by Bobby Adair
“Is that when you found the bow?” Bray asked, as he traced the path of the string around the wheels.
Ivory shifted uncomfortably. “I got it on my last trip.”
“It’s in remarkable shape, for such a find. Where did you say you got it?”
“In one of the buildings near the water,” Ivory said vaguely. “I had to restring it. It took me a lot of time to figure that out, and how the wheels worked.”
“You said you’ve killed demons with it?”
“Yes,” Ivory said, unable to contain his pride. “Two, so far.”
“I noticed you had no trouble pulling back the arrow, and yet it flew farther and faster than I would’ve expected. How does that work?”
“The wheels help take some of the pressure off your hand, once you get it to a certain position. That lets you aim better, and hold the bow steadier. Or at least that’s what I think, after using it a few days.”
“I’d like to try it myself, after you finish breakfast.” Bray shrugged. “That is, if you wouldn’t mind showing me.”
“I’d like to try, too,” Melora chimed in.
Ivory nodded but didn’t commit to anything.
Although he didn’t quite trust Bray, he was looking forward to firing the bow again. Before finding Melora, he’d been headed back to the tower with Jingo to practice. They’d seen no sign of the bear-man since returning on the boat. He wondered if the man had gone back to Brighton, or if he was still lying in wait somewhere.
Changing the subject, he asked, “Have you seen anyone else in the city?”
Bray grunted. “No. The Ancient City isn’t a place for men.”
“Well, you picked one of the safer places to hide.”
“What do you mean?”
“The demons don’t come around this part of the city as much as the others.”
Bray grunted. “I’ve seen demons everywhere in the city, so I doubt that’s true.”
“It’s not a rule, of course,” Ivory said. “Some of them will go anywhere. And they’ll follow a human wherever they find them. But this area is less traveled than others. It dates back to some of the wars the Ancients had. That’s what I was telling Melora.”
Bray didn’t look convinced.
Ivory changed the subject again. “Melora told me you fled from what happened in Davenport. I’m sorry to hear about your relatives.”
“They weren’t mine.” Bray shrugged and chewed his meat.
Ella dropped a flask on the floor and it landed with a clatter. Ivory glanced up and noticed her watching him. “Have you heard anything about the massacre while you were in Brighton?” Ella asked.
“Nothing, other than what Melora explained,” Ivory said. “I was in Brighton a few days ago, but only long enough to learn the news about my father.”
Ella furrowed her brow. “What happened to him?”
“Ivory’s father was taken in the last Cleansing in Brighton,” Melora explained.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Ella bent down to retrieve her flask. She looked back at her bag, nervous.
Ivory lowered his head. Though he liked Melora’s company, something didn’t seem right with these people. What was it? He knew they had sought refuge in the city, but there was something else. He needed time to figure it out. Realizing the others were still watching, he said, “My father was a good man. He was a rabbit hunter, too.”
Bray cleared his throat. He lowered his head. “The Cleansing takes too many of the best of us.”
Ivory nodded his agreement and finished his pork. He wiped his face with his sleeve.
“Would you like more?” Melora asked.
Ivory looked at her outstretched hand. A sour look from Ella convinced him he shouldn’t take any more of these people’s rations. “I’m fine.”
With the meal done, Ivory felt the anticipation in the room. Everyone was watching his bow. He suddenly felt the need to keep the weapon close to him. “You know what? I’m pretty tired right now. I wouldn’t mind resting, if that’d be okay with you.”
The disappointment on Bray’s face was evident. He covered it up. “Of course,” he said. “Maybe we can try out the bow when you wake up?”
“Sure.” Ivory made a show of wiping his eyes. In truth, he was exhausted. Several days and nights of being awake had worn him down. He and Melora had tried napping in shifts, but the carousing, screeching demons had kept them mostly awake in the building where they’d hidden.
“Do you need a blanket?” Melora asked.
“I have one in my bag,” Ivory said.
He glanced around for a quiet corner.
“You can sleep in my room, if you’d like,” William offered, pointing through an archway that led into a second room.
“William,” Ella cut in. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not? The room will be empty. It’s still daylight, and I’m not tired.”
“What about Melora?” Ella asked. “She’ll be staying in there.”
“I can stay in this room,” Melora said. “He can use that one.”
Stripped of an argument, Ella fell silent and resumed looking through the belongings in her bag.
“I’ll show you the best spot,” William offered, darting into the other room before Ella could stop him.
“Sounds good. Thank you for the breakfast.” Ivory stood. Walking out of the circle of penetrating eyes, he felt relieved.
“That’s where I sleep,” William said to Ivory as he entered the room. He pointed to a small bag on the ground, a blanket spilling out of the top. “Melora usually sleeps closer to the wall.”
“That looks comfortable.”
“We only had one room back at home,” William confessed. “This place is much bigger.”
Ivory was thinking of a polite response when Ella called William from the other room. “William! Let the young man sleep.”
