A horn.
Entering the jungle again was like leaving air-conditioning for a sauna, and we dropped several feet to the floor, Zeke still shaking and moaning, though his eyes were now focused. Arial already had the tigers prepared, but now we were short one and Darian’s tiger’s wing was damaged, meaning that we’d only be able to use them for slow and short flights. And Slugger held a long trunk in one hand like a bat, prepared to strike anything that was not our own but emerged from the other side.
One minute passed. Then two. Then three.
“Oi, so what do we do here if they don’t come back?” Slugger said, wiggling the bat above his shoulder. “We can’t exactly go in and retrieve them, can we?”
“We need to give them at least a few more minutes,” I answered. “Besides, where are we going to go?”
“So then we’ll be sitting ducks? At least charge up, SC. Don’t want to enter this battle with empty hands,” he answered.
“No reason it’ll be a battle,” Arial said. “Maybe the person we saw was friendly. We don’t have to make everything a battle; that’s how we got into this!”
“How we got into this?” I asked, turning to her. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that maybe if we flew away instead of engaging, we never would have gone to the other side, and would have gotten away before Lacit recovered!”
“Are you trying to say this is my fault, then?” I fumed, my mouth slightly open. “I wasn’t the one who started launching tree trunk missiles at us!”
“No, but you were the one who we had to save! After you jumped in to fight someone when you were clearly outmatched.”
“Because they tried to kill us!” I shouted, and she flinched back, as I immediately felt regret crawling under my skin. “Arial, I’m sorry, but this has to end. I don’t know how, and I don’t know if it’s right, but he tried to kill you. To kill Lucio. I can’t let that happen either.”
“Hey, uh, guys,” said Lucio, snapping us out of the argument. “Great points on both sides, really. But maybe we should wait for some privacy?”
“Privacy? Hah, we haven’t had that in months, when—” I started, but then the words caught in my mouth as I looked around the group. Darian and Lola had just arrived, dropping into the center of us. But around us there was a circle of spears and painted masks, closing in to prevent any escape, the last rays of sunlight reflecting off the chiseled stone points.
“Seems we have an audience,” Lucio said with nervous laughter. “They just popped through space as if they were always there around us. Hah, and you thought I was crazy! I told you so!”
Chapter 79
“Power down,” commanded Lola, looking to Slugger, who had already started a windup. “Don’t be fooled by the spears; they’re nearly all Specials. I’ve got this under control, for now.”
She spoke to the spear wielders in a language with long swishing words that sounded like little more than the rustling of leaves, in tones that raised and dropped like a summer breeze. In answer, one of them stepped forwards, their mask a construction of blue painted wood and feathers that extended high above, the azure accents carrying through to hair that fell well past the shoulders. Not an ounce of fat covered the sinewy arms that extended beneath a swooping shirt of dark animal skin, and more blue streaks streaked across the arms like their own plumage. When she spoke, her lips were visible just through the gap in the mask, her eyes obscured by polished sapphire-like stones, her voice matching Lola’s in language.
For a full minute, they conversed, the voices reaching a crescendo when the masked figure gestured at the tigers, then at Zeke, whose eyes were still far too wide, and released intermittent shrill cries. But Lola brushed them off, waving her hands in a way that declared them insignificant, and the crowd around us bristled, their leader hesitating. Then the leader beat the butt of her spear on the ground, and the others followed suit in a small thunderclap before herding us forwards through the trees.
“What’s going on?” I asked Lola as we moved, four of the armed people splitting off to scout ahead and two more dropping backwards to cover our flank. Lucio and Zeke were allowed to be mounted after Lola gestured at their heads, and the rest of our supplies were loaded onto one tiger that was separated from the rest of the group, but the rest of us broke into a quick jog.
“We have our own professional escort,” she said. “And we’re wanted for questioning.”
“Back at your home? Not sure how I’ll be able to answer anything in that language.”
“SC, there’s enough language diversity in this region to guarantee a few speakers of tongues are born every year, language will not be a problem. And yes, back at home. We’re only fifty miles out.”
“Fifty miles!” I exclaimed, as we started to trot. “They expect us to jog fifty miles?”
“No, they expect you to sprint fifty miles,” she answered, a small smile on her face. “Ready for some anaerobic respiration?”
“Slugger is the fastest among us and he’s already huffing,” I managed to say as we sped up, keeping my breathing in check. “There’s no way.”
“Just wait. There are powers here not so common in the city.” But anxiety crossed her face, and she looked towards Darian. “But I’m not so concerned with getting there. I’m more concerned about after we get there.”
“They’re— they’re not going to try to kill all of us, are they?”
“All of us? No. They only saw Darian and me on the other side. Spread the word to the others that under no circumstances are they to admit they were on the other side. But Darian and I, we’re already in jeopardy.”
“Don’t you have some pull with them? Can’t you do a, I don’t know, presidential pardon or something?”
“It doesn’t work like that. We’re all equal inside the tribe. But you’re not inside the tribe,” she started as we picked up pace again and talking became more difficult. Ahead, the leader released a whooping call that sounded more owl than human, and Lola translated.
