Guardian of the Vale Page 5

  “Where are we supposed to look?” a third-year named Jerremy asked.

  “Anywhere. Everywhere. I'd suggest starting within a block of the High Court steps, moving counter-clockwise around the building, and branching out from there. In particular, look for dark windows, dark doors, narrow alleys, back entrances.”

  “Great. So all the easy places.” Alex winked at Ryanna, and she screeched again, hugging herself closer to Daymon.

  Alayne counted the students, separating them into groups. In her peripheral vision, she saw Bryce Marshall sauntering toward the mouth of the alley by himself. She snatched the elements, and with a quick twist, she hurled him back toward the group beneath a burst of wind. His thin frame hit the rough pavement of the alley, and he yelled as he skidded to a stop in the center of the circle. Daymon twisted free from Ryanna and leaned over the boy. “Shut your mouth before you call every EA soldier to this alley, Bryce, or I'll shut it for you.” His voice was quiet and deadly.

  Bryce glared at Daymon as he picked himself off the ground, tenderly testing his shoulder and arm where he'd scraped along the cement. “She's not supposed to use the elements while we're here,” he seethed. “And now I'm bleeding.”

  “I never said we can't use the elements,” Alayne snapped. “I just said we have to be careful when we use them.” She motioned him over. “You're going with Daymon and me.”

  “I wanted to go with Daymon,” Ryanna interjected.

  All of them ignored her. Bryce's mouth pinched. “What? Why? I don't want to be in the same group as him. At least put me over there with some of the cool kids.”

  Alayne shook her head and tuned out Bryce's groan of irritation as she walked over to Marysa. Marysa held up her hand as Alayne came closer, and Alayne stumbled to a stop. Marysa wiped Jayme's forehead with a soaked cloth. “I'll stay here, Alayne.”

  “It's not safe.” Alayne tossed a worried glance at the mouth of the alley. Crowds still shuffled past, and now and again, EA guards patrolled the sidewalks. Few looked toward the narrow alley, and those who did seemed to find nothing peculiar about a group of tired-looking individuals huddling in the shadows.

  “It's safer than walking around the High Court with a body floating along next to me.” Marysa paused and looked up. “Besides, Jayme's far too recognizable in the Capital anyway. He didn't get face-time on the media outlets last year, but the Elemental Alliance units in the Capital will know who he is; it's where he lived all last year while they Shadow-Casted him to do their dirty work.” Marysa's frown softened as she turned her attention back to Alayne. “Don't worry, Layne, if someone comes at him, I'll send them up in flame.”

  “You can't send the whole city up in flame.”

  “It won't come to that. Please, Alayne, the others need to get to safety first.” Marysa's voice was quiet, but firm.

  Alayne hesitated and then nodded. She looked once more at Jayme's limp body on the ground where his dark curls pasted to his sweaty forehead, and pain shafted through her as she thought of his energy and vitality during the first year she had known him.

  “Layne,” Daymon called.

  She turned and jogged toward him. He'd sent one group of three into the press of people, and was following it up with other sets of three, spaced at intervals.

  “Marysa's staying here with Jayme,” she murmured when she reached him. “So we'll have seven groups of three. Are you ready?” she asked.

  “Sure.” As the last group slid into the crowd outside the alley, Daymon watched the streets carefully. “There're some EA guards who have been walking this beat, and they've passed us twice now. They're over there.” He pointed. Two guards marched quickly down the street. People parted naturally in front of them; fearful glances turned their way when they were safely past. As the guards drew closer, Daymon pulled Alayne back against the wall. “Bryce!” he hissed. “Get over here.”

  Bryce shrugged and nonchalantly shuffled to the wall just as the guards marched past no more than six feet away.

  Neither guard turned to peer down the alley. Alayne breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Okay, let's go.” Daymon slipped his hand down the inside of Alayne's arm and slid his fingers through hers. Alayne's breath caught in her throat. She looked up, but he was searching the crowds. “Now.” He tugged her out into the press, Bryce trailing along next to her. The spires that towered over them blocked their view of most of the ground buildings, but the High Court could be seen through a gap. Far ahead, they could see other groups of students.

