Lightning Tracks

by A. A. Kinsela

  ‘Not in the Bandála ranks. He’s as low as us. When the Bandála find out about him, all they’ll care about is whether he’ll join them. If he decides not to, the fact that he’s Kaléysan’s son won’t matter. In their eyes, he could become as big a threat to them as Thanos. Nick will have to watch himself.’

  The fire flared, and their shadows flickered across the wall.

  ‘We can protect him if it comes to that,’ Cal murmured. ‘We swore an oath to the sun god, remember? We swore to defend the king.’ A slow smile spread across his face. ‘And if Nick decides to take that path, we can help him get rid of Thanos and the Arai for good.’

  Artemis stared at him. Then she smiled too.

  Chapter 20: The training field

  Nick sat on the roof of his apartment block and watched as the dawn split the sky. He’d been up for an hour already, thinking over and over about what he’d read in Valerius’ book. It had answered most of the questions he’d been burning to ask for days, but it had also thrown up a whole lot more. Why had Thanos sent the Arai to Buckadgery Creek when he could’ve just let Nick continue living in total ignorance? How had they even known where to find him? And why hadn’t David or Mía told him the truth? This last question twisted his insides the most.

  In Market Square below, people slotted trestle tables together and stacked them with trays of fruit, bread, and dried fish. Merchants dragged baskets the size of boulders into a line and whipped off lids to reveal gallons of colourful spices. Another stall owner arranged leather balls into a neat pyramid. As Nick leaned out over the stone railing, he remembered how he’d stopped the Arai assassin’s sword with his bare arms, and wondered whether that strange invisible shield, the one that David had called maléya, would protect him if he fell off the roof.

  He took out the map that he’d stolen from Valerius’ office last night—it comforted him just knowing he had it—and studied it closely. A few words scribbled in the corner caught his eye:

  X – confirmed

  O – unconfirmed

  XI – inaccessible or hazardous

  He examined each mark again. The two at Buckadgery Creek were ‘X’s: accessible song gates, although after they’d gone through, David had somehow made theirs disappear by sliding a mirror shard underneath the shimmering air. Nick located five more ‘X’s as well as four ‘O’s. Six of the gates, including the one outside Auremos, were classified ‘XI’. Maybe Nick wouldn’t be able to use the Blackrock Falls song gate after all.

  With that thought, he sat back on his haunches and propped his chin in his hands. What he’d learned in the last week challenged everything he knew and understood about the world. Where was his home? Was it really Buckadgery Creek? Or was it somewhere here, on this map? That Arai assassin hadn’t just ripped Mía out of his life. He’d uprooted Nick’s entire existence, and now Nick wasn’t sure where he belonged.

  The trapdoor swung open and David climbed onto the roof clutching two cups of coffee in one fist. Nick stuffed the map into his pocket.

  ‘I heard you broke into the council chamber last night,’ David said.

  ‘Well, I had to get answers somehow, since you never bothered to tell me anything.’

  David handed Nick a cup. ‘You wouldn’t have believed me.’

  ‘So what? You still should’ve told me.’ Nick gulped some coffee. ‘Why did you take me through the song gate when I was little?’

  ‘I didn’t. Mía did.’

  ‘Mía?’

  David released a long breath and sat with his legs stretched out, as if he knew reliving the details was going to cost him more energy than he had in reserve. ‘It was just after the Battle of Deadman’s Stretch. When the Arai captured your mother, Jónatan went after her. I followed him into Korelios and tried to persuade him to come back to Auremos. He wouldn’t listen. All he wanted was to stop Phoebe’s execution, but we arrived too late. The Arai caught us, and I...’ David’s eyes flared like blown coals. ‘I was forced to watch as they hanged Jónatan off the battlements.’

  Nick shuddered, hugging himself against the chill of those words. ‘Was it...quick?’

  David nodded. ‘And for Phoebe too. Over in an instant.’

  ‘So...how did you escape?’

  ‘I didn’t.’ Pain flashed across David’s face. ‘They imprisoned me for...I don’t know how long. A year. Maybe more. They wanted information, anything they could get, and I...I didn’t give it up willingly. When they were finished, they marked me with their mileskúlos tattoo and left me for dead on the border. I guess they wanted the Bandála to think that I’d defected.’

