The Fifth City

by Liz Delton

  Sylvia’s heart leapt, but she kept her face blank. She had finished the simulation the quickest? And to stay in Seascape…

  But she had responsibilities. Meadowcity needed her. They needed the help the Lady promised.

  “Of course, you’re concerned about our bargain,” the Lady said. “I have a gift for you to take, if you do choose to leave. I know you have enjoyed these past weeks on our beautiful isle; but I understand your desire to return home.”

  Sylvia flinched as someone came up from behind her and handed Lady Naomi a box. The man—one of the Lady’s guards—turned and left without a word.

  Naomi put the box in the center of the table. It was silver, like the boxes the earlinks came in, but much bigger, about the size of a large teapot. Sylvia’s hands curled around the edge of her seat.

  “When you came here seeking our help, I agreed to offer you aid in your country’s war. I will allow you to keep your earlink, your pilfered datawoven wristlet, and this—”

  She slid the top off the box.

  Sylvia’s stomach had sunk. Her earlink and wristlet? What good would those be against Greyling? She leaned forward and looked inside, her hope rising.

  Nestled between wooden shavings sat a black bird.

  It wasn’t a real bird, it had an odd matte sheen to it, and it sat perfectly still.

  It was a drone.

  Sylvia’s mouth opened with a little pop. Her mind began to soar with the possibilities of Meadowcity having their own drone that they could use to watch over Arcera.

  “You will also find,” the Lady indicated the box, “an independent looking-glass, on which you can watch the vids from your drone. They are both self-sufficient, able to power themselves. You just need to expose them to sunlight once in a while so they can charge, like your earlink. I trust with your aptitude for our technology, you can figure out how to operate them.”

  Lady Naomi looked down fondly at the drone. “Marvelous creations. If you return, you could even help write programs to develop the technology. You have it in you, you know.”

  The Lady pierced her with an expectant glare. Sylvia’s stomach squirmed, and she quickly looked back down at the unmoving bird.

  “I won’t require you to give me an answer now,” the Lady said, and slid the box across the table. “But I’m sure we will be seeing each other again.”

  For once, Sylvia couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  She didn’t know what she had been expecting from the Lady—a weapon of sorts, or a way to protect Meadowcity like the electric shock defense—but the earlink, the drone? It was a start.

  And she hadn’t even thought about having to give up her earlink before now. It had become a part of her, using it had turned into second nature.

  Sylvia grasped the box and pulled it closer.

  “I’m afraid if you’re to leave today, we’re on quite a tight schedule,” Lady Naomi began. “You’ll have to notify Oliver when you’re done packing, and he can arrange a boat to the mainland this afternoon.”

  This afternoon? Sylvia’s heart began to race. She thought she would have some time to get ready to leave, say goodbye…

  Everything was moving so quickly now. First she was swept away from the western shore and directly to Lady Naomi, right after having to endure that horrifyingly vivid simulation, and now she had to pack and go this afternoon? She barely had any time to say goodbye to Atlan.

  “Well, Sylvia, this is it,” Naomi announced.

  Sylvia was struck mute. It was all happening too fast.

  “We will meet again; soon, I am sure,” the Lady said, and craned her long neck towards the Rider in farewell.

  Sylvia gripped the silver box, found her voice, and replied, “Soon.”

  Forty Six

  Neve gritted her teeth as she approached the Citizen’s Hall, on her way to meet Falcon. Her stomach twisted in knots as she thought over what she was going to say.

  Weeks ago, she had begrudgingly visited him, feeling obligated to tell him what happened to Lightcity. No one else in Meadowcity wanted to speak to the Scout, and she felt like he needed to know what happened, what he had been somewhat responsible for.

  He had been staying in the Citizen’s Hall—though he would call it locked in—since they arrived. It was true, there was a guard at his door, and he wasn’t allowed to go further than the washroom, but Neve understood Gero’s caution. Everyone here hated the Scouts, and Neve knew better than anyone how he could deceive.

  Ever since she had broken the news to Falcon, she had reluctantly agreed to visit him sometimes, though she offered no promises as to how often.

  The closest person Neve had to a friend in the city, Ember, had left a few days ago for Riftcity. Neve had declined the offer to go, though she had been flattered Gero had asked her. She wanted to stay with her uncle.

  Having no home to return to, Harry had been offered a place in another Meadowcitizen’s house, and Neve continued to stay with the Thornes. The Rider’s parents joked about Ember, and now Neve, being their replacement for a daughter. Neve assured them—and Sylvia’s sister, Sonia—that the Rider was safe, that the people in the fifth city wouldn’t hurt her. She truly hoped she was right.

  Neve approached the room that Falcon had been assigned, and she nodded to the Defender standing outside.

  She knocked, and Falcon appeared a moment later. His face was clear of bruises now, and the past few weeks had greatly helped the rest of his wounds, which the Healers had expertly treated on Gero’s orders.

  He smiled. Her heart constricted at the sight of it.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He opened the door wide, and with an exaggerated look at the Defender, pulled two chairs to sit right in front of the doorway. Neve took one, and he lowered himself into the other.

