Blood, Ink & Fire

by Ashley Mansour

  I hear activity downstairs. The clang of pots, pans, and dishes in the kitchen. Outside, Hale’s voice carries above the sound of an engine. I lean out the window and peer down at the top of the RV. Ledger is behind the wheel, testing brakes and lights, backing the vehicle toward the alley. Hale stands, giving instructions. At the front door, bags sit ready to be loaded into the RV.

  “Good morning.”

  I turn, bashing my head on the window. Miriam takes one look at me and the sleeping bag. “Rough night, dear?”

  I close my eyes, receiving a flash of the strange night I had before. “You could say that.”

  “Well, we tried to let you sleep, but I’m afraid you have to get a move on now. It’s nearly seven, and you need to be on the road soon.”

  “Thanks,” I say, rubbing the sore spot of my head. “I’ll get ready.”

  In the shared bathroom, I take no time at all bathing, bandaging the cut on my foot, and brushing my teeth, before working out some deal with my hair to look normal for the next eight hours. It’s a negotiation with Ginny’s brush and a clip I found on the floor of the spare bedroom. I twist my hair into a rough side braid, then snap in the clip to hold it in place. I try to ignore the darkness under my eyes.

  I take a spare shirt from Ginny’s shelf. The shade hits me. Blue. Valer blue. I think of our pod, our street. A stab in my gut reminds me of the life I used to know inside the bioslice. My parents died inside that world. Their lives were taken, stolen. Is there anything Fell has not taken from me? I land on the floor of the bathroom, my entire body shaking. My stomach gives way, and I turn and heave into the toilet. I feel empty and strange. I climb up, fill the sink with cool water, then plunge my face into it. Someone knocks on the door.

  “Honey? You okay in there?” It’s Ginny.

  “I’m fine, I’ll be out in a sec. Sorry I’m taking so long.”

  I can tell Ginny is still at the door. “Noelle? Do you want to let me in?”

  I dry my face and smooth back my hair, then unlock the door. Ginny looks sad when she sees me. She closes the door behind her. “Honey, I’m sorry, I haven’t been much help lately. With . . . everything.” She rubs her hands over her belly. “It’s a girl, you know,” she says. “I’ve always wanted a little girl. We’ve tried and tried, and for a long time, I thought it might be too late.” Her eyes fill with happy tears.

  Inside Ginny is a new, fresh life. I realize when I see her now that this baby is the only thing keeping her going. “Ginny, I’m so happy for you,” I tell her. But then I wonder: What kind of world will this baby be born into?

  “I’m sorry you have to leave us,” she says. “I really am. But you know it isn’t safe here for anyone if you stay.”

  “We’ll come back,” I say hopefully.

  Then, for some reason I don’t understand, Ginny starts to cry. I grab a tissue and blot her freckled cheeks. “Please don’t cry. I know you’re hurting. We all miss John.”

  “Yes,” she sniffs. “I cannot imagine a world without him. But that’s not why I’m crying.”

  Something inside my stomach drops. I hope I’m not going to be sick again. “What is it?”

  “There’s something you need to know before you leave. Something Miriam and your grandfather don’t want you to know.”

  “What is it?” I ask, my voice sounding faint.

  Ginny dabs her face and lifts her eyes to me. “You know there are nine Sovereigns, don’t you?”

  The facts of life outside of Fell had never really been made plain to me. “Nine Sovereigns,” I repeat. “Okay.”

  “Nine Sovereigns. Nine Risers. One of them was our leader. The volume you saved, Volume I, belonged to our people. Prospero brought it here.”

  “What are you trying to tell me, Ginny?”

  “Nine Sovereigns. Nine Risers . . . ,” she repeats.

  “Nine volumes . . .” I add, stunned. “There’s more than just one?”

  “That’s right,” Ginny says. “One volume on its own is dangerous enough, but nine? All nine together are deadly.”

  “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t they tell me?”

  “They’re trying to keep you safe,” Ginny whispers. “They figure the less you know, the better. If Fell finds out about them, they don’t want you to be complicit.”

