Sirens blare in the distance disturbing the quiet night. They grow louder and louder as you walk. A black cloud blots out the moon and stars, as though someone pulled a curtain over the universe. You see a familiar street and stop dead, then take off toward the smoke before either Kael or Opal can stop you.
A line of caution tape, the greek variety, blocks your path, but you duck under it and keep running toward the sirens and the smoke. You turn the corner and stumble to a halt.
The Madrasah Gate has been burned down and the library along with it.
Fires flicker in small clusters behind what remains of the ancient doors, belching a deep ebony cloud into the sky. A faint sheen of blue twists through it every once in a while though the police don’t seem to notice.They have cordoned off everything and are standing around, scratching their heads in disbelief at the amount of smoke two doors made.
You approach from the back, relying on the smoke to hide your movements. Up close, the scene is even more heartbreaking. Fires burn in random heaps. Your gut wrenches as you recognize them to be stacks of books, reduced to their component parts. An entire age of knowledge lost.
This is your Library of Alexandria, an event so evil and twisted in your mind that you cannot even process it and are reduced to taking in the surface details, your mind numb.
The police are facing the other way so you hop down into the courtyard and kick over some of the piles of ashes. You save several ragged covers, tucking them into your jacket and next to your heart like a mother to her dying child. It is useless, but you have to do something, anything, even if it means lying to yourself that it will somehow fix this tragedy of history.
Metal slag is all that remains of the lanterns, their eternal candles reduced to dripping wax. You kick one over and uncover an almost completely intact page, but a spark spreads from the corner and the ancient paper disappears in a flash. Your heart pangs as though someone drove a knife into it and you fall to your knees.
Deep within you, a strand of anger ignites, one you didn’t know you even had. You are a mild mannered man, but right now you are filled with the urge to destroy this city, to raze it to the ground. The people here don’t deserve what they have, willing to sacrifice it for a shiny penny or a pat on the head. You want to take it from them until they treasure it as you do. Even if all they have left of it are their memories.
You stand utterly still for a moment chest rising and falling too quickly for the minor amount of exertion.
Then you turn and walk back into the city, as if on nothing more than a midnight stroll.
Someone sprints after you, but you don’t turn, even as they stop next to you and grab your arm. It’s Opal, you can tell by the ragged fingernails and bloody sleeve. You ignore her and keep walking and to your surprise she doesn’t offer any excuses. She just silently trudges next to you.
A figure appears in the distance in front of you and it slowly resolves into Kael, back on a wall, arms crossed in annoyance.
“It wasn’t me,” she says.
You walk right by her.
“I promise,” she continues, hopping off the wall to match your pace, arms out in entreaty.
You don’t even look at her.
“I went to find my ring.” She takes a few more quick steps. “We don’t have time for this. It was just a Library.”
You turn and throw her against the wall, cracking the plaster. Rage swells in you in a fast, hot current and you swing a fist into her gut. She tries to move, but you are too fast and the air comes out of her in a wheeze. She crumples to her knees before you.
You are about to follow with a kick to her head when Opal shouts your name. You stop with protracted effort, chest heaving.
“Enchanter,” Kael breathes.
You look at your clenched fists and are shocked to find them outlined in an icy blue fire, the same blue from the Gate. The same rage flows in you, directed at the woman kneeling in front of you. She gasps for air and struggles to stand.
The fire in your hands begs you to end her, to shake the ground with the force of your blow, but an image flashes in your mind. Apollo, with the same type of fire lining his hands.
You blow out your breath and drop your shoulders, releasing the power just as easily as you had grabbed it from the air. Most of the anger dissipates immediately. Most.
A gust of wind sweeps down the alley on both sides, blowing back Opal’s hair and sending bits of trash tumbling along the street.
“Talk,” you say harshly.
Kael takes several gulping breaths. “It was the Eater.”
“Why?”
“The only one that makes sense,” She coughs a wracking cough, but you just cross your arms and wait. “It wasn’t me and it wasn’t Apollo, plus the site was completely drained of power”
You look at Opal who nods grimly.
“How did he find it?”
Kael shrugs and finally regains her feet. “It wasn’t exactly hidden.”
The last of the anger drains out of you and you gesture for Kael to lead. Opal lends her an arm to lean on but she ignores it and limps for the mouth of the alley.
