The Veil Page 41

  Delagio, Danny and Hollie were picking up the larger remnants of the mini Hydras, hurling them over the sides of the ship, where they fell for some time before making huge splashes in the water below.

  “Hey,” I said, jogging over.

  “Sleeping Beauty awakens!” announced Danny. “How are you feeling, mate?”

  I gave a default smile. “Yeah not too bad. Quite rested.”

  “Good,” said Delagio, dumping half a dozen Hydra heads into my arms. “You can take over for a bit. Ah’ve been at this for over two hours. My arms are killin’ me.”

  “So taking on the Hydra Queen isn’t enough,” I chuckled, as I threw the heads over the side of the ship. “Now I’ve got to help clean up too? That hardly seems fair.”

  “You took her on but you didn’t take her out did ya?” he said slapping me arm playfully. “That Cetus dude arrived and the queen shook you off her like a quarter out of a piggy bank.”

  “That was weird,” said Hollie, throwing a set of stone wings over the side of I’orin. “I mean that thing is supposed to be a Pandemonian god right?”

  “The Hasea Handbook says they’re the closest thing that Pandemonia has to gods, yeah,” said Danny, kneeling down and scooping up some more Hydra debris, before passing it over to Hollie. “Living gods anyway. The Dragons were seen as gods too, but they’re gone now.”

  “Yeah. So,” continued Hollie, “this living god just comes down like some real life deus ex machina and scares away the Hydra Queens just as Alex is about to finish it off, and then every single Pandemonian on board starts praying. Forgetting the praying bit, which was super odd but understandable, why did Cetus bother to protect her? Surely there’s plenty of other Hydra Queens out there in this messed up world. There’s only one Sorrowslayer.” She tossed over some more remains and then pointed at me. “By all accounts, you’re the one the Elementals are interested in. The one who can actually make some positive changes to the situation.”

  Cetus was doing more than just protecting the Hydra, it was warning me of what could happen if I tried to kill it. Even what could happen if I was successful…almost like two alternate paths that I could have chosen, each that would would have resulted in my death. But then why is Cetus even interacting with us after what Lafelei said about the Elementals not getting involved?

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. I really don’t. “The words of the Elementals are so damn cryptic, who knows what they’re thinking?”

  “Ah don’t think there’s many Hydra Queens left,” said Delagio, sitting down and resting his back against the side of the ship. He pulled a handful of marbles out of his pouch and let them hover above his palm. New wounds had opened over his healing ones from the battle of Fenodara – including a large gash above his right eyebrow, which trailed dried blood around the edge of his eye socket and down the side of his cheek. He started expertly weaving the marbles around his fingers as he spoke. “In fact that might well have been the last one. That’s why they ain’t exactly front and centre in the Handbooks. They don’t make themselves known that often.”

  “How do you know so much about them, Del? You were pretty clued up in the battle,” I said.

  He squinted up at me through the rain. “I told you man, I’ve read up on them.”

  “But you just said that they aren’t in the Hasea Handbooks,” I pressed.

  He frowned. “Yeah, but that don’t mean that ain’t in any books.” He shrugged. “I like to read.”

  I could see he was starting to get irritated. “So you think that Cetus was trying to protect the Hydra?” I asked, changing the direction of the conversation back to what the general consensus seemed to be.

  “Beats me. Certainly seemed that way though didn’t it?”

  “So a super rare Hydra Queen made itself known to us…is that a coincidence?” I asked.

  Danny picked up the last few bits of Hydra remains from the area and then we all moved out of the way so that the Lightwardens could mop up. “Maybe it’s the magnet thing,” he said when we settled against the side of the ship further up.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Magnet?”

  “Yeah, well that’s what I call it anyway.”

  We all stared at him, so he pushed away from the side of the boat and stood in front of us to explain. “Chosen are like magnets to Pandemonians,” he said. “We attract them because we’re innately designed to fight against each other, right? It’s what our evolved souls were designed to do, to protect Earth.”

