Second Contact

by Guerric Haché, Keezy Young

  “What if she’s lying?”

  “If she’s lying and we believe her, she’s only buying herself a few days - a poor use of a lie. If she’s not and we disregard her, hundreds could die and a ghost walker could run loose.”

  “Why would she tell you exactly where the walker is, though? She could lie about that.”

  Isavel tapped her foot, but she had to humour their suspicions. “She wants to end this war, and protect her people. You and I both know she’s more than willing to sacrifice lives to achieve that. The life of a single ghost walker, and whoever is protecting him, doesn’t weigh very much on her mind. I don’t see why she would lie, especially not with a lie that still invites us onto the very island her people are hiding on. If she really wanted to lie, she could have sent us further away from the outers instead, into the mountains or up north.”

  Hail nodded after a moment, and the siblings traded wary shrugs before climbing back into the hauler cockpit. Isavel and Hail hauled themselves up on the flatbed, and as the hauler started thrumming over the grass and back towards the water, Hail tilted her head strangely, like something confused her.

  “Hail?”

  The hunter looked up, still frowning in puzzlement. “I spoke with the human man outside the greenhouse, Tanos. He’s not a ghost. In fact, his entire village was destroyed by them - killed or possessed. And yet now he finds himself working with them, treating them as human.” Her nose wrinkled. “I got the distinct impression he was sharing a bed with the ghost woman next to him as well.”

  Treating the ghosts as human. It sounded blasphemous, but at the same time it seemed to have come easily to Ada. Perhaps because she too was blasphemous. Isavel looked back out across the deep, salty waters. She felt for the small locator stone Ada had given her, making sure it was secure.

  Others, though? Could anyone else start to see them as human? She glanced out at the landscape slipping by as the hauler sped them along. “Did he say why?”

  “No. I don’t think he understood it himself.” Hail made a flicking gesture with her wrists. “I don’t understand why he isn’t angry.”

  Isavel rested a hand on her pack, and her fingers found the shape of the gun she could have returned to Ada today, if she had wanted to. “Just because we are ourselves doesn’t mean we know ourselves.”

  Hail nodded, grinning faintly. “Of course. The gods knew your wisdom when they chose you.”

  When they killed off her family to sever anything that might tie her down, and forced her into battle. Isavel grimaced. “I’m glad you think so.” If somebody was to believe the gods’ choice still made sense, or that they had even chosen her in any sense of the word, it might have to be Hail.

  Isavel set her mind to the more concrete problem - the question of what they would have to do once they returned to Glass Peaks. “Hail, I don’t think Mother Jera will be happy to see me. It would mean a lot for you to stand by me when I talk to her.”

  Hail looked baffled. “Did you think I would leave?”

  She chuckled. “No. I just don’t want you giving me side-eye while we’re there, that’s all.”

  Hail blushed again and looked away, watching as the hauler skimmed effortlessly from land to sea, speeding up over the water. “Of course, Herald.”

  The hauler sped straight toward the city, but Isavel kept her eyes on the salty water to the southwest, watching seabirds follow in the hauler’s wake. The evening sun was beginning to slide towards the island and the vast ocean beyond, the sky’s colour warming orange as though to retain the last of the day’s heat. It was peaceful, on the sea. It was a shame they would soon be marching an army across it.

  How would they do that, anyway, with half the city’s shore blocked off? She smiled. The more time it took them to figure that out, the better for everyone.

  When they arrived, Isavel was not surprised to see Glass Peaks still reeling from the chaos of the day before. Some people were fleeing the city entirely, but even more were in the streets - agitated, talking, shouting. The thirst for war had intensified. She saw people training and duelling, and there were more guns in the open than usual. And when she stepped into the streets, openly this time, her white clothes and her by-now-familiar face singled her out. People turned to her, cheered and cried out in surprise, and pumped their fists in the air.

  “Saint Isavel!”

  “Dragoneater!”

  “To war! To war!”