  “So why bother telling me? Why take the chance?”

  Ginny’s eyes flicker. “Because I have to. If you are a reader and you can do the thing none of us can, then you need to know. So you have the best possible chance out there.”

  “Chance at what?” I ask her.

  “Surviving.”

  She cups her quivering hand to my cheek. “Oh,” she says. “I thought you’d understand. The volumes have to be reunited. All nine of them together.”

  “But you said they were deadly?”

  “Not to us, hon.” She gazes at me, willing me to guess her meaning.

  “To Fell.”

  Ginny nods uneasily. She bites her lower lip. Tears form and land on her cheeks. “You have seen what they can do now that Verity has been breached. They took John. For some small and petty reason they murdered him. They will take everything. Nothing can make them stop, nothing can slow them down.”

  Ginny wipes her cheeks. She takes both my hands in hers. “Listen, Miriam is very wise, but her stories are from long ago. The fact is I don’t know if they are real, if fragments of the Rising are still out there. It is difficult to believe in something you cannot see for yourself.”

  “Then why do you?”

  “Because I have to, Noelle. My baby deserves a world where we have a chance to live as people. Real. Free. Fully alive. I can’t face bringing another child into a world where we don’t.”

  “The volumes were kept apart for a reason,” I say. “How do I know that uniting them won’t lead to something worse?”

  “Oh, it will most certainly lead to something worse,” Ginny says. “There is always darkness before there is light.”

  A fresh wave of fear hovers over me. I can’t place the feeling that this conversation shouldn’t be happening, that I’m about to know something that will alter my path forever. And still the question is bubbling over my lips. I have to know. I have to ask her . . . “Ginny, what’s inside these books? What makes them so dangerous?”

  Ginny grips my hands. She leans to my ear. “Secrets,” she whispers. “Secrets Fell would love to know.”

  “Miriam said that,” I mutter. “But what does it mean? What are the secrets?”

  Ginny smirks and grins at me. “Well, if Miriam is right, if what she says is true, there’s only one person who knows that. And I’m afraid that person is deceased.”

  “Prospero.”

  “Right. The volumes were left to the Risers for a reason. So whatever they contained could be protected throughout time, until the one who remembers the written word arrives, according to Prospero’s last dream, so the story goes.”

  “And you think I am that person?”

  “Yes. Miriam does, too.”

  “What if it’s just a story? What if none of it is true?”

  “We need to find out.” Ginny grips me by the shoulders. “Look at me. A Winnower, just one generation on from the founders, and yet even I don’t know how to read, Noelle. The secrets of our past have been lost. We need the nine volumes back. To help us remember. To help people remember. To make them believe in the books again.”

  “That’s a lot of power to place in a bunch of pages and ink,” I say. “How can you be sure the books alone are enough?”

  Ginny pauses for a moment and stares at me. “Have you ever read a book? I mean a real book with a story?”

  I feel the shame of my creed seeping through. No Valer has ever read a book. “No,” I say quietly. “I haven’t.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ginny says, reaching for my hand. “I haven’t either. But Miriam has described it for me in a way that makes me believe in the power of a book. To the boolos, books were like people. The
stories inside them were real. The characters lived and breathed. Books were life. They were breath. To feel these things in the stories as keenly as if they were not just words on a page, but memories from your own life, to make you imagine things you never even dreamed of, that was the power of a book. A power we must regain.”

  Ginny’s eyes glare at me knowingly. In an instant I register what we will have to do. No wonder there are so many supplies. No wonder the tears and the good-byes. Of course, I think. If we are going to find the volumes, we will have to go to all of them. Every. Last. Sovereign.

  “So now that you understand what you must do, you should remember one thing more. They are not all like us,” she says, lowering her voice. “Not all Sovereigns are like the Winnow. We, Noelle, are the ones who cling to our past, who have tried not to forget. We are the best of them.”

  NOELLE

  FOURTEEN

  Our last breakfast is a quiet one. Everyone is anxious, on edge. Hale positions the display in front of the table. Its white face reads simply “V.” I feel the blood drain out of my face.

