Volume V: The Tragic End of Treason

Chapter 6: Setting the Stage

            Now, where were we? Nowhere, if I remember correctly, which I seldom ever do. I’m awake, it seems that everyone else is sleeping. So I walk around, catch a smoke, you know, kill time. Toryn was wandering around as well, she took a smoke from the pack on the table that we’d all been sharing and joined me at the window.

            “Are you sure you can do it this time, you know, keep it under control?”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “No, of course not.” She turned her shoulder to me so I couldn’t see her face, but I saw her reach up to catch the falling tear. What had I done? I tried to remember and came up blank, I didn’t know how to react. She was annoyed with me, I understood that much. She turned abruptly to leave and I grabbed her arm and held her. She curled up with me and we smoked.

            “I only wish we could stay like this,” she whispered.

            “Why can’t we?”

            She went to pull away but I held her anyway; she stayed. “I just don’t know.”

            And there we stayed. I felt better with her around, I don’t know why. I wouldn’t call it love, but I was at ease for that moment. For that fraction of eternity, I was at peace with the world. For a moment because that’s all you get. And all love is really is the loss of valuable emotions. It made some semblance of sense to me, you don’t have to understand. Or maybe you do.

            Some things just don’t need words. I’ll have to try using a picture instead.

            So there we were. There we were when the world awoke and the crew came wandering out of their corners. And there we stayed until the smoke was nothing more than a false illusion. If I could hold on to one moment, freeze it, keep it, that would’ve been it. Everyone came out of hiding and woke up slowly. Today Dyre was on the line. Today was the day of reckoning.

            By noon, the gears were turning and insanity became reality. Dyre could go in to negotiate entry. Ashe would be standing by, armed, in case they got too suspicious. Galat and Toryn would also be standing by, placed on nonchalant street corners. Hadrien and I were going to stay here, with Dev, in case of emergency. Anything goes wrong, break and run. It’s never too late to run and with lives on the line, pride is not a luxury that we could easily afford.

            Dyre was going to be meeting with Lyre, Marcellus’ right hand man. They’d negotiate terms and we’d have someone on the inside. I had to wait at home for the report, but I was told that everything went smoothly. We’d have little to no contact once he got inside; he’d try to get word to us when he could. He’d be under constant surveillance for the first few days/weeks. We’d deal with the hand we were dealt. Things were okay for a little while too, then the downfall began. Dyre was put to the test.

            Initiation – kill someone. There was a complication in the plan; I left Dev at home to go help. Cellus’ boys got a hold of Ashe. Dyre’s test would be to kill his brother, he was supposed to shoot him – point blank. If he refused, they both die. The crew needed a plan, there was a time limit. Midnight – everything goes to Hell. We needed help.

            This’ the Endless’ war, they could help us in this. But there was no way to find them; you don’t find them, they find you. And they only find you when there’s a job to be done. Having no other bright ideas, we went to the Dragon and beseeched the last surviving Drakes.

            Payge and Set Drake were living legends. Everyone knew the story, everyone remembered the great tragedy. The streets were cold and calm out of respect to them. Those kids were raised by mean streets, they knew the value of life, the price of survival. We went in, “we” being Galat, Toryn and myself. And we began to plead our case to deaf ears and lost eyes.