Genevieve Renee's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Sledge lifted a stone block toward the broken wall. Halfway up, his arm locked. The block dropped and cracked the tile. He stood frozen, one eye flickering amber, joints grinding like gravel in a pipe. "Sledge?" Genevieve reached for him. His shoulder was hot under her hand. "Joint's dry," he said. "Salvaged cable. No lubricant left. It seizes under load." He forced the arm down, slow and stiff. "I can't fortify the wall like this." Genevieve looked at the gap in the stone, still open to the street. Without his strength, the sealing stopped. And an unsealed wall meant the Dragon could break in. She had no oil, no parts, no way to keep him running. The hidden door scraped inward. Genevieve grabbed her cross and stepped between Sledge and the opening. A huge man ducked through, leather vest over tattooed arms, red hair spiked stiff. She had seen that vest before, on the scouts who patrolled the front. A raider. One of the Dragon. He raised both hands, empty. A small brass cross hung at his throat. "Don't run. I'm not here for you." His voice was low and quick. "I've watched you two working. I'm on your side." "You wear their leather," Genevieve said. Her grip on the cross tightened. "I do. For now." He touched the brass cross. "Viktor. I've hidden this under my shirt for two years. I want out." He set a metal can on the tile and slid it toward Sledge with his boot. "Machine oil. From their motor pool. Won't be missed for a day." Sledge's eye tracked the can. "Why bring it to me." "Because you're the only thing here that can lift a wall," Viktor said. "And I can't seal this church alone." Genevieve did not lower the cross. But she picked up the can, unscrewed the cap, and smelled it. Oil. She knelt at Sledge's seized shoulder and found the joint seam. "Pour it in the gap," Sledge said. "Work the arm." She tipped the can. Oil ran into the joint. Sledge bent his elbow, once, twice. The grinding faded to a smooth hum. He flexed his fist and the amber eye steadied. He lifted the cracked block one-handed and pressed it into the wall gap. "It holds," he said. Genevieve breathed out. "Thank you." She looked at Viktor, still unsure, but the wall was closing. Viktor moved to the door and stopped. "One more thing." He pointed at the plant near the pews, the one with the single white bell bloom. "That flower. Boil the leaves, soak a rag. The scouts breathe it and they sleep. I've used it to slip past night watch." He glanced up the street through the gap. "You'll need it. They rotate the patrol at dark, and the new man counts heads at every door." He slipped out. The stone scraped shut. Sledge fit another block. The wall grew. But now Genevieve knew the Dragon would count doors tonight, and one of theirs was hidden behind stone.