You remember that she was missing her ring in the Library and hasn’t had it since. And even if she did burn it down and sacrificed a millenia’s worth of ancient books for a transient battle, it doesn’t mean she should die.
Barely.
You shake your head and catch up to her.
“You’re an Enchanter,” Kael says, almost to herself, “That complicates things.”
You look at Opal remembering her first comment about Enchanters. She walks with her chin down, not watching the streets with her usual vigilance. You want to reassure her, but you can’t even reassure yourself.
It is true then, the book didn’t lie to you. You are an Enchanter, the warrior class of the Empowered if the book was to be believed. A stone cold killer.
No, you think, rejecting the idea. You are a killer, that much you admit, but the pain you feel at taking a life, even a murderers life, is too agonizing to be called a warrior. Better to be called a coward and be a good man than a warrior and kill.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Though you did just try to kill Kael.
Maybe you are a murderer. Maybe you are worse than an Eater like Opal said.
The thought of Caville pushes your concerns to the backburner. This wasn’t the first time he had shown up to a place mere hours after you had been there. First the Airport and now the Gates and, you think after a moment, the first hideout Kael took you to. Only someone who had followed you from Mexico would know to leave the feather for you like that. Apollo would have taken the Artifacts in the safe.
Caville wouldn’t know though. He wouldn’t know about the ongoing struggle to control the power in the city and the corruption of the dozens of Oracles there. He might just be impatient enough to scare Kael’s people to ground and leave the place empty.
A thought pops in your head and you force Kael to make a detour. She doesn’t ask any questions as you turn the corner and lead the way down several blocks, relying on the map of the city you have been steadily piecing together in your head.
Finally, the hotel from the first night appears ahead of you. You go to walk in the front door, butKael puts a hand on your chest and pulls you back. You shrug her hand off, but grudgingly step to the side to allow Opal to approach the building and disappear into the doorway.
After several minutes, she returns, answering your questioning eyes with a slight shake of her head. Kael retakes the lead, wending her way back to her original path.
It doesn’t make sense. Caville has been to every place you have, but he left this hotel out? It is just an assumption that he was responsible for compromising the hideout, but it seems like a good assumption. Why is this hotel the safest of all the places you have been? It isn’t particularly well guarded as Opal and Kael proved when they broke in. There are windows all over the place and the clerk would likely give up the names of any client for the right amount of money.
Something isn’t adding up.
Before you can consider the matter further, Kael stops.
The Acropolis rises before you, perhaps the most famous place in all of Athens, though it is completely deserted at this hour. The Parthenon stands regal in its place of veneration, perhaps the best preserved ancient building in the entire city. Stone walls rise up at shear angles, an ancient show of strength for potential invaders. It is a city on a mountain, an impenetrable stone fortress, yet it is the birthplace of democracy and the home of legions of philosophers.
That is what always drew you here. As strong as the Athenians were, their ideas were stronger. Their buildings resisted the test of time, but their ideas flourished with each passing year. The thinkers were venerated alongside the warriors.
Kael stares upward at it, eyes scanning the surface then dropping to the journal in her hands. She finds her heading and sets off, leaving the city proper and following a set of ancient steps as they climb up the mountain.
The path rises steadily until you are higher than the tops of the highest terracotta roofs far behind you. The stone is bone dry, which is fortunate because there is no railing and a fall would leave you paralyzed.
You reach the top of a rocky hill too low to be called a mountain. The Acropolis is closer here and you can see the scaffolding and cranes that ring several structures like a steel exoskeleton supporting ancient bones.
Kael ignores the Propylaea, the marble gateway to the Acropolis, and instead leaves the path, ducking under the rails on either side and into the green, wooded area. You cast a nervous eye up the road. This is certainly outside the bounds of where tourists are supposed to go, but there is no shout of reproof as she disappears into the trees so you follow.
The trees block most of the light from the full moon, making the path of roots and stones precarious, though Kael and Opal are somehow unaffected.
You pause several times in front of blank stone walls for Kael to consult the journal by moonlight before continuing. Kael gets more and more frustrated at each of these stops until she put the book away and stares at the wall menacingly
"What are you looking for?" you ask quietly, glad to not be on the other end of that stare.
