Outliers

by Kate L. Mary

  This had been one of the hardest days of my life.

  Someone moved to my side, and I looked up as Ontari knelt next to me. “You were right when you said she gave you no choice. If you were to let this go, she would have been able to rally her supporters. She would have found more people to stand with her. This was the only way.”

  “This or putting her to death.” I looked at the blood on my hands again.

  It was not the first time blood had stained my hands, and it would not be the last. It was the hardest, though.

  “It does get easier,” Ontari said, as if reading my thoughts.

  “Does it?” I asked then shook my head. “I do not know if that makes the whole thing better or worse.”

  The Huni Head sighed as she looked up, focusing on the bubble in the distance. The sun was high now, nearly right over top of us, and it shone down on her shaved head as she ran her hand over it.

  Most of our army had left, retreating into the wilds now that there was no battle to be fought, but I could not leave. I used the excuse of my weakened state, but that was not it. Partly it was because I could not stomach the idea of leaving when Asa was still inside those walls, but I was also afraid of how my people were going to react to what I had done here today. Mira supported me. She, along with Arkin, had escorted Emori from the valley after the punishment, and I knew she was not the only one who would stand by me. Atreyu had given my arm a gentle squeeze before leaving, and my sister had hugged me even as she cried. Others had shown signs of support as well. Tris, Gaia, Zadie, and Cera. But I was under no delusions about what would happen next. Emori would have supporters—Linc if no one else—and they would cause problems.

  “I have been Head for only seven years,” Ontari said, breaking the silence. “I took over after our last Head died, killed during a grizzard attack. It was not what I planned, but during the fight I killed more animals than anyone else, stayed standing even though I had been given what should have been a fatal blow.” She paused so she could push her clothing aside, revealing her flat stomach and the scar that ran from her belly button to her left hip. Then she smiled. “Think about how much the fangs in your neck hurt, and then imagine what it took to put me back together after this.”

  My hand moved to my neck, my fingers running over the fangs piercing my skin. I counted them as I did. Seven. At the time, it had felt like hundreds of pricks, and I could not imagine what Ontari had gone through to close such a large wound.

  “I was young,” she continued as she once again covered her stomach. “Just past my twenty-fifth year. But when it came time to elect a new Head, my tribe chose me. I did not think I was up to the task, and when a man twice my age challenged me only two weeks later, I felt certain I had been right to doubt my abilities.”

  “What did he do?” I asked, hoping her story would give me some comfort.

  “When the Huni elect a new Head, it is for life, but anyone in the tribe can contest the decision during the first month. If that happens, the Head and the challenger must fight.” Ontari looked down before saying, “To the death.”

  “You killed him,” I said.

  “If I had not, I would be dead myself.” Ontari lifted her gaze so her eyes were focused on mine. “That does not mean I enjoyed the feel of my spear sinking into his stomach. That does not mean I liked the sight of his blood soaking into the dry earth. But, had I died, he would have taken my place and the month would have started over. Someone else could have challenged him for the position, and if they had won, the month would have started over again. You see, by being strong and doing what I had to do, I kept my tribe together. And because I won, no one else challenged me. I earned their respect, and it made us stronger.”

  “I understand,” I said, “but we were once Winta. We were not violent, we did not hunt for sport the way the Huni and Mountari do, and I am not sure if my people will react the same way your people would. I am not sure if my people will be able to accept what I have done.”

  “You are not Winta anymore, Indra. You are Windhi. Do not forget that. The people in your tribe chose to follow you for a reason. Because they see strength in you. Because you have been able to make decisions that, while not easy, have been for the good of all Outliers. Do not forget that.”

  She was right. Deep down, I knew she was.

  After the Winta were first wiped out, I resisted taking my new tribe into the wilds to hunt the Fortis because I thought they could not handle it, but they had proved me wrong. Time and time again, they had shown me how strong and resilient they are. Hopefully, this would be no different.

  “I hope you are right,” I simply said.

  “I am.” Ontari turned her gaze from me, once again focusing on the city. “I hope your man is okay.”

  When I swallowed, the fangs once again pulled at my skin. The pain was a reminder of what Emori had almost done, and it helped to push some of my guilt away. She had forced my hand.

  The words Mira whispered as Asa climbed into the tunnel came back to me, and I did my best to cling to them. “He would destroy the whole city by himself before he allowed the Sovereign to keep him from getting back to you.”

  “He will be,” I said confidently. “He is strong enough to survive anything the Sovereign throw at him, and he will do whatever it takes to open the gate.”

  Ontari only nodded.

  Footsteps scraped against the ground at my back, and I turned to find Kale, the Mountari healer, heading our way. When he reached us, he knelt before me so he could inspect my wound.

  “How is it?” I asked.

  I had not seen the cut with my own eyes, but I could imagine how it looked and knew it would not be pretty. Not that I was concerned with such things. Compared to the scars on my back, this would look like a scratch.

  “It has stopped bleeding,” the healer said.

  I winced when his fingers brushed against it.

