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The Seven

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Год написания книги
2019
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Ignoring the growing terror, the Knight Commander continues to sing, clinging to his faith.

And at the last, Alpha’s silver wings unfurl, and he moves from dive to glide, cutting over their heads, cutting through their song, silencing, and carrying on, leaving the Knight Commander and his followers behind.

On instinct, they have all turned to watch the immortal’s progress, a line of confused faces.

‘Sir?’ asks one of the knights, an irritating quake in her voice. ‘What does this mean, sir?’

A good question, he thinks. What does it mean? ‘Get me airborne!’ he shouts. ‘Where He goes, we follow.’

The journey to the landing pillar takes too long. The capsules that spirit them up to the pillar’s top take too long. The Knight Commander can feel Alpha moving further and further away. He berates himself for not having predicted this. What a fool he was to imagine that The Seven would care for welcomes or parades. They are above such things. Alpha must have come ahead of his brothers and sisters for a reason, to do something glorious for the good of the Empire. And while the Knight Commander cannot guess what that is, he is determined to be a part of it.

Only a handful of Seraph Knights fit into the hold of the sky-ship with him, the rest forced into land vehicles.

They race south, over neatly ordered hillsides and lines of trees, tall and straight, that look like points on a grid when viewed from above.

Reports of Alpha’s progress come in fits and starts. Brief sightings reported in terms of wonder directly into the Knight Commander’s ear. The immortal is flying in a straight line, but when his course is plotted on a map, the Knight Commander is surprised to find it is not taking them directly to Greyspot Three.

A call comes through from one of his soldiers. ‘Report.’

‘He’s here, sir. I can see Him!’

The Knight Commander confirms the soldier’s location. A small village known as Diligence to its inhabitants. There is little to recommend it. In fact the place is not connected to any major settlements, forcing traders to walk hard paths to get there. A backwater, mostly forgotten.

Could Alpha remember it as something more? Is this a site of significance that we have unwittingly neglected?

He turns his attention back to the soldier. ‘What is Alpha doing now?’

‘Circling, sir.’

‘Just circling?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then hold your position. We’ll be there shortly. Keep me informed if there are any changes.’

‘He’s seen something, sir. He’s … diving.’

The soldier sets a flare off from his position, and the sky-ship zooms in on it. Diligence is a grim and rocky place. The power stations and main gathering areas are built under the earth, along with half of the housing, but it has grown over the years, simple extensions jutting directly from the walls. None of these extensions appear to be to standard and the number of them indicates a much higher population than is currently registered.

Even without the flare to guide them in, it is easy to see where Alpha has landed. A circle of charred grass surrounds a new hole in the ground, a new entrance to Diligence’s underground network of tunnels.

They set down, leaping from the hatch the moment the sky-ship has settled, and rush toward the hole. The footing is unsteady near the edge, and more than one knight wobbles, graceless, as they try to stay upright.

Around them the air feels charged and angry, making it hard to breathe.

Suddenly nervous of what he will see, the Knight Com-mander peers over the edge. Below he sees Alpha of The Seven, his sword drawn, shimmering as the echoes of song slowly fade.

At the immortal’s silver feet is a smear of ash, making the loose shape of a body.

Alpha holds up his other hand. In it is a visor, black, featureless. The Knight Commander has seen pictures of it before. It is the kind of armour preferred by the First, largest and most powerful of the remaining infernals.

He finds his eyes drawn to Alpha’s. Their blue is like a second sky, a better horizon. When Alpha speaks, each word strikes deep, a hammer to his chest.

‘Diligence is tainted.’

‘We will evacuate the town at once, destroy it, cleanse the ground, and send the inhabitants to the purging centres.’

The visor crumples in Alpha’s fist. ‘Destroy, yes. Cleanse, yes. But send none away.’

The Knight Commander swallows at the thought. He has just looked at the population figures for Diligence. They number in the hundreds and are likely conservative. Surely the majority are in ignorance? Surely it is only a few that have been colluding with the First?

Even as he thinks this, he is drawing his sword. His knights have already done so. Anything else would be an act of defiance.

There is no further reflection. The Seraph Knights begin to sing, their swords flaring to life, and Diligence begins to burn.

Vesper’s father nods to the soldiers as he makes the long walk out of the city. An endless cycle of salutes and responses, nods and smiles, polite. They have become especially sharp of late, exhausting in their exactitude.

His lips move as he walks, silently counting steps until he is well beyond the outer boundary. Then he stops, pulling eagerly at his collar, loosening the straps on his armour.

A deep breath and a long sigh follow as his body settles, changing posture, relaxing.

The next part of the walk is taken at a more leisurely pace, thoughts of the day playing across his face in a series of frowns, raised eyebrows and the occasional smile.

Many times, the Knight Commander has offered him a room at the city or transportation home, and he has refused them. The Knight Commander doesn’t understand why but tolerates the decision out of respect for past deeds and honours.

Vesper’s father slows, stops. He glances over his shoulder but nothing is there. Then, gradually, as if lifted by an invisible hand, his head tilts towards the sky.

He lifts a hand to shield his eyes, squinting against the light of the evening suns. A shape is just discernible, des-cending, distant, yet getting closer. A cube.

The sanctum of The Seven returns.

There is something different about the way it comes down compared to its ascent. Not faster but more purposeful.

He stares at it, face darkening despite the glare.

Because of this, it takes him far longer to notice the movement at ground level. From the Shining City comes another shape. A snake of metal, mechanized, a machine of war to carry Seraph Knights and soldiers. Caterpillar tracks pull it swiftly across the countryside, towards him. Towards his home.

He stops staring, turns, and runs.

A few miles away Jem stands on a hill holding a battered scope to his eye. Through it he sees high platinum pillars capped in green, gardens decorating their sides in leafy spirals. These pillars visibly mark the Shining City’s border. Another border, invisible, runs along their perimeter, a fizzing screen of energy to keep the infernal at bay. Jem cares little for the screen or the pillars, his interests lie deeper. But his attempt to find the sanctum of The Seven is doomed to failure. Even at full magnification it is nothing more than a vague shimmering.

He begins to wander down the hill, leaving Harm and Reela at the house. Twice he stumbles on uneven ground, his attention kept on the air.

Finally, the cube comes into focus, and something else. At first he thinks it is a bird, but it is too close to the Sanctum for that to be true. And it is the wrong shape, far larger than any of the wildlife at this end of the world.

One of The Seven has left the Sanctum.

It is flying towards him.
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