by Bobby Adair
He collided with a floor of flat stone. Bruised, scraped and trying to catch his breath, he realized he’d stopped. Around him was darkness. High above him, sunlight poured in through the hole he’d created. He cursed himself for his carelessness. Stepping on that piece of wood was a mistake that could’ve killed him. It still might.
Ivory listened for the sounds of demons in the darkness around him. He heard nothing.
He waited and didn’t move.
Not even small animals hid in the permanent shadows down here. Or they did and they were frightened into silence by the intruder.
Birds twittered in the air outside.
Ivory was sure he was alone.
He sat up and wiggled his fingers and toes. He bent his elbows and knees. Then he took a deep breath. He touched his hand to his head. He’d gotten a good bump while tumbling. Only a tiny bit of blood came back on his fingers. He’d gotten lucky. Nothing seemed broken, and nothing was bleeding—at least not bleeding enough to worry over.
Peering into the darkness, Ivory got to his hands and knees, then to his feet. Despite years of ancient dirt and fallen debris, the floor was well preserved, patterned in an array of colors and designs—all finer than anything he’d seen in Brighton and covering the entire space around him. When the building above had collapsed all those years ago, it must have left a cavity, a great banquet hall a hundred feet across, with sloping walls of rubble and a ceiling supported by nothing that Ivory could make out in the gloomy shadows high above.
With his eyes following the pattern on the floor to where it disappeared beneath the rubble, he tried to make out what the pattern represented. Did the plants, animals, and curving lines represent anything? Probably not. Few things the Ancients constructed made any sense.
If the building above hadn’t collapsed, creating barriers of debris, Ivory wondered how far he could have walked in this subterranean realm. Could he have traveled all the way through the Ancient city and to the borders of the town? Ivory laughed at himself for such a silly idea. Still, he liked to imagine what life had been like in the time of the Ancients, before the ruins, before the demons.
He sighed as he noticed a glint of metal in the rubble that surrounded the floor.
It was time to turn his tumble into good fortune. Confident that he could quickly make the climb back up to the surface should he come across anything dangerous, he chanced a walk lightly along the edges of the floor, perusing the wall of crushed old stone, broken glass, and pieces of metal. Some of the pieces were so large they’d be impossible for him to remove, even with the help of a dozen men.
Along with the giant beams of steel and rusted ropes—ropes that seemed to grow right out of the broken stone—pieces of rare metal were mixed all throughout the debris mounds. Ivory saw hard steel, the kind for swords, broken into pieces small enough to load into his bag. He also found steel that didn’t hold an edge for long, but never rusted. He found pieces of aluminum, light and permanent. It was no good for making cutting weapons, but it was a prized material for making spear shafts, and it was highly prized for arrow shafts like the ones in his quiver. Those arrows flew far and true. Much better than wood.
The blacksmiths back in Brighton eagerly bought those metals, turning them into all manner of tools and weapons. Although the metals were contraband—going to the Ancient city was forbidden, after all—the blacksmiths didn’t acknowledge their origin, and Ivory didn’t speak of it.
Ivory contemplated exploring further, but put the thoughts out of his mind. He needed to get moving if he was to get to Jingo’s. Without delay, he collected as many pieces of metal as he could easily carry in his bag.
Ivory took one final glance at the trove of metals in the rubble all around and made his way carefully up the pile of debris to the hole through which he’d fallen. When he climbed out, the sun was higher in the sky. Ivory took his time scanning the ruins around him, making sure he was alone. He covered the hole with pieces of large debris, ensuring they were strong enough to be walked across. He didn’t want some wandering demon discovering the cavern by accidentally falling in just as Ivory had. If that happened, his discovery would get turned into a warren full of stinking monsters. His trove would be lost.
When his stash was hidden, Ivory worked his way back down through the rubble, heading in the direction of the tower where Jingo had made his home.
Chapter 37: Ella
“How far?” Ella asked.
Bray was several steps ahead of her. They’d been trekking all morning, and it felt like they were getting close to Davenport. In spite of that, Ella’s memory was far from trustworthy; it’d been years since she’d made the journey, and distances seemed much different now than they’d seemed in her childhood.
“Not far,” Bray affirmed. “When we get close, you’ll see the tops of the buildings over the trees. We should be there by midday.”
Ella felt a swell of relief. Since leaving Wanderer’s Peak, she’d been expecting the worst—bands of soldiers lurking behind every cluster of trees, packs of demons springing from all directions. So far, the journey had been quiet. Ella had spent much of the time ruminating on the events that had occurred over the past few days, reliving the choices she’d made. She assumed there’d be many days like that to come. She was surprised she’d even been able to sleep in the cave.
Her brain flashed to images of the soldiers she’d stabbed in Brighton—blood spraying from wounds she’d inflicted, groans emanating from opened mouths. She tried to recall the rousing speeches she’d heard given to soldiers before they marched off to battle. She’d never been a part of them, but she’d eavesdropped. The soldiers trained on a field several streets removed from town, and she’d passed by while making her way to the merchants. The leaders spoke of courage in battle—about giving up one’s life for the protection of the townsfolk, about making decisions fearlessly.
