by Liz Delton
With one last glance at Lightcity’s gate, they headed south, following the Scouts to the fifth city—the place Governor Greyling thought was important enough to start a war.
Seven
The Scouts had stopped for a rest, so they did too. Their journey had already led them through the wilds between Riftcity and Meadowcity, and Sylvia knew they must be getting closer to the fifth city as they traveled south.
Thoughts of home had beckoned as they passed the area she knew to be close to Meadowcity. A pair of Scouts had separated from the group at that point, but they headed west, presumably for Riftcity.
Riftcity’s plight still lurked in the back of Sylvia’s mind, but Meadowcity’s needs always overpowered it. Sure, she had seen firsthand what the Scouts had done to Riftcity: the violent destruction it had left on the beautiful city’s structure, and its people, but Meadowcity was her home. She must protect it, and those inside.
And Meadowcity would burn much faster.
Neve was proving to be an admirable traveling partner. She managed to keep quiet as they moved about, unlike those last two memorable traveling companions, Flint and then Ember, who had both seemed committed to making as much noise as they could as they moved through the wilds. Neve didn’t talk much either, and Sylvia could tell she was struggling with something inside—perhaps she felt guilty for leaving her uncle? It sounded like he was the only family she had, from what little they had spoken so far.
The first night tailing the Scouts, Sylvia had been too nervous to sleep, and had taken watch all night. It was still her first time back on the trail in months, and she had a hard time trusting a girl she just met to watch her as she slept. But she knew she couldn’t continue that habit. Without any sleep she would be useless on the trail.
So she had been forced to place her trust in Neve the next night to keep watch. It reminded her of the hasty journey back to Meadowcity with Ember—a girl she had barely known at the time.
Back home, she couldn’t get rid of Ember these days—she was living in the villa, helping to train Luna, even playing with Sonia at times. The girl was always trying to stay busy, and Sylvia knew she didn’t like staying cooped up in the unfamiliar city.
Sylvia wished she could have brought Luna with her, but when she left, the plan had been to infiltrate Lightcity. At the time, she had no idea how long she was going to be inside the city, gathering information. She certainly hadn’t expected to leave the next morning.
Through the dark trees, Sylvia could see several camp fires flickering from the Scout’s camp. Sylvia and Neve couldn’t light a fire, or any lamps, but they were used to it by now. She settled in, pulling her dinner out of her pack by the dim light of the stars and moon, trying to think of something to talk about.
She had already told Neve the whole story of Meadowcity and Riftcity’s involvement in the war, about Flint’s escape and his warning, and the battle at Summer’s End. Each new fact made Neve’s jaw drop a little more.
Sylvia wondered what it would have been like if Gero had accepted Greyling’s demand for submission—if she would have been as oblivious as Neve, their whole city kept in the dark and blindly following Skycity’s instructions. But if all three cities had given in, then it would be the fifth city that was in danger.
She was sure Greyling’s true campaign of terror would have surfaced at some point—surely even the cities that willingly submitted to him would suffer. Food supplies and medical treatments would decline if everyone in the city was forced to do labor, and she was sure Greyling’s plan didn’t include fair treatment of his workers.
He seemed to have been set back with Meadowcity’s refusal, though, since apparently he needed to wait for a sufficient amount of boats to launch whatever scheme he was brewing.
Sylvia couldn’t possibly imagine what the fifth city would be like, or why Greyling would risk so much to obtain it. She hoped she could convince them to offer some help if they could—they seemed to be the indirect cause of it all, anyway.
After a wide space of silence, they quietly agreed that Sylvia would take first watch, and Neve second. The Lightcity girl ducked under a blanket and her cloak, wedged against a fallen tree for warmth.
Sylvia purposefully shunned her blanket, needing the cold to help stay alert. She sat propped against a tree, and pulled out her new dagger to examine the carvings again in the cold moonlight.
