The Forgotten City (24 page)

He had slumped down to the ground and was clutching his chest in agony. Eli dropped to his knees, rapidly checking the He-Ro for the pain and regenerative vials; they were both still three-quarters full. He shouldn’t have been feeling any pain at all.

“She’s after me,” Ismail gritted out, now switched out of military mode. “Leave. Continue on. Save Zara.” He gripped Eli by the front of his shirt. “Save her!”

Eli grabbed onto the scullion’s hand and saw a flash of images leaving his mind and entering Ismail’s. It was Ev’r just as she’d turned to Ravien –
‘My friend … I’m finished. Keep going.’
Eli heard the memory of his own scream as she’d changed.

Tears filled Ismail’s dark eyes and his grip on Eli’s shirt loosened. “Go,” he uttered, slumping back defeated. “Leave. I’ll end myself before she finds me. I want to do it alone.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere without you,” Eli told him. “I know you don’t think you’ll ever really escape her, but that’s just the captivity talking. You’ve been trapped for so long, part of you must have had to reconcile itself to the idea that it would be forever. Your body and mind are now just readjusting to being free.”

“Only in death … are we free,” Ismail murmured.

“True – but we’re also, well, dead – so it’s not really the best option, and just remember. You win against the witch with every free step you take,” Eli said.

Ismail just shook his head, nowhere close to being ready to reason through his feelings. A quick thought shot through Eli’s mind. He opened up Ev’r’s bag, which was sitting beside Ismail, and drew out the Morsus Ictus. Ismail saw it and his eyes widened. Eli was about to speak, to say it was a symbol of Ev’r being with him, of her strength and resolve, of their bond, but words seemed wholly unnecessary. Ismail felt it immediately.

“You have to fight. Even if you don’t believe you’ll win,” Eli told him. “You’ve survived so much – you have to keep going.”

Ismail stared at the blade, and said, his voice starting to flatten out, “When the witch comes for me – and she will. Take me out. If you care at all for Zara – you’ll do it.”

“I won’t let her take you, but I’m not going to kill you either,” Eli told him.

“You have no idea how powerful she is.”

“Maybe not, but we got you out, didn’t we?”

Ismail had to nod to that and something shifted in his expression, but only for a moment and then his face hardened back to soldier mode. He stood, accepted the Morsus Ictus from Eli’s outstretched hand and sheathed it.

“Proceed at will,” he said, swinging Ev’r’s bag onto his back, while Eli stood up on shaking legs.

“I think the next step is Adliden,” he said, “to try to retrieve the portal.”

Ismail gave a nod and said, “To Adliden.”

D
iega stared up at the seething swarm of Neridori, and saw herself and Shawe reflected back a thousand times in the mirror sheen of their black eyes. Thick plumose hairs and black and gold armor covered their bodies and faces, each set into the hardened grimace of a combat soldier. Like Tickleback, these insect-breeds had two sets of arms, and in both they held sharpened spears. Long spike-stings grew out of their lower backs. Diega clenched her own blade, preparing to fight, but the Neridori didn’t attack, they just circled for a while on thin, transparent wings before sinking down to land in a circle around them. They stood upright on two legs, all of them taller than Diega, then in one united sweep they stabbed their spears inward at her and Shawe.

One spoke in Urigin, the words almost drowned out by the buzz of its voice. “Hand over your weapons.”

Shawe looked as though he was about to refuse, but Diega shook her head at him. With a grunt of reluctance he lowered both his blades. Diega followed him, unclipping her weapon belt and throwing it down. Several of the creatures came forward to frisk them roughly. Christy objected when they took his flask, but quietened as a spear jabbed at his neck.

“Now march,” the same guard commanded, and the spears closed in on them, forcing them to turn and move through the forest.

With each step, a background humming grew louder, first to a
bssss
, then a
bzzzz
, and finally, as they reached the towering gates of the Hive, the all-imposing
ZZZZ
of a million giant bee wings, whirring together in the thickly sweet air. The Neridori standing guard opened the gate as they approached, and they entered into the shadow of the gigantic Hive rising up ahead, its walls made of vertical wax combs and hexagonal cells. All around the palace, Neridori worked at a frantic pace. Some were collecting pollen from towering yellow flowers, others removing what had been collected and taking it away. Further down the path, thousands of Neridori worked on the side of the palace, spitting gooey globs of wax from their mouths and smearing it over the walls to reinforce and extend. Others worked to cool the wax, spreading water over the walls and fanning it with their wings. On the top of the Hive, a solitary Neridori danced in a series of sweeping, graceful figure-eight movements, directing the workers.

The guards pushed Diega and Shawe all the way up to the palace entrance and forced them to walk through a mass of waiting Neridori, thousands of glossy black eyes staring them down. Diega stepped carefully, her head lowered, conscious of the spears and stings all around.

