looking for. None of us really knew. We were just told to dig. And dig. I got to the point where I wished I hadn't survived the crashing glass, because I felt sure I would die in that claustrophobic mine.

The only thing that kept me going was the hope of escape. I organized a group of Flighters. They may be savages, but they're not dumb. They knew they would die down there. Our chance came one evening during the rest period. There was always a short window when the guards changed shifts. It was the same every night. We weren't watched during those times. That's when we made our escape. There were six of us. We found our way to the surface of the city and ran, before the next shift of guards showed up. I told them I had a ship in the harbor, and if they could get me there, I'd help them get away.”

My heart sank. “The ship wasn't there, was it?”

“No,” Loque answered. “The Flighters helped me get through the dark streets to the harbor, but the pilgrim ship was gone. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. You all thought I was dead. There was no reason for the Jakills to wait for a ghost.”

I knew I was going to have to tell Loque the truth about how the Flighters attacked the ship and sank it, killing most of the Jakills. But that would have to wait for another time.

“The Flighters had another idea. They told me about these small, fast ships that had been sitting near shore since before they were born. Nobody knew where they came from or why they were there. They brought me to a long pier, under which these boats were supposed to be stored. They told me there were thousands of them. When we climbed below, we saw that only a few remained. But that was okay—we didn't need many. We boarded three, two of us on each. They seemed easy to control. I sat on the back of one ship, waiting to head out to sea and wondering if I should bring those Flighters to Ibara. Turned out I didn't need to worry. The attack took care of that.”

“Attack?”

“The Flighter guards came after us,” Loque answered. “I thought they would try to recapture us, but I was wrong. They didn't want us back. I think it was more about making an example of us, so none of the other slave workers would try to escape. I didn't even know they had found us until the shooting started. They blasted us with these guns, probably the same kind of gun that destroyed the stained-glass wall. Two of the Flighters were hit instantly. Their ship exploded. I never saw them again. The other ship started off and it too got hit. The Flighters dove off at the last second. They may have survived. I don't know.”

“And your ship?”

“The Flighter at the controls nearly got away. A shot was fired.” Loque fell silent. I knew he was remembering the moment, and I didn't think it was a happy one. “The guy took the blast head-on. It knocked him clear off the little ship as if he were made of paper. It was horrible.”

“So you took the controls?”

“It was all I could do. Between the dark and my one good eye, I could barely see. But the instinct to survive is strong. I stood at the controls and did what the Flighter had done. The small craft lurched and took off. It was so fast. I wasn't sure what direction I was going, except that it was away from the city. All around me there was cannon fire churning up the water. The farther away I got, the less accurate their aim was. In a few minutes I felt confident that I had gotten away. I was the only one.”

“Then you had to find your way back here,” I said.

“I used my navigation skills from working the fishing boats. I thought I was going in the right direction toward Ibara, but I didn't know for sure. I was still weak, and after a few days of intense heat, I didn't have anything left. I couldn't stand up anymore, which meant I couldn't control the boat. All I could do was lie down and go to sleep. After all I had been through, I didn't have the energy left to keep going. When I closed my eyes, I was convinced it would be for the last time…until I heard your voice.”