The Veil (14 page)

A guard stood in front of the others, his armour similar to that of a Lightwarden’s but darker and with sharper edges. He swept a strand of his dark hair from his face and then pressed a button on a small display unit similar to our Biomotes. There were two beeps from within the ranks and I saw the LEDs on two small wristbands attached to smaller wrists flash red.

The warden with the dusky armor spoke. “Two-seven-six-three and one-six-four-eight. Come.”

Without a word, the children with the glowing bands broke through the ranks and moved slowly to the front. One of them was an Elf. He was small for his age and had to keep lifting his helmet up to stop it sinking right over his head. The other was an Imp – and as such, far bulkier, with a baby gut and messy black hair that poked out the edges of his helmet. The two boys faced each other in the pouring rain and bowed.

And then they began to fight.

Gabriella let out a stifled gasp of horror as we watched them swing the staffs at each other as if they were the worst of enemies.

Clang!

A fierce blow smacked against the smaller boy’s helmet and he was left reeling. A follow-up strike glanced against his chin, sending a spray of blood flicking across the ground. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from shouting out. The Imp boy spun around and smacked the back of his opponent’s neck so hard I was convinced he’d broken his spine.

“We have to do something!” I hissed to Alex.

“What can we do? There’s no chance they won’t see us.”

The boy somehow recovered and swung out with his own Bo Staff. It hit the Imp in the stomach and he huffed, clearly winded. But rather than put him off, it only made him more furious and he attacked with the anger of the possessed. In a matter of seconds, the Elf was knocked unconscious, sliding face down through a puddle of dirty water, his helmet rolling to a stop several feet away.

“Pathetic display,” said the Lead warden. He gestured behind him. “Take this cretin to the recovery cell and deliver three lashes when he is awake.” He nodded at the victor, who had a hand placed against his stomach and was clearly trying not to show his discomfort. “Well done, one-six-four-eight. But be sure to keep your stomach protected at all times. If that had been a sword, your guts would be all over the ground by now.”

“Yes, Warmaster. Thank you, Warmaster,” breathed the boy.

“You have earned an extra portion of food this evening. Return to the ranks.”

“Thank you, Warmaster.” The boy gave an awkward bow and then returned to his position within the rows of young children. The warden pressed the unit again and two more wristbands flared up.

“One-eight-nine-three and two-three-four-two, you’re up.”

I couldn’t get my head around exactly why this was happening. The answer was right there in front of me, but some of the pieces were missing. All I knew was that what I was witnessing was beyond wrong. I wanted to jump down and break every one of the guard’s necks.

Gabriella looked at me, about to say something, but a yell from behind us stopped her in her tracks. We frowned at each other and then crept back along the building, peering over the edge into one of the small walkways between the huts.

Three Lightwardens were standing over a young Elf. He had been carrying some kind of foul-looking food in a plastic pot, which was now spread across the pavement, its grey liquid pooling with the streams of rain.

The boy was cowering on the ground, one hand covering his face, the other stretched out in a gesture of mercy. One of the Lightwardens had his own hand coiled into a fist, and it was clear he’d just used it.

“You are over four minutes late to roll call, and your excuse is that you were hungry?!” The warden was furious, spittle flying from his mouth.

“I-I’m sorry, Warwarden,” said the terrified Elf. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I t-thought I had enough time to get food, but then the rain came and I couldn’t see properly. I took a wrong turn from the Foodhouse and got lost.” The poor Elf was so scared he could barely get his words out.

“Unacceptable!” shouted the other Warwarden, and stamped on the child’s leg. A loud crack echoed off the walls and the boy screamed in agony. Immediately afterwards, the first warden kicked the small Elf with such force, it sent him flying into a wall. The child slumped to the ground and his head drooped into his chest. Fury rushed through me, and I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d wanted to.

Gabriella was way ahead of me.

She pounced off the building, landing on the back of one of the Wardens. Lunging forward, she used her momentum to flip him over. He hit the ground hard, and she stamped a foot down into his chest with a scream. A gasp escaped his lungs that dissolved into a gurgle as he lost consciousness.

My mind calmed and became crystal clear as I jumped down, sending rain splashing up around me. The second Warwarden was rushing towards Gabriella. I seized him by the back of the neck and spun him around, smashing my forehead into his nose. I felt the warmth of his blood as it sprayed across my face and tasted metal as it seeped over my lips. I let him go and he staggered backwards, clutching his wounded face.

A rough hand gripped my shoulder. Without turning, I seized the arm and twisted, snapping the bone. Only then did I spin around, and came face to face with the third Warwarden, his face twisted into a grimace of pain. He reached for his gunpike, but I knocked it right out of his hand and grabbed his throat, hoisting him off the ground and squeezing his windpipe. Spittle flecked across my fingers as he gasped for breath.

“Don’t kill him!” shouted Gabriella. Her words were distant but still penetrated.

I was in full control.

With a grunt, I threw the warden up into the air and grabbed his legs. Pivoting on the spot, I slammed the Warwarden’s entire body into the shack. A splatter of blood streaked across the metal and left a large dent from the impact. I could hear the confused sounds of the prisoners inside.

Gabriella had turned her attention to the only upright Luminar, still keening over his broken face. She sent out a torrent of punches to the side of his head until she was the only thing keeping him on two feet. She let go of his throat and he started to fall to the ground, but not before she jumped up and delivered a final spinning kick to his chest. He ricocheted off the wall and landed next to his broken friend. Not a single sound came from either of them. “You won’t be hitting any more children for a while now, you bastards,” she spat.