  He stood and motioned for me to do the same. “We should clean it. Come with me to the lake.”

  When I started to stand, Ontari reached out to help me. While my body was still weak from the loss of blood, I did not think I needed her aid, but I allowed her to take my arm anyway. It was better to get help than to fall because I overestimated my strength. Most of the army had returned to the wilds, but I had no desire to allow the people left to see me as weak.

  Once I was up, Ontari’s hands fell away. She did not leave my side, but instead walked with me toward the edge of the pond. Roan joined us as well, and flanked by the two other Heads, I felt stronger. They supported what I had done even if no one else did, and they had been leaders for much longer than I had. Not only that, but they were good leaders. Respected by their tribes. They knew what it was to make tough decisions for the good of their people.

  We had been resting in the shadows of the Lygan Cliffs, out of the sun’s hot rays, and as we walked, more of the city came into view. In front of it, what was left of the Fortis village sat, the ruins dark against the dry earth of the wastelands. The charred remains were yet another reminder of how much blood was on my hands, and the grizzards picking through the remnants in search of bodies to feast on were another. The people who used to live in that village had been a stain on this earth, not even worth the air they breathed, but I was starting to believe that when my time came, God would judge me just as harshly as He judged them. And when that happened, I would join the men and woman who had died by my hands, and side by side we would burn for eternity in the underworld.

  Because the village sat so close to the wall, the bubble covering the city cut through the remnants, engulfing what had once been an entire row of houses. Movement inside the bubble caught my eye, and I stopped, squinting against the bright sun as I tried to figure out what it was. It took a moment, but when I saw a flash of black, I knew.

  “There’s a grizzard,” I said, motioning toward the city. “Stuck inside the bubble.”

  Ontari and Roan turned, and together we watched silently as the bird paced in
front of the bubble. After a moment, it took off, trying to fly up in hopes of freeing itself, but all it succeeded in doing was slamming into the nearly invisible wall. A burst of black feathers flew into the air, and the bird dropped to the ground, unmoving. Even more interesting was the ripple that started where the bird had made contact. It moved over the whole bubble, reminding me of a drop of rain falling into a puddle.

  Once the ripple had disappeared, I focused on the bird again, waiting for it to move. It did not.

  “Is it dead?” Ontari asked.

  I stared at the bird for a few beats longer, but when it still did not move, I studied the bubble again, remembering the moment it had appeared. How the hum had started, low at first, reminding me of the sound the electroprods made. The noise had grown louder as the seconds ticked by, echoing across the wastelands until it seemed as if the ground would shake. A brilliant light had begun to glow, emanating from the tower sitting in the center of the mirrors. It had been blinding, brighter than the sun. A boom had vibrated through the air then, followed by a burst of light shooting from the tower and spreading across the wastelands toward the wall. I had felt the electricity from it moving over my body. That was when the bubbles appeared. One over the city and another smaller one over the tower and mirrors.

  “They are electric,” I said, turning to face the other Heads. “Like the electroprods the Sovereign carry, the bubble will shock anyone who touches it. Only I would guess it is much stronger.” I looked back toward the still unmoving bird. “Strong enough to kill.”

  The confusion in Roan’s and Ontari’s eyes rang loud and clear. Unlike me, they had not worked in the city, so they had only a vague understanding of electricity. And they had never seen the Sovereign’s favorite toy, the electroprod.

  Just thinking about the little stick caused my stomach to twist. It was such a small thing, so innocent looking. I remember my first day in the city, seeing the Sovereign men and women walking down the street, covered in thick robes to protect their delicate skin from the sun, the electroprod in their hands. I had been told many times by my mother what to expect before going into the city, and I had been warned how dangerous the devices were, but as an Outlier who had not yet witnessed the wonders of the technology left over from the old world, I was unable to completely comprehend it.

  It did not take long for me to learn, though.

  On my second day, I was out running errands with another Outlier from Saffron’s house, learning the layout of the city, when a Fortis guard angered a Sovereign man. The guard, who was twice the size of most of the Sovereign, towered over the man in front of him, but it had taken only the slightest touch of the electroprod for him to fall to the ground. The screams he let out had made the hair on my arms stand on end. He had writhed on the ground, twisting like he had no control of his body, while the Sovereign man stood over him, smiling.

  “Electricity is a difficult thing to explain to someone who has not seen it,” I said to the other Heads. “It is much more than just lights that flick on at the touch of a switch, and it can be dangerous.” I waved to the bubble. “It can kill if you are not careful, or if it has been engineered for that purpose.”

  “So you think the bubble is more than just a way to keep us out?” Roan asked. “That it could also kill us if we touched it?”

  I exhaled. “I do.”

  “How do we destroy it, then?” Ontari asked.

  My gaze moved to the smaller bubble, the one surrounding the tower. If we had destroyed those mirrors, this would not have happened. I was certain of it.

  “I do not know,” was all I could say in response.

