In Harmony We Trust by Ryan Matthew Harker (chromebook ebook reader .TXT) 📕

better mind for it than mine but let me tell you that if you and she were meant to die than neither one of you would have survived that day in the royal gardens and you sure as hell wouldn’t have survived that day in the clearing. Do you hear me?” and he shook the younger man a little. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Candlelite’s chin had fallen to his chest during Jeshux little speech and his eyes were fixed on the floor but he understood and he lifted his head to lock his gaze with the mercenary’s. “So what do we do?” he asked.
“Good man,” Jeshux said and gripped both of Candlelite’s shoulders. “First we search the room.”
No sooner had this been said and Max called from across the suite, “Hey! I think you two should look at this.”
The old scientist was standing in front of the painting that Candlelite had been studying when the apprentice had bowled him over. Max had his legs spread and his hands clasped behind his back. He was looking over his shoulder at the other two men as they approached.
“What have you got scientist?” Jeshux asked.
“I’m not sure, soldier,” Max turned to Candlelite. “My boy, weren’t you looking at this painting when you were so rudely pushed aside?”
“Yes,” Candlelite answered.
“Is there anything different about it?”
Candlelite squinted at the painting and then pushed Max aside to look at it closer. It was not large but of a medium size. It was in a plain wooden frame about five feet tall by three feet wide and it was hung about six and a half feet off the ground. Candlelite peered at it closely. He could tell that there was something different about it but he could not quite put his finger on it. The painting itself was nothing special. Almost as plain as the frame that held it, it depicted a room of outlandish proportions and unnatural geometry. Earlier when he had been looking at it he had been trying to decide why the strange room had looked so familiar.
“It’s a painting of the suite!” he exclaimed suddenly.
“Yes,” Max said. “Yes it is.”
“But that’s not what’s different,” Candlelite mused and peered at it closer. “Holy shit there’s a person in there, a woman!” He turned to Max and said, “She wasn’t in there before.”
“Precisely my boy, precisely,” Max smiled. “And that’s not just any woman, it’s Absinthe.”


Sefu Atarle sat bound and gagged on the floor in the corner of the guard house. She watched the men who were assigned to watch her through half slit eyes. Although it had been almost an hour since the Commander General had left them to go with the others into the Citadel neither man had moved or said a word. The assassin could not help but acknowledge that these men were extremely well disciplined soldiers. In the weeks following her capture she had been under constant surveillance, even during the most intimate of moments, much to her chagrin, and her guards scarcely even blinked.
After an hour had passed her guards suddenly became distracted by a sound from outside. Still without saying a word the two mercs looked at each other, one guard made a slight gesture, the other nodded imperceptibly and ducked out the door with his rifle ready. Not three minutes later there was the distinct sound of a rifle being discharged followed by a short scream and then silence.
Looking nervous the lone guard glanced at her and Sefu could see the indecision in his eyes. Shouldering his rifle he seemed to make up his mind as he said, “You better not move!” and then turned and also ducked out the door.
Ah ha! she thought. Finally, now’s my chance. And without wasting any time she clicked the heel of her right boot against the ground which caused a small blade to spring from the toe. Since her hands were bound behind her back she had to bend her legs and turn her feet at an awkward angle to maneuver the blade into position. Then, with her ankles almost breaking and her shoulders straining in their sockets, she just barely was able to saw through her restraints. Once her hands were free she untied her feet and removed the gag from her mouth. She re-concealed the blade in her boot and rubbed some circulation back into her hands before moving to the door. Cautiously she took a look outside.
The area in front of the Citadel remained as deserted as it was when she arrived and just as silent. Now that she was free Sefu contemplated making a clean getaway but almost as soon as the thought entered her head she banished it. No, instead she turned and headed through the gates, into the Citadel and towards where the sounds that had drawn her guardians had come from. She headed down the main thoroughfare and it did not take long before Sefu came upon the mangled remains of a mercenary. The soldier had been torn into so many pieces that if it had not been for been for a scuff on one of his boots she would never have recognized him. Close by was his rifle. She slung the weapon over her shoulder and then went about the distasteful task of searching the bloody remnants. She found a couple grenades, a pistol, and two knives- one combat/survival, the other a well balanced throwing knife. She also discovered a small pile of drying vomit, presumably from the man’s comrade. Ha, she thought. Nice to know these mercenaries weren’t perfectly disciplined!
The way Sefu was thinking Jeshux could not help but be curious about the state of affairs in Gontiluna and would probably head straight to the guild hall to look for answers. Her intentions were to follow that assumption and lay a trap for her ex-capturers. As she prepared to leave the bloodspot that used to be a mercenary she heard cries of rage followed by rifle fire followed by cries of pain, then the eerie silence set back in. The sounds had come from the direction she was headed in and setting the rifle to her shoulder she set off at a brisk trot for the guild hall.


