The Will of the Many (Hierarchy Book 1)

I TELL THEM MY PLAN on the way. Neither of them seem to like it.

“That is a terrible plan,” says Aequa.

“It is,” agrees Callidus between gulping lungfuls of air as we jog. “And if anyone is going to do something that stupid, it should be me. You’d be risking yourself for no reason.”

“He’s right,” huffs Aequa. She’s leading us, setting a remarkable pace given that she’s both navigating by torchlight, and has already made this journey at a run once tonight. “Though I also think it’s just unnecessary.”

“We’re blind out here. What happened with Iro and Belli proves it.” My own breath comes in short gasps, but I’m feeling surprisingly good. A benefit of having drowsed, however uncomfortably, for a few hours this afternoon. “From what Veridius said, those stone circles the Sextii have can track all of us. Every single one of the Thirds and Fourths. So we need one. And this might be our only chance to get one.” There’s no judgment in the statement; Aequa’s plan was smart, the right move under the circumstances. But it means that now—knowing both Iro’s location, and the direction he’s just come from—is our only opportunity to act.

“Then we should go together,” says Callidus.

“Agreed.”

There’s a pause, and then Callidus grunts. “Good.” He clearly expected more resistance. “So… we’re going to take on two Sextii. Or maybe four, if our safety team has come across Iro’s. By ourselves.”

“We’re going to steal their tracker,” I correct him. “I’m not insane.”

Callidus exchanges a dubious look with Aequa in the flickering torchlight.

“One of them will be watching it the whole time,” warns Aequa. “Even with Iro camped, they’ll want to know as soon as he moves. And they’ll have to monitor for any emergencies, too.”

“That’s why Callidus here will distract them,” I explain brightly to her. Callidus shifts, suddenly looking less enthused about coming along.

“If either of us is caught, we’ll be disqualified.” Callidus isn’t protesting so much this time as making an observation. He knows me well enough to know I’ve made up my mind. “Even if we’re not, if anyone finds out later…”

“We’re not breaking the rules as they were laid out.”

“We’d be breaking the spirit of them.”

“Whatever it takes,” I remind him.

There are a few other arguments after that, but they’re weaker. Callidus and Aequa both know we need an advantage; no matter how good we are in a fight—and between us, we are reasonably good—it won’t help if we’re taken by surprise again.

By the time we slow and Aequa motions for us to quiet, it’s been decided. Aequa will rejoin Iro and Belli, while Callidus and I locate one of the two safety teams now following them, and steal their tracking plate. Aequa will find a way to break away from Iro’s team with my medallion in the morning. We’ll regroup tomorrow before noon at the base of a towering cliff, about an hour north-east of where we are currently.

There’s a lot that could go wrong. But given the risks of stealing from the Sextii, it will be easy enough to separate myself from Callidus.

That gives me an entire night and morning by myself, untracked, to cross the western river. Find the dome. Run the Labyrinth.

“This is it,” Aequa whispers as she catches her breath. “Iro’s a few minutes farther up. We came from that way.” She orients herself against the nearby looming mountain and points. “There’s a deep ravine. Walk along the left-hand edge. It’s the only passable section for miles, so if they’re really only fifteen minutes behind, at least one safety team should be along there somewhere.”

“Thanks.”

She nods. “What happens if you’re not there by noon tomorrow?”

“Start toward the Heart of Jovan. I should have a tracking plate by then. I’ll find a way to catch up to you.” Aequa opens her mouth to protest, but I shake my head firmly. “If something happens to us, that’s my fault. If we never turn up, you try for the win yourself.” Aequa looks displeased at the prospect, so much so that I laugh. “It’s not my ideal scenario, either.”

Callidus snorts, while Aequa just half smiles. “Fine.”

I watch as Callidus unhooks his medallion from around his neck: he can’t wear it tonight, not if we want to take the Sextii by surprise. He doesn’t hesitate as he hands it to Aequa.

I move to depart, then delay.

“I owe you an apology.” I’d considered not saying anything, but it had to have been obvious. “I actually thought you were switching sides, back there.”