  Alayne's heart hammered. The two guards who had passed them were in the minority. Companies of six or twelve EA officers marched by in formation. One horde of twenty even cleared the street for a while. Walls behind buildings and along roads were dotted with guards standing at attention, their eyes sweeping the masses of people. Although Alayne could feel the harp of elements constantly vibrating from the pure number of Elemental guards who handled them, she was surprised to find that they all carried knives like the guards at the gate had done. One guard ahead of them wrapped his fist around a spear. He held it aloft on his shoulder, the point aiming into the crowd below him. People who walked too near him scurried away in fear.

  A group of four Alliance soldiers marched their way, halting abruptly in front of them. Alayne froze, terror pounding through her. The four soldiers snapped to attention and saluted Daymon.

  After the barest pause, Daymon returned the salute, and the soldiers dropped back into formation, moving around them into the press of people.

  “I'd nearly forgotten about your uniform,” Alayne murmured.

  “Seems like it might be an advantage,” Daymon said. “They probably think I'm accompanying two prisoners to the northwestern barracks, since we're heading that way.”

  Alayne looked down at his hand that wrapped around hers. “You're holding my hand,” she stated.

  “Insurance. Don't want you escaping.” He dropped a wink as he pulled her forward.

  “You're not holding my hand,” Bryce pointed out.

  “You're too scared to run,” Daymon grunted, which earned him a glare from Bryce.

  Alayne tried hard not to look over her shoulder every few seconds. That'll make you look more suspicious than anything, she scolded herself.

  They followed the road several blocks, turning beneath arches, down steps, and onto another road that slanted steeply upward. It wound in a zigzag formation through a neighborhood with houses set right into the hill until it at last leveled out between two spires. The High Court rose into view ahead of them. The white marble steps arced up and up to the great pillars, and the towering atrium glinted against the sun at its apex. Black-robed Justices wove in and out of its pillars, ascending and descending its stairs, some in deep conversation with each other, many alone. Elemental Alliance guards flanked each pillar, standing at attention as they stared out over the city. The pole at the top of the atrium flew the EA's banner, a circle of three intersecting rings.

  “This way,” Daymon said, turning into an intersection that led into the street nearest the cobblestone courtyard that spread at the base of the High Court steps. Far ahead, Alayne could see the group of three Daymon had sent out minutes before them.

  As they threaded through the crowds, Alayne shook her head. “We're all covering the same ground, Daymon. We're following the path everyone else has taken.”

  “We're thoroughly covering the territory,” he murmured. “I'm counting on Last Order spies being near here. They'll recognize at least some of us.”

  “But what if they're not?”

  Daymon didn't answer, and Alayne swallowed the dread that gripped her insides.

  They continued on, completing passes of the east and north sides of the High Court. By the time they neared the southwestern side of the building, the sun had peaked the sky, and Alayne's wild hair was knotted, tangled, and sweaty. All the better; she'd be even less recognizable.

  Bryce had kept up a constant complaining monotone in the background.
His feet hurt, his head hurt. He wanted water, but obviously, the big jerk Daymon wasn't going to let him get any, so he'd just keep going and maybe somebody could scrape his remains from the street when he died and bury him somewhere nice and cool. He wished he'd gone with another group; at least they'd talk to him. Why he had to be stuck with the freak Quadriweave, he didn't understand.

  All at once, his strident voice broke through Alayne's misery. “Hey, get out of my way,” he yelled.

  Alayne jerked her gaze to the boy. An older man had dropped a burlap sack of apples into the street, and as he bent over to retrieve the scattered fruit, his foot had tangled in Bryce's.

  Bryce aimed a kick at the man's leg, but missed.

  “Bryce, you nitwit, stop.” Alayne clutched at Bryce's arm. “What do you think you're doing?”

  “Stupid idiot can't keep his feet to himself,” Bryce said, too loudly.

  Alayne was mortified. Heat flooded her cheeks as she realized people were staring. She immediately dropped to the ground, grabbing the fruit off the cobblestones, helping the man stuff his bag again.