  I nodded. “Yeah that’s right.”

  “Well we’re in their world now. So maybe that magnetic response is even stronger. It could even be their defence mechanism. To seek out Chosen and kill them as a form of protecting themselves.”

  “Like an attack as defence thing,” said Hollie.

  “Exactly, and I think that having several Chosen in a small space – not to mention a super powerful one among us – acted as a large magnet, which in turn attracted something large.” He pointed over the side of the warship. “Hence the Hydra Queen popping up to say hi. It could even be why we were attacked by the Umbra in Fenodara.”

  “Good theory,” said Delagio.

  “Thanks,” said Danny with a grin.

  That is a good theory. Maybe we are like walking magnets to Pandemonians on this side of the Veil. My mind flashed to the Hasea emblem, coated in Yeth’s Skinshifter skin and my eyes narrowed. Or maybe he’s trying to misdirect us.

  “You okay, Alex?” Danny said, catching me staring at him.

  “I’m fine,” I replied. “Just thinking.”

  For the next few hours we helped to clean up the damage to I’orin, which was pretty severe – the Queen Hydra’s tsunami breath had destroyed entire containers of extra supplies, ripped guns and radar equipment from their mounts, and punctured more holes in the hull and deck than an hyperactive kid with a knife and a tin can.

  Danny and Hollie assisted the Vengeful with hoisting the fallen struts back upright using ropes and pulleys. Meanwhile, Delagio and I helped the Lightwarden crew fix the various large holes around the deck. The wardens heated the thick metal using controlled levels of energy from their gunpikes, and then Del and I alternated between using his telekinesis and my extra strength to push the flower petals of metal back into their original positions. After we had forced the damaged parts back into place, their residual heat made them seal back together. When everything was repaired as well as it could be, the slow, almost melancholic clang of a bell rang out across I’orin.

  “What’s that?” I said, dusting my hands against my uniform trousers to remove the tiny fragments of metal that covered my palms.

  One of the Lightwardens we’d been assisting finished running a thumb across a scar of metal on a recently mended hole – checking it was sealed – and then stood up. His expression was strained.

  “The time has come to say goodbye to our fallen.”

  *

  I stood between Delagio and Danny, staring out across the edgeless ceremonial platform that protruded from the side of I’orin. The dark waves beyond had mercifully stilled, and the rays from the twin suns had broken apart most of the rainclouds from earlier, bathing our faces in their warm, bright glow. Everything was so gentle and calm, it was almost as if the arrival of Cetus had created a delayed sense of peace that was sweeping across the sea. Either that or the world had tired of all the death and chaos, and was giving back a moment of respect for those who had fallen.

  I hadn’t told the Guardians about the visions from Cetus, or about my strange dream. Mainly because I didn’t know what any of it meant, but also – as much as it killed me to think it – I simply couldn’t be sure that one of them wasn’t Yeth in disguise. I was praying that I was wrong, that Yeth really had died on that day, and my friends were just my friends. But until I knew for sure, my best option was to keep my mouth shut and eyes open.

  Seventeen dead Lightwardens lay on a bed of straw inside a row of open glass coffins. Their bodies were wrapped i
n white ceremonial robes and fixed with golden pins that depicted Soren and Capis, intersecting together at the centre. The arms of the fallen were folded across their chests, their gunpikes at their side, and their swan-like helmets at their feet.

  Captain Garrat stood at one end of the coffins, wearing a mourning robe of gold and white stitching and carrying a ceramic jug covered in ancient symbol. The ranks of remaining Lightwardens and Vengeful watched on with utter stillness as the captain addressed us, speaking in Qi’lern.

  “Yesterday was a day of absolute marvel,” he said. “A day where – however briefly – a blessed Elemental chose to reveal itself to us.” He gave a deep bow. “Vi’der k’uth Lumis es honoris.” Your light bathes us with honour.

  The other Luminar around us copied the bow. Tu k’uth Lumis es honoris, they repeated collectively.

