Page 23 of Love, Nemesis
A circular object glistened, odd and pronounced from the rest. Lethe lifted it up, finding it a perfect fit in his hand. A glass orb encased by a brass ring with levers. He’d seen one before and recognized the State issued Atlas. He glanced back at what remained of the stomach, noticing a skeletal hand, a portion of the bone puncturing the lining. A ring was still fixed on the finger, an insignia of an arrow cut down the middle, pressed into the metal.
“Is this your weapon?” Lethe asked, standing up. He turned, acknowledging the boy at last.
Cal wore a beige button down, ripped and bloodstained, with black riding pants. A large leather belt was fixed across his thin hips with an assortment of pockets and gadgets. The symbol of a clock stitched into the pocket of the shirt was a clear indicator of his involvement in the Numbers.
He offered out his hands, green eyes beckoning, sandy-brown hair trapped to his face with dirt and sweat. Cal looked to be around fifteen. It seemed the State was recruiting them earlythese days, likely trying to compensate for thinning forces along the border.
Lethe tossed the Atlas to him, and Cal squeezed his fingers together, activating a copper ring on his right middle finger. The object whirred and snapped into the hand with the ring. Some bile splattered onto Cal’s face. He backed up, spitting and coughing.
Lethe extended his clean hand, and the boy shook it. “Welcome to En Sanctus. You’re in Fort Row. My name is Lethe.”
“Thank you so much,” Cal said, wiping his face with his sleeve.
“Dawson will give you a ride back to camp,” Lethe said, gesturing to Dawson’s horse.
Cal struggled on, grabbing on to the edges of the saddle, slipping with a bloodied cut on his hand, and then grabbing again.
“Dawson, make sure he gets a Statesman’s welcome. I’ll be back shortly.”
Dawson smirked knowingly. “Yes, sir.”
“Also, tell Manaj I need him out here and to bring torches.”
“Yes, sir.” Dawson nodded promptly before riding off at a brisk pace.
“You want Manaj?” Perry asked. “Is something wrong?”
“I will need a second witness,” Lethe said, removing the handkerchief folded around his neck and wiping his hands on it. He folded it around the bony hand, pushing the dog’s carcassback with his foot to search for any other fragments. “Perry, do you have any oil on you?”
“Yeah.”
“Set this thing on fire, would you?” Lethe rolled the hand up and stuck it into his saddlebag. “Wait here when it’s done burning. I’ll whistle when I need you.”
Perry confirmed the directions before Lethe jumped back onto the horse, riding out into the woods for any signs of overturned earth. He found a clearing of scattered dirt, centered on a series of broken boards in the ground.
He whistled for Perry, who came carrying a portion of the dog’s leg like a torch, still burning with thick, black smoke. He rested the leg down in the open, giving the smoke room to rise through the trees.
Lethe measured his steps over the boards; they creaked and gave beneath him. He sat at the edge, allowing his feet to dangle into the dark.
“Follow carefully,” Lethe said, jumping down into a hidden room, dimly lit by the hole in the ceiling. He scanned the cabinets and bookcases, spotting a series of broken skeletons lying around a large pot and table. The black breed’s footprints muddled the dust on the floor.
“What is this place?” Perry said as he hopped down behind him.
“A place The Great Light didn’t reach. It was buried. Don’t touch anything,” Lethe said, reaching for the books. He surveyed themfor a while, examining the titles, noting the cryptic writing on each one.
“Hey, there are healing tonics here,” Perry remarked.
“I said”—Lethe looked back at him to find him with his arm extended—“don’ttouch anything.”
Perry pursed his lips and nodded, folding his arms over his chest as he continued looking around. “What is all this stuff?”
“Leftovers from the reign of the Strike,” Lethe replied, examining a picture carved on the wall of an arrow split down the middle. He heard commotion above. He whistled again loudly, drawing Dawson and Manaj toward the hideout.
“Manaj! Get in here!” Lethe said. “Perry, go get the torches from Dawson.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, hopping up and grabbing the edge of the boards before climbing out. They threw a rope ladder down, which Manaj promptly used.
Lethe continued to scan the area as he heard a slipping sound. The third time he heard it, it finally pulled his focus from the room. He glanced back to see Manaj’s small foot slipping against the next rung of the ladder.