  “Thief!”

  The call echoed through the street, and Alayne glanced over her shoulder to see an angry shop-keeper running through the crowds toward them. Thick army boots thudded on the cobblestones behind him. “Thief! That man stole my apples.”

  The man with the fruit clutched the bag to his chest. The two apples that Alayne still held in her hands, he ignored. With one last glance at her, he ran toward them, forging between Alayne and Daymon, in his panic knocking Daymon backward into the crowd.

  Two of the guards thundered past in pursuit of the thief, but one stopped in front of Alayne. He plucked the apples from her hands and tossed them to the side. They rolled into the gutter.

  “Are you an accomplice?” he demanded.

  Alayne shook her head, glancing over the guard's shoulder at Daymon where he'd fought his way out of the crowd. His blue eyes looked panicked.

  “Like I believe that.” The guard spat on the ground. “You'll have to come with me for questioning.”

  Liquid fear sliced through Alayne as Daymon stepped in front of her, his arms fisted at his sides. “She's not going anywhere,” he growled.

  The soldier glanced at Daymon's armband and snapped to attention. “Sir, she stole apples from this vendor. We've had a rash of burglaries in this part of the city lately—”

  “I said I'll take care of it,” Daymon growled.

  “Sir, begging your pardon, but the Commander of our unit has asked us to bring in any more thieves we can lay our hands on—”

  “Did I not just make myself clear?” Daymon's fists bunched, and Alayne glanced around at the staring crowd. Quickly, she laid a hand on the hard muscles of his arm. “Just—wait a minute, please.” She edged around him to stand before the guard. She crossed her arms. “I refuse to go with you, because I didn't do it. I was helping that man pick up the apples that I thought were his.” She was tempted to use the elements, but it would call too much attention to them. Besides, her nerves tightened each time she touched the element harp. Who knew if or when she would lose control of them again?

  “Right. Sure,” the guard jeered. “I've heard just about the same story three times this week from the other thieves we've caught.” The guard twisted Alayne's wrist in a painful grip.

  Daymon threw his fist into the man's face, snapping his head back toward the sky.

  The guard cursed, blood streaming from a broken nose. “You—”

  Before anything else could happen, a loud commotion roared up the street. People screamed, running, and a mass of humanity turned into a flowing river, catching Daymon, Alayne, and the guard in the midst of the stampede. In the furor, Daymon grabbed Alayne's hand, ducking with her toward an alley. From somewhere, Daymon had caught Bryce's skinny arm in his other hand, and he pushed the boy before him.

  The guard was nowhere in sight.

  Manderly Manders materialized at the mouth of the alley. His gray eyes warmed as he smiled at Alayne. “Come with me, Alayne. We need to get you out of here.”

  Chapter 5

  The relief on Daymon's face mirrored Alayne's own feeling as they followed Manders through the crowded streets. Daymon kept tight hold of Bryce's arm.

  “But the others,” Alayne murmured to Daymon.

  Manders checked over his shoulder. “Don't worry; we're getting everybody rounded up. We spotted three of your group not far from here and hoped that there would be more of you. We won't stop until all twenty-four of you are in Last Order headquarters.”

  “Twenty-three,” Daymon said quietly. “Kyle defected.”

  Manders stopped walking for a moment as he surveyed Daymon's face. “I see.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Twenty-three, then. Come along.”

  He ducked down a side street, through two archways, and then beneath the support arches for a spire. Back into another alley. Down a set of stairs, and then another, through a tunnel, and then onto a quiet thoroughfare. The airbuses and foot traffic were more sedate in this part of the city, but the attitudes and expressions of the passers-by seemed harried and concentrated. Few people looked up to make eye contact with anyone.

  Walls of white marble caught in Alayne's peripheral vision, and she realized they were standing near the bottom step of the east side of the High Court. The gleaming steps rose so steeply, the pillared building at the top, back-dropped by its enormous atrium, seemed small in comparison.