There had been a short note inside the box Ven had given her: A piece of Meadowcity, from me to you. She figured he had carved it from some of the fallen trimmings of the treewall. It was a marvelous gift.
She shrugged her shoulders tighter on herself as she thought of Ven. Now that her original mission to Lightcity had been so easily rearranged, she truly couldn’t predict where the war would take her next, nor what would happen between her and Ven. She didn’t even know when she would return to Meadowcity.
They had passed Meadowcity only the other day, and Sylvia had briefly entertained the idea of sending Neve there to let them know her change of plans; but it wouldn’t be smart—or safe—to send the girl on her own through the wilds. Not when so many beasts lurked in the forest.
Sylvia had finally given Neve a blade the other day, perhaps so that Neve would feel safe, or because Sylvia thought she could use all the help she could get if something went wrong.
She studied the wolf’s head dagger, her ears alert for any sound of danger. Ven’s carving was beautiful. The wolf’s jaw hung open, with tiny teeth rising out of its mouth. She knew Ven carved in his spare time, but she had never expected anything this good.
Maybe there was a lot she didn’t know about him.
She let out a sigh, refusing to let herself feel guilty for her tepidity with him.
It’s better this way, she told herself. Not making any promises meant not hurting anyone’s feelings if things changed. And her world was full of change right now.
In a bitter mood she went back to dutifully studying the dark woods around them. The Scouts’ fires glowed dimly orange through the black silhouettes of trees that separated the two camps.
Eventually it was time to wake Neve for her watch. The girl took out the knife Sylvia had given her and sat in the shadow of a tree, a fierce gleam in her eye. The girl looked wide awake.
Sylvia finally curled up under her blanket. She pulled her hands into the sleeves of her knit jacket, with one hand still gripping the hilt of her dagger. She fell asleep on the forest floor, with silence and darkness pressing in all around her.
Eight
It was dawn when a strange feeling made Sylvia wake. With her heart inexplicably racing, she opened her eyes as she unsheathed the dagger she had held while sleeping.
Neve was sitting rigidly against the tree, her eyes so wide that her eyebrows were halfway up her scalp. The haze of sleep fell off Sylvia so quickly at Neve’s expression that she was wide awake immediately. Her heart thumped against her chest as she sought the danger.
Slowly, ever so carefully, Sylvia turned her head in the direction Neve was staring. In the deepest recesses of her heart, she already knew what it would be.
Toward them stalked a sinewy wolf, its fur black as night, with a few white markings on its ears. Its lips were curled up to reveal sharp, white teeth, and a growl reverberated from between its jaws.
Sylvia’s stomach turned to stone.
The creature moved with sinister grace through the trees. Past it, Sylvia could see that the Scout camp was empty. They had moved on, but this wolf hadn’t.
Sylvia twisted into motion just as the wolf did.
The animal aimed for Neve, since she was closer. In a flash, Sylvia’s shoulder rammed into its flank, knocking it away from Neve, who had scurried backwards on her hands and feet, finally unfrozen.
Teeth bared and dripping saliva, the beast now faced Sylvia, but she wasn’t afraid—after months of training with her own wolf, she knew these animals inside and out.
But the Scouts trained their beasts in their own way, and t
he dark wolf lunged for her knife hand, clearly knowing it should disarm its opponent first. Sylvia flung herself backwards, pivoting on a heel to keep the beast in front of her. It skidded past her, then whipped itself around, having missed its mark.
Sylvia darted in, the dagger a lethal extension of her arm, sailing toward the wolf’s side.
She would have to kill it, because if it returned to the Scouts with human-made wounds, they would know there was an enemy out in the wilds nearby.
Her slash missed by a hairs-breadth as the animal dodged and rolled away in an impressive and unnatural move. It had been trained well.
But Sylvia realized too late that it had rolled back toward Neve’s direction. She had a wild thought that it could sense Neve was the weaker target.
