We enter the portion of the tunnel that runs under the prison in about ten minutes. Several Morrigan pass us as we go, but don’t stop us as they believe we’re on patrol. I catch my breath as one asks Braxton if he’s seen any more disturbances, but Braxton answers no and the other man leaves down another hallway.
We continue our way past the prison, still heading north. The tunnel divides into three branches and we take the path on the far left, as Lehen instructed. It curves in accordance with the circular structure of the chapel above. We enter into an anteroom that has a set of stone steps leading up to the surface, along with a door on our right. We try the door, but it’s locked. Braxton uses his shoulder against the door, and after some effort, the door finally gives way.
Braxton closes the door behind us and we proceed with caution down the narrow hall. I remove my gun from its holster, side-stepping my way through the dim light of the flickering sconces on the walls. Faint music begins to permeate the air, a haunting melody that grows louder the closer we get to its source. A wooden door stands slightly ajar at the end of the hall, bright light pulsating through the opening. The music is now almost deafening.
We peek through and see the doctor hunched over his workstation, hands floating in the air as if he were conducting the music himself. The room is a small round chamber. Flasks line most of the shelves along the wall on my right; chemicals perfuming the air. I spot the clay pots that had been used to collect my blood sitting empty on a table against the far wall. I draw my gun as we approach, removing my mask for better visibility. Braxton on my left draws his as well, but leaves his mask on.
The doctor begins to pour a clear liquid from one large beaker into smaller vials. Braxton and I remain standing behind him, not saying a word until he’s finished.
“How does that work?” I ask once I’m sure he won’t drop the vial.
He turns around on his stool, face pale with fright.
“One shout from me and security will be here in moments,” he stammers.
“Not with that racket playing,” Braxton says with a smirk.
“It’s not racket, it’s a classic,” the doctor hisses, sounding offended. “Beethoven’s Symphony Number Seven is not a racket.”
My memory drifts back to my time at the Dormitories. I remember myself as a toddler watching war films with this song playing in the background. Then I realize where I know this man from.
“Dr. Baccus.”
“Hello Trea…I was wondering when you would remember me. Music has a profound impact on the memory. It can help us recall the minutest details,” he begins, climbing down from his stool and walking over to the device that is blasting the noise. “Obviously you remember this from battle conditioning.” He goes to turn down the music, but Braxton points his weapon, stopping him.
“Why would you help someone like Parson Mathan?”
“Why? Because I’m a Nuceiran.” He rolls up the sleeve on his right arm, revealing the light tattoo of the city’s emblem that all Nuceirans have. “Why wouldn’t I help him?”
“Did Lehen ever recognize you?”
“No, I kept my face out of his view.”
“What about Quin?”
“Quintus and I were saved together. He came back to Nuceira with me.”
“Where you twisted his mind?”
“If you think that. But we just opened him up to the concept of redemption. That if he served Parson Mathan he could be forgiven for the sins of his makers.”
“You tortured him?” Braxton asks, moving closer to the table with the vials. “He was only a child.”
“He had to be cleansed, cleansed of the evil within him.”
“And that’s when the Parson discovered the Antaeans’ healing ability?” I ask, as I place my gun back into its holster.
“Yes.”
“So you had kept that part secret from the Parson after his Morrigan rescued you?”
“I never believed it would actually work, so I was just as shocked as he was when Quintus healed from his wounds.”
“Where is Quin now?”
“He’s probably in his room at the estate.”
Braxton takes the vials and their matching syringes from the table, and pockets them. I remove my knife and approach Dr. Baccus, who pales as I draw near.
“You kill me and you’ll never know the truth about the Antaeans,” he stutters.
“Sorry, Dr. Baccus, I’ve had all the truth I can handle.”
I grab him by the shoulders, spin him around, and slice his throat.
Chapter 23
Jagger is barely breathing when we return. Rey fits a vial into one of the syringes and injects the fluid into Jagger’s bicep. His respirations stop immediately. His body goes into one final seizure before relaxing. I look over at Lehen, but he tells me to wait. Minutes seem to pass slowly, but Jagger remains still, no rising in his chest. As I continue to wait for him to start breathing again, I notice the deep gash above his right eye begin to heal.
“Look,” I say, pointing to his face.
Jagger gasps once. His injuries heal as his breathing begins again, shallow at first then much stronger. After a few minutes, his eyes flutter open.
“What happened?” he asks, voice cracking slightly.
“You got a little banged up, but you’re fine now,” Rey
