There’s so much, and I feel like I’m spinning.
And with this—Raleigh’s bond with Corin. Corin’s death? Where do I even start if I’m going to undo Raleigh’s work?
I exhale loudly, wait—hope—for the Sarrs to speak to me.
They don’t.
All that happens is my darkness surrounds me like a cloak, gets inside me, pulses through every vein in my body. It’s both bad and good. I really shouldn’t feel pride at the way I was able to kill all the Stone Seers—when the same power is going to kill Corin.
Has to kill Corin.
Unless I don’t kill Raleigh….
I shake myself. Try to take the feeling away. But there’s no right answer, no voice inside telling me what I should do.
“What’s that?” Taras’s voice makes me jolt, and I realize he’s stopped just ahead of me.
I catch him up, then all of us huddle together, looking to where Taras is pointing. Dawn light reveals a shape on the horizon.
I frown. “A hut?” My eyes narrow, and I think I make out more shapes, three more huts.
“Somewhere to stay?” Esther asks.
“We don’t know it’s Untamed,” Corin says, but I know we’re all thinking the same thing—the Enhanced don’t use huts. They live in towns and cities. It’s only the Untamed out here.
“Is anyone there?” Elf asks.
“Let’s find out.” I start forward.
It takes an hour to reach the huts, and as we near them, Taras calls out a greeting—but I already know there’s no one there. I just feel it. Seer instinct.
“It’s safe,” I call across to Corin and Elf. Taras has both his arms spread wide, palms up to the sky. “It’s only us here.”
“Just as well,” Corin says.
It’s amazing how easily they take my word for it, and part of me marvels at that. It feels good—to be trusted without question. Growing up, that never happened. My opinion was never valued. Not by Rahn.
We head toward the huts—four of them—and my heart stammers. I’m looking for signs of illness or disease or infection, and déjà vu fills me. Walking into huts with decaying flesh, and Raleigh—
No.
“Are you okay?” Corin’s looking at me.
I nod, tell myself to stay calm, in control. There are no signs. This isn’t the same.
“We should all stay in the same hut. That one looks…nice.”
Nice. Not the word I’d choose. But there’s something about the shack that reminds me of Nbutai.
The wind picks up, and we hurry inside. A flat, stale smell wraps around us.
Esther pales and hands Toivo to Corin. Then she presses her hand against her lower abdomen as she sits down.
“Are you all right?” I crouch next to her.
She nods, but holds the back of her hand over her mouth for a few seconds. When she lowers it, a little more color returns to her face. “Just went dizzy there.”
“No wonder,” Elf says. “Walking through the night like that.” He yawns.
“We need to find somewhere permanent,” Taras says. “Traveling is not easy with the baby.”
“Toivo,” Esther says, her voice sharp. “He has a name.”
“Well, we’d better see if there’s any food, then catch up on sleep,” Taras says.
It’s silent when I wake, and dull light spills through the doorway. I get up, step outside, need to breathe in the cool air.
It’s so quiet, like a soft candle waiting to be lit. I can’t see the sun because the sky is a mass of cloud, but I guess it’s around mid-afternoon. It’s stopped raining, but air feels damp, heavy, like there’s a lot of water absorbed within it.
I take a deep breath, then walk out farther. My shoes and the bottoms of my jeans are soaked in an instant thanks to the wet grass, but there’s not a lot of water lying in the grasslands itself. A strange tranquility hangs in the air, one that contrasts deeply with the missing spirits. Yes. The spirits. I can distract myself with those. I need to think of something different.
I let the spirits fill my mind, the ones I’ve seen—managed to control—have been different.
What if spirits were never supposed to be humanoid? What if this is how they’re supposed to be?
A deep ache settles in my chest as I think of my brother. Will he never meet Toivo? Or is he already here, around us, around me now? I stare at the air, try to imagine Three’s form here. Am I being silly, thinking he could just be invisible, unable to communicate with me now, and that I just can’t sense him? Or is he really not here?
