by E. S. Maya
Raven let go of Safi’s back and pointed a quivering finger. All that laughter had left a smile on her face. “I ain’t paying you to ask questions.”
“You’re barely paying us as it is!” said the redhead.
“She’ll be good on the money,” Rao assured them. He gave Raven a bashful smile. “I trust her.”
The redhead bounced the sword on his shoulder, glaring at the three first-years. “You couldn’t pay me enough to trust a Southerling paired with an Anderan street wretch. I trust the Berrid, though.” Stiv looked pleased, but then the redhead continued, “My father always said they’ve got sheep in their blood. Makes it so they’re too stupid to tell lies.”
“Oh yeah?” retorted Stiv. “Also makes it hard to chicken out of work in the Titan mines!” That struck a sore spot, for it left all three woodworkers glaring.
Raven gave Safi a nearly imperceptible nod.
So it’s come to this. Safi took a deep breath. “I don’t think you boys understand,” she said, puffing up her chest and starting towards the redhead. “I need that sword.” Her foot caught an old barrel stave, and she kicked it aside. To her surprise, it shattered to pieces on the alley wall. She dipped her chin and showed her teeth. “If you don’t give it over…”
The redhead leapt back, flipping the sword into a fighting position. “Blessed prophet, keep that Southerling away from me!”
“Safi, no!” From behind Raven pounced, throwing her arms around Safi’s waist. The half-Abed stomped on, dragging her friend down the alley behind her.
“By the Nine Stones, we’ve got to stop her!” Stiv played along by hurling himself onto Safi’s back. The impact nearly put her on the ground. Titans, the boy weighed heavier than a horse.
Safi continued forward, dragging Raven and Stiv with every painstaking step. She hadn’t… expected them… to weigh… so much. “Gimme that sword!”
Rao hurried between the groups, arms outstretched. He nodded to his fellow woodworkers. “You two can split this twenty, then take the rest of your shares from the thirty next week.” He glanced at Safi and gave a nervous chuckle. “So hand the sword over before the Southerling goes wild on you.”
“Fine, take the damn thing,” the Resmyran said, flinging the sword over Rao’s head.
Safi shrugged off her friends, leaving them in the company of the floor. She darted forward and caught the sword single-handedly by its hilt
Holding it up in her fist, she marveled at the weight of her new weapon. She whisked it through the air, and the tip made a whistling sound. It was a swift sword. A powerful one. A sword with no known equal. A sword capable of slaying giants.
She pictured herself standing in the center of a great valley, standing bravely in the path of a Siege Titan. The sword’s name came to her lips, as natural as a breath, as simple as a spoonful of porridge. “Titansbane,” she said, cutting air once more. “The sword’s name is Titansbane.”
“What the hell kind of name is that?” Raven said, elbowing Stiv off her back.
“A fine name,” Safi said, swishing her sword for emphasis. It would take time to get used to its weight. Even their cleaning brooms had been heavier.
“Careful with that,” Rao warned her. “We reinforced the outside with limewood, but it’ll split if you go too hard on it.”
“It’s wonderful.” Safi hugged the sword to her chest. “Thank you all so much.”
“Abedi girls sure are strange,” remarked the short Andolan. Beside him, the redhead nodded in agreement.
“You have no idea,” said Stiv, as Raven helped the boy up from the filthy alley floor.
“So I’ll be seeing you soon,” Rao said to Raven. He sounded somewhat hopeful.
“Yeah, yeah,” Raven said, taking Safi by the wrist and leading her out of the alley. Stiv gave each of the woodworkers a nod, then, chest puffed with pride, went chasing after the girls.
When Stiv wasn’t looking, Safi caught Raven glancing back over her shoulder. To give Rao a wink so seductive it sent her own heart racing.
56
Iron and Stone
The first-year miners watched as Safi worked her final shift, head bent low, pickaxe glancing off the drift wall. The somber staccato rhythm echoed through the dusty dig site.
That was cause for many neckerchief-veiled frowns. Despite their earlier impressions, the boys took pride in Safi’s presence as a miner. But with Wulf in the infirmary, tomorrow’s fight with Noth would be forfeit. Blondie’s time in the Titan mines would be coming to an end.
