by Everly Frost
Michael leaned back on his heels. “She’s dead!”
Ruth’s face was pale. “He doesn’t believe us.”
Michael stared at her.
“He thinks we’re telling him tales to protect Ava. Even if we show him her body, he won’t believe us unless he sees the body for himself and there’s no way we’re taking her back to Evereach.” She waited for that to sink in. “He’s getting more desperate. Seversand knows he doesn’t have Ava anymore and they’re threatening him.”
“With what? What does Seversand have?” Michael rose to his feet. “My father was always saying it. Cheyne was always saying it: Seversand is the enemy. Seversand will destroy us. We have to protect ourselves.” He grabbed her shoulders, ignoring the men advancing on him with slumber plants raised.
Ruth held up her hand to stop them. “A mortality war, Michael.”
“How? Ava and Josh were the first. How can Seversand threaten a mortality war? Unless…” He trailed off, frowning.
“Yes, Michael. There are other mortals.”
Michael froze. The color left his face.
Ruth sighed. “Seversand discovered how to make a mortality weapon several years ago.” She waited for that to sink in. “Until then, it was a race that your father looked likely to win. But when they beat him to it … Well, that’s when he started compromising everything he believed in, all his values, and treated you and Ava very badly.”
“Did Ava know? That there were others like her?”
Ruth shook her head. “She didn’t know.”
But I do now.
“But you knew and you didn’t tell her.” He closed his eyes and I could tell he was suppressing his anger by the way he took several deep breaths before he spoke again. “How many mortals does Seversand have?”
“We don’t know for sure. But it only takes one with the right DNA.”
I glanced at Snowboy. How many others did Michael’s dad leave behind? Or had someone been born since?
Snowboy shook his head in answer, as if he didn’t know, but he didn’t quite meet my eyes.
Ruth lowered her voice. “Olander’s desperate. But don’t mistake his desperation for a desire to protect the people of Evereach. He finally has the power he wants over Evereach, only to have it threatened by Seversand. He will stop at nothing to find Ava. We’re preparing for an attack, Michael.”
“He can’t get past the defense system.”
“We can’t be sure of that anymore. Something’s happened to the moss. When it let you through with the mortality weapon, it changed everything.” She paused. “Our EMPs can stop machines, but they can’t stop people. The moss was supposed to do that. But now … we need to be prepared. You are ideally suited to that job. Other men may fall in war—long enough to be trapped—but you alone will remain standing. That fact alone could mean the difference between victory and defeat.”
She gestured one of the men forward and he lowered his slumber weapon as Michael eyed him with distrust. Michael’s expression seemed to say: As if that plant will control me. They’d struggled to keep him asleep during his surgery and that was when he’d wanted to be asleep.
“We have a special group here in Starsgard that we call the Protectors,” Ruth said. “A certain kind of warrior. If Ava were alive, I would never have suggested that you join them. But, quite frankly, they’re your kind of people. If you train with them, you’ll be doing what Ava always wanted: for you to use your strength to protect the innocent.”
“I wanted to protect Ava and I failed.”
The man held out his hand with a gleam in his eye. “Join us and you’ll never fail again.”
Finally, there was a spark of hope in Michael’s expression, something less hurt, a tiny shred of purpose.
He shook the man’s hand and I turned away from the screen. I exhaled all the dread I’d felt at the thought of Michael going after the mortality weapon. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him joining the Protectors, not when the mortals seemed to hate them so much, but if they gave Michael a purpose again, then I was willing to accept the possibility that that was a good thing. At least in the short tem.
Behind me on the screen, Ruth’s voice called out. “Ricardo, may I have a moment?”
I swung to see one of the men separate from the others who were headed to the elevator. He waved the rest of them on and they disappeared with Michael.
Ruth said, “I have a report from Councilor Zachary that a bear was seen south of the mountains.”
The man, Ricardo, was visibly surprised. “Has the sighting been confirmed?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to watch the mountains and come up with a plan if the bears approach a northern tower. If there are any more sightings, well, let me say there are only so many myths we can sustain before the truth comes to light. And if they attack…”
He’d gone pale. “We won’t let that happen.”
“No, you won’t. We both know that the bears can kill people should they wish to.”
I glanced at Snowboy, who appeared grim. The bears can kill people…
“Michael can help us,” Ricardo began.
“No.” Ruth’s response was sharp. “He mustn’t be sent anywhere near the northern mountains regardless of the cost.”
“Surely he’s ideally placed to defend against the bears—”
Her tone softened, but it sounded forced. “It’s for his own safety, Ricardo. You saw how fragile he is. If he learns that the bears are capable of killing immortals, he might be tempted to seek death out. I don’t want that. Nobody wants that. I want you to send him to the southwest border to monitor Evereach’s movements. If Olander intends to mount any kind of attack, I want Michael there.”
“I understand.”
“Thank you, Ricardo; that will be all.”
“Yes, Councilor.”
As he left the room, Ruth sank into a chair with her head in her hands.
