Frelsi (Book Two of The Liminality)

by A. Sparrow

  “No worries, love,” said Bern. “Let them do their thing. I’m prepared to take my lumps.”

  One of the smaller, bipedal Reapers came bounding up the path, riderless. This one had a beak and scaly three-toed feet that make it look like some kind of dodo bird.

  The soldiers strapped me and Bern to either side of a harness and made Karla sit in the saddle with her arms lashed behind her back. Once we were loaded up, a soldier slapped the beast’s hindquarters. It hissed and snapped at him before trotting off towards the encampment.

  The camp was arranged in concentric circles of small, white tents, its structure mirroring the layout of Frelsi itself, with candidates in the inner circle, their guests surrounding. People came out to gawk at us as if we were freaks in a circus parade.

  At the far end, a soldier jogged ahead to open a gate of woven saplings. From there, an expertly cobbled road descended through a series of swales and knobs to Frelsi, whose taller spires protruded above the swell of mountainside.

  “Sorry Lille, but this is as far as you can go,” said Alec. “I’ll take them down for processing. The other Mentors will attend to your needs.”

  “Nonsense. This is my man. These people are my family. I’m coming along.”

  “I’m afraid not. You need to stay up here, outside the zone of influence. Your facilitation is imminent.”

  “I don’t care. I’m going with Bern. Wherever he goes, I go,” she said, setting her chin defiantly. She went alongside the Reaper and took hold of Bern’s arm.

  “No,” said Alec. “I cannot allow you to waste your soul. There is too much invested in you.” He turned to the soldiers. “Detain her!” Two men seized her and wrestled her back towards the camp.

  “Bern! I’ll look in on you, I promise. As soon as I get free, I’ll speak to someone with some influence.”

  ***

  The Reaper’s muscles rippled under its pebbled skin. It smelled like chicken parts that had sat too long on a counter. Swinging from the harness, none of us had much to say. Bern hummed a little ditty in time with its lurching strides. Karla sobbed softly up on the saddle.

  “Don’t worry. They can’t possibly charge you with anything,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “It is not me I am worried for, you fool! We are going back into the zone. If what you say is true … that you are dying on the other side … we will lose you to the Deeps.”

  “Dying, is he?” said Alec, walking beside us. “Such a shame. Makes our job easier, though.”

  We passed under an archway formed of two white posts and an up curved beam that made it look like a sculpture of the symbol for pi, or one of those Japanese torii gates. The word ‘HOPE,’ was carved into the cross beam.

  We turned up a more rugged side path that led to a fenced compound of structures carved from giant fungi. The soldiers unstrapped us from the Reaper and stashed us in a pen.

  We huddled in the dirt, while Alec briefed the men who ran the installation. One man ran up a tower with a set of flags and transmitted a message in semaphore code to the next tower down the lane.

  More soldiers emerged from a hut and trained their weapons on us, even though we posed not the slightest threat to resist or run. It was the usual motley array: an elegant, little blow gun with a basket of feathered flechettes that fed into a spinning chamber, a basic old double-barreled shotgun and some evil-looking, bulbous contraption that constantly emitted a curl of black smoke.

  “What now, may I ask?” said Bern as Alec came walking past.

  “You’re to be held here until a tribunal can be assembled. When they’re ready, you’ll be transported back to Frelsi for trial.”

  “How long do you expect that to take?”

  “Depends how busy they are. There’s been a rash of lawlessness of late. Ever since we started mobilizing for war, we’ve been plagued by incidents of sloth and petty thievery and desertion. The detention pens are brimming with miscreants. Hard times reveal character, it seems. But all in all, it’s for the better. Accomplishes the kind of distillation that our vetting process is left wanting.”

  “We did nothing wrong,” said Karla.

  “Perhaps. Maybe for you, my love, they will see it as a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But for your friends Bernard and James, here, I think there are cases to be made for treason.”

  “Nonsense. The boy’s not even marked. He’s taken no vow. He’s not committed to you people.”

  “He facilitated the escape of a prisoner and compromised our intelligence gathering.”