  And back she was, with people who hungered for death. Zoa and Ren followed her and Hail to the temple, and Isavel tried to keep a stony face. They wanted a war, and so they would get one. If she could get them a war that didn’t get many of them killed, all the better. If she could slip away into the night afterwards and finally focus on understanding her second life, all the better still.

  In the evening-lit temple, its glassy windows providing them with less and less light by the minute, she found Mother Jera in a room with Dendre Han and an unfamiliar man in coder garb. Mother Jera saw Isavel enter immediately, and her eyes narrowed, but the two men were too busy arguing to notice her.

  “Did you see what they did to the bridge? Those are concrete towers! ” Dendre the Bulwark was yelling. “What do you think will happen if they see us ferrying people across in little wooden boats? ”

  “We cannot allow this to go unanswered.” The coder responded by laying his hands flat on the table. His arms were unsteady, shaking, undermining the presentation of confidence. Elder Tan must have passed, and this must be the newly-chosen coder elder, a role he had been thrust into by death and circumstance. Isavel could sympathise, if only a little, as he tried to take control of his unexpected role. “We must take control of the situation.” She almost smiled.

  She spoke up, stepping further into the room. “It won’t go unanswered. How’s this for a surprise? The ghosts have another walker.”

  All three heads turned to stare at her. Dendre’s lips flattened and disappeared into his beard for a moment before he suddenly spoke. “Isavel? Gods, we’ve been searching for you since yesterday morning - where the hell have you been?”

  “Scouting.” She raised an eyebrow at Dendre, the Bulwark and leader of the guard. “Did any of you hear what I just said?”

  “ Another walker?” The new coder sounded bewildered. “But you killed the last one!”

  “The last two .” Isavel allowed herself a little pride in the correction.

  Mother Jera stepped in. “Saint Herald Isavel Valdéz, this is Elder Magan. He has just been appointed by the coder delegation.” Jera’s lip trembled a little. “Elder Tan passed yesterday evening. I am saddened you were not there, but I am certain the gods saw fit to send you elsewhere to help our city.”

  She glanced at Hail, and received a nod in turn. The coder siblings had disappeared into the temple on the way here, though, so it was just the five of them. “Helping this city and its inhabitants is my only charge, Mother Jera. Dendre Han is right - we can’t cross the open waters. Ada Liu has an ancient weapon that travels underwater like a fish, and she will kill anyone who makes directly for the city.

  Dendre seemed surprised, but still he crossed his arms and leaned back, glancing at Elder Magan. “See? I told you.”

  Mother Jera peered at her, and there was an oddly desperate look in her eye. “And what of this other walker?”

  “Apparently he’s hiding on the northern edge of the island - the same island the ghosts are hiding on. We need to hunt him down now before he causes any more trouble.”

  Dendre nodded along with her. “And it’s way easier to get our people safely across to the north - small islands, quick trips. It’s a detour, but it’ll save lives.”

  “Why not ignore the ghost walker?” Mother Jera seemed to be scrabbling for something. “They have not been raiding villages for bodies - it would seem they are not using him.”

  Isavel mocked a delighted face. “Then the ghosts aren’t a threat, and we can all stay home! Excellent.”

  Tension lingered
in the air for a moment, and Isavel saw Dendre’s eyes shift between herself and Mother Jera before the priestess answered. “You can’t be serious, Herald. What they did -”

  “Had little to do with the ghosts.” Isavel’s scowl returned. “That was retaliation for the deaths of outers. People from Glass Peaks attacked the city and killed dozens.”

  “ Dozens? For those numbers we should let ghosts who slaughtered thousands go free?”

  “Not free .” Isavel crossed her arms. “There have been enough incidents already. If we’re going to deal with the ghosts, we shall do so safely. Or would you gamble with human lives?”

  “How did you find this information so quickly?”

  She hesitated, and suddenly fear crept over her. She hadn’t thought this part of the conversation through. Hail was watching her. “I - I met with Ada Liu. I tried to negotiate a peace, convince her not to attack us.”

