City of Stone (The Watchers Trilogy, Book Two) Read online

  City of Stone (The Watchers Trilogy, Book Two)

  T C Edge

  ©2016 T C Edge

  This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, events, and incidents that occur are entirely a result of the author's imagination and any resemblance to real people, events, and places is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2015 T. C. Edge

  All right reserved

  First edition: April 2015

  Cover Design by Laercio Messias

  No part of this book may be scanned, reproduced, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

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  Book One - The Watchers of Eden

  Book Three - War at the Wall

  Table of Contents

  1 - A New Beginning

  2 - The People Gather

  3 - The Road to Petram

  4 - Boiling Point

  5 - Desperate Times

  6 - Saviours

  7 - The Mountain Pass

  8 - Petram

  9 - A Vision Clearing

  10 - The Master

  11 - Fresh Recruits

  12 - Athena

  13 - The Refugees March

  14 - Orders

  15 - Mission Improbable

  16 - Custodians

  17 - The Torment of Sleep

  18 - Fossor

  19 - The Rising Storm

  20 - Flight to Fight

  21 - Tartarus

  22 - Back from the Dead

  23 - A Mission Morphing

  24 - Aeneas Stein

  25 - Return to New Atlantis

  26 - An Unlikely Ally

  27 - Back on Eden

  28 - A Secret Mission

  29 - Underwater Level 2

  30 - Kill or be Killed

  31 - A Short Walk to Death

  32 - Executions

  33 - The Clock Ticking

  34 - A Friend Returned

  35 - Breakout

  36 - A Fear Confronted

  Next in the Series - War at the Wall

  1 - A New Beginning

  I wake to the sound of breathing. Light breathing in the darkness. My eyes open, breaking me from my dreams. Dreams of death. Dreams of destruction.

  The light is faint in the cold tunnel, the fire between us glowing with soft embers. The shapes of bodies begin to appear. Ellie in one corner, her tiny frame curled up in a ball, a grimace on her beautiful, sleeping face. I know what she's seeing in her dreams. It'll be the same nightmare I just woke from; the death of the boy she loved. The death of Link.

  My eyes drift, blinking as they take in more light. Theo occupies another corner. His back is to me, his body gently rising and falling with each breath. Occasionally I see him shake and tremble, a shallow, incoherent murmuring drifting from his lips, and know he's having a vision.

  I lie there and wonder of what. Of what pain and destruction and suffering he's witnessing. Whether dreams of the past or visions of the future, sleep brings no respite to any of us any more. We are all destined to suffer night after night for the rest of our lives. That is our curse.

  I search further, and find Jackson. He lies on his back nearby, his face more peaceful. I think of what might be passing through his head, whether he's dreaming of home and the quiet life we used to lead. Perhaps thinking of the Grove, of our secret meeting place in the woods. Of a time when the world was far more simple.

  It's not simple now. Not for me, not for us, not for anyone. I wonder if my life will ever be simple again.

  There's one more person in the small rocky chamber. When I look at him I still can't quite believe my eyes. So much of my recent life has been hard to take on board, hard to fathom. The revelation that my father was alive after so many years was perhaps the biggest surprise of all.

  I look at him now and wait for my vision to grow clearer. He sits up against the rock wall, eyes shut, face silent and still. He's aged so much since he was taken from us when I was a child, more than the years should have allowed.

  Lines, so many lines, criss-cross his face. His hair, still blond and bright, is thinner and further receded than before. And when I look in his eyes, his deep blue eyes, I see so much pain, so much history, so much regret. They're eyes that look like they've seen a dozen lifetimes.

  It's been only two days since he took me to one side and revealed his identity. When he washed his face of the soot and grime, when he spoke of my mother and held her watch so delicately in his rugged fingers. When he looked at me like he used to, like a father looking at his loving daughter; it was all too overwhelming.

  After the recent days I'd had; the running and hiding, the desperate struggle to discover the truth about Jackson, the breakout of war in the old, dilapidated city, it was too much. I collapsed to the stone floor. Everything went black.

  I was shaken awake, and that's when I saw his eyes clearly for the first time.

  “Cyra, Cyra, are you OK?”

  Water was being splashed on my face, cold and refreshing. My blurred vision cleared, and there he was again. Those deep, blue eyes. That scorched, weathered face.

  “H...how...?” was all I could say. “You're...alive...”

  He nodded calmly, and smiled, and drew me into a long hug. My arms, weak and drained, wrapped around him and gripped as hard as they could manage. Tears fell from my unblinking eyes. The sound of my sobs filled the chamber and echoed down the tunnel beyond.

  “I'll explain everything in time, my darling,” he had said. “We have so much to tell each other.”

  Jackson appeared soon after, drawn into the chamber by my echoing sobs.

  “Is everything OK?” he asked tentatively.

  He saw us hugging by the stone basin. I turned, my eyes watering, and saw a quizzical look on his face through the sheen of tears. I knew then that Drake, my father, hadn't yet revealed who he was to Jackson.

  “Everything is fine, Jackson.”

  “Sir, I think we should get moving. We shouldn't linger here, so close to the tunnel entrance.”

  My father smiled and looked at me.

