The Reformation Page 18

“If I could, I would’ve. And I can’t let my right foot go, otherwise I’m free-falling backwards, and I do not want to sustain injuries to the back of my skull.”

  There was a pause, a moment where Fey thought that Jan had left, but his voice only a few seconds after she thought it, disproved that theory. “Let your foot go.”

  “What? No.”

  “I’ll catch you. The step your right foot is on will probably give way soon as well. Just-”

  “Trust you?” she finished for him. Incredulous at such a notion. Wondrous if that’s what he meant to say. Curious to know his answer.

  “Trust me.” She didn’t. She didn’t trust him one bit, but she didn’t trust many people, so that wasn’t a surprise. There wasn’t much at stake here anyway, she reasoned. One way, she would probably die for sure, and the other, she would probably die for a-little-less-than-sure. But he was January and she didn’t trust him at all.

  But she let go. She couldn’t remember the feeling of falling afterwards. She just fell, and hoped, and still didn’t quite trust January, even when he caught her.

  “You can open your eyes, Downcley. You’re not in some mystical afterlife.”

  “I realized,” she spat through gritted teeth, feeling annoyed at his voice but also that he was right about her closed eyes. “If I were in said mystical afterlife, it would be heaven—don’t even bother arguing with me about that January—and I would not be in your arms if I was in heaven.”

  “Good to know,” he drawled, and she was just about to say something unpleasant to him when a familiar but unexpected voice broke through their conversation.

  “Interrupting something, are we?” Z cheekily asked, and with a start, Fey realized, Jan was still holding her.

  Fey was close enough to see Jan’s cheeks, faintly blushed with embarrassment as he dropped her gently to the ground. Hoping that her tan was enough to shield her own embarrassment, she turned to face Z who wasn’t alone.

  “Is this the rest of your team, Z?” the man asked, his light eyebrows raised, his face pleasant and smiley. He was a looker for sure, and his perfect beaming smile added a friendly air around him. Fey distrusted him immediately.

  “I wouldn’t call them the rest of my team. I’m more the rest of their team,” Z corrected with a gleaming smirk, and Fey tried to seem a little less-unhinged; Z, after all, was trusting this guy. “Ion, meet Fey and January. Fey, Jan, this is Ion, our official tour guide.”

  He gave them a quick nod. “Ion Aldritt. Are you together?” he asked with knitted brows of amusement and eyes glittering knowingly. The question was directed at Fey and Jan, though as he finished the question, he looked at Z, as if he trusted him to give a more honest answer than the two people in question.

  “Yes.” Z answered before Fey or Jan could vehemently deny the possibility of them together, and it took Fey all of her willpower and then some other magically-gifted constraint for her to not take one step towards Z and throttle him. What the hell is he thinking? Fey thought murderously, we’re already treading in deep waters and now we have to keep up an act that Jan and I are together?

  But Jan was being oh-so irritating with his sudden mood swings, and this could be an opportunity for revenge. Fey felt her mouth quirk up into a smile, as she leaned into Jan’s side. “Fiancés, actually.”

  Luckily, Ion’s attention was fixed on her, meaning he didn’t see Z’s eyes bug out from his head temporarily, and Fey had to restrain a satisfied smirk at her success. She casually intertwined her fingers with Jan’s, giving his calloused palm a squeeze to remind him that scowling wasn’t typically what a happily engaged man did with his face. He caught the cue immediately, smiling slightly and giving her a look that would have been romantic if it weren’t for the strained murder in his eyes. “Love does pick oddly,” he mused, and Fey caught the dark undertone.

  “Aw, Janny,” she cooed, and she felt Jan’s fingers jab into her palm with her affectionate nickname. The damage was done though, because Ion looked pretty convinced of their supposed loving engagement.

  “Are they always this sickeningly sweet?” Ion asked Z, and the latter just smiled, and Fey knew that Z was choking back laughter.

  “Always.”

  “Well, congrats you two. I heard you all were from the Oxford stronghold?”

  “Yes,” Fey said, trying to reassure her pounding heart that she knew what she was doing. “That’s the reason why we’re here. After Oxford blew up, we needed to get to another stronghold.”

