Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Fadon
It was pure chaos everywhere he looked. The cervos had gone mad, throwing off their riders, their eyes rolling back in fear, muzzles steaming. Fadon tried to crawl away, out of the melee. He needed to get to Sierra, but his arms just didn’t seem to work. That horrible piercing flash of sound when he’d tried to open the front doors still screamed in his head.
While his jellied arms fought for purchase, he searched the bond that connected him to his mate, something he had yet to perfect. He could feel her, somewhere, and other than a feeling of apprehension, he felt nothing like true fear coming from it. He’d have to be content with that. For now. Until he could touch her in the flesh.
“Fadon!” Mari’s face came into view beside him. She was also attempting to stand. “We need to get inside.”
“Where’s Lucius?”
A boom shook the ground, then, causing Fadon to collapse to his side, Mari tumbling head-first against his chest.
“What in Ongar was that?” he asked, trying to sit up. The ground was like ice, the soil hard and wet. Finally, he managed to pull himself up, and he looked down at his sister and helped her stand. Looking around him, he could see the other Ongahri getting to their feet, too. Whatever had befallen them had waned, thank Ongar. Now he could look about and try to locate Sierra.
But she wasn’t there.
He did see Lucius, who was trudging through a group, his mouth forming words that Fadon couldn’t make out in all the noise.
“Fadon?” Ander was at his side, panting as if he’d run for miles.
“Sierra’s not with you?
“No, she rode with... Shit, I don’t know who she rode with. What did Lady Lordes mean?”
Fadon ignored the question. “Wait. She didn’t ride with you?” Fuck. “Have you seen Demos, Phobius?”
Ander shook his head. “Not since we entered the gates, I don’t think.”
Another sound now, like a wrenching, a whoosh.
“What the…” Before his eyes, the ground came to life. Deep green vines and stalks started protruding from the ground several feet away from him, closer to the perimeter of the Basilica. He watched on in awe as shoots of vegetation crawled up the walls, going from verdant green to brown as it competed with the cold.
The air stirred, bringing forth the smells of springtime and dew, long-sleeping soil.
“What’s happening?” Mari asked, her voice rising and reminding Fadon of when she was small.
Fadon couldn’t answer her. His eyes were focused on those vines that were now infiltrating the front doors. It was as if they had a mind, an intention to get those doors open. Fadon had never seen anything like it.
And then those tall, imposing doors sprung open like the mouth of a massive animal, snapping wide and slamming against the stone walls.
He and the others who were watching wasted no time running inside.
The cavernous entrance was empty. There was another boom, licking underneath their feet, but they kept running. With weapons drawn, they split up, Fadon remembering the outline of the Order’s map, the pathways that Phobius and Demos had grilled them on over the past few days.
But the question was: where was everyone? He expected a mass of robed Servants. Instead, the place was empty of the living, leaving only incense and echoes. It was only the Ongahri with him that breathed life into the place.
He could hear Lucius somewhere behind him calling out orders. Mari ran at Fadon’s side, and for a moment he worried that she wouldn”t have any protection. But when he glanced over at her, he saw determination, fierce and focused, on her face, and knew she’d kill anyone with that dagger she had clenched in her fist.
They were just turning a corner when they heard Lucius’ shout, a sound that chilled Fadon’s bones.
“Get out now! Retreat!”
He and Mari looked at one another, and as soon as they turned back, Lucius was flying into the air. Stained glass windows burst from without like a giant wave, crashing with a magnificent cacophony of sound. There were shouts from the entrance, a few moans. Fadon grabbed Mari and made his way to Lucius’ side.
“Retreat!” someone called. “They have the weapon!”
Ongar. If it was anything like that weapon Lucius had showed the blueprints of…
“Fuck!” Jon called out somewhere nearby.
Fadon got on his knees and placed a hand under Lucius’ head. He was unconscious. Blood seeped from a wound buried in Lucius’ sable hair, warming Fadon’s hand. “Somebody help me carry him out!”
Mari was barking orders, calling names. Finally, two Ongahri rushed over and helped Fadon lift Lucius. Debris filled the hall, and there was so much dust from plaster and sediment in the air that it was like smoke. Finally, carefully, they made it back outside.
“Make sure everyone is out!” Mari threw out her Alpha’s call, and Fadon’s heart rate picked up, a growl building in his chest.
The ground was pocked with toiled turf, the detritus of twisted, dying ropes of vines. He glanced around, grunting at Lucius’ weight. He saw a new team of Ongahri entering through the gates on cervos, some on horses. Fadon ignored them, though, and led the men who were helping with Lucius set him down onto a grassy patch. Grass?
Grass as green as an emerald blanket.
Not possible.
He wondered idly what exactly, or who exactly, was inside the Basilica that was causing such destruction.
Now laid out flat, Lucius looked pale, his lips parted slightly, dust flaking his eyelashes. Completely unconscious.
“What happened?” Chantis of the Halifax Tribe asked, squatting down at Lucius’ opposite side. He began to pull out bandages from a satchel that was wrapped around his chest.
Fadon explained about an explosion, while Chantis worked to staunch the blood, wrapping Lucius’ head in linen. The blood was already clotting, thankfully. Fadon knew how much a scalp could bleed. It seemed that Lucius was merely concussed. Hopefully, no damage had been done.
“Is he all right?” asked Mari, coming up and placing a hand on Fadon’s shoulder. He looked up at her, noting her hair and face covered in soot and dried plaster.
“I think so. Just knocked out. How many others are inside?”
“Aside from Demos and… Fadon, is Sierra in there?”
Ongar, he prayed she wasn’t, but he had a feeling that was exactly where his mate was.