Destroyed

by Madeline Dyer

  “It’s not silly.”

  “Isn’t it? Being scared of a cave, when I’m the powerful Seer and all that.” My chest seems to expand too much as I take a deep breath. It is silly. I don’t know why I’m reacting like this here.

  “No,” Corin says. “It just means you’re human. You may be the most powerful Seer, but you’re still one of us.”

  He takes my hand in both of his, and we take a few steps to the left. His fingers trace patterns on the back of my hand. His touch is warm.

  “Shouldn’t you be in there, with Esther?” I say, and then I feel even more silly. He needs to be with her—not me. I’m just making a huge thing out of nothing.

  He shrugs. “I can’t do anything to help her, and I wanted to make sure you’re okay. She wouldn’t want her brother hanging around.”

  That’s exactly what I think she’d want, but I press my lips together, don’t say anything. It is selfishness that’s driving me, because I want him out here with me. I don’t want to be alone. I want him here where I can see him, stare at him, drink in his features, see that he really is safe. That Raleigh didn’t kill him.

  “Do you still think the baby is Manning’s?” he asks after a moment, letting go of my hand.

  I shake my head. “Her pregnancy sped up when Three transported her. That’s got to mean something. Hasn’t it?” Or at least, I hope it does. I really do.

  “Good.” There’s something about Corin’s tone that radiates darkness. He folds his arms, then unfolds them. “She hasn’t mentioned Manning any more, has she?”

  I shake my head.

  He makes a noise deep in the back of his throat. “Has she talked about it at all—what happened?”

  “I don’t think so.” I didn’t try talking to her about it when we were in New Kitembu—not that we had much time to talk. When I body-shared with her, I was more focused on our survival, on escape.

  He exhales—for a very long time. “I don’t think she’s coping, Sev. I mean, she’s just concentrating on the baby and the here-and-now at the moment. But what about when we’ve got time to pause, to think?” He shakes his head. “I’m just glad the Zharat aren’t here.”

  I nod, because I don’t know what else to say. And when I think of Esther—of the haunted look I’ve seen in her eyes—I think he’s right.

  “Things will get better now, though,” I say.

  Corin smiles and draws me closer, his hands going around my waist, encircling me, and I rest my head against his chest. Feel the beat of his heart—feel it in a way that resonates with mine. Two heartbeats, together. Close. And holding onto him, the two of us together, there’s something about it that binds us. Our souls. I feel his, and I know he feels mine. Recognizing each other. Together.

  “How long do you think they’ll be?” I ask after a moment, don’t move my head, just stay where I am, safe in his arms. “Will they come and tell us?”

  “I guess so. Let’s look around.”

  We walk, hand-in-hand, across the uneven terrain to the right of the cave. It’s steep, leading uphill, and, after a few minutes, I break out in a sweat. With my free hand, I wipe my forehead. A fine layer of gray dust blows against us.

  “Are you scared of dying?” Corin asks.

  His question stops both of us. I turn slowly, look at him.

  “I don’t know,” I say at last. “I haven’t actually thought about it.” It’s true—I haven’t. Although I’ve known for a while I’ll die at the end of the war, it’s not something I actively think about.

  My death.

  I shudder, think of Death’s realm. That bright white place I went to after I died—before—where Death was waiting. Where I sat at the table with him, and he was so angry and disappointed in me because I was there before the war’s end.

  But, soon, I will be there, properly. The war will be over. And it will be me, solitary confinement, there. Then my pain will begin, the torture. My muscles stiffen as I think of it—and all the life, the future I won’t have. With Corin. A family? I think of the twin babies the Living Rock showed us, and I don’t know why I think of them. But I do, and I don’t feel anything. No stirrings of loss or regret or annoyance.

  There’s nothing.

  Maybe it’s because it doesn’t feel real. I press my lips together. How could it ever feel real?

  Corin looks away for a few seconds. I watch as he swallows hard so his Adam’s apple bobs. When he looks at me again, there’s a kind of broken stillness in his eyes that makes me think of sand pouring through fingers, until it’s gone.