I turned away from the screen as Snowboy turned it off.
“Ruth said the bears can kill people.”
Snowboy was nodding. “They’re super strong, Ava. We’ve read the files. Not even the nuclear bomb could separate people’s bodies, but the bears can literally rip people apart.”
I blanched. No wonder the others had always run from them. “I don’t want to know how they do that.”
Seeing my expression, Snowboy grimaced. “Enough said about it then.”
With one last glance at the screen and the space where Michael had been, I gathered all my hope for him inside my heart and kept it there. I had to believe that he would find a way to heal, the same way I had to believe that I would find my way back to him.
Snowboy took my hand and I almost cried at how comforting it was.
He said, “Let’s go.”
He tucked the leather bag under his arm again as we left the room and ascended the stairs. When we reached the dining room, he laid it on the table and unzipped it.
“Scissors,” he said, pulling them out. He patted his head with his free hand. “My hair grew long while I was away.”
I raised my eyebrows at his very short hair and his description of it as “long.” People in both Evereach and Starsgard kept their hair at regulated lengths. Mine wasn’t supposed to be any longer than my shoulders because I was sixteen, but every time I took nectar, it grew rapidly. Ruth had cut it only a month ago and it was halfway down my back again because of the nectar I’d taken since. But Snowboy, and in fact all of the boys, had short hair—the length of a baby’s hair by anyone’s standards.
I asked, “Why do you keep your hair so short?”
“Because we’re supposed to grow it long.”
He handed me the scissors. “You can cut yours too if you like.”
I took the scissors, allowing them to rest in my palm for a moment. “How long do you think we’ll live?”
“Without nectar, less than a hundred years. But with it? I guess
we’ll find out together.”
I gave the scissors back. “They made me cut my hair and I hated it. I think I’ll keep it long. The way I want it to be.”
He smiled and I knew he understood. “You’re free to make your own choices here.”
Chapter Twelve
WHILE SNOWBOY cut his hair, Quake returned and headed for the kitchen. I offered to help prepare lunch, but he pointed at the roster as though it was the law.
“It’s best if I do the cooking,” he said as he sliced bread and cheese. He disappeared into a room at the end of the kitchen and returned with a jar of relish.
“Do you make everything yourself?”
“Mostly.” He placed another slice on a platter that rested beside a bowl of lettuce. He inclined his head at the cold storage. “Take a look.”
I pushed open the swinging door at the opposite end of the kitchen and peered inside the room. It was cool, but not freezing—cold enough to keep things fresh. The shelves at eye-height were lined with jars of jams, chutneys, pickled vegetables, and tomato sauces of varying kinds. One section of shelving contained cheeses in different shapes. Baskets of fruits and vegetables lined the floor: onions, potatoes, carrots, apples and oranges. At the far end were large sacks of flour.
“Where do you get all this?”
“We grow it ourselves. There’s a small orchard and a large vegetable patch on one side of the tower. We keep the animals on the other side away from the tasty things they like to nibble. We spend most mornings tending to both. That’s where the others are now—catching up on chores. I spend every other afternoon preparing food. The only thing we can’t grow ourselves is the wheat.” His grin faded as he pointed to the large bags on the floor. “Luckily, Snowboy can get in and out of the nearest mill pretty quickly and we never take too much at a time.” He ended on an apologetic shrug as he lumbered back into the kitchen.
The others filed in one by one, quiet and subdued this time, carefully upending baskets of new food inside the cold storage. Quake handed each of them a large cup of water as they found a place at the table.
I joined them and made myself a sandwich from the platter Quake placed on the table. When they were all eating, I said, “I want to help too.”
Snowboy thought while he chewed. “I’ll show you around after lunch. Pip can come with us and show you the animals.”
Pip grinned. “Wanna learn how to milk a cow?”
I laughed. “Sure, why not?”
“We spend our mornings doing work—the orchard, animals, building repairs, any surveillance issues, you name it. In the afternoons, we take time out for ourselves.”
Quake grinned at that and I guessed that cooking was time out for him. Snowboy looked around the table. “I think we should each make some time to teach Ava what we know. From the little stuff to the big stuff. There’s a lot she needs to learn to protect herself.”
Each of the boys nodded agreement. Rift seemed on edge, distant, and was the last to nod. I wondered what could be bothering him, but it was impossible to read his mood.
“Like how to collect eggs without being pecked by an angry chicken,” Pip said in an exaggerated whisper.
“You’re the only one who succeeds at that.” Rift suddenly laughed and I was surprised at how his face lit up with his smile, as though it chased away the shadows.
After lunch, I ascended with Snowboy and Pip into the outside. Snowboy first showed me the orchard and vegetable patch, which was situated in a clearing along a path several hundred feet away from the tower and set inland from the cliffs. After that, we headed back past the tower, past the magnolia tree, to the other side, where the animals were kept.
