by C. R. Grey
Eneas paced. “We can’t fight the Dominae with a pack of old men!” he shouted.
“I beg your pardon!” said Digby. “I’m only fifty-four!”
“Eneas, be reasonable,” said Tremelo. “Calm down; let’s go inside. We’re just courting trouble, yelling in the woods like this.”
He patted Digby’s shoulder, urging him into the tunnel. Eneas stormed past with Elspeth at his heels. Then Tremelo fixed his eyes on Bailey. He sighed.
“I’m sorry I spoke so harshly before,” he said. “I was worried. Anything could have happened to you.”
“You didn’t have to worry,” said Bailey. “I had Taleth with me—and besides, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re on watch, isn’t it? I saw someone in the woods; I wanted to make sure they weren’t going to hurt us.”
Tremelo stroked his mustache, which had recently joined forces with a full beard. “Just take care of yourself.”
“Fine,” Bailey mumbled. Why did everyone assume that he couldn’t? He’d been through so much already, and was still alive. “Why was Eneas so upset?” he asked.
Tremelo’s shoulders slumped; Bailey noticed shadows under his eyes.
“It doesn’t matter,” Tremelo answered. “Everyone has different ideas about what to do next, that’s all. And if Mr. Miller’s report is to be trusted, then we’re up against an unknown.”
“What do we do?” Bailey asked.
Tremelo smiled wearily.
“We keep hoping,” he said. He gripped Bailey’s shoulder. “Get some sleep tonight, all right? I’ll send one of Digby’s men out on the watch.”
As he lay awake under his coat that night, Bailey turned the encounter with Mr. Miller over in his mind. Miller had been relieved and honored, as he put it, to see Bailey alive. Bailey wondered just what the people in Aldermere who lived farther from the City, the people like his mom and dad in the Golden Lowlands, knew about the Dominae, and about him. The Child of War. Had his and Taleth’s appearance at the Fair only served to start a whirl of rumors, or were there people out there who actually had hope that a True King lived, and that the prophecy was real and coming true? Those were the people he and the Allies needed to find, he knew. But the kingdom was scattered with spies, and he hardly knew where to start.
Bailey awoke the next morning when Taleth, who had been snoring at his side, suddenly leapt up onto all fours and bared her teeth.
“What’s going on?” he asked as her lashing tail nearly hit him in the forehead. Four Velyn men ran past his niche with their weapons in their hands.
“He took his knives, his bow—even his extra boots,” one of them was saying.
“He’s coming back, isn’t he?” said another.
Bailey rose from his blanket on the floor and followed Taleth out into the tunnel. All along the passageway, nervous Velyn men and women clumped together, whispering.
“He wouldn’t just leave us like this,” said a healer woman, pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders. “Does he want us to leave too?”
“I thought he trusted Tremelo,” said the young fighter she was speaking to. He flexed the claws affixed to his right hand. “Perhaps he didn’t, after all. Perhaps none of us should.”
Bailey looked away and hurried to Tremelo’s workshop. There he found Tremelo speaking with Gwen and Digby.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Tremelo stood stroking his mustache; his brow was lined with worry.
“It’s Eneas,” he said. “He’s disappeared.”
“HOW CAN WE BE certain that the other Velyn won’t up and leave as well?”
“Did he say anything to anyone about where he’s gone?”
“We can’t wait any longer to reach out to the other RATS! We need more of our own people on our side!”
The shouts of the men inside Tremelo’s workspace reminded Gwen of her days as the Elder’s apprentice, sitting in on countless debates and speeches, taking notes as one red-faced, fist-shaking dignitary after the next laid out their opinions and plans. She and her friends leaned against the cavern wall and watched as the RATS argued among themselves. Bailey seemed anxious to join in the war talk, though Gwen suspected that the seasoned warriors and revolutionaries in the room would not be pleased to hear from a schoolboy. As for her, she was content to stay quiet. Her mind felt cloudy.
At times like this she would’ve played her harmonica, but when she rode in Tremelo’s motorbuggy through the deranged crowd of kin at the Progress Fair, her owls had attacked her—and she’d lost it then.
