by Lori M. Lee
Yara kept her compass close at hand, determined not to lose it this time. Although we didn’t have a map, she knew we had to head north, so north we went. The farther we traveled, the clearer it became that we were finally leaving the Outlands.
The rock formations grew higher, and there were copses of trees instead of lone skeletal ones. Some of the trees had leaves, although they were brittle and brown. Patches of yellow grass and weeds pushed out through the cracks in the earth, and I even spotted tiny blue wildflowers. The landscape was rapidly transforming, and I could feel Yara’s anticipation grow stronger the more land we covered. She was eager to be home.
A few hours into the morning, there was actual grass beneath our scouts’ feet. Not bright, healthy green grass but a pale frost green, each blade outlined in brown or yellow. Probably more weeds than grass—still, it was welcome. Trees became more frequent, their branches the same sickly green as the grass. Black birds with yellow-tipped wings took flight from the upper boughs as our passing scouts startled them.
And in the distance, becoming ever clearer against the horizon, were the jagged peaks of mountains.
The sight left me breathless. The excitement returned, fluttering through my stomach. I had known, rationally, that the Outlands had to end somewhere, but I’d never tried to imagine what lay beyond for fear there was nothing but more of the same emptiness.
The world suddenly didn’t feel so alone.
CHAPTER 12
WE APPROACHED A brook. I’d never seen a real one. I slowed my scout as we crossed. The water burbled merrily over the stones, cloudy but not nearly the brown murk of the river in Ninurta. I grinned at Mason, who was leaning over his scout to dip his fingers into the water.
Shortly before noon, Yara pointed ahead at a thinly wooded area we were fast approaching. “Lanathrill!” she shouted, beaming. “The woods mark our borders.”
Mason threw me a mischievous smile. Then he leaned over his scout and rushed ahead in a burst of speed. I moved the lever on my scout’s neck to its final setting, and then lowered myself over its powerful body as its legs sped up to follow Mason. Our scouts tore through overgrown weeds as we raced for the woods.
With a laugh, we broke through the trees, the metal paws of our scouts scattering dirt and leaves in our wake.
Crossing into Lanathrill lifted a weight from our party. Even Gret and Winnifer were in a better mood. The landscape changed more quickly now. Flat earth became cresting hills and deepening slopes. The grass remained dry and overgrown, but I noticed a few scattered patches of green. We passed a series of connected ponds, the water dark with algae. Frogs, fatter than the ones that hid in the muddy river in Ninurta, rustled through the reeds that sprouted in the shallows along the bank.
Trees stood in abundance. They were old, their scarred trunks tall and thick, gnarled about the roots. Their branches soared high above us, but their leaves, while dense, were speckled in yellow. Still, these trees had survived the war, clinging to life even now.
Warm air lifted loose strands of hair from my neck. I lifted my palm into the wind. The air tumbled and slid through my fingers, a meager imitation of the threads against my skin. My throat felt suddenly tight, and I lowered my hand.
We traveled more slowly, all of us wanting the opportunity to take everything in. This was nothing like the rich green forest bordering the Void, but it didn’t matter. This was new and wondrous, and those far-off mountains loomed ever closer.
A half hour later, we came upon the first sign of human life. It was a farmhouse, made of wood with a thatched roof. The farmhouse was connected to a barn, and both buildings were encased by a low cobblestone fence.
A pall of gravity settled over us as we drew closer. A portion of the roof was caved in, leaving a gaping hole and shredded straw thatch. We ambled along the fence, peering inside at the abandoned farming equipment lying haphazard in the dirt. Behind the farmhouse, I could make out what had once been distinct rows of crops. Now, they were shriveled and half-hidden beneath the untamed weeds.
I exchanged an uneasy look with Mason as we circled the buildings. Yara had gone alarmingly pale.
The front door to the farmhouse hung crookedly from a single hinge, as if it had been ripped open. The beams were splintered around the windows, and long scratches scored the wood and earth beneath the door.