The pathway toward the animals stopped at a gate and Snowboy pointed out that the fence ran about half a mile in each direction. Like the vegetable patch, the barn was several hundred feet from the tower and situated farther inland. Next to it was a chicken coop that reminded me of an elaborate child’s cubby house with a large grassy pen enclosed in wire mesh, where the chickens scratched and clucked.
The two cows shaded themselves under a nearby tree and Pip went straight to them, stroking their necks.
“Michael’s dad got in and out of here somehow,” I said as we strolled toward the animals. “Do the others remember anything about how they came here?”
“Rift said he remembers getting to the base of the Starsgardian mountains, but nothing after that. Everything’s a blank until they woke up on this side of the border.”
“Maybe he used the slumber plant on them. It’s a plant that makes people fall asleep. I don’t know how he carried three boys across the border, though—or got past the moss. Even for him, that seems impossible.”
As we made our way over to Pip, the younger boy stiffened, his head tilted to the side.
“Something’s wrong,” he said. “It’s Rift.”
We stilled. There was a sound behind us—a distant shout twisting and echoing before it was suddenly cut off.
Snowboy grabbed Pip. “Where is he?”
Pip shut his eyes, concentrating for a moment, and pointed toward the cliffs. “Moss. A hundred feet left of the marsh.”
“Oh, no. He went by himself.” Snowboy took off at a run, leaping over the fence without opening the gate. “Ava, come with me! You can help.” His voice faded as he disappeared into the trees.
“I’ll get Quake,” Pip shouted.
I raced after Snowboy. I wasn’t sure how much nectar was left in my body, but I had the pouch in my pocket and I knew I’d have to assess the danger once I got there.
As I approached the edge of the cliff behind the tower, the fuel marsh was on my right, closer to the tower than any fuel marsh in the south had been. Despite the speed at which I was running, the movement within the water was unmistakable.
It was full of bugs. Crammed with them. There were so many that the water swarmed, rippling in all directions. The marsh had expanded beyond its own borders, the far side of it reaching the edge of the cliff.
My heart pounded and I sucked in a sharp breath. There was a rock wall around the marsh that was about waist height and I assumed the boys had put that up for safety. Whatever the larger thing inside the marsh was, I couldn’t stop to examine it.
I kept running, veering left where I made out Snowboy’s form disappearing along the pathway next to the edge of the cliff. I told myself not to look down and stayed as far away from the edge as I could. On my left was a row of trees and on my right was a sheer drop.
Up ahead, Snowboy had stopped around a hundred feet along where Pip had said, and Blaze ran up from the opposite direction.
“I heard a shout,” Blaze called as he approached Snowboy. “What’s wrong?”
“Pip said it was Rift. Can you see him?”
Both boys ventured to the edge, trying to see over it. They were standing much too close to the edge, way too close to the moss.
“How long do you think his nectar will last?” Blaze asked.
“Against the moss? Not long enou—”
Two vines as thick as my arms flew out of nowhere, barely missing me.
The vines snatched both boys around their waists and wrenched them over the edge.
Chapter Thirteen
I COULDN’T hear anything. There were no shouts, no sounds of a struggle. Not Snowboy, or Blaze, or even Rift. The cliff was eerily quiet and I was alone on it.
I shivered, holding all my fear inside, feeling like it would burst from me at any moment. I had to stay calm. I was the only one who’d ever touched the moss without being hurt by it. Even Michael had suffered agony when he was trapped by it. I couldn’t let myself think about what my new brothers were feeling right then. I had to block it out or I’d fall into a screaming heap.
Focus, Ava. What do you need to do?
First I had to get close enough to see where they were. Without knowing their location, there was no way I could help them. If the moss had thrown them into the ocean, that would almost be a relief, even
though they’d have to climb back up the cliff. But if that were the case, they would have shouted on the way down and they hadn’t.
More likely, the moss had trapped them, the same way it had with Michael—in a cage of thorns, slowly torturing him. The moss had let Michael go when he gave up the mortality weapon, but it had attacked my new brothers without reason. Or at least, none that I knew of.
I glanced back along the pathway, but running back to the tower would take at least five minutes. The moment I discarded that plan, to my relief, Pip and Quake appeared.
I shouted. “Get back!”
Pip heard me and grabbed Quake before he neared the edge.
“The moss has gone wild,” I whispered, knowing Pip would hear me across the distance. “It pulled Snowboy and Blaze down too. I’m the only person, mortal or otherwise, who’s touched the moss and remained unharmed. I’m glad you’re here, but tell Quake to stay back.”
Pip nodded across the distance, but Quake paced like an angry bear, arguing with the little boy. I understood his frustration. I could feel it in my skin and bones. Not being able to protect the people I loved. It was the same feeling I had about Michael, wanting him to be okay, to not give up on his life.
I pulled the nectar gum from my pocket and chewed on it, focusing again on the feeling of loss, of being empty inside. The emptiness immediately drained the fire.
The moss had immobilized even someone as immortal as Michael. It was a deadly weapon designed to take down any threat. I shook off the memory of how he’d roared with pain as the poisonous plant had injected him with pain enhancers and eaten away at his body with acid.