“Already there’s rumors going round the tunnels that Eneas never trusted you,” said Merrit, an Animas Sheepdog who had been with the RATS since the days of the Loon, Tremelo’s mentor. “Even if it’s not true—even if he was taken, or something like that—the damage has been done. The Velyn will start to leave if we don’t take action now!”
“And what kind of action is that?” Tremelo asked. “We don’t have the forces to march against Viviana, and we risk opening ourselves to attack if we begin recruiting among normal citizens. We need to remain strong, and reach out to those whom we know will join us. We can’t be taking risks!”
Digby Barnes swept his red knit cap from his head and used it to wipe his brow.
“It’s going to be a hard task, tracking down what RATS is in hiding,” he said. “You all know the Dominae’s been hunting down RATS Nests. Why, even on the journey here from the Gray City, the Dominae was behind us, and probably figured Bailey here would stop in the first RATS Nest he could find. I know I’ll never forget seein’ the meeting place of the Arden RATS set alight from the top of that hill. We ken only hope they all made it out alive, and even if we do find them, they’s only five men and women strong.” He shook his head, his eyes narrow and grim.
“But there must be others out there who would fight on our side,” said Bailey. As Gwen had expected, the RATS all looked at him with mild annoyance. “Nearly everyone in the kingdom saw or heard of what Viviana did at the Fair! They know she’s evil!”
“It’s not as easy as knowing what’s right and what’s wrong,” said Tremelo. “Fear is a terrible hindrance. And in that regard, Viviana got exactly what she wanted on the Equinox—she made everyone in Aldermere fear her.”
“And she scattered our kind to the four corners as well,” spat Digby. “I’ll do what I can, with Roger’s help, but I make no guarantees.”
“We have to try,” said Tremelo. “I leave it to you, my friend, to use every resource you can to find us more allies. As for me…”
“Ever the tinkerer,” said Merrit.
“Yes, that’s right,” said Tremelo. “Eneas didn’t understand, and I don’t expect all of you to, either. But the Dominae is too powerful to defeat with manpower alone. I will stay here and continue my experiments in the hope that I may be able to protect us from Viviana when we are finally ready to face her.”
“Protect us?” said Merrit. “We don’t want to be protected from Dominance; we want to destroy Dominance! How do you propose we do that? With your little trinkets?”
“Easy,” Digby said as he crossed his arms. “That’s the king you’re talking to.”
“Well, I knew him as the Loon’s boy before he was ever a king,” Merrit shot back. “Tremelo, I’m sorry if you need to grow a thicker skin, but here and now we need solutions—”
Gwen breathed in deeply; all this talk of fighting, of war, made her feel queasy. She’d already lost her dearest friend, the Elder. How many more of her friends would she lose to Viviana’s rage? She sat down with her back against the cavern wall. Her head swam, and her vision clouded. She held her hands up to her eyes. Not now. She didn’t want a vision to happen now, in front of all of these people. Not many knew of her newly discovered gift. If her status as a Seer became widely known, she would be pulled in all directions by Allies wanting to know how best to proceed. But she couldn’t stop the light from growing.
Your Glass is calling to you, my dear, sang
a voice in Gwen’s memory—Ama, the Seer whom she’d met before Viviana’s Fair. You can feel it beckoning to you.
She peeled back the flap of her rucksack. Indeed, the interior of the bag was lit by a slightly pulsing, pearlescent glow. As she reached in and cupped it with both hands, she marveled at how beautiful it was—ribbons of light, like sun on a moving stream, rippled through its angles and planes. Instinctively, she stepped back, away from the group—and the voices in the tunnel began to fade away. The light behind her eyes scrubbed away everything in sight, until all she could see was whiteness.
Then, ash—falling from the sky all around her like snow. She heard the stomping of hooves, echoing across a rocky chasm. The hooves drew nearer. She turned, but couldn’t see them, only the softly falling ash, glinting against a cloudy sky. A shout, a cry for help—she looked behind her to see a man and a boy struggling on a cliff. The man grabbed the boy’s arms and forced him back until he was nearly over the edge. It was Bailey, and he was about to die unless Gwen helped him. She ran toward them, her feet slipping on the ashy ground.