Aequa, to my surprise, smirks at me. “I know. It was kind of hard not to laugh at your expression.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Wouldn’t have worked if you didn’t believe it.”

“I still should have trusted you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. You had every reason not to. And I counted on the fact you wouldn’t.” She looks at me. “You should now, though.”

“I do.” I mean it. She’s proven herself, as far as I’m concerned. “Luck, Aequa.”

“You too,” she returns quietly to us both.

Callidus and I split off from the path, foliage quickly taking Aequa from view.

We press forward in the direction Aequa indicated for the better part of an hour, mostly without words, progress slowed both by the tangled underbrush and the need for silence. Everything’s hushed. My muscles ache from tension. Walking in the dark like this is deliberate, dangerous going, but we can’t risk a torch.

I’m just beginning to wonder whether we’ve somehow missed the safety teams altogether, when a bright flicker of orange pokes through the trees up ahead.

“Vis,” breathes Callidus from behind me.

We drop low. I ignore the way the brush scratches my arms and digs into my tunic, and worm forward. Faint voices drift to us, and then a burst of raucous laughter. The Sextii sound in good cheer. Relaxed.

“… Latrius is a better rider.”

“Bah. Maybe, but Red’s a better team.”

There’s immediate, boisterous disagreement from the other one. Both men. They’re huddled close to the fire, talking about chariots; Latrius is one of the more famous participants from Blue.

“Just the two of them.” Relief in Callidus’s whisper.

“Can you see the tracking plate?”

“No. It can’t be far, though.”

The friendly argument in the camp continues for several minutes—longer than it should, really, given the subject matter—and I continue to creep forward, refusing to surrender to impatience. The two of them are broad-shouldered, grey tunics sharp against the muted colours of their surroundings. Despite the cold, neither is cloaked.

There’s some brief talk about something I don’t quite catch, and then the conversation moves on to grumbling about restrictions in Caten for the upcoming Festival of Ocaria. Idle talk, but the constant flow of chatter gives us an easy way to creep around the camp’s perimeter without being heard.

Time passes in a tense haze of slowly, slowly worming along, constantly pausing to see if the tracking plate is discernible. The Sextii’s names, from what I gather, are Borius and Darin. After about twenty minutes, Darin grunts as he’s fetching some wood for the fire. “Damned arm,” he mutters, rubbing at his shoulder. He glances at Borius. “They take your blood too?”

Borius nods. “Makes a man uneasy, that stuff.”

Darin finishes adding fuel to the flames, then peers at something on the ground. “The stray’s been back with them for an hour now. I don’t think they’re moving again tonight.”

“Lucky us.” Borius rubs his forehead. “I wish he’d just get out of the way.”

“It’s not like it matters until tomorrow night, anyway.” Darin shifts, and I feel a thrill of elation as he picks up the circular tracking plate and offers it to Borius. “You want to take first watch?”

Borius accepts it, passing a disinterested gaze over its surface before putting it on the log beside him. “Six hours?”

“Wake me then.”

I signal with my head to Callidus as Darin prepares his sleeping roll a short distance from the merrily crackling fire. We retreat, gradually enough that it takes five minutes before I feel safe dragging myself up again, taut muscles groaning. “Aequa was right. They’re not going to let that thing out of their sight.”

“They have to relieve themselves eventually. Or one of them might fall asleep on watch.”

“I doubt they’ll go farther than the edge of the camp. And they’re Sextii. They’re not going to nap on duty, even if they think there’s nothing to worry about out here.” I give him an apologetic look. “We need that distraction.”

Callidus scowls. “Why do I have to be the bait?”

“Do you want to try and fight them if this doesn’t work?”

Callidus huffs. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing big. Don’t go setting the forest ablaze or anything. Something that’s just enough to pull them to the other edge of the camp. I can get close. All I need is a minute to sneak over, take the tracking plate, and get back into the trees.” I think. “Try and make it something unthreatening. Best case, Borius doesn’t even wake Darin before going and having a look.”

Callidus raises an eyebrow. “So something distracting but unthreatening. And quiet enough not to wake the sleeping guy.”

