He appeared out of nowhere, a flash of color and movement, a massive fist ramming into my chest hard enough that it would have killed me if I hadn’t twisted aside at the last moment. My legs went out from under me and I somersaulted backwards, landing facedown on the crumbling cobblestone street. The rifle whirled into the air, making a clanking sound as it struck the ground somewhere behind me.
The sentinel loomed over me. In a daze, I pushed back to my feet and Overseer Rutherford appeared behind him. “This is the one?” the sentinel said in a booming voice.
Rutherford smiled. “Yes, she’s the one.”
“I told you it was her.”
“You will be rewarded, Wulvar. Kill her.”
Wulvar. Somehow I knew this was Wulvine’s brother. My suspicion was confirmed when I saw the look in his eyes as he stepped forward, reaching out to take me by the throat. As that cold mechanical hand closed around my throat and lifted me off my feet, I saw his brother’s eyes staring back at me.
It sent a shiver down my spine, seeing life in those eyes again. The last time I’d seen Wulvine, he’d been wearing the wide-eyed, hazy stare of a man gone to the next world. I clutched at Wulvar’s arm, trying to hold my weight so my neck wouldn’t snap. I managed to cough out the words: “You look like someone I used to know.”
Wulvar didn’t seem to appreciate my dark humor. He threw me backwards. Once again, the sky and earth spun through my vision as I somersaulted down the street. I landed hard, but this time I was ready. I caught myself on the way down, my limbs absorbing the impact as I dropped to all fours. I stopped inches from the ground, muscles coiled, my reflexes like a panther ready to spring.
I glanced back and forth between them, sharp, calculating… I pushed to my feet and ran the other way.
I knew better than to take on the two of them. I knew from years of experience that the only way to kill a sentinel was to outsmart him. That was what had worked in the past, and it was the only thing I could hope to do now. I turned and ran, focusing all of that energy and terror into an all-out sprint. I was a dozen yards away before either of them could even react.
“Go!” Rutherford shouted as I vanished into the shadows. “Get her!”
A smiled tugged at the corners of my mouth as I leapt over the crumbling walls and foundations, my mind easily recalling the paths I’d walked when searching for parts to repair the boneshaker. I knew this place.
No, it was more than that. It was more than my own memory, it was the memory of the ghosts that surrounded me. It was the thousands of victims of the Vangar horde guiding me. The ruins of Anora had always had a sense of cold isolation about them, a somberness like that of a graveyard under the full moon, but suddenly all that changed. Suddenly, it seemed I knew these streets as if I had lived there. I knew the buildings, the alleys, the dark secret passages that time had forgotten. And I knew exactly where to lead the sentinel.
A strange sound filled my ears like the roar of a crowd, like the sound of a thousand ancestors calling out to me at once. I followed, for there was nothing else I could do. I led the sentinel deeper into the city, through dark crumbling alleyways and past abrupt, tilted walls. I led him across the broken foundations and rotten timbers, through the scattered ruins of all the lives that his kind had destroyed. Somehow, without even knowing where I was going, I led him to an ancient factory.
I faltered as I entered that old building. It was a dark, dreary place. A cold chill crawled across my skin as I stepped through the open doorframe and saw cobwebs dangling like sheets from the rotten timbers, glistening gray in the broken starlight that filtered down through the holes in the roof. Old pieces of rust-covered machinery rose like monsters out of the inky blackness. I felt my chest tighten and the sound in my ears faded, leaving only the heavy drumming of my heartbeat.
I moved through the machinery, trying to find a way through the back of the building to make my escape. Spider webs tugged at my face, clinging to my hair and my skin. I pulled at them, shivering as they stuck to me. Behind me, I heard the heavy thudding footsteps of the sentinel approaching the doorway. Finding no escape and no decent place to hide, I dropped to my knees behind an old lathe.