Wasn’t that what she’d done?
She didn’t believe the town’s teachings—that women were weak, and that only the hardest hearts could prevail. The noblest people she’d encountered were those that were not only able to fight, but also to feel. People like Ethan. People like her uncle. Those were the people she aspired to be like, and those were the people she wanted William to admire. For as long as he lived, she’d impress those values upon him.
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost didn’t notice the forest deaden. The transformation was subtle. At first, the birds stopped chirping, then the insects ceased their chatter. The wind died. Ahead of her, Bray stopped, as well, and was holding his blade at the ready. Ella scanned the forest.
Something was close by. She could feel it.
The air had taken on a fetid odor—a stench that permeated her surroundings and almost made her gag. She pressed a hand to her mouth, holding her breath to avoid taking it in. Beside her, William did the same. She knew the smell.
Demons.
Around Ella were trees and underbrush, but in the distance, she could see the light of a clearing. Bray gazed through the trees. After surveying the forest for several seconds, he put a finger to his lips and beckoned them onward.
They snuck to his side. With each step, the smell thickened, as if the scent were a ghost and they’d walked into its embrace. As they approached the clearing, Bray sank to a crouch. Ella and William mimicked his posture.
Several hundred feet across the clearing, shapes, hunched and lump-covered, crept through the grass. If Ella didn’t know better, she might’ve mistaken them for primitive animals grazing in an open field.
“Stay still,” Bray said.
Ella wanted desperately to run, but she obeyed the Warden. As much as she distrusted the man, he knew the ways of the demon. And out in the wild, that knowledge was greater than currency.
The infected were moving in the opposite direction, surveying the knee-high grass. Although their movements were erratic, the longer Ella stared at them, the more she could pick out a pattern. Several creatures were lea
ding the group, as if they were generals of some infected band of troops, directing their men through the terrain.
Ella looked over at Bray, trying to swallow her fear. “What are they looking for?”
“Us, most likely.”
“They know we’re here?”
“Possibly. Either that, or someone else is passing through.”
“Can they smell us?” William asked.
“I don’t think so. Their senses are the same as ours. They’re probably surrounded by the same stench.” Bray wrinkled his nose. “The only difference is, they probably like it.”
The creatures swayed back and forth. Every once in a while, one of them cranked its head and stared back at the forest, and Ella ducked low and held her breath.
“We should be fine,” Bray assured her. “We’ll just wait them out, and then we’ll adjust our path. It looks like they’re heading west.”
Ella peered over at William, who was taking in the scene intently. It was as if he were watching his future unfold. She wondered if he envisioned himself out in the open field. She’d protect him from that. She’d rather die than let him roam the wilderness like an animal. If it came down to it, she’d even…
She couldn’t think about that.
Ella swallowed the lump in her throat. William had turned to Bray, and she could see the curiosity on his face. It seemed like his fear had abated.
“How many skins do you think are out there?” He smiled.
“Forty-two,” Bray said.
William held up his finger and quietly counted the air. “You’re right. How’d you know that?”
“Lucky guess.”
Bray smiled at Ella, but she scowled and looked away. William was recounting, as if the Warden might’ve played a trick on him.
“Have you ever fought that many at once?” William asked.
“Not that many,” Bray said. “But close.”
“Did you defeat all of them?”
“Yep. I got thirty-five skins that day.”
“How’d you manage to do it?”
Bray smirked, unable to disguise his pride. “Do you want to know how?”
William nodded anxiously. Ella kept her eyes on the field, but found herself listening intently. Despite her mixed feelings toward the Warden, any knowledge he could impart would be worth having. Their survival might depend on it.
Bray gave one last look over the field, and then continued. “It happened about a year ago, right after the Brighton soldiers defeated a horde outside the walls. The demons had grown scarce, and many of the Wardens decided to head out past the frontier into the deep forests. I figured I’d head south. Most of the other Wardens were heading west, so I figured I’d have better luck in another direction. As you probably know, not many people have ventured that far away from the three towns, and I wasn’t familiar with the area. One morning, as I was coming down from my camp on a mountain, I stumbled on a pack of infected. They were trolling a field at the mountain’s base, scavenging among the trees. Because of the direction of the wind, I hadn’t smelled them, and by the time I saw them, they’d already spotted me.”
Bray paused for breath. William stared at him, eagerness in his expression.
“I turned, ready to flee, but I was butted up against an incline, and I knew that if I tried to run, I’d be overtaken. There was nothing I could do but fight them off. It took me a good part of the afternoon to slay all of them.”
“How’d you do it? How’d you kill them?” William asked.
Bray scratched his chin. “There are certain things you learn along the way—strategies that become instinct. Things you don’t know until you’re faced with a situation like that,” he said evasively.
“But don’t you have certain methods? Like the soldiers do?”
“I have my ways.”
Bray stopped and reached for his pack, watching Ella and William. He pulled out a flask of water and drank from it, letting his cheeks billow with the liquid. Ella felt a swell of annoyance. Rather than say anything, she held her tongue. When Bray was finished, he inspected the field and then resumed speaking.
