The general announced the emperor’s decree to the soldiers, ordering them to spread the word that they were to prepare for war. He began giving orders that he wanted relayed to Thyrion’s armies.
Jaysynn buried his face in his hands. I need to clear my head.
He meandered toward the gaping mouth of the crater.
Dracon called, “My Emperor, do not wander off without an escort!”
Jaysynn replied not as the emperor, but as an adventurous young man. “I doubt there are any assassins around here, General. And you know I can handle myself.”
Dracon huffed. “Ten minutes.”
Jaysynn nodded in reply.
He quickened his pace to a jog and quickly wished he was wearing more comfortable clothes. The shoes, while light, felt restrictive. The shirt and pants limited his movement. The coat weighed him down. He tired out faster than normal–he had been hiding in the bunker too long. So, he slowed down. Walking will have to do. But I miss running. It was so…freeing.
He stopped and inched toward the edge, gazing at the crater that seemed to stretch to the horizon. This gaping wound…would it be fatal to his homeland? Had he ascended to the throne only to watch his city die? Was this how he would be remembered?
What good can I do now? he thought. This is beyond me. Millions dead. Thousands fleeing the city. Our enemies waiting to strike. He hung his head. I just can’t—
Suddenly, the brittle ground crumbled beneath him. Within a second, he slipped into the black crater. Sliding down the slanted cliff face, he twisted around and clawed for a handhold, finding none in the wall. Sharp debris and protrusions cut his clothes and skin, adding fresh wounds to his healing cuts. I won’t die! Not like this!
His hand grabbed a wiry metal rod—the remains of a building’s foundation—and he halted his fall. For several seconds, Jaysynn was motionless, his eyes shut and his lungs gulping air. He felt several wounds across his body begin to bleed, soaking his suit. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked up. He’d slid at least ten feet down. He could call for help, but would anyone hear him? Regardless, he should still try to climb out. There was no telling how long the soldiers would take to find him. He surveyed the wall above him. There were other protrusions from the destroyed foundation. If he was careful…
Jaysynn stretched his hand up and grabbed a slab of concrete, pulling himself up a few inches, his feet finding new footholds. It was his first step. For several long minutes, he inched his way back up. Sweat soaked his suit and stung his eyes, blurring his vision. He had to blink to clear his eyes and find his next handhold. Sweat also dampened his hands, so he could not grip handholds as easily. His mind was focused on finding his next step, so he climbed in silence, never looking higher than a foot or two. He couldn’t risk throwing off his balance with such unreliable holds. Could he handle another fall?
Just then, he heard footfalls above him. He dared to look up. The ledge was just a few feet up—and two Thyrian army officers stood near it.
Adrenaline-laced excitement surged through Jaysynn. He sucked in a breath, his cry for help just behind his lips, when the soldiers’ words silenced him.
“Our scouts keep reporting that the Cataclysm has devastated every city on the continent,” one said.
What? thought Jaysynn.
“So they’re no better off than we are?” asked the second officer.
“We were hit the hardest because we were the epicenter, but our devious neighbors have all lost power and their Wells are dry, just like us.”
“What about their Select?”
“The scouts aren’t sure, but initial reports say they’ve lost their powers, too.”
“No wonder they haven’t invaded.”
“We could’ve avoided this disaster if the Whispers had captured that engineer girl from Jalseion and brought her here in time.”
“Who knows? At least we got her arm and leg.”
“Those aren’t worth the lives we lost getting them.”
They kept talking, but their voices faded into the distance, barely becoming mumbles.
Jaysynn was glad. He did not want to announce his presence and risk arousing those officers’ suspicions, even if he was in trouble. His sweaty fingers were cramping. He’d been holding on too long, listening. He had to hurry.
It took Jaysynn several exhausting, tense moments, but he reached the ledge and pulled himself out of the crater. He crawled several feet from the edge, rolled over, and collapsed on the gravelly ground. Dirt caked on his wet face. His muscles screamed in agony. But it was his mind that was reeling.
I smell a conspiracy.
Don't miss a single word of stories as they are published! You'll also receive first notice of special sales and behind-the-scenes information.