Gone.
But, the spirits, can I really control them on mass, give them all enough energy to carry out my commands without it weakening me, diminishing my ability to control them? Would it be possible to use them as an army? Is that even fair?
Raleigh controlled me, made me his weapon, didn’t give me a choice, and I know how that felt. I can still feel the fingerprints he’s left on me, my mind, my memories. I shudder. How can I control all the spirits, take away their free will and get them to do something as huge as mass-murder?
No. The answer’s clear. For something as big as using them to end the war, to do what the Living Rock showed, I need their permission. They’re still people, even if they’re trapped between worlds.
If I can’t get it, there has to be another way to beat the vast armies of Enhanced. Has to be. I’m not taking away anyone’s free will.
But I’ll still be killing the Enhanced, killing Raleigh, killing Corin.
I kick a little dust up as I walk. The moonlight grows brighter, but on the horizon there’s the coming sun. It feels peaceful.
“Sev?”
I turn back to see Corin. He’s standing a few feet away, and I wait for him to come over to me. Only he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching. Watching me. He’s finally wearing different clothes to the ones he escaped New Kitembu in—we discovered old garments in one of the huts early this morning, before we slept, along with some packs of dried food—and he looks crisper, fresher.
I cross over to him. “Are you all right?” My words sound stilted, and I half expect him to keel over in front of me—my first sign that Raleigh’s dead. It doesn’t even have to be me; he said any Untamed who kill him will cause Corin’s death.
Oh Gods.
I might have no control over it anyway… Corin could die so easily, no warning.
I pull my sleeves over my hands, grip the fabric hard.
Corin nods. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Thinking about Raleigh?” I ask, swallowing the lump in my throat.
He rubs his left eyebrow. “Yeah, but I… I don’t know, I think Elf’s right, Sev.”
“Right?”
He nods. “Raleigh can’t have bonded his death with mine. It doesn’t make sense. I’m not a Seer, and it’s not like he’s got my soul, like he did yours.” He breathes deeply. “It’s a ruse, and it’s the perfect way to trick you into going to him. Can’t you see it?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Corin, it’s real.”
“It’s a trap. You think I’m in danger, that we can’t win without me dying, so you go to him to undo it—and then he gets you. He’ll find some way to block your Seer-travel so you can’t escape, and you’ll have willingly gone to him, and he’ll use your powers, convert us all. You going to him, it’s what he wants. It’s all a lie. You just need to forget it. It’s just all mind games.”
“No, it is real,” I say. “If I don’t do anything, don’t try and undo this, he’ll get what he wants: his people surviving.”
Corin stares at me. His mouth drops open.
I realize what I’ve said. That I’d choose Corin’s life over his death. Even if he’s Enhanced? I’d let Corin be converted? What?
I clutch my arms to my chest, rock slightly on the balls of my feet. It just slipped out—those words. But I can’t kill Raleigh, if it means killing Corin. I know I can’t.
So the Enhanced would win.
Or the war re
ally would never end.
Only it has to end. We can feel it. Your death is near. The war’s end is coming.
Oh Gods. Raleigh’s clever.
“You’d let our people die so I live?” Corin’s voice has a hard edge. “Even if I live as one of them?”
“I—I….”
“Sev, if this is real, you can’t save me over humanity. Humanity has to come first. I wouldn’t want to live like that. I’d rather die. It wouldn’t be living, living as one of them.”
“I can’t watch you die…” I stare at him. How can he think I would do that?
“You think I want to watch you die?” He grunts. “You can’t be selfish. But anyway, it’s not real. Look—you’re getting all worried, and that’s what Raleigh’s counting on. He wants you fretting, so you’re not concentrating on winning the war. He’s using this to distract you. It’s the perfect way for him to get you to go to him willingly.” He shakes his head. “Don’t fall into his trap. Don’t go to Raleigh, because if you do, something tells me you won’t come back.”
