Bren has a funny way of speaking, almost proper-sounding, not like Adele’s sister, Elsey, who tends to overdramatize things, but very formal and serious, as if the fate of the world depends on his diction and word choice. But regardless of the manner in which he conveys his message, his words are pure. This is a guy who wants to do the right thing. He’s one of us.
“Can you help us?” I ask, not really realizing the trust I’m putting in the servant until the words escape my lips.
“We cannot linger here much longer, as even now I fear the war is slipping away below us. But we will do what we can.”
“All we need is safe passage to the palace—I mean, the presidential complex. Can you show us the best way?”
“Ah, now that is truly a simple request. We’ll have you there within the hour. But then we must be off to join the forces below, for we will not sit idly by while the fate of the world rests on a knife’s edge.”
What Bren doesn’t know is that we’re the ones holding the knife.
Chapter Nineteen
Adele
I’m glad to be off the streets again.
Meeting Bren will either be the greatest stroke of luck to grace our mission thus far, or the coincidence that leads to our demise. Being a servant, he is one I’d certainly trust over anyone else up here. In any case, we’ve decided to follow him through the underground sewer system below the city, a dark, dank, and somber place that reminds me more of home than anything I’ve seen in the Sun Realm thus far.
We walk along the edge of the cylindrical concrete shaft that we find ourselves in, avoiding getting our feet wet sloshing through the thin stream of water that runs down the center. Tawni’s heels are off again, this time for good. Before discarding them in the water, I overheard her say, “I’ll miss you, pretty shoes,” which I don’t understand at all, and probably never will.
Bren has a flashlight, which saves us from using ours. As he walks abreast with his still-silent brother and sister, he explains the situation as he knows it. “I have information from a reliable source that the sun dwellers launched a coordinated attack last night on every major moon dweller border. They started with heavy bombing, which was then followed by large contingents of soldiers moving in to take control of each subchapter. The moon dwellers had little chance of stopping them.”
I can’t breathe, the thick oxygen sticking in my throat like glue. I stop, wheezing, my elbows dropping to my knees.
“Adele, what’s the matter?” Tristan says. His hand gently touches my back.
“What subchapters?” I choke out.
“I do not know,” Bren says. “But I do know subchapter one was hit the hardest.”
My legs start shaking and my vision blurs. Unable to hold up my weight any longer, I roll to the side, my shoulder thudding off the unforgiving concrete. My cheek scrapes against the rough surface, but I don’t care. No mark on my face could be as bad as what I’ve just heard. “We’re too late,” I moan. “It’s over.”
Tristan’s face appears through my tears as he kneels over me. “There’s still hope,” he says. “If she survived there will be a trial. She’ll be sentenced to death, but we might be able to rescue her before that happens.”
“And if she didn’t survive?” I say, images of my mom’s battered face cycling through my mind in black and white.
“She did,” Tristan asserts, “but if she didn’t, you still have your sister to take care of. If we can finish our mission, it could still make a difference for anyone still alive, especially for the non-military.”
Elsey’s face appears, replacing my dead mother. She’s smiling as usual, despite the war and my dad dying and my mom maybe dying and me being on a potential suicide mission. Just seeing her face for a moment, even if only in my mind, lifts my spirits long enough for me to blink away the tears and allow Tristan to help me to my feet.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, unwilling to look any of my comrades in the face after my mini-meltdown. “I’m okay now.”
“Screw ’em,” Trevor says. “As long as we’re alive, they’ve got a fight on their hands.”
When I look up my friends are staring at me. Tristan’s brow is furrowed and worried. Tawni looks ready to throw her arms around me. Roc is, well, he’s Roc, solid and steady and reliable, his hand half-extended, as if ready to catch me if my legs fail again. And Trevor: his face is a scowl, an expression that represents the righteous anger inside him, an anger that will only help us finish this mission together. His face, more than any of the others, steels me the most. My knuckles tighten at my sides as a surge of fire runs through me.
“Let’s end this,” I say.
We continue our march through the sewer, and my legs feel the lightest they’ve felt since leaving the Moon Realm. I can almost feel my friends, my sister, my mother, even my father, holding me up, becoming a part of me, supporting me. We’re in this together, still alive, still whole, still hopeful.
What was a steely determination to kill the man who ordered the death of my father, the maiming of my baby sister, has turned into a fierce and burning desire for revenge. Not just for those who I know that have been harmed by the cruel dictator who sits on his throne deep in the capital, but for everyone whose lives have been negatively impacted by his evil ways. We can’t get to him fast enough for me. Every muscle and ligament and bone in my body is firing perfectly, working efficiently as a team, and I know that when we do meet him I’ll be unstoppable, the most powerful and deadly force that he’s ever seen.
And then I’ll kill him.
Unfortunately, another hour of tromping, head stooped, through the sewers, takes just a bit of the fight out of me. Mostly we’ve been silent, although every once and a while Trevor will say something to try to fire us up, but even he’s been quiet for the last ten minutes.
“How big is this city?” I finally ask, in frustration.
“Big,” Tristan says. “Bigger than you can possibly imagine. Think the biggest moon dweller city and then multiple that by a hundred.”
His explanation makes it even harder for me to imagine. How can one fathom the fathomless? Anyway, we’re not trying to get all the way across it, just to the center, so it can’t be that far, right?
Wrong.
Neck aching, legs burning, mouth dry, spirit shattered, I stop an hour later when Bren pulls up in front of us.
“We’ve got to be close,” Tristan says, making my head perk up a little. He knows the size of the city better than me.
“We are,” Bren says. “And this is where we must part ways. For our path takes us below, while I suspect yours takes you straight to your father.”
“Good to luck to you, Bren,” Tristan says, clasping the servant’s hand. “We are forever in your debt.”
“Succeed in whatever your mission is, and all debts shall be forgiven,” Bren returns. Then, turning to Roc, he says, “Brother, forgive me for not trusting in the purity of your heart sooner. I very much would have liked to stand beside you in this fight.”
“And you, my friend,” Roc says, once more embracing him. “Linus, Sinew—listen to your brother. He has good instincts.”
The silent siblings nod solemnly, before the threesome head in the other direction, beginning the long walk back to where they started, and then on a dangerous journey to the Moon Realm, or what’s left of it. Just before the head of Bren’s flashlight disappears in the dark, Tristan calls out, “Where do we go?”
“A hundred yards more and you’ll reach a ladder. That’ll get you close,” Bren shouts, his echoes fading into the distance along with him.
“When we get to the ladder we can rest and make plans,” Tristan says. No one can argue with that idea.