The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent) Page 11

  Xander looked at me pointedly, but before he could answer—not that he looked like he would answer—I threw my hands up. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  Tools lay carefully in their predetermined places, contrasting against the coal dust that littered the area black around the furnace. It would take me days to get a good look at all that went on in here. The hanger was vast.

  “Where will you be building your suit?” I asked, suddenly curious.

  Xander looked at me and inclined me to follow him with his finger. I narrowed my eyes at the gesture, but complied, stepping in behind him. He led me to a very bright corner of the workshop where I found myself having to shield my eyes from the blinding sun.

  “Wait here.” I heard him fumbling with a panel across the way just before something above me clanked and clattered into action. I opened my eyes and saw that while it was still light enough in the room to see and work, it had also dimmed drastically.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I should’ve engaged the blinds beforehand.”

  “It’s no bother,” I assured awkwardly—sounding too formal. With the adrenaline gone, it was as if we were only just meeting for the first time. That Xander wasn’t someone who had just saved my life and carried me across his neck like a rag doll the night previously. I waited for my pupils to dilate back to normal. When they adjusted, I gasped at what I saw.

  Angled just behind him was his armor—a full bodied bronzed suit that looked as though it was made to hug every curve. Precise, sharp, deadly.

  My jaw dropped in disbelief as I circled around the magnificent build like a child giddy over sweet cake. “Is this . . . ? Is it . . . ?” I was astonished by his craftsmanship and the unique yet agile style of his armor’s design. I looked between the two, armor and man, and wondered how I hadn’t noticed how tall or fit Xander was before. But after I thought about it, I remembered. He did carry me like I was nothing more than a sack of grain.

  “—Is it finished?” he said for me. “Yes. It’s completed. It has been for some time now.”

  My brows creased. “I’m getting the suspicion you knew all along you would be joining the Barrage. And you knew this for a long time at that.”

  “Yes and . . . well no.” His head teetered as he considered a thought before continuing, “It’s nice to have around. You know, just in case.”

  Just in case?

  I frowned. No, I didn’t know what he meant.

  “Wait. Are you allowed to start on designs for the Barrage before the prearranged build time?”

  He shrugged. “No, not technically. Though, nowhere does it say you cannot. Let’s face it, Lily. You’re probably the only one who has yet to start on your suit.”

  I blanched hotly at his admittance. “That’s reassuring,” I muttered, my confidence beginning to leak from my every pore.

  His suit was unlike any other I had seen in the Barrage before. It was both streamlined and angled with hard edges—and looked as though it contoured to his body completely, giving him ultimate maneuverability. In the past, a large majority of the other fighter’s suits were oversized and bulky—which provided the necessary protection from assault—but in turn, hindered any swift dexterity because of it.

  “Your suit, it’s brilliant. Though, it doesn’t look like it offers much protection,” I added with an inquiring look.

  “I will sacrifice armor threshold for agility any day. You cannot kill what you cannot catch,” he said pointedly, crossing his arms again and regarding me coolly.

  “That’s true, I suppose. But are you faster than a bullet?” I asked, turning my head sharply his way, thinking of Sector 5 and the Gatling gun.

  Xander ran his fingers through his hair as if irritated by a memory. “The suit can handle bullets too.”

  Huh.

  He’d definitely put a great deal of consideration into his design. I tried imagining him testing his suit against multiple different arrays of projectiles here in the forge. For his sake, I hope the armor worked the first go-around. The way he said it, with obvious agitation, led me to believe he ran into a few mishaps along the way.

  Marveling at the solidarity of his suit, I walked around it again, running my fingers across the smoothness of its contours, the grooves of the subtle spiraled designs that were carved into it. I realized then, that he was staring at me as I did so.

  Feeling somewhat self-conscious, I put my hand back by my side.

  He took a step closer, making me feel anxious.

  I spoke in a rush. “I forgot to thank you . . .” I said, looking up into his stern face, “. . . for trying to save Mrs. Fawnsworth’s life and for helping me. For what you’re doing for me now.”

  Maybe my eyes had deceived me, but it appeared as though I made Xander nervous, maybe even angry. The muscle in his jaw clenched as he reached around me then, his finger hovering over a button mechanism on the suit’s side.

  “You’re welcome,” he said gruffly. “Now let me show you the best part.”

  Xander pressed the button and I nearly fell backwards as two enormous metal wings protruded from the rear of his suit. They were tapered bronzed pieces hinged together to form a rendition of a bird’s wing.

  I gasped. “You can fly with those?”

  He grinned slightly and nodded. “Metallic Microlattice. Like I said—comes in handy.”

  “They’re incredible,” I breathed as I reached towards the closest one. Previous Sector suits only had boosters that kept them aloft for short periods of time. Flying indefinitely would be a tremendous advantage for us.

  I dropped my fingers. “Wow, so you were right. Looks as though I’ve got some serious catching up to do.” With hands on my head, I tried to make a conscious list of all the tools I would need to gather. Blowtorch, cutters, vise, hammer, anvil, gloves . . . .