  “Wait, you met with her?” Magan exclaimed, his face darkening. “With Ada Liu? ”

  “I don’t know of any other Ada.”

  “You can’t trust anything she says!” Magan started flapping his hands. “She’s dangerous!”

  Isavel blinked at the man, unsure of how to respond. He was saying nothing new, and his nervous energy wasn’t helping matters. She decided it might be best to ignore his words entirely.

  She turned back to Jera. “Like the Bulwark was saying, the weapon that blasted that bridge will destroy anything that tries to cross the water near the outers’ city. Which is called Campus, by the way. There’s no way we can fight it, so we’ll need to avoid crossing the water too close to that city. That means going north. So while we’re there, I think we really should track down that last ghost walker, who’s close enough to their city that I don’t think Ada lied about his location. We don’t want them starting another campaign, do we?”

  Dendre grumbled in agreement. “If we’re starting a war, I like the Dragoneater’s plan better. The northern strait is narrow and rocky; it’ll be harder for them to move whatever huge underwater ship they have, and easier for us to get across safely.”

  Mother Jera blinked, looking between Isavel and Dendre. “As the elder priestess, I understand what the people need from the gods, and what the gods need from the people. But if you two are, for once, agreeing about how exactly to go about achieving that, I will have to trust your judgement.”

  Elder Magan fidgeted. Isavel wondered how old he was - his hair was not yet greying, his skin not yet starting to wrinkle or sag. He couldn’t be older than eighty, and he spoke with nervously young energy. “And we’re going to assume Ada isn’t leading us into a trap?”

  Isavel felt the small, solid presence of the locator stone, tucked away safely. “The gods and I were busy while I was there, too.” Isavel did not like to lie, but this wasn’t lying. Not exactly; it was simply misrepresenting the truth. “I have a way of tracking her movements. We’ll cross the northern waters, and I’ll alert everyone if she’s close.”

  “And if she sends something you can’t track?”

  “I can kill anything else they throw at us.” Isavel felt no misrepresentation was needed there. “The gods are with me on that.”

  “Very well.” Magan sighed, splitting his exasperation between her and Dendre. “If our fighters think this is the best course of action, we shall go north.”

  Isavel met the eyes of the three of them, and that was that. The people’s desire for war would now have a sanctioned target, and it was a target that should keep them out of harm’s way. But she wasn’t done, not yet. She knew she would have to speak to the people themselves - to channel their rage, their thirst for blood. To shirk that duty would risk everything spiraling out of control. She had to speak to them, and she knew where to do it.

  The thought weighed heavily. She had thought she was done with the Herald, but the Herald still had a part to play in all this.

  As she gestured to Hail and left the room, Dendre Han followed her out, stopping her before she could leave the temple. Hail looked at him without any expression; Isavel thought Hail might secretly respect the man, if not for the obvious animosity that existed between him and Isavel.

  Or, as it were, had existed. He clapped her on the shoulder. “You’re trying to save lives, kid. I can tell. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Isavel looked at him with some confusion. “What did you expect me to do?”

  “Rush off and start killing things. You’ve got to admit, you have a history of doing just that.”

  Isavel recalled more than one occasion where she had done just that; Dendre was right. She was loathe to say it out loud, though. “I’ve done what I felt was necessary, and I don’t feel that’s necessary right now.”

  “It’s not.” He shook his head. “I get the feeling you’re not walking on clouds anymore, Dragoneater. Are you alright?”

  She shrugged. “Just because I have wings doesn’t mean I can fly. Why are you calling me Dragoneater?”

  He laughed. “Because that’s one title you actually earned yourself.” His smiled faded quickly, though, as he glanced back into the temple. “Listen, Jera’s broken up about Elder Tan right now. She won’t be happy with you pushing for a cautious approach.”

  Isavel still couldn’t fathom why Jera felt the need for war, but Dendre had known the old woman a great deal longer. If he said so, he must understand it at least a little. “She’s a priestess, Bulwark. Why is she so keen on getting revenge on the ghosts?”

  Dendre frowned. “I think it’s more complicated than that. This isn’t about the ghosts, really. It’s about you.”