The entrance hall of the palace was a vast wax chamber, the walls decorated with glowing gold, orange and yellow swirls that made Diega think of wings in motion. Wax vases and ornaments stood on pedestals around the space, and in the center sat a massive sculpture of what looked like a hugely obese slug with tiny wings. The guards moved the captives up many flights of steps before they came out into an open chamber full of Neridori, scurrying and buzzing frenetically around something in the center of the room.

The guards forced them down to their knees, and Diega glimpsed, through the frenzy of bodies, a wax lounge where what she guessed must be Queen Alphra lolled, even more grossly blubberous and hideously flaccid than her sculpture. She was just a small head on a mountain of white, rolling flab, sparsely covered in bushy gold and black hair. At her head, servants spoon-fed her nectar, which she slurped up with an eelish tongue lashing out from interlocked mouthparts. At the other end, another group worked catching the white eggs as they plopped out in a constant mucusy shower, while another even more unfortunate group of subjects cleaned up the excrement and other offensive excretions slopping to the floor. The odor of the room was syrupy sweet, with a disturbing underscent of old meat.

Diega spotted, kneeling on the ground behind the queen, a group of bees who were stockier, and more muscular and masculine-looking than any of the others she’d seen so far. One of them looked up and a guard struck him over the head.

A guard from the group that had captured Diega and Shawe cautiously approached the queen and bowed low to the ground, wing tips touching the floor. Alphra regarded her with shifting, beady eyes.

“What?” She spoke louder than all the others, though the word was still blurred by the buzz.

The guard answered. “Your Majesty, Queen Alphra, Great Mother and Sustainer of the Hive, may this unworthy servant present these trespassers found in the woods.”

The queen gestured impatiently.

A spear poke to Diega’s back made her shuffle forward on her knees. The queen leaned toward her like a tidal wave of blubber to get a better look. Her stare, black and cold, bored into them.

“Why were you trespassing on my land?” the queen asked, a definite threat behind her words.

“Forgive us, your majesty,” Diega said, playing nice. “We are travelers from a faraway place and we lost our way.”

“We’re not lost, we’re looking for someone,” Christy chimed in.

“You dare speak, drone?” the queen said with such hatred Diega winced. Clearly this insect-breed had some kind of immense dislike of males.

Alphra lifted one flabby arm and jabbed it at Diega. “Are you responsible for bringing this ill-formed drone into my land?”

“Who are you calling ill-formed?” Shawe objected. “I’m guessing you don’t have any mirrors here, because you’re one ugly-looking slug.”

The chamber exploded into a buzzing uproar, drowning out Diega’s attempts to apologize. A swarm of guards closed in on them, spears stabbing, their intentions clear.

“No!” Alphra commanded. A glint came into her eyes. “Lock them up.”

The guards converged on Diega and Shawe, forcing them from Alphra’s chamber down a series of tunnels to a prison section of the Hive. They threw them into an open cell and, before Diega and Shawe could scramble up, rapidly sealed the entrance with wax, plunging them into darkness.

“Shawe!” Diega used his name like a curse word.

“What?” he demanded. “You think I’m going to let that trutting gadfly call me ugly!”

“Yes, Shawe! Under these circumstances, yes!” Diega yelled. “Now you’re the trutting gadfly because we’re locked up in here – thanks to you!”

“As if she would have given us anything anyway!” he shot back. “I saved us by getting us out of there.”

“Well, thank you so very much for saving me!” Diega said. “Now, how are we getting out of
here
?”

Shawe paused, then he swore and charged at the rubbery wax seal over the door, ramming it again and again, bouncing back every time.

Diega slumped to the ground and closed her eyes; her whole body was aching with fatigue and hunger. She cursed herself for not eating and drinking along the way when she had the chance – now all her supplies were lost with her belt. The only thing she had left was the silver coin in the hidden pocket of her soak, the
Ory-5
in its morphed state, which they could have used to escape – if her skills were working – but they weren’t, so it was nothing more than just a coin. For several minutes she stayed completely still, trying to think, while listening to Shawe charging and bouncing back over and over until it became so ridiculous that she had to shout, “Stop that, you stubborn lunatic!”

When he didn’t stop, she sprang up at him, grabbing a handful of shirt and muscle. He groaned as she accidentally punched the wound in his back. He dragged her off him and shoved her toward the cell wall. She slammed against it, her fingernails digging deeply into the wax. It surprised her how soft it actually was.

“Hey, the wall’s pliable,” she said to Shawe, squatting down and digging out another chuck of wax.

Shawe came toward the sound of her voice and stumbled over her, half-falling onto her back, just managing to keep himself up with one arm.

“Get off me!” She struggled to shove off his crushing weight.

“What are you doing lying on the ground? Having a nap?” he barked.

“I’m digging through into the next cell. Get off!”

He rolled away and demanded, “How’s that going to help?”

“We might be able to keep digging until we find an open cell.”

“Which could take forever.”

“I’m sorry, do you have an appointment somewhere?” Diega snapped. “Or a better idea?”

“Yes … I’m going to cut that slug into little pieces and feed her to herself!” He sprang up and started back into uselessly charging the door.