“But I want to show him my sword!” William complained.
“Sword?” Ivory asked.
Ivory frowned as William hurried over to a blanket in the corner, pulling a large sword with a worn handle from underneath. It was much bigger than the one William had scabbarded at his side. William smiled and hoisted it in the air.
“William, be careful!” Ella scolded, walking into the room.
“I know how to use it, Mom,” William retorted.
“Where’d you get that?” Ivory asked, furrowing his brow. It looked like a large man must’ve used it.
“I found it in an alley next to the building,” William explained. “Someone must’ve left it behind.”
“Bray thinks they might’ve been killed,” Ella said with a concerned expression. “He said it looks like a Warden’s sword.”
“Either way, it’s mine now,” William said. “Finders keepers!”
Ivory frowned as Ella herded William from the room.
Chapter 11: Oliver
“What now?” Beck asked.
Leaning against the curved wall of the cylinder as he sat, Oliver looked up at Beck and tried to guess what it was he was getting at. If there was one thing Oliver knew about Beck, he was always thinking about where his conversations were leading, rather than what he was currently saying. “I don’t want to discuss it.”
“Why not?” asked Beck.
“I’m reluctant.”
“People only say that when they want you to ask them a second time.” Beck smiled to show off his brilliant deduction.
Oliver sighed. “I had ideas of how life would be outside the wall, you know, before I lost my bravery and failed to kill Father Winthrop.”
“I dare say your mistake was short-lived.” Beck chuckled. “I have little doubt the demons killed him, along with the rest of the wretches on that hill.”
“Tell me more about these ideas of yours,” Beck said.
Oliver shook his head. “They were silly boyhood ideas, adventurous and unrealistic. I’m not that old, you know.”
“I’ve noticed,” said Beck, “but talking to you most times is like talking to an adult. You’re an exceptional young man, Oliver.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Yes you do,” said Beck. “You can pretend around other men so they won’t know what you are, but I know. Let’s dispense with the charade, okay?”
“I’ll try,” said Oliver. “But you need to understand that even if you think I mostly speak like an adult, I’m still a boy. I’m still prone to doing boyish things and making boyish mistakes.”
“Everybody makes mistakes.” Beck laughed. “Don’t judge yourself too harshly.”
Oliver crinkled his brow and fidgeted, not wanting to admit his most foolish mistake. “I thought I’d do well out here in the wild. I thought I’d evade the demons with ease, or kill them when I needed to.”
“So far, true on both counts,” interjected Beck.
“I don’t know.”
“Here we are,” said Beck. “The truth is self-evident. And you have killed demons.”
“Okay,” admitted Oliver. “I didn’t think I’d be so hungry. I thought I’d be able to find food before I ran out of my supplies. Now after jumping in the river to save our lives, everything I brought with me is ruined, and I don’t yet know how to hunt for animals. I don’t know what plants I can eat.”
“You’re afraid we’ll starve?” asked Beck.
Nodding, Oliver said, “The only thing I’m not afraid of is dying of thirst.”
“Because the river is so close?” Beck asked.
“That, and the ocean,” said Oliver, pointing east. “As long as I’m on this side of the mountains, it’ll never be more than a day or two away.”
“You want to drink from the ocean?” asked Beck.
“Sure,” Oliver confirmed. “But it seems like you think that’s a bad idea.”
“Perhaps,” said Beck. “Like you, I’ve never seen the ocean before this expedition. All I know about it I read in ancient books, or heard in stories from people who have been to this side of the mountain. I don’t know for sure, but it seems to me the water in the ocean is not drinkable.”
“Why?” asked Oliver. “Did the Ancients poison it?”
“I don’t know,” said Beck. “All I’ve heard is the water is too salty to drink.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” Oliver lifted his canteen and shook it to show Beck it was empty. “If salt is all I have to worry about, I’m going to try it.”
“Later today or tomorrow,” said Beck, “when we’re rested enough to venture out, we’ll go to the ocean, if for no other reason than to one day say we did.” Beck smiled broadly and looked at Oliver. “Do you know anyone who has seen the ocean?”
“I’ve only talked to a few people who know it exists. That is, outside of childhood stories nobody believes.”
“We’ll do it, then,” said Beck. “After that, what do you think? Will you go back to Brighton?”
“I don’t know,” said Oliver. “I don’t know that going back is a choice I have. I don’t think I can get through the pass. It’s sure to be full of demons following the trail of the army, don’t you think?”
“You may be right about that,” said Beck, putting some thought into it. “I’ve heard tell of paths through the mountains both south and north of here. They’re the paths taken by metal smugglers because they are shorter. The army had to take the long way because it needed the road. If we could find one of the paths, would you travel back with me? It will be safer for us both to go together than to go by ourselves.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to return to Brighton, if you don’t want,” said Beck. “I won’t force you, but at least if we get back to the other side of the mountains, you’ll be back among civilized men again. Even if you don’t return to Brighton, you can settle in one of the smaller towns or villages. What do you say?”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me,” Oliver said, weighing his options. “But I definitely want to see the ocean.”