Bailey! she cried. Hold on!
She beat on the back of the mysterious man with her fists; she grabbed his shoulder and tried to force him to retreat and leave Bailey safe. But, it felt as though she were a ghost, watching her hand pass through a wall. There was no effect. She was not even there.
It’s not happening, she thought. This is only a vision. If I can just see the man’s face…
Bailey continued to struggle. He was breathing hard, and was no match for the strength of the man who was forcing him, inch by inch, to the cliff’s edge.
Gwen ducked as the man bore down on Bailey. She moved so that she could see his face. What she saw made her recoil. The familiar mustache; the sad, tired eyes—it couldn’t be true.
“Tremelo!” she cried.
Her eyes opened.
“Ants alive—yes? I’m right here!” Tremelo crouched in front of her, his eyes wide with surprise and concern.
She lay on the ground with her pack open next to her. The Glass still glowed faintly; she closed the flap so no one could see. Phi sat at her side, while Digby, Bailey, Tori, and Hal stood nearby.
“Oh, thank Nature, she’s back,” wheezed Digby. He held his red wool stocking cap in his hands, wringing it back and forth.
“Are you all right?” asked Phi. “You collapsed.”
Gwen sat up with Phi’s help. Her hands shook. She couldn’t stop the image of Tremelo grappling with Bailey from playing itself over and over in her mind.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Just tired.”
She leaned on Phi, who led her out of the workspace. Gwen felt the eyes of Tremelo and RATS bearing down on her.
“She just needs some space,” Phi told them, helping her to her feet. She brought Gwen to their sleeping place, which was a cozy nook just around the corner from the tunnel exit. Bailey, Tori, and Hal followed closely.
“Are you okay?” whispered Phi. “Was it a vision?” She eased Gwen down onto her sleeping pallet.
“What do you mean, a ‘vision’?” asked Hal, his hearing as acute as ever.
“You’re having visions?” said Bailey.
Gwen felt exposed at the mention of them in front of the others. But the sight of Bailey’s face—kind, curious—made her last vision all the more harrowing. She couldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t lose her new friend. The resistance couldn’t lose him.
“Yes,” she told them shakily. “I’m a Seer. I only found out when Phi and I were in the Peaks.”
“And the Glass belongs to her,” Phi added.
Gwen nodded. “When I told you at the Fair that the Reckoning was about to begin, it’s because I saw it in a vision,” Gwen said, still looking at the floor. “My first vision, in the Seer’s cave. I knew what was going to happen before it happened.”
“Whoa,” said Hal. “So, what did you see this time?”
Tremelo is going to try to kill Bailey, she thought, but she didn’t dare say it out loud. It couldn’t be true—and if it was true, then why would Tremelo do such a thing?
“It wasn’t clear,” she said. “Some ash. A cloudy sky.”
“What does it mean?” Hal asked, pushing up his glasses.
“I think the more constructive question is: Can you tell us where to go? What to do next?” Tori asked. Her eyes were wide, and she seemed genuinely hopeful—which made Gwen feel even worse.
Gwen shook her head and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. She could feel the blood in her head pounding.
“It doesn’t work like that,” she said. “I can’t make myself see something specific.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Bailey. He’d been silent, and only now, when he spoke, did she realize he was hurt. “We’ve been together this whole time….”
“She’s only just found out that she’s a Seer. She needs time to get used to it,” Phi said to Bailey. “And we can’t tell the others, either. If the Allies knew, they’d never stop asking her questions.”