“Easy.” I grin at him. “Circle around and start in about… a half hour? That should be enough time for Darin to get to sleep, and Borius to settle. Once you’ve done it, though, just run. Don’t wait for me. Don’t risk getting caught.”

Callidus doesn’t argue. He understands the difficulty of trying to escape a Sextus. “After that?”

“Head back to where we’re meeting Aequa. I’ll have the tracking plate. I’ll find you on the way.”

“What if you don’t?”

“Then I’ve been delayed. Just get back to that cliff and wait for me there.” I have no intention of finding Callidus tonight; I’ll be heading west, straight for the dome. But a story about evading capture by two Sextii should explain the lost time well enough.

Callidus confirms with a nod and turns to go, then pauses. “What do you think they meant about tomorrow night, back there?”

I shake my head. I caught that too. “No idea.”

Callidus wryly indicates the same, then takes a deep breath. “Luck, Vis.”

“You too. See you soon.”

He vanishes into the shadows.

BEFORE TOO LONG THERE’S STEADY breathing from Darin’s direction, a hush falling over the woods. Borius whittles down a stick with a short blade, mostly staring into the fire. He’s awake to watch the tracking plate, then, not ward against intruders. That’s good. He won’t be paying as much attention to his surroundings, and his night vision will be impaired.

It’s hard to assess the passing of time, frozen in place as I am like this, every breath feeling like it lasts an hour. I’m just beginning to wonder if something has happened to Callidus when I see Borius stiffen. Frown toward the opposite line of trees.

A second later a strong male voice floats along the breeze, faint but audible.

“… to answer her pleading request, to tell her the part he thought best, he told her she wouldn’t have guessed…”

I almost have to stifle a laugh as I recognise the tune. One of the Fourths was teaching it to everyone a few weeks ago—not much more than a dirty rhyme set to music, but catchy. Callidus is hardly the most impressive singer, but I suppose in context, his off-key wailing is effective.

“What in the gods’ names?” Borius checks the stone circle beside him and then stands, glancing over at his sleeping companion. My heart stops as he wavers, then takes a step in the opposite direction. Two. His head’s cocked to the side, as if still not quite believing his ears. The tracking plate remains on the log where he left it. Between me and him.

“… he liked her so much, he went into the brush, and now he’s…”

I will Borius forward. His hand’s resting on the blade at his side. Steel, not a Razor. A few more steps. He’s almost at the far end of the small clearing. I hold my breath. Resist the urge to move straight away. It’s wise; Borius glances back around at the still-sleeping Darin, looking torn. His eyes are black.

With a confused shake of his head, he makes his decision. Vanishes into the trees.

I don’t delay, scrambling to my feet and darting the thirty or so feet to the plate. A quick glance tells me it’s what I’m looking for: small coloured stones litter its surface, and don’t move when I snatch it up. I’ll have to figure out how to read it later.

I turn to go, then spot a cloak lying in shadow on the ground nearby. I take a few extra steps and snag it. It’s cold tonight, and while I can probably survive in my tunic, I don’t want to have to. Especially as I’m going to have to swim soon enough.

“Stop.”

Ice ripples down my spine as Borius’s command comes while I’m still ten paces from the safety of the trees. I do as he says. Close my eyes. Only the sound of dying embers disturbs the hush. Once he sees my face, it’s over.

“Wha—?” It’s a sleepy half question from Darin.

I’m a hundred feet from Borius. He’ll be able to smash through the forest far more easily than me, but being a Sextus lends him no extra speed.

I run.

“STOP!” Borius roars it, loud enough that birds sleeping in the surrounding bushes burst into flustered flight. I’m already into the trees, but there’s suddenly a horrendous creaking behind me. Something scythes through the air, not ten feet from where I am. Spinning and smashing through branches with a roaring crash.

It’s a tree. Borius just threw a tree at me.

Birthright does not seem to be his primary concern, right now.

I dive away to the left, into the deep brush. Then I force myself to crouch and move methodically, shuffling rather than pressing on blindly. A twisted ankle will be almost as bad as getting caught, here, and worse—if I’m too noisy, Borius will be able to pinpoint the direction I’ve gone. There are plenty more trees for him to uproot and hurl after me.