From the way the girl was working, it was clear she had given up hope.
Safi grinned under her neckerchief. At least, that was what she wanted them to think. In truth, she was pulling every blow, preserving her precious strength. Saving every ounce of energy for her fight with the recruit foreman.
For Noth expected no opponent at all, but Safi had trained all week with her new sword, mastering its speed and its weight. Such an advantage Titansbane gave her, that yesterday she backed a broom-wielding Raven into all the walls and corners of the barracks, defeating her soundly in every spar.
Hours passed, and the work bells sang their sweet song. Team Wulf finished a full cart under quota, but that mattered little now. They took the long way back to the Fivers’ Camp, crunching the dust of Lazar’s Crossing. Their route brought them to Cronus’ fingertip, the largest stone in the field. Here was where Safi’s friendship with Wulf had first truly bloomed. Where she discovered her limits and her potential.
Stiv scooped a pebble off the ground and chucked it at the boulderstone. “What happens if you lose?”
Safi picked up a stone and closed one eye, aiming at the spot Stiv had struck. “Same thing that happens if I don’t fight.” She threw it and—a perfect shot. “Something to do with cleaning the fifth-years’ latrines and undergarments.”
Jabbar tossed a stone, and it landed short. The boy shrugged. “Safiyas, I helped carry your tree, and I helped moved the sword posts.” (“You did what?” asked Stiv.) “But,” Jabbar continued with a frown “I’m not certain you can win. This is not a good plan.”
“Would you prefer that I didn’t fight at all?” asked Safi.
Beside her, Goggles picked up a stone and took aim.
Jabbar folded his arms, one hand thumbing the sparse dark hairs of his chin. “Yes. It is safer. If you fight, the recruit foreman will hurt you. He has always wanted to hurt you and this is his chance. The children of Saerkonia will always hate our people. I have heard Noth lost his father in the Third War. Just about every Serk, old or young, has family they lost to the Abed.”
“But they attacked us.”
Jabbar shook his head. “And we attacked them in the war before that. It does not matter.”
Stiv held up a stone and aimed, but let his hand flop to his side. “You lost your parents in the war,” he said to Jabbar. “Do you hate the Serks too?”
“Yes,” replied Jabbar without hesitation. “And if I thought I could win, I’d challenge the recruit foreman myself.”
Stiv lowered himself to the ground, laying on his back amongst the Titan stones. “Same here. Titans, I’d challenge him tomorrow, if a fight was a fight.”
Jabbar lowered his hand from his chin. “It’s different when your friend is on the line.”
Safi looked to Goggles, who was absently chucking stones at Cronus’ fingertip. “Gogs, do you think I can win?”
The big-eared boy lowered his stone. Without his eyeglasses, he needed to squint to find her. “I don’t think so.” He turned back to the boulderstone and threw hard. The stone skipped off the top before falling back to the ground. “But I sure hope you do.”
Chuckling, Safi knelt to retrieve her pickaxe. The three of them watched in silence as she marched up to Cronus’ fingertip. Pacing before the boulderstone, she traced her gloved hand along the stone’s battered face, pausing when she found the snakelike crack Noth had made on their first day of training. It began at her knees and ended well over h
er head.
“This isn’t about the war. It’s not about Abed or Serks or honor.” She stepped to the side, dropped the head of her pickaxe to the ground. Both hands gripping the throat, she raised the digging tool high.
Her lithe body flexed like the long stroke of a whip. She could feel the power inside her, leaping from the tips of her toes, to the pivot on her hips, to the squeeze of her chest, and the downward pull of her arms…
In all her months as a miner, Safi had never swung her pickaxe so hard. Iron met stone with a pop. The recoil sent her dancing backwards, though her feet seemed to know every step. Looking down, she was surprised to find that her pickaxe remained in her clinging hands. Then she saw the scarred face of the Siege Titan’s fingertip, only now a second vertical crack ran parallel to the first. Inches shorter, but its height was nearly the same.
She turned to face the boys, who stared wide-eyed in shock.
“It’s about finding a Siegestone. It’s about freedom. Twenty-five years is my sentence. I won’t get out of Camp Cronus without taking chances.” Her next words came out in a whisper. “I can’t stay trapped in here for that long.” Feeling her lower lip tremble, she dipped her chin to her chest. “And I can’t let Noth get away with what he did to Wulf.”