  “He's a fine man,” he whispered. “He'll make a strong Leader one day.”

  Soon after, we were on our way again. Jackson took the lead at the front with Drake. Ellie, still distraught over Link, walked along like a zombie in my arms. Theo held the back, lost in his own world.

  We walked for a long time, my mind occupied by a thousand thoughts. Only when we took time to rest did I get a chance to talk with my father, to hear his story. How he was taken during a rebel raid, a raid we were told years ago led to his death. Taken into the Deadlands so they could learn more about Knight's Wall, to be recruited into their cause, just as Jackson had now been.

  Each of his answers, each explanation, brought with it a dozen more questions. Mostly, I wondered why he never came back to us.

  “I couldn't,” he said as we walked quietly through the long, dark, tunnel, a mournful tone to his voice. “Believe me, Cyra, I wanted to, but I couldn't. I would never have got back to the wall, and if I did, and they didn't shoot me on sight, I'd only have become a soldier again. I would never have been allowed to come back to you and your mother, your brother and sister.”

  I hung my head. “I understand.”

  He took my chin and lifted my face. For several long moments he gazed into my eyes and inspected every one of my features. “You have turned into such a beautiful young girl. I wish I could have seen you grow. You and Carson and Cassie. But I knew that the only way to ever see you again was to join the rebel cause. To help build it. To fight back. E
veryday I've been working towards that goal, Cyra. And I'll never stop working at it until I see it done...or die trying.”

  He pulled me into a long, deep hug. I felt safe in his arms.

  That was yesterday. Now, a night and day later, I'm looking into his sleeping face. Counting those wrinkles I didn't get to see develop. Praying for his eyes to open so I can speak with him some more.

  I sit in the silence only broken by the sounds of breathing and Theo's occasional murmuring, and wait. I feel no desire to sleep any more. No desire to return to that world where my mind isn't my own. Where I am constantly harassed and tormented against my will. Sleep, once a comfort, is now my enemy. It has become a world of torture.

  Hours pass. Or, at least, I think they're hours. Here, locked inside this endless tomb, time has lost all perspective. Only Theo, who has a working watch, is able to tell us when day turns to night and night to day.

  I turn my eyes from my father and back to Ellie. That grimace remains on her face. Theo has quietened, his body more still. His vision, whatever it was, is over. Now he'll have to contend with nightmares instead.

  The first to stir is Jackson. His eyes flicker, open slowly, and turn immediately to me.

  “You're awake?” he asks. “How long for?”

  “Hours, I think,” I say.

  He sits up and edges closer to me, inspecting the rest of our group. Seeing they're still sleeping, his voice turns to a whisper.

  “Have you slept at all?” There's a worried look on his face. Jackson has always been protective of me.

  I shrug. “I think so. I feel refreshed enough.”

  My eyes drift again to my father, still asleep. Jackson follows my gaze, eyes turning to Drake then back to me.

  “He's your father, isn't he?” he asks.

  I turn to him and stare.

  “How do you know? Did he tell you?”

  Jackson shakes his head, then nods towards Drake.

  “He looks like you. It's the eyes. He was the one who told us where you were, so we could come get you across the wall. He must have known you. But I didn't realise until now just who he was.” His hand reaches towards mine and grips my fingers. “How do you feel, Cy?”

  How do I feel? I honestly don't know.

  “I'm happy to find him,” I say. “You know the story, Jack. We were told he was dead. But...”

  “He wasn't. Like me. They took him.”

  I nod and look back at him.

  “It's hard. Losing people. Finding them again. I lost him so long ago. But you, Jack. I still can hardly believe you're alive.”

  His cool palm cups my cheek. I lean forward and his arms take me in. Fingers brush through my hair, the beating of his chest vibrates through my body. We don't speak. No words are needed.

  The sound of stirring breaks the spell. I look over Jackson's shoulder to see Theo turning and sitting up. He looks at us, locked tight in an embrace, and quickly turns away. I break away from Jackson as Theo speaks, his eyes now on his watch.

  “Jackson, it's been five hours since we stopped. We should keep on going.”

  “I agree. Cyra, wake up Ellie. I'll wake your dad...”

  “Your dad?” Theo's eyes slump into a frown.

  I move towards Ellie and shake her shoulder gently, speaking as I go.

  “It's a long story, Theo. I'll tell you about it later.”

  “But...”

  “Later, Theo.”

  Ellie's eyes crack open as I shake a little harder. I see a light sheen of tears glazed over them. She looks weak, fragile. I talk to her softly.

  “Honey, we need to keep on going.”

  She sits up, her skin pale and clammy. Across the cave, my father stands to address us all, having been awoken by Jackson.

  “OK, everyone. We will reach the tunnel exit by the end of the day. It will be good to taste fresh air again. Gather your things. We have a long walk ahead.”

  The journey through the darkness resumes. Torches are turned on to light our way, guiding our path through the labyrinth. We fall into step in a similar pattern to the previous couple of days; my father leading, often with Jackson, me comforting Ellie, Theo alone at the back.

  As we go, my father and Jackson spend much time talking. Their bond has grown tight, that of master and apprentice, captain and lieutenant. Regular looks back at me suggest I'm a hot topic of conversation.