“I was going to tell you, really I was,” Gwen said. “And Tremelo too. But after the Fair…” The memory of Melem the owl screeching at her, how the sound had echoed the same screech she’d heard in her first vision, made Gwen’s skin crawl. She had asked Ama, the wise old Seer, if her visions could be changed, and although she had not killed Melem, everything else that had happened to her at the Fair mirrored what she had seen. What did this mean, she wondered, for Bailey? Until she knew for certain, all she could do was try to protect Bailey in any way she could, even if that meant keeping him away from his own mentor. She breathed deep. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”
The others looked at her as though she’d just grown feathers, and they were afraid she’d fly away if frightened. Phi rubbed her back. After a moment, Bailey spoke.
“Well…if you happen to see anything, you’ll let us know, right?” he asked.
“Bailey,” reprimanded Phi.
“I’m sorry, we just need all the help we can get,” Bailey said. “We know Viviana’s going to have the power of Dominance on her side, plus whatever those new contraptions her tinkerers are making for her. We’ve got the bond. But it’s not enough! You heard what Merrit said—we need something that can destroy Dominance once and for all! Tremelo can only do so much on his own. There’s a whole kingdom out there, full of people who might help us. We need to find them!”
“But what about Viviana’s army?” Tori asked. “She’s not just fighting with humans; we can expect that much, can’t we? She’ll be using people’s kin!”
“That, and whatever she’s making in the Seers’ Valley,” said Hal.
“That’s right,” said Tori. “We don’t just need an army; we need some kind of weapon.”
Gwen imagined a Halcyon machine as large as a rigimotive car, pushed onto a battlefield by Digby and his RATS, and powered by a crank the size of Taleth the white tiger. What such weapon could exist—and what could it do?
“What we need is something that can destroy Dominance, not just heal the bond,” said Bailey.
Tori cocked her head at him.
“Say that again?” she asked. She looked at Gwen and made a gesture to her beaded messenger bag.
“We need a weapon that doesn’t just heal the bond,” Bailey repeated. “Something that can actually cut away at Dominance.”
“Ants alive,” said Tori. “Gwen—are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Gwen felt all eyes on her once more. Bailey and Hal raised confused eyebrows, while Tori grinned and nodded at her. Phi simply smiled with support and placed her hand on Gwen’s own.
“Well, what do you think?” said Tori.
Gwen nodded. She knew precisely what Tori was thinking. Bailey’s words had sounded a bell in Gwen’s mind, a bell she knew was ringing in Tori’s and Phi’s as well.
“It’s time to tell him,” Gwen said.
“TELL ME WHAT?” BAILEY asked. The girls each looked at him, and then
at one another. He immediately felt a strong dislike for the tunnels that had been their home for the past weeks.
“Yeah, tell us what?” asked Hal.
“What’s with all the secrets?” Bailey said. Gwen hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him she was a Seer. Now what would he learn?
“It’s not that we wanted to keep this from you—” said Gwen.
“We just didn’t trust you to keep your mouths shut,” said Tori.
“—but we wanted to wait until we actually had something of value to share,” Gwen finished.
Tori pulled off her beaded bag, which she always wore, messenger-style, around her shoulders. She undid the drawstring, swept away a black snake that slithered from the opening, and took out a familiar leather-bound book with an embossed image of a wild cat—a tiger—on its cover.
“The Loon’s book!” Bailey said. “You’ve had it the whole time?”
Tori smirked.
“When Tremelo and I packed up for the Fair, I didn’t think it was right to leave it at the school. Anything could have happened to it!”
“Anything could have happened to it at the Fair, too,” said Hal. “You should be glad Viviana didn’t find out you had it!”
Tori shot him a narrow-eyed look.
“I was going to give it to you, but then I thought, well, they won’t even be able to read it, so I’d better talk to Gwen first—”
“Because I have the Seers’ Glass,” said Gwen.
“Right,” said Tori. “So while you’ve been playing mini-warriors, we’ve been looking through it together, trying to find something useful.”
Bailey wanted to leap forward and grab the book from Tori’s hands. He resisted, but his very skin felt alive with excitement.
“So, have you found something, then?” he asked.
Tori held out the book to him. The leather was soft under his fingers. He traced the embossed creature on the front cover with his finger. He knew now that it was a white tiger—his own Animas. His entire fate was in this book that the Loon had written.