I watched the sentinel’s shadowy form as he moved into the building. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I sensed a hesitation to his movements. I wondered if he too, felt the presence of all those ghosts.
A light came on. The sentinel had activated some sort of lantern built into the machinery of his body. The beam cut through the darkness like a single golden ray of sunlight. It moved back and forth, flashing across the old broken machines and the fallen sections of roof, illuminating the slow-moving motes of dust in the air as if they were hovering there, waiting for the light to put them on display.
And my tracks, I thought, wincing. If there was that much dust in the place, then I had left tracks. And the sentinel would easily follow them right to me. I almost sensed him smiling as he tilted his head, gazing at the footprints leading across the floor. I could imagine what he must have been thinking. This girl, this stupid human had led him right into her hiding place. Worse yet, I’d chosen a hiding place with no way to escape!
He took a step, and then another, and I shrank as I realized he was coming straight for me. My eyes were wide with fear, glistening with moisture as I searched the back wall. There was no door, no window, not even a ventilation hatch. I was trapped in that dark and dreary corner. I craned my neck around the lathe, stealing a glimpse at the sentinel. What I saw, I’ll never forget.
As I moved, a sudden cacophony of noise filled my ears. It was the sound of band saws and drill presses, of lathes and anvils and saws coming to life all at once. The light of the sentinel’s lantern flickered, strobing, flashing back and forth erratically. In the moments that followed, I still can’t be sure exactly what it was that I witnessed. It seemed to me that the machinery itself came alive, that pipes and wires whipped out, tugging at the sentinel’s limbs. I saw him falling to the ground. Perhaps I even saw something dragging him forward, hauling this massive abomination of flesh and machine deeper into the factory.
Regardless of what I saw or thought I saw, I will never forget the sound of his screams as the machinery began chewing through his armor. I saw flashes of light, sparks thrown from a saw blade. I heard the unmistakable sound of a large drill press, and I heard the sentinel screaming like a man suddenly confronted by the darkest nightmares of his deepest fever dreams.
I didn’t wait to see the end result. I leapt to my feet and broke into a run, the danger of exposure forgotten. I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I flew past the machines, my heart thudding in my ears as the light flickered against the walls. I burst through the doorway, leaping into the street, and ran to the far corner before I found the courage to stop and turn around.
It was over. I was outside, safe. The light was gone, the screaming nothing more than an echo in my mind. I saw nothing inside that doorway except an impenetrable wall of darkness.
I stood there a moment catching my breath, trying to banish the terrifying screams and visions from my mind. Then I heard a noise behind me, and it was every bit as horrifying as the sound of the sentinel’s screams: Click, whir, thump!
I twisted around and saw Rutherford standing in the shadows along the edge of the street. His face twisted into a crooked smile and I saw starlight glinting on the machinery that allowed him to speak. “I gave Wulvar his chance,” he said. “Now it’s my turn.”
I turned and ran. Whatever had happened in that building was forgotten as I flew down the street and turned the corner, my eyes roving the darkness for some safe place to hide. “I’ve missed you, River,” the overseer called out behind me. “Don’t you remember the wonderful times we had?”
I heard the strain in his voice, the thump of his footsteps as he tried to match my pace. The overseer was gifted with strength, but only on one side of his body. His mortal weakness remained, and he was no sentinel. He couldn’t keep up with m
e.
This knowledge did little to comfort me as I turned another corner and raced back towards the center of the city. Part of me thought of the factory, and I wondered if I should lead Rutherford back there. Were the ghosts still there? Would they do to him what they had done to the sentinel? No, I didn’t think so. Somehow I had a feeling that their bloodlust had been sated, at least for tonight. It didn’t matter anyway. I wouldn’t go back there for all the Blackrock steel in the kingdom.
I turned another corner and broke into a run down a long straight street. Bright starlight fell down on the rooftops, glistening in the moisture on the tiles and moss. Dark shadows cut across the street, frost glinting at the edges of the walls and shadowy corners.
