The Fadian Escape Read online

  W. A. Ford

  The Fadian Escape

  First published by Dark Flame Productions LLC 2021

  Copyright © 2021 by W. A. Ford

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  W. A. Ford asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  W. A. Ford has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  First edition

  ISBN: 978-1-7356596-2-6

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

  Find out more at reedsy.com

  This book is dedicated to my fellow indie authors.

  Keep pushing the limits of literature.

  “You Chose this.”

  Contents

  Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by W. A. Ford

  Acknowledgement

  Cover by: Nefarious Cover Creations

  Chapter One

  Egoly lay in the most lavish bed afforded to anyone in the city, but rest eluded him. Kaleigha was in distress and there was nothing he could do.

  “It’s her fate,” he whispered repeatedly until it sounded like a child’s prayer, yet his brain remained unconvinced.

  And his heart.

  His chest ached with despair so acute it was unmatched except for what he felt the day he was first bound by the Elders in the tunnel beneath the mansion in the park. The darkness, the restriction, and the feeling of betrayal were as fresh in his mind as they were that long-ago day.

  Somewhere in this tower, Kaleigha ran the same gamut of emotions and projected them violently into her surroundings.

  “Don’t fight it,” he pushed back at her fear. The words had no weight, but he hoped they brought her comfort.

  Her pain radiated to a climax, and then it was gone.

  The loss of her presence hurt worse than her pain. He reached out once more, but she was silent.

  Egoly jumped up and stalked over to the window. From this vantage point, he could see a third of Ilma’s ghostly army.

  He squinted into the distance.

  His eyes did not deceive him: Ilma paced the stalled line like a caged beast. He admired her form and her steely will. There was nothing that deterred her from attaining something she desired.

  A chill ran down his back when he remembered he was now one of those things.

  Ilma came to a sudden stop and turned toward the city. Her piercing gaze rested on the glimmering Union Tower.

  Egoly stood still, hoping that their bond was broken.

  He was wrong.

  A prisoner still.

  It was not a question. Egoly turned away from the window and headed for the bathroom. He was in no mood for Ilma’s aggravating word salad. He squeezed his eyes shut in a futile effort to drive her from his mind. She went quiet, but he knew it was of her own choice.

  Egoly wandered over to the stately desk where he was expected to take thoughtful notes on his daily missions. The thick stationery and well-made pens lined up in a neat row over the face of the desk. They offered a wild contrast to the ragged box of playing cards sitting askew on the edge of the desk. He let his fingers drift around the stationary and over to the box of cards. He rubbed the worn surface and tried to imagine her nimble fingers sifting through the cards and laying out the fates. The box of cards was the only thing he managed to swipe from her room after she fell asleep.

  After you betrayed her and they put her down.

  Egoly snatched the cards up and held them protectively.

  “I’ll figure out a way to make this right,” Egoly hummed. He opened the box and ran the cards over his hands. Slowly, with his thoughts focused on Kaleigha, he shuffled the worn cards. “We will be together again.”

  He pulled a card and placed it on the desk.

  King of clubs.

  He did not know what it meant, but the regal face staring back at him bolstered his spirit and made him feel better. He stared at it a moment longer, taking in the rich details of the card before re-boxing the cards and stashing them on the desk.

  With a last glance at the morning sky, he moved to the bathroom.

  Egoly, showered in the marble and glass confection of a bathroom and tried to shake the dread creeping into his consciousness. There was nothing he could do about Kaleigha’s situation or Ilma’s except to remain in the breast of the people who put them in their individual predicaments. Perhaps, he thought as he wrapped the towel around his hips and walked into his closet, this would end better than their last effort.

  If that helps you sleep at night.

  Egoly’s heart clenched. He stared at himself in the gilt-trimmed mirror propped up in the wood-paneled space and wondered how his face remained unchanged. His jawline was still sharp and his skin remained smooth. The mirror did not reflect the ugly, treacherous thing he’d become since being freed from his subterranean prison.

  That’s not exactly true.

  The tiny voice that pestered him in his darkest moments popped up on cue.

  You were always a traitor. You even betrayed her before. What changed?

  Egoly sighed. He knew the answer, but he dared not respond. Not because he wasn’t sure where these voices originated, but because the answer might break him. He might not be able to wear the mask of a compliant fadian and the horrible monster he’d become would leach out and contort his unblemished face.

  And failure to comply was a death sentence.

  He feared the horror of non-existence, but not as much as he feared the loss of her.

  Egoly wretched his eyes away from his reflection and finished getting dressed. He had a breakfast meeting with his new master and there were penalties for being late.