“Corin, I—”
But he cuts me off. “No. I know you. And I know him. He plays games. This is a trap.”
“But you look better, you feel better too, right?” I grab his arms. “That’s because Raleigh’s stopped making you ill, it was just to get our attention.”
Corin breathes out slowly. “It was the Stone Seers making me ill. Now they’re dead, I’m free of their spell. You’ve already saved me. There’s nothing else to save me from, especially not with Raleigh.”
“No,” I say.
“Don’t play into Raleigh’s hand. Promise me.”
“I can’t promise that.” My chest feels hollow. I don’t understand, how can he not believe this? How can he not see that Raleigh’s telling the truth?
But he can’t.
Only I can see the red dots, the promises of truth.
He shakes his head, his disappointment obvious. “He’s already got you, hasn’t he?”
I must have a power that will undo Raleigh’s work.
I have to.
I spend the rest of the day, searching, again, through the powers inside me, asking the Sarrs for help, but they don’t know the answer. I don’t tell Corin what I’m doing—that’s just asking for him to stop me. No matter how ridiculous he thinks it is, I’m doing it. I have to.
As the sun goes down, we regroup—though no one has ventured far from the huts as there’s a creek nearby, and we’re all still tired. We eat, finishing off the last of the packs of dried food. They look somewhat like emergency rations, and as I chew, I can’t help but wonder whose they were, before.
Taras clears his throat. “I suggest we use this place as a base while we group together. Seven, if you can bring other Untamed here, even better. There’s safety in numbers.”
“Even though Raleigh wants Seven to turn us all in?” Esther asks. She looks at me. “I don’t mean you’re going to do that, but…” Her voice wobbles. “It’s just if we all unite, Raleigh could get all of us so much more easily.” Her gaze darts to Corin, and something tells me she’s thinking how he would at least live then at the war’s end.
“We have to unite to win,” Taras says. “That has not changed. Seven is not silly enough to give us all to Raleigh so Corin lives. Now,” he adds quickly, before anyone can say anything, “tomorrow, we need to hunt. We need to bring in meat. There are bows and arrows in the other huts, and cooking equipment too. Elf and Corin, you can go and get game in then, yes?”
“I can go too,” I say. If Corin’s out hunting, I need to be there too. I have to find a way to unbind him from Raleigh. I need to look at his soul more. The key has to be there. “There’s no point in me staying here, trying to unite Untamed—that’s not a power I’m in control of. The uniting just happens. My Seer-travel took us to the Stone Seers, but it doesn’t always lead to the Untamed. And we found Elf, and I still don’t know how I pulled you to me, Taras. But if it was going to happen now, it would’ve. I’m certain of that.”
It’s the one thing I am certain of.
Taras nods slowly. “Then we will use this as a base to recuperate our strength and resources before we move on. Who knows, maybe other Untamed will come to us, be enticed to us by your powers. They could have a magnetic effect.”
“We need to get better at fighting,” Elf says. “We could practice here as well. Both with our powers and without.”
Taras says he needs to meditate and glances at me. Meditate with Marta’s lore? Learn more of her stories? Hope rises in me. But how reliable are stories anyway?
“The rest of you should sleep now,” Taras says. “Make sure you’re refreshed for tomorrow. I will be alert enough to wake you all if there’s danger.”
We all head into the shack. Taras sits in the center. Despite sleeping earlier, my eyes feel heavy, tired. Exhaustion hovers not far off, but I can’t stop looking at the red dots on Corin’s soul. The more I look, the brighter they seem to be, the stronger they get.
I know it’s just in my head, because I’m tired, worn out, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
Corin sees me looking at him and shakes his head. “Let’s not talk about it again.”
I nod, but I don’t feel like talking anyway as we settle down. I turn my back to Taras, then change my mind, roll over, so I can’t see Corin’s red dots. I try to push it from my mind, really try to, as I let exhaustion take over.
