The Toll (Arc of a Scythe) - Neal Shusterman Page 0,118

took out the firehouse, and another the peace officers’ precinct, their curate led the largest team to the palace. They all had weapons – the kind that common citizens weren’t supposed to have. They had been given them by an unknown benefactor. A secret supporter of their cause. The Tonists were not trained in these weapons, but what did that matter? Swing the blade, pull the trigger, hurl the grenade, and press the detonator. With so many of them armed, they didn’t need to be all that skilled to achieve their goal.

And they also had kerosene. Jugs and jugs of it.

The Tonist made sure she was part of the first wave. She was frightened, but also joyous for her part in this. Now was their time! In the wake of the Mile High gleaning, when ire against scythes was at a full boil, people would finally see the Tonist way! They would cheer for what would be done here today, and the SubSaharan region would be a klaxon calling out to the rest of the world, waking them into the glory of the Tone, Toll, and Thunder. All rejoice!

She opened her mouth to intone as she neared the palace, and others joined her. It was so satisfying to be the one who started them intoning. They were of one mind, one spirit, one chord.

Then, climbing on the backs of her brethren, she and dozens of others began to scale the palace wall.

vi. Agnus Dei

Anastasia and Jeri, with Scythes Makeda and Baba close behind, finally met up with Tenkamenin in the rose garden, halfway between the palace and his cottage. His valet was struggling with a large rolling suitcase that wouldn’t roll on the pebbles of the narrow garden path.

“We’ve called for the helicopter,” Scythe Makeda informed everyone. “But it will take at least ten minutes to get here from the airport.”

“And that’s only if the pilot isn’t off in some bar,” Baba added, “like he was the last time.”

“It will be fine,” Tenkamenin said, a bit out of breath. “It will come for us, and everything will be fine.”

Then he turned to lead everyone to the heliport, which was on the property’s west lawn. Around them the entire compound was in motion. Palace staff hurried, going this way and that, their arms full of belongings. The BladeGuard were flooding out of the barracks and taking strategic positions – something they had probably done only in exercises.

And then they heard a noise from the west. A chorus of droning voices, each one hitting a different discordant monotone. And figures began dropping over the western wall.

“We’re too late,” said Tenkamenin, halting them in their tracks.

Alarms began to blare all around them, and the BladeGuards took immediate action, firing on the invading force, adding the sound of gunfire to the cacophony. Tonists fell left and right, but for every one the guards took down, two more scaled the wall. It wouldn’t be long before the guards were overwhelmed.

These Sibilants were armed with more than rocks, and they used their weapons against the guards with such brutality it was shocking. Where the hell did they get those kinds of weapons? Didn’t Tonism espouse inner peace and stoic acceptance?

“That which comes can’t be avoided,” Anastasia mumbled. It was the Tonists’ favorite mantra. It suddenly took on a terrible new meaning.

The heavy south gate was blown off its hinges by an explosion, and, as the gates fell, a mob of Tonists pushed through. They cut through the line of BladeGuards in seconds and began throwing what looked like bottles of alcohol with burning rags shoved in them. Fire broke out everywhere the bottles crashed.

“They mean to burn us so we can’t be revived!” said Baba, near panic. “Just like Scythe Lucifer did!”

Anastasia wanted to snap at Baba for even mentioning Rowan in the same breath as this twisted sect of Tonists, but she stopped herself.

As the battle spilled onto the heliport ahead of them, Tenkamenin had them change direction. “The east patio!” he said. “There’s more than enough space for the helicopter to land there! Come!”

They doubled back, crossing through the rose garden, getting scraped, scratched, and poked by thorns on the way – but even before they reached the east patio, they could see that this end of the compound had also been breached. Tonists were everywhere, attacking people running out of the staff house, chasing them down, and rendering them mercilessly deadish.

“Why are they attacking the palace staff?” said Anastasia. “What possible reason could