  “No one was ever going to interrogate her,” I said. “She was in a heap, ready to be fed to the Reapers.”

  “But how was that any of your business?”

  “She’s human. And so are those … Old Ones … that you dig up. They don’t deserve to be treated like meat.”

  “Human!” said Alec, in a mocking tone.

  “What will they do to us?” said Karla.

  “For you? No worries, my dear. Fraternizing with a known offender will usually cost you a working probation. A few extra duties. A larger production quota.”

  “In other words, indentured servitude,” said Bern.

  “Now Bernard, your offense is a bit more serious. You knew full well that the authorities had a warrant out for James and yet you willfully deceived me. That might not suffice to brand you defective, but I would be prepared to face some combination of detention and re-indoctrination. Of course, that’s just pure speculation on my part. It will be up to the tribunal to decide.”

  “And what about James?” said Karla. “What will happen to him?”

  Alec scrunched his lips. “Well, I think we have a fairly clear cut case of treason here, don’t you think? Consorting with the enemy. Interference with operations. Perhaps even spying. Grave offenses all, comparatively. He’s obviously a defective.”

  Karla seemed puzzled by the term, but I had seen those pens full of broken souls with D’s embossed on their arms, and knew exactly what it meant. It was no coincidence that they were kept close to the Reaper’s trenches. But Karla didn’t need to be told that part.

  I tried convincing myself that being gobbled down by a Reaper wasn’t as bad as it seemed. I thought back to those PBS nature shows, and how calm a peccary became while it was being eaten alive by an anaconda, or the peaceful surrender of a gazelle in the jaws of a leopard.

  Plenty of Dusters had probably gone that route and come out okay, including Urszula. But the truth was, reprocessing my soul through the maw of a Reaper terrified the wits out of me.

  “I have to say, I am so very disappointed in you all,” said Alec. “After all of your striving, to piss away such a golden opportunity.”

  “Well now, even you have to admit,” said Bern. “This place turned out to be a bit less idyllic than we all imagined.”

  “On the contrary. It has the potential to become whatever we dream—our own little corner of Heaven. But you realize, there’s a war going on. Compromises are necessary to keep us all secure. Rest assured, we’re all working to make something special out of this place.”

  Bern sighed. “I don’t know. I almost think we were better off in the tunnels.”

  Karla was being awful quiet. She lay on her side, staring into space. Our gazes locked, and I saw the doom in her eyes. I tried to reach out and comfort her, forgetting that my arms were glued to my sides.

  “If something happens,” I whispered. “I’ll find a way back. I promise. Go back to that pond in the hollow. Remember, from that other night? Under the weeping willow? That’ll be our meeting place.”

  She nodded and tried to smile but couldn’t hide the emptiness.

  A bee buzzed over the stockade wall and hovered. One of the soldiers raised his shotgun and let loose a blast, but the bee had already ducked below the fence line.

  Alec stood with his hands on his hips, looking annoyed. “That makes three today. Why are they so interested in tracking you? Because you took pit
y and helped one of their own? Doubtful. I’m sure the tribunal will find this all very fascinating.”

  Shouts and screams carried down from the glacier. The soldiers looked at each other nervously

  “What in bloody hell?” said Alec.

  A dragonfly hovered high overhead, etching a wispy trail through the sky.

  “Contrails? From a bug?” said Bern.

  The wisp wafted down and expanded into a billowing cloud of dust.

  Rattles and buzzes filled the air. A mantis appeared through the mist and landed high on the moraine wall.

  Guards rushed into the compound and slammed the gate.

  “How did they get here unobserved?” said Alec. His staff transformed in his grasp, lengthening, strengthening, extruding a curved, saw-toothed blade of the sort one might use to trim tree branches.

  “Up the ravine,” said one of the breathless guards.

  Another mantis flew into view and then hovered back into the dust cloud. A whirling bolus of energy came winging down and blew the corner of the stockade into powder.

  I took advantage of the distraction to roll closer to Karla. She nestled her face against mine.

  “Did you arrange for this?” she said, panting. “Did you know this was coming?”

