by T B Phillips
A uniformed policeman stood in the doorway, scanning faces as they disembarked and comparing them to a photograph in his hand. One by one he checked the passengers, dutifully searching for a particular face. Her stomach lurched as she thought of the girl. If they catch her will she implicate me? Do they know what I’ve done? She began to tremble and no longer had to lie to Subba about feeling ill. She suddenly worried that she may vomit before leaving the train.
When they approached the officer, she stared down at his belt. She had seen guns before, but the sight of them always made her nervous. Her mind raced. What would he do to me if I run? She swallowed and stood tall, trying to walk with the same confidence she portrayed in the Oracle.
He barely glanced at her face and looking past her into the crowd. He focused again on the photograph and waved her on. “Keep moving,” he said.
As she stepped off the train, Fatwana was relieved and thankful for the cooling breeze. She moved away from the crowd and waited for Subba. He hurried over with their load, overburdened and nearly dropping bags. “I wonder who they’re searching for.” He was slightly out of breath as he scanned the depot for their car. He pointed, “There it is.”
“Subba, I don’t feel well. I think that traveling has unnerved me, and I need to use the restroom.”
He nodded. “I understand, lead sister. I’ll load the bags and meet you at the car.”
The facilities were exactly how the girl had described, with doors both in front and back. She stepped in, pausing at a sink to check her reflection in the mirror. Her face was ashen, with bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. She took a moment to wash her face before exiting through the rear, it did nothing to calm her nerves.
She halfway expected the girl not to show. With heavy police presence she would surely be recognized as an activist. But Fatwana found her waiting as promised, resting on a bench with an open book. She casually stood as Fatwana approached.
The stranger whispered, “Took you long enough. We need to go.”
“I don’t think you understand. I’m not going with you. I was only going to give you this.” She pulled a small storage disk from her sleeve and thrust it toward the girl’s hand.
“Put that away! Do you want to be seen on camera?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do this.”
“Just keep walking and pretend we aren’t together.”
“But I have a car waiting and need to get back.” A tremendous blast roared from behind. Fatwana whirled around just as the train exploded a second time. She gasped when the barrel of a gun jabbed her ribs.
“Start moving and do exactly as I say. Now, go!”
Chancellor Jakata rested in his chambers. Soft orchestral music played quietly, and the lights were low. He relaxed in an overstuffed recliner enjoying the ambiance and letting the music calm his mood. The day had been very demanding, and the Council had called an emergency session. To top it off, violence erupted in the capital.
He swirled the wine in the glass and watched the trails run down the edge. After a moment he put his nose inside the goblet and breathed in the bouquet. It was pleasing, rich and oaky with a hint of flowers. He let out a sigh and took a sip. With closed eyes he chewed the wine, forcing the flavor across his taste buds. This was not his favorite but proved a decent vintage. His beloved 754 was becoming more difficult to obtain.
His assistant sat in another chair, waiting patiently. In his lap was an open folder, full of matters that required the chancellor’s attention. “Sir, if we could discuss the train bombing.”
Jakata opened his eyes and glared. “Gaurin, I’d rather that we don’t at the moment.”
The man persisted, drawing out a photograph. He glanced briefly, then held it out with earnest. “Fatwana Nakala is missing and was seen walking away from the explosion.”
“Coincidence.”
“I think not.” He pointed at a girl in the photo. “We’ve been watching the girl next to her for few weeks. She’s a low-level member of the Society.”
Jakata sat up and frowned at the picture. “Was Fatwana abducted?”
“Possibly. Or she’s decided to follow in her brother’s footsteps.”
“Why would you think that?”
“There is a discrepancy in her recent reports and transcriptions. One of the Da’ash’mael events was omitted from her records. The priests reported three for the day, but she only provided transcriptions for two.”
Jakata downed his wine, speeding its work against his irritation. “We’ve never had reason to doubt her loyalty before. Maybe she simply forgot. Or she sent it and the connection was bad. You know how difficult it is to connect with the Oracle that far north.”
Gaurin nodded agreement. “Nonetheless, she’s missing.”
“How many people died in the attack?”
“The preliminary estimate is twenty-two. They were small bombs placed in a specific car.”
“Specific car? How specific?”
“The priests from the northern oracle were transporting six new Falconers, each on route to Andalon. Thankfully they had already exited the car and only four of them were killed. They are working on bringing them back as we speak.”
Jakata shook his head in disbelief. “How did the Society know they’d be in that specific car?”
“We’re looking into that.”
“Make it a priority. Also, raid Fatwana’s cell and make a full sweep of her computer. I doubt she’d defect, but there could be something we’re missing.”
Chapter Sixteen
The vastness of Lake Norton dwarfed Kali as she stared across the waves, unable to find land in any direction. Growing up in the streets of Logan, she had never paid attention to the body of water, regarding it only as a border between her world and the money that filled wealthy purses. She had never imagined that she would purchase passage across, much less marvel at, the expansive waterway. But in all of her dreams, the lake was never this large.
