“Just enough to scare them, dearies, to frighten them. Leave them with a taste, leave them thirsty, so they return.”
Chills washed over me as they strode past, careful not to brush skin with any of the others. Behind us, the balcony opened once more, and both the Deathguards strode out. Even the petals on the ground curled as they raised their hands, and the assault below abruptly stopped. Then the curtain of leaves fell across the exit once more, sealing them away.
But not before I saw their hands rise, and an inky blackness rush outwards like dark lances, accompanied by a sound like the shrieking of violin strings.
***
“I still don’t see why we don’t just skewer ‘em,” said Slugger as we returned to the roots, “Lola, couldn’t you just hop on over to the other side with a few friends and make some Lacit shish kabobs?”
“Yes, we could,” Lola answered. “But there are two reasons why that’s an awful idea. First is simple, really—while there’s a good chance we’ll catch them off guard, if we don’t, there’s a portal right to the other side laid bare in front of them. The last thing I’d want to do is let Lacit slip in. Of course, in an actual battle, that is a risk we will have to take.”
Aetia had called for a meeting of not just the officiates, but every member of the tribe, just three hours after ensuring the borders were secure. We congregated under the great tree, the crowd growing by the second, the seats long taken and murmuring, replacing birdsong. Among them, there were many who were painted—green Vibrants huddled near a stretch of flowerbeds, growing roses with particularly long thorns. Yellows interspersed, some of them carrying the rejuvenating power and using it to revitalize members of the crowd, while three Speakers of Tongues huddled around us to feel like they were contributing. Rila stood at the front of a small army of soldiers, their backs straight at attention and butts of spears on the ground. And the Deathguards, now short two, still remained in their positions around the tree. Unspeaking and unmoving.
“Well, if he can make it to the other side, be my guest,” said Darian, looking at his own hands. “It’s not so easy.”
“It’s much easier when the gap is already opened,” replied Lola, and she put a hand on his back. “While difficult, it’s not unthinkable that they could hitch a ride through.”
“Oi, then just take care of them on the other side, I don’t see what the big deal is,” said Slugger, “Seems like we’re all getting worked up about an easily solvable problem. Lure them in to a pickle, catch them unawares like.”
“We don’t want them on the other side,” said Lola, her arms crossed. “And that’s final. But for the other reason, I’ll let my grandmother explain that one.”
Aetia stood before the group and raised her hands for silence, the side conversations vanishing like smothered fires. In front of her, a plant was growing, managed by a nearby vibrant, and it elongated out of the soil as she spoke.
“For many of you,” she started then peered around, her eyes squinting, “For all of you, you have never endured a hostile attack. You have never experienced the intrusion of our distant neighbors, their greed, their desire to destroy. I have, more times than I would like to recount.”
She took a breath and paused before continuing, letting the sentence sink in.
“They come seeking rivers of gold. They come seeking powers beyond their imagination. Once, they came for something so trivial as to enslave us. But every time, we turned them away. And over time, we grew to realize them for what they were—weeds.
“When you remove a weed from a garden, you must pull it out by the roots. Simply snap the stem, and in a week, it will grow back, stronger and more numerous than ever. So too are these invaders. Their leader has stated that more are following him, others that seek to take advantage of our people. For this reason, we must wait until they have committed, until we can grasp them by the roots and pull them out. We must let them grow in number, then we strike them hard, and we set a fear so deep in their hearts that they never dare to return.”
In front of her, the vibrant finished growing and stepped back to allow the crowd to see. And though I’d never seen one, I’d read of them—a Venus fly trap, its spiny mouth open towards the sky, waiting for its next meal.
“Like the fly trap, we must wait until the enemy is fully committed,” continued Aetia as an insect buzzed close then crawled around the mouth of the plant, hesitating before entering, “We must let them overextend, lure them forwards, let them smell the honey within. We cannot afford to attack prematurely, we cannot let them regroup. But then—” she said and leaned in close to the plant, watching as the insect dipped inside its mouth and the leaves snapped shut. “Only then, with surprise and full force on our side, do we win the battle in an instant. Out of nowhere.”