  I bit my lip, forcing myself into engineering mode. I had a month to create something that would protect me from a Gatling gun, spiked fists, Klaives and more. Our armor, this thin layer of metal, was to be the one thing that stood between our uncertain fate of life or death.

  “Xander, I need some drafting paper and pens. My time is running out and I need to—” I rambled off, but stalled after turning to find that he was holding his hand out for me again.

  “What?” I asked somewhat too sharply.

  “What you need to do is to follow me.”

  I frowned at him skeptically, but complied after seeing the seriousness in his face. I denied him my hand and gestured for him to show the way.

  Xander led me down a hallway and pointed to a room on the left. I looked inside. It was complete with a bookshelf and a small bed. It was unlike any room I had ever slept in, but it was cozy enough.

  “You can take this room. Leave your bag and follow me.”

  I frowned, not caring for his bossiness or the sudden change in his attitude. I placed my bag on the floor and decided I preferred it hidden under the bed. After I successfully shoved it under, I stood tall, my shoulders back, prepared for whatever Xander wanted to show me. He entered another hallway and ushered me through the door at its end, which creaked and whined as it opened into the bright sunshine.

  There was sand everywhere. A small training yard.

  Did he want me to fight him? Right now?

  I almost laughed as I stepped out into the brightness and sunk into the warm sand beyond. Almost laughed—until I saw three very menacing training droids coming my way.

  “Xander, what is this?” I turned to ask, but found that he had already shut and locked the door behind me.

  I resisted the urge to grab at the handle, not wanting to give away my sudden panic.

  He opened a slit in the door, gazing out at me with those stupid, condescending eyes of his. And in an equally stupid, condescending voice, he said:

  “Adapt. Fight. Survive, Lily.”

  He closed the slit, leaving me to my own bidding. No weapons. No idea what was going on.

  I scoffed, looking with wrathful, disbeliev
ing eyes at the locked door before me. I didn’t have time for this. “I’ll survive all right!” I shouted suddenly, pounding on the door with both fists. “And when I’m through surviving, I’m going to throttle you!”

  More furious threats threatened to choke me as I whirled about to face the oncoming droids.

  I was wrong. Xander was very prepared.

  This could be interesting.

  Chapter 11

  The Well Of Trust

  The droids marched towards me at an alarming rate. I stood motionless as I processed what exactly I was to do about it. I searched the ground. There was nothing I could use as a makeshift weapon.

  Nothing. Only sand.

  Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more complicated, an exhaust of steam shot out from behind me as three more droids stepped out from the paneling in the wall.

  I was surrounded. Great.

  I crouched, trying to make myself as small a target that I could as I moved slowly, turning my head this way and that to maintain a constant visual on both the droids at my back and those at my front. Instinctively, I felt as though it was not I who was keeping my distance from them. Rather, they were herding me into a position of their choosing.

  What is Xander doing?

  I noticed that the droids in front of me were not advancing as quickly as the droids from behind, and neither side held any weapons from what I could discern. All were holding blunt training poles tight against their chests, elbows out, iron masks straight ahead: no fighting stance that I’d ever seen.

  No real weapons? All right, then. Time for a quick reaction: I rushed the droids that advanced at my rear, foiling their plan of pushing me further into the training yard. I tried to dive through the gap between the two closest to me—but just as I reached the opening—a piercing shock went through my entire body, slamming me forcefully to the sand. The tiny granules sprayed in an arch around me from the impact, falling on my face and into my mouth. I spat and tensed, feeling the electricity radiate from the tips of my fingers all the way down to my toes. Stunned more than hurt, my mind scrambled to figure out what this was all about.

  Was it a trick? Some form of training simulation? Or did Xander have an ulterior purpose in mind? I have only known him for two days after all. If this was indeed a training simulation, as I hoped, I had formulated my first realization: Never underestimate your opponent and their ability to hurt you.

  Lesson learned.

  Ignoring the lingering tremors in my body, I pushed myself back to my feet, determined to keep the droids behind me at a safe distance. I had no other choice than to allow them to force me further and further into the center of the enclosure. They circled so close without actually touching me that it caused the end of my hair to stand due to the surrounding mass of electricity that pervaded the air.

  Were they going to attack me all at once? Electrocute me to death?

  What were they waiting for?

  I called out in panicked frustration, “Xander, I’m not quite sure what you’re trying to accomplish by this, but I get it. I’m trapped. Call them off! We don’t have time—”

  The droids came no further. Their electric charges zapped and crackled by my side, making my long hair rise haphazardly in the air around me as if tousled by the wind.

  Nothing happened—not until I noticed the sand beneath my feet starting to shift. I side-stepped as close to the droids as I could, regarding the moving sand with growing panic. Three seconds later the sand had dissipated enough to reveal a circular metal grate below my feet.

  He wouldn’t.

  He would. And he did. I would’ve taken my chances and charged the droids again if I’d known he was going to remove the floor from beneath me.

  I managed to squeeze my eyes tightly in accepted realization just before the metal grate gave way and dropped me weightlessly through the air. I prepared myself for the inevitable impact—all while envisioning multiple ways of hurting Xander on my way down.

