City of Dust Read online

  My heart started to pound. August had a quarter of the guard Cassius had surrounding him, and I shouldn’t care. But I did.

  ‘Poor Cassius,’ he continued, unfazed by Cassius’s clear advantage, ‘left to ponder how his big brother worked it all out, while playing lapdog to Octavia. And it’s a shackle you just can’t throw off, isn’t it? Which is why you brought in Octavia’s toxic niece. A girl barely out of military training, to do your dirty work while you hide behind your precious programme.

  ‘But the truth is, it doesn’t matter how many laboratories and scientists you have at your disposal, or how many times you mix up the DNA and invent a new hybrid, because the one thing you desire most of all … your brother’s approval … is dust. Just like him.’

  ‘Silentium!’ Cassius roared, pulling his Diasord from his belt and jumping down into the aisle. His griffin swiftly followed, throwing its magenta head back with a rapacious crow.

  I glanced around for Eli again, desperate to know if he was reeling like me.

  Cassius was Thomas’s younger brother? It couldn’t be true. Could it?

  It was so improbable, it made no sense, and yet simultaneously … all the sense in the world.

  I forced myself to think, my head racing with August’s revelations. I already knew Cassius was one of the few original scientists from the time the domes were created; and that he, Octavia and Thomas had been part of the same team working on the Voynich at the time of the Great War. But now I was to believe they were actually related? A shiver stole down my spine.

  How could I be staring at Cassius, flesh and blood, with Thomas all but dust in the ground?

  And if Cassius and Thomas shared a blood tie, and Thomas was my ancestor, didn’t that mean Cassius, Eli and I must also share a blood tie?

  Bile started to crawl up my throat. The idea that Cassius was related to me was repugnant to the core, and yet every cell of my body felt shadowed with the truth. Perhaps it was the part of me that also found it hard to deny August. Dark to dark. I shuddered.

  ‘And now you know he chose best. He took a chance, didn’t he? A chance on a real life between the red earth and blue sky.’

  August was in full combat mode as he prowled across the large grey flagstones. I dug my nails into the fleshy parts of my hands, not wanting to watch and yet unable to drag my eyes away.

  ‘And everything since – the experiments, the games, the Prolet trials, the hunt for the chimera code, the disowning of your own son … it’s all been about your jealousy… Jealousy of the brother, who even in his grave bequeathed a far greater legacy than you could ever dream of.’

  I stared as August’s convoluted revelations grew more tangled by the second.

  ‘The disowning of your own son?’

  More mystery underpinned by another nagging truth that had been there all the time. I inhaled sharply.

  Cassius lunged before August had even finished, his Diasord gleaming in the pale dawn light, and sending up a spiral of smoke as it struck the stone floor. August whipped out an ugly-looking metal blade, but I could tell it was no match for the weapon Cassius was brandishing.

  Cassius smiled caustically.

  ‘Did Pantheon’s disgraced son lose his Diasord on his pointless crusade? But this makes it all too easy!’

  He lunged again, and this time caught August’s forearm. A scent of burning flesh filled the air and two of August’s battalion started forward. I sucked my breath in, and suppressed the urge to run in.

  He wasn’t who I thought he was. Perhaps he deserved this.

  ‘Stay!’ August yelled to his soldiers, readying himself again.

  This time his lunge struck Cassius powerfully across the shoulder, sending him staggering across the floor. He crashed into a stone pillar before steadying himself and looking back with a menacing scowl.

  ‘Kill them … But not Augustus – I have a more useful end in mind for him,’ he hissed, his voice making a long, sibilant sound around the cold space.

  ‘No!’

  Aelia’s cry split the air as she pelted down the aisle to join her brother.

  ‘Get back, Lia!’ August roared, just as one of the mounted guards reared, his Diasord outstretched.

  For a second the whole world drained to black and white as she flew towards August, blind to the teetering griffin until it crashed with a victorious crow, her slight body receiving the full impact of its serrated beak. A thick scream ricocheted through the cold air. It was a scream that stripped my bones faster than any hungry predator could.

  ‘Aelia!’ I yelled, flying up the left of the nave, only dimly away of Max by my side.