  “What? No! How could I?”

  Her eyes flicked back and forth, studying my face. A shallow smile crept over her lips. “Roll back to back,” she said. “Let’s see if we can undo each other’s lashings.”

  Our fingers touched behind our backs. Karla’s binds were too intelligent to allow themselves to be tampered with. They eluded me, rolling up and down her wrists. When I got my finger jammed underneath one, they forced it back out.

  “Yours are way too tough for me,” said Karla. “I can’t even scratch them.”

  I rolled back around to face her. “I just wish I could hold you.”

  She just ducked her brow and rested it against my chest. “I love you, James. I’m so sorry about this.”

  “Sorry for what? None of this is your fault.”

  “For being so stubborn. For making you go to Brynmawr … alone.”

  The soldiers slid a curved panel that fronted one of the huts and wheeled out a pair of harpoon launchers, anchoring the coiled, translucent tethers with trapezoidal wedges tucked into cracks in the stone. They pulled on helmets and fitted shields to the launchers’ frames.

  “Harpoons ready,” called one of the soldiers.

  The dust cloud settled over the compound, obscuring our view of the sky.

  An officer—and from the broken circle on his armor, a free soul—went up into the tower.

  “Two mantids, down slope at six o’clock! They’re coming into range. Fire when you see them!”

  The dust cloud condensed, blotting out the view, particles behaving like a swarm of gnats, resisting and compensating for the wind, arranging themselves into a dome, twenty feet over our heads.

  The blurred outline of a mantis flashed into view. A harpoon rocketed away from one of the launchers as another whirling bolus of plasma came hurtling down and struck its shield, shattering it, before deflecting to the ground. A fount of grit and clay scattered over everything as the residual plasma gouged a crater into the ground.

  The harpoon bent it’s trajectory to chase after to chase after the mantid, but was ultimately yanked back at the limits of its tether. The crew manning the launcher was already reeling it back in and refilling a chamber alongside the barrel from a calabash of steaming liquid.

  Taking advantage of the commotion, I worked on unwinding the strands strangling Karla’s wrists, and they were responding bit by bit, the ends curling. But every time I cringed at a sudden movement or was startled by a loud noise, they rallied and regained their grip.

  “James! Don’t bother. I’m about to fade. I can feel it coming.”

  “Really? Are you sure? I don’t see any signs of it.”

  “Believe me. I know how a fade feels by now.” Her eyes were glued to mine and gaping. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. This is good. Perfect timing, actually. You’ll avoid the tribunal.”

  “But I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you. What if I never see you again?”

  “Of course you will. You’ll be back. And I’ll be here. I’ll find you. Preferably not in Frelsi. If you do reappear here. Don’t hesitate. Run away! And remember … that pond.”

  “James. We will be at the church by morning. You need to do your best to hang on.”

  “It’s out of my control,” I said. “I can’t promise you anything.”

  “We will find you. Bring you to a hospital.”

  Reinforcements arrived on a dead run from the camp. With a sound like a cork popping out of a Brobdingnagian champagne bottle, the second harpoon shot out into the billowing dust, quickly followed by two more bursts from shoulder held weapons fired from outside the compound.

  An unlucky mantid came swooping down at exactly the wrong moment and one of the smaller harpoons ripped into its abdomen with the sound of a hatchet striking a hollow tree. The recoil of the flexible tether jerked the rider off his saddle and he crashed into the heather. The mantid managed a controlled but rough landing on the stony slope and defended its rider as he lay crumpled, continuing to do battle with its spiked forelegs, deflecting projectiles and lances.

  The other mantid hovered into view. Its rider disgorged a diffuse spray of energy that fractured into shreds. One stray lump of plasmic shrapnel slid against Alec’s back, eroding the armor he was in the midst of pulling on and blistering the exposed skin on the back of his neck. His staff crumbled as another bit of energy spiraled down its shaft, slicing into his hand. He howled and fell to the ground, writhing.

  Another harpoon crunched into the thorax of the fallen mantid. Two lines pulled tight. The beast teetered to one side, scraping its wing tips against the rocks. Unfazed, it gathered its rider in its forelegs and spread its wings. With a massive flap it lifted off the ground.