“I couldn’t believe my eyes at first,” Max said. “But if being here and being involved in all this has taught me anything, it’s taught me to be open minded.”
“But how did she get inside a painting?” Candlelite stressed.
“Magic,” Max said a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Because she couldn’t help touching things,” Jeshux said angrily. “Despite my warnings!”
“Come on Jeshux,” Candlelite spoke up. “What were you just telling me? We have to find a way to get her out.”
“Damnit, this is the last thing we need!” Jeshux complained. It was not something the mercenary made a habit of but the stress of the last hour was pushing him to it. “We’ve got a deserted city; I’ve got a man dead along with perhaps Gontiluna’s last survivor, now a woman trapped in a painting, and no answers to any of it!” He spun on heel. “Tanner! Get your ass over here!”
The bloody soldier had managed to clean himself up but he still looked a mess. “Yes, sir?”
“Tanner, what happened out there?” Jeshux pointed at the door.
“It was terrible, sir. One moment we’re chasing that apprentice, he went around the corner and immediately starts screaming. We rounded the corner, barely having time to shoulder our rifles, and the poor bastard was being ripped apart.”
“Ripped apart by what?” Jeshux asked.
“People sir, looked like mages.”
“Mages!” Jeshux was incredulous.
“I know how it sounds but sir, they were wearing the robes. Something was wrong with them though. They were fast and strong. Our rifles didn’t stop them and sir,” a haunted expression came into Tanner’s eyes. “They were eating the apprentice.”
“Finish your report, soldier,” Jeshux ordered not without sympathy.
“Well sir, we started firing and as I said our rifles wouldn’t stop them. They overpowered Hunter and ripped out his throat. I kept firing and finally they turned tail and went through the window. I bent to assist Hunter and then you were there. That’s all,” the mercenary finished his narrative and went silent.
Absinthe was temporarily forgotten as Candlelite listened intently. When the soldier was done he said one word, “Zombies.”
“What?” Jeshux asked.
“It sounds like they were zombies,” Candlelite told him.
“And what are zombies?” Jeshux persisted.
“You don’t know what zombies are?” This time it was Candlelite’s turn to be incredulous.
When Jeshux shook his head Max cleared his throat and clarified, “Zombies are old mythical Earth monsters. They are usually people, but sometimes animals, who come back from the dead and almost invariably consume human flesh. Notoriously hard to kill but usually just as notorious for being incredibly slow. I’ve never heard of a fast zombie.” The old man pushed his glasses up on his nose.
Disgust had replaced confusion on his face and Jeshux growled vehemently, “Necromancy!”
“Necromancy?” Candlelite echoed.
“The magical art of bringing the dead back to life,” Jeshux explained. “But it’s been illegal to be a necromancer for over four hundred years. King Zakeriah’s predecessor reinstated the law after a fifty year lapse. It’s said that he always thought the worst thing he ever did was allow necromancers to start practicing again.”
“All right,” Candlelite said suddenly switching gear. “All well and good, one mystery solved, now what about Absinthe?”
“Sorry Candlelite,” Jeshux sighed. “I got carried away but I told you she would be fine and she is.”
“How can you…?”
Jeshux cut him off by holding one hand in the air, “Hold on! Now listen to me. Things like this painting aren’t dangerous. In fact they’re pretty common.” He turned to the scientist, “Max, you of all of us can probably understand the principles of this type of painting.”
Max smiled and said, “Let me guess, quantum spacing?”
Jeshux shrugged, “Whatever you call it.”
Max turned at Candlelite’s dumbfounded expression, “It’s a portal into a parallel universe.” He looked at Jeshux. “A pocket dimension, presumably.”
“It’s entirely self-contained, if that’s what you mean. There is no door into a hallway from that room. Its exit leads here,” Jeshux gestured expansively to the space around them.
Realization dawned and Candlelite said, “Ah, through the looking glass.”
“What?” Jeshux asked.
“Alice in Wonderland,” Max explained.
Before the scientist could begin another lecture Jeshux waved him silent. “Oh. Never mind then. But what’s strange though is that Absinthe should be able to cross back through on her own. Since she hasn’t yet I’d say it’s safe to assume that there’s a lock.” His eyes narrowed and he looked around as he talked. “Generally the lock would be placed on this side to keep people out.” Seeming not to find what he was looking for he walked over to the bed. He grabbed some sheets and began to tear them into shreds. Ignoring the glance the other men exchanged he began to knot the strips together, continuing to explain as he did so. “But since Absinthe got in and obviously can’t get back out again, this painting must be locked to keep something in.”
“What?” Candlelite asked.
“I don’t know,” Jeshux answered as he held up his improvised rope. “Let’s find out.”
“Tanner! Take this!” Jeshux yelled behind him and held out one end of the rope. Tanner grabbed it from him and Jeshux began to knot the other end around his waist. “I need you to be my anchor over here. Understand? No matter what don’t let go.” At the man’s nod of assent Jeshux turned back to Max and Candlelite. “The door’s locked and we don’t have a key, so we’re going to have to pick it.
“The rope?” Max asked.
“The rope,”