“Line up! And prepare to sprint!”
“These legs were made for bases, not marathons,” gasped Slugger, pulling up behind me. “Lola, they’re not going to use the pointy bits to make us go faster, are they?”
“It’ll be more of a positive reinforcement,” she answered as the leader barked a command. “Now, go! Don’t hold back, keep up!”
The members ahead pulled forwards, and I willed my feet forwards, lengthening my stride and fighting to control my breathing. We whipped around a corner, then the line straightened again, just as my calves and lungs started to burn. I felt a cramp forming along my side, accompanied by dizziness from having spent so much of my power. Fifty miles. Lola had to be insane or we were traveling to a hidden airfield.
The leader barked, her voice indistinguishable from a snapping twig amplified a dozen times, and I heard a flurry of activity behind me. I chanced a look backwards to see Darian barely keeping up, with Slugger pressing close behind, then a masked person rocketing up alongside the line, their fingers brushing across each of the runner’s sides. Slugger whooped when they passed, throwing his chest back as he accelerated with a jolt, nearly running over Darian. Then the fingers reached my side, and I bucked as if an electrical current passed through me, adrenaline leaping into my bloodstream and energy crackling as the pain receded.
I spurted forwards, reaching top speed nearly immediately as the leader barked again and another runner shot forwards with fingers brushing against us, laughter escaping my throat as my nerve endings crackled, my vision sharpened, and all my desires other than running started to fade. When the third runner reached me, I was sprinting faster than I ever had in my life, and by the time the fourth arrived, my feet had become a blur, moving so fast that they caught me rather than propelled me forwards. By now, the first runner had arrived back at the end of the line, and the process repeated again, spurring us faster and faster, the trees flashing by at highway speeds.
With each touch, I broke
a new barrier, I reached a new velocity, I pushed my body far beyond where it had ever been before. I was the running deer, the antelope, the falcon. Wild, free from thought, as captive as the rushing wind.
Chapter 80
In just over an hour, the runners decreased their frequency, tamping us down to human speeds. And in fifteen minutes, we slowed to a stop, our breathing heavy but feeling as if we had only started to warm up, more refreshed than when we had started. Ahead, a wall extended of brambles and vines woven between trees that towered thirty feet into the air then curved in on itself and out of sight.
A head poked out of the brambles high above, this one with no mask and yellow paint that meshed with her darker skin. The lead warrior gestured, shouting upwards and the girl unfurled a rope, rappelling down the side of the brambles, her feet catching the edges of tree branches interspersed to be nearly invisible among the mess. And before she arrived, the leader turned to Lola, speaking in the same swishing language.
“Whisska neossh fliskiss annndd prooove youu are who you say you are, we both know that appearances are deceiving.”
I blinked, looking towards the girl with the yellow paint, the air shimmering slightly around her with each syllable from the leader.
“Fine,” said Lola, annoyed and throwing her hair back. “But I’m just doing this for formalities. You can infer the answer sometimes, you know.”
When I listened close, her voice still retained the same swishing sounds as before, but now intelligible words poked through the syllables, semantics on a background of the incomprehensible. Speakers of Tongues, Lola had said— but this was the first I had ever seen, or rather, heard. The girl waved, and as her hand hit its peak, I heard a soft hello, as if it were spoken by her palm, and a don’t mind me when she looked to the ground as Lola continued.
But then Lola blinked out of sight, and the line of spears bristled, waiting as the leader raised her chin.
“Smart move,” said Lucio. “Just leave us to the forest barbarians, ditch out while she can. Probably going to be eaten alive by supper. Just look how skinny they are. Probably eating the bark off trees just to stay alive. Bet we taste way better than bark.”
The leader scowled, looking at Lucio, as Arial elbowed him in the ribs.
“They can understand you now,” she hissed as he turned bright red. “You didn’t think they were speaking English just for our benefit, did you?”
“Look, I didn’t realize the subtitles flashed on,” he said, then he looked at the leader. “You know what subtitles are? That one’s probably lost in translation.”
“Flashy letters,” the leader said after a cursory glance at the painted girl. “Flashy language letters.”
“Hey, that’s not bad,” he answered.
“Give this one a raise,” added Slugger, and the leader stared back at him, the mask blank.
“Raise?” she asked, but the painted girl shook her head, the words no idea sounding.
“Oi, so you know what subtitles are but not a raise? You know, money? Cash, green stuff, makes the world go round, exchanged for goods and or services?”
Their expressions remained unchanged, and he rolled his eyes.
“Subtitles,” he muttered, and shook his head.
Disbelief sounded, and he grunted.
Seconds later, Lola returned, holding something small in her palm, displaying an acorn to the group before digging a small hole inside the earth with her thumb. Then she planted it in the earth, speaking.
“From the heart of the village, to my heart, to yours. May the soil for trust be fertile, and may friendship grow tall between us.”