Overhead the weather had cooperated for several days and the waves remained gentle beneath her feet. During the trip she had listened to many a sailor’s story about fierce storms and overturned vessels, but mostly they liked to joke about the weak stomached landlubbers who dared to sail during high winds. She considered herself lucky that she had made it this far without showing the crew her breakfast.
One of those crewmen was only a few years older than she and had quickly befriended her during the voyage. Johan approached with excitement filling his face. “Cap’n says that we’re almost across and should be nearing Eston soon.”
Kali shrugged casually, trying to mask her own excitement. “Why is that a big deal?”
“You’ve never seen the Span, have you?” The boy’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he spoke. Without waiting for her response, he continued, “It’s two huge bridges that cross the Logan River! At the very top they’re connected by another bridge with the biggest market you’ll ever see! It’s right smack dab in the middle. The biggest in the world!”
“I’ve seen big markets. Logan has an entire market sector.” His resulting laughter embarrassed the girl and she felt her temper rise. She turned her attention back to the horizon of water.
“I’m sorry,” he said after realizing he had insulted her naivety.
“I’ve never been out of Logan,” she admitted.
“Then you really need to see Eston. It will take us an entire day to cross it by river.”
“You’re lying.”
“Seriously,” he insisted, “It’s the largest city in Andalon.” He thought for a moment then added, “Largest in the world, even!”
Kali shrugged to hide her curiosity. Surely, he’s lying. A question suddenly entered her mind, “Where are you from?”
By his reaction she surmised that no one had ever asked him that question. After a time, he responded. “Middleto
n. It’s on the east coast of Andalon.”
“What’s it like?”
“It’s big. Not as big as Eston, but bigger than Logan.”
“How much bigger?”
He scrunched up his face as the calculated. “At least five or six times. Maybe seven.”
She nodded. No wonder he had laughed at her response. “Does it have a Span like Eston?”
“No. The bay is too large. It’s several hundred miles long from the entrance, and its hundreds of fingers weave between jutting peninsulas with gun batteries. No armada would dare attack it by sea; there’s no reason for a Span.”
“Why’d you leave?”
Johan’s eyes dropped to the deck, suddenly glistening with homesickness. The moisture reflected the afternoon sun. “My paw died a year ago, so I had to find work.”
“Where’s your maw?”
The boy replied, “I never had one.”
“Oh.” She looked away casually pretending that she hadn’t noticed his tears. “I never had a paw, so I get that.”
“Why are you going to Diaph?”
“My business.” She spoke the words with a sharp finality, suddenly wanting to end the conversation.
“I am hoping to get to Estowen’s Landing, myself.”
Her attention snapped to the boy. “Why did you say that?”
With trembling hand, he pulled out a folded parchment and smoothed it flat. “I was told that would be where I can find others like me.”
“Like you, how?”
Johan shrugged dismissively and didn’t answer.
Her gaze narrowed as she stared, looking for a sign that he knew her true destination. How can he know where I’m going?
After a while he softly answered. “I have a special thing that I can do.”
Her heart raced with excitement, but she asked with feigned indifference in her voice, “How special?” There’s no way that he’s like me, she thought, silently hoping they were the same.
“Watch.” He reached his hand into the water and waited. Soon an entire school of trout swam to the surface and the largest, easily twenty pounds, rested against his hand. Johan slowly pet the fish as it kept careful pace with the boat.
“How do you do that?”
“I don’t know. It only started about a month ago.”
An idea crept into her mind as she thought about the stray animals in the alleys of Logan. “What if I help you get to Estowen’s Landing?”
A smile curled on the boy’s face, showing his eagerness for a companion. “Deal.” He reached out his hand she gave it a firm shake.
Kali strained her eyes against the horizon and focused on the massive structure in the distance. She pointed. No longer able to hide her excitement her voice cracked as she asked, “Is that the Span?”
Johan shook his head with a knowing smile. “No, Kali. That’s only the first bridge. It’ll be several more hours before we reach the center.”
Her eyes darted, marveling at the banks downriver and beyond the bridge. She curiously wondered why the stone walls reached so deep into the city, “Where’s the harbor?”
“Underneath the Span.” He responded, “It’s the safest place in the city.”
She shivered as their tiny vessel approached the looming gun mounts, impenetrable from invasion either by land or sea. A long wharf sat on the starboard riverbank where soldiers inspected cargo. Johan and the crew worked the rigs and slackened sails as the coxswain guided the rudder. As they changed course, Kali stared up at the massive stone archway blocking out the sun. It’s like a cave, she marveled. Tiny droplets of water dripped from the ceiling, forming tiny stalactites, and raining down on the awestruck girl.
Johan followed her gaze upward. “Wicking water created that. Isn’t it beautiful?”
She responded, “But not as beautiful as the vines.” Hundreds of thousands of feet of green ivy trailed the stone maze of grout and granite, creating a carpet among the dripping columns.
“Wait until you see the palace. The city is full of rose trellises. That’s why they call it the ‘Rose Palace’ and why the Esterlings favor that flower on their crest.” After he had spoken, he hopped onto the deck to tie off lines.
