by S Kaeth
They are not innocent.
Neither are you. Who are you to pass judgement?
Anger roiled in them, magnifying through the massive Collective at their back and seeping into Kaemada’s song. They immersed her in the suffering they’d endured. Sleeping in filth, eating garbage, never having enough. It echoed the lives of those in the City of the Lost.
Maybe that was what defined people: the mistakes they hid away and tried to ignore, the pain they caused without meaning. She saw it again and again, in the City of the Lost, with the Kamalti, even her own people.
No, people were more than their mistakes. They were always more than their mistakes. But attacking in vengeance would not make anything right. The king of the City of the Lost had thought it worth it. The Collective was just as wrong as he had been. Nothing was worth the cost of terrorizing others.
Your hands are not clean, either. The Collective surrounded her with the moment she killed the king.
That’s why I’m asking you not to do this. Because I know what you will lose. She indicated the battleground around them in the dreamscape. This isn’t justice. This is vengeance. You do not care who you hurt as long as they hurt.
Songs all around her were silenced, people who died simply because the Collective couldn’t lash out directly at what had actually hurt them—the society they’d been born into. Just as Takiyah distrusted all Kamalti, not only those who hurt her. And she understood this, the pain of it. It poured from Takiyah’s song into the dreamscape, from the songs of the Collective.
All are complicit in the treatment we have suffered. They see and do not speak out. They do not stop it.
All? Even children like Eian?
The Precious Vessel. Let go. We will be sure he is safe. We will deliver you all safely to the Outside.
The Collective knew precisely what she wanted. How could she refuse, especially when their words rang with truth? She’d risked everything for him, and now, there was a chance to be free of this mountain. No more fighting. Eian was only one child, but he was hers. All she had to do was let go.
Her mind drifted. She could let go.
The Collective reeled with her, she realized. She was losing herself in the Collective again. She forced herself to focus. Do you not see? You can show those who wronged you that they were wrong. You can show them what it really means to be noble. If you continue to do battle like this, they will argue they were right, that you’re an enemy and too dangerous to live. You cannot fight hate with hate. Do you not see the foolishness of this?
We cannot stop. We are too vulnerable here. We must continue until we can show the Above a strength not to be toyed with!
She was vulnerable. She’d known she might be sucked into the Collective. Ra’ael had sent her anyway.
Wrath. They’d sent her where she would fail. No! Taunos had always protected her, but now he was relying on her. They all were. That was respect.
She drew herself inward. I am my father’s daughter. And I am my mother’s daughter. And I am Galod’s student. Laughter bubbled out of her. And that’s what he has been trying to get me to understand for so long.
Her thoughts cleared slowly, like a fog lifting, the pull of the Collective fading as she defined herself apart from them and drew herself out of the tossing ocean of their existence.
She was Kaemada Sierso, a psion, and she would not let this continue.
Reaching out, she picked up the panic of the people around them, on the stairs, in the lifts, running from the flames and their nightmares. She streamed it at the Collective, flooding them with the pain and terror they were causing. Discord erupted through their song in the dreamscape.
No song stands alone, she shouted at them. We build our songs from those who have gone before us. We build our stories from theirs. And you need to know what you’re destroying.
The revulsion and uncertainty of the Collective thrummed through her. Still, stubbornness wove through their song. We have been separate from them for so long. What care we for their pain?
The songs of the people rang out in the dreamscape, blending into one great song. In some places, the song swelled, louder than the individuals. Songs streamed toward the haven of these patches of brilliance, and she wasn’t surprised to see her friends there, fighting, the music of their souls loud and bright.
And her own song, still with themes from Tannevar woven into it, as it always would be. Pieces of her had died with him, and fragments of him still lived in her.
We all sprang from tiny pieces of the greater song of Eloí’s creation. How can we justify ending other parts of the song to strengthen our own? Your separation is that of the harsh winters, but the growing season has come, and the kaetal can come together again, each bringing their piece of the central fires to make the kaetal whole once more. Only the separation has been long—lifetimes long.
Just like the separation between Kamalti and Rinaryn.
Participation, rhythm, tune, words. The Kamalti and the Rinaryn had to work together, for all their safety, including that of the psions. Without that communal rhythm, without the joining of their songs, Eian would be in danger again from vengeance seeker from either side. So would her friends. The psions, in their search for vengeance, were jeopardizing all of those lives, including their own. All she’d been trying to build. Anger flared in her, even though she understood. How could she not, when she was so connected to the Collective? She drove her song into theirs, carrying with her the echoes of the tunes of their victims.
It is time it ends.
~
Answer held her head high, striding quickly along at the center of the double columns of apprentice-Scouts. She was not running. Scouts were prepared for conflict from either tunnel into the cavern—from one of the other City-states—or for intrusions from the Outside. Apparently, no one had given thought to the monsters of the chasm.
The first priority of the Scouts was to get the Justices and Philosophers to safety. They’d secured the Hall of Scouts first, for the embarrassment would prove politically fatal should the sharp-edged building be taken by the creatures. Every failure on their part would be scrutinized in agonizing detail for the foreseeable future. They had to be perfect. They’d spread out from there, securing all the metal buildings first, and then branching out to contain the threat. But they were so very outnumbered. The latest estimates at the Hall were of eight hundred attackers.