  “I had a few friends in Oxford at the time,” Ion stated, eyes hard, and Fey realized that hate in his eyes, that loss, was because of her. She lit the match, and she killed all those people. “But that’s beside the point. Follow me to the not crumbling away portion of the stronghold.”

  “Oh good. I thought this was the best of it for a second there,” Z joked, and Ion’s smile grew.

  Fey didn’t trust that smile. She didn’t like the situation they were in either, but she didn’t have much choice. Only a few minutes ago, she didn’t think it would come to this—suddenly becoming a rebel from Oxford, a place she personally burned down only 2 weeks ago, being toured around a rebel base by an attractive and untrustworthy rebel, and lastly as well as most surprisingly, engaged to January. But she couldn’t change the situation any more than she could try to trust Ion and his perfect beaming smile.

  Ion’s smile pulled up to show a few more teeth—oh god, that smile—as he said, “Trust me, we’re just getting started.”

  Twenty-Eight

  REBEL STRONGHOLD, OUTSKIRTS OF LONDON, NNR | JUNE 20, 326 T.E. | 14:24

  JANUARY admitted he was lost, around the time a group of armed men came chasing after him, firing rapidly, and he was forced to run for his life and cowardly hide. It was all going great before then.

  Z was, as usual, lagging behind, no doubt scoping out the probability of the entire building collapsing on them. Ion was playing the loud host, though Jan could only sense something much deeper and dangerous beneath his smiles and laughs. Even Fey, without his lie detection capabilities, could sense something was wrong; Jan could decipher that from her taunt shoulders and too open smile.

  He still couldn’t believe the nerve of her. He knew that breaking and entering wouldn’t work. He saw that the perfect condition of the road there and the deteriorating condition of the house didn’t add up—there was clearly something about this stronghold that they didn’t know about. They could call for reinforcements, fast. He even could accept Z introducing themselves as rebels with their actual names. But that did not mean that Fey could see how far she could stretch his sanity by announcing themselves engaged.

  Safe to say, January was not having a fun time.

  He had enough common sense to go along with it, even getting some of his revenge by planting a kiss on his fiancée’s cheek. Z proved his acting abilities by playing along like a pro, though Jan saw his bemused smirk. Well, this is going to interesting.

  “Now, I hope you don’t mind, but before I can bring you into our base, we will have to go through our mandatory check,” Ion said, and Jan felt his muscles tighten involuntarily.

  “Oh really? We didn’t have that in Oxford,” Fey informed, non-committedly.

  Ion gave her a knowing glance, mixed in with pride. “You know we have to, sunshine, with the stuff that we have.” Fey shot him back a smirk, and Ion showed no sign of hesitation of starting a conversation of how grateful the entire stronghold was, for their Immortale support. Clearly, the confidence and accuracy of Fey’s information was putting some of Ion’s mind at ease, and he was letting some of his walls come down.

  Score: 1-0, us.

  Ion flashed another smile. “Please don’t be offended. We have to,”

  “Of course. I would’ve actually been offended if you didn’t,” Z spoke up, and with a start, Jan realized that Z had caught up the rest of them and was walking beside him.

  “Z. Your stealth is improving,” Jan mentioned off-hand, and he immediately
mentally kicked himself afterwards.

  “You guys have specialties?” Ion’s voice portrayed naïve curiosity rather than hard suspicion, but still, January knew he would have to tread more carefully.

  Z jumped straight in, as if he had no such obligations, but Jan had realized that there was a lot more to Z than what met the eye. “I’m no stealth sort-of an agent. That’s Jan’s specialty. Fey’s pretty ruthless, so she excels everywhere in this business-”

  “Oh, stop. You’re making me blush,” Fey cut in, her voice dry and somewhat warning.

  “-especially in the sarcasm department. I’m a tech guy.”

  Ion’s smile grew a bit, and Jan started to get even more wary. “So, do you recognise this baby?” The rebel pushed open the set of heavy doors in front of him with ease, revealing something even more concerning than his apparent strength.

  “Heavens above,” Fey’s voice trailed off in pure amazement. It wasn’t much, but it was Immortale technology, that much was easily visible.

