by Everly Frost
“Mortality poison? Of course. This on the other hand…” She held up her free palm. In it was a small red leaf like the crimson tide the President had shown me. “This will knock you out. Which do you choose?”
He tilted his head, exposing his neck. “That red thing looks best to me.”
Ember pressed her palm to his neck. He crumpled to the ground, the paralytic in the leaf rushing through his blood stream in no time at all.
I took a moment to prop him up against the wall. “That won’t hurt him will it?”
“This? No, it’s a diluted version. The President created it for me to carry—for my protection. He’ll sleep for a few hours but that’s all.”
Michael pulled me away. “Ava, what’s the plan? You won’t survive out in the desert for long. Even if we could gather enough water and supplies, we have nowhere to go, nobody to shelter us.”
“I know where I might find nectar. It’s our only hope.”
“You mean the tree? There’s no way through this glass unless we break it.”
Ember interrupted us. “The glass can’t be broken. It may look fragile, but it’s spun from Seversandian sand. It’s designed to keep people out.”
“No. Under the tree. There’s a vault. It’s this way.”
Ember interrupted me again. “I don’t understand what this nectar is that you’re talking about, but if you mean the tomb…” She clutched her stomach. “I can’t go down there. It’s … I can’t even bear to think about it.”
I said, “I understand. But you need to come with me. If there’s nectar, you need to take it too. I don’t have time to explain, but it’s the sap from the tree. It causes regeneration, even in mortals.”
Especially in mortals. I didn’t try to explain what other effects it had. If she reacted to it in some way, we’d deal with it when it happened.
I ran with Michael around the glass corridor while Ember kept pace behind us. When we reached the opening at the top of the stairs, I held the lamp high, lighting our way into the vault.
Michael paused at the entrance to the chamber. “Ava, what is this place?”
I hadn’t filled him in on any of the details and I gave him an abridged version as we passed through the corridor and into the tomb. He sucked in a shocked breath and his hand found mine. I blinked back my tears, holding the lamp high to see the far end.
Ember was frozen in the arched doorway behind me and didn’t try to hide the tears in her eyes as she looked from one tiny coffin to the next. I returned to her and reached for her dagger, hoping she’d give it to me willingly.
“If there’s nectar, then I’ll need something sharp to extract it.”
She handed the knife to me but wiped it first. I could tell she was reluctant to relinquish it. “Be careful with that.”
President Vale had said that even Ember didn’t know that a weapon hadn’t been created from her DNA. She truly believed that the dagger was coated in deadly serum.
I tried to ignore the coffins as I searched the walls for the fine black threads that would tell me that the tree’s roots had invaded the chamber. Not finding anything closer, I headed past the lethal plant in its glass case to the back wall.
I estimated that this end of the room would be closest to the ground beneath the tree and provided my last hope of finding the life-giving liquid I needed.
Sure enough, fine black threads marbled the sandy surface. But there was a problem. A big one.
The room was tapered and the back wall was narrow. Directly in front of it was a high stone dais and on it rested the only adult-sized coffin in the room. The coffin was the same width as the wall and blocked it completely. The only way to reach the wall was to climb over the coffin.
Ember snagged my arm. “There’s a song about the fully-grown mortal. A man. People sing that he stumbled out of the desert one day, sick, and died beneath the tree.”
“The President told me that too. She said he was the only one who survived to become an adult.”
“This is his place of rest.” She ran her hand across the side of the coffin. Like the others, this coffin was also brass, tarnished with age, but its lid was covered in a thick, golden pelt.
Ember drew back with a gasp. “Don’t touch it!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s real.” Her eyebrows drew down in deep disapproval. “There are many skilled weavers who can replicate a lion’s fur for clothing and rugs. I thought this was one of those, but this … isn’t a fake.”
I cleared my throat, conscious of time slipping away. “I’m sorry to ask this, but can you help me swivel the coffin so I can squeeze in behind it? I think there’s enough space on the dais to move it. Failing that, I’ll have to climb onto it…”
“I can’t touch that. It’s forbidden to kill a Seversandian lion. It’s like a curse. A sign of evil. I know it’s not worse than what else has been done in this room, but it’s…” Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t understand how anyone could do any of this.”
I shook my head, feeling frustrated by the delay, but also understanding the revulsion and disbelief on her face. A beautiful, but deadly, animal had been slaughtered. Innocent bodies lay inside coffins throughout the room and while the President claimed that most of them had sickened and died, she’d admitted to worse.
But for me right then, a lion’s pelt was not more important than my life. “Would it help if I remove it?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Please.”
By then, Michael had made his way over to us and I knew it would take all three of us to move the coffin. With as much respect as I could manage, I took hold of the top end of the pelt and rolled it up from one end of the coffin to the other. The fur was softer than I imagined and for a moment, I allowed myself to remember the snow leopards, the exhilarating ride down the Starsgardian mountain with Snowboy, and the animals’ incredible loyalty.
I deposited the pelt on the nearest shelf and locked away my memories at the same time. Michael and Ember were already attempting to move the coffin, but it wasn’t until I joined them that it budged enough that I could slip behind it to examine the wall.
