by Janean Worth
“I want to look at it as soon as I can,” Kara said.
In front of her, Mathew nodded. “Okay. But for now, let’s just get as far away from the Fidgets as possible.”
Kara looked back at the structure. Hundreds of Fidgets clustered under the portico, staring at them with undisguised hunger, their green eyes gleaming with malice.
The rectangle of sunlight, which had been large when they’d entered the area, had now shrunk to within three feet of the structure. The clear demarcation line between light and shadow crept, even now, ever closer to the portico.
Kara shivered, knowing that the Fidgets must be watching the shadow draw nearer too, as they contemplated feasting upon fresh meat and bones. Kara had preferred it when she had thought that they were just dumb animals. Now, knowing that Fidgets, at least these Fidgets, were intelligent enough for speech and industrious enough to keep this place in repair for hundreds of years, she knew that they were far more formidable than she had ever thought that they were.
“Otto, can you show us a quick way to get off of the Narrow Road? There are sure to be Enforcers on the Road the way we have already come, and the sunlight will not keep the Fidgets inside the structure for very much longer,” Kara asked.
“Of course,” Otto said. “There are many, many ways to depart from the Narrow Road. Finding and travelling the Narrow Road is hard, but leaving it is quite easy.”
Otto turned to the side, clomping toward one of the buildings that pressed in against the edge of the pathway that lined the opposite side of the Narrow Road. The pathway there seemed to be made of concrete, too, but here there was no rebar to be wary of and no care had been taken to preserve this area. Cracked and broken, with brambles sprouting from it every few inches and gnarled vines twisting among their thorns, the pathway was not much of a pathway at all. More of a treacherous conduit leading from the skyscrapers that lined it to the even more dangerous Narrow Road.
Otto strode through these obstacles with ease, smashing a way for Gallant to follow through the debris and detritus as he approached the nearest skyscraper. It was heavily shrouded in vines. The vines completely covered the crumbling face of the building, but Otto seemed to know exactly where he was going. He walked directly up to the skyscraper’s outer wall, and then began to quickly pull away the vines, revealing a set of metal double doors, their hinges weak with centuries of rust. All that held the doors in place was the snarl of vines that Otto was rapidly tearing away.
When he had cleared the door, the metal giant gave a gentle push to the doors, and they fell backward into the building with an echoing crash, sending up plumes of dust into the stagnant air.
Behind them, at the structure, the Fidgets began to jabber in their strange way. Kara dared a glance back, and saw the source of their excitement. Three mounted Enforcers and a set of tracken had just passed through the hole that Otto had cut into curtain of vines far off on the Narrow Road, back the way that they had already come.
For a moment, Kara was relieved that they had not gone that way, which would have put them directly into the path of the Enforcers. It did not seem as if the Enforcers had seen them yet. If her group been on the Narrow Road, returning to GateWide, they would have immediately been spotted, but in the tangle of vines near the skyscraper, they remained hidden from view. Then, she realized that the Enforcers had no idea what lay waiting ahead of them. They, and the animals that they forced to their bidding, would be a feast for the Fidgets.
“We must warn them,” she whispered to Mathew as Otto entered the building.
“What?” Mathew said, twisting to see what she was looking at. “Wait, no! Just a few more steps and we will be inside. They haven’t seen us yet!”
“But they’ll be eaten!” Kara whispered. “Eaten alive, Mathew. And so will their horses and the tracken.”
“So?” Mathew said, astounding her. “They’d kill us in a minute. You know they would.”
“I am not like them, Mathew. And I didn’t think you were either,” Kara said. She couldn’t believe that even if Mathew cared nothing for his fellow humans, the Enforcers, he did not at least care about the slaughter that the Fidgets would visit upon their innocent beasts, the horses and the enslaved tracken.
Mathew looked a bit chagrined, then sighed. “Fine. Let’s get Gallant into the building, and then you can warn them.”