She smiled, and the warriors led a cheer that spread rapidly among the crowd. From the elders to the cooks, the emotion swelled, a mighty stamping of feet and shouts that culminated with the distant roaring of our tigers from where the Worldwalkers cared for them in their stables. Even Darian joined, causing Lucio to cock his head in confusion behind him.
After a full minute, the clapping stopped, the stamping slowed, and the shouting fell away. But instead of dying, the sound grew louder—a rumble that made heads turn upwards, their joy forgotten as confusion and fear crossed their faces. Steadily, the volume grew as the crowd turned silent, and a dark shadow passed over one of the slits in the brambles above.
Arial launched herself skywards, rocketing towards the gap, gasps sounding as she cleared the distance in seconds and broke through the bramble barrier.
“It’s incredible,” one Worldwalker whispered to another next to me. “She just took off! Never have I seen anything like that.”
Chapter 92
When Arial dived back down, her face was white, and she hovered fifteen feet above the crowd with her attention split between us and Aetia.
“Planes!” she shouted, gesturing above. “Loaded with parachuters! There’s dozens of them coming down now, and they’re coming quick. Looks like they’ll miss the bubble, though; they’ve overshot.”
At stares coming back from the tribespeople, all filled with wonder, she paused then spoke again.
“Invaders are coming from the sky and landing over there!” She pointed beyond, where Lacit had been, and recognition dawned in the crowd. But Aetia spoke before there was time for them to react.
“Vibrants, full alert. If anything so much as touches the wall, we need to know. Rila, prepare the warriors for immediate war. Act just as if this were a full on invasion drill. And Deathguard,” she said, turning, her face menacing to where the silent circle stood about the tree. “Be ready but do not leave your post.”
“And what a coincidence it seems to be,” spoke up Waela, stepping forwards out of the crowd. “That just as our gates are threatened for the first time in generations, we happen to have visitors as well? That one of them bears the ill omen of having trespassed the other side, a sure sign of ill luck, and our attention is diverted as he fails the test? And one among them seems to hold all the answers of the enemy from above. But of course, Aetia, I wouldn’t presume to hold all the answers—I don’t have your experience. Not by far, as you have said.”
She made her way to the base of the tree, stepping slightly in front of the frowning Aetia. So close together, their difference in years seemed negligible—both were elder women, perhaps the age difference as slim as daughter and mother. But when both could be grandmothers, it seemed trivial.
“But I don’t need experience to know when we are playing the fool,” she spat, pointing to us. “How do we know that they aren’t tricking us? Perhaps this was their plan all along, perhaps they recognized Lola as a newcomer and tricked her, playing her like a harp, bringing the intruders here. Has age clouded your eyes so far, Aetia, that you can no longer see the truth?”
“How dare you insinuate the loss of my grandmother’s mental capacity and the abject morality of my truste
d friends!” said Lola, standing up, her expression more furious than I had ever seen.
“Trusted friends? Or are they mere acquaintances,” returned Waela, her voice quizzical. “It was not so long ago that you left our tribe, Lola, to venture outside. How long have you known these friends? A year at most?” She paused while Lola hesitated, then reached a conclusion. “Less than a year, then. Surely not long enough to judge character, especially if they are manipulative. Is it true that one of them can create false memories?”
Lola’s mouth opened, but her grandmother cut her off before she could speak.
“Waela, I should remind you that you speak not only to your current leader, but to your future one as well. Surely such insulting words would not be befitting, unless you do not believe leadership will follow that progression and have someone else in mind?”
Waela’s look betrayed no emotion, but Rila pivoted on her heel towards her, and the entire battalion of soldiers following her lead cast Waela into shadow. And when Waela spoke, her voice was careful, level.