  “However, yesterday was also a day of sadness,” continued Captain Garret. “A day where too many of our kin were taken from us. This world sees so much violence and death every day that it is easy to become numb to the dreadful cost of the Ageless War. As you all saw in that fearsome battle, we fight not only our natural Umbra enemies, but also the corruption that this world has created. Once peaceful creatures like the great Hydras have become so consumed by insanity that they seek to destroy for its own sake. What the blessed arrival of Cetus must remind us, is that death does not have to be the answer. There is still a possibility for the natural equilibrium to be restored, a possibility that a sick world might be cured.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from around us.

  “However, for now, it is not for us to think of what might be, but of what has been. These brave Lightwardens – as well as those lost to the Hydra and the ocean – gave their lives trying to protect not only our own kin, but also four strangers. Four strangers who we aid even in detriment to ourselves so that they might achieve their mission, such is the Luminar way.”

  I was almost certain I could hear an edge of bitterness in Captain Garrat’s voice. Then again I couldn’t blame him for feeling resentful. These Lightwardens did die whilst trying to get us to where we need to go. It was why I felt guilt digging in my hollow stomach whenever I looked at the blank faces of the fallen. But he failed to mention that if we achieve the endgame of this mission they are so ‘selflessly’ aiding us in, it could potentially save the entire Luminar class from assured annihilation. I think that tips the favour scale right back in their direction.

  “The bodies of our fallen kin will return to nature – as all things must – but their immortal souls will take the long journey through the Last Light and enter the Gardens of Serenity, where they will be reunited with those they have loved and lost.” He knelt down beside the first glass coffin and poured a small amount of pale blue liquid from the jug into the slightly parted lips of the dead Lightwarden.

  “Ge’hen te ani tu narae u’brettae,” he whispered and then kissed the Elf’s forehead before closing the lid of the glass coffin. To nourish you on your journey, brother.

  The captain moved between the coffins, repeating the last rites to all of the dead Lightwardens. I didn’t know any of the people who had died – not even their names – but that didn’t stop the guilt and sadness I felt growing until I felt tears spilling down my cheeks. How many more will die before this crusade ends? How many more last rites will the Luminar witness before we toss Hades into his grave?

  Captain Garrat finished performing the rites on the final Lightwarden and then stood up, gesturing a hand towards the sky. “Dilarah.”

  Two shadows appeared from over the captain’s cabin and then the two Protectors swept overhead, spiralling around each other before they stamped down either side of the glass caskets. The captain closed his eyes for a moment. “For those who knew the fallen, please say your final words to them now. For those who didn’t know them, please wish them love and light for their crossing.”

  I closed my eyes and wished all of them well, praying that they found their way to whatever peace was to be found at the end of Luminar life. When I opened my eyes again the Gargoyles had winched open their mouths, their necks leaning down towards the coffins.

  “Ida’rin,” commanded Lightwarden Garrat as he moved away from the dead. Ignite.

  The Protectors unleashed a stream of fire down onto the coffins and within seconds all seventeen of them were ablaze. Slowly the glass crystalized, transforming into shimmering gold as it reacted with the heat. The captain gestured up with his hands and the Gargoyles rose into the air, ceasing their fire. The coffins continued to burn below, releasing a sweet, smoky aroma as whatever they were coated in reacted with the flames.

  “Th’ull Lumis dehen Cetus adun et h’omis,” Captain Garrat said softly. May the light of Cetus guide you home.

  The captain moved away from the coffins and signalled up to Lightwardens standing inside the central cabin. A second later the entire platform the caskets were spread across shifted down at an angle, and they slid over the side of I’orin in a rush of fire. I heard the splashes a moment later as they hit the waves below. Everyone stayed still, tears spilling silently down faces. I was surprised when I saw all seventeen coffins – somehow still burning – and spreading out in a perfect semi-circle, floating into the distance and brightening the dark waters, like the rays of a beautiful sun.