Kara nodded, then dismounted from Gallant’s broad back in one quick motion, ignoring again the twinge in her hip as her feet hit the ground. Mathew followed right after her, and she was once again concerned when he didn’t even wince as he put his full weight upon his injured leg.
“Quickly,” Otto said, now hidden inside the gloom that darkened the inside of the building.
With a soft mewl of distress, the tracken darted swiftly inside the building.
“Otto, can you put the doors back up?” Kara asked as she followed Mathew inside the building, leading the placid Gallant behind her. The horse didn’t balk, even when its hooves clattered noisily over the fallen doors, ringing against the discolored metal as his shoes struck sparks. Seeing this, she was once again reminded that the horse had once belonged to Gabert, one of the Sovereign’s Enforcers. The Sovereign’s stables would have been where the horse had been shod. She knew it was wrong to steal, but, in Gallant’s case, she couldn’t help but be glad that Mathew had taken the animal from Gabert. Such an evil man did not deserve such a magnificent beast.
“Yes, but you must hurry. Look at the position of the sun upon the structure. The Fidgets are almost freed.”
Kara did look, feeling a shiver skitter over her skin that had nothing to do with the dank interior of the building she’d just entered. The line between sun and shadow now looked only inches wide. The Fidgets filling the portico were agitated, eager to begin the chase, eager to feed.
As soon as Gallant had passed over the barrier, Otto moved to heft the doors back into place.
“Wait!” Kara said.
Quickly handing the reins over to Mathew, she made her way to the doorway, cupped her hands and shouted as loud as she was able.
“Beware the Fidgets!”
She could see the lead Enforcer glance her way, and she knew that they had all heard her. The tracken yowled, and immediately began to run towards them.
Kara gasped. They should be running away.
“No, go back!” she shouted. “There are FIDGETS!”
But it was too late. The shadows had reached the front of the structure, joining the shadows on the ground with the shadows beneath the portico. With inhuman shrieks of glee, the Fidgets swarmed away from the structure.
“There is no more time,” Otto said.
Kara stepped back, and the metal giant raised the doors back into the doorway.
“Look away and cover the eyes of the horse,” Otto ordered.
Kara turned away, in the gloom she could barely see that Mathew and the tracken did as well. Mathew quickly pulled Gallant’s head down upon his shoulder, facing away from Otto, and then reached up to cover the horse’s eyes with his hands.
Immediately, there was a sizzling sound, and a bright blue-white glow, the color of lightening, lit the interior of the building. Instantly the stink of hot metal filled the building, reminding Kara of the same smell that had been present when she ventured too near the blacksmith’s shop in GateWide.
Kara curiosity niggled at her, and she struggled not to turn around to see what Otto was doing. But she trusted him, so she kept her eyes averted, and instead gazed at the piles of trash and riches that surrounded them. Large mounds of decaying clothing and footwear leaned against the walls, some of which was stained with dark rust-colored patches, which Kara was certain was old blood. Elsewhere, heaps of objects had been piled, much like in the domed structure, but here she could see that the objects had been sorted into like groups. Piles of knives, swords, watches, and, to Kara’s amazement, various Old Tech devices, squatted next to piles of coins, earrings, loose gemstones, and many other o
bjects that Kara did not recognize and knew must have been from before The Fall.
Otto’s light lasted only seconds, but in that time, Kara saw enough to know that the piles were a Fidget collection of all that had been stolen by them.
As the bright light winked out, Kara’s vision was momentarily lost in the gloom, but she made her way over to the pile that contained the Old Tech anyway, tripping over several cracks in the floor.
Seconds later, light flared to life inside the room once again as Otto activated a small light in his chest that Kara hadn’t even known existed, and Kara crouched by the pile and began to paw through it. Devices of every shape and size were piled there. More than she’d ever thought still existed in the world that remained after The Fall.
She quickly began to gather up some of the Old Tech that appeared to be unbroken, concentrating on the objects that had the same odd, shiny sparkling surface that the squares on Otto’s shoulders possessed. Otto had said that those squares were responsible for him getting energy from the sun, so perhaps these devices could be restored to working order by the sun as well?