The Lightcity girl had the borrowed knife in her grip, but merely stared, eyes wide, as the animal approached. The girl was completely frozen in her tracks, terror written across her face.
Without a thought, Sylvia hurtled herself at it, throwing her whole body onto the animal, her arms flung wide.
She collided with the furry beast, knocking them both into a tumble in the dirt. Sylvia barely registered kicking Neve as she and the wolf toppled to the ground, with Sylvia fighting to keep away from its snapping jaw. She inhaled a whiff of its wolfy scent as she struggled to retain her grip on the beast, now fighting to free itself. Sylvia buried her dagger in its side.
Wounded, the beast fought harder under Sylvia’s weight. With a final jerk of her arm, she sunk the dagger deep into its chest this time, ending it.
Sylvia’s veins sang with energy as the adrenaline spent itself. She pulled herself up off the beast, heart racing as if she’d just been running, her hand sticky with blood.
Neve stared down at the dark wolf, still clutching the knife. The girl blinked several times. Sylvia looked away from the dead wolf, for once feeling sorry for one of the beasts.
The Scouts had made it this way. She had been forced to kill it. To protect Neve, and herself.
Her own Luna had a wild side, but Sylvia had trained her wolf to protect her, and obey; not to attack and maim like the Scouts had done. They were much worse than the wild wolves, who only sought to protect themselves and their territory. Sylvia shook her head in disgust.
She could tell Neve needed a minute; your first wolf encounter wasn’t something you just shook off. And Sylvia had a feeling Neve would be embarrassed, having frozen like that. So she wiped her bloody hands on a patch of moss, brushed the dirt from her clothes, and waited.
While scanning the woods around them for any sign of movement, Sylvia took deep breaths to calm down her pounding heart. The forest was quiet and still, and the morning sun filtered in warmly through the bare trees, shining down on their camp; the site spoiled only by the dead wolf laying there.
She held out her hand to Neve, who took it and rose. The girl let out a shaky breath as she fumbled to return the knife to her belt.
“Was that—was that one of the Scouts’ beasts?”
“They’re odd fighters,” Sylvia said with a nod. “They know how to disable a person, to go for the weakest target—” she winced, as Neve ducked her head.
“Would you teach me how to fight?” the older girl asked abruptly.
Sylvia raised an eyebrow. “There’s a lot to learn,” she hedged, but then had an idea.
“But in Meadowcity, we’re training even regular citizens to fight, to join the guard—Defenders, we’re calling them. My friend Ven is doing the weapons training.”
Neve smiled weakly. “I’m not very good at much at home. I’m always breaking things in my uncle’s shop. I don’t know if I would be any good.”
Sylvia shrugged. “Well, you won’t know if you never try,” she said, realizing as the words came out of her mouth that it was something her mother would say. She smiled, allowing herself a brief moment to think of home.
After a minute, she dutifully turned her thoughts back to the journey at hand, and told Neve that they would be leaving shortly.
She made quick work of hiding the wolf, using fallen branches and brush to cover it. It would be better to burn it and get rid of it completely, but they didn’t have the time. She didn’t know how early the Scouts had left their camp, or how far their ultimate destination was.
So she and Neve erased all traces of their campsite, which wasn’t much, and headed south.
Nine
As she walked a few paces behind Sylvia, Neve pictured again and again the wolf’s attack this morning. Had she wanted the beast to kill her?
She had frozen completely. The knife Sylvia had kindly given to her lay useless in her hands, her fingers stiff and unmoving, refusing to defend herself.
Neve had been unable to sleep their entire journey, ever since she had heard what the explosives—her explosives—were being used for.
She couldn’t begin to fathom the depths of her idiocy. She should have known Skycity was doing something wrong. Why else would that enormous man have been seeking something so destructive, weeks before Lightcity had even been told of the war?
The false war that Greyling had fed them, as he coerced Governor Estella into selling them out. Neve felt sick again. She took a few deep breaths and focused on the path, watching Sylvia’s feet as the Rider forged a path through the trees.