  The room was pretty barren—it was an unused office in the Hall’s basement—but they had provided a bed, a table and a few chairs. She spotted a book resting open on the table. She knew he was being treated well; she had begged Ember to talk to Gero about it, and the redhead made sure he was taken care of, even if she didn’t like the Scout.

  Neve missed the Riftcity girl already; she had been the only person here that didn’t make her feel guilty, or confused, every time she saw them. She still felt awful for leaving her uncle, and of course every time she thought of Lightcity, she thought of the orbs. And then there was Falcon…

  “Come to forgive me?” he asked, turning a corner of his mouth up in a half-smile.

  “Falcon…” she complained.

  “Never mind,” he said quickly.

  It was always so hard with Falcon. They had been so close, and now she just wished none of it had ever happened. “Listen, Gero’s said he’ll let you out of the Hall—”

  “Really?” he sat up straighter in the chair and glanced at the guard at the door.

  “—If you’re given a job.”

  “What kind of job? I can’t exactly do any exploring.”

  “Well,” she paused.

  Was it really worth it? Should I really be doing this?

  “I have a job for you.”

  There, she said it. There was no going back now.

  “My uncle and I are setting up shop with one of the glassworkers. If Meadowcity’s going to have any protection at all, we’re going to need help. We’ll need to make our own weapons.”

  Forty Seven

  Oliver silently walked Sylvia back to her room, correctly guessing that she didn’t want to talk. He said he would be in the castle the rest of the day setting up for the ceremony; so whenever she was ready, she should link him.

  Inside her room, she found that her weapons had been returned to her, and she nearly cried when she saw the knife Ven had given her.

  She wasn’t ready to go home.

  In a daze she pulled her pack out of her wardrobe and began to sort through her few belongings. A meal had been laid out on her table while she had been gone, along with several polished canisters that she could
pack food in.

  At one point Medina came by her suite, and Sylvia really did cry; the woman had been like a mother to her during the strange and confusing time spent living in the castle. For the first time, Sylvia promised aloud she would return one day.

  But how was she to find Atlan? She had never figured out where he stayed in the castle, though she could go through the halls with the map again, reading the names of the rooms.

  And then it dawned on her—she could just link with him. She was only just getting used to what it was like to live in Seascape. It wasn’t fair that she had to leave.

  She pulled on the half-sleeve that was now rightfully hers, and connected in an instant. She sent her mind forth to find Atlan, sending a coil of her light to seek him.

  Atlan?

  Sylvia! You finished your Trial quick, didn’t you? She could feel the smile in his voice.

  Where are you? she asked.

  He hesitated for a second. The clearing in the woods. I needed a break. The joy had completely disappeared.

  I’ll be there in a few minutes, she promised, then added, I have to leave today.

  When he didn’t reply, she cut the link and pulled up the map of the castle. She shut her eyes for a second, then gathered her thoughts and left the suite.

  As she followed the labyrinthine corridors down, she wondered if she would be able to link with Atlan while she was away in Meadowcity. She didn’t know how far the connection would go. She would have to ask.

  She could feel the seconds ticking down the time she had left in Seascape. Each one tugged her heart further and further away from the island, and from those who held her heart here. But the plight of those in Meadowcity was greater, and the guilt that swarmed her thoughts was warranted. She had no right to abandon them. Meadowcity was her home.

  Finally she found the last corridor and she bolted out the door and into the countryside. She ran. The sound of the ocean soothed her, and she felt safe. It was nothing like the wilds of the Four Cities.

  It wasn’t long until she reached the clearing in the woods, her and Atlan’s claimed place.

  He had been pacing the clearing, and he turned when he heard her footfalls through the trees.

  She strode to him with only one thought in her mind. It took only a few steps to reach him.

  She kissed him fiercely, with all her soul. Her eyes closed and his warm mouth responded equally to hers; he wrapped a hand around her waist and the other dove into her hair.

  And then the bliss burned with savage pain as she remembered. This was goodbye.

  She broke away. “Come with me,” she implored, the words surprising her as they came out of her mouth.

  Atlan took her in his arms, and she brought her hands up to his face, looking straight into those piercing grey eyes.

  “I…can’t,” he said, looking away.

  I understand, she linked to him.

  He shook his head. He tried to smile, but she could see something was wrong. The light disappeared from his eyes entirely.

  “Sylvia, I have to tell you something,” he croaked suddenly, anguish clear in his pained gaze.

  Her chest swelled with a sudden feeling of doom.

  “What?” she asked, knowing whatever it was, she didn’t think she wanted to know. What was tearing him up like this?

  His jaw clenched. “Now that I’ve passed the Trials,” he uttered, “Naomi expects me to carry on the family tradition.”

  Sylvia’s brow wrinkled. “But I thought that’s what they were all about—earning your heritage?”

  “You don’t understand,” he whispered, pulling away and taking his head in his hands. “My heritage is the problem. I don’t know if I want to—be like them.”

  “What do you mean?” He was starting to scare her.

  “Do you know about the founder of Seascape, Karalyn Arcere?” he demanded suddenly.