  Theo stays silent through the day, still lost in his mind. I know that he, like Ellie, is thinking of Link. Thinking of the young man who'd he'd never seen eye to eye with, and yet who saved his life. His sacrifice allowed Theo to live. It is a lot to live up to.

  As the long march continues, I leave Ellie and drift back to him. He smiles weakly, maintaining a little distance between himself and the rest of the group. I ask him why.

  “I don't feel like I belong,” he says meekly. “No one is going to trust me.”

  “I trust you,” I say firmly.

  “Thanks, Cyra. But I'm the son of two Eden Councillors. Not many people will agree with you.”

  “Then that's their problem, Theo. Without you, we'd never have made it this far. You're just as much a part of this as every one of us.”

  I reach to him and squeeze his hand. It seems to satisfy something inside him, enough to change the subject.

  “So, the Leader is your father? How is that possible?”

  “It's a long story, like I said.”

  “We have time, Cyra. Tell me.”

  And so I do. Keeping a close eye on Ellie ahead, now being comforted by Jackson, I tell Theo all about my father, his supposed death, and his rise to the top of this rebel cause. He nods and shakes his head in all the right places. Only seldom does he ask a question or break my stride.

  When I'm done, all he says is: “it must be amazing finding him again. Like Jackson...”

  He gazes at me, and then turns away. We both fall silent.

  We continue, passing through large cavernous openings, crossing bridges over sheer drops into the deep, and squeezing through tight spaces as the interior of the mountain shifts and changes. Aside from the lights from our torches, everything remains pitch black. It's a fear that Theo used to hold. The Grid, his training, stamped that fear out of him. Not once does he appear to flinch at the never ending darkness.

  Eventually, the faint sign of light beckons ahead. Natural light, orange and red, dancing on the rock walls in the distance.

  I hear Drake speak..

  “We're nearly there,” he calls.

  Our pace quickens. I feel a breeze of fresh air pouring down the narrow tunnel. It tastes so sweet after the suffocating, still atmosphere of the mountain interior.

  Gradually, the light grows brighter, more intense. We go faster, and turn a short bend. There I see it. An orange doorway, bright against the darkness, signalling the end of our claustrophobic journey.

  We burst out onto the mountainside, standing on a short plateau overlooking a vast expanse of hills and valleys ahead. The sun sits low in the sky, clouds billow past as the wind howls in our ears. The colours are magnificent. Reds and oranges and deep yellows blanketing the world as the sun touches the horizon.

  And then, below, I see them. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Sitting and standing in a valley beneath us. Men and women and children, old and young. Survivors of the attack on the city who have travelled through the tunnel ahead of us.

  Drake turns to me.

  “They're waiting for us, Cyra. Our journey is far from over.”

  2 - The People Gather

  Standing on the plateau, emerging at sunset, we all look down on the sea of refugees below. Drake stands ahead, the rest of us slightly behind, staring in awe at the gathering of people.

  “They're waiting for us?” I ask.

  Drake turns back to me.

  “They need to be led, Cyra. That is my duty here.”

  “Duty? That doesn't sound any different from the regions, from the mainland. I thought you were trying to change things her
e?”

  He smiles. “Oh, we are, but the world still needs to turn. People still need to work. Things need to be done, Cyra. It's not all black and white, but there's a subtle difference: here, people chose to do the duties they are best at. These people chose me as their leader, and I chose to accept that, to lead them. It's mutual, there's respect. It's nothing like the mainland, where some test determines your lot in life. Where Eden control everything. We aim to change all of that. Change things back to how they used to be.”

  He turns back to look over the throng below, eyes steely and determined. Slowly, people begin to notice him, begin looking up from below. A murmuring begins to rumble through the crowd as more eyes rise up. Soon, everyone is staring up, cheering and calling out the name of Drake Drayton, their Leader.

  Drake raises his arms, stretching them out ahead of him. The people go suddenly quiet. Shouts turn to whispers and then to nothing. A silence dawns as the sun sets.

  “I know that many of you have lost loved ones,” he calls out, his deep voice penetrating the sudden lull. “Fathers and mothers and husbands and wives. Son and daughters. Brothers and sisters. Dearest friends. Many of you are in pain. Many are suffering.”

  I turn to see Ellie dip her head, a tear trickling down her cheek.

  “This world we live in isn't fair. It is harsh and cruel and unforgiving. We are here to change that. We are here to make sure that Eden suffers like we have. That High Chancellor Knight's reign of terror and control ends. He is the one who placed all of us here. But for all his cunning, he's made one crucial error: he's united us all against him. He's given us a reason to live and to fight. The attack on the city was just the latest ammunition to arm us, fuel us, drive us on. We must use it, let it fill us with anger, with hatred. We must fight back!”

  A cheer rings out from the valley, rising up like a tornado from below. Even from this distance I can see the fury on people's faces. Not fear any longer. Not sorrow and grief. But rage.

  Again, I turn to Ellie, and her chin has lifted. Her mouth has set. The grimace of pain has morphed into one of anger. Her eyes carry the glint of vengeance.