  Hale snickers. Ginny gives him an irritated look. He shrugs sheepishly. “What?”

  “Not funny, Hale. Not funny.”

  “It was a joke. It doesn’t stand for Verity, of course. V. For volumes?”

  Ginny and Miriam glare at him, but I smile, enjoying the irony. It’s also not a bad disguise. The program’s light looks eerily similar to Verity’s common colors. So if we ran into Fell, they probably wouldn’t suspect anything at first glance.

  “Well, don’t everyone appreciate my dark humor all at once,” Hale says, pulling in his chair.

  “You’re hilarious,” Ginny says flatly. “Now let’s get started.”

  Hale enlarges a map on the display. There are seven other Sovereigns besides the Winnow and Pedanta, making nine in total. We scan through them one by one, with Hale issuing instructions about each. The names are unfamiliar to me. I know them only by number.

  “You’ll start in Pedanta, as you know,” Hale says. “That’s pretty straightforward. I’ve already made preliminary contact with them, so they know you’re coming.”

  “You hacked the stream?” I blurt out, astounded.

  Hale blinks rapidly as though trying to think of how to best communicate his technical feat. “Sort of. More like sent an encrypted message through Pedanta’s protocols. It’s written in their own coding language, so they’ll be able to decrypt it.”

  “What matters is they know you are coming,” Ginny says.

  “Thanks,” I say, glancing at my grandfather.

  His expression is unsurprisingly stern. “And after Pedanta?” he asks. “What next?”

  Hale scoots forward, directing us through the interactive map program. “Next it gets a little . . . tricky. You head to Ardenia. That’s in the mountains. Here. It’s mostly forest, so you’ll need to switch to the off-road tires.”

  Ledger looks up. “I can do that. Hale showed me earlier.”

  I can’t help it. I feel my blood boil when he says it. We don’t need you. We’ll be fine by ourselves.

  “So, why is it tricky?” Grandpa asks. “Do they know we’re coming?”

  Hale hesitates. “There was no signal there. I couldn’t reach them.”

  Grandpa leans back, perturbed. “This will be interesting.” I look around the table. What am I missing?

  “Moving swiftly on,” Hale says. “From Ardenia, you’ll head up north to Fort Numb and Killem. They’re both expecting you.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Grandpa says. “I wouldn’t want to show up to either of those places without a standing invitation.”

  “What’s after Killem?” I ask.

  “You’ll cross over the border and keep heading north until you’re outside old America. Technically it’s Ca-Nada. That’s where Fair Verona and Stoneleigh are. The sister cities.” Grandpa’s eyes dart around the table.

  “After Fair Verona and Stoneleigh, you’ll head back down south to Mount Memoria, and finally Fault’s End. That’s every Sovereign, one through nine. All programmed right here into this display. We’ll be able to track you everywhere except Ardenia and Mount Memoria. Neither have signals, but you should be okay. They are not the Sovereigns you need to worry about.” Hale smiles, content with his plan.

  Grandpa taps one finger on the table. “You missed a part, Hale,” he says. “The part where we skate on through undetected. Unfettered. Tell me, how’s that supposed to work?”

  Hale sighs. “You’ll have to be careful, no doubt about it. No stopping. No wrist-plates. Certainly no Verity. You’ll have my weapon for your protection, should you need it. I’m sorry I have only one to give you, but it is not really our way here in the Winnow, as you know. You may be able to get more in Killem, of course. I doubt they’ll send you off empty-handed.”

  Grandpa shakes his head. “It’s that easy, is it? What about Fell? They will be looking for us.”

  “That’s why it is crucial you avoid contact with as many outsiders as possible. The Sovereigns will be your havens.”

  “I don’t mean to state the obvious here,” I say, “but we are Valers. How do we know the Sovereigns won’t shoot us down on sight?”

  Grandpa is about to speak, then catches himself. Miriam looks back and forth between us, as if she’s itching to say something.

  “What? What is it?”