Claw marks.
“We should move on,” Yara said, her voice thin with fear.
The others murmured their agreement. I rode up alongside Yara as we left the abandoned farmhouse behind.
“Is this the work of those demons?” I asked.
“The Council calls them chimera. I said they were demons because that’s what we call them among the servants.”
The gargoyles were chimera as well. Before Rebirth, they’d been native reptiles, but the war and Ninu’s experiments had changed them. If creatures like the gargoyles we’d seen yesterday had done this, maybe she hadn’t been exaggerating after all. Although we’d seen only one farmhouse, there were no doubt others.
We eventually came to a road, the first we’d seen since leaving Ninurta. Grooves had been worn into the earth from wagon wheels and carriages. Some of the ministers liked to travel in coaches pulled by Grays, but otherwise, wheeled vehicles weren’t something we saw much of in Ninurta.
“This is the Silver Road,” Yara said. The tension drained from her body as her eyes fixed on the mountains. “They say that, before the war, if you climbed the grandfather trees at sunset and gazed down at the road, it would be lit up like silver trimming.”
“Have you ever tried it?” I asked, smiling at the whimsy even though I wasn’t familiar with what she meant by “grandfather trees.”
“Once, when I was little. I didn’t get very high, though,” she said. “The road will take us to Vethe.”
“Tell me about Vethe,” I said. We’d barely had time to speak since our first meeting in the palace.
“For what we’ve been able to accomplish, it’s a beautiful city,” she said. “Stone sculptures, glimmer glass light posts, and cave blossoms everywhere.”
I looked between her and the mountains. There were three mountains, not quite a range. Their jagged silhouettes had sharpened into focus, but one of them was so tall, its peak pierced the clouds.
“Is Vethe beside the mountains?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Vethe is inside the mountains.” She pointed at the smallest of them, although “small” wasn’t exactly accurate. “We call it the Kahl’s Mountain. But it wasn’t always so. The original Vethe is that way.” She pointed to our left. “The ruins are still there. But it’s a sad place. I don’t like to see it.”
I watched plumes of fog drift across the rocky sides of the mountains, the beauty of it calling to the wanderlust inside me.
A scream pierced the air.
We all drew up, spinning in circles to pinpoint the source. A second scream echoed from our right. The sentinels took off, their scouts diving into the trees. I followed a beat behind them, with Yara so close to my side that our scouts nearly grazed each other. Her face was white with terror.
Through the scatter of trees, I could see another farmhouse up ahead. This one was larger than the last, a two-story stone building. We stopped short of the fence to take in the scene. My knees pressed into the sides of my scout, and I had to fight the urge to turn and run. Beside me, Yara made a sound like a stifled moan.
More shouts issued from inside the house. For a moment, all of us were frozen, watching the creatures rake at the walls.
There were two of them. They were three times the size of the gargoyles that Irra had tamed. Short pointed horns protruded from their leathery skin in uneven rows along their jaws. Layers of bony ridges sloped back from their brows into more horns that rose from the tops of their heads and then continued down their spines. They stood differently from the gargoyles, their bulkier upper bodies supported by forelimbs that were thicker and longer than their hind legs. Long claws slashe
d at the sturdy house with intimidating force. One of the chimera had shattered a window. Its head was too large to fit through, so it had wrapped its body around the corner of the house and thrust its arm into the window, clawing at what it could reach.
Like the gargoyles’ frills, these creatures’ bony spines quivered as they reared and roared. Their mouths were huge, and their jaws looked powerful enough to crush our scouts.
Mason and the sentinels snapped out of their shock and dropped from their mounts. Each withdrew a torch blade from the compartments beneath their seats. Miraya hadn’t wanted them leaving without weapons, and I was glad for it. My eyes found Mason. He already had his weapon in hand and was circling around the fence to attack from the other side.
By now, the chimera had noticed our arrival. The one not trying to dig through the window turned away from the house. Its upper body puffed up in an aggressive stance, its mouth opened wide to reveal daggerlike teeth as long as my fingers.