  Adding on to the gleaming chrome-plated machinery, the device let out a soft purr of a well-wired machine. The lights of the computer it was hooked up to, blinked with florescent colour. While Jan earlier thought that the palace computers were one hell of a sight, these were breathtaking. And the actual device (Jan wasn’t sure what to call it, at this point), was 10 feet tall, complicated, and Jan decided that the world’s most beautiful torture device would be this.

  “That’s some impressive funding you got back here. Mirozome doesn’t grow off trees. And these cables… may I?” Z asked Ion, not taking his eyes off the wires.

  “Go ahead.”

  Z ran his hands over the slick surface, mouth open in amazement. “Not only is this worth a fortune, but it’s nearly impossible to attach this all together. I’ve never seen something like this, though I’m assuming it’s built to identify people. It has an impressive memory. And with that wiring…” Z trailed off, eyes wide in amazement. After quickly snapping out of his trance, he listed off several sentences of perplexing language that Jan didn’t comprehend a word of, but Ion looked impressed, so January assumed that the information was accurate.

  “You most certainly are the tech person,” Ion commented, though his grin quickly disappeared. “You all need to toss your guns, knives, whatever else you have, in that bin.”

  Jan quickly unarmed himself, feeling quite bare without the familiar weight of his weapons. Z dropped his gun and the semi-automatic that Fey gave him, as well as his backpack in the bin beside Jan’s possessions, though Fey looked a little hesitant.

  “Fey?”

  “Janny,” January held back from glaring at the nickname, “I might need some help.”

  “Help?” Fey tossed her multiple knives and her semi-automatic in the bin with precision but didn’t retract her words.

  “Yes, help. You know how well I hide my weaponry. Could you help me find anything I might have left out? I just know I had 7 knives.”

  Jan felt heat colouring his ears before he willed the embarrassment to stop. It’s all one big performance, and this is a crucial act. Fey wouldn’t ask this just to torture you. “’Course, love.”

  He turned to face her but, realizing that she probably wanted to tell him something, turned his body to shield themselves away from the others’ prying eyes. After a bit of closer inspection, he could already tell where she hid it, but continued looking anyway.

  “You think that… safe.” He could only make out a few of her words, and he realized he would have to step closer.

  “Is it in your belt?” he asked and she rolled her eyes in a way that was so indescribably Fey-like, that he was pretty sure she wasn’t even acting.

  “You think I haven’t checked?”

  “Hey,” he pulled her in closer, pretending to look at the black belt, “Better safe than sorry. And although you may be good at hiding, you most certainly are not good at finding.”

  “Save the coupley banter for later, you’re making me sick,” Z called out, and Jan was suddenly grateful neither of the people behind him could see his face as it flushed with colour.

  “Shut up, Z,” was their practiced answer.

  “You wanted to tell me something?” Jan asked in a low voice.

  Her head was ducked low, her open hair shielding her face as she helped him look. “You think it’s safe to trust him?”

  “He’s opening. But that machine-”

  “I got it covered; I know exactly what we’re looking at. It shouldn’t expose or hurt us in any way. Just don’t be embarrassed when we learn about personal details.”

  “Wait, wha-”

  “Found it!” she announced, pulling out the hidden knife, then tossing it in the bin. She kissed Jan’s cheek, “Thank you, but it turns out, I’m not that bad at finding.”

  Jan tried to not look as frustrated and annoyed as he felt, but in the intensity that he felt it, it was a wonder Ion didn’t say anything.

  “So, who’s going in first?” the rebel asked.

  “Can I? I want to see how this baby works,” said Z.

  “Of course.” And with that, Z stepped in. There was no electric shock, no shriek of agony, no metal trap.

  Jan was just about to volunteer himself, not concerned about any form of punishment, when an automated voice came up from overhead.

  “Name: Unknown. Born: February 18, 307 T.E. Not Known City, Region of Di’an, N.N.R. Height: 174.02 cm. ID #: 092452276.” Jan felt his muscles go rigid, but a sharp jab in the palm, courtesy of Fey, reminded him to calm down, because Fey ‘got it covered’. Z himself paused, his face caught between panic and fascination.

