by Adam D Jones
Republic soldiers were scrambling, closing up the wagons and rushing everyone inside.
“They’re retreating?”
Amelia nodded. “It’s lucky the Sovereign wanted to approach in wagons. They cannot repel the Corsair sandships.”
“Did anyone down there...get hurt?”
“I don’t think so. Marshal pleaded until we heard the cannons. Then everyone ran inside.”
“Everyone but you.”
Amelia pointed to an outcropping of rock. “The Lodi haven’t many weapons, but I found two pistols in their armory. I noticed the fire, so I poured two canteens on myself before running in here.”
“Thank you, Amelia.”
“Marshal ordered me to—”
“But you didn’t have to. Not anymore, and I...” Raine noticed the Corsair sandships heading their way, but their flight didn’t look right. “Amelia, is something wrong with those ships?”
“Hmm?” She turned her bright green eyes toward the approaching sandships. “They seem to be moving slowly.”
“And the one in back is wobbling a little.”
The Republic caravan was already on the move, whipping at the horses while firing shots to keep anyone away. In a few moments, the dark desert swallowed up their horses and wagons, hiding the Sovereign once again.
“We won’t be able to track them,” said Amelia. “Otherwise...I might follow them.”
She’s pissed.
Raine studied her face. She was under control now, like a well-balanced machine. But he remembered when she had been a wild-eyed manic as she battled the Sovereign, and Raine suddenly remembered her words. She had yelled at the Sovereign, screaming over the noise of battle and the sounds of the room falling apart: Who did this to me? she had shouted. Who put this thing in my head?
◆◆◆
After the Republic vanished into the night, Raine and Amelia climbed down, carefully working their way down the thick stones. They joined the gathering crowd who silently watched the Bookhouse burn. It sent a plume of smoke into the night sky, obscuring the stars, while a pulsing glow of fire lit the ash-darkened windows.
The lead Corsairs’ ships joined the scene, predicted by the clamor of its engines. Gears ground and screeched, and Dawn grimaced hard when a loud clang signaled the ship’s full stop.
The stairs were lowered, and a stocky, short man climbed down. Raine thought there was something odd about his movements, and when he drew near Raine saw why: the man’s left arm ended at the elbow, replaced by a prosthetic. A spearpoint with a barbed hook emerged from his sleeve, like the end of a small harpoon.
“Name’s Balen. Cap’n Balen.” He doffed his brown hat, hung it on his hooked hand, and then absently used it to gesture toward the metal ship. “’Fraid we’re out of fuel, but we got here as fast as...”
He stopped talking when he saw Raine.
“You...” He approached Raine with a wary stare, waving a finger in his direction. “You must be the boy who’s Gifted.”
30
“Impossible!” Hild insisted.
She’ll never believe. Even if she hears it from a man with a harpoon for a hand who just drove off the Sovereign, apparently.
The other two sandships arrived, and Dawn had to hold her head while the loud engines rattled their way into The Dunes.
The man who called himself Captain Balen still stared at Raine, undeterred by Hild’s protest. His words had silenced The Dunes, had managed to distract every Lodi from the burning Bookhouse, the Sovereign, and the sight of the Republic tucking tail and hiding in the night.
A woman joined Balen, wearing a yellow headscarf and wide earrings that flashed starlight. “All ships reporting in. Not sure if all three will start up again, though.”
Balen ignored her words. “Isabel here’ll tell you the same thing.” He finally tore his gaze away from Raine and turned to Hild. “She saw the storm he raised with that stone in his hand. We picked up the pieces.”
“You saw that?” said Raine.
“Our ship was broke down, a wheel away from you,” said Balen, “but we were keeping tabs on those Republic rats. Ended up following their trail here.”
Hild glared at Raine. “You didn’t tell us about this.”
“I’ve been telling people for years,” said Raine, slowly, keeping his calm. “No one believed me.”
“But this is different!” she said. “Actually using a stone, and—”
“Oh, you wouldn’t have believed it, and you know it,” interrupted Marshal. “I was standing there, and I hardly believe it myself.”