“I simply wish for that which is best for our future,” she said, then raised her voice as she turned to speak to the crowd. ”But who are we, if we trust foreigners more than one of our own? We know one is guilty, and we are letting him walk free? No, that is not our way! We should lock them all away until the battle is over, lest they be spies!”
The crowd shifted, eyes darting to where we stood. Though there were no whispers, sound was necessary for the communication that rippled through them via passing glances and tensing muscles. For fear needs no language to be spoken.
“From your own mouth, you said it is a dark omen for one to have trespassed,” countered Aetia, with one eye surveying her people. “But it is the lightest omen I’ve seen in years to have a Flyer among us. Locking her away would be more than eliminating a resource; it would be spitting on the hand of fate.”
“Yet trusting them in our most desperate hour would expose ourselves, would make us weak,” said Waela, then she leered as she looked to Darian. “So instead, I propose this—lock the heretic away. If he is as he says, and can walk between worlds, then a closed door should mean nothing to him. As for the others, let them fight for us to demonstrate their passion. But if they’re lying, and they turn out to be traitors, I will be the first one to show him the knife.”
For a moment, nothing broke the tension except for the smile curling across Aetia’s lips.
“Of course, Waela, a wonderful solution,” she said, her eyes knowing. “But I did not expect it to come from you to suggest our guests, now that they join our warriors, should be among the Painted.”
Chapter 93
“It is tradition that all those who fight are to be painted,” said Lola, instructing us. “Or rather, primed. It’s a lesser coat of paint, a red, one that will be covered over in the future for further achievements. But as a tribe, to lay down your life for others is the greatest sacrifice. And by risking it, you become one of us in honorary name.”
Dusk was falling, and the atmosphere was tense as nothing was heard from beyond the bramble wall. Hours before, Lacit had gone missing, slipping back into the forest. Rila stood guard, flitting in and out of the other side as she surveilled the perimeter, her soldiers ready to raise the alarm at a moment’s notice. But now she joined us at the roots, where Aetia had erected a small table laden with several bowls, and was busy working a mortar and pestle with the aid of two Vibrants. A small line of people gathered before her in an arc, including us and ten others, all waiting as she worked away.
All of us, of course, besides Darian.
At Waela’s word, he’d been carted away, whisked up the tree to the same room we had held before. And now we spoke in whispers without Darian to mask our words as Aetia continued the preparation.
“This is absolutely ridiculous. Waela is trying to bait me!” Lola fumed, now that she had prepared us for the ritual. “She knows at a time like this we can use every hand. She thinks she’ll get me into giving my inheritance just by taking one of my friends!”
“Such a coincidence she took Darian, then,” Arial drawled with a wink at me. Lola blushed, and I hid a smile as she had continued.
“That’s not the point. What is the point is she’s acting against my grandmother, and soon it’s going to be mine or my sister’s problem!”
“Fifty-fifty chance ain’t bad,” chipped in Slugger. “And the way I see it, he’s safer there than the battlefield. Lookee, when we win the battle, we’ll be proven right and we can go on our merry way. And if we lose the battle, well, Darian will be around to tell the tale. Maybe he’s the lucky one.”
“Yeah, think there’s room for two?” Lucio pressed. “I’d do a swap. Great vantage point for filming up there too!”
“You wouldn’t dare film here,” Lola said, and Lucio put up his hands.
“Hey hey, it was just a suggestion!” he said, though I remembered the camera on the table during the feast. Had it actually been turned off? I wondered and was instantly grateful that Lucio couldn’t erase memories, just add them.
“And what would happen if we could break him out?” I asked, considering our options. “We definitely can.”
“You’d aggravate tribal tensions enough to prove Waela right that you’re a menace, for one,” Lola answered. “And two, our tribe would be split right before an attack. We’d be fighting amongst ourselves.”
“Which would open the door for Lacit,” I concluded, crossing my arms.
“Precisely,” said Lola with a frown. “There’s not much of a choice we have except to leave him there.”
