Chapter 44
As Element recovered, Snow returned to New Call to discuss these Disciple 'lions': first, he gathered his leadership team to inform them of what had happened.
“I wouldn't be able to believe this if it came from anyone else, sire,” Certainty said as she examined Cleric Silver's sketch of the rotten lion. She passed the drawing on and shook her head. “An organic Disciple? The implications are grave.”
“You're talking about Call, aren't you?” Tide asked. His questions had begun to irk Snow.
“Yes,” Certainty said. “If the Disciples can do this to wolves or cats or whatever, I shudder to think what they might do to the missing people of Call.”
Snow's head dropped. With the hectic energy of sending messages along the Fronts and to Aureu, he hadn't considered the broadest implications. But now he drowned in the image of all those who had sacrificed themselves at his suggestion during the tragedy of Call’s collapse.
“The important thing,” Contegon Piety said, “is that we already know how dangerous, and how weak, the beasts are. If a well-prepared cadre can take down three, they are not the same threat as Disciples. Individually, anyway. All towers on our Front now host two Contegons. If we know how to fight them, regardless of how they are deployed, we can beat them.”
“And the risk,” Kick said, his voice as small as Snow felt, “is that the Disciples can produce these lions in large numbers. This feels like a field test, like when we tried out the Baptism for the first time. What if every Disciple from now on comes with a pack of these beasts?”
“I have made a recommendation to my counterpart,” Snow said as he looked up, “that we abandon every other tower and have four times the concentration of cadres and Contegons.”
“We'll lose coverage that way,” Tide said unhelpfully.
“But we will perhaps save lives,” Contegon Piety countered. “I approve of this plan.”
“Does everyone else?” Snow asked.
He looked around the table and saw a series of nods, even from the Stations whose views didn't count. He ordered Wing to have his order sent to every village.
The meeting continued with lesser matters of how to support towers now flooded with manpower, and how to maintain those now vacated. Each Station would disseminate information about the Disciples’ Lions (which seemed to be their official designation now) so preparations could be made for this new warfare: treatments, supplies, records etc. They wrapped up twenty minutes later and forewent the usual meal together. Snow was then left alone with the image of a hundred innocents being experimented on.
After that, he met with his Major Shields and Catch. Under his gentle insistence, they agreed to release an Acolyte and a Contegon to follow the beast's trail for warning signs other scouting parties could look for.
“And, with Certainty busy looking after the vacant towers, I suppose it'll have to be me who goes,” Snow said, his tone brooking no questioning.
Not even Catch argued: there were more important things to consider than the proper decorum of someone who wasn't yet Shield-General. Besides, until the Council responded, the Front could only prepare themselves for further attacks: his Major Shields could do that without him.
There were other meetings, panicked sessions with Clerics and Farmers seeking assurances of their safety, hurried meetings to agree protocols for dealing with dead Lions, and one interesting session with Axle, the senior Doctor of the Front, who got Snow to quarantine anybody exhibiting signs of disease after fighting the Lions.
“Creatures aren't the only way to attack,” the great, bloated Doctor said solemnly. Snow couldn't disagree.
He worked late into the night, establishing responsibilities and duties during this time of panic and flux, and felt more like a Shield-General than ever before. When he settled down to snatch a few hours of rest, he was content, and slept well.
The next day, he rose early. Catch entered his tent as he washed, and they sorted out the final details of the tasks Snow had handed out, mainly so Catch knew who to rip apart if something wasn't done on time. Too busy to forgo modesty, Snow worked as he washed and Roll and Wing dressed him.
“Given what's happened,” Catch said as he walked Snow to his flight area, “I think you're doing the right thing. You are this Front’s most powerful Acolyte. If you're going to track down the Disciples at the source of this… madness, you'll need all the strength you can get.”
“Thank you, Catch. I don't need your approval, but it is appreciated.”