  Nick stared at him, horrified. ‘They...tortured you? For a year?’

  David sipped his coffee and didn’t reply.

  ‘Shit. Is that why you came through the song gate? Because you needed to recover?’

  ‘Yes. Mía came back for me. She saved us both.’

  Nick bowed his head. He recalled Mía’s infectious laughter, her warm, brown eyes, her firmness, her gentleness, the way she hummed as she cooked, or sang out loud when she thought the house was empty. He remembered how, when he was small, he would huddle on her lap and listen to her heartbeat while her fingers trailed through his hair.

  ‘I miss her,’ he whispered.

  ‘I know. But she’s not gone. She left an imprint here.’ David touched Nick’s temple. ‘And here.’ He tapped his chest. ‘She loved you more than anything else, Nick. All she wanted to do was to protect you. Just like me.’

  Nick sniffed and muttered, ‘Mía was not like you.’

  The wind changed direction, blowing a cool gust from the south.

  ‘Who is he, David? The Arai with the hazel eyes.’

  David stared at the dregs in his cup and replied, ‘His name is Alexander. He’s the general of the Arai.’

  ‘You’ve fought him before, haven’t you?’

  ‘A few times.’

  Nick wondered if David had maléya, and if so, why he hadn’t used it to defend himself against Alexander’s poisoned dagger. Maybe he’d wanted to, but hadn’t been able to.

  ‘Did he use an inhibitor on you?’

  David frowned. ‘How do you know about inhibitors?’

  ‘Felix had one in his saddlebag. Julian thought it was mine. That’s why he arrested me. Well, that and my tattoo.’

  ‘Julian didn’t mention the inhibitor. Strange.’

  ‘He’s more than strange. I reckon he knew exactly who I was before he’d even seen my tattoo or the inhibitor or my Bandála necklace.’

  ‘Why do you think that?’

  ‘I could tell from the way he looked at me.’

  David raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Fine. Don’t believe me.’ Nick huffed then asked, ‘So how do inhibitors work?’

  ‘They neutralise us. Cripple our senses. After an inhibitor is removed, our maléya often can’t function for some time. It affects different people in different ways. Sometimes it messes with hearing, sight or balance. In almost every case, it will block a Yándi’s ability to shield.’

  ‘How long does it last?’

  ‘It’s hard to say. If the inhibitor is on for a few minutes, it might affect you for a day or two. An hour could put you out for a couple of weeks or even months at a time.’

  He sounded as though he knew what that felt like.

  ‘David,’ Nick began, then hesitated, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer to his next question. He drew a quick breath and gathered his courage. ‘If Alexander hadn’t come for me, would you’ve ever told me the truth about Korelios and my parents?’

  ‘Of course I would have,’ David replied. ‘When the time was right.’

  Nick recalled Valerius flipping to the blank pages in The Monarchy of Korelios and the words that had followed: ‘There’s still space. If you want it.’

  ‘David, did you bring me here because you want me to—?’

  ‘Breakfast’s ready!’ Jinx bellowed from the stairwell.

  Nick scowled. ‘Oh, no wa
y. Jinx is here too?’

  ‘Didn’t Kráytos tell you? Xanthe, Jinx and I are staying here with you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s for your own safety.’

  Nick thumped down the spiral staircase. Jinx had claimed the front bedroom of the apartment and waved as he passed her door. Xanthe seemed to have brought her work with her. The kitchen windowsill was lined with bowls full of various powdered or sticky substances, and bunches of herbs hung from hooks in the wooden ceiling beams.

  ‘Don’t touch any of this stuff, Nick,’ she said.

  ‘Hello to you too,’ he replied. ‘What’s it for?’

  ‘Medicine, mostly.’

  Amaránta had laid out a feast of sliced fruit, hot sourdough, soft goat’s cheese, and a pot of fresh coffee for their breakfast. Nick tucked in without hesitation. When Jinx plonked herself down next to him, he shuffled away from her.

  ‘What do you think of Auremos, Nick?’ David asked, sitting beside Xanthe.