She only had time to grab a few of the Old Tech devices before the sound of claws scraping upon the metal of the door interrupted her treasure hunt.
“We must go,” Otto said.
Kara agreed. The Old Tech treasure in front of her would do them no good if she became a feast for a Fidget.
She stood, intending to follow Otto and Mathew, but something leapt at her out of the shadows. A large shape struck her shoulder with such force that she was knocked off of her feet. The Old Tech she’d gathered clattered to the floor as she went flying. She landed on her side on the dirty floor, her injured hip flaring in pain.
The thing leapt on top of her as she tried to roll away, and Kara met the eyes of one of the Enforcer’s tracken as it peeled its lips back and lunged for her throat.
Chapter Eight
Truchen felt the chill of the marble seeping through the cloth of his pants as he knelt on the black marble floor of the throne room, head bowed, as the Sovereign sat and looked down at him.
The black marble was flecked with silver mica, and polished to a high shine so fierce that it was as reflective as a mirror. For Truchen, this reflective surface wasn’t beautiful, as it should have been with the silver specks reflecting the shadowy light from the few torches that burned in their sconces and the black marble casting back an image of all that was to be seen in the room. No, Truchen would have preferred that the floor be dull and ugly so that he could keep his gaze directed on there and not see the Sovereign’s reflection regarding him with discontent.
“Boy, fetch me my supper, and make it quick,” the Sovereign hissed at the ragged Stray who crouched next to his chair.
The boy rose, and began to scurry away, but the Sovereign reached out his Old Tech hand and grasped the boy’s upper arm before the unfortunate Stray could flee the dais.
In the reflection upon the floor, Truchen watched the Sovereign’s expression change to cruel delight. On the marble floor, Truchen could clearly see the Sovereign’s Old Tech hand begin to squeeze the boy’s arm, skeletal metal fingers deeply indenting the flesh on the boy’s scrawny limb.
“And, this time it had better be something that I enjoy eating, and not that slop that was brought to me last time,” the Sovereign hissed through mottled grayish lips. “Or, do you need to be reminded of what happened to the last one who brought me inedible food?”
“No, Sir,” the boy squeaked.
Truchen saw tears begin to flow from the boy’s eyes, and he winced, hoping that the Sovereign would not react to this sign of weakness. He knew that the Sovereign greatly enjoyed making those around him feel weak, yet, perversely, their cruel master also despised the outward signs of the very weakness that he so enjoyed inflicting upon others.
Truchen held his breath, expecting the worst, but to his surprise, the Sovereign released the boy’s arm and let him go.
“Follow,” the Sovereign directed two of the tracken.
The beasts both leapt up from where they’d lain, quiescent next to the throne, and loped after the boy.
When they were gone, the Sovereign focused once more on Truchen, and a dangerous hush fell over the throne room.
The other Strays in the room, who were clustered about in dark corners, no doubt attempting to stay out of the Sovereign’s way, seemed to even cease breathing, as if their utter silence would protect them somehow.
“Truchen, I must, reluctantly, rely upon you once more,” the Sovereign said the words with more than a hint of distaste, as if he’d rather cut off a finger – had he had any spare real ones left – than rely on Truchen for anything. “The group of Enforcers who were sent to retrieve the boy and his Old Tech has failed. They were set upon by a group of Fidgets and I don’t expect them to survive.”
The Sovereign snorted in derision, as if disgusted by the performance of those in his service.
Truchen schooled his features into cool disinterest, trying hard not to show the rage that he felt. The Sovereign had once again sent good men out to do his bidding, and then dismissed their willingness to die in their service to him. He didn’t expect them to survive? And yet he was sending Truchen after the boy’s Old Tech, and not to help the Sovereign’s loyal Enforcers battle the Fidgets, if they still lived?
“You will depart at sundown, and you will not fail me this time,” the Sovereign said, his decree ringing loudly through the stillness in the throne room, sending a shiver of dread down Truchen’s spine.