  Egoly dashed out of his condo on the fourteenth floor of the Union’s tower and hurried over to the elevator bank. He checked the configurations before placing himself before the only car that rode up to the penthouse. He took a moment to breathe and slow his heart rate down before making eye contact with the camera perched over the elevator door.

  There was no mechanical beep, no human voice, or any other acknowledgment of his presence, save for the quiet appearance and opening of the elevator.

  He nodded to the camera before stepping into the gilded cage.

  The elevator closed and began its trek to the upper reaches with a hushed sigh.

  Egoly squinted at the three long columns of el
evator buttons, trying to pick up a hint of which floor might imprison Kaleigha. Small gages of energy pushed back against his probes, giving him a general idea of what was on each floor. There were also floors where his probes were absorbed and offered no echo or return. He concluded she must be held on one of these floors, but did not bother to press the corresponding buttons as this elevator was operated manually and monitored continuously.

  No, Egoly would have to explore on his own time and in the other elevators.

  The elevator sighed again, indicating the forty-floor climb was over.

  “Mr. Felder will see you now,” a short woman in a streamlined uniform that reflected the Union’s colors accosted him the moment he stepped into the penthouse’s foyer. “Please follow me.”

  Egoly trained his eyes on the woman and let her lead him into the living area.

  “Egoly!” Felder gave one of his cold smiles. “How are you this fine morning?”

  The sun was already up over the horizon, pouring golden light directly into the wall-to-wall windows. The furnishings were tasteful and modern in a harmonious color pallet that was at once cozy and confining. Felder sat in a low-slung chair reading the birth announcements as he did every morning.

  Egoly grunted a greeting.

  “Come now,” Felder stood up and gestured for Egoly to come closer.

  Egoly obliged, and Felder turned his shoulders so that he was staring directly into the sun. Instinct told him to look away as his eyes watered from the intense light, but it was clearly a test of some kind.

  “You miss her?” It was a question flung at him like an incrimination.

  Egoly fixed his gaze on one of the shorter towers so his eyes would not spill, then gave the only acceptable answer.

  “She is at peace.”

  “Indeed, she is,” Felder was satisfied, but continued, “She dreams of a world where you two are together.”

  Egoly’s stomach dropped. Was there a way for a non-fadian to even know such things? For a moment Egoly doubted Felder and then he realized that some other poor fadian was likely pressed into service, monitoring Kaleigha in her crystal sarcophagus.

  The mask threatened to break again.

  Egoly struggled to pull himself together without betraying the massive effort to the man who wanted nothing more than an excuse to renege on their unfavorable agreement.

  “Good to see you’re holding up your end,” Felder whispered, inches from his face. For a moment, Felders’s facade broke and the vicious man who’d put his own daughter under came through. The poisonous words hung in the air a moment longer and then the false warmth was back. “Come, let us eat.”

  The food was one perk of living in the Union tower. Fresh and wholesome, the dishes were comforting and filling without ever being too exotic or complex. The polished buffet held a spread of dishes more at home on a workingman’s table than in the towers.

  Egoly filled his plate just so, making sure not to take too much or too little. His hands trembled as he tried to put the serving utensils back without making a sound. He only succeeded in rapping out a staccato on the rim of some very expensive serving ware causing several people in the meeting to stiffen. They too were under the observation of the unforgiving eyes of Felder and his fellow Labor Leaders.

  He approached the table and nearly dropped his plate. Several minor Union officers were attempting to enjoy the privilege of being at this breakfast meeting, but to Felder’s immediate right was the Union’s fiercest enforcer, James Lanier or, as he was known to his victims, Mr. Jim.

  Egoly searched the table for a seat furthest away from this monster, but his pause, and the ensuing panic, did not go unnoticed.

  “Over here, my friend,” Felder pointed at the seat next to Mr. Jim, and the man occupying it didn’t take a breath before he scurried out of the chair.

  “Thank you,” Egoly tried to acknowledge the man’s sacrifice, but the man would not make eye contact.

  “Good morning, James,” Egoly nodded as he sat in the chair. He hid the nervous clank of his plate hitting the table under Jim’s return greeting.

  “Nice to see you again,” Jim gave a sincere, fatherly smile.

  “Same,” Egoly returned the smile before turning his eyes to his plate. He could see from the corner of his eye that Jim had nothing but buttered toast and black coffee before him. That meant only one thing.

  “I have a mission for you two,” Felder said as if he were offering them a million dollars and a tower of their own.

  “I look forward to seeing this one in action again,” Jim said, not even bothering to ask what the mission could be. But then again if it involved Egoly, it could only be one thing.