Catch smiled. “You smug bastard, you're already sounding like a Shield-General. The next five days can't pass quick enough.”
“Five days?” Snow asked. That struck him like a hammer: he would officially be Shield-General in five days. “Oh, Sol, of course. The big day has just sneaked up on me.”
“You'll be fine,” Catch said. “Now get on and find whatever you can.”
“Mind the Front for me while I'm gone,” Snow said as he grew wings for the flight.
“I always do, don't I?”
Snow wanted to preserve his strength after foregoing breakfast, so he didn't soar towards Tenth, but glided, letting the wind carry him. He landed in the support village with morning well under way.
Element was waiting for him, fully dressed for battle. A Baptism rested on her hip. She stood stiff and proud, no sign of pain or discomfort on her face. Snow jogged over to her.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice clipped.
“Good morning, Element. I assume you're feeling up to tracking?”
She didn't respond for a moment, seeming to weigh up her answer. “I will go with you, yes. As for how I feel... that's a different matter.”
“If I can talk to you as a friend, instead of an Acolyte to a Contegon,” Snow said, “are you sure that you should? We might face combat, more Lions, and I'd hate for you to get hurt.”
“Answering as a friend,” Element said slowly, “you should trust me to assess my readiness. And, answering as a Contegon, I can only kill one Lion, maximum, alone.” She pointed to her Baptism. “My fighting style is not suited to hurting those monsters, and carrying more Baptisms would be dangerous. If we get into a fight, I will rely entirely on you.”
Snow nodded, chastised and warned. He supposed Contegons and Brawlers with weapons not precise enough to strike a Lion in the eye, or that couldn't generate sufficient power to smash their thick skulls, were at a disadvantage until they could retrain. Piety should team the Contegons who could fight the Lions with those who couldn't, ensure a decent spread, with weapons like swords still best for fighting Disciples.
“Shall we go?” Element asked. “The trail gets colder every minute.”
Snow's stomach growled in response. “I'll have to grab some food first. We'll eat on the way.”
“Are we walking, then?”
“It's more subtle than flying, wouldn't you say?”
Element tutted. “I was looking forward to flying.”
“If we succeed,” Snow said, “I'll fly you home afterwards.”
“Sounds like a deal.”
A panicked Farmer put together a selection of fruit for them, fearing a rebuke if he provided a sub-par breakfast to a Contegon and the Shield-General. Snow worked through the berries and apples on their way to the forest, finishing as they passed under the forest's thick skin like needles.
“The Lions came in from over there,” she said, pointing to the west. “Do you see where they broke the branches, and where they knocked aside the fallen tree?”
He followed her gaze. “And you know that these weren't made by Shields?”
“Shields don't run so fast that they make tree trunks roll twice when they vault them.”
“Sorry, I'm not questioning you: I'm just interested in learning.”
“Okay,” she said, “but we must be quiet. Giving away our position is never a brilliant idea.”
Element followed the path they cut through the forest, Snow at her heel. He considered his
friend as a Contegon, a powerful representative of Sol. Seeing her track, weapons on her arms, forced the idea home that she was a brilliant Contegon, just as he’d always hoped.
They followed the Lions' path until it met a Disciple Road. Snow had seen these on fly-overs, but had never stood on one, seen the earth where nothing would grow up close. They were so straight, such perfect rectangles, that it hurt to see them.
Element looked almost dazed too as she tried to pick up the Lions' days old trail. It was possible the Lions had used the Disciple Roads all the way from wherever they were created, which he imagined made them impossible to track. That was likely the true purpose of the Disciple Roads: providing a flat surface which would not hold footprints, hiding their secrets to ensure their defences could not be traced.
Element gasped, a tiny note of triumph, and jogged to a tree with deep claw wounds. Its sap still wept from the damage done to it. Element ran her fingers across it, tested its viscosity by separating her fingers.
“Something clawed at this tree days ago,” she said. “Multiple somethings. They used this tree to... I don’t know, sharpen their claws.”