“Imbecile,” Diega muttered. She continued chiseling out chunks of the wax with aching fingers until finally, hours later, she broke through to the other side. Diega put her ear up to the small tunnel and listened, but all she could hear was Christy breathing like a dragon on the other side of the cell.

“Can you stop breathing – permanently?” she hissed at him.

Sounds of a gasp and fast-stirring limbs came through the hole and a buzzing Neridori voice demanded, “Who’s there?”

Diega slid back. The last thing she needed was a sting to come through the wall and through her head.

“Who are you? Tell me … please.” The voice spoke again, quieter, desperation clinging to the words.

“Diega Bluejay,” she said. “Who are you?”

There was silence for a second and then the voice replied, much closer to the hole, “Drone 9898989898989898 … Are you real?

“Yes, I am,” Diega said.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

Diega paused. Shawe muttered a curse.

“Are you there?” the voice shrieked.

“I’m here,” Diega said. “Why are you locked up?”

“I’m unchosen …”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Not chosen.”

“Yes, but why does that get you locked up?”

The drone replied, “The queen chooses some of our brothers to be her mates and the rest of us are put here.”

“For what? Until when?” Shawe spoke up.

The drone paused. “Until forever.”

A chill crept along Diega’s back. She hadn’t seen any feeding slots in the cells they’d passed.

“Do they feed you?”

The Drone answered in a sob. Christy swore again and started pacing.

Diega rubbed a hand over her forehead, thinking. The drones in Alphra’s chamber had looked like they had the same sting capabilities as the females, so why weren’t they busting out? The only thing she could think of was that they were brainwashed. Somehow she had to break through the conditioning and make this drone do what she wanted. She closed her eyes, trying to remember what Copernicus would say when he was interrogating someone and breaking into their thoughts.

“Tell me your name,” she finally said.

“I don’t have one. I’m a drone unchosen. Drone 9898989898989898.”

“You must call yourself something – other than a number,” she insisted.

The drone paused, then ventured, “Sesame?”

“Sesame, are you hungry?”

He whimpered.

“I want to help you get food, but first you have to help me get out of here. You have to use your sting to cut a hole through the seal on your cell and then through mine. Then we can go and free the others. We’ll get everyone out, and you can all eat.”

No reply came through the wall.

“Did you hear me?”

“Out?” Sesame said. “We don’t get out.”

“Trust me,” Diega said. “You can. I’ll help you.”

“We’re not allowed. We stay where we’re put,” Sesame replied automatically.

Shawe cursed again. Diega closed her eyes and fought for calmness. She took in a deep breath and then said, “Do you really want to die?”

“No,” Sesame whimpered.

“Do you want to be free and fly away?”

“Fly?” the drone whispered. “We could fly?”

“You can do whatever you want. You don’t have to stay here.”

“But we ha—”

“No!” Diega cut in. “You don’t have to do anything except escape.”

“But the queen …”

“Forget her. She’s sitting down the hall gorging herself sick while you and the others are starving to death. Listen to me. Your brothers need you, right? They need you to lead them out. If you don’t, they’ll all die as well. What if they’re as scared as you are right now?”

“We’re not allowed out. We stay where we’re put,” Sesame repeated, but to Diega it sounded as if his resolve was weakening.

Diega lowered her voice and said, “You’re strong. You can fight her. You don’t have to die like this …”

Sesame started to speak, then broke down into long, buzzing sobs. He cried for so long Diega thought he would never stop and she and Shawe would die listening to the sounds of this creature’s misery, but finally he quietened.

Diega pressed her ear to the hole and heard him standing up and shuffling forward. There was a sound like a knife blade puncturing rubber, then more movement in the corridor. A sliver of light fell across Diega’s face as Sesame broke into their cell. She leaped up and pushed out through, into the hallway, Shawe right behind her. They stared at the emaciated drone standing there, trembling and swaying and blinking into the light.

“Trutting hell,” Shawe muttered and Diega agreed. The sight and smell of the drone made her feel like gagging, but she held it together, scanning along the seemingly endless corridor of sealed cells. If Copernicus had been taken by the Neridori, as the dragonfly had said, he’d be in one of these.

“Can you tell which of these cells have been recently sealed?” she asked Sesame. The drone whimpered and wrung his fuzzy hands, his antennae drooping low.

“It’s okay.” Diega tried to comfort him. “You’ve already taken the biggest step, it’s just getting all the others out now, including a friend of ours. He was captured a few days – sets – ago.”

The drone glanced around, hesitated, then pointed to one cell.

“Can you open it for me?”

He gave a small nod and hobbled over. He punctured the rubbery wax with his sting. Diega grabbed the sides of the hole and wrenched it apart. A fist flew through and punched her right in the face, knocking her onto her back. She held her bloodied nose and looked up into the golden eyes of Caesar K-Ruz. The Pride King’s attention immediately snapped to Shawe. The two gangster superpowers glared each other down, before Shawe lunged, crash-tackling Caesar back into the cell. Diega heard the sounds of punches being thrown. The noise would alert the guards for sure. Cursing, she climbed in after them.