There are confused shouts from Darin, answered by a furious and unsettlingly close Borius. The crashing of another massive object thundering through the woods, though farther away this time. Before the deafening noise fades I lie prone in the midst of a thick clump of bushes, ignoring the prickles raking my skin, doing all I can to still my ragged, panicked breathing. I think I had enough of a head start that Borius could believe I got away. Rather than waste time searching for me, he and Darin will surely head for somewhere they can report what’s happened.

Borius rails at me, and the still-groggy Darin, and the gods. After a minute his raging eases to incensed shouting as he starts ordering Darin to pack up camp, and then there’s an unsettling silence. I don’t move, all but holding my breath, eyes straining in the direction the two men lie.

There’s nothing for a minute. Two.

Then a crackling of twigs and a flicker, light against darkness. Borius is holding a torch high, stomping through the woods, orange flame showing grim fury. He glowers into the forest, and though he’s fifty feet away, I still have to restrain a sliver of panic as his gaze sweeps over my position.

“I know you’re still here,” he calls, more of a snarl than anything else.

He’s fishing, of course. Desperate.

My confidence wanes as he bends down, examining something on the ground, and then starts walking in my direction.

Vek. He’s probably a capable hunter, and I was hardly able to cover my tracks during my initial, desperate dash. Once I slowed, I think it will be harder to spot where I went—and I did change course a couple of times—but he’s going to find me.

I force my breathing to a quiet rhythm. Judging from the trees he was hurling earlier, there’s no chance I can take him in a fight. I’m going to have to run; the question is when, how long to hold off, how long to risk hoping that he’ll just give up. The closer he gets, the less likely it is that I get away.

Borius picks his way forward, focusing on the ground, though his head twitches to the side at any hint of movement in his peripheral vision. He’s thirty feet away. Twenty. On a different trajectory to where I am, but he’ll end up close enough that I don’t think I can avoid being seen, even hidden here beneath the shrubbery.

“Borius!” It’s Darin. “Ready!”

Borius doesn’t respond, scanning the nearby area, eyes narrowed.

“Borius!”

“Coming!” His head snaps back around in the direction of his comrade, shout filled with frustration. He puts his hand against the thick trunk of a nearby tree. The entire thing seems to shiver; suddenly it’s ripping from the ground, crashing against the surrounding foliage, hovering in mid-air. Darin’s facing me. He snarls and hurls.

It takes everything I have not to do more than flinch, not to break from cover and dive away from the destructive force that smashes past less than ten feet away. Branches snap and fly off, some raining down into the bushes where I’m hiding.

The forest swallows the final echoes of the destruction and Borius whirls, stalking away back in the direction of his camp.

I wait until he’s out of sight before I close my eyes and lay my forehead against the rough ground, exhaling shakily. That didn’t go according to plan, and the “safety” team was very definitely less inclined toward safety than I expected. I can still hear Borius barking orders, Darin sounding a mixture of defensive and exasperated. Receiving a small portion of what Borius wants to heap on my head, no doubt.

I give it twenty minutes after the last of their voices fade into the night, unwilling to chance their having decided to double back. There’s nothing, though. No indication that anyone is nearby. Hopefully Callidus is already well away from here.

Finally I crawl out of the bushes, stumbling to my feet and making my way over to a newly fallen log. I toss the cloak I stole around my shoulders and sit. Enough moonlight filters through the trees for me to see now, and I bring the tracking plate up close to my face.

It’s about a foot across, thin but still with some weight to it. On its surface, dozens of stones protrude, firmly attached, and some—I think, though it’s hard to tell in the dim, silvery light—a different colour from the majority. I frown, poking at them. None move. I twist the plate, flip it, turn in a circle. None move.

“Vek,” I mutter. Did it rely on Borius having possession of it, somehow? That seems unlikely; he was checking it without touching it this evening. Could I have broken it, somehow, in the mad dash to get away? Nothing appears cracked or even chipped.

I slip it in my satchel, push to my feet again and orient myself against the waning moon, leaving a more detailed inspection for later. I don’t have time to waste.

I strike out westward, toward the river. Toward the dome.