Chapter 12: Fitzgerald
Returning from the marketplace, Fitz found Franklin sitting in the front pew of the congregation room, staring at the pulpit. His hand was poised above a notebook.
“I looked all over the Sanctuary for you,” Fitz said, worry in her voice.
“I’m sorry. I was just making some notes. I thought a lot about our conversation about The Word and The People’s devotion. I’m not convinced you’re right, but I’m trying to get a new perspective on how the townspeople hear sermons.” Franklin furrowed his brow and jotted something down. “I’m trying to understand what it is about what I say that bonds us together. Maybe that will also protect us.”
“Have you seen Tenbrook?” Fitz asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“No. And no soldiers, either.”
“That’s good.” Fitz blew a relieved breath. She sat down next to Franklin. She smiled.
“Most of my life, I’ve listened to Winthrop talk from up there,” Franklin gestured toward the pulpit. “I’ve sat apart from the congregates. I was lucky, or unlucky, to have that privilege from a young age.” Franklin grimaced as he thought that statement through. “When I was just a child, my parents were taken in the Cleansing. I remember standing on the dais while they were led away, too shocked to cry.”
“Is that why Winthrop took you in?”
Franklin nodded. “He mistook my shock for a heart of stone. I didn’t figure it out until later. If I’d cried, I probably would have gone to the orphanages like the others on that day.”
Franklin lowered his head.
“I’m sorry, Franklin. Do you remember much about your parents?”
“Only that they were farmers. I remember running in the fields with bare feet, thinking I could fly. I have a few memories of my mother and father tending the field, but not many. I think the distance has separated me from some of the people I’m talking to. I need to understand the parishioners better.”
“This sounds like a good way to do it.” Fitz patted his leg. “I’ve been finding things out at the market.”
“I get nervous about you leaving the Sanctuary.” Franklin furrowed his brow.
“If the novices went, I wouldn’t be able to find anything out.” Fitz looked behind her, verifying that no one was lurking by the door. Speaking in a whisper, she said, “I’ve been talking to some people, Franklin. I’ve been trying to understand the power of your transformation of The Word, and how that affects people. The burnings weakened people’s spirit, but I think the next sermon might be your biggest yet.”
“What do you mean?” Franklin asked, setting down his notebook.
“I’ve been gathering up some people,” she whispered.
Franklin’s eyes widened. “Already? You shouldn’t be doing that so soon after the burnings, Fitz.”
“Our discussions are about The Word,” Fitz returned. “Tenbrook can’t fault us for that. As you know, most people are compelled to come to the Sanctuary out of fear. But I’m trying a new approach. I think this one will work better.”
“What have you been telling them?” Franklin asked.
“I’m trying to earn their trust, so they continue attending because they want to, rather than out of guilt or fear,” Fitzgerald said. “We need people to participate—even the people from the other towns and villages, who might have never been to the Brighton sermons.”
Franklin nodded, still nervous. He looked around the room again, a habit since the burnings. “The quiet from Tenbrook makes me uneasy. H
e hasn’t called any Elders’ meetings yet. I assumed he would send for me.”
Fitz bit her lip. “Maybe he forgot about you.”
The look on Franklin’s face told her that he didn’t believe that. “I’m the only other Elder alive in town. I don’t trust him, Fitz.”
“Me neither. But for now, we should focus on making the next sermon the best one yet.” Fitz smiled and brushed Franklin’s shoulder. “I’ll tidy up some rooms while you take notes.”
“Okay, thanks,” Franklin said, trying to quell his worry.
Chapter 13: Ivory
Ivory was dozing, but he couldn’t keep from peering through the archway at Melora, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the next room. She pulled out a brush, quietly taking a few tangles from her hair. She didn’t notice he was awake. Ivory recalled some of Melora’s stories about her family’s encounters with demons in the woods. She seemed as tough as anyone he’d met. He smiled. Sensing his gaze, she turned and caught him staring.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” she called through the archway.
“No, I was just dozing.”
“I’m going to nap, too,” Melora admitted. She replaced the brush in her bag, pulled out a blanket, and spread it on the ground.
“Where are the others?”
“Downstairs.”
“I bet it’s nice to be with your family.” Ivory smiled.
“It is,” Melora said, but she averted her eyes. Was she hiding something? Or was she just tired?
“William showed me the sword he found.”
“I heard him showing you from the other room. He demonstrated for me while I was with him on the lower floor. It’s almost as big as he is.” Melora smiled. “He’s becoming quite intelligent about the woods. He’s learned a lot while we were traveling.”
“He definitely seems smart.” Ivory watched Melora settle underneath her blanket. “Your mother is nice. And Bray, too. Did you say you were related to him?”