  Isavel blinked. “ Me? What?”

  “I’m not sure either.” The leader of the guard was frowning. “It’s just that she doesn’t talk about the ghosts and revenge much, not outside these meetings, not when you’re not around. She and the priests, they talk about you , and your mandate from the gods, and whether you’re afraid of doing what’s necessary. Ever since you melted Venshi to that wall. After you disappeared yesterday, I’d say she’s not sure she can trust you.”

  That much seemed clear. Hail interjected now, scowling past Dendre at the nearest priest. “As a priestess, why doesn’t she trust the judgement of the gods? They chose Isavel as their Herald, after all.”

  “How should I know what’s going through any priest’s head?” Dendre looked like he had had more than enough of the conversation already, and drew away. “All I’m saying is watch yourself. This isn’t just about ghosts, or whatever the outers are doing in their city that’s got the gods all riled up. There might be games going on you’re not even aware of.”

  Isavel watched him go with a frown on her face, trying to understand what he meant. What had riled up the gods? What was he talking about? She must have missed something in her absence.

  “Is he telling us the priesthood is turning against you?” Hail’s voice was quiet. Isavel’s eyes scanned the grey-cloaked men and women around them, and she led her bodyguard to a quiet corridor before responding.

  “It doesn’t matter. I need to stay on top of this. We need to go for a walk.”

  “Where to?”

  Isavel sighed, and looked to the ceiling. “I need to talk to the gods.”

  Hail’s eyes widened visibly, and it occurred to Isavel that Hail had yet to hear the gods speak. She hoped they weren’t as disappointing at they usually were, but she had to ask what was going on.

  Had the gods spoken to someone else while she was away? The thought filled her with a low buzz of jealousy, a foolish feeling she couldn’t quite shoo away. She marched through the halls and up the stairs until she reached the shrine room, the two guards immediately recognizing her and standing aside.

  She felt like an outsider, even though her decision to leave had quietly been reversed, and the recognition felt strange to her.

  Then she was in the shrine room, Hail at her side, facing that pale grey rectangle again. It lit up, veering to a gentle purple. The door to the shrine was cl
osed behind them, and while Hail knelt down and pressed her forehead against the floor as was proper, Isavel felt no such inclination. “Gods on the ring. Do you hear me?”

  The voice that rippled out from the shrine was multifaceted, choral, familiar. “Our Herald returns.”

  “What’s going on? I was told something being done in Campus is troubling you.”

  The shrine veered orange. “Yes. Ada Liu and the outers have exposed this world to dangers untold and uncounted, dangers from a darkness that has never known the sun. Earth is no longer safe.”

  “Earth?” She frowned. This sounded a great deal more serious than she had expected. “Ada Liu is your Arbiter. Why haven’t you complained to her about this?”

  She noticed Hail glancing up at her, perhaps astonished at the impatient tone Isavel was using, but Isavel was not sure she trusted anything these gods had to say anymore, even as they evaded her questions. “Arbiter Liu’s actions alarm us. They should alarm you as well, Herald. If you believe the ocean to be dark and filled with dangerous creatures beyond your ability to comprehend, consider the infinitely darker and vaster black of space.”

  “What has she done, specifically?”

  “She has lit a beacon. Even we cannot know for certain who has seen it.”

  More obfuscation. Whatever Ada had done… Well, she couldn’t be completely certain it was harmless. The timeless gods themselves had little reason to hold grudges against specific mortals, even Ada. So what were they worrying about? “Can I protect the city? Can I do anything about it?”

  “Only if you truly understand what you are.”

  What she was. It was an odd non-sequitur, but it was also an open question. What did that have to do with anything?

  What was she?

  She was gifted unlike any other, and she could take the dragon’s gift by eating their flesh and mixing their blood with hers. Such a thing was unheard of. Did the gods mean to say she had within her the power to defend Earth against… something from beyond? Against something incomprehensible? She herself was incomprehensible. Perhaps that was an appropriate fit.