Just before my body switches off and I succumb to sleep, I see them again. The Sarrs in me. Those two girls, the ones I saw at the end, last time, as the moonlit land changed to Raleigh’s torture.
I feel myself tense as I see them, see their faces, their figures more clearly. One is taller with a broader frame, the other’s smaller, more petite features. Both have long black hair and are younger than I’d thought. Maybe thirteen, fourteen years old. The taller one has eyes like my mother’s.
Eyes that make me smile.
“He can’t track through it,” the smaller one says.
Track Corin, through the red dots? My powers already told me he was safe, but hearing confirmation, again, makes me smile.
“We’re safe,” the other Sarr says, and she smiles as she disappears, fades from my mind because the message has been said now.
I expect Raleigh to take over, like the last time I saw them, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t torment me about Corin. There’s nothing. Just sleep. Dreamless sleep.
The next morning, I get up early. My ears ring, and I splash cold water from the creek onto my face, but it doesn’t help much. My stomach rumbles.
As I return to the shacks, I see Esther standing a little way off. Her body’s still, very still, and she’s staring out at the grasslands. I make my steps louder as I approach her and call her name, careful to keep my voice soft.
She turns, and I don’t know whether it’s the early-morning light that makes her eyes look so different—so lost—or if it’s what she’s thinking. Either way, it makes the palms of my hands clammy, and the back of my throat suddenly feels raw.
“Are you okay?”
She nods and hugs herself. Her face looks gaunter, and there’s a thin, watery film over each eye.
I stare at her for a moment, shift my weight from foot to foot.
“I’m fine.” She sees me looking and wipes at her eyes, blinks rapidly, before turning to look out at the grasslands again.
I follow her gaze. The land sweeps into slight, soft hills in the distance, and I count three trees. Esther flinches. My gaze is drawn to her in an instant. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her body again, and I see the amount of tension in her fingers, how tightly she’s gripping her jumper. Her face itself is pinched, and a muscle in her forehead pulses.
I think of what Corin said. His fear about how she’s not coping.
I step nearer and clear my throat. There’s a heavy sensation in my stomach, and I pray I’m not about to make things worse. “Uh, Esther? I—I don’t know what to say, not
really, but if you need to talk about…about Manning or the Zharat—or anything—I’m here.”
She turns toward me slowly, her whole body pivoting. Her jaw moves a little, as if she’s chewing slightly, and the cool breeze wraps around us.
“I’m fine.”
“If you need to talk though—any time.”
“No, Seven, I’m fine.” Her face pinches inward. Her arms shake a little, still locked around her body. She visibly swallows. “There’s no point in wasting energy on that.”
“It wouldn’t be wasting energy,” I say. “Processing is important.”
“Then let me process it my way.” Her eyes flash. “I have to check on Toivo.”
“Sorry,” I whisper, and I watch as she heads back into the hut. She doesn’t return.
I stay outside, sit by one of the other huts, until Corin emerges. He sees me and heads over.
“Is Esther okay?” I ask, standing up.
“She’s quiet,” he says. “Did you say anything?”
I nod and tell him. He’s quiet for a long moment, then he too nods.
“Okay. So long as she knows we’re here for her.”
There are two bows, as well as a sling, and Corin, Elf, and I practice using them, a little way from the huts. Corin and Elf take the bows because they’re better aims with those than me. I’ve got the sling, made from two lengths of fishing wire attached to a small section of supple leather. One free end of the wire has a small ring, the other a knot. I’ve only used a sling a couple of times before—my mother used to hunt with one at her old group, before she met my father, and when I was twelve, she helped me learn, just as she’d done with my siblings. I was never great at it—and I know it takes practice and familiarity to get the momentum right to carry the pebbles in the sling as it’s rotated, before flinging them toward the prey. We practice until we’re all hitting the majority of our targets, then head out. The sun’s already strong, and we don’t want to waste too much of the day. Corin and Elf will be doing the majority of the hunting anyway.
We walk for nearly two hours, before Corin raises his hand in the stop! gesture.
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