  I skidded to a halt near Leofric as August’s soldiers closed in the centre, forming a defensive group around their Commander General and Aelia’s small, heaped body. My breath came short and jagged. Although August’s soldiers were seasoned gladiators, I could see how exhausted and poorly equipped they were opposite Cassius’s mounted guard. And Aelia wasn’t moving.

  The griffins started closing in, their interest caught by the scent of freshly seared meat that lingered, and their thick lion paws making light work of the broken pillars and decaying pews.

  I caught my breath, fighting to think rationally.

  I didn’t care about him; he was a traitor. Wasn’t he?

  But Aelia was in there.

  ‘This is not Aelia’s fight, Cassius!’ August bellowed, white with fury. ‘She has not been convicted of any crime and you need her. Pantheon needs her!’

  ‘Crime? What an interesting word!’ Cassius ridiculed.

  ‘What about the crime of withholding highly classified information? State information, punishable by death? Or perhaps the crime of inciting a crowd to rebellion? Or then again, how about enlisting the help of an outside community to destroy the Civitas that has nurtured and supported her work! Now, surely that is a crime deserving the very worst traitor’s death? On the contrary, Commander, I think Dr Aelia Vulpes is right where she deserves to be.’

  I tried to swallow, but my mouth was so dry and my head spun with a million conflicting thoughts. Why, despite everything, did I still want to rush in and be the one brandishing a Diasord by August’s side?

  He and his battalion stood protectively around Aelia, their weapons levelled, and his strained Equite face as stony as the bomb-blasted sculptures around us. I flashed back to the Flavium just twelve months before.

  ‘I stand for the Cyclops!’ he’d raged.

  And now he was taking on Octavia’s successor. Which didn’t make any sense, unless …

  I was suddenly aware of Max, pulling me back into the shadows. At my back. Protecting me. Despite everything.

  ‘Stay out of sight,’ he whispered urgently. ‘You’re injured. I’ll find Unus.’

  My stomach lurched as though I’d swallowed a bowlful of raw shellfish. I threw a glance up at the tower, and caught a glimpse of a pale face through the narrow, arrow-slit windows. The young Prolets were marooned in the tower, awaiting judgement by Cassius and his band of executioners. Aelia, the rebel doctor I never thought I’d like, was fast turning out to be the closest thing to a sister I’d ever had – and then there was that damned racking ache in my chest, nowhere near the actual Minotaurus wound. It was enough.

  ‘We have to help them,’ I ground out.

  And there was the truth. I would rather die trying, than let the doubt consume me any more. The relief was as fresh as an Arafel breeze.

  Max scowled, his protest tangible. Before he sighed.

  ‘Feral and free,’ he whispered, leaning forward to gently kiss my forehead.

  And it felt such a ray of peaceful light in the eye of a storm.

  ‘Tell me now?’ I whispered, not trusting myself to look at him.

  ‘No,’ he said vehemently before pulling me to him in the tightest embrace. ‘When we get home and it’s just you, me and the fireflies,’ he breathed.

  And for the briefest second, I was right there.

  And then the ai
r was filled with the angry clash of Diasord and metal. My veins were flooded with purpose, and pulling away, I nodded towards the intact tower.

  ‘Why run when you can fly?’ I challenged.

  He winked, just as though I’d thrown him an apricot.

  ‘Just like at home,’ he added, as we started at a sprint towards the tower.

  The shout went up immediately, but our tree-running limbs covered the ground swiftly, reaching the tower long before they guessed what we were intending. And then we were climbing, scaling the medieval stone walls of the tower like we were tree-running for real, using the uneven stones as we might the knotted branches and forks in the forest.

  And although my wound scorched with every push, there was a cathartic therapy to leaving the ground behind, to scaling a fortress of prayer. We had a peace hut at the top of the valley in Arafel, but there was something about the solid construct of this tower that reached out and supported us back. I could feel people had been strong here, had stood for something other than a world of control and carnage.

  We reached the tower’s topmost windows, just as the first barrage of laser fire came. It ricocheted off the grey dusty walls around us as we pushed through neighbouring stone windows. I was the first to collapse onto the wooden floor inside, taking only a couple of seconds to realize Max wasn’t with me. My world went white.