  Miriam smiles uncomfortably. “It’s not my place to say, dear.” She leans toward my grandfather. “Will, you really ought to tell her. To give her peace of mind at least.”

  “Fine,” he says. “But I will tell her in my own way.” Grandpa turns to me. “We will be safe in the Sovereigns. They will not persecute us.”

  “Tell her, William,” Miriam insists. “Tell her why.”

  “I am!” Grandpa squeezes my hand, his eyes brimming with memories. He’s a proud man, and I can tell this is difficult for him, though I don’t understand the reason. “Noelle, we will be safe because I once knew the Risers. They were my friends. And they will remember me.”

  *

  I scarcely have time to process what’s happening as we load up the RV and prepare to leave. Suddenly my tiny world bursts into a giant wave threatening to crash over me. What is my grandfather keeping from me? What’s inside that endless sea?

  I look inside the RV and see the days and weeks stretch out before me. Ledger is driving the first leg because he knows the route out of the Winnow by memory. In the very back room, we stow the supplies—water, food, spare clothes, blankets, medicines and herbal remedies from Miriam. We’re going to be gone a long time. Maybe forever.

  When we say our good-byes, I don’t cry. I have tears left inside me, but now I save them for a time I’ll need them more. I hug Miriam, Ginny, and Hale, the Winnowers who rescued us, changed us, and made us whole after we were broken. Page finds me, gives me a kiss, a final piece of warmth before I retreat inside myself to search for the last traces of my identity.

  My name is Noelle Hartley. I am seventeen years old. Until a week ago, I lived with my father, mother, and grandfather in the United Vales of Fell.

  Now, my parents are dead, and my best friend has been brutally murdered. My grandfather and I barely escaped. Fell is responsible for it all.

  Fell, the power that controls us. The power that oppresses us. The power that has forced us to forget ourselves, our books, and how to read them.

  Except some of us have not forgotten. Some of us—Miriam, my grandfather, and for reasons I don’t understand, me.

  There are eight more volumes out there that can help us. Eight more, plus the one we hold to make nine. Nine Sovereigns. Nine Risers. Nine volumes from the Rising. Miriam believes they hold a great power. One that can save us from the tyranny of the UVF. We don’t know if her stories are true, if what she tells us is right, but one thing I do know: these volumes and whatever secrets are inside them might be our only hope.

  There is so much I am unsure of. That’s why I’m
holding on to this truth. I think Ledger might be right. It’s been with me for a while. Maybe my whole life.

  I am a reader.

  I never did belong in the United Vales of Fell. My ocean is deep and getting deeper every day. Whatever is lurking beneath me in that dark sea, I’m sure I can feel it rising.

  PROSPERO

  FIFTEEN

  Autumn 2055—The Gathering of the Nine of the Rising.

  As led by Prospero. As recorded by Amanuensis.

  On the eve of the Last Conservation, the Nine of the Rising gather. These are the words of Prospero, our illustrious leader.

  *

  Fellow Risers, lend me your ears. Gather round. Our time wears thin. Our embers burn low.

  On the eve of this, our last conservation, let us take a moment to reflect upon our duty, to admire the incalculable task before us, to picture in our mind’s very eye our victory.

  Lady M, could you please stop texting Cordelia? I can see you both clearly. You laugh now, but tomorrow our today will be a yesterday, and your yesterdays will have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Yes, I will reference your character’s play to make a point. Thanks for turning off your device.

  As we know, life is but a brief candle. Ours has burned long and steady, but now the breath of Fell circles our flame, threatening to extinguish the last of our lights. They have caught up with our trail, and try as we might, we cannot outrun them. Our good man, Holofernes has done his best with his code. But, Risers, Fell is swift and their technology is light-footed. It is true they are upon us. Tomorrow we will face them.

  But tomorrow, tomorrow, oh tomorrow! We have been given a gift by this creeping, petty pace. Fell may have destroyed many of our friends, our beloved books and pages, but we still have one last syllable yet to be recorded. The Fates have not yet sealed our ending. What will we make of this, the final few pages of our story unwritten?

  Let us reflect.