Suddenly, I found myself somewhere familiar, some place that I knew. I was standing over the trap door that led into the tunnels. I wasn’t sure how exactly I had gotten there.
My mind flashed back to the night of Tinker’s death. Nausea gripped me. This was exactly how it had happened. I’d led the sentinels right to him. Somehow, I had repeated that same foolish mistake with Analyn.
I threw my gaze around, mystified. How had I gotten there? I couldn’t recall. Some part of my mind had taken over, some subconscious instinct that guided me back into safe territory. Only this wasn’t safe. This was the way to our queen! My foolish mistake would cost her life just as surely as it had cost Tinker’s.
Click, whir, thump.
Rutherford appeared on the street behind me. I heard his deep, rattling breath and his heavy, uneven steps. It was too late then to make a choice. I thrust open the trap door and leapt inside, dropping catlike to the floor of the tunnel. As soon as I felt the dirt under my boots, I broke into a run. Rutherford dropped heavily to the ground behind me.
“You think you can run?” he shouted. “You can’t hide from me!”
I didn’t respond. My instincts had taken over, and all I could do was flee. A panic gripped me, a memory of all the things Rutherford had done to me when I was his captive in Juntavar. I struggled to push those thoughts from my mind. I needed to think. I needed to find a way to stop him. Step by step, yard by yard I brought him closer to Analyn’s tunnel. I saw the light growing in the distance, and I saw movement.
Analyn’s shadowy silhouette appeared in front of me, and I reached for the lantern in her hand. “Put out the light!” I screamed. Then I turned and went racing down the tunnel, hoping to guide Rutherford away from her. Analyn must have obeyed my command, for I heard the overseer’s heavy breathing as he pursued me deeper into the tunnels. He must have run right past her.
I pressed on, running just fast enough to stay out of Rutherford’s reach, but not so fast that he might lose track of my light. When I came to a fork, I went to the left. When I came to another, I went left again.
At last, I found what I was looking for. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I saw the blackness in the earth open up ahead, but I knew that there was no turning back. Instead of slowing, I put on a burst of speed. Then the ground unfolded in front of me and I leapt into the air, vaulting over the chasm. For one breathless moment I was airborne, with nothing between me and that gaping black chasm, and then I landed safely on the far side.
I paused there for a moment, holding the lantern. I looked back, waiting to see if Rutherford was still in pursuit. He was. Half a second later, he came around the corner. I broke into a run in the opposite direction. I heard his laughter echoing up and down the tunnel around me.
“You can’t run from me, River. I’m stronger than you. I’m stronger than your mother. I can chase you to the end of the-”
And then he found the end.
I stopped and turned to face him as Rutherford slid over the edge of the chasm. I saw the moment of surprise on his face, the cruel twisted smile that bled into terror as the ground vanished under his feet. He reached out and found no handhold as he tumbled forward and vanished.
I jogged closer, anxious to see if I had actually succeeded in killing him. As I stepped up to the ledge, I saw Rutherford hanging by the barest thread of a root clutched in his robotic arm. His human hand clawed desperately at the dirt walls, searching in vain for a more stable handhold. “Help!” he screamed as I looked down at him. “Help me!”
I looked into his face, thinking of the things he had done to me, letting the memories wash over me. I glanced at that metallic fist and remembered what it felt like crashing into my body. I locked eyes with him.
“Take back what you said,” I said, still trying to catch my breath.
His eyes widened. “What?”
“I’m not weak. My mother isn’t weak. We’re stronger than you, Overseer.”
He considered that for a second and then nodded emphatically. “Yes, you’re strong. You’re both strong. I’m the one who’s weak. Now help me!”
I stared at him, frowning. “That’s not enough.”
He grimaced, the sad look on his face giving way to fury. “You stupid whore! When I get out of here, I’m going to kill you!”
I shook my head, giving him a pitiful look. “Rutherford, you’re not getting out of there. Not ever.”