  ‘It’s too big.’

  ‘You’ll get used to it.’

  David spoke as if he’d already decided that Nick’s stay would be permanent. Knowing that the song gate map was tucked safely in his pocket, Nick was able to hold his tongue.

  Once they’d finished breakfast, David said, ‘Right. Jinx, get your boots. Morning drill starts soon.’

  As Jinx danced out of the kitchen, Nick realised she was dressed in a Bandála uniform.

  ‘Isn’t she a bit young to be a soldier?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s in training, and you should be too,’ Xanthe said, casting David a meaningful look. She gathered an armful of medicine bowls and went into the hall.

  ‘Xanthe’s right,’ David said. ‘You need to learn how to defend yourself against the Arai. Shielding won’t be enough if you have to face them again.’ He glanced at his hand, the one that Alexander had slashed with his poisoned dagger, and added, ‘They have ways of getting past that particular defence.’

  Xanthe stuck her head around the door. ‘David, I’m heading over to the surgery. You’d better hurry if you want to make the council meeting.’

  He stood and said to Nick, ‘Kráytos will take you to the training field. Make sure you follow his rules. And keep your tattoo hidden.’

  ‘But I don’t have a uniform.’

  ‘Yes, you do. It’s on your bed.’

  Xanthe and David left. Jinx returned to the kitchen and grabbed a wild plum.

  ‘So, it turns out we’re cousins,’ she said.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘And you’re royalty.’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Weird.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly.’

  She took a bite of the plum and said, ‘Don’t expect me to bow, gumbrain.’

  She left before he could reply, slamming the front door behind her. Nick changed into his new grey pants, white singlet and black boots then stuffed the song gate map under his mattress where he’d hidden the Yándi Mythos book.

  As Nick came downstairs, Kráytos watched him with a peculiar, intent look. Thinking he was about to be criticised for his presentation, Nick tried to smooth down his dreadlocks as much as possible, but this only served to harden Kráytos’s expression.

  ‘David said I have to...’

  Kráytos raised a single thick eyebrow and Nick tried again.

  ‘I mean, Rayámina said I have to go to the training field.’

  ‘Did he now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Nick waited for Kráytos to lead the way, but the soldier didn’t budge.

  ‘So...could you point me in the right direction?’

  ‘I’ll accompany you.’

  Nick sighed. ‘If you have to.’

  Kráytos cleared his throat, sounding like a revving steamroller.

  ‘Um...I mean, thank you, sir.’

  Nick followed Kráytos through the Market Square crowds and into a quiet alley. They ducked under wet washing and around families purchasing flatbread from street vendors. Nick drew out his Bandála necklace to try to blend in, but he still felt uncomfortably exposed.

  He remembered Artemis’s comment from two nights ago: You’re way more ignorant than I expected. That had stung. But she was right, and in the last few days he’d become very aware of just how much he didn’t know.

  Then something else occurred to him.

  Expected.

  He tripped over a bundle of dried reeds, causing the owner to cry out in indignation.

  Kráytos turned and barked, ‘Watch where you’re going, boy.’

  ‘Yep. Sorry. Sir.’

  Nick could barely concentrate on the path ahead. Artemis had expected him to know more. He thought about the times she’d quizzed him on the journey to Auremos, and how his answers had irritated her. How could she have known he was coming? He only came through the song gate a week ago. Did she know David had gone to get him? And did she also know that Alexander had been sent to kill him?

  The thought sent a prickle across his skin.

  ‘Who the hell is she?’ he whispered to himself in English.

  Kráytos strode through the crowded streets like a pit bull terrier staking its claim. People moved out of his way, and the few who didn’t shift fast enough were blasted with the full force of his hard, uncompromising glare.

  ‘You’ve got a reputation, sir,’ Nick said.

  ‘A result of the job,’ Kráytos replied.

  ‘Among other things.’

  Kráytos rounded on him like a swerving road train. ‘I thought you’d figured out by now that Bandála soldiers do not talk back to their superiors.’

  Nick scrambled away, startled. ‘Well, yeah, but I’m not a Bandála soldier, so technically—’

  Kráytos yanked him into an alley and pressed his back against the sooty stone wall. Nick gasped with fright.