It’s over.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let my reserve energy seep away, leaving the normal me in its wake. When I opened my eyes again, it was to three unconscious and badly wounded Warwardens. Gabriella was checking the vitals of the one I’d just body slammed. She looked up and gave a relieved nod. “He’ll live.”

“I know.”

“Alex…the child.”

I glanced up to see that the little Luminar was coming back to his senses. He looked around groggily as if waking from a heavy dream – his eyes widening when he saw the unconscious Lightwardens and us, standing over him.

“Y-you shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered in a quavering voice. “They’ll be mad when they wake up.”

I stared down at the mass of broken limbs and blood. “I think it’s going to be some time before that happens.”

Gabriella crouched down next to the small Elf, who was shivering either from fear or the cold rain that hammered down around us – maybe both. She gently brushed his damp blonde hair away from his face and then placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He flinched but didn’t pull away.

“Don’t worry, we don’t want to hurt you,” she soothed. “What’s your name?”

The Elf looked up at us, his velvet green eyes meeting with mine. He was young, probably only in his early thirties, which would have made him about eight by human standards.

“Three-nine-two-eight,” he stuttered.

Gabriella glanced at me for a second. “No, I mean your actual name.”

The boy frowned as if he didn’t understand the question.

“Before you came here, what did people call you?” I said. The boy was silent for a moment, as if trying to retrieve a dusty memory from the back of his mind. “J-Jamiah,” he said uncertainly.

“Its good to meet you, Jamiah,” I said.

Gabriella pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m Gabriella, and this is Alex,” she added, gesturing the same hand towards me. She motioned for me to crouch down next to her; when I did, Jamiah flinched away from me.

He’s scared of men.

“Don’t worry, hun, Alex is a kind person. He wouldn’t dream of hurting you, would you, Alex?”

“Not in a million years.” I gave the biggest, dopiest smile I could and the Elf gave a weak one back.

“Where are your mother and father, Jamiah?”

“Father? Three-nine-two-six,” he said, as if suddenly understanding. “He’s dead.”

“How?”

“He got sick,” he replied with barely a flicker of emotion.

“And your mother?” I asked.

“Three-nine-two-seven is still alive…I think.” He gave a shrug. “She works in the Atrius kitchens. I don’t ever see her.”

I glanced at Gabriella and saw that her expression was as stunned as mine.
He doesn’t relate to his parents as people any more. What have these bastards done to him?

“Jamiah, what is the Partition?” I asked.

The boy’s face broke into an unexpected sneer. “Why should I tell you anything? You hurt the Warwardens. They are our protectors.”

I was taken aback by his defense of the three brutes who had minutes before been beating him mercilessly.

“Jamiah, those men were hurting you. They might not have stopped if we hadn’t intervened. They are
not
your protectors, they’re your captors,” said Gabriella.

“They
are!
They train us to be strong so we can defend this world from the Umbra.”

“Hold on. You mean they’re training you to be soldiers?” I asked.

Jamiah nodded. “Me and others like me. Every day we train, from the twin sun’s rise until the Great Clock chimes.”

“Do you
like
training?” said Gabriella.

“Yes. We must fight for the protection of Pandemonia.” His response was automatic, like something spouted from a propaganda broadcast.

“Answer me truthfully. Do you
really
like training, Jamiah? Don’t you sometimes wish you didn’t have to?”

The Elf’s gaze fell to the ground. “Sometimes,” he whispered almost imperceptibly, as if he were admitting a terrible secret. “Sometimes I wish I could visit outside the Partition. The pretty place we saw when we first came here.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked.

He wrinkled his nose, making him look like the innocent child he was, which made my heart ache with sadness for him. “I don’t know. I think seven cycles.”

That’s about ten years I think.

“Can you remember what happened when you first came here?”

The boy was silent once more, grabbing at his old memories. He words were unconfident as he began, almost like he couldn’t quite trust them anymore. “W-we were running…from our village, which had been destroyed by the Umbra scum. We came to the pretty city and were taken to see the head warden. He asked if we had any money…we didn’t. So Lightwardens came and bought us here. I was taken from seven-nine-two-six and seven-nine-two-seven and put in the Bright Barracks. It’s the same for anyone who doesn’t have any money. If you are young and healthy, you are taken to train so you can help win the war. Those who are too old or too weak have to live here and do jobs that help the city. I didn’t see anyone I knew for a long time.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

Gabriella was blinking back tears that were forming in her eyes. “Jamiah, don’t you miss your parents?”

He looked at her as if it were a stupid question. “Of course not. Families are weak and pointless to the cause. Only the strong can save Pandemonia. They couldn’t serve, so their lives were worthless.”

“Jesus Christ,” I breathed.

“So is that what the Partition is, a place where people who escaped to Fenodara and who have no money are forced to live?”

Jamiah nodded. “Yes. And people who are fit  are taught to fight for the world against the Umbra savages.”

“Are you allowed to leave the Partition if you want to?”

Jamiah gave an unnerving laugh, reverting back to propaganda mode. “Why would we want to leave? The Warwardens give us shelter and food. They teach us to be strong and to defend against our enemies. The Partition is the greatest place in Pandemonia.”

Gabriella reached for my hand, as if it what she was hearing was too much to bear. My head was spinning like a top.
This child…this innocent child has been brainwashed into thinking this squalid, festering shantytown where he was stolen from his parents and forced to train for inevitable death is some kind of salvation.

I felt sick to my stomach.

“Can I go now? The Warwardens are already going to punish me for being late. I don’t want to make it any worse.” He stared down at the broken guards and seemed to struggle with his next words. “But…thank you.” He stood up and started to hobble off.