“I made sure Darian had a full dose of flying before he left,” added Arial. “It won’t help if the door is locked, but if he finds a way to escape, it just might.”
“That’s brilliant!” I said, and she raised her eyebrows.
“I do come up with a good idea every once in a while, you know,” she sniffed. But before I could respond, Aetia set down her mortar and pestle with a clink and turned to face those waiting. She gestured to Lola and Rila, who walked to stand by her side, arranging the bowls in front of her. The line came to attention, and it felt as if the forest itself was waiting.
“There is no greater honor among the Worldwalkers than to be Painted,” announced Aetia, wiping her stained fingers with cloth. “And today, you receive this as defenders of our tribe. Know that, as the Painted, you may walk among us free of harm, you shall never fear the deep jungle, and that you shall forever be remembered as our protectors.”
Stepping forwards, she took the first of the bowls from the table, offering it to Lola and Rila as she spoke a name.
“Dinose, for six years, you have trained among the warriors. You have climbed the highest peaks and walked the lowest valleys, you have swam piranha-infested waters and patrolled hundreds of miles around our perimeter. Take today the blue paint of warrior, and wear it well. Rila, leader of the soldiers, anoints you.”
A boy in his late teens stepped forwards, then took a knee before Rila, pulling his hair back from his forehead as she dipped her fingers in a bowl. Symmetrically, she dragged her nails across his cheek bones, then across his shoulders, leaving streaks to mingle with his proud tears.
“Lista,” called Aetia next. “For the pursuits of knowledge, for acquiring intelligence beyond your years, come forth. For you have discovered new medications to treat infections from old books and have cured over fifteen soldiers, many of whom were on the brink of death. For your studies, Lola, leader of the learned, anoints you with orange.”
Had Lola another sister, Lista could have qualified, as she looked a near identical version. She accepted the paint with her chin high in the air, Lola choosing to mark across her forehead to her earlobes.
Several others Aetia called forwards, each welcomed for separate disciplines, until she arrived at Lucio, the first of our group.
“To each of you, I award the paint of blood,” Aetia said, pulling a dark red bowl from behind her and dippi
ng her own fingers within. “For you have travelled far to give us aid, and escaped many dangers to warn of the enemy. And for each, there too is something special.
“For you, Lucio, know that cleverness will take you far, so long as it is tempered by wisdom.”
She dabbed red over his eyelids, smearing it upwards to his brow in two vertical lines.
“For you, Slugger, there is no greater truth than speaking from the heart. Some may see it as brash, but it bears the strength of pure honesty.”
Taking the paint, she marked the corners of his mouth, pulling it sideways to his ears.
“For SC, know the importance of balance. For if a boat tilts too far one way, it becomes capsized. Remember your friends, for they will steady you.”
My mark came along the jaw, with focus on the far sides, her wet fingers pressing in to leave darker spots there.
“And you, Arial,” said Aetia, turning to fetch another bowl from the countertop, “among powers, it is Flyers who are most revered among us. Few remember, as few have seen them. But who else can reach the top of our great tree in a single bound? No one can match the scouting abilities, the foraging, or the discovery of your power. And for that, I mark you violet—the color of those most precious among us, the esteemed, most valuable for their skills.”
Arial stood still as Aetia moved towards her, her eyes brimming with tears.
“And remember this, young one,” spoke Aetia as she marked her face and arms. “That you are valuable just as you are. Never should you seek to change what you are.”
Arial trembled and looked about to speak, but Aetia put a finger across her lips.
“They say being a transient lets you see through the thoughts of others, “ Aetia said with a smile. “But that’s just hearsay. I’ve been on this earth long enough to know, Arial.”
Chapter 94
“Here you are. And to think, I was afraid you were all cowards about to flee before the action,” said Rila, singling me out as we disbanded and headed back to the wall.
Negative Film (Star Child: Places of Power Book 2) Page 30
