Uprising

by J. Thorn

  Saul laughed, and I wanted to turn away in that instant, certain I had shown him some deep, subconscious vulnerability. It’s weird how some people have the ability to stir unexpected reactions inside of you.

  “Then, you are welcome here. With our gratitude.” He tapped his cane against the floor and whirled around quickly to walk to the table with a steady gait.

  We sat around the table, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dim room. I noticed that chipped tea cups and slightly moldy biscuits had been set out in the middle of the round table. I counted the cups and saucers as I sat down—exactly five of each, with tea poured and ready as if he had been expecting us.

  Saul looked at Kora and began talking.

  “The village. Things are becoming dire. Since you’ve been gone, the crops have failed and most of our fresh water has been contaminated.” He reached for a cup. Then, he added as an afterthought, “Help yourselves to tea and biscuits.”

  I nodded, feeling his eyes upon me as I reached for tea, not wanting to refuse his hospitality. When I peered into the cup, it took all I had not to grimace. The brew looked like green sludge.

  I was grateful when Linn began talking and Saul turned his sharp chin toward her.

  “More than that, the guards were here yesterday looking for three escaped prisoners. Guards and slavers, lots of them. Today, you’re here with two others. They’re looking for you, aren’t they?”

  Kora nodded. “Me, Rayna, and Wyllow. She showed us the way out.”

  Saul and Linn looked at each other. They had known of Wyllow. And her clan.

  Saul’s thick brows creased as he abruptly set down the cup and leaned back in his chair, his whiskers twitching. “Have you gone completely mad? Is that what happens in prison?”

  Kora tutted and shook her head. “Well, I’m not happy about it, either. But Wyllow did help me escape. Sort of.”

  “She’s an ally.” I looked at Baylock, but he kept his head down.

  “And what do you know of the Solaris clan?” Saul’s words bit into my confidence. “You’re not from here.”

  “Right.” Kora winked at me. “That’s why we’re here.”

  The old man leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Speak.”

  “Rayna comes from a place near the Seattle ruins. She says they have land, resources, tools. We could live there. If…”

  “If what?”

  I slid forward on my chair and answered before Kora could.

  “If your people join the uprising.”

  Saul laughed, his chest rocking and tears coming to his eyes. “Does this look like a warrior clan to you, girl?”

  Oh, how I hated being called girl.

  “We don’t need warriors. We need determination. Maybe some faith.”

  The laughter came in waves, Saul slapping his meaty palms on the top of the table hard enough to knock over one of the tea cups. I ignored him, the words coming faster as I felt my eyes welling up.

  “I live in a village at the bottom of Queen Anne Hill. But Corvus, the Crow leader, he destroyed it. His people live at the top of the hill in a place called the Nest. They have food, shelter, clothing. Enough of it to last us generations.”

  Kora put her hand on mine as Saul spoke.

  “So, you propose we simply walk in, wage war on this Corvus, and kill his people? Because he destroyed your village? This is not our fight.”

  He grabbed the chipped handle of his tea cup and took a sip, and all the while his eyes never left mine. “This tea ain’t worth the cup it’s poured in.”

  I wasn’t fooled by his feigned disinterest. “If we fight together, we can win. I’m sure of it. I know how many warriors Corvus has.”

  “Which is precisely all of them, as we have none here.”

  I squared my jaw, my eyes flashing. “The Nest,” I said. “It is the only way to save your people.”

  “How old are you? How many battles have you waged?”

  I shrank into my chair, my fingers twisting on the ancient porcelain before me. My stomach turned, and it wasn’t from the tea. Saul was so condescending that he’d ignored almost everything I had said, choosing instead to say or ask things from a dialogue occurring inside of his own swollen head.

  “You’ve escaped. You’ve brought Kora home. We are grateful.”

  I looked up, my head cocked at the change in Saul’s tone.

  “But you are not a leader, my lady. You have no army. We have no army. My people would be lucky to die before they ever reached the Great Sea.”