  ~

  Instead of hitting hard ground like I was expecting, my body splashed into a large collection of drainage water. My throat clenched in fear as I sank deeper into its weightless darkness. I would’ve preferred slamming into concrete as irrational as that sounds.

  Like most Prosperitan citizens: I couldn’t swim.

  I gasped for air when my body’s natural buoyancy allowed me to surface momentarily. Arms flailing, legs kicking uselessly, I sputtered debris-filled water, desperate to draw a complete breath

  Relax, Lily, I encouraged myself. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I kicked and felt the tip of my boot hit something hard.

  A beam.

  My heart thudded a beat of both panic and relief as I followed it to the wall of what I now realized to be a water well and steadied myself on its tiny six inch diameter. My body shook as I crouched low on the slanted beam, struggling to regain my composure, my terror threating to choke me.

  Squinting from the drastic change in lighting, I stared from the shade of the well into the bright sunlight that shone and flickered like a beacon near the circular entrance high above. I shielded my eyes as small bits of sand continued to rain down, falling into my hair, and pelting my face as I searched the opening.

  I couldn’t tell if the attacking droids remained at the well’s entrance. If they were, and they got anywhere near the water, I’d be toast. Literally.

  Forget the droids. I need to find a way out of here first.

  Desperate to quell the panic in my chest, I regarded the height of the wall and the water that sloshed around me. In the back of my mind I knew that this was some sort of training session. It has to be.

  How this would help me in the Barrage, I hadn’t the slightest idea. Maybe Xander was crazy and this wasn’t a test after all. What if he intended to keep me in this well as his prisoner? His ransom? My family would not come for me. No one would.

  I shook my head of the absurd thoughts. Xander was to be my partner. And has already saved my life on multiple occasions the night before. This had to be a test.

  Whatever his intentions, I was furious. What a bloody Arsehat . . . . Anger welled up inside my chest again and the desire to beat Xander senseless gave even more incentive to get out of here.

  Continuing to balance on the beam, I surveyed the area around me. The walls were grimy and slick with slime—which meant there would be no climbing out of here. And good thing I was a fairly decent dancer, otherwise my legs would’ve given out by now from the balancing act.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration and scowled. Taking a shuddering breath, I looked up again. Squinting, I spotted something I hadn’t noticed before. An inconsistency: a dark crevice behind the wall of slime. My eyes traveled around and above me. There were dark notches all along the walls that spiraled up to the mouth of the well.

  Frowning, I searched my mind for an answer. Was I supposed to climb up using them as foot and hand holds? The nearest one was too far for me to reach from where I stood. I groaned, understanding I had no other choice. I had to get back into the water.

  I grimaced as I carefully slid back in. I held tightly to the side of the beam, cursing as I knew I had to let go if I was to make it to the other side. Gritting my teeth, I pushed off—hard, propelling myself towards the opposite wall.

  I latched onto a notch using only my fingertips. It was cold and algae-ridden, which made it nearly impossible to manage a good grip. I desperately searched for a second handhold and spotted it high above my head, out of reach.

  In a fit of anger I pounded at the water, almost forgetting I didn’t know how to swim. So I pushed off again against the wall and surged back to the beam.

  —It moved as my body came into contact with it.

  I held onto it for what seemed like ages as my brain slowly took control over my panic. The key to my escape had been in front of me this entire time.

  The beam.

  The idea sounded preposterous, but perhaps I could devise a way to use it in tandem with
the notches in the wall and work my way back to the top?

  I could see no other options.

  Gathering as much courage as I could, I grabbed the steel beam and was surprised by how light the water made it seem. Angling its end into the bottom of the well, I pushed off again so I could position the other end into the notch of the wall.

  It fit perfectly.

  My heart leaped as I climbed onto the slanted surface like a beast rising from the swamp. The weight of my drenched clothing was irritating, but I would have to make do. Holding on, my limbs shaking with stress and oncoming exhaustion—I searched out my next move.

  Something wasn’t adding up.

  There was no conceivable way to move myself and the beam while I stood on it.

  If only I had another . . . .

  I peered down into the water and saw what I was searching for: a second beam, its rectangular surface lighter than the water surrounding it.

  The pieces of my dilemma were now falling in place like an elaborate puzzle. The beam however, was still submerged beneath the depths of the murky water. Murky water I would have to swim through. Mentally, I tried to rationalize the objective rather than let fear overwhelm me.

  It’s just water. Stop freaking out.

  If I was guessing correctly on the use of these beams, swimming to the bottom to retrieve it would be the least of my worries. How was I to make it all the way to the top of the well without falling or dropping one of them?

  If I slipped and fell without anything to support myself on—I would surely drown.

  This was insane.

  When I get out of this, Xander’s a dead man.

  I took a few deep breaths, preparing my lungs for the dive. I had to calm myself otherwise I would exert too much of my remaining strength and air on the way down. With trembling fingers, I removed the top layer of my heavy tunic and threw it to the other side of the beam. It landed with a thud and sloshed cold droplets into the air. Not wanting to cut my feet on the beam’s jagged and rusted edges, I decided to not take my boots off—even though I knew they’d only drag me down.