“This is a waste of time.” Isabel looked to Raine. “Just show them.”
“If that were possible, I would have done that when I arrived,” said Raine.
“It’s a long story,” said Marshal. “But I think it’s time we told it. When we—”
“Wait,” said Raine. “There’s more. More than you know, Marshal.” Raine thought over what the Sovereign had done in the Bookhouse. “Amelia and I saw something...the Sovereign was in the Bookhouse, and...” He shook his head. “No, it’s wrong.” He looked to Hild. “Aquillo’s dead. The Sovereign killed him. It doesn’t feel right not to think about that. I know it sounds like I’m wasting time—”
“I insist,” said Hild, softening her voice. “We lost one of our own. I will lead us in mourning, then, Raine, you can tell us about the Sovereign.”
◆◆◆
“He did what?” Marshal’s brow gathered thick lines. “That can’t be. It’s a trick. I’ve seen street performers who can breathe fire.”
Marshal wasn’t the only person in the conversation having a hard time with Raine’s story. All around the main room of the longhouse, Raine saw puzzled faces. Mostly, he thought they were reeling from the eventful night. Raine was heaping fantastic stories on top of their already weary minds.
His own mind couldn’t stop thinking of Aquillo. During the memorial, where the Lodi stood in circle recalling the old chants and sharing stories of the deceased, Raine had avoided telling them about Aquillo’s deception. All they needed to know was that one of their own had died battling the Sovereign.
“It’s true.” Amelia leaned back against a wall. She hadn’t supplied any details for Raine’s story until now. “The Sovereign drank from the vial, first, then simply…breathed fire.”
“The heat never bothered him,” said Raine. “He only left when he thought the ceiling might collapse.”
“He should be, what, over seventy?” asked Marshal.
“It just can’t be,” said Hild. She looked at Dawn. “What does your scientist have to say about it?”
Raine hadn’t noticed Dawn until now. She sat in the corner, facing a wall, and was using a piece of charcoal to draw on the floor, equations and lines and tiny symbols that meant nothing to Raine. She drew algorithms on top of one another, connecting them in dizzying patterns only she could understand.
“Strong,” Dawn whispered. “Strong. Too strong for a seventy-year-old man. It’s like he’s not—” Her face shot up and she stared at the ceiling for a moment. “No.” She scratched out a few numbers and kept scribbling.
Hild watcher her for a few moments and then shook her head before turning to address the room. “Nothing’s changed. We have to evacuate The Dunes. We’ll find a caravan first, and then head to the far shore.”
“No one’s ever been there,” mumbled Raine. “You don’t even know if you’ll get halfway.”
“Then maybe this trip isn’t for you.”
It’s just for the Lodi, he mentally finished.
Dawn’s scratching grew louder. She was pressing the pencil down hard enough to make deep lines in the wood, wearing down the charcoal at a rate Raine could almost see. She muttered to herself, just barely a whisper.
“What are you saying, Dawn?” Raine crept closer. Her hands moved in a blur, etching illegible, erratic lines. “Dawn, what is it?”
He leaned down and heard her repeating a handful of words, a ma
d litany. Putting his ear close, he could hear the whisper.
“Skin...flesh...bones...teeth...skin...flesh...bones...teeth...” she recited.
“What do you need to tell us?” he asked. “Dawn, should we—” He put his hand on her shoulder.
“SKINFLESHBONESTEETH!”
Raine flinched. “What does that—”
“I made him!” She stood, throwing off his hand. “It was me, Raine. It was me!” She turned and gripped his Keeper robes. “I made him!”
She collapsed into a heap on the floor. Raine reached out, but Marshal grabbed his hand and shook his head.
Marshal knelt next to her, keeping close without touching her. “It’s alright,” he whispered. “You didn’t do this. I know that. You’re too young to have started the Republic’s problems. Now just tell us.”
“The skin,” she said. Her bloodshot eyes stared at the wall. “The flesh. The bones. The teeth. It’s all for him. I was...we were...Marshal, isn’t it obvious?”