Gret, Winnifer, and Aylis converged on it. The chimera lunged at them, its head battering at the nearest body, its rows of horns as deadly as its teeth. It was slower than a gargoyle, which meant the sentinels were better able to dodge. Normal human soldiers, however, wouldn’t have stood much of a chance against these creatures.
Aylis swung his torch blade into the creature’s tail. The weapon seared through thick lizard skin, and the chimera roared. It whipped around, its swinging tail slamming him off his feet.
The other sentinels jumped into action, striking fast and then darting out of range. It was dizzying to watch them fight. They moved almost too swiftly for my eyes to follow, their swords arcs of light that drew blood and frenzied roars.
Gret cried out as the chimera’s claws caught her leg. She stumbled. Winnifer dived to her side, lugging her out of range before the chimera could do more damage.
Helplessness gripped me. My fingers dug into the metal of my scout’s shoulders, and my legs itched restlessly. I needed to do something, but Mason had taught me how to defend against a torch blade, not how to use one. I had a simple dagger stored beneath my seat, but it would do little good.
I grappled for threads that weren’t there. Where my power had been, only a hole remained, siphoning away a little more of me every time I reached instinctually for the threads only to be confronted again with their absence. I’d never felt their loss more keenly.
At the other end of the house, where the second chimera focused on trying to force its way inside, Mason had leaped onto its back. The chimera’s bony spines made for convenient hand- and footholds as Mason clung on and tried to angle his torch blade for a strike to the neck. The chimera flailed and bucked wildly. Mason’s grip broke. He tumbled off, rolling and skidding through the dirt. Dennyl tried to distract the creature, but it charged after Mason.
I jumped from my scout, running as soon as my feet touched the ground.
Mason’s sword hand jerked up as the chimera bore down on him. The blade pierced the chimera beneath its chin, burying into its skull. It gave a guttural cry and then collapsed in a heap at Mason’s feet. Puffs of dirt shot into the air around its heavy body. Mason rolled away, clutching his bleeding arm.
I shouted for Yara to remain where she was as I crossed the yard. Mason was already on his feet, pulling his weapon free of the chimera’s skull. A furious roar and the scrabbling sound of claws digging into the dirt made me spin around to keep the other chimera in my field of vision. In an instant, Mason was in front of me, the gentle brush of his fingers on my shoulder a wordless command to stay behind him.
Aylis and the others had taken the chimera down. It lay on its side, its body twitching. Winnifer stabbed her torch blade into its chest, and it went still.
Mason sheathed his weapon just as the front door opened a crack. The door was wood, but reinforced with metal. That was probably the only reason the chimera hadn’t been able to break it down as easily as they had the other farmhouse door. A frightened face peered out at us.
“It’s okay,” I said, approaching carefully. I put out my hands so she’d see I wasn’t carrying a weapon. “The chimera are dead.”
The door opened wider, and a woman stepped out, wearing a dirt-stained dress and stockings. She surveyed the mess of her yard. Her cheeks were still wet.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice hoarse from screaming.
“Friends,” I said hastily. “Are you and your family all right? It’s safe to come out now.”
Her chin trembled. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “We’ll never be safe until these monsters are gone from Lanathrill,” she said. Someone in the house behind her rested his hands on her shoulders, attempting to comfort her.
I looked to Yara, wan and unmoving against the backdrop of the trees. A regular army of soldiers should have been able to handle a few chimera. But if Yara was telling the truth—that Lanathrill would be overrun—then there were more than just a few of these out there. Maybe Lanathrill did need Ninurta’s help. I would have to see what their Kahl had to say about it.
“Kai!”
Something in Mason’s voice made me tense. I hurried over to where he and the others were standing over one of the chimera. I gave him a quizzical look before seeing for myself what had caught their attention. I snatched at Mason’s sleeve to steady myself.