  “Another fadian’s been born?” Egoly tried to sound disgusted yet disaffected but was certain they saw his eye twitch.

  “A low born,” Felder nodded, scooping up a forkful of eggs, “A lot like our girl.”

  It was another test.

  Egoly cut a piece of scrapple and put it in his mouth to avoid responding.

  “How is she,” Jim asked, casual and curious as if he hadn’t been her father figure for the last two decades.

  “In love with this pretty boy here,” Felder jerked his chin at Egoly and the men burst into hearty laughter.

  “If it brings her peace…” Egoly shrugged and chuckled along with the men.

  His callous words seemed to suffice and the men shifted focus to others around the table. Felder called some underling over and praised their minor effort and Jim derived pleasure from making the woman across from him squirm beneath her plastered on smile.

  Egoly turned to the man beside him, who stared at him in awe.

  “You’re doing a great service to the city,” the man stumbled over his words, “Considering, I mean, how you overcame…”

  The man stopped, struggling to end the sentence in the most inoffensive way possible.

  “I chose how it ends,” Egoly smiled and reached for the carafe of orange juice on the table before them.

  “Let me get that for you!” The man was over-eager and immediately spilled the liquid onto the polished wood. “Sorry!”

  “Let’s go,” Jim tapped Egoly’s elbow and even though Egoly wanted to assure the man he’d done no harm, he followed the enforcer across the open floor plan of the penthouse to the elevator and left the man to his fate.

  A nondescript sedan with blacked-out windows awaited them in the underground parking garage. The sight of it made Egoly’s stomach roil. Such covert measures meant work in the towers.

  “Did you get a bad egg?” Jim asked as they climbed into the backseat. “You look a little sick.”

  “What’s the information on our target,” Egoly waved a dismissive hand.

  “To house Sales,” Jim instructed the driver.

  Egoly gaped.

  He couldn’t help it.

  There were some lines that couldn’t be crossed, not even by someone as powerful as Felder. House Sales was a willing ally to the union, but could easily be a formidable opponent with the resources to battle the Union and force them out of the towers.

  “What’s our extraction plan?” Egoly pulled himself back from the brink and tried to find a point of focus.

  “We’ll keep it casual and discreet,” Jim gave him a confident smile.

  Those words should have comforted Egoly, but this was worse than he imagined. He dared not ask if the Matron of house Sales was aware of their approach. He stared out the window at the oblivious city and wondered if this was a trap. Were they really taking him to some sub-basement where he’d live out the remainder of his days in darkness, bound…

  Pull yourself together. Ilma’s harsh tone was familiar and pulled him out of the sudden spiral. They won’t get rid of you until you’re no longer useful. Until then, you’re their favorite puppet.

  Egoly took a shuddering breath but drew no response from Jim. The car turned on a side street, then into the garage of House Sales.

  The driver circled up the l
evels until they reached the third floor, then he came to a sharp stop before the western stairwell.

  “Take a moment to pull yourself together,” Jim said as he got out of the car.

  Egoly closed his eyes, but he could already feel the young fadian’s presence. He sighed in relief as he realized the child was in the lower part of the tower and not in one of the suites above.

  Egoly thanked the driver before sliding out of the vehicle.

  “You’re getting better at this,” Jim nodded as the car pulled away. He led them to the stairwell then gestured for Egoly to lead the way.

  Egoly paused before taking the downward flight. Fleder’s info was good, they were only off by one floor. This landing was busy as it led to the staff quarters. The men slipped in without comment with a valet trained to turn a blind eye to all but his specified duties.

  Egoly followed the child’s power signature and as he got closer, realized it was only days old. He wondered if the mother would come, too.

  The door was plain but well maintained. A small placard posted next to the doorbell read ‘Ledon’ in neat script.

  Jim hung back, out of sight of the peephole, as Egoly knocked on the door.

  “Open!” a woman called.

  Egoly tested the door to find it was indeed unlocked.

  “Ms. Ledon?” Egoly opened the door and stepped inside. The woman was lounging on the couch, dressed in sleepwear, nursing a newborn.

  “Hello,” she did not seem alarmed, “How are you?”

  “I’m well,” Egoly shut the door behind him and when Ms. Ledon did not object, he took a seat in the armchair across from her. “My name is Egoly.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she smiled. “My name is Cytha. You’re new here. What division are you in?”

  “That’s a lovely name,” Egloy returned her smile. “I don’t actually work for the house.”

  “You’re visiting family,” the woman nodded with empathy. “Who’s your kin?”

  “Well, I’m actually here to see you,” Egoly watched as the woman’s face went from friendly to fearful.