Marshal shook his head. “I’m not as smart as you, darling.”
Dawn wiped her eye. “I did it.” She paused to steady her voice. “We kept testing chemicals on things. Dead bodies. People who, we were told, were donating themselves to the Republic when they passed away. We kept testing every combination. I...” She laughed. “I thought we were just making a catalog! I’m so stupid.”
“It’s alright,” Marshal repeated. He looked around the room with a grimace. “No one’s mad at you. I swear, you young folks think you’re responsible for everything and you’ve only just started living. You didn’t know, Dawn.”
“I should have. I should have. But I was keeping my head down. Not thinking. Just working.” She rocked herself back and forth while Marshal stayed near. “It’s Dae water. That’s what he drank. Some recipe with Dae water.”
“That’s toxic,” said Marshal. “No one can drink it. You told me that.”
“I think...” Dawn looked up and blinked a few times. “Maybe a tolerance can be built up. It would take…decades? I don’t know. It’s possible that we made chemicals that could turn his body into...what Raine and Amelia saw. But...it wouldn’t be safe.”
“Maybe it drove him mad,” said Marshal. “Then again, sounds like he was crazy already.”
Raine felt weariness in his arms and legs and his brain struggled to grasp all of it. Somewhere in Gamon, research facilities were learning to make people better, making the Sovereign into something impossible, into the most powerful person in Telarine.
Hild tapped the table loudly. “This still doesn’t change anything. We need a caravan, and we need to get word to every Lodi settlements and have them head east with us. Captain Balen, can the Corsairs get the word out?”
“With three sandships?” exclaimed Isabel. “Those ships are out of fuel now that we’ve gone this far out. And in case my captain didn’t tell you, we used the last of our cannonballs helping you. By the time we got close, we were firing the canons empty just to scare ‘em.”
“You’re not out of fuel,” said Dawn. “Your engines are just terrible and barely work.”
“Maybe one ship could find a caravan,” said Hild, “while the other two visit the Lodi settlements and try to help them. The Republic’s on the move!” She pointed to Amelia. “If that thing is telling the truth, Republic soldiers are crawling all over the desert!”
“The Corsairs will be outgunned,” said Marshal. “Sovereign’s men will rip ‘em to pieces.”
“He’s right,” said Isabel. “We never win these things.”
Balen explained that his volunteer soldiers knew how to evacuate cities and slow down Republic movements to help the Lodi, and other independent settlements on the frontier, but weren’t able to fight the Lodi’s battles.
“Been fighting against them for more ‘an thirty years,” said Balen, “And we’ve hardly got a single victory to show for it. We aren’t gonna fight the Republic for you, especially with only three ships.”
They can’t cover the whole continent. Wait... Raine tired mind awoke with an idea, or the start of one. An inkling, alighting his thoughts. He gazed at the map. Hadn’t Amelia said that the Republic’s forces—all of them—were spread across the desert, obsessively searching for Lodi? If there really are ships and soldiers all over the continent...
Hild fumed. “You’re saying we don’t have a chance? Just let the Republic have their way with the frontier?”
“We’re the only people out here trying to do anything about!” Balen raised his prosthetic. “And it’s cost us plenty! Now after you won’t even say a ‘thank you,’ we’re s’posed to cover the whole desert because you can’t—”
“Some of us can’t take the easy way out.” Hild stood and pointed across the table. “We can’t afford to cut our losses—”
“We just need to go to Gamon,” said Raine.
Hild's arm hung awkwardly in the air, her gesture interrupted. “I’m sorry?”
Raine looked her in the eye. “I’m sure you heard me. You can leave. You can all leave. But I’m going to Gamon.”
“The Sovereign’s too strong, son,” said Captain Balen. “We can’t fight him.”
“You can’t,” said Raine, “but I can.”
He believed it. An hour ago, Raine would have thought he sounded silly making such a boast, but right now he knew every word of it was true.
“I’ve seen what the Sovereign can do,” said Raine. “But he doesn’t know what I can do.”