  As I closed my eyes and sighed, he continued.

  “And so, I think I’m a fool for even considering bringing this idea to the elders.”

  My mouth fell open before I could feel a wide grin blossoming on my face.

  Saul stood and gave Linn a curt nod. She responded by rising from the table, indicating the end of the discussion. As Kora passed, she shrugged, as unsure as I was about how the elders would respond to Saul.

  38

  The moment I entered Kora’s home, I was reminded of Asher’s mother. Ember had decorated her hut with chipped frames, worn canvas, and shabby curtains. The faded walls of Kora’s home had been adorned with broken frames of all sizes, plastered together with dried mud and holding drawings and portraits made from charcoal. I was immediately drawn to them.

  Linn had been talking to Baylock and Kora. She was probably talking to me, too, but her words faded as I studied a portrait of a little girl. The waters of a lake lay frozen behind her as she sat on the shore. Plump fingers grasped a cup poised in her hand, her fleshy lips pouted, and strands of hair wisped along her jawline. But it was the depth of her eyes that struck me the most. The artist had captured the girl’s innocence with impeccable skill, her form shaded in black layers upon rust-colored paper. This girl was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  Enchanted.

  That’s how that girl in the portrait made me feel. The moment was brief, but like any moment that roused the deepest parts of our being, the feeling would forever remain with me. Sometimes, the simplest moments could be the most memorable.

  I hadn’t heard Kora’s boots on the floor when she stopped behind me.

  “That’s me.”

  “It’s lovely.” I turned around to face her. “So pure.”

  “My mamma loved to draw. She drew all of these.” Kora gestured at the walls, her lips solemn and her eyes glazed. “We keep them up to remember her.”

  “It’s a beautiful way to honor your mother.”

  Kora tried to smile, but I could tell she couldn’t quite do it as her eyes swept over the frames and emotion welled beneath them. She turned away from me, her body trembling slightly as she ambled through the home that she hadn’t seen for such a long time. I didn’t know how Kora had lost her parents, but I knew well enough that the world claimed lives without prejudice, and without a backward glance.

  We nibbled on day-old bread smothered in lard and drank watered-down cranberry juice as Linn explained to Kora all the things that had befallen their village during her absence. I had wondered why nobody had moved in with Linn if they believed Kora to be dead, but it seemed like a sensitive topic and too early to bring it up.

  “As hard as it is to admit, I don’t see a future here.” Kora turned to Linn. “I think we should go with Rayna.”

  “I would love to leave our village, but wanderlust isn’t enough to justify the risk. Our people are weak. And that’s assuming Saul and the elders even decide we can go.”

  I sat beside Baylock, listening to their conversation and relishing the food hitting my empty stomach. All the while realizing that Linn’s words only affirmed what I knew to be true in my heart. The people of Kora’s village looked like Hydrans—tired, defeated, and hopeless.

  Kora’s village would have a choice. They could stay here and die peacefully or take a chance and live the most out of whatever time they had left. And maybe they’d have a chance to do that in the Nest.
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br />   I was about to say just that when an ear-piercing scream came from the village. Everybody stopped talking and, for a moment, we froze. Then we all moved at once, leaping to our feet and bolting for the door.

  39

  The afternoon sun blinded me as Baylock and I followed Kora and Linn outside. I shielded my eyes as I scanned both sides of the narrow alley, my mind racing to process everything hitting at once.

  Screaming.

  Running.

  A horn blowing in the near distance.

  Several people ran to a horse who had entered the village, its rider bloodied and slumped over the saddle. A young woman—a girl, from what I could see. Even from fifty yards away, I could see the blood on her forehead and on her chest, soaking through a tattered, cotton shirt. The people helped her down to where she collapsed in the dirt.

  Kora shrieked, running toward the girl and yelling her name while Linn, Baylock, and I raced after her.

  “Emmy! Emmy!”