  ‘Max!’ I yelled in a half-strangled voice, pulling myself up to the next window just as a bloodied hand reached in. Atticus and I grabbed and hauled, as another barrage of crossfire deflected off the thick stone walls.

  ‘You’re hurt?’ I demanded, as he slid in a heap at our feet.

  My chest throbbed as I leaned over him, barely concealing my own agony.

  ‘Pot kettle black!’ he panted, pushing himself up to inspect his left bicep, which oozed a steady trickle of blood.

  It was only a flesh wound, but Therry found some cloth among Lake’s meagre provisions store, and I bound it swiftly.

  When no one was watching, I also grabbed some extra cloths and pushed them in against my own chest wound, which was beginning to seep. It wasn’t a good sign, I knew, but there were bigger things to worry about.

  We took up posts by the windows. Now we were out of sight, the guards had returned their attention to Augustus; and from this vantage I could see he and his gladiators were outnumbered by at least four to one. The odds were terrifying.

  ‘So, whose side are we actually on?’ Max breathed, his eyebrows arching.

  ‘Ours!’ I shot back.

  I lifted my dart tube to my lips and took careful aim.

  ‘More darts!’ I yelled, releasing my first.

  It struck one of Cassius’s guards in the neck and he fell from his griffin with a thud at August’s feet. August threw a look up at the tower, but I couldn’t tell if he was grateful or furious with our intervention. His lips were taut, his expression grim. It didn’t matter, I told myself, I was doing this for Aelia, for the Prolets, for the outside.

  ‘Use the weapons, use anything you can!’ I yelled to the terrified Prolets.

  The eldest took up positions at the narrow windows beside ours, and for the next few minutes we rained down fury, using Atticus’s stockpile as missiles. It seemed fitting somehow, to deploy debris from the old world against debris from the new.

  A number of Cassius’s guards were instantly ordered to return our barrage, dragging their attention from the battalion on the floor to our narrow windows instead, which was precisely the plan.

  ‘Aaergh!’

  The thin scream merged with the deafening Diasord laser fire. I turned just as Faro’s thin body slumped to the stone floor, her pigtails askew and freckles paling. Atticus was at her side in a heartbeat, gently pressing his fingers into her neck. His profile was masked, but a muscle in his cheek throbbed violently, and for the first time I ached for him. He didn’t need to look up for me to know Faro wasn’t coming to Arafel.

  I turned back to my window, trying to ignore the pain darkening the inside of my broken ribcage.

  ‘Are we going to die here?’

  Her question returned like a ghost. And I’d let her believe she wasn’t. Why was it always the ones who deserved it least? Why wasn’t it me?

  I stared at the violence and carnage below us, my thoughts caught up like a storm. August’s soldiers were fighting like lions and the floor was littered with Cassius’s soldiers, but they were still hideously outnumbered. The griffins were moving in like a pack of vultures, ready to make a meal out of those who’d so recently commanded them, Aelia was still heaped in the middle, and I was just too far away.

  My breath was ripped and uneven, and my thoughts were growing uglier by the second. Bodies were strewn everywhere, like the Flavium, dirty and broken. Black to black. Dust to dust. No matter what I did, everyone I loved got hurt. Grandpa, Pan, Lake, Aelia and now Faro. I scanned the floor feeling my emotions drain away like my blood – drop by drop.

  One of August’s exhausted gladiators collapsed directly in front of Aelia’s body. August swung around, trying to widen his ground but she was still too exposed. Two more of Cassius’s cavalry wasted no time in dismounting and moving in, their purpose as vicious as their raised Diasords. And I couldn’t breathe. Aelia’s elfin face flashed before my eyes, her rebellious voice ringing in my ears:

  ‘Kiss my Prolet arse!’

  I knew what I had to do.

  ‘Kiss mine,’ I whispered.

  ‘Cassius!’ I yelled in the next breath, my voice sounding raw and rebellious.

