7. Raven
Aheavy flint aroma clung to the air, but everything beyond the train appeared calm. Too calm, actually.
No people wandered the platform. No animals or bugs made a sound. The only noise―the rustle of a soft wind rearranging loose leaves upon the boarding platform.
The creatures continued to fly overhead, but they hovered frightfully high in the sky, leaving the train and my team alone. For now, anyway.
I started to lift my bag but stopped and let it drop back to the seat. Freed my hands from the straps, because…
Chace leaned close and peered over my shoulder to what lay beyond the window.
Many windows adorned the platform side of the train, and he chose to look out the same window as me? Pressing into my personal space, no less. Ugh. So utterly annoying.
His body heat pressed uncomfortably at my back, and his breath warmed my cheek. Unwanted shivers raced up my spine as my muscles stiffened. The situation, although not quite like having the enemy crawl into my bed, rang awfully similar. Too much so for my liking.
“Mind backing up?” I said, a growl lacing my delivery.
He hummed, extended his head forward to better see beyond me, and murmured. “I might.”
On the awaiting platform, weeds cut through cracks in the stone floor, vines clung to surrounding supports and the ticket booth, and dirt and leaves littered the patch. Beyond the platform, a beltway of trees and nature softened the view of a distant wall to eclipse all other walls.
Surely, it reached into the heavens.
“I don’t like it,” Chace said, his focus tight on the scene beyond the train.
I spun to face him. “You know what I don’t like? You standing so insufferably close.”
Pressing my palm to his chest, I forced him to step back. His body vibrated with silent chuckles, sending tingles through my fingers, even as the strong thrum of his pulse beneath my touch―
My thoughts screeched to a halt, and my heart fluttered with the fierce intensity of a trapped bird’s flapping wings.
With lightning speed, I snapped my hand back and pressed it to my breast.
Mr. Aldine approached and glanced over me. He tried to smile, but the expression failed. “Like it or not, this is where we get off. I hope you brought some of that fine success you experienced on your last task.”
So do I, I thought. So do I.
Without the soul-stripping accessory, of course.
I grabbed my bag and said a silent prayer to the death god Thanatos that whatever contraband my father had slipped inside my bag would be exactly what we needed to complete this task and go home.
No sooner had the three of us exited the train and stood on the platform than the train blew its whistles and turned its gears. It chugged away from the station at such a speed it conjured images of a locomotive anxiously escaping hell.
I placed the train’s departure at my back, willing myself not to dwell on the transport’s exit. Instead, all my focus fastened on what lay ahead.
The platform broke into paths on either side, which moved in opposite directions. Mr. Aldine pulled a map from his pocket and gave it a cursory glance, an action appearing more for show than need.
He jabbed a point to our right. “This way. The citadel’s main gate should only be a few hundred yards from here.”
“Lead the way,” Chace said to Mr. Aldine, then he glanced at me.
His face appeared blank, but his shoulders stiffened, and his arms tensed. I swore his throat bobbed. He must have been as excited as I was about this task. Excitement that ranked in the negative digits.
We walked at a slow and steady pace, keeping watch for any danger that might pop out at us along the way, but everything remained relatively quiet—if we didn’t count the cries of the creatures in the sky. Cries that sounded too similar to sobs. A fact I tried not to dwell upon.
Mr. Aldine chose a broad path, one bordered by enormous trees, and weaved through an overgrown landscape.
The sky morphed from shades of gray to the dark of night, and the density of the trees shifted from thick to thin as our journey continued.
We walked until the tree line ended and gave way to an overly long, wide stone bridge.
At the far end of the bridge, a blocked gate stood within the heaven-reaching wall.
“The Royal Citadel of Veritas, I presume.” I kept my tone calm and sarcastic, but inside, my gut roiled, churning with nausea.
I linked my arms behind my back, ready to grab my travel scythe at the first sign of trouble.
“You would presume correctly.” Mr. Aldine positioned himself at the edge of the bridge and studied the forward path.
He clicked his teeth and scratched his beard.
Chace stretched his head forward and frowned. “Don’t see anything dangerous.” He shifted his gaze to me. “Except maybe Raven.”
The edges of his eyes crinkled with silent laughter.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” I sneered.
He responded with a smug smile then looked away.
“Keep your heads on the task,” Mr. Aldine snapped. “Just because you don’t see a danger doesn’t mean one isn’t present.” He heaved a heavy breath and squared his shoulders. “Nothing is going to get done by us standing here all day. Let’s go.”
He took one step onto the bridge and waited. Nothing happened. He took another. Still nothing. He moved forward five steps, then ten.
“Come on.” He waved Chace and me forward.
The stone path before me appeared normal enough.
“Here we go,” I said under my breath.
Surveying the sides of the bridge, I spied no trap waiting to spring. Still, I stepped cautiously, and I prepared myself to lurch out of the way at the first sign of danger.
Chace kept pace at my side. I caught his narrowed sideways glance every now and again. No doubt he picked out every little thing I did wrong. He was probably making a list.
Chace and I trailed in Mr. Aldine’s wake down the center of the bridge. Iron lanterns adorning the side railings flickered to life as true night began to slip over us. Nearly at the halfway point, Mr. Aldine stopped and flared his hands at his sides, signaling us to halt.
Ever since we’d exited the train, I’d felt a charge in the air around us. Likely a result of the flash bombs. But there, on the bridge, the atmosphere felt electrified three-fold.
I shuddered as Chace whispered, “What is it?”
Our elder raised a hand, as if to feel the air, possibly studying something unseen. The space in front of him shimmered in a slight shade of aqua—a wall of distortion cutting across the bridge from side to side. Its presence slightly morphed the view of the walkway and wall beyond.
Squaring my shoulders, I shifted my weight and swallowed the ugly lump in my throat.