  There was a buzz in the silent air, save Jan’s slightly laboured breathing. It wasn’t being caught that scared him, it was the voice that would-

  “Clear.”

  Ion seemed satisfied and gave a sly smile to Fey. “Ladies first?”

  “Seeing as Z went, I think that’s covered.” Nonetheless, Fey stepped in, her back facing Jan, her front facing a mock-hurt Z.

  “Name: Fey Downcley. Born: August 9, 309 T.E. Razed City of Adelaide, Manaro, N.N.R. Height: 167.89 cm. ID #:097651937.” In 3 seconds, it pronounced Fey clear as well.

  “January.” Jan stepped forward at Ion’s voice, and chose to face Ion rather than his fellow agents, though he caught a flash of an almost encouraging thumbs-up from Z.

  “Name: January Tormont. Born: January 19, 308 T.E. Port York, United American Republic, N.N.R. Height: 182.87 cm. ID #:093568082.” January felt his heart-rate increase as the familiar hum of the machinery surrounded him. Was it just him, or was this taking much longer than for the others? “Clear.”

  Ion’s face broke into a grin. “Well congratulations, my fellow rebels. You passed. And prepare to become amazed.”

  “It’s safe to grab our stuff?” Z asked, causing Jan to almost smile. He knew how eager Z was to get his hands back on his precious, meticulously crafted equipment.

  “Go ahead.”

  …

  January was shoving the last gun into his belt when Ion started to get curious. “Z, don’t mind me asking, but all ELEE said was that your name was unknown. So…”

  “First of all, who the hell is Ellie?”

  Z cut Fey off without hesitation. “The machine, obviously.”

  “Of course,” she muttered sarcastically, but her face shifted into a more considerate look. “You never said anything about your name though Z, in all the time that we worked together.”

  “Truth is I don’t know my actual name. Z is all I remember. In fact, I was hoping ELEE would know.”

  Ion just nodded understandingly. “Follow me,” he instructed, opening another set of heavy bound doors to reveal a small room, cold and unlit. Taking a look at all of their puzzled faces, Ion laughed, “This isn’t it, believe me. There’s a trap door there, which leads you to the base.”

  “Underground?” Z asked, brows almost disappearing beneath the curly locks of his messy hair splayed across his fo
rehead. Ion just smirked, pulling the trap door open: “Who wants to go first?”

  They all filed down, January feeling quite boxed in by the small opening, not expecting the underground base to be spacious either, but it surprisingly was. Busy scoping the place out, his attention was called back to their host when Fey suddenly asked, “What’s that?”

  She was pointing at his bared forearm, where Ion’s long-sleeved shirt pulled up when he reached up to close the trap door and lock it. He looked surprised, but he didn’t react negatively to the question, instead quickly climbing down a few rungs and then jumping off altogether. “This, you mean?” he asked, pulling the sleeve all the way to reveal an ugly meshwork of scars that Jan knew to be from burns from personal experience. Z quickly averted his eyes, and Jan could hardly blame him.

  “That’s what our precious King Jaxcon brought me. Not all of us can have life handed to us on a silver platter,” he stated blithely, starting to go down the hallway, the three following him. After passing a few doors in silence (with January thinking about everything wrong with their world) Ion finally turned his head slightly, as to face Fey, “So, Razed City of Adelaide?”

  “My family has been through tough times,” Fey kept her answer short and simple, but that sufficed. Jan spoke up without invitation.

  “And I’m here for my fiancée.”

  Ion looked at him, eyebrow raised in bemusement. “Do you really think that I’ll believe that, January Tormont?”

  “Kurata-Tormont,” Jan immediately corrected, though the name felt almost foreign on his tongue. He had gone by January for so long, he had cut all ties with his past by letting go of his last name. Just hearing the name spoken in the air again, instead of just echoing faintly in the treacherous depths of his mind, almost brought tears to his eyes, his gut twisting in unexplainable knots. “And I hope you believe me, because it’s the only explanation you’re getting.” Jan caught a sharp look from Fey, though that only encouraged him to tighten his jaw and not add anything more.

  “You don’t like to talk about your past,” Ion mused. A sort of sly, almost wicked grin spread across his face, “Something happened to your family.”