Before I could touch the fine black threads I’d found, Ember gave a cry from behind me. I whirled, expecting guards to flood the room, but instead Ember pointed to the top of the coffin.
Its entire length was carved with words. They were in Seversandian and I didn’t have a hope of reading them, but Ember’s hungry gaze raked the coffin at speed.
She said, “It’s the song about the mortal man, but…” Her expression became increasingly confused, the frown returning to her face as she ran her fingers across the words. “This isn’t the song I know.”
She glanced at the rolled up lion’s pelt and back to the top of the coffin. “Someone covered this up. They knew nobody would touch the lion’s skin so they used it to hide this song.”
“What is it Ember? Quickly. We don’t have much time.”
The tree roots on the wall behind me called to me, but the expression on Ember’s face gave me pause. The coffin had guarded this wall and, in turn, the lion’s pelt had guarded the writing on the coffin. We’d tampered with both, and I was suddenly filled with foreboding and doubt.
I had no idea what nectar from this dying tree would do. The nectar I knew came from a branch grafted onto a tree of beauty—a pure magnolia that provided shade in summer and a place for the scorpions to rest in winter. It was healthy and full of life.
The tree here, above us, lived on ash and dust. It was twisted and sunken and rotting.
I lowered the knife. “I need to know what this song means. Will you translate it for me?”
Ember’s voice became melodic and for the first time I realized the power of songs as stories given life in music. She sang more beautifully than anyone I’d ever heard and I remembered Rift telling me about her voice when he was young. He’d said that an important woman used to visit them in the pod to hear his sister’s songs. Knowing what I did now, I su
spected the woman was the President and that she’d actually gone to see Rift.
Ember sang: “At the end of the Fracture, two brothers made pilgrimage to the Tree of Life to give thanks for the unity of all the tribes. The first brother’s heart was brave and loyal. The second brother’s heart was wise and strong. As they stood beneath the tree, both brothers touched its branches. The tree gave to the second brother a flower. But to the first brother, it gave a precious plum, the first fruit since the time of Eve.
“Seeing the fruit, the second brother was so taken by envy and rage that he struck the first brother down with his sword.”
Ember’s voice faltered. That was the part of the inscription where she rested her hand. She lifted her fingers as though they burned. “Unmoved by his brother’s death, the second brother took the plum. He ate the fruit and gained true immortality.”
She stopped, her hand resting on the final line. “The first brother’s blood soaked into the ground. And so the Tree of Life knew Death.”
I was frozen in the silence. A million thoughts filled my head: threads of conversations, things I’d witnessed, a moment in time when I pressed my hand to the heart of a murderer and he didn’t budge…
I could barely speak. “How old is Alexander?”
Ember exhaled. “I’m told he’s a thousand years old.”
“Is it possible that he’s the second brother? The immortal one? Because that would explain why I couldn’t kill him.”
Ember swung to the very first line. “This says the murder happened at the end of the Fracture.”
“What’s the Fracture?” Michael asked.
“The Fracture was when our country was divided and the tribes fought each other. It was a time of enormous unrest. The Fracture ended a thousand years ago. Which means this man died a thousand years ago.”
I said, “So it could have been Alexander. And it means he had a mortal brother. Because this man died. He died under the tree.”
Ember nodded. “The tree began to die when this man was murdered.”
“And so the tree knew death,” I murmured.
I returned to face the wall, the dagger ready to find the nectar I needed, but I stopped, clutching the blade.
“I see the threads, but they’re dull, not glossy like the ones in Starsgard. Under the tower back home, nectar oozes out of the roots like honey, like it’s giving us what we need. We never had to take it by force. But these threads are different. I’ll have to pierce them deep to find anything.”
My shoulders slumped. “I really don’t know what to do.” Without leaving the spot, I reached for Michael. “Help me? I can’t figure this out on my own.”
As his arms wrapped around me in the small space, he said, “You can figure anything out.”
I leaned into him, seeking inspiration. “I’m desperate, Michael. I can’t survive the desert without nectar, but the thought of cutting into this now makes me feel sick.”
Around me, all the coffins glinted, pressing in around us. “It’s not right. There’s too much death in this room.”
I backed up, taking Michael with me. “I think this tree will kill me, not save me.”
He caught me before I stumbled, encouraging me to focus as he kissed my forehead. “Then we need another plan.”
He swung to Ember. “What about the pod where you grew up? Are there any tunnels leading out from it that could allow us to travel underground, out of the sun?”
“No … At least, I don’t think so.”
“Then we need to find another way. Think, Ember, please.”
Her hands flew to her cheeks, and I understood how much pressure she was under. If I hadn’t come back to this chamber, I wouldn’t have discovered the inscription on the man’s coffin, but it was beginning to feel like this place would be our own tomb.
“We can’t stay here. We have to find another way out.” I tugged on Michael’s arm and all three of us ran toward the entrance.
Just as we reached the corridor at the bottom of the steps, a shape moved in the darkness. I skidded to a halt and Michael bumped into me, grabbing me to balance us both. I was still clutching Ember’s knife.