  “There’s no way around it then?” he asks. “The augury has to be true—still?”

  “Waskabe said the augury still stands—even without him alive.” I press my lips together.

  The Seventh One, born of Light, holds the strongest Seer powers. Her side will win the War of Humanity. The rest will be destroyed, and Death will call the Seventh One back to him at the end of the war.

  He makes a deep noise in his throat.

  “I love you,” I say, reaching out for his other hand, so both our hands are joined, a circle of space between us.

  I kiss him. So simply. Just like that. As we kiss, I think about the moment—just the moment. How it’s calmer than others. A new dimension for our relationship. We’ve only been together in high-tension moments before. But now—now there’s a calmness, because we’re safe. Jana and the others will find the Stone Seers here. We’ll have a group. Safety in numbers. It will be nothing like the Zharat den, I know that.

  It’s a time for calm between Corin and me. A new way to get to know each other. My mind races. We could go on walks around here. We could lie out here, under the stars, at night. I picture it, feel the warmth inside me. Hope.

  Kissing Corin, itself, doesn’t feel different—it’s only the world that does. Kissing him feels like me and him, like us, because the kiss is the sweetest, the purest, the best. His soul and mine. Nothing else. Only us. A moment that is simply right.

  My hands reach up for his face just as we pull back, and his hands are already on mine—moved up without me noticing. We stand like this, three inches between our eyes, our hands on each other’s faces. Stand for a moment that unfurls soft petals, and glows.

  Energy lifts in the air around us, encircles us.

  The gray land dances, and I feel safe—safe in a way I didn’t expect to feel again, no matter how much I love Corin, because of Raleigh, how he stole his image. But I do feel safe.

  See, I want to say to that Sarr inside me. There would’ve been no point in telling Corin about it. It hasn’t changed anything.

  We kiss again, lips soft, gentle.

  I pull back, smiling.

  He laughs, and I laugh, match his.

  We turn.

  That’s when we see the bodies.

  My stomach twists as I stare at them. Three Untamed women, lying side by side, all wearing long, golden dresses. Two have blond hair and pale skin. The other has black hair and a tanned complexion. All three have sparkling blue eyes, like Jana’s, and their faces have been partly painted with a thick, yellow paste, and a line of red ochre slashes each of their necks. What appears to be one long string of quartz beads has been draped over all three bodies, twisting and circling around each of them.

  The women would look peaceful, if it wasn’t for the gaping wounds across their stomachs. Flies have begun settling on the raw flesh and congealed blood. My stomach twists.

  Corin swears, then he leaps forward, dust flying up as he kicks loose stones. He reaches for the nearest woman, for her neck and—

  I spring into action, join him. Sweat drips down my back. I’m shaking.

  “Is she…” I begin, but I break off—because I feel it. I know it.

  Corin turns away. I give him a moment, then head toward him, touch his shoulder gently. Neither of us says anything.

  We look up as we hear voices, turn, see Jana and Elf. Esther and Taras are just behind them, Esther looking uncomfortable and very red-fa
ced.

  Jana stops when she sees the bodies. All color vanishes from her face, and she sways a little. Taras says something to her, but I miss his words.

  Corin and I rush over to them. I take hold of Jana’s arm. She’s still staring at the bodies, her eyes wide.

  “No…no…no… Amalia… Vira… Shalla…” She turns to look at me, then at Taras who’s approaching the bodies. “Where are the others?”

  “What?”

  “Zara, Oona…and… They’re not here! Where are they?” she cries, turning. “The others? All the others!”

  “They haven’t been dead for long.” Taras inclines his head slightly toward me. “Do we know who killed them?”

  “The Enhanced. Has to be them.” I scan the area, but there are no signs.

  Yet I know some have been here. I saw that augmenter.

  My mouth feels too hot and thick, and I can’t get the words out, can’t tell them about it. I don’t know why I can’t—why I haven’t. Because I should’ve. Any other time, and I’d have told them. And twice it’s happened. Here and outside the Origin Cave. Proof the Enhanced are everywhere.