Kali finally turned her attention away from the cavernous underside of the bridge. She turned to ask Johan another question but froze, silent with eyes wide and mouth agape. Five feathered specters in flowing robes trailed down the winding staircase and passed through the gatehouse above. Each bore their raptor on their arm and stared directly at Kali. Surely these are not the same Falconers from Logan, she thought. How could they have beaten me here?
Johan frowned. “What’s wrong, Kali?” She lifted her hand and pointed over his shoulder, causing him to turn. “Oh, them? Sometimes they come down and watch the guards search the boats. It’s okay.”
She stammered, “What are they looking for?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen them do anything but watch the boats.”
One of the hooded men paused to converse quietly with a soldier. When the guardsman pointed toward the boat, Kali pleaded, “Johan, we need to leave.”
“We can’t. They won’t let us pass under the city if we don’t submit.”
“But you don’t understand, I…” A screech cut off her words as the falcons fanned wings and rose into the air.
The great birds flew directly at Johan, causing him to crouch and cover his face. They clawed and tore at his flesh as he cried out, screaming for mercy. When none came, his cries turned to rage. Suddenly, the river beneath the wharf exploded, ripping boards to splinters and knocking the Falconers off balance. One fell into the river and was instantly surrounded by the water, now alive and clutching the man with flowing fingers. Despite how hard he tried to swim, he was pulled below the surface by an impossible current.
The boy grabbed the neck of one of the birds and wrung with all his might. Kali blanched as his face contorted with anger, and she found herself unable to turn away. He squeezed and did not let go until the bird fell, lifeless, onto the pier. He then faced the four men scrambling to their feet. Another wave of water tossed the boat into the air and Kali lost her footing. She fell hard to the deck just as the cresting surge washed the Falconers against the boards. The remaining birds dove and ripped flesh from the boy’s face.
One of the Falconers regained his footing and wisps of air coalesced around Johan’s hands and feet. He yanked hard and the boy fell hard against the pier. Suddenly, a gust of wind sent him sliding hard against the archway.
Kali looked on with anger replacing her earlier fear. “No!” She cried out, drawing the Falconers’ attention.
A single strand of air caught her by the neck. Breathless, she felt a tug and slammed against the wall alongside her friend. As her head hit stone the grip released, and Kali gasped for life. We’re both going to die, she thought. The girl lay like that, hopelessly staring at the stalactite ceiling above. She wished that she had never discovered her powers or the truth about the Falconers.
But then an idea brought hope. “Johan,” she whispered, “wick the water back from the stone.” The boy’s eyes were wide with fear, and she could tell that he could barely breathe. But something in his gaze flickered and she knew he understood. “Now, Johan!”
The dark grey of the archway slowly lightened as if the sun had baked it on a hot afternoon. Shards of grouting turned to powder, above, falling harmlessly into the river. One by one the tiny stalactites stopped dripping, but the four monsters never noticed. They busied themselves with the task of forming a sled of air upon which to carry their captives.
Kali’s vision swam from the impact, but her hands were free. She managed to touch a single vine, grasping it in her palm. Her other hand felt for Johan until she eventually contacted the bare skin of his ankle. She would have to hurry. His lips were turning blue.
The water within the boy surged against the power she held within. The sensation burned as she concentrated on the vine. As a child, she would watch the plants in the summer, thirsty and parched from want of rain. When it finally fell, those shriveled husks would drink enough to fill both stalk and leaf until they again danced in the wind. Just as roots passed water to their stems, Kali drew the water the boy had collected and fed the climbing ivy. The sudden growth filled the cracks and crevices above. They had come alive, and Kali convinced them to wriggle deeper into the stone.
Beside her Johan groaned. One of the Falconers had knelt down and pulled out two green caterpillars. She watched with horror as these crawled into her friend’s ears. Abruptly the flow of water stopped, and the boy’s screams echoed under the massive structure of stone. Without the flow of water, she could no longer make the vines grow.
The nearby birds screeched again, and four sets of Falconer eyes snapped toward Kali. Wisps of air coalesced around her hands, pulling them away from the vines and trapping her tightly in place. She stared back defiantly as one of them spoke. “We did not expect to find two emotants traveling together. Where were you traveling, girl?” The air around her skin burned worse than the water she had drawn from Johan. The specter repeated the question, but she gritted her teeth against the pain and refused to answer.
The hooded man drew out two more of the caterpillars. He confidently strode toward Kali and asked, “How did you find each other?” When she ignored the question, he held out the larvae. “Answer me, child.”
The bonds constricted the more she resisted, and Kali gasped. Air twisted around her chest and neck. Her breathing slowed. I don’t want to die here, she thought, not without finding others like me.
Despite the strength of the wisps she wriggled her fingers and felt at her bonds. At first, she felt nothing, just missed again and again as she clawed. Relax, she cautioned herself, focus on where they should be. More calmly she tried again, this time feeling a buzzing sensation. All at once the feeling grew, intensifying as invisible heat burned her fingertips.
