Whispers of Nowhere

Chapter Seventeen: Part Two

Forneus frowned, his gaze falling on the two walls bordering the front gate. Grotesque statues sat atop them, both depicting men muscular of build and barely clothed. They hovered over their fallen enemies, ready to deliver the killing blow; the one on the left with a sword in hand, the other with a club, their expressions contorted in anger. Two men lay prostrate beneath them, one with his arm twisted behind his back, the other gripped by his curled hair, both of their faces masks of fear and anguish.

He was no stranger to mankind's history of brutality toward one another, nor was he ignorant of the damage they'd wrought upon the very world they called home, taking it for granted that it would be there long after they, their children, and their children's children were gone. It was folly on their part, he knew, one they would pay most grievously for if they didn't change their ways.

Even so, Forneus knew they had great potential as well. He had seen them face impossible odds, suffer unimaginable atrocities—and still come out of it, battered and scarred, yet still alive; some of them even smiling through the pain. When he thought of the things that made them strong, that endeared them to him, seeing something as twisted as the statues erected at the castle's gate almost always came as a bit of a shock. No matter the knowledge and wisdom he'd gleaned over the years, he could never allow this side of humanity to taint his view of them as a whole.

Finally tearing his gaze away from the disturbing sight, Forneus stepped lightly, following the length of wrought-iron fence from one side of the gate to the other, spanning the entire perimeter of Prague Castle and the adjoining property. He made his way around one of two guard houses on the right, surprised to see that neither were occupied. Where were the guards? Weren't they supposed to be on the premises night and day?

Perhaps Asclepius's unit evacuated them? Forneus cast a surreptitious glance first left, then right. After what had happened back in Greece, he suspected this was the case. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the sun starting its ascent into the sky, barely cresting the Vltava River. The ordinarily blue-grey waters turned a fiery gold where the sun's light touched them, the lanterns along the Charles Bridge beginning to wink out as the sun climbed higher into the sky.

Both satisfied and disconcerted when he realized not a single human was present, Forneus took advantage of the castle's state of desertion, and rounding the corner, stepped through the gate. He remained there for some time, back against the wall, pressing his fingertips against the rough stonework. His gaze darted over every square inch of the interior wall, taking in everything from the varying shades of the cobblestones, to the rough masonry that made up the secondary entrance. Hundreds of small, square windows faced out from the castle's front partition, each one surrounded by rough-hewn bricks and smooth, dark ledges between them.

Overwhelming urgency stole over him, reminding him that it wouldn't be long before Phenex and Gwen caught up and that he had to make sure the way was clear before they did. Inhaling deeply, Forneus took several quick jumps, teleporting and rematerializing over the high-sloping roof of the main partition and into the courtyard opposite. As he landed, a faint tingling started between his shoulder blades. Someone else was here.

No, not just one other. Many others, Forneus realized, catching movement from the corner of his eye.

Shadows, scores of them peeling away from the buildings on either side in dark, filmy layers. A dozen or more came from the corners of the building nearest to him; a simple three-storey structure painted in white with a pink diamond pattern around its windows, sitting just at the edge of the St. Vitus Cathedral.

So much for their forces only being active at night, he thought, sighing wearily. Ah well, I suppose that's what back-up plans are for.