The leader walked forwards, and another of the guards walked between them, holding their hands above the acorn. It trembled, then cracked open, a sprout rising from the center, growing thicker by the second until its stem developed brown patches of bark, then widened. Branches shot off from the main, and from the branches, leaves rippled forwards, popping like tiny scales across the surface, flashing green then red then yellow as they fell in mock autumn, and new ones replaced them. And on the branches the size of toothpicks, tiny berries grew, that then showered to the ground, and the leader picked them up, crushing them in her hand and smearing the orange colored juice on Lola’s face.
“And may it live beyond our years,” she said, backing away from the miniature tree, as the remaining guards lowered a knee to the ground and faced Lola.
“Forgive us for the ritual,” said Lola to us as the leader reached a hand upwards to her face. “It’s protocol. My sister is one to do things by the books.”
“Your sister,” started Darian, then he coughed as the leader’s mask fell to the ground and the two girls embraced, their similarities suddenly apparent when their bodies were joined. The same hair tone, height, and body type aside from her sister’s lean muscle. And when they stood far enough apart to see them both, their faces were identical, differentiated only by strokes of orange and blue colored paint.
Part 3
Chapter 81
“You didn’t say you were a twin,” said Darian as we were paraded forwards towards the bramble wall, then cursed as a guard thwacked him across the shins with the shaft of his spear. Respect, quiet, said the crack as he cursed, and he glared at the Speaker of Tongues before Lola responded.
“I did say I had secrets, didn’t I? And Darian, please, don’t talk right now. We’re going to need to get this sorted out, but you’re a criminal here for going on the other side.” She looked at him, her eyes pleading, and biting her lip. “It’s all going to be okay, all right? Just don’t panic, trust me. I’m probably in just as much trouble as you are.”
I swallowed, goosebumps running up my arms despite the heat, looking to Darian than back to Lola. Usually, she would back up that statement with a fact or a statistic, some measurable quantity to put him at ease. But instead, she had asked for trust and calm emotions.
Which meant things were worse than I thought.
Two guards separated ahead of the group, stationing themselves to the left and right, followed by a third smaller guard that held the middle. With their hands pushing forwards, the wall slithered aside as vines and brambles parted in the form of a dark arch, shadows obscuring its exit. We entered, the light cut off behind us as the plants returned to their original position, traversing in a bubble of blackness as the vegetation ahead still parted for our passage.
Things rustled in the space around us, creatures that inhabited the insides of the wall, only their staring eyes visible in the dimness. Growls accompanied the rustles, growls too deep for what should fit in the tight nooks and crannies between stems. The tigers’ noses flared, and I heard their sharp breathing as they tasted the air, and one released a roar that made the entire group jump before being comforted by Lucio.
The darkness continued for a full ten seconds, the hair on my neck standing upwards as I felt my way forwards, the guards prodding us whenever we hesitated. Then light broke through the end of the tunnel, and we left the scents of musk and rotting fruit behind as we emerged, blinking, the fresh air like a breath above water. I heard Arial gasp as we entered what Lucio would dub “The Bubble” and Slugger “The Dugout.”
Above us, the wall refused to end, stretching overhead in a massive living dome. Slits ran the length of construction, long gashes in forestation that drove shafts of sunlight deep into the village below, moving like waves to distribute whirling patterns of gold. At the center, a massive tree extended upwards like a column holding the entire construction together, the trunk disappearing above the brambles before branches had time to split away.
Long beds of gardens ran the perimeter, with dozens of workers tending to them like ants, pulling ropes that dumped water from bucket shaped leaves in the dome like rain upon the crops. And inside the verdant circle the village began, the buildings consisting of trees twisted together to form orblike rooms high above the ground. Roped pathways traversed the branches, and spiraled staircase wound upwards around the
trunks, though the occasional lift moved up and down with people or supplies. Large wooden platforms the size of football fields interconnected different trees, and I squinted to see that they were parks, supporting tables and gardens on levels stretching from just a few feet to a hundred feet up. And above that, a dozen variety of birds circled, the plumage on their tails alone longer than my body, dancing in and out of the light.
Messengers ran ahead of us, and I heard horns sounding, calling the workers in from the fields. Inside the city, the lifts worked at full capacity, and activity flurried as a procession moved forwards. Petals rained down from above, the spots of light widening as the irises opened, while a cool wind swept a carpet of red leaves in a path for us to follow, uniting us and the welcoming party with a long strand of crimson.
An old woman led the party, wisps of grey hair barely clinging to her, her arms so fragile they looked like they might shatter under the slightest impact. She wore a white robe, colored gold by a shaft of light that followed her like a spotlight as she moved. But it wasn’t her that caught my attention— rather, it was the mount she rode, that served to emphasize her diminutive size.
Its tusks were the size of small cars, sweeping from side to side as it walked, likely a precaution to ensure no illusory powers occupied its path. With each step, the earth trembled, though it walked with grace, and its trunk reached up be stroked by the hand of its rider.
“An elephant with fur; looks like your Blenders have been hard at work,” said Lucio. “That thing’s enormous.”
“No Blenders,” said Lola. “That’s a Mastodon.”
Negative Film (Star Child: Places of Power Book 2) Page 26