“You want to know my secrets?” he asked.
Ella and William nodded.
“For one, never stop moving. The minute you stop moving is the minute you die. The demons have a difficult time catching a moving target. If there are a number of them, they tend to trip each other up, so you can use that to your advantage. Chase them from side to side, and attack the fiercest ones first. Never let yourselves get surrounded. In this particular instance, I had the mountain at my back, which limited the number of ways they could approach. If you get surrounded, you’re as dead as the soldiers we left on the mountain.”
Ella nodded her head, processing the information. William’s eyes were big and round, staring at Bray in amazement.
“You said it took an afternoon to slay them?” he asked.
“Almost,” Bray said. “When I’d thinned their numbers, I was able to lead several of them away and dispatch them individually. By that time, I’d decided I wasn’t going to flee. The prospect of silver was too good.”
“What happened when you defeated them all?”
Bray wiped his lips and returned his water to his pack. “Afterwards? I headed to The House of Barren Women and took a nice, hot bath.” He grinned.
Chapter 38: Ella
When the demons had disappeared from the field, Bray led Ella and William in another direction, avoiding the open grass and heading deeper into the woods. Rerouting would lengthen their journey, but it’d give them a buffer zone from the creatures.
After a few minutes of traveling, the smell started to dissipate, but Ella could still detect the odor in her mouth and nose. It was a stench she’d always equate with death. As persistent as it was, she was glad it existed—it warned them of danger, and it probably saved their lives.
They hiked for a while longer without speaking, and she could tell William was searching for the creatures. He held his knife in hand. Several times, when he thought no one was looking, she caught him taking a practice jab. She recalled his ambitions as a child. At different points in his young life, he’d wanted to be a soldier, a merchant, and a farmer. Although she wasn’t fond of some of his phases, she’d never squashed his dreams. As Ella knew from her own childhood, one’s aspirations would change over time, and there was no use dwelling on the fleeting whims of a child. It was best to let him explore the world around him, finding his own passions and his own path.
The realities of life would dissuade any child soon enough.
She pretended not to see William swinging his blade, letting him have his moment. Bray wove through the trees at a rapid pace, and Ella and William fought to keep up. It was evident he knew the forest as well as anyone, and she was once again grateful to have him as a guide. Most of the journey guides she knew, though knowledgeable about the wild, weren’t skilled in battle.
Bray possessed both attributes.
At one point, she heard the distant roar of the river, and she envisioned the demons drinking from its banks. In just a day, she’d learned more about the wild than a year of listening to stories in taverns could’ve taught her.
Most of the people in Brighton were isolated and removed, dependent on the teachings of the ministers. The only knowledge they had was from stories, and many of those stories were full of embellishments and mistruths. She’d always suspected this, but she’d never dared give voice to her theories.
Now that she was seeing things firsthand, many of her suspicions had been validated. The only way to learn about the wild was to immerse oneself in it, as dangerous as it was.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, William began to stumble. Ella reached out for his arm to steady him.
“Are you okay, William?”
He stared at her with guilt in his eyes. “I’m hungry,” he confessed.
Ella felt a shimmer in her heart—the feeling of a mother who’d been neglecting her child. They hadn’
t eaten since yesterday. Regardless of their hurry, they could afford to take a moment. “Let’s stop.”
At the sound of their conversation, Bray turned back and walked to join them. Ella shrugged the pack from her shoulders and opened it, pulling out an apple she’d taken from the soldiers. She handed it to William, watching him devour it hungrily. Then she withdrew some berries for herself. She was tired of the taste, but happy to be fed, at least.
“If we weren’t in a hurry, I’d catch us some game,” Bray offered. “But we need to get moving.”
Ella agreed. She finished her meal and washed it down with water. It was getting towards mid-day, and the sun bore down from overhead, splashing light through the trees. The birds and insects were as vocal as ever. It was as if the animals had forgotten the disruption of the demons, and were reclaiming the forest.
William stared at Bray as he chewed.
“What are the buildings like in Davenport?” he asked. “Do they look the same as the outskirts of Brighton?”
“Some are taller. But you can’t climb inside them. They aren’t safe, and they’re covered in weeds,” Bray answered.
“Most are forbidden,” Ella agreed.
“Do the kids go inside them anyway? Like they do in Brighton?”
“William!” Ella scolded. “You know better than that.”
“I haven’t gone in, myself,” he said, turning his head to disguise the lie.
“You better not have,” she warned. “And you won’t be exploring the ones in Davenport, either.”
“I can’t wait to see them, that’s all.”
“Who says you have to wait?” Bray asked.
Ella and William turned to ask for clarification. Before they could speak, they saw what Bray was referring to. Deep in the distance, over the tops of a few trees, were the tips of several majestic buildings.
“Welcome to Davenport,” he said with a smile.
Chapter 39: Ivory
The sky was bright and yellow when Ivory arrived at the base of a tower that stood twenty layers tall. Each layer was the size of a prairie, and he could walk through most of them without bumping his head on the layer above. Each was lush with plants around the edges and filled with small animals. Birds perched and nested. In the center of each layer, where the suns rays never fell, they were barren caves.