His anger became blind rage. He lashed out, even though it was obvious he couldn’t reach me from that distance. Failing that, he kicked and clawed at the dirt, trying to climb up out of the pit. He muttered and cursed under his breath, spittle dripping from his lips as he shouted. He kicked and twisted. The root holding his weight began to shift. It made a cracking sound, and his eyes widened. Suddenly, he became very still.
Slowly, Rutherford raised his eyes to look at me. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Click, whir, thump. The root gave way, and he went tumbling backwards into the abyss. Darkness swallowed him. I watched him vanish, a multitude of emotions surfacing as he disappeared from sight.
I held the lantern out over the ledge, scanning the darkness for something. For anything. For a sign of whether he was truly gone or not. Five seconds passed. Ten. Fifteen. And suddenly, I heard the distant echoing crash of metal folding in upon itself. I heard the soft wheezing of a machine crushed under its own weight.
Click, whir… click…
And then silence. A smile broke out on my face. “I knew there was a bottom,” I said into the darkness.
Chapter 12
I returned to Analyn’s cave to be sure she was safe. She was rekindling the fire when I entered. I returned the lantern to its normal place on the table and stood a moment watching her. She didn’t speak until I turned to leave, and she once again tried to stop me.
“Stay here,” she said. “Let the rest of it play out. You’ve done your part.”
“I’m not going to let them have all the fun.”
“There’s not going to be any fun,” she said seriously. “If your friends make it across the mountains ahead of the Vangars, then they’ll have to get through the Wastes also. They’ll have to keep moving through ice and snow, day and night, with no food or shelter and only the clothes on their backs.”
“You make it sound hopeless.”
She didn’t answer. She simply stared into the flames.
“You may be right,” I said. “It doesn’t matter. I’d rather die with them, knowing that I did what I could. I’d rather that, than live knowing I did nothing.”
She sighed heavily as she settled into her rocker. “I understand. You couldn’t live with yourself if you lost him.”
“Crow is my brother,” I said.
“I didn’t mean Crow.” She turned to give me a deliberate stare and I felt an uneasy fluttering in my stomach, as if she had just revealed my deepest secret.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.
She laughed quietly. “Of course not. It has nothing to do with Kale then, I suppose.”
“Of course it does! He’s my oldest friend.”
“Is he?” she said with a wily sparkle in her eyes. “And nothing more?”
“Of course not. He’s like… like a brother to me.”
> Analyn laughed aloud. She leaned back in her rocker, shaking her head. “Just like your mother,” she muttered. “Just like her.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“All right, then. I suppose I’d better tell you how to get back to the camp.”
“The mountain camp? Where I was born?”
“The very same. I told Crow to bring the others there. I told him they would find weapons and shelter. That is where they will confront the sentinels.”
I frowned. “Confront them? What do you mean by that? I thought the whole point was to lead the Vangars to Sanctuary.”
“It was. Unfortunately, the sentinels are too fast. The rebels must meet the sentinels on their own terms. If the sentinels were to overtake them in the snow…” Her voice drifted off because she didn’t need to describe what would happen. She was right. The slaves were a good fighting force, but they were tired and starved. They’d be lucky to make it through the Wastes on their own, much less pursued by a dozen or more sentinels.
“Can they do it?” I said. “Will they have what they need to fight off the sentinels?”
“At least in the mountains, they’ll have a chance,” Analyn said. “It’s been many years and I don’t know what supplies are left at the camp. It’s their only hope.”
“If this works and they do defeat the sentinels, our plan is still ruined. There will be no one to follow the rebels to Sanctuary.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem. No, if our little rebellion succeeds in this battle, we’ll have the Vangars’ full attention. They will keep coming. It will only be a matter of time until they reach Sanctuary. We simply must be sure the rebels reach it first.”
Blood and Steam (The Tinkerer's Daughter) Page 15