She’d longed to stay in the Hall of Scouts, where it was safe, but every able-bodied combat-focused Scout was out fighting. That left her to rescue noble families, with trainees as a guard. They had five families to collect that had been cut off in the confusion of the initial attack.
They are safe. They are safe. She repeated it over and over to herself as a litany. They would be far enough from the chasm. The creatures couldn’t have penetrated so far, could they have? She stamped down on the part of her that wished Taunos were here to protect her. She didn’t need the Outsiders, couldn’t be seen with them any longer. It would ruin her social standing if anyone thought she sympathized with them.
Is that what she was? An Outsider-sympathizer? Her mother would die of shame.
Screams and shouts, the ring of metal, the crash of stone as buildings collapsed all filled her ears. She couldn’t shut them out, and by the time they had collected two of the families, her nerves were strained to breaking. The trainees startled at the sounds of clashes, of voices shouting or crying for help. The Scouts were on their way, Answer told herself, pressing her lips tightly together. If she showed her fear, the trainees would surely panic, and the nobles they’d gathered would lose faith in her. If they distrusted her, she’d have no control over them.
“Lady Answer.” The boy at the front turned. The entire group stopped with him.
“What?” Fear, and the fear of it being known she was afraid, made her terse.
“Lady, it sounds like there is fighting ahead. Shall we go stair-ward?”
“That would be better than chasm
-ward or ahead toward the fighting.” Answer made a mental note to praise the boy in front of his superiors to make up for her tone. She tried to shake out her jittery hands.
“Are the Crystal Rooms working?” That was Lord Jath, tottering on the arm of his equally elderly wife.
“Yes, my lord. The Scouts have made certain the Hall of Scouts remained safe.”
“Well, do not preen for fulfilling the bare minimum of your obligations,” Lord Jath snapped.
She averted her eyes, only to realize the boy was watching with a little smirk on his face. Well, then. Maybe she wouldn’t congratulate the disrespectful trainee. “Let us continue.”
If she survived this, she would keep her head down and work hard until she rose high enough that no one would dare disrespect her in public. That, at least, would please her family and the Scouts. The best thing for her would be to forget the Outsiders like a bad dream.
The boy straightened, nodded, and turned them stair-ward.
Ten blocks from Crystal Square, the fighting boiled out into their street. A flood of people streamed toward them in various states of dishevelment. Behind them came misshapen monsters with cruel smiles. Kamalti. The monsters were Kamalti.
She’d known it, of course. The monsters came from the chasm, where those with magic and deformities were sent. But to look into their eyes and see a person… she tightened her fists and stiffened her back to avoid shivering. What could these creatures possibly want?
Aware of the noble’s judgemental eyes, Answer ordered the boys to form up closely around them in the shelter of a shop and directed the refugees to the Square. Where were the Scouts? Only three were visible, running toward them with torn uniforms and bloodied daggers and cudgels. They were too far away! The creatures driving the citizens of Codr forward would be on them in moments. What could she do?
The refugees swarmed past them, and there at the end was a familiar face. Taunos, bloody yet again, stumbling and gasping with fatigue. He carried Kaemada’s body while the other Rinaryn man carried the blood-raged woman, battered yet again. The sight made her heart lurch—when had she become almost fond of the Outsiders? It must have been all those talks. They were not who she’d thought they were. The Outsiders were all there—even that little boy, keeping to the middle of their group just as she was keeping to the middle of hers.
She straightened, throwing her shoulders back. She was a Scout! She would not suffer these creatures to destroy her beautiful City. She would stand for order against the chaos, and that included not letting the Outsiders escape while her City burned. And yet, and yet… She’d misjudged the Outsiders—all of her people had. Was it possible they had brought this disaster on themselves, too?
The press of her group joining the others in their dash for safety nearly swept her off her feet. She looked—really looked this time—at the situation. The red-haired ebr—Takiyah—tossed a glass and metal ball behind her toward the attacking creatures from the chasm, and moments later, the ball erupted. The Rinaryn healer followed it up with another. Some of the creatures pressed forward from the other side, nearly overwhelming them. Taunos, still carrying Kaemada, leapt toward them, spinning as he drove them back with kicks and punches, impossibly holding the line. In the turmoil of the crowd, two Scouts worked their way toward the back, taking up stations to either side of the Outsiders, firing crossbows at their attackers. This rag-tag group formed the rearguard, protecting the people of Codr in their flight to safety.
The Outsiders were helping her people and paying dearly for it.
She shouldn’t have expected anything else. Irritating as Taunos was, he’d consistently rescued her from danger, while she’d drugged and berated him. Kaemada had shown remarkable compassion and curiosity for a savage. More compassion than Answer had shown.
“Lead them to the Hall of Scouts,” she shouted to her trainees, breaking out of the safety of the middle. This was a terrible idea, logic told her. This was not the way to gain status and power.