  Kora shoved people aside and fell to her knees as she cradled the girl’s head in her arms. Baylock and I reached them as Kora began wiping blood from the girl’s face with her hands. I looked at Baylock and he shook his head. We both knew that whoever had attacked this girl had brought her to death’s door and she was about to enter.

  “Kora?”

  Kora nodded, tears spinning a web of light lines over her face.

  “Yes. I’m alive and I made it home. What happened? Who did this to you?”

  Emmy closed her eyes and coughed, a fresh stream of thick, dark blood oozing from the corner of her mouth. There was so much that I couldn’t tell where she’d been injured, although I was sure everyone there knew it wouldn’t matter—blood darkened her clothes, pooling in the dirt beneath her.

  “They were… right.”

  The girl had whispered the words between racking coughs.

  Kora leaned in closer, her ear close to Emmy’s mouth. “Who, honey? Who was right?”

  She blinked slowly, her eyes rolling up into her head before coming back into focus. When she spoke again, her words cracked and broke before us. I squatted next to her and Kora to hear what Emmy was saying.

  “Prison guards. Slavers. Lots of them coming.” She paused, wincing as her breath quickened. Her eyes fixed on Kora. “Looking for you. I told them you were dead, but…” More coughing. “They’re coming for you. For us. They think we’re hiding you. They’ll destroy our village.”

  Kora’s face turned to ash. She looked at me first, and then her eyes darted from face to face. The small crowd had grown, but become silent.

  The girl drifted in and out of consciousness, color fast draining from her face while blood continued to run from the corner of her mouth. Suddenly, her eyes shot open and a smile grew on her face.

  “I can feel it.”

  “Feel what?” Kora pulled Emmy close, but I had felt something, too—Emmy’s departing soul.

  The girl’s lips parted, and her chest raised once more before her mouth slackened and her eyes glassed over. Emmy’s arms fell into the dirt by her side.

  40

  It seemed as if the entire village had congregated along the narrow street where Emmy had died. They crammed between the shacks and huts. They climbed rickety fences and filled every broken window frame as they watched everything. Yet, despite their curiosity, a hushed lull hung over the people as the harsh reality of the unfolding events became apparent and they began mourning the death of one of their own.

  I could feel sweat soaking my clothes, my fingers curling into my palms as I watched Kora kneeling over Emmy, my friend’s head hung low while she silently wept. Kora lifted her head after another minute passed, wiping the tears from her eyes and wiping blood from Emmy’s face. Kora looked at me, her eyes igniting and the heat burning the tears from her face. She lay Emmy’s head on the ground, stood up, and looked at her fellow villagers, but none would return her gaze.

  Kora turned to face me.

  “Emmy was one of my oldest friends. The sweetest girl you’d ever meet.”

  I waited, but that was all Kora managed to say before she nodded, a swift, cutting movement that was shadowed and without words. She put her hand on my shoulder and swallowed a sob before whispering three words.

  “Make. Them. Pay.”

  The crowd parted as Saul and the village elders approached the scene, his long strides quickened by his polished walking cane. His eyes went from Emmy’s bloody body to Kora, to me, and then to the people gawking from every corner of the village.

  When Saul stopped, the elders walked past him and stood before Kora. One of them, an elderly man in chestnut robes with strings of black beads hanging from his neck, barked out an order. “Get this woman out of the street and to the infirmary!”

  “She’s dead,” came a response from the crowd, eliciting a collective gasp from those who hadn’t yet realized it.

  “That doesn’t mean she isn’t worthy of our respect.”

  Two men brushed past Kora and bent down, trying to lift Emmy while preserving her dignity. A third man led her horse away and the two men carrying Emmy followed.

  The elders began chattering amongst themselves, but Saul’s dark eyes never left mine.

  “You brought this to our peaceful village.”

  “Get rid of the foreigners!”

  “Kick ’em out before we’re all slaughtered!”

