Infiltration and surveillance, on the other hand, were my two new favorite words. These creeps had ruined enough in our lives already. It was time to strike back and beat them at their own game.
Astra
Berserkers.
Punishers of the afterlife. It boggled the mind, and I had absolutely no reference for them whatsoever. What existed beyond the realm of Reapers and Death was still a mystery, one that the scythe-carriers had insisted on keeping secret. The Soul Crusher had once said that he and his kind didn’t know much about it, either—and that even if they did, they would never tell us. It simply wasn’t our business to know, or theirs to divulge.
Brandon’s presence brought up a slew of questions on top of those we’d already raised about this alt-Shade, the clones, the so-called HQ, and everything else that was wrong with this place. I wanted to find out more, of course. I also had to admit that wondering about Berserkers did take my mind off whatever horrors my mother and friends were going through. It was a rather peculiar balm for my alt-Shade-related anxieties, but I welcomed it nonetheless.
Invisible and with garnet glasses on, our backpacks fully equipped, and our pulverizer weapons loaded, we made our move and left the treehouse behind. Shortly after we left the residences, I could hear some of the clones coming back from their search, murmuring among themselves about what happened. They blamed us—“the originals”—who should’ve been dead a long time ago, according to them.
I had a hard time getting Brandon out of my head, wondering also why he’d chosen to reach out to Dafne and Jericho first instead of me. He’d shown himself to me first, more than once. Or maybe I had just spotted him before the others. Deep down, I actually enjoyed his attention, if only for a few moments. Snap out of it, Astra. There are bigger issues at hand here.
We took the less traveled paths through the woods but steered clear of the completely virgin wilderness. The latter seemed to be Haldor’s domain, and I wasn’t sure how protected we were against him, even with our invisibility magic and trace cleaners. After all, Brandon had been able to find us. He’d said the same thing. It worried me that we couldn’t find the truth of this place—no, not worried. Frustrated. We’d made some progress, sure… but it didn’t feel like it was enough.
My parents and uncles and aunts, my grandparents and great-grandparents and all their friends… their generations had dealt with troubles of their own. They’d nearly died on multiple occasions. They’d averted the end of the world itself in one form or another. And I was complaining to myself about how hard it was for us. I’d had it easy for most of my life. Everyone in our crew had had it easy compared to those who came before us.
We were fortunate enough to reach the Port without any issues. By keeping a moderate distance from the clones and by steering clear of the deepest wilderness, we’d found a middle ground of sorts for our movements. We huddled behind one of the last redwoods that overlooked the ocean, its dark blue waters rippling beneath the unseen pale glow from above. The view sent shivers down my spine as I remembered the first time we’d come through.
“Berserkers,” Thayen muttered, as if mirroring my own thoughts. “I never thought I’d live to see this day.”
“We should’ve asked if Myst was one of them,” Jericho replied.
“Maybe she isn’t. Myst belonged to the light, if you remember. Brandon and Haldor are definitely part of the same… what do we call it, species? No, not species…” Soph whispered, equally befuddled.
Beyond the trees, the Port lay quiet in the night. The lighthouse wasn’t functional. It only stood tall against the indigo sky, a silent giant made of stone and iron. The warehouses were guarded, however. “They weren’t here before,” I said, keeping my voice low.
“Security must’ve been heightened since word of our arrival spread,” Thayen replied. He pointed toward the main entrance to the underground cells. From our position, it looked like a small concrete cube with iron snakes curling out from its walls. No one had ever bothered to redesign and repurpose the cells and their entrance in the real island, and no one bothered to do it here, either. “I’m counting fifteen guards. Five vampires.”
“Two fire dragons, four Maras, and four wolves,” Jericho added, his brow furrowed. “There’s a lot of sand between us and them. They will spot our tracks unless we figure out another way to get to that entrance.”
This was one of the moments where I deeply regretted not having worked harder on my ability to teleport. Of all the gifts bestowed upon me by the blood of the Daughters, this had been the hardest to tap into. I’d never needed it before, however, and I’d often thought that there was no point in forcing something that just didn’t want to manifest. Nevertheless, my friends could’ve used my help right now… and I had nothing.
“Astra, what do you think?” Soph asked me, a hopeful glint persisting in her red eyes.
“I doubt this is a good time to try teleporting again. It didn’t work before… and I’m bad under pressure,” I replied, lowering my gaze for a moment.
Dafne gave me a gentle nudge. “It’s okay. At least we asked. It wouldn’t be fair of us to expect you to do everything for us. I mean, you’re a wondrous source of light and elemental magic, anyway. Anything more, and you’d be perfect.”
“Yeah, no one likes perfection,” Jericho chuckled.
“Except the Perfects,” Thayen shot back, and it took some effort to stop ourselves from laughing out loud. This was still enemy territory, after all.
As I looked out at the sea of sand that stretched between us and the entrance to the cells, I got a better idea. I felt a smile stretching my lips, and the others quickly noticed. “I think I have a way to get us across, but we’ll have to move fast and in a straight line. Hopefully they don’t have any red garnet eyes up in the trees to see us from above,” I murmured.
From this angle, we could dash across the sand and reach the entrance to the cells in less than twenty seconds. All we had to do was synchronize our bolt with the guards’ position. Thayen checked their movements, one finger tapping on his knee as he counted. Once we determined the guards’ patrol pattern, we were ready to move.
Soph climbed up the redwood and checked the surrounding areas. A few seconds later she came down, clearly satisfied by her survey. “I didn’t see anyone up there. The other dragons are still flying over the armory area.”
“Okay. On Thayen’s count, you start running in a straight line toward the entrance. Keep your heads down,” I said, while Thayen eyed the guards carefully. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Thayen dashed forward when he gave the signal, leading Soph, Jericho, and Dafne. The guards were wearing garnet glasses, so we had to move quickly before any of them turned and saw us. I was last, pushing energy through my hands in the form of soft barriers that glided over the sand, creating a low whirlwind effect. It managed to keep our tracks unseen, brushing them away behind me as we moved.
Finally, we reached the cement cube and flattened our backs against its southern wall just as the dragon clones turned the corner. We followed quietly and watched them go farther down the beach, while the others took the warehouses on another sweep. The entrance consisted of an iron gate with a chain and padlock keeping it shut. All Jericho had to do was grip the padlock tightly, the fire from his hand melting it into bright orange chunks that simmered into the sand.