  “Quickly. In here.” Manders had stopped at what appeared to be doors to a storm cellar. The double steel doors banked against a building, their rusted hinges creaking as he pulled the left one open. Steps descended into darkness that yawned below.

  Alayne swallowed and stepped onto the first stair. She continued into the darkness, her feet finding smooth firmness for at least six steps. Daymon followed, then Bryce, protesting loudly. “I don't want to go in there. It's too dark; how do I know there aren't spiders in there?” Alayne glanced back at the boy. His face looked a little green beneath his chin-length, mud-colored hair.

  “I wouldn't worry, Mr. Marshall,” Manders said as he stepped in behind Bryce, pulling the door shut over him in the process. “I'm sure there are loads of them.”

  “How do you know my name?” Bryce snapped. “I had Professor Myners for my Elemental history classes last year, not you.”

  “The disappearance of twenty-four Clayborne students from the clutches of the Elemental Alliance has been all the Last Order has discussed for the last couple of weeks,” Manders said. A light flared from a lantern he held in his hand. “Your name and those of your schoolmates have come up often.” Several more lanterns along the wall of the corridor cast their shadows on the walls.

  “This way, please.” The professor started along the corridor, holding the lamp aloft. Alayne could see nothing beyond the glow of light, except the walls.

  “We're heading downward, aren't we, Professor?”

  “Very observant, Alayne. We are indeed.” He swung his lantern at the walls. The light ricocheted off the stone surface. “Welcome to the new headquarters of the Last Order.”

  Alayne gasped. “So close to the High Court and the Alliance's headquarters?”

  Manders smiled at Alayne. “We operate by the notion that the closer we are to our enemy, the less they'll notice us. This tunnel circles in a sort of inverted spire, directly below the High Court.”

  “How far down does it go?” Bryce asked, his voice shaking. He did look almost sick. His hands shook, his face in the lantern light had gone from puce-green to stark white. He's claustrophobic, Alayne suddenly realized. Empathy twisted her lips. She had also struggled with that, though not as much since her mastery of the earth element.

  Manders turned to Bryce, a twinkle sparking in his gray eyes. “Miles and miles, Mr. Marshall. At least a three-day journey down, if you use the stairs. Thankfully, we still have an operational chute.” He winked at Alayne.

  “Miles?” The panic was clearly
evident in Bryce's voice now. “I'm not going. I demand that you take me back. I want to go home. This is nonsense; why did you bring us here in the first place?” He gestured back up the tunnel. “How barbaric is this, anyway? It'd be better to be caught than to hide in a hole in the ground like a worm.”

  “Mr. Marshall,” Manders interrupted. “The tunnels end on the same level as the city's sewers, so not far. We'll only be going one level down—for now.” The finality of his tone put an end to Bryce's complaints.

  Irritation laced Daymon's expression as he stared at Bryce.

  The corridor abruptly ended at a set of double doors. “You'll find that the set-up is very similar to Clayborne, just upside down, and no gymnasium. There is a common room, however.” Manders smiled as he pushed a button to open the chute doors, and stepped inside.

  “How does the Alliance not know about it?” Alayne asked as the chute car dropped, then stopped. The doors opened, and Manders stepped into a massive room. The walls were lined with flickering torches. The ceiling was so high, it disappeared into the darkness, and the wall at the back was invisible to Alayne's straining eyes.

  “I'm so glad you asked, Alayne. It allows me to delve into my favorite subject: history.”

  Daymon caught Alayne's eye, and his mouth twitched as he hid a grin.

  “Many years ago, this was a spire. It stood in the heart of Croylar Mol Iompayr, one of the first spires built after the Great Deluge had wiped out most of civilization. After the Deluge, Elementals and Naturals flocked to this City Centre for help and shelter, and the name naturally shortened itself to the Capital—it was easier to manage. Elementals were becoming known beings then; people began to realize that if an Elemental built something, it stood a much better chance of withstanding the elements than if a Natural Human built it. Also, everyone wanted spires in case another flood struck like the one they had just survived. They hoped to be able to climb above the rising waters, you see.”