The Veil (15 page)

“No, wait!” called Gabriella frantically.

She motioned to go after him, but I grabbed her arm, tugging her back with all of my strength.

“What are you doing?” she almost screeched as I held her fast, while Jamiah limped down the streets, dragging his bad leg behind him and disappearing from view. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she watched him go. I whirled her around and saw that she was using all of her resolve not to slap me across the face. Instead she glared at me, her chest heaving up and down from her anger. “Why the hell did you stop me?”

I stepped forward. “Listen to me. I am as disgusted as you are. Exploiting the poor and suffering? It’s
sick
. But there are thousands of Lightwardens – and apparently Warwardens too – around this city, all communicating with one another. We’ve already broken half a dozen of their laws – a lot it seems that are punishable by death. You said yourself that we don’t know much about this city, but I do know this – if we go in there and pick a fight, we either die or we create an international incident.” I nodded down at the guards. “We’ve might have already gone too far. We need Fenodara’s help if we’re going to do what we came here to do.”

“So you want to just ignore this?!” Her voice was shrill from pure fury.

“Hell no, not for a second. But we need to be clever about it. There’s nothing two lone Guardians can do about it. So let’s head back and act like nothing happened. Judging by what Jamiah said, this has been happening for a long time, so it will be still happening when we finish what we came over to Pandemonia for. Once we’ve had all the help we need to get our missions done, we go back through the Veil and speak to Sage Faru. If need be, we’ll come back with an army of Chosen and rip Aegis Caria’s child army right out from underneath him.”

Gabriella looked conflicted, a pained expression on her face. It was clearly eating her alive to even consider my words. “What about Iralia?”

I shook my head. “We have to leave her for now. Look, no matter what we’ve seen, they can’t just harm a Guardian of the Alliance. That would be a big mistake.”

Gabriella face crumbled. She knew I was right. “Alex, they’re supposed to be the good guys.”

My expression steeled. “I don’t think that war allows for good guys, Gabriella. That’s the fundamental problem with war. Everyone thinks that what they are doing is the right thing and for the right cause.”

“So do you think what we do is right then? That what we struggle for every day is just?”

I stared into her eyes as the rain pelted down around me.

“I hope so.”

10

Alex

After using the harsh rain to wash away the traces of our deeds, we made our way back through the Partition in silence, retracing our steps and being careful to avoid any more interaction with the Lightwardens. When we got back to the entrance, Gabriella wrapped herself around my back and I used cracks in the walls to climb slowly and carefully up until we reached a narrow recess a few feet below the parapet where the wardens patrolled. We lay flat – holding our breath – and waited until another set of wardens passed through the door. I waited for the perfect moment and then grabbed hold of Gabriella once more, landing silently behind them. We slipped unnoticed through the door.

The air was warm and fresh in comparison to the stormy weather of the Partition.
It’s some kind of façade, either this or over there...I don’t know which.
The area was once again populated with citizens, the immediate threat over. The vendor was picking up the remains of the discharged water fireworks, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Several Displaced had been tasked with aiding the cleanup, their skinny arms loaded with cleaning materials that they used to scrub off the watery paint from the buildings and pavements. They worked tirelessly, only pausing every now and then to wipe away layers of sweat from their foreheads with the back of soap-covered hands. I felt bad that they had to work hard because of us, but I didn’t regret going through to the Partition. I recalled Gabriella’s words: “
We should keep our eyes open while we’re here.”
They were now wide open.

We entered one of the main shopping Ziggurats and found a bathroom where we were able to get most of the rain out of our clothes and hair. Not long after we had exited back into the main area, a second resonating clang echoed out across the district. Those working started to pack up their things, the vendors dropping canvas hoods over their stalls and using straps to secure the contents in place. Only the Displaced kept working. A hum of electricity preceded a megaphone announcement.

“Citizens and visitors. The Great Clock has chimed for a second time. The curfew will be in effect one hour from now. All communal areas aside from the Atrius must be vacated immediately. If you are not dining there, for your safety, please return to your homes. We wish you a pleasant evening.” There was a pause. “Desria le Ignitéa eo le Luminae shidar zerios.”
For the light of the Luminar shines brightly.

The Qi’lern motto was likely meant to rally and inspire, but it sounded hollow to my ears after the atrocities I had just witnessed.
Yeah, and you’ll do anything to keep it shining, like send children to their deaths.

“We should get to the Atrius,” said Gabriella, her voice flat and empty.