  Boudica, Aelia said. My lip curled and I leapt, poising on the stone window like one of the forest animals from home. There was a shout from the floor and several guards, including the ones close to Aelia, levelled their Diasords. I combed the territory, assessing it as I would in a tree-running trial. There was a crumbling wall to my right, and roughly a ten-metre drop. It wouldn’t be too far in the forest. But here, and with a pierced chest? I closed my eyes. And leapt like a cat.

  Max’s shout rang in my ears as I flew, landing on top of the crumbling, ivy-clad wall with a jolt. I felt the impact right up through my neck and shoulders, and struggled to keep my balance as something warm and wet gushed through my chest bandage. But I knew better than to hesitate. I’d learned that from the animals in the forest.

  ‘To hesitate is to lose, Talia.’

  I caught hold of the crumbling wall edge, and swung down onto solid ground with a leap that only just skirted the Diasord fire. Then I sprinted across the high back of a pew towards the centre of the nave, leaping and diving through the chasing laser fire. Until he raised a black arm and the fire ceased. I fixed my gritty stare on his, willing myself past the pain and weakness blazing inside.

  ‘Ahh, I wondered how long it would take for the wildcat to join us,’ Cassius drawled. ‘But of course, the errant knight is in danger, and no matter what has passed, the wildcat will lurk, waiting for a moment to pounce and trade all her pointless little lives at once. But for what exactly? When the armour has lost its gleam?’

  Silently, I leapt from the back of the pew directly into the centre of the aisle. Facing him. I was now fully exposed, less than ten metres from the man I detested with every bone in my body. My bandage was leaking badly, but something else was flaring through my veins, keeping my limbs moving. I gripped my treehouse dart tube in one hand, and one of my last remaining darts in the other. And forced a smile.

  ‘I guess you could say I’d choose an aquila over a death adder any day.’

  My words emptied slowly, and I had the satisfaction of watching his mouth twitch.

  ‘Truth is, it wasn’t quite as easy to acquire my pointless little life as you thought, was it? When it was just you and me?’

  I advanced with the best prowl the volcano inside would allow.

  ‘You’d have thought a strong Roman Equite like yourself would have the upper hand against this … wildcat … wouldn’t you? But I wasn’t the one who ended up trussed like a chicken for t
he plucking.’

  I smiled as Cassius glowered.

  ‘For the love of Nero, get out of here, Tal!’ August threw out, his voice thick with fatigue. ‘This isn’t your battle; you’ve other priorities!’

  His face was stained with blood, his soldiers were failing, but his eyes flashed with grit and pride.

  Why? Why had he done it?

  ‘Ahh yes, the insurgent Prolet children!’ Cassius mocked. ‘How civilized that you should round them up for us, ready to escort back to Pantheon for investigation … and perhaps a fresh round of vaccinations? We’ve had better success with the latest round.’

  I recalled the pale-faced Prolets incarcerated beneath the Flavium, and ground my teeth. The vaccine was such a violation of free will. It flew directly in the face of everything Grandpa stood for. Everything I’d inherited.

  ‘Yes, when faced with anarchy, eradicate free will!’ I returned. ‘Yet I don’t recall any other great leader in history needing to genetically manufacture his own army. Just where is the Book of Arafel?’ I fired. ‘And Lake … where is the child?’

  Cassius’s face contorted into a sly smile. ‘Where is the page, Talia? And what interest do you have in a child of Pantheon?’

  ‘The same interest as you … Father.’

  I spun around in the direction of the young, familiar voice to find Max, Atticus and Unus bridging the bottom of the nave like a wall. My eyes flew to Atticus’s face.

  He was Cassius’s son?

  I knew it, of course. I just hadn’t been able to admit that the connection was there. And it wasn’t because they bore a resemblance, though Atticus was leaner and taller. The proof was there, in Atticus’s bearing, in his condescension. In his guilt.

  And his sinister address sent fresh nerves haring through my body.

  ‘Atticus!’ Cassius scorned violently. ‘You are no son of mine! Do not expect any special dispensation for this act of disobedience and rebellion. You will be treated exactly the same as the other insubordinates. You will …’

  ‘… unlike his father, be the finest son of Pantheon its people have ever seen!’ August roared, his voice echoing through the church like a prophecy.