  Yet I haven’t said a word, and my mouth feels strange as I try to form the words now.

  “Unless my people found them.” Jana reaches out a hand toward Esther, then withdraws it. She shakes her head, her brows pinching together. “Seers were forced to live separately or hide their abilities. That’s why the Stone Seers lived here. I stayed with the main group, in hiding. I couldn’t leave my sisters. But they were driving us out.”

  “You think your group came here, found them?” Taras asks.

  Tears spill from Jana’s eyes and she looks at the ground, kicks at a dried root.

  “Have they been sent off?” Esther asks. “Don’t they need to be in the river?”

  Jana shakes her head. “The only river around here is the Great Stone River. That has to stay pure.” She gestures at the bodies. “This is how we send off our dead. The quartz beads are laid once the Spirit Releasing Words have been said and help has been requested from the Journeying Gods and Goddesses.”

  My breath catches. “Do you think we can still reach the New World?” I look to Corin, then Taras. “With no Journeying Gods or Goddesses left to guide us?”

  “I believe so. It is our instinct to get there, upon death,” Taras says. “The Divine Ones only helped us, and acted as gate-keepers in some instances, preventing Enhanced Ones from reaching the New World. There are still spirits. We do not know for sure how much they controlled things before, or whether they’re capable of completely fulfilling the Divine Ones’ roles now. I believe reaching the New World is still attainable for us.”

  But what about the Enhanced? Can they get there too now? I shudder.

  “We need to find the others.” Jana wipes her face with the back of her hands. “Zara and Oona. Arran and Jayai too, and the other adults, and the children who joined when they too were gifted—they should still be here.” She turns around, pushes her hair behind her ears, and her eyes take on a strange look. Unfocussed and….

  The air. I frown. It’s different here. Fuzzier… A hint of pepper?

  I look to the left, and—

  Movement.

  I start to cry out, but something hits the back of my head. Sudden pain, and—the light gets brighter, and I see the sun bobbing on the horizon, getting bigger, returning to the sky, like it’s running backward as the land twists around me. Rocks hurtle about. I duck, my breath in ragged gasps, turn and—

  The Enhanced?

  Shit.

  What are they doing? How are they—

  I can’t see. I can’t see anything. Only inky darkness around me. There’s nothing.

  “No, not her—she’s pregnant!” a voice yells, words twisting into shells in the darkness, shells that hit me, and—

  Then there’s no more.

  The world is singing, and there are trees. Silver trees. The moon is behind them, and the branches cut across the orb. The sky is a shimmery turquoise.

  I don’t know where I am, because my body is below, but it is not my body. It is theirs, because the lines—the arms, the legs, the hips—they’re moving, blurring separating into two, then three, then four.

  Four of us down there, dancing by the silver trees. Behind, is a river that sparkles like a thousand secret suns under soft moonlight. The air hums with energy, and there are flies everywhere, cutting sharp movement through the air as the four people stand up. Their laughter is like a waterfall, and it sweeps me away with them as they run through the silver woodland, singing. Voices rise, and, ahead of them, there’s a settlement with stone cliffs around it. A mountain, rich with life, watches over it. All kissed by moonlight.

  The people turn, and I see their faces, for I am closer now—I am flying—and their faces speak to me.

  Kind eyes. Untamed.

  Sarrs.

  My breath catches somewhere, but I don’t know where, because all I can think about is them. The Sarrs inside me.

  And this is their past. My past.

  A time long ago.

  The moonlight gets stronger, casts brighter silver tones over the trees, the people, the water.

  Safety. I feel it wrapping around me, wrapping tighter and tighter, and—

  The moon brightens.

  Artificial.

  A white light, so bright and—

  I blink, and I have an arm because I’m holding it in front of my body. A body! I have a body here. I’m standing, sand beneath my feet. There are no moonlit trees here, only—

  Two girls. Sarrs—different ones. In front of me. On desert ground, lying in a heap, arms and legs sticking out. Their skin is a few shades lighter than mine and specks of sand cover them, their dark hair. One has a cut on her face, just below her left eye.