“You want to go to Gamon?” asked Hild. “It’s swarming with the Republic’s army.”
“Actually, few remain there,” said Amelia.
Raine smiled. That’s what I was starting to suspect.
Marshal snapped his fingers. “I’ll bet he’s got every sandship and armed wagon out looking for Lodi. How many do you think are still the capital, Amelia?”
She paused, thinking. “Maybe five sandships. Possibly fewer.” Amelia’s eyes grew hard. “I’ll go with you.”
“You need a Dae stone,” insisted Hild.
“There’s four in each ship out there,” said Raine.
“We need those, son,” said Balen. “Can’t move all these folks to safety without all three ships working.”
“Hard to get them out anyway,” said Dawn. “The way you run your engines, the stones will be nearly fused to the engine cubes.”
“There have to be more, somewhere,” said Raine.
“There’s plenty. In the labs.” Dawn got up from her place on the floor and looked at the map. “Dozens. Just have to get inside one of the labs in the Grey Quarter. You’d have to know your way around the city pretty well.”
Raine tapped his forehead. “I’ve got most of it memorized.”
“Think of it as a heist, not an assault,” said Marshal.
“A heist? Now someone’s speakin’ our language.” Captain Balen looked at Raine. “But what will you do once you’ve got the Dae stone?”
“I’ll be a strong as him. Maybe stronger.” Raine couldn’t stop remembering the Sovereign’s attack on Aquillo. “If I fail, everyone will still see. The people of Gamon, and the Chastened Lodi, will all see me use the Gift. They’ll know what the Sovereign is afraid of. I’m not really sure, but Gamon is the only place where we can bring the fight to them.”
Balen rubbed his chin, a crooked smile forming. “I’ve been fightin’ the Republic for decades, and tonight was the first time I ever saw them run from me. I’d like to see that again.”
They all turned their gaze to the map, considering the long trip to Gamon and the fight that surely waited for them.
“Can this really work?” asked Hild. “Running into the lion’s mouth?”
Marshal approached the map. He moved his eyes along the Divide river and finally settled his gaze on the west coast. “Most Republic folks don’t even think about the persecutions. You might think everyone in Gamon is wicked, but they’re just complacent, which is probably as bad. Since most folks just go along with wha
tever’s happening around them, let’s see what happens if we show them something else. Let’s give those complacent Republic families something new to go along with.”
Marshal looked around the room and noticed no one was arguing. He walked to a window, one that pointed westward, in the direction of Gamon, and stared at the darkened horizon. “Seems to me, the Sovereign is the man behind all this killing. I think it’s high time he and I had a talk.”
31
Erianthe.
Her eyes melted him while her long fingers caressed his chin. She complained about his stubble and teased him about the hairs being mostly grey now. Isn’t that why he shaved so religiously? He didn’t say a word in return.
Footsteps in the hall, waking him from a dream, reminded Marshal of his children running through their home, disturbing the morning light.
Marshal knew those footsteps belonged to someone stomping through the longhouse, which meant he had slept past First Light. He let the faces of his children come to mind and imagined sharing a look of amusement with Erianthe as they invaded the bedroom.
Stop it, old man.
Marshal forced himself to sit up and then rubbed his eyes. Remembering his family tended to be a bad idea—it only led him to worry. Besides, Erianthe was a survivor, and this was no time for Marshal to be a family man. Family men didn’t lead the charge, didn’t take the necessary risks; as far as Marshal was concerned, he had stopped being a family man when he leaped from that ship to join the Corsairs.
Marshal dressed quickly and strolled through the house. Loose papers and personal belongings were strewn across the floors of the empty rooms. The Lodi had only packed the essentials.
At his age, Marshal was glad to be able to stand up straight, walk all day, and feel strong when he needed to be; he tried not to feel jealous of the younger folks he could hear outside, working and talking like they weren’t even tired.
Outside, the Corsairs stood around one of their ships where a large metal piece had been removed from the hull. As he approached, Marshal could hear hammering sounds and a saw bright lantern glow from within.