  One harpoon ripped out of its side and came springing back at the soldier who had fired it, forcing him to the ground. The second harpoon remained affixed to a small boulder, but the mantid was able to conjure enough lift to pull the boulder off the ground. It came swinging like a wrecking ball, smashing one of the puffball huts to bits and knocking one of the larger harpoon launchers onto its side.

  Something bulky beyond the dome of dust blotted out the sun. A leathery rattle of wing beats grew and a dragonfly burst through the dust cloud. It swooped low over the stockade and plucked me off the ground in one smooth motion, its six clawed legs forming a basket beneath my torso.

  Karla gasped as I was snatched away. She had stretched for my hand, but the binds preventing her from reaching me. We shared one final glimpse, her face now pocked and pitted with voids as she faded, the moment too brief to shape a single word of goodbye.

  We soared off through the dust cloud, pursued by harpoons and other, stranger projectiles. The dragonfly twitched one way and another to avoid their trajectories, but one small harpoon managed to slash through a wingtip.

  The barbs failed to grip, tearing through fragile membrane. The harpoon fell to the ground. The sounds of battle receded and the dome of dust dwindled as we glided off over the foothills.

  Chapter 38: The First City

  The dragonfly circled back to wait for the other raiders. Pulses emanating from the compound struck the dust dome, clotting together large patches that fell as granules, opening gaps. The motes spread to fill them, but in the process, thinned the remaining screen.

  The mantid pinned to the boulder by the many-barbed harpoon pitched and teetered, struggling to stay in the air. The swinging stone threw it off balance, but kept the Frelsians at bay as they attempted to bring it down.

  The second mantid emerged from the dust, cradling a body in its forelegs. Passing close to harpooned beast, the rider leapt onto its back. He clambered down onto the creature’s abdomen, axe in hand, and hacked away at th
e harpoon impaling it. The shaft splintered and fell away. The boulder struck a ledge and shattered like a bomb. Freed, the mantid surged away from the dust cloud, but its wings were in tatters. It settled onto the slope a short distance away, exhausted.

  The other mantid landed next to the injured one, ready to defend. But before the Frelsians could organize their attack, both took to the air. This cued the dragonfly to turn and zoom across the slopes, leading the way away from the spires and towers of Frelsi.

  Thick straps secured the saddle where they crossed beneath the dragonfly’s thorax. Heavy boots with knobby spurs were visible through the transparent shimmer of wings. “Urszula? Is that you up there?” The rush of wind muffled my words.

  Every time the dragonfly zigged or zagged or shifted altitude, I bounced in the loose basket formed by the curl of its legs. I thought for sure it would drop me, but every time it sensed a wiggle, it pulled me closer.

  The beast was having a little trouble maintaining its level. One of its wing veins was severed and the membrane attached to it had shredded. It kept rolling to the left due to the loss of lift.

  We veered towards a severe gash in the landscape, a steep-walled gorge whose walls were lush and green. A milky creek funneled through its depths, a tinted a pastel blue from the stony flour it carried from the melting glacier.

  We dipped below the precipices, descending to a wide, flat gravel bed beside the rushing creek. The dragonfly dropped me gently onto the stones and skittered around to face me, its huge eyes glittering like a jeweled mosaic, palps and labrum gnashing noisily. Why did every giant bug have to act like it wanted to eat me?

  Its rider hopped down off the saddle. I glimpsed slender but wiry calves and thighs clad in scales and webbing. Urszula ducked beneath the wings of her mount and came forward. She tossed me an unsmiling glance. Her worried eyes scanned the rim of the gorge.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  She gave no indication that she even heard me. She came over, studied my bindings and touched her scepter to them. They shriveled a bit, but quickly re-plumped and grew thicker.

  “They used the very best quality on you. They must think you are a very important or dangerous criminal.” She bit her lip and tried again. This time the strands smoked and quivered before collapsing into hollow sheaths that I kicked apart as if they were wet cardboard.