  ‘There are a few things you need to understand, Nick.’ Kráytos’s voice had become a soft growl. ‘As long as you wear the greyskin, it’s your responsibility to behave like a Bandála recruit. You must stand to attention every time a senior soldier is present, you have to be obedient and disciplined, and you can’t challenge authority.’

  Nick gritted his teeth. Kráytos made it sound worse than school.

  ‘You might look like everyone else here,’ Kráytos continued, ‘but you’re very different. If you aren’t careful, people will notice you, and as soon as that happens they’ll begin to ask questions. Are you prepared to explain to them who you are and where you’ve been hiding for the last thirteen years?’

  Nick squirmed. ‘It was David’s choice not to tell me or anybody else the truth.’

  Kráytos’s grip became firmer. ‘Rayámina is leader of the Bandála. Are you stupid enough to blame him in front of his soldiers?’

  ‘Of course not. But I’m right, aren’t I? I mean, it’s not my fault that I don’t know the rules.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter whose fault it is, Nick. If the Bandála find out who you are, they’ll want to know whether you will join them. Are you ready to make that decision?’

  Nick shook his head.

  ‘In that case, you’ll need to learn how to be a greyskin. When we get to the training field, you watch the others and copy them. And keep your mouth shut unless you’re certain that what you say won’t raise any eyebrows. Understand?’

  Nick nodded.

  ‘Good.’ Kráytos released him. ‘Let’s go.’

  They ducked under a line of wallaby skins and around a couple of old men shouting at one another in Yándi. Kráytos dipped his head to them as he passed and they paused their argument to return the nod then went right back to their verbal slamming.

  The street ended at an oval the size of a football field. Except for the odd tree around the edges and a huge ash-filled fire pit in the centre, the entire surface was hard-packed dirt. An eight-foot stone wall punctured by arches separated the field from the houses. Bandála recruits were scattered everywhere. Some jogged the perimeter. Others sparred ba
re-handed in rings marked out with ash. Jinx was in amongst a group of about fifty younger kids, imitating the sharp moves of their instructor, who Nick recognised as Pan. Soldiers stopped what they were doing to salute to Kráytos as he passed.

  ‘Go and join Pan’s group,’ Kráytos said.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Nick replied, trying out the new salute.

  Kráytos seemed unimpressed, so Nick stepped into line without another word.

  The moves were easy to follow—simple jabs, front and side kicks, and a few combinations. As Nick fell into the rhythm of the routine, his gaze started to wander. He spotted Miles sparring against a recruit twice his size in one of the ash rings. Miles had to move fast to avoid his opponent’s fists, which were like giant shotputs. Artemis jogged with a group of older recruits, her ponytail flicking the air with every step. She looked comfortable, as if she was used to running laps in the rising summer heat.

  ‘Nick! Stop dreaming and concentrate!’ Pan hollered.

  He whipped back to face the front. Someone chuckled, and he glanced over his shoulder to find Cal in the row behind.

  ‘What are you doing in beginners?’ Nick asked.

  ‘It’s where I belong. Just like you.’

  Nick recalled their first meeting, the speed and skill with which Cal had thrown him off, and those strong fingers clamping around his throat. Seeing Cal flailing about now made Nick second-guess himself. Had that subtle danger he thought he’d seen in Cal a few days ago been real? He’d been exhausted and hungry at the time, so perhaps his mind had been playing tricks.

  He shook his head. No. He hadn’t imagined it. Cal had said he didn’t want Miles to know what he was capable of. His clumsiness was an act. Why did he need to hide his skills?

  ‘Break off!’ Pan yelled.

  ‘Awesome,’ Nick sighed, stretching out his legs, which were beginning to ache. He ambled to a water fountain in the wall, gulped several mouthfuls, and doused his dreads.

  ‘Nick! I said break off! Not break time!’

  He stared at her, water dripping from his chin onto his singlet. ‘Huh?’

  She pointed to the joggers. ‘That’s your group. Get moving.’

  ‘You can’t be serious. I’m not running laps in this heat.’