Perhaps tonight logic could sleep a little. Survival had to be more important than status and power, didn’t it?
Tremors betrayed her, her legs like liquid as she joined the Outsiders at the back of the cluster of refugees. The chasm creatures pressed in, and Answer held her hand out to Takiyah. “I wish to help.”
Takiyah gave her a suspicious glance.
Answer pressed her lips together for a moment, then tried again. “I can throw just as well.”
“No, you cannot—we’re out.” The Rinaryn healer wadded up the empty bag as Takiyah tossed the last ball.
Answer refused to show her disappointment. Why had Fate caused the two Outsiders who were most friendly to be unconscious and unable to speak for her? Still, she must do her duty and bring the people of the City safely to the Hall. Tonight, that included the Outsiders.
“We’re not going back to captivity,” Taunos gasped as they retreated. He staggered, his left leg buckling before he recovered.
“Things will get bad soon. We’re almost out of ways to distract them,” Takiyah said.
“Are they dead?” Answer asked, glancing at the two unconscious women. The last time Taunos’s sister had been thought dead, Ra’ael had tried to kill her.
“Dead?” Taunos shook his head, keeping up their careful retreat. “Ra’ael saved many of your people before going down. Kaemada is fighting the psions.”
“It does not seem she did very well.”
“Mind to mind.”
“Magic!” The objection burst from her before she could stop it.
Taunos turned a withering look on her.
A cold grin broke on Takiyah’s face. “We can stop using our magic to protect you since it bothers you so much.”
Answer opened her mouth to say something contrite, something that would appropriately apologize, but nothing came. They were acting like Scouts, saving her people, and she was behaving ungratefully. And yet, the other Scouts would see only enemies when they looked at the Outsiders.
A great wave of water loomed above them. Impossible. There was no significant source of open water nearby. Screams rose around her. Citizens scattered, and Answer nearly lost her footing. Terror chilled her.
“To the Hall of Scouts!” she shouted, stooping to help an older woman who’d been knocked down. She looked up, but the wall of water was gone as suddenly as it had appeared. She shivered. Magic.
“No, it’s a trap!” the healer shouted. “They’re causing us to see things.”
Lord Jath, beside her, glared at them. “The Hall of Scouts is safe, you said. What are you playing at?”
“She’s right. Run your prey into a trap—always a good trick for hunters,” Taunos said.
“We are close to the Hall of Scouts. We will all be safe there,” Answer tried.
Takiyah sneered. “You will all be safe there.”
Answer chewed on her lip. She deserved that. “You have no reason to trust me, but you will never get out at this rate. You carry too many casualties.”
“I will not go back!” Takiyah whipped around, and Answer stepped backward before she could stop herself. She looked behind them, beyond the refugees. There it was. The Hall of Scouts. They would make it.
“No. I will speak for you.” Answer shook her head, committing herself. She looked at Taunos. “You saved me because I needed saving. Now you are in need of saving. Let me help you.”
Stones whipped toward them from the stair-ward direction. She fell, tossed backward by the impact. Blood slicked her hands. Screams sounded all around, and someone stepped on her leg, sending pain bursting up her shin. She struggled upright. The creatures were upon them. She gasped for breath that wouldn’t come. This was how she would die.
But she was not their first target.
The healer was the first to crumple, crying out in pain. Ra’ael convulsed, and then Taunos staggered. Answer hauled on his arm, swinging him toward the Hall of Scouts, and shoved him hard. “Go!”
She turned, grabbing Takiyah
, who grabbed the Rinaryn healer. The two Scouts dragged the healer’s husband toward the Hall along with her. Everyone else was inside. Pain gripped her like a vice around her skull, squeezing her to mush as she crossed the threshold. She slapped the glass pane by the doors. The doors of the Hall of the Scouts glided shut and hissed, sealing them in.
The pain vanished. Answer sagged, clutching light-headed at the wall. At least she was not the only one. Others who had been gripped by the magic of those creatures drooped in relief as well.
“Thank the gods!” Zhedr breathed, slumping to the floor. It looked very ignoble, but at the moment, she did not blame him. Surprise and gratitude filled her to see him.
“You overstep yourself!” Lord Jath scolded her.
“You cannot offer them sanctuary. Leave them outside with the other magic users, I say!” Lady Ebez said.
Perhaps monsters were everywhere, not so clearly defined as us and them.
“They stay in partial payment for their heroic deeds,” Answer said, trying to ignore the tremors rising in her. She controlled her breathing, determined to stay calm.
“They saved three Scouts who were with me,” said Zhedr.
Other voices murmured agreements, mostly from the common people. Stories began to flow of the Outsiders’ heroism, and Answer sighed, grateful for the backup.
“How did you know the Hall would block their magic?” Zhedr asked.
“I did not,” she confessed in a whisper. Beyond him, Kaemada thrashed near the wall, while the others who’d been under attack now lay still. Taunos held her with gritted teeth, trying to still her flailing limbs.
“What is happening?” she asked, stepping toward them despite herself.
Taunos shook his head. “She warned me they were so many, she might lose herself. And moving her, I may have done her damage. I do not know.”