When a door opened in the side of the corridor, Michael drew me back into the chamber, shielding Ember and me.
“Ava! Michael!” His dad entered the circle of lamplight.
“Dad?”
“I was worried I’d miss you. Elissa said she’d show you this room, but it was a big gamble that you’d come back here.”
“Elissa? Who?”
“The President,” Ember said, looking as surprised as I was.
Mr. Bradley was more disheveled than I’d ever seen him. Cobwebs stuck to his hair and his clothing was covered in dust.
He said, “This way, quickly. It’s the only way out. The tunnel will take you right by your brothers. After that, help’s coming to take you the rest of the way.”
I asked, “Take us the rest of the way to where?”
He paused. “I can’t walk this path with you, Ava. Only you can do that. You have choices ahead of you that nobody should have to make.”
A shout in the distance told me we had to move. Shadows flickered across the space at the top of the stairs. I met Mr. Bradley’s concerned eyes as many more shapes moved beyond the entrance. Footsteps thudded above us. Shouting met my ears. They must have discovered Aaron.
“Go,” he said. “I’ll distract them.”
We raced into the tunnel and he closed the door behind us. I handed the lamp to Michael because he could hold it higher.
“This way,” Michael said, drawing us forward.
The reasons for Mr. Bradley’s dusty appearance soon became apparent. Spiders scurried across the walls and rodents scampered across our path. Michael ran ahead of us, clearing a path, but even so, the debris slowed us down.
“Your dad said we’d go right by my brothers. What if we miss them?”
“We won’t.” Ember was more certain than she’d been inside the chamber, as if the weight of the room had clouded her mind. “The President told the guards to take your brothers to the Starlight Pod. That’s this direction. Its walls are decorated with diamonds—we won’t miss it.”
I said, “As soon as they discover I’m missing, they’re sure to double the guard on my brothers. We need to reach them before that happens.”
“Then, let’s run.” Ember broke into a deft sprint. She was quick and nimble and reminded me of Snowboy even without nectar. Michael kept pace with her and I focused on staying in the circle of light in the dark tunnel.
Michael took a moment to say, “I can’t wait to see what she does with nectar.”
I managed to grin. The first few times I’d taken nectar, I’d been scared beyond belief of the immeasurable strength it gave me—and of what I’d thought were hallucinations. It had different effects on each of the mortals and we wouldn’t know the effect on Ember until she took it.
“Here.” Ember skidded to a halt, running her hands across the walls. True to what she’d said, bright gems glowed through the walls. There was a patch on the wall, about my height, that didn’t glow at all.
“This is the door. Each pod has multiple exits, but my guess is this one’s concealed on the other side. Help me push.”
“Where’s Quake when you need him?” Michael said, shoving hard with the rest of us.
The door budged, creaked. There was a crack and together we heaved through the doorway with a crash.
Inside, the pod was larger than I’d expected and comfortably furnished. All three of my brothers sat around a table. As soon as we spilled into the room, they leaped to their feet. Rift knocked over his chair, but Quake’s was already in his fists, ready to whack it over my head.
He paused mid-attack. “Ava!”
Blaze and Rift mimicked his cry. “You’re here!”
There was no time for explanations. “We have to hurry. This is the way out.”
“Are you kidding me?” Blaze was aghast, sticking his head
into the tunnel to take a look. “That tunnel was there the whole time?”
“Wait.” Rift dashed across the room and snatched up a bundle of cloaks. He shoved them into a bag and threw it over his back. “We’ll need these.”
“Someone’s meeting us at the end of the tunnel,” I said as they hurried toward me.
“Who?”
“Ah … Mr. Bradley didn’t say.”
“And you trust him?” Rift demanded, but he froze as he caught sight of Ember. “Isn’t she one of the guards?”
I said, “Ember’s the other mortal girl.”
His eyes widened. “My sister.”
“Um…” I glanced at Ember. In the frenzy to get away, I’d forgotten all about that…
Before I could say anything, Rift pulled her into a hug, an unusual display of emotion for him. For many years, he’d believed that his sister was shot dead when he escaped Seversand, and worse, that it was his fault she died. He’d only recently discovered she was still alive. He didn’t know she wasn’t his sister after all.
Emotion was raw in his voice when he spoke, muffled against her hair. “You’re really alive.”
Ember turned bright red as his arms tightened around her and I remembered what the President had said about not allowing anyone to touch her. If President Vale had meant that literally, then Rift was well and truly crossing boundaries right then without knowing it.
Ember shifted as he continued to hold her and I thought for a moment she’d use the same maneuver that she’d used on Aaron. She was mortal, but the President had trained her as her personal guard. And on top of that, she was a Rivera. If she was as determined as Michael, then Rift was in for a surprise.
In the nick of time, Rift pulled back, tears streaming down his face. Ember froze in his arms, eyes widening, staring at his wet cheeks.
He whispered. “I thought you were dead. I thought you died because of me.”
“No.” She swallowed, transfixed by the emotion he was showering all over her. Instead of forcing him onto his backside, she extricated one of her hands, brushing the tears from his cheeks. He responded by bowing his face into her palms.
She blushed as he released her.
