CHAPTER EIGHT

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Alana

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15th of Decepter, 935 PC

Alana Hurd was everything her mother told her not to be. A liar. A cheat. A sneak. Manipulative. Impulsive. Angry. And most importantly. A Lotus. A terribly lazy, pathetically inept, Lotus. In an environment where all her innate characteristics had every right to propel her to glory, Alana managed to take residence at the bottom of the filthy barrel that was the Lotus Army. The Lotus Army. The idea made her laugh at night, when she’d lay on her uncomfortable mattress and stair at the overhead above her small cubicle in the sleeping quarters. Her and her comrades were less an army and more of a hodgepodge of misfits, tired veterans from other wars, a handful of enthusiastic soldiers, a score more of psychopaths, a whole lot of desperate parents hoping to get their families out of poverty, and whatever else stumbled up to a Lotus recruiter somewhere in the empire. Sure, when all those elements were combined they had strength in numbers, but they lacked in all other areas of war; discipline, strong leadership, strategy, skill, most of the basics. Instead, those who were hungry and ruthless enough to beg, cheat, and kill their way to the top of the ranks became officers and did damn near anything they wanted, typically not what was necessary to end the war in any reasonable length of time.

So, rather than becoming a skilled fighter with sword and shield or a masterful marksman with her lotus magic, Alana became a hustler. A woman that had learned to survive around all types of people, someone who could get whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it, and above all else, a survivor. A very necessary skill when you’re part of an army hunting down men and women that could rip you apart with their magic, boil your insides, run through an arrow and not miss a beat, cripple you with their bare hands. Yes, Alana had learned how to survive. And it was simple. Don’t ask questions, don’t volunteer for anything, and look as pathetic as possible in front of those with influence. It was that or try hard to hone her skills. And that was about as appealing to her as a kick in the teeth.

There was one place she could be herself though; in Ulla Pallani’s cabin on her outfit’s cloudcruiser. Behind the closed doors of Ulla’s cabin, Alana could say what she thought and do what she wished. Tonight, what she had wished to do was play cards with the handful of friends she had made since joining the outfit just months before.

“You’re up, Hurd,” said the young man beside her. Kit Spader blew his long blonde bangs out of his eyes and with a puff of breath, revealing his soft blue eyes. He smirked at her when she realized she had been daydreaming. He was wearing the same thing she was, the Lotus Army’s infamous leaf green gambeson, reinforced by an alchemical that the Lotus Queen’s advisor had created in his secret laboratory. The alchemical made the armor nearly twice as effective as a normal gambeson. It also made a Lotus’ head the primary target for enemies. A reality she thought about regularly. The trim of the gambeson’s collar, the ends of its sleeves, and the buttons on the front were all purple. The pants featured the same color scheme with the accents being a single thin stripe down the outside of each leg and around the ankles. Those Lotus who had killed or captured a Purist also wore a gold pin in the shape of a lotus flower, directly over their heart. It was a symbol of courage and skill, one that immediately elevated an ordinary soldier’s pay and ensured their doses of lotus magic. Neither Kit nor Alana had their pins. In fact, all either of them had done since joining the Lotus Army was make blunders and demonstrate a less than stellar work ethic.

“What’s the bet?” she asked.

“Two Leos,” said an ugly looking man across the table from her. Io Pallani. A Yilan man who had failed to become one of their infamous assassins. Instead, he found himself sitting at a small table in his sister’s cabin slowly rotting away as the lotus magic inside him consumed his blood. A fate far different than he had hoped for as a child, Alana was sure.

Alana looked at her cards closely then told the others she was out of the hand and tossed the cards atop the pile of gold coins in the middle of the table. She had barely played more than a dozen hands all night and yet her own pile had doubled. And not from some incredible set of skills as a card player. More than a few quick snipes of a coin from someone else’s pile coupled with a few lucky hands had added up.

There was a hand on her forearm. Ulla. Her grip was strong but not on purpose. That was just the nature of Yilan warriors. Thick skinned and oblivious to their own strength. She was pale-skinned and fierce looking like all Yilan women. And unlike her brother, she had passed every test the Yilan Army could throw at her, with flying colors and high praise. Then, for whatever reason, she chose to abandon her life as a heralded warrior to be with her brother. As a doomed mage. Alana still wasn’t sure the woman was happy to have taken the synthetic magic, but whether she was or not, she had moved up the ranks of the ragtag army with ease. And with Ezil’s recent death she was now second in command behind Laspin Rouille.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Alana?” She was referring to an incident earlier in the evening. When Laspin had shoved Alana after she had lost their prey’s trail.

“Nothing to bat an eye about,” said Alana. At least not yet. She knew whether Ulla cared about her well-being or not, the woman was fiercely loyal to Laspin despite his many shortcomings. The same could not be said about Alana. She would have just as happily let the barbaric Urman Gant kill Laspin than help the arrogant captain capture him if wouldn’t have put herself in danger. I will turn you against him soon enough.

Io said, “Laspin is a piece of shit.”

“Io!” snapped his sister.

“What? He is,” said the man. “He has no business laying his hands on any of us. I don’t care if he’s an officer or not. So what if the commoner fooled Alana. It’s not like anyone else had his trail at that point.”

Kit chimed in. “Aye. Gant’s a slippery one. Wouldn’t be surprised if we never catch him.”

“Don’t say that,” said Ulla. “We will find him.” She looked at her brother, who despite having not been good enough to be a Yilan assassin, was quite capable. Evident by the golden pin over his heart.