  It was the Vengefuls’ turn next.

  Eleven of them had died in the battle with the Hydra, which I felt even guiltier about than the Lightwardens. They didn’t sign up to any of this. They were innocents who had been forced into a life of battle training and hardship, and no matter how indoctrinated they had become, allowing them to be unfazed and unaffected in the face of war, it didn’t change the fact that they were little more than children.

  Captain Garrat moved back towards the mourning ranks, and Danny moved up, so that the Lightwarden could settle next to me. “When the ceremony has finished, please come to the bridge. I have something important that I must discuss with you,” he said, as his pale hair whipped around his face.

  I nodded back at him. “Of course.”

  “Thank you.”

  He turned away from me, towards where the lifeless Vengeful were lying in rows atop a black sheet, on an adjacent platform. They had been cleaned of blood, but they still wore their battle armour, and their guns and shields remained clutched in their small hands. The entire rank – including us Guardians – rotated to the right, so that the Vengeful ceremony became central focus.

  “Please, honour your dead,” said Captain Garret.

  The remaining Vengeful walked over to their dead, the last boy carrying a thick black chain coiled over his narrow shoulder. I watched in surprise as one by one, they carefully removed each piece of armour from their fallen brethren – exposing the blue tinge of their skin – until all that remained was a loincloth and metal belt.

  When they had finished, the backmost Vengeful unfurled the chain he was carrying, and I saw that it was fitted with incremental karabiner hooks that appeared to be designed for the chain to fix to itself. The Vengeful worked across each of the dead, attaching the hooks to their belts and then moving on, until all eleven had been fixed to the long chain. Then I saw the boy who I’d saved from falling open his arms out wide. The other Vengeful gathered around him, fixing the end of the chain to his belt tugging it to check the fastenings were secure. His face was a blank slate, but in his eyes I could see a faint glimmer of fear, just as I had when I’d clung on to him as he dangled above the Hydra Queen’s maw.

  The Guardians around me looked as unsettled as I felt. Their faces were locked with deep frowns as they stared at the living Vengeful, who was now connected to all of his dead comrades.

  “What are they doing?” I asked Captain Garrat, as the Vengeful hoisted up each of the fallen – one at a time – and started to wrap them around the boy, until he could no longer be seen behind the growing spiral of the dead.

  “The seas of Pandemonia are vast and the Vengeful believe it is easy
for those who have died to become lost trying to find their way to the other side,” replied the captain. “So, one who previously survived death – who carries a great power – must travel with them to act as a guide, and to bear witness to the sacrifices they made. This is so that the Gatekeepers might permit them to travel through the Last Light and enter the Gardens of Serenity.”

  “Wait, what? You mean that boy is going to sacrifice himself?”

  “Not sacrifice. Volunteer.”

  “Are you insane?” I hissed. “You can’t just let one of them give up his life as if it means nothing. That’s madness!” I took a step forward.

  Captain Garrat placed a hand on my chest. “How is it that you have achieved so much, Sorrowslayer, yet still understand so little? The Vengeful are brothers, bound together by war. They fight at each other’s side and die by it. That soldier is happy to give his life if it means that he can follow his brothers through the Last Light.” The captain looked me straight in the eye. “Who are you to challenge their customs? You might not agree with it, Guardian, but it is one that Vengeful themselves created and believe in, and therefore you must respect it.”

  I stared at the boy surrounded by the cluster of dead, who was being carried to the edge of the ship by the remaining Vengeful, and I felt powerless. He’s right.

  I grit my teeth together. “I won’t stop them, but I refuse to watch.”

  The captain nodded. “As you wish,” he said and then turned to face out across the sea, falling silent.

  I watched until the moment the Vengeful carried the cluster to the very edge of the I’orin, their hands leaning in and gently touching the head of the boy who had given his life so that he – in their minds – could guide his brothers and sisters across the threshold to paradise. Then I closed my eyes and kept them shut until I heard the almighty splash that told me it was over.