“Did they use the Road then?”
“No, they walked through this patch of forest.” She wiped her hand on her robes. “Do you see their prints ahead? They went in single file, as far as I can tell. We are lucky it has not rained since they attacked us, else we’d have lost their tracks.”
“Praise Sol,” Snow said.
They followed this new trail until it met another Disciple Road. The Lions had travelled along this plain, featureless expanse, so Snow and Element searched the western side of the Road for another point of ingress. None came by the time they reached a junction, which only presented another fork.
“Given where Moenian is, I'd say they came from somewhere more north than west,” Element guessed, “so we should try and pick up their trail there.”
“You're in charge,” Snow said. “I'll follow where you recommend.”
After two more junctions, Element began to wriggle her fingers nervously. Biting her lip, she scanned the woodland. No clues were forthcoming. Either the Lions had stuck to the roads, or they had not used them.
The third junction provided a clue and validation: a patch of the Road had been disturbed by clawed paws, and a handful of melted scales were scattered across the ground. Element knelt beside the strange sight, rubbing her gloved hand slowly along the floor.
“What happened here?” Snow asked.
“These Lions must still be feral,” Element supposed. “This looks like a challenge, a struggle for dominance. One Lion was much bigger than the others, so perhaps it fought to maintain control of the pack? It might not be the same ones which attacked us...” She stood and looked around. “There, do you see their trail?”
Element pointed to breakages in a tall grass known as Brittlegrass. The patch of forest had fewer trees than the others, allowing this strange, weak flora to flourish. That is, until growth had been ended, its stalks snapped, by something large barreling through.
“I see it,” Snow said.
They had been going for about two and a half hours by this point, but the excitement of finding some Lions' path kept them energised. The Brittlegrass snapped quietly as they walked after the trail, a constant crunching which gave away their position, but they had no choice.
The path dipped into a basin, at the bottom of which was a patch of raw earth with a glinting square at its centre, a dazzling light amidst the dull brown. Snow and Element shared a look: this was what they had come out for. Sigil appeared over Snow’s shoulder, interested in his quiet way.
The three of them crackled down to the glinting shape. The twelve-foot square of dull metal only shone because it was a glorious day. A thick rim framed its edge, and there was a cut down the centre. Kneeling, Snow saw the metal continued past the rim. It was warm to the touch, and it vibrated slightly.
“You know,” Element said, “that looks an awful lot like a door.”
“Do you think we've found where the Lions came from?”
“More than that,” Snow said, standing, “I think we've found another Disciple secret: they have homes beneath Geos.”
Element took a deep breath, looked away. “Great. Fucking.... just fucking great. So the Disciples could just be burying under us, bypassing our Fronts?”
“It's possible,” Snow conceded, feeling a little ill. “Let's find out.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn't think we'd come all this way and not go inside, did you?”
Element opened her mouth to respond, and then shook her head. “No, I suppose not. You're leading the way, I assume?”
Snow reached out and forced a thin wedge of Sigil’s energy between the slices of metal, pulled the doors apart. They didn't want to move, were locked in some way, but couldn’t withstand the force Snow brought to bear. There was a horrible grinding, screaming, then the doors fired open. Six feet beneath them was a balcony surrounded by handrails with a podium with black circles on its flat surface growing from it.
“What is that?” Element asked.
“Let's find out.”
Snow jumped down. As Element descended, he examined the plinth: the black circles were marked with crude arrows: one pointing up, another pointing down. It wasn't a difficult puzzle.
“This is a moving platform,” Snow said. “This button will probably make us descend.”
“It'll also alert anything below that we're coming,” Element pointed out.
“We'd best be ready for a fight, then.”
Snow pressed the downward arrow. Something inside the plinth clicked. The balcony rumbled before lowering them. The doors closed as they slowly fell, plunging them into darkness and locking them into this course of action.