"The Cave Sanctuary of Apollo Hypoakraio."
"That’s on the northwestern side."
Kael angrily tosses you the journal and starts off. It's too dark to read, not that Kael's pace would let you, but you tuck it away safely anyway. A firsthand account of the magic side of this city along with research notes is invaluable, no matter how distasteful the source.
Finally, you reach the base of several natural stone caves belonging to cult worshippers of Pan, Zeus, and Apollo. Each cave forms a dark hole in the moonlight bathed rock. They show no sign of life.
You look toward the cave of Apollo Hypoakraios and for the first time understand how even his name was enough to anger Kael and Opal. Apollo the sun god, but more importantly, master of the Oracles.
Kael wastes no time and climbs up the hill, leaving you and Opal to scramble after her. She reaches the top where hill transitions to cliff and continues without so much as a pause, gripping the small handholds in the rock and leveraging herself upward.
It's fortunate that the past several days have included a lot of cardio otherwise this would be impossible for a person of your tender. As it is, the ascent challenges as you have rarely been challenged before. Opal has to reach back and help you several times until she finally hauls you bodily over the top. You roll over, gasping as quietly as you can.
The cave is still a dark hole, even up close. Kael walks inside, clicking on a flashlight. You force yourself to your knees. The weakness of flesh won't keep you from a discovery like this.
Inside, it's pitch black until you turn a corner and Kael finds a switch on the wall. Faint amber light washes over the space, kept from leaving the entrance by the corner of stone. You gasp audibly and stare around you in wonder.
What should have been crumbling old stone has been transformed into gleaming marble. Lights illuminate an amphitheater ringing an altar dressed with a red silk cloth.
You have read countless academic papers on the Cave Sanctuaries so you know that there is no record of this ever being restored to such a state. It seems that Apollo has done some remodeling.
Opal and Kael search the area carefully, fists up and ready. You should be careful too, but you can’t help but admire the fit of the marble blocks. It's said that the Parthenon looked like this for hundreds of years until time finally stole the shining marble and replaced it with a dusty brown. Contrasting it with the perfection of the architecture around you, you have trouble believing it.
Opal calls from behind the altar and both you and Kael rush over to find her standing on the threshold of a marble archway, hidden behind a massive monolith.
You enter and the transition is shocking. Where the amphitheater was full of simple, minimalist beauty, this room is a bastion of chaos. Clothes and furniture are strewn around the space as though someone opened every drawer and summoned a tornado. Whether someone moved out in a hurry or it was ransacked, you can't tell.
Kael kicks around some of the junk and swears in German.
You move around a few things half-heartedly, but there is nothing there. Anything interesting is long gone, only old clothes and broken furniture remain.
“Let’s go,” Kael says darkly and leads the way out of the room.
You traipse back toward the entrance of the cave, still itching to explore the amphitheater. Not that you object to reading more of the Enchanting book though, especially now that the techniques might actually be useful to you. Maybe you can open the case and…
You freeze in place, thoughts whirring, putting together the last piece of the puzzle that has been troubling you for the last day. Ah, that’s what that is.
Opal and Kael are looking at you curiously. “We can’t go back to the basement,” you say in answer to their unspoken question.
“Why?” Kael asks, willing to humor you for once. Maybe all it took to earn her respect was a good fight.
You outline your theory quickly, citing several examples. Kael doesn’t seem impressed, but neither is she willing to risk her life to prove it wrong.
“That would mean all three of my safe houses are compromised,” she muses, looking more disappointed than angry. “So we need a place to rest for the night.”
“How about here?” Opal says, surprising the both of you.
“Here?” You ask, giving the room around you a suspicious glance.
“It has no power so no Oracles will come, Apollo clearly abandoned it, and the Eater doesn’t know it because he burned down the library that tells you where it is,” she says, listing the reasons off on her fingers.
You can’t find a single reason to disagree besides the fact that you don’t like it. You share a look with Kael who shrugs then nods.
No one is willing to stay in the same room where Apollo used to sleep, so you set up camp halfway down the stairs of the amphitheater. You do scavenge some bedding, however, just enough to protect you from the chill of the marble and the night air. It is late, past late. Too late to complain or even think twice about the situation you’ve been forced into.
And just like that, all of you fall asleep in the abandoned den of a lion.