What exactly am I looking at? An energy field? Magic?
I tilted my head. The barrier expanded continuously in all directions, possibly surrounding the entire citadel. Whatever it was, it was likely dangerous, and so I held my ground.
“What are you guys looking at?” Chace stepped forward.
I reached for him out of instinct, attempting to hold him back, but I missed. Rivals or not, I didn’t want to see him hurt…or worse. Thankfully, he stopped at Mr. Aldine’s side.
“Halt right there.” The call came from the far side of the bridge.
Nestled against the right side, where the bridge met the citadel wall, stood a small guard tower.
A guy in uniform stepped free and cupped his hands around his mouth to help his voice travel. “This area isn’t safe to pass. I suggest you turn around and go back from whence you came.”
He was the first living thing we’d seen since exiting the train. Aside from the flying creatures.
I inched a tad closer so I might get a better view. From the play of darkening shadows on the glass of the guard tower, I suspected another guard might be holed up within.
“We have business here,” Mr. Aldine called. “We need to get inside.”
“No outsider has had business here in years. Longer, even,” the guy replied.
Mr. Aldine cupped his hands around his mouth. “We’ve been sent by the Collections Office.”
“Collections?” The guard stood taller.
A guy in civilian attire stepped free from the tower, confirming my suspicions. The two individuals exchanged words and then spun their attention to Mr. Aldine.
“As in dues owed?” the guard asked, a chuckle dancing within his delivery.
I blinked. The use of the word dues could reference many things, including and beyond the souls my team hoped to transition.
Chace made no effort to hide his smirk as he whispered, “So much for rule number five and anonymity.”
“He did not name us specifically,” Mr. Aldine murmured. “Nothing the guard said suggests he one hundred percent knows who or what we are.”
I shifted my attention from Chace to our elder. “Mr. Aldine?”
He shook his head. “After all this citadel has been through, it makes sense they would be familiar with collectors of various origins who have likely come knocking. Our kind, of course, would never divulge the type of collection sought. But there are others―”
“Your kind have tried to enter, and they have all failed in some form or another,” the uniformed guard announced.
“I recommend you toss your written request through the barrier, and I shall see that it makes its way into the hands of our Minister of Coin. Not that you, or anyone, should expect payment anytime soon.”
Chace barked a laugh. “He thinks we’re tax collectors or the like. As if we look the part.”
He delivered his comment so as not to be heard at the far end of the bridge.
Mr. Aldine nodded, his gaze giving him the look of an individual lost in thought.
I pressed my lips into a tight pucker.
“But toss your request far and hard,” the guard continued. “For the barrier is thick and wicked.”
The idea that the three of us had been sent on an impossible task, one we were meant to fail, sank roots deep into the inner workings of my mind.
Sighing, I allowed a frown to rule my expression.
Under the circumstances, the idea of the citadel being behind in every type of payment made sense.
But the notion that a place clearly under cursed duress continued to be nagged about their taxes when no obvious help had been imparted―unconscionable.
The authoritative stance of all take and no give twisted my gut in all the wrong ways.
The plain-clothed guy on the opposite side of the bridge mumbled something to the guard. The guard shook his head, pointed to a high point on the wall, then pushed the guy back several steps.
My attention immediately swung to the wall, scouring stone after stone until…
A rudimentary monitoring system.
Someone watched everything at the citadel’s gate. Could the surveillance be the first clue to my first question: was this barrier meant to keep people out, or keep them in?
A heavy weight dropped in my chest. No matter what the answer turned out to be, I suspected I would not like it.
“Like I said,” the guard hollered. “You may leave your request for the Minister of Coin. Then I suggest you all turn around and go back where you came from.”
“I actually wouldn’t mind that,” I mumbled.
“As if we could,” Chace replied.
An involuntary smile tugged at the edges of my lips. I didn’t know why it mattered, but comfort bloomed from knowing I was not alone in my current misery. Even if the other miserable individual happened to be Chace Badden.
The guy in common attire, on the other side of the magical barrier, repositioned himself beside a wooden door set within the larger main gate. “You can cross the bridge if you want, but my buddy is right. Those who cross are rarely satisfied with the results.”
He yanked open the door and feigned surprise as someone darted past him onto the bridge. “Oops.”
With a theatrical show of hands, he stepped through the open doorway into the citadel and disappeared behind a small crowd of people waiting to pour free.
“What have you done?” The guard raced to the open door and began shoving the people back inside while trying to return the door to its closed position.
The first person to dart free of the wall hurried in our direction at an awkward run. Small and wrapped in undefined garments, identifying them as male, female, or something else bordered on difficult.
With each step closer, they chanted over and over, “Freedom. Freedom. Freedom.”
“No.” The guard threw his arms wide but made no effort to pursue the escapee.
“Freedom. Freedom. Freedom.”
The closer they got, the more their features became discernible. Something about them seemed…off.
The escapee raced straight into the wide band of aqua air―the almost invisible barrier situated between us and the citadel.
A gale overtook the bridge, flaring my cloak and whipping my ponytail wildly at my back. I planted my feet and fought against the wind to stand my ground. The added force made the possibility to turn and run so easy and inviting, but I didn’t. I held my stance and stared, my mouth agape.
The person in the midst of the aqua barrier froze, as if trapped against a wall of sticky tape. “Freeeee—”
Their face contorted. Their body widened, flattened, and took on a new, unrecognizable form.
The direction of the wild wind shifted, thrusting up and out. It carried away a putrid odor—something akin to oozing, rotting flesh.
I yelped, then gagged, jerking my hand to my chest.
The person on the bridge vanished.
Gone, but not gone.
Emerging from the aqua energy—a dark, winged creature. One of the flying creatures from the train.
It flew straight at us.
Shhhriek.