Io rolled his eyes. “Can we please play some Ruckus?” he begged and took a drink from the bottle of rum they were passing around the table.

Ulla made an annoyed noise that came from deep in her throat then tossed two coins into the middle of the table. The game continued.

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Alana closed the door to Ulla’s cabin and caught up with Kit as he crossed the main deck of the cloudcruiser. The sound of the ship’s massive wings flapping was deafening. Like always. She had covered her ears like a child at times when she first joined the outfit, but she had since learned to deal with it, almost drowning it out. Almost.

She waited for the brief moment between thunderous booms of the wings, then asked, “When are the new ships going to launch?” A well timed comment or question didn’t have to be yelled. Kit simply shrugged rather than yell over the noise that soon followed. According to Ulla the master builders in DuVale were working on silent cloudcruisers that would dramatically increase the effectiveness of hunting down Purists from the sky. She couldn’t wait for the day. The silence.

She had never been on a ship that sailed in water, but to her best estimation, the cloudcruiser looked about as close to the same as possible; tall masts, canvas sails, crates and barrels on deck and below, ropes everywhere, a large wooden wheel, ladders, all the stuff sailors needed. The only real differences were the massive wings, the retrieval plank and the impressive wooden crane that raised and lowered it, and the sizable panel of levers, pulleys, buttons, and cranks that sat beside the helm and helped keep the ship in the air.

“This damn weather is going to kill us up here,” she said. It was cold enough on the ground, below freezing at night now that winter was upon them, but a few hundred feet in the air the temperature was miserable. Unbearable if not for their uniforms.

Kit rubbed his hands as they reached the stairs to go below deck. His fingernails were glowing purple, not from the cold. She looked at her own glowing nails. A constant reminder of a stupid mistake. She had once told Kit she tried lotus to prove a point to her mother. It had been a lie. One that she regretted telling because of how childish it sounded. But at the time it felt like a more attractive choice than telling the truth. The truth is so stupid I’m ashamed of it. She ridiculed herself, her childish reasoning. Maybe if I join the Lotus Army they’ll lead me to the father I’ve never met. They’re hunting Purists. He’s a Purist. And not just any Purist. The one every Lotus is after. It pained her to think of her father’s name. Alaric Sampson. A former member of The High Chamber. The author of more than half a dozen influential books. A paranoid basket case that was asked to leave his position with The Crimson Nine for undisclosed reasons. How did I ever think I’d be one of the few to stumble upon the leader of the Purists resistance? Foolish idiot. No, telling her comrades that she was the bastard daughter of their greatest enemy wasn’t an attractive idea.

The sound of the wings followed them down the stairs, as they crossed the hull to the sleeping quarters it became more of a dull, rhythmic thumping that had actually helped Alana fall asleep on more than one occasion. She followed Kit into his small cubicle. Two walls, shorter than Alana, were spaced ten feet apart. A terribly uncomfortable bed protruded from the wall that could be folded up to create more space for things like calisthenics or whatever else a soldier could come up with. Alana’s bed had never once been folded up. She sat down on the box that was technically a chair while Kit plopped down on his bed and reached under his thin pillow. He opened his hand to reveal two purple crystals covered in a white residue. She closed her eyes peacefully and smiled as the scent of the magical capsules filled her nose. Incredible.

While she hated the fact that she had ever tried lotus, there was no sense in denying she was addicted to the substance now. She reached for one of the capsules when Kit pushed his hand toward her. All Lotus were addicted to the substance, some more than others, but they all were addicted. They had to be. When a person consumed the substance for the first time it mixed with their blood, becoming a permanent part of it. The first use thinned their blood immensely, each subsequent use maintained how thin the blood had become. The powder also created an energy within the body that rested in their fingertips. Somehow, unbeknownst to most Lotus, it was possible to pull the energy from their bodies, through the skin at the ends of their fingers. Most who experienced it claimed that there was nothing else in the world that could match the sensation. She agreed.

“Three… Two… One…” he said. They both tossed their fix into their mouths and crunched down on the crystalline capsules.

Alana chewed with her eyes closed to get the full sense of euphoria as the powder inside the crystal mixed with her blood, sending a powerful sense of warmth and strength throughout her body. Her head fell backward and rested against the wall of the cubicle. There’s simply nothing else like it.

“Want another? I have more,” said Kit.

She opened her eyes. “How’d you get so many?” she asked.

He grinned but didn’t reveal his secret.

“Come on ya stooge. Spill it.”

“Keila has a thing for me,” said Kit.

The words stung. Keila Canate was the outfit’s lotus distributor. Not a powerful position in terms of authority, but a very important role on any cloudcruiser. One that came with the ability to manipulate others and crush them beneath the weight of deprivation if necessary. Keila showing interest in Kit upset her because it seemed like a dangerous game. And because Kit was hers. Not romantically. Not officially. But he was the closest thing to a genuine friend she had found since joining the Lotus Army and anything that pulled him away from her meant going back to lonely nights staring at the overhead with tears running down her cheeks.

Kit continued. “I mean she doesn’t have a real thing for me. She just likes me. I mean. You know what I mean. She thinks I’m nice. Tells me that all the time.” He paused. Took a deep breath. “There’s nothing there. Keila’s a blonde. Not my type.”

“And what is your type?” asked Alana.

Kit’s typically pale cheeks were turning pink and red. “Do you want another capsule or not?”

Keila is not one to simply find you nice, you oblivious dunce. But I’d rather not plant the seed in his mind either. “Do I want another?” she asked sarcastically. “Hand it here.”