I couldn’t tell if she was still angry with me for stopping her from going after Jamiah or just shocked like I was. Either way it was obvious that being in Pandemonia had rattled her. It was rare that Gabriella did anything without thinking and planning it through first – the fury she had left the Aquadome with and her move against the Lightwardens betrayed the fact that she wasn’t thinking normally.
To be fair, I can’t really blame her.

After asking a citizen for directions, we took the Lightrail to the Victus District at Railport IX, where the Atrius was apparently located. We emerged onto a walkway high above the district. The area below was a stunning mix of bistros and cafés, all boasting a different style and design, from the ‘nook and cranny’ European look with wooden interiors and fireplaces, all the way up to sleek and modern with self-ordering from wall-mounted screens and stools that rose from the ground, like those in Faru’s office. All the restaurants splintered off from a central area, where a grand fountain depicted a famous battle scene with sword-wielding Elves and Pixies locked in battle – and winning – against the ugliest of the Umbra races.

The Atrius was a grand building that stood like a protective father up an exhausting number of steps at the back of all the weaving streets. It was a complicated structure made of ice-white stone, its walls curving around and outwards but not meeting in the middle, like a broken ring. Water poured down from the top section to the bottom in constant streams, making it seem as if it had liquid columns. It stood out among all the other modern structures we had seen, and like the Aquadome, I got the impression that it was one of the earlier Fenodarian buildings – a piece of cultural heritage that was to be preserved and maintained, rather than razed and rebuilt.

Gabriella and I took an elevator down to the main area and walked alongside the network of restaurants, past the fountain and through the courtyard. The pavement beneath our feet was white and veined, as if the roots of inverted trees were pressing against an icy surface, trying to break through.

“They’re empty,” said Gabriella after a while.

“Sorry?”

“The restaurants. Nearly every single one of them is empty. Look, some are even closed up.”

I followed to where she was pointing and saw that she was right. Several of the buildings had golden shutters rolled down and Qi’lern symbols painted on their doors that roughly translated to “out of business.”

“Looks like even the glossy side of the city is suffering,” I said.

“Money only reaches so far and goes on so long.” She paused. “I wonder what happens to the rest of the citizens when they run out completely.”

I shuddered to think.

We reached the back of the area and climbed up the steps until we reached the Atrius – which towered at least fifty feet above the other buildings. It was then that we saw that the grand building was the place where it seemed
everyone
came to eat. Thousands of citizens were split into three distinct queues, waiting patiently with their families as they were let in – at a speedy clip – by Lightwardens stationed at three entrances to the building. I noticed that those on the far left seemed to be going in the fastest, and generally seemed to be of the highest wealth. Their garments were the richest cloth, their jewelry the shiniest.

Those in the opposite queue wore older clothes, some with visible marks or small tears.  Most wore fairly plain adornments on their arms and hair, or none at all.

“It’s a class system,” I said.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Gabriella said bitterly.

“Which queue do we join?” I asked, looking around.

It seemed that we didn’t need to join at all. As we walked closer, Gabriella pointed ahead.

“There.”

The rest of Orion were standing in a cluster near the entrance, talking in hushed voices. All apart from Aran, who was leaning over and inspecting some tall flowers, stroking her blue fingers across the delicate petals with the wonderment of a small child. Scarlett noticed our arrival and waved us over. “I found everyone and bought them here like you asked. One of the Lightwardens told us to wait for someone to take us inside,” she said. “Guests of honour apparently.”

I blew air between my teeth. Everything about Fenodara seemed tainted now, every benefit and feature of the city tainted by the twisted foundations that supported them. The words of the old crone came back to me: “
Beautiful on the surface, but rotten at its core.” 

Never a truer word has been spoken.

“Are you guys okay?” said Mikey, clearly seeing the stress in our faces.

“Not really,” said Gabriella.

Sophia raised a hand in the air, and Midnight landed on her outstretched finger. She stretched open a pocket on her robe and he jumped inside, shifting from sparrow to mouse. “So,” she said, “what happened?”

We told them what we had witnessed on the other side of the door, and I watched as horrified expressions swept across their faces like dark clouds. All except for Sophia, who didn’t really react.

“Good god,” said Danny. “How the hell can they get away with something like this?”

“By keeping it a secret,” replied Gabriella. “We weren’t meant to see what we saw, and for good reason. Even for a world as messed up as Pandemonia, that has got to be some kind of war crime. The Lightwardens are totally corrupt. That’s why they react so severely to anyone who doesn’t fall in line.”