A look of understanding came over Stiv’s face. He climbed to his feet and straightened his uniform. “Then I guess we’ll have to trust you,” he said, patting Jabbar on the shoulder. “What do you say, brother? Shall we cheer Blondie on and hope for the best?”
“Yes, we shall!” With a burst of fresh enthusiasm, Jabbar clapped Stiv across his back. To everyone’s surprise, the Berrid went stumbling forward.
For the first time in weeks, Team Wulf shared a round of laughter.
As they began their walk to the Fivers’ Camp, Goggles curled back his arm for one final throw. Safi watched with amazement as the Titan stone launched through the air, soaring over their heads, a speck against the sky that disappeared behind Cronus’ fingertip.
Safi stirred awake to the chorus of a hundred snoring girls. A bright beam of sunshine was crawling across her bed, and she stretched out her toes in its warmth.
The moment didn’t last. A few minutes later, she heard the creaking of bed frames, the thumping of bare feet, and the cautious squeals of bunk chests from all about the room.
Her fellow recruits, preparing themselves for Blessing Day.
Her heart jumped her chest. The sweat on her feet felt cold. She threw off her blanket and slunk out of bed. Then, standing before her bunk chest, she began dressing herself in her miner’s uniform for what felt like the last time.
Clipping on her suspenders, she heard a voice whispering her name. She looked around frantically, but it was only Pearl, yellow eyes peeking, sitting up in the adjacent bunk bed. Her blanket framed her face like the scarf of an elder woman. “Are you going to have a fight with that fifth-year boy today?”
Safi’s arms went still. Her leather suspenders slipped from her hands. “Now who went and told you that?”
Like a frightened cat, Pearl retreated under her blanket. Safi unwrapped the girl, revealing her round ears, her bespectacled yellow eyes, and her pale little face. “Say it,” Safi said, poking her gently on the forehead. “Who’s been gossiping to you, Pearl Gregor?”
“No one, Safi, honest!” Pearl tugged her blanket out from Safi’s hands and pulled it up to her nose. “I just hear things, and I wanted to wish you luck, is all.”
“I’ll need all the luck I can get,” Safi assured her. “Just please don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.”
Pearl raised her fingers to her lips and pretended to fasten several invisible buttons.
Safi felt a pair of hands tug at her suspenders, pulling them over her shoulders. She knew that touch. “Raven,” she said, turning to face her bunkmate. Today Raven wore a navy tunic, cut low to show off her collarbones, and a pair of navy trousers hemmed too short to cover the length of her ankles. Truly, the girl had the strangest taste in clothes.
Raven tousled Pearl’s hair and sat next to her in bed. “You look good,” she told Safi, reaching to slap at her tummy. “Feeling vicious yet?”
“No,” Safi admitted. Though her muscles felt hard and steady, her insides were softer than porridge. She sat the edge of her bed, squeezing together her knees to keep them from shaking. It was the first time they had shaken in some time.
Raven shrugged. “You’ll work it up after breakfast, some of that Southerling fury.”
Safi nearly scolded her for using that word, but just for today, she hoped the Anderan was right. Hands trembling, she rolled her socks up her feet and yanked on her dusty work boots. Then she tucked a pant leg into her boot shaft, wrapped her leather laces thrice around her ankle, and finished with a tidy double bow.
Pearl made a faint whistling sound before slipping off the opposite side of her bed.
From the corner of her eye, Safi caught sight of a curly-haired girl stomping barefooted across the room. The worst girl in the world. “What do you want, Hannah?” she said, having neither the mood, nor the patience, for the head girl’s presence.
Raven shot her a fleeting expression, full of surprise and approval.
Hannah forced a viciously fake smile. “Don’t you think it’s about time you threw out that uniform? Everyone knows about your Anderan boytoy’s wager with Noth.”
“Their fight isn’t over yet,” Safi said, fastening her second boot. She rose from her bed to face the older girl. At last, her knees were still. She smiled, and unlike Hannah, hers was genuine. “Maybe Wulf’ll show up after all. Give your stone-brained boyfriend the beating he deserves.”