  The shouting escalated as people moved in, emboldened by Saul’s accusation and hungry for vengeance. Baylock’s arm brushed against mine as he stepped closer to me. Without looking down, I interlaced my fingers within his.

  Saul turned to face his people, thumping his cane into the dirt.

  “Silence!” Saul flicked his thin wrist at me. “What say you?”

  “The guards and slavers. They lied to Emmy. They claimed we were here before we were. They’re using us as justification to raid your village.”

  “She’s the liar!”

  “This is because she cavorted with the witch. We’re cursed.”

  Saul spun, and this time he pointed his cane in the general direction of the men who had spoken. “I said silence. I will not ask again.”

  Saul’s gaze swept the crowd and locked on me.

  “My people are too weak to fight. We are not warriors.”

  “I’ll give myself up to save the village.” Kora stepped between Saul and me. “I did team up with Wyllow, and I will accept responsibility for my actions. If I brought the wrath of the slavers, I will appease them.”

  I scanned the crowd. Several women leaned over, whispering into the ears of their men with cupped hands.

  “It will be the only way. You must stop them from coming here and destroying what little we have left.” Saul put an arm around Kora. “No more must die.”

  “It won’t matter,” I said.

  Saul turned to me and I could see the long faces of Kora and Baylock, their mouths open but silent. I continued before anyone could stop me.

  “We’ve seen what these men will do. Ask Kora or Baylock. There was a riot in the prison. I’m certain they lost many slaves, not just the few who happened to escape. They don’t need a reason to raid your village, and one woman will not appease their greed.” I put my hands on my hips, raised my head, and spoke directly to Saul. “They are coming, and with them will be a wicked reckoning.”

  The elders chattered, but Saul held up his hand to silence them. “She is right.”

  I dropped my hands and looked around. It was my turn to be without words. Just when I thought I had the wide, old man figured out…

  “We’ve heard about the raids getting closer. We knew that someday they’d come for our village, that our time here was short. Although we would not have chosen to lose dear Emmy and defend our land on this day, it is nevertheless what we face.”

  As I scanned the faces of the elders and then the crowd, I could see the inevitable sinking in. Some nodded while others wept, but nobody hid behind hurled insults or accusations. I nodded
at Saul and stepped forward.

  “Many of you will die.”

  Groans.

  “Whether you cower in fear or courageously fight, some of you will fall. But if we rise up as one and make a stand, I think we can turn the slavers back. And once we do, I have a promise of a new life in a not-so-distant land. But make no mistake, we will pay for our freedom in blood.”

  Saul said nothing. Instead, he turned to face me. And then he bowed.

  41

  “You really think that’ll work?”

  The elders stood shoulder-to-shoulder behind Saul while he stared at me from across the table. This time, he hadn’t bothered with the afternoon tea ritual or the condescending questions. I could feel the panic in his question.

  “No. But what else can we do?”

  Saul had been right. There was no way we’d be able hit the slavers head-on. They’d almost certainly come with more men and weapons. The only way to save the village was to use a shell game like the thieves and con artists did out on the road. Lead the slavers in one direction while we took the village in another.

  I asked another question. “The caves near the lake. You’re sure they’re accessible, that we can fit dozens of people inside?”

  Saul shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about the caves for years until you mentioned the lake. That water has been tainted for so long that nobody goes near it anymore.”

  Good. If the villagers don’t know much about the caves near the lake, they can’t be tortured into giving up the location.

  “The smell is atrocious.”

  The comment had come from one of the elders, a man whose back bent forward like the curvature of my bow. I wasn’t sure he’d even make it out of the village gates alive.

  “Even better. The slavers won’t think to go near the lake, and therefore they won’t find the caves. Or us. I’m a Crawler. Water is life in my world.”

  Saul’s face twisted at the mention of my old life, and I had surprised myself. Was I still a Crawler? This wasn’t the time or place to get into that with Saul, so I brushed it off and let him answer.