Beneath the ridges at the crown of the chimera’s head were the red markings of a collar.
CHAPTER 13
MY CONFUSION WAS reflected in the faces around me. I turned back to Yara.
“When did you say the chimera began attacking your people?” I asked.
Yara had dismounted from her scout. “A few months ago. Before then, they had remained in the Yellow Wastes. We figured it was because they were territorial. But then the first attack happened, and the rest began crossing into Lanathrill. There’ve been a dozen within the last month.”
Ninu must have branded these creatures to use them as the Outlands’ border guards. The history texts claimed that he’d lost control over the experiments and unleashed them into the Outlands, but maybe that was what he’d wanted us to think. The chimera would keep the outside world at bay, and the gargoyles would keep Ninurta and its people isolated.
When Ninu died, these creatures had been freed from control, like the sentinels. Now, they were running loose, a danger to everyone in their path.
This was Ninu’s doing, which meant this was now Ninurta’s responsibility. Anger rushed through my limbs. Even now, I wasn’t free of him.
“How far is Vethe?” I asked, stalking across the yard to reach my scout.
Yara jumped back onto hers. She looked more composed. “We should reach the capital in a couple of hours.”
“You should pack up and head for Vethe as well,” I said to the woman still cowering in her doorway.
Mason and the sentinels mounted up, and we turned into the trees toward the Silver Road.
The Kahl’s Mountain rose above us like a path into the clouds. The Silver Road sloped upward as the terrain grew rockier and more treacherous. Yara quickened her pace and shouted, pointing ahead.
Set into the mountain was a pair of imposing metal doors, greater even than the ones that had greeted us in Etu Gahl.
As we approached, the doors groaned open. The earth beneath us shuddered. Loose pebbles and debris cascaded down the mountainside. The dark abyss into which the doors had opened was less than inviting.
But once we were standing directly in front of the doors, I could see a bright glow from deep within the mountain. Coming up the tunnel was a man on horseback, a torch of some kind in his hand. Behind him was a contingent of guards. They emerged from the mountain, and the man on horseback paused in front of Yara, his soldiers fanning out behind him on foot.
I admired the glossy brown coat of the horse before studying Lanathrill’s soldiers. They made for an impressive lineup. They wore a combination of leather and metal armor. Thick leather breastplates matched the layered leather pauldron on one shoulder. A m
etal pauldron that shone silver covered their other shoulder, presumably their sword arms. The same starburst as Yara’s tattoo was finely rendered into the metal of their vambraces. Broad swords with hilts nearly a foot long were strapped at their waists.
The rider was dressed differently from the others. His breastplate bore the starburst, the design branded into the sturdy leather. The detailing in his armor was more intricately engraved. A heavy silver cloak draped down his back, and on his head sat a simple circlet, its single white gem glittering in the daylight.
Yara had scrambled off her scout at the sight of him and was now bowed so low that her forehead practically touched the ground. It was a safe bet that this was Kahl Emryn.
His eyes narrowed at our lack of deference. I gave him a polite nod, but that was all he was getting from me.
His soldiers stared at our scouts with a mixture of fascination and wariness. Emryn’s horse shied away, uncertain of the metal beasts, but he steadied the creature and passed Yara, approaching me instead. He had rough features, plain if not for the slight offset of a crooked jaw, with brown hair that dusted his shoulders and sharp green eyes set in a face that was young but hardened by the weight of leadership.
Emryn held a metal rod, topped by a cluster of radiant crystals. I wasn’t sure now if it was supposed to be a scepter or a makeshift torch. He looked us over, taking note of Mason’s and Gret’s wounds with a furrow of his brow. They were no doubt healed by now, but the bloodstains remained as evidence of our recent scuffle. No one spoke.
He nodded curtly. Then he turned his horse away and trotted back into the tunnel. His soldiers parted, forming a path for us to follow him. Yara climbed back onto her scout and moved forward.
“It’s okay,” she said, looking over her shoulder at us.