Raven covered her mouth and turned away for a snort. It only made her amusement much more obvious.
“I somehow doubt that,” Hannah said, accenting each syllable with the sharp flick of her tongue. “Shame about the mining accident. I would have loved to see that street wretch ravaged up and down the sword ring.” She wet her lips with her tongue. “I could’ve made a killing on that fight.”
“Perhaps you’d care to try your luck with me,” Safi said, no longer fearing the fifth-year, nor the punishments she might deliver under the protection of the mining camp hierarchy. For months her heart had ached from the pain Hannah had inflicted on her friends, but now.
Today was the day of her fight. A day of defiance, not only towards Noth, but to all who had dared doubt her. She raised her voice so all of the barracks could hear her. “You aren’t scared of a first-year, are you?”
Hannah sneered. “Scared? My own shadow’s more frightening than you.” As if to prove her point, she positioned herself close to Safi, exaggerating their difference in stature. When the first-year remained still, she raised her palm swiftly to strike.
Safi offered her cheek, unflinching. She knew full well that Hannah wouldn’t hit her in front of so many witnesses.
The head girl lowered her hand. “I don’t need to fight you, half-breed. We’ll see how much attitude you’ve got left after being reduced to a scrub girl for the fifth-year boys. Those miners get real dirty come wintertime.”
Safi squeezed her hands into fists. They felt empty without the haft of a pickaxe or the hilt of a sword, but she could beat Hannah barehanded now if she wanted to. She was sure of it.
“Safi,” Raven warned her.
Safi relaxed her fingers. The scab on her palm burned fresh with pain. She knew better than to rouse the slumbering strength inside her. Not yet. She hadn’t the strength to spare, physical or otherwise, if she had any hopes of defeating Noth in the sword ring.
“Come by the fights today,” Hannah said, swinging around to leave. “I want to see the look on your face when your career as a miner ends.”
“Ignore her,” Raven said, once the head girl was out of earshot. “Save it for the recruit foreman.” She gave Safi a devious smile. “You worry about Noth. I’ll take care of Hannah.”
In the chow hall, Raven snuck into the kitchen and prepared
what could only be called a warrior’s breakfast: two large sliced potatoes and a thick cut of beef, fried sizzling in a pan of oil. When she set the plate down on the table, Rebecca and Pearl’s eyes lit up at the hearty, expensive meal.
But that wasn’t all. Raven hurried back to the kitchen and returned carrying a mug of steaming black brew. She set it down delicately beside Safi’s plate. “There.”
“Is that…” Safi leaned close, inhaling the bitter smell. It smelled of her father. Of home. “Coffee?”
Rebecca wrinkled her nose. “Where did you find such a thing?”
“It wasn’t cheap,” Raven informed her, slipping in two lumps of brown sugar. “But such things have been known to pass through church from time to time.” Rebecca gave her a look of disapproval. Snickering, Raven scooted the mug towards Safi. “Drink up.”
Safi blew the steam off the top and raised the mug to her lips, taking tentative sips of the bittersweet brew.
“Can I try?” asked Pearl, nostrils flaring. Safi passed the mug across the table. Pearl pushed up her eyeglasses before taking one tiny sip. Then she stuck out her tongue, and the girls shared a round of laughter.
Rebecca chased a raisin around her bowl of porridge. “Honestly, you girls are too much. Throwing yourselves into bets, sneaking around at night, fussing around in the church.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, frowning at her food. “I just wish you’d told me about it. Maybe I could have helped, somehow.”
Safi swallowed a mouthful of beef and potatoes, then washed it down with a gulp of coffee. “Sorry, Becca.” She glanced at Raven beside her, then offered the redhead a smile. “We didn’t want to worry you, or get you in trouble.”
After a long pause, Rebecca met Safi’s eyes and nodded slowly.
“Truth is,” Safi said, “Wulf’s still injured, and if no one fights the recruit foreman, I won’t be a miner for much longer. So I’m going to fight Noth instead, beat him at his own game.
Rebecca looked horrified. “You’re a girl!” she said, as if Safi needed reminding. “And Noth is how old, seventeen? That’s crazy.”