“But what about those on the front lines? Surely they can see that their new recruits are barely out of adulthood, or still children?” said Grey.

“Who knows?” I said. “They are probably so desperate for support they just accept it. If you’re fighting a war and you’re losing badly, you’ll take whatever help you can get. You should have seen it, guys. That kid we saved? He was as indoctrinated as it gets. I can imagine they fight like rabid animals.”

“I was a child when I was fighting with you all,” said Sophia. “Is it really that different?”

“Of course it is,” snapped Gabriella. “The Alliance rescued you. You weren’t lured in under false pretenses, separated from your family, and then kept under awful conditions until you forgot your own
name
, then turfed out to fight in a war you don’t even understand. Plus you know it was a mistake that we ever let you fight with us in the first place.”

Sophia flinched from the acidic response

“Mia bambina,
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, I–” Gabriella cut off her words when a Lightwarden approached us, armed with a beaming smile that was as false as a two-pound note. 

“Evening, Guardians. Apologies that you have been kept waiting. If you would follow me, I will take you to your table.” He turned on his heel and we followed him past the waiting citizens and through a smaller door near the main entrance, gaining salutes from the Lightwardens and stares from those waiting. Aran came in a moment later, holding a plucked flower in her hands. She fell into step next to Gabriella and me.

“Why do you have that?” Gabriella asked her.

“Aran has not seen this species of flower for centuries. It once grew near the homelands, but the Ageless War destroyed them long ago. Aran was simply observing their beauty at first but then decided to pick one to keep. It can be returned if Huntmaster Gabriella is displeased. Although it may not grow as effectively…if at all.”

“It’s fine, Aran. Keep it.”

I was almost certain I caught a glimmer of a smile appear on the Urisk’s face as she slipped the vivid orange flower into a fold of her white robe.

The Atrius was essentially a vast feasting hall set over various levels – likely once the pride of Fenodara – but now displaying the marks of fading opulence. The curving ground floor had countless rows of white pillars merging with a high ceiling that was filled with murals of the Elementals, but most of the columns were cracked and a lot of the artwork was now worn down to indistinguishable shapes. A central row of tables ran as far as the eye could see, disappearing around the curved walls in the distance. An uncountable number of the low-level citizens sat at the tables on uncomfortable-looking stools, eating from an array of food that they served themselves from bowls and plates sitting in the middle section of each table. There barely looked like there was enough to go around – there was a lot of clear space on plates. 

Citizens at the front of the queue handed their currency cards over to a small group of Lightwardens – who scanned them on a reader – and then walked down the room, searching for space on the tables. As we followed our guide through the vast room towards the stairs that led up to the next floor I heard a loud beep. It came from the card scanner. A mother Elf with worry lines crowding her face and a toddler son clutching her hand for dear life were barred from moving forward.

“I’m sorry, Citizen Egradia, but I’m afraid you are out of food credits.”

“B-but that’s impossible,” she squawked. “I have money, I have…”

Another warden appeared at her side and took hold of her arm, in a non-aggressive but persuasive manner. “If you could just come with me, please.”

“No, you don’t understand, I have money. There should be—”

“If you come with me, I am sure we can straighten this out.” His tone was still pleasant but edged with authority.

“Matriar, what’s happening?” asked the toddler, staring up with his vivid blue eyes.

“It’s okay darling, we just need to–” she began.

“Go with the warden,” barked a man behind her. “Some of us are hungry.”

The woman continued to protest as a warden took hold of her arm. Before I knew what I was doing I had broken away from the group and moved over to them. “Stop,” I said, pulling out my currency card. “I’ll pay for her and her son.”

The Lightwardens looked at me, and the one holding her arm let his hand fall away instantly. He gave a wide smile. “Guardian, you need not concern yourself with this situation.”

“Well, I just did.” I pressed the card into his hand. “I want to pay for both of them. For a month.”

The Elf’s face stared at me in a mixture of shock and gratitude. Clearly acts of kindness were a rarity in Fenodara.

“Guardian, paying for another Citizen is not generally—”

“Is it a crime?” I interrupted.

“Well no…”

“Then take the money from my currency card. Now.” I narrowed my eyes and stared at the Lightwarden. He glanced at the others for a moment and then conceded. “As you wish.” He scanned the card in the reader and then gestured ahead, his voice hollow. “Citizen Egradia, you and your lifeson may proceed into the Atrius.”