An Ancient Art Ch. 11

Stephen approached the opening on hands and knees, staring into the darkness. A strangled whimper came from within.

"Please don't be afraid." Stephen hated his own words, knowing that such would have been less than reassuring during his capture. "I promise that we are here to help you."

After a strained moment a shaking, filth clad, but graceful hand came into view followed by a terrified but snarling child, a girl Stephen noticed despite her poor condition.

"Who are you?" Her voice was dry and shaking, but it was strong, her high-class breeding shining through her fear. Her eyes darted from Stephen to Lynk, waiting for them to attack.

"We're here to help, to get you out of here."

She nudged out of her prison slowly, no doubt her legs still numb from her time trapped in her cramped cell. She gave Lynk a distrustful glance, his pale skin marking him as slum-bred. She addressed Stephen as she stood straight, two feet smaller than Stephen, "Are you the Observer's men?"

Stephen didn't want to lie to her in her fearful state. He needed her trust to get her back to the City. "No, but we will save you."

Crestfallen she said, "How?"

Lynk cut in, "Stay quiet and do as you're told."

"Who are you to order me about? I am Lady Narine Wiuni."

"Congratulations your Ladyship." Lynk performed a small mock bow. "How did you plan on escaping?"

"Quiet, both of you, this isn't helping." Wait, Wiuni, where had Stephen heard that name? "Lynk open the other crates."

Lynk gave Lady Wiuni a wicked smile before moving to the other crates. The next two were thankfully empty, but the fourth and fifth held two others, both boys, both terrified. One wore a ripped and tattered school uniform, his family name embroidered on his chest in gold: Maefrin. The reported missing children. His father's information had been correct. This was the Governor's son, shaking and weeping silent tears. Stephen didn't recognise the other boy who appeared barely conscious, but guessed he was of the same social standing as the other two hostages. The boy looked ready to collapse. Stephen went to his aid and helped carry him to his fellow prisoners. All looked wearily at Lynk.

"Listen carefully. We are going to get you all out of here and back to your families."

Maefrin began to tremble, "A-are you really here to help us?"

"Yes. My name is Stephen. This is Lynk."

Lynk stood silently, his hand on the wall and his eyes closed and screwed up in concentration. Stephen went to him.

"What are you doing?"

Lynk spoke without opening his eyes, "There is another exit. The code hasn't been changed in years, centuries. I'm guessing Legion and his men don't know about it." Lynk's eyes suddenly opened and widened in dismay. "Shit. They already know someone's entered this building. You have to take the kids and leave now."

"What?"

"I can keep Legion's attention focused on this building if you leave through the other exit. Do you remember the way we came?"

Stephen's memory was exceptional and he remembered the route as though it was implanted in his mind, but that was not important.

"I can't leave you here. Leader will kill you. You don't have to-"

Lynk suddenly struck out his free arm and took a tight hold of Stephen's nape, tugging at the loose hair there. "Don't argue with me. It's my fault that you're here. The kids won't survive in the slums by themselves. You have to lead them. You promised them."

Stephen steadied his voice and looked Lynk in the eye, "Lynk, you've seen what he's capable of."

"That's why you need to leave. He won't kill me. He needs me. He needs me to get to you."

Stephen clutched at Lynk's wrists. "You don't know that for sure."

The girl's, Lady Wiuni's, voice broke into their hushed words, "What's happening? Aren't we supposed to be escaping?"

"Yes." Lynk said, but to Stephen, "Yes, you need to escape."

Stephen's throat tightened, "Lynk, please don't-"

His words were crushed. Lynk's mouth on his, hungrily, desperately silencing his protests.

They parted before their kiss was finished, before it had really begun. Stephen felt his body being shoved hard, losing Lynk's warmth, his taste, his scent.

"Go. Now!" Lynk resumed tightening the security. His back turned on Stephen.

Stephen gnawed his lips and closed his eyes to Lynk. Weak desperate hands tugged and pulled at him and soon his legs were moving from Lynk's side. A section of the wall lifted and slid to the side, revealing the hidden door. His face was cold when the night air hit it. His eyes blind in the darkness did not deter his wandering feet, soon running to the flickering lights of the slums, a feeble beacon.

The children held hands as they ran, the unknown boy in the centre, supported by the other two. Stephen remained ahead of them, his eyes skinned, hoping against hope that they made it, that the children could keep up, that Lynk-. He hadn't the courage to finish that thought. Every muscle, every fibre, every atom of his being fought to turn and run back for Lynk.

The quietened thumping of following feet beating the grass and then the cracked ancient concrete surrounded him, deafened him to anything else. Except for what sounded in the distance: a roar, a raging fierce growl of growing flames that lit up the field as though the sun was raging war against the Earth. His heart was in his mouth, clogging the distressed cry tearing his throat to pieces. Fire consumed the building they had fled, where Lynk was still trapped.