  Sylvia nodded, a wall of dread building in her heart. What did that have to do with anything?

  Atlan inhaled deeply. “Lady Naomi—my mother—is her granddaughter,” he whispered.

  “Granddaughter?” Sylvia repeated, baffled. “But the Four Cities were founded over a thousand years ago.” Her eyes narrowed. “That’s impossible. She’d have to be—”

  “Over two hundred years old,” he finished.

  Forty Eight

  This is so weird,” Flint said as he and Ember hopped over a little stream.

  “Weirder than what?” she asked.

  Ember was delighting in the fact that they were finally on their way to Riftcity; and that Gero had taken her so seriously and given her a good group of people.

  “It’s just, I actually remember this part of the wilds—that stream even—from when I came back last time with Sylvia and Ven.”

  Ember’s eye’s flicked ahead to where Ven marched along, silent. He hadn’t taken Lightcity’s destruction well—not that it was something anyone could easily cope with—but he seemed to blame himself. Ember had spent plenty of time on their trip talking to Flint about what happened. None of them could have seen that coming, and she certainly didn’t think it was Ven’s fault.

  The sun had set, but they moved along through the shadowed forest, many pairs of eyes watching the woods for Scouts or their beasts.

  They were getting close to the city now. Many of the Riders who had returned from Lightcity had volunteered for this journey, in addition to ten others from Meadowcity. Ember felt relatively safe in the wilds with such a large group, not to mention Luna following at her heels.

  She didn’t think Sylvia would mind that she took the wolf with her; besides, Ember had spent just as much time training the wolf as the Rider had. And who knew when Sylvia would get back from Seascape.

  Ember and Flint had debated whether or not the secret tunnel to their villa might have been discovered, and Ember had won out; she didn’t think the Scouts were that smart. So their contingent was coming up from the south to locate the tunnel entrance. It was their best chance to get into Riftcity.

  Ember was itching to do something to free her home. Without Riftcity, Greyling would have almost nothing left.

  The light was fading fast as they came up on a rise, covered in oak trees that cast their long shadows down the slope. Ember and Flint reached the front with Jet, who was leading the way.

  The crack of a stick was all the warning they had, but it wasn’t enough, for Ember was suddenly staring down an arrow aimed at her head.

  In the shadow of a tall oak, a woman stood, bow drawn. Out of the corner of her eye, Ember could see others appear from the shadows, arrows aimed at the rest of the group. They were surrounded.

  “Move, and I pin the back of your skull to a tree.” The woman leaned forward into the light.

  “Aunt Rekha?” Ember cried.

  Forty Nine

  Sylvia felt like the ground had opened up beneath her feet, swallowing up all of her senses; falling downward, spiraling into nothing. She was looking at Atlan through a tunnel miles below.

  Over two hundred years old?

  It was impossible. She closed her eyes and leaned into Atlan, no longer trusting her balance.

  He put his arms around her again, sending tingles down her back as he stroked her hair.

  “H—How?” she managed to say into his shoulder. But then something more important came to mind. “How old are you?” she hissed, and pulled away to look at him.

  “Eighteen,” he assured her. She sunk to the ground and pulled her knees up to her chest. Atlan sat beside her, staring at the grass as he spoke.

  “It’s part of the reason Seascape was abandoned by the other cities,” he told her, glancing at her to see how she was coping. He went on. “When Karalyn found the island, they discovered a lot of underground labs and technology that had been forgotten during the world wars. Things people on the island had been developing before the last war.”

  Sylvia stared at him as he spoke, eyes wide.

  “Lady Naomi is over two hundred year
s old?” she repeated.

  “It’s a serum,” he admitted with a heavy sigh. “Extends life, but it comes with a price.”

  “What?” she asked, when he didn’t go on.

  “Don’t you think it strange that an island with thousands of people, living longer lives, only has fourteen children of age?”

  A wave of understanding rolled over Sylvia. She hadn’t even thought about that.

  Atlan nodded as he watched the comprehension on her face.

  “The serum’s irreversible. And once you pass the Trials, you’re allowed to take it. Slows down your aging, but makes it harder to reproduce,” he mumbled.

  Sylvia rocked onto her back and stared up at the sky. After the simulation, she thought she had experienced the last of Seascape’s bizarre surprises. If Atlan told her they could fly, too, she felt like it wouldn’t be too surprising.

  Her eyes became lost in the low hanging clouds as her mind fought to come to terms with what he was telling her.

  Now the theatrics of the Trials and great speeches about heritage and earning rights all made sense. They weren’t just proving their worth for an abstract ritual. They were proving that they would be useful citizens, would be courageous, creative, and have the endurance for longer life.

  “So how long do people live?” she asked tentatively.

  He hesitated before telling her, “The Keeper of the Trials is five hundred and fourteen.”

  It was several more minutes before Sylvia could speak again. She had only just come to shaky terms with two hundred.

  “Why did she even let me do the Trials?” she wondered. Long life hadn’t been one of Lady Naomi’s gifts, even if Sylvia had proven herself. But the Lady had said she was tempted to make Sylvia a citizen…