“You’re very quiet,” Sylvia said, glancing back.
“I’ve just—got a lot on my mind,” was all Neve could think of.
Sylvia chuckled. “No—I meant, you’re very quiet in the woods. I’ve traveled with others before, and it’s hard to stop from yelling at them to quit stomping their feet or snapping every twig on the path. It’s not really something you can teach.”
An unexpected smile rose to Neve’s lips, but then she forced the corners of her mouth back down. She didn’t deserve to smile; not yet.
They trekked on through the afternoon, steadily covering ground in a dense part of the wilds, the forest spotted with evergreens.
“Maybe you should consider training to be a Rider,” Sylvia mused after a long space of silence.
Neve couldn’t stop the slight smile at that. “My father was a Rider.”
“Well, there you go,” Sylvia said, as if that settled it.
They walked on for the rest of the day, following the Scouts at a distance so great Neve couldn’t even see them. But Sylvia appeared to be following subtle indications on the trail. Neve couldn’t help but constantly check the woods around them for any sign of another wolf.
Another night on the ground came and went. A root had dug into her hip when she lay down to pretend to sleep, but she didn’t move, didn’t find a more comfortable patch of dirt to lay on. She still didn’t deserve it.
But when the sun finally rose, Neve found herself being shaken awake by Sylvia. Sleep had finally caught up with her, and she was reluctantly grateful for the rest.
As they took to the trail, she thought of her father, and what he would think of her becoming a Rider. And then her mind was flooded with bitter relief; relief that he would never know what his daughter had done, what she had let happen to Arcera.
* * *
Neve nearly refused to believe her eyes.
They had reached the edge of the wilds, and the Scouts had finally stopped. Sylvia had wanted to get closer, so they had crept through the forest, deadly silent, until they were close enough to see what the group was up to—so close they could even see their faces.
Falcon was with them.
Neve watched as he tossed a scrap of food to his beast, a muscled mountain lion with a gleaming tan coat. It’s clawed paws were as big as his hands.
Of course he’s with them, she thought, he was never anything but a damn Scout.
A flash of anger surged through her, feeding off nearly a week with little sleep. It was just her luck to witness his further betrayal of her.
She had no more room in her heart to mourn their friendship. It was already overfilled with such intense regret and guil
t, that she just swallowed it down, thinking it was just what she deserved.
The Scouts lurked on the edge of the wood.
“They must be spying on the city or something,” Sylvia whispered, so quietly that Neve had to read the Rider’s lips to understand.
Neve could only see a swath of open water past the trees where the Scouts had stopped, so the city must be further out on the water.
The trained wolves and lions were on tethers now, and Neve sincerely hoped none were out roaming the woods nearby. She slid her knife out of its sheath, as Sylvia had done, and waited.
The men took their time unpacking various instruments and tools, and then even more time fiddling with them. Neve watched with narrowed eyes as Falcon held a telescope to his eye while maintaining a monologue with the Scout next to him, who made notes in a little book.
They all stayed within the safety of the trees until the late afternoon began to fade into night, then they packed their tools and hid their gear in the brush under the trees.
Neve watched incredulously as Falcon pulled off his heavy leather vest. The rest of the Scouts, too, were removing their boots, weapons and belts; and hid them along with their gear. Neve exchanged a look with Sylvia, her brow creased. Were they going in the water?
As the sun dipped below the horizon, erasing all shadows, the Scouts emerged from the trees and onto the low stone cliff that separated the woods from the water. They left Sylvia and Neve’s line of vision and Sylvia cursed under her breath. They rose to follow them.
They had to make a wide arc around the lions and wolves, left tethered to trees by the Scouts’ gear. Neve hoped the beasts didn’t catch their scent.
Sylvia began to jog, and Neve followed suit, concerned they were going to lose the Scouts.