  They’re not moving.

  Why aren’t they moving?

  I’m moving, running toward them, running through the sand so it lifts up, and I don’t understand, because they’re Sarrs, they’re my family, they’re inside me, and they’re—

  The land falls away from beneath my feet. My lungs burn and—

  I am in a chair, strapped in. What the hell?

  I jerk my head, see Raleigh. In front of me. His skin is shiny with sweat, my image trapped in his eyes. Untamed. I’m still Untamed. I scream, but time, I’m losing time because now he’s in my head, inside my soul, locking onto my powers, onto me.

  He shouldn’t be able to! Not now!

  He can’t….

  He hasn’t got my soul.

  But he has, and he’s here.

  “Burn him, Shania,” Raleigh whispers, and his whisper turns into a scream that cackles as flames erupt from my hands. Flames he directs at the Untamed man in front of me.

  At Corin.

  He’s here too, kneeling, head down. Doesn’t react as my flames hit him.

  “Burn him!”

  I try to fight Raleigh, try to stop him. But I can’t. More flames and fire. Everywhere.

  I scream, and pain lashes me.

  “No, I don’t think so, Shania.” Raleigh’s voice is like a cocoon, soft and inviting. But it’s a lie. It’s deadly, and I tense up, try to push him out, push him away. He just laughs. “Such a weak one, aren’t you? It’s a good job I’ve got ways and means to get what I want.”

  He directs new flames at Corin. His own flames, yet they look like mine. Flames that promise hurt and pain.

  “No!” I scream.

  “You didn’t take care of him,” Raleigh whispers. “You didn’t pay enough attention to him. You could’ve stopped this. But you didn’t. Now, he’s mine.”

  I look up. Sweat drips from every inch of my skin.

  Corin screams, and it’s too hot in here, and he’s melting.

  Actually melting.

  He melts like a wax doll, eyes and hair dripping, form slipping, until there’s just a pool. A pool of blood with a mirror surface floating atop—a mirror that shouldn’t be there, because he
’s not….

  There are no screams. No sounds from him. Only the crackles and hisses from the fire. From me. From my destruction.

  The sounds of Raleigh’s breathing are a net around me, getting tighter, tighter, tighter.

  “Now there’s just your demise to finish it off,” Raleigh whispers, and his whispers tighten the netting. “Because my world will be perfect, and you are a Seer of Death. My survivors will be perfection, and you are the last inferior thing left to destroy.”

  I jolt awake, heart pounding. Blood thumps in my ears. Soft blankets, over me, tucked under me. The light is bright, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust.

  I am in a hut. Raleigh’s not here. No net.

  Just soft blankets. All around me. And—and my clothes, they’re different. I can feel them. I untangle my arms from the blankets. Long sleeves, red, not ripped.

  “It’s okay,” a voice says. “You’re safe.”

  I turn and stare at the woman in the hut’s entrance: heart-shaped face, pale, with large eyes. Untamed. Blue eyes, like Jana’s. Her hair is a golden sun around her face, with just the smallest hint of red tones.

  “You must be hungry,” she says. Behind her, the light is bright, but I see a blue sky.

  She steps closer and places a bowl of meat stew in my hands. I find myself salivating at the aromas—don’t know how I didn’t notice before, because the smells are everywhere and they are wonderful. The woman hands me a spoon, and I dig in.

  “Where am I? Where are the others?” I ask around a mouthful.

  “You are at the hunting residence of the Stone Seers,” the woman says. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zara.” She holds out her hand, and I shake it. “Jana is assisting with the life your other female companion is bringing forth.”

  The Stone Seers? But this isn’t a cave—this is a hut. I can see the wooden structure, how hides have been sewn together to make the walls.

  Then I realize what she said. “Esther’s giving birth?”

  Zara smiles. “Untamed births are always a gift, even more so when they’re blessed.”

  I set the bowl and spoon aside. “I need to go to her.”