“No, Sir, I will not fail you,” Truchen murmured, head still downcast. His knees ached with cold where they touched the marble floor, but he dared not move an inch until he was dismissed from the Sovereign’s presence.
He wished that he dared ask why the boy’s Old Tech seemed to be so important. What was it about this device that made the Sovereign need its return so badly? What power did the device possess?
Another shiver of dread rattled his spine. Perhaps, if the thing was so desired by the Sovereign, it would be better to not retrieve it? Perhaps, like Gabert, Truchen would be better off just consigning himself to a relatively quick death out in the wilderness?
If not for his promise to Gabert to look after the man’s wife and children in his absence, then Truchen might have considered the option of a quick death. As it was, he had no real choice in the matter. If he wished for even a chance to keep his promise to Gabert, he must retrieve the device for the Sovereign. Or die trying. Those were his only options.
Truchen heard the ragged Stray return with the Sovereign’s supper. The emaciated child held the Sovereign’s meal before his thin chest on a gleaming silver serving tray and crept slowly to the Sovereign’s throne.
Truchen watched the boy approach the throne, and in the reflection upon the floor, the boy seemed almost to float across the room, a ghost dislodged from a nightmare.
The boy inched up the steps, the two tracken dodging his heels closely, and tentatively offered the tray to the Sovereign.
Truchen could not see what the tray held, but the tantalizing aroma of the food wafted through the room, and the smell of it made his mouth water. The Enforcers did not eat food like the feasts that were served to the Sovereign. No one in GateWide did. Truchen’s meals were always comprised of simple fare: roasted fish, stewed vegetables and a coarse heel of bread every so often if he were lucky. And, more often than not, he went away from the meals in the Enforcers’ dining hall still feeling hungry, since even the Enforcers’ food was rationed in the House. Still, because of their coveted position, the Enforcers ate better than most citizens of GateWide. But the food that was served to the Sovereign was renowned for its sumptuousness and plenty. Rich with rare spices gathered carefully from the wilderness, his fare was always the best of the best, and served in copious amounts so that he would not feel even a hint of hunger.
Truchen hoped that his own stomach would not betray his desire for the Sovereign’s feast by growling as t
he tantalizing scents filled the air.
As the Sovereign deigned to take the tray from the boy’s shaking fingers, Truchen took a moment to seek out the position of the other Strays in the room in the reflection on the marble floor. There were many more in the room than he’d thought, all huddled in corners or trying their best to be invisible in the flickering light from the torches which hung upon the walls. He looked at their hollowed cheeks, the dark, bruise-like shadows under their small eyes, and the sickly pallor of their skin, and felt a spear of remorse and guilt lance through him. They were all starving, he realized. The Sovereign was probably denying them food in the hopes of breaking their spirits further. And he, Truchen, was responsible for some of them being there in the House. On occasion, he was tasked with bringing Strays to the House after their parents died, and he had done this duty far more than once. So, on some level, he was more than a little responsible for the current state of at least some of the Strays who huddled miserably about the throne room.
Guilt struck him with such force that instead of growling, his stomach felt as if it might expel its meager contents upon the Sovereign’s shiny floor. Truchen gritted his teeth, and shut his eyes, blocking out his view of the suffering Strays. And, then he did something that he had never done. He prayed to the Creator, which the Sovereign said did not exist, for a way to end the suffering that was all around him.
Chapter Nine
In the darkness that surrounded them like a shroud, Mathew heard a clatter of sound and a small surprised gasp from Kara. Mathew spun around at the same time that the tracken at his side yowled loudly and leapt away into the gloom.
Mathew fumbled with the Old Tech light on Gallant’s saddle, his fingers slipping upon the leather in his haste. Finally managing to free the device, he engaged the light and directed it toward Kara.
The beam illuminated the scene before him in stark detail, picking out the moving figures upon the floor. One of the Enforcer’s tracken was on top of Kara, its teeth bared in a snarl as it went for her throat. Kara was prone on the ground, defenseless, looking tiny and frail beneath the tracken’s huge body.