  We continued to the lake in silence, not stopping until we reached the edge of the water. Here the grass was green and thick, and the surrounding trees had branches that were heavy with leaves. In the distance, however, close to where the lake ended, the green died away and the wastelands started. There the earth was dry and cracked. Nothing grew, and the trees were little more than sun-bleached trunks, their bare arms reaching toward the sky as if begging for a reprieve from the sun.

  I knelt beside the pond, using the cool water to rinse the blood from my neck and chest. In the rippling reflection below me, I was able to get a good look at the cut for the first time. It was an ugly gash that ran halfway across my throat, made even more repulsive by the fangs pierced through my skin. I ran my fingers over them again, feeling the bumps as I stared at my reflection. Emori’s actions would stay with me forever, acting as a reminder that I should never let my guard down.

  Kale gave the cut a onceover. “It will heal.”

  “Good,” I said, returning to the water.

  I had just finished washing myself clean when I spotted Mira in the valley, heading my way. Atreyu was with her, which was a welcome sight, but the expression on their faces told me the news would not all be good. When I moved their way, the two other Heads followed, but they remained silent. Like me, they probably knew bad news was coming.

  “Nothing has changed?” Mira asked when we met in the valley.

  I shook my head, my gaze moving briefly to the bubble in the distance. “Not here.” I paused, lifting my eyebrows questioningly before saying, “And in the caves?”

  Mira let out a long, deep breath. “Linc and a few others have left.”

  “To join Emori?” I asked even though I knew it already.

  “Yes,” Mira said.

  My gaze moved to Atreyu. “You did not go?”

  “I did not.” He exhaled as he shook his head. “I do not pretend to understand everything you have done, Indra, but I know all of it was intended to help our people, and I can see it has made us stronger.” He looked back at the other Outliers gathered in the valley. “Look at what you have accomplished. No one has ever done anything like this, and man or woman, that is not something to be taken lightly.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” I said before turning my focus on Mira again. “Who has left?”

  “None of the original Windhi,” she said reassuringly. “Most of the men we saved from the Fortis village, as well as some of the women. Ten people in addition to Emori.”

  Most of the men were gone. If it were not for the Fortis who had joined us, as well as our newfound alliance with the other Outlier tribes, I would worry more about that. We needed men if we wanted to grow in numbers. With things the way they were, though, I decided not to concern myself over the men who had abandoned us. I had no desire to keep people around who did not want to be a part of our tribe.

  Still, this put us in a precarious position when we were already in a dangerous place.

  “They will want retribution,” I said.

  “Yes,” Mira whispered.

  I exhaled, trying to focus on the now. “We will worry about that later. For now, we need to think about what our next move will be.”

  Together, Mira and I turned to face Sovereign City and the bubble now encasing it.

  8

  Asa

  Light burst into the room when the door was flung open, causing both Nyko and myself to duck away from it. My eyes were still closed when a rough hand grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet, and the grunt that followed told me my friend wasn’t far behind.

  The hall was blindingly bright, but my eyes seemed to adjust a little more with each step I took. By the time we’d reached the door leading out into the square, I was barely squinting, making the sight in front of me more vivid than I ever would have wanted.

  Xandra was in the center of the platform, kneeling like she was waiting for an execution. Maybe she was. Maybe we were all on the way to an execution. Maybe we had been fools to ever think we could defeat the Sovereign in the first place.

  At the Outlier’s side stood Lysander, and to his left his mother, Saffron.

  Like all the Sovereign, she was a short woman, although not as round as most. Her pale skin was covered by the thick robe the people living here always wore when out in the sun, the hood pulled up over her head, but her gray eyes seemed
cold enough to penetrate the dark shadow cast across her face.

  Too engrossed in a heated discussion, neither she nor her son seemed aware that Nyko and I had arrived. Not that I cared. I wasn’t in a hurry to have their attention on us. There was zero chance we were going to make it out of this encounter unscathed.

  “We can’t sustain this type of energy for long,” Saffron was saying as I was pulled across the platform and toward the waiting people.

  “It’s short term, I know.” Lysander huffed out the words in a tone of impatience that most men inside the city never would have dared to use with a woman like Saffron.

  “It’s not even short term,” his mother barked. “You had no right to turn it on, not without approval from the council.”

  “I’m tired of sniveling before the council like I’m no better than the drunken fool you bound yourself to,” Lysander snapped in return.

  “You’re a man,” his mother replied. “You have no authority here.” She waved to the stocks, which were now empty. “You know as well as I do that punishments aren’t only reserved for Outliers. Don’t force Paizlee’s hand.”

  I was shoved to my knees at Xandra’s side, and Nyko fell a moment after I did. My focus half on the arguing Sovereign, I took the moment to look both my friend and the Outlier woman over. Nyko was bruised and bloodied but held himself up as if determined to show our captors his strength. Xandra, like my friend, had clearly taken a beating—or two. She stared at the ground, not even lifting her head to look my way, and once again I found myself wondering if she had given up hope.

  “Paizlee is my mother-in-law now.” Lysander’s tone made it seem like he thought his mother was a fool. “I know how to handle her.”