The Severed Tower

by J. Barton Mitchell

  “Smoke!” a voice yelled. A girl’s voice, commanding and forceful.

  A hissing, as three metallic cylinders hit the ground, rolling toward the Assembly walkers. As they did, they sprayed out clouds of colored smoke that quickly flooded the large building.

  The walkers trumpeted in alarm. Zoey felt their sudden trepidation.

  They couldn’t see now, they were blind. Instinctively, they started firing erratically, spraying yellow bolts of heated death that sparked all around Holt and Zoey—on the walls, the floor and the rafters above. Zoey screamed as two bolts burned past their heads.

  “Hurry, kiddo,” Holt yelled. She looked back down to the knife. The thing had so many pieces, she wasn’t sure which one to open. She looked at Holt desperately. “The blade! The big blade!”

  Plasma fire streaked everywhere, lighting the smoke like yellow lightning while shotgun blasts shook the building. They were running out of time.

  Zoey began to pry the knife open … and then stopped as the sensations overtook her.

  They were weaker, farther away, but she recognized them. It was the Royal.

  Scion. We return.

  In the distance, Zoey heard the electronic cries of the missing Hunters. The explosion was a trick to draw them away, while these kids attacked through that strange gateway. It hadn’t fooled them long. The Royal was on its way back, rushing as fast as it could. Zoey could feel its emotions. Anger at the humans who dared attack it, shame for falling for their simple ruse, fear of the possibility of losing its prize.

  Scion. We return. There was a sense of desperation to its thoughts now, it was something she had never felt from it before. The sensations startled her. She could feel just how much she meant to it.

  “Zoey!” Holt shouted frantically. Her fingers moved for the knife again.

  More Hunters burst into the courthouse, trumpeting, plasma fire already spraying. Two more kids spun wildly and hit the floor dead.

  The Hunters advanced, joining the other two, targeting lasers lighting up the dispersing smoke. The kids, whoever they were, were in a lot of trouble, and more Hunters were on the way. Zoey could feel them. They were about to be overwhelmed.

  “Be ready!” The same female voice again. A shotgun blast lighted up the smoke, and sparks burst off the frozen semitruck barreling through the wall. The girl, whoever she was, had shot it intentionally. Zoey’s eyes widened. She knew what was coming.

  There was a flash—and then the truck and its impact roared to life.

  It blew through the wall in a violent explosion that sprayed brick and mortar and fire everywhere, ramming into the batch of new walkers, slamming them into the floor and burying them as it exploded past and crashed to a stop.

  “Damn!” Holt exclaimed in shock, eyes wide.

  Three kids rushed through the smoke toward them. As they did, they shouldered their shotguns, and Zoey screamed as they grabbed her and started pulling her away.

  “Zoey!” Holt yelled behind her, struggling frantically against his bonds.

  Zoey screamed again as they dragged her into the smoke. At the same time, she instinctively projected her terror outward. The Royal responded instantly.

  Scion! We return!

  The gateway of light lit the smoke in dreamlike patterns as she reached it. It was pure white energy, and if there was something on the other side of it, Zoey couldn’t tell. She struggled against her captors, trying to break free, but they were much older, and they were too strong.

  You are of us, another ferocious projection from the Royal. We will find you.

  Zoey wasn’t sure if she found the thoughts alarming … or comforting. Then her mind and vision filled with the color red as she was dragged into the gateway.

  18. REUNIONS

  HOLT WATCHED AS THEY DRAGGED ZOEY into the smoke. More kids appeared from the haze. A plasma bolt slapped into one and flung him to the ground. He didn’t get up.

  The remaining kids grabbed Holt, started pulling him away, too.

  “Who the hell are—” Holt started.

  “Shut up, goon,” one of the smoky shadows said. “Lost three of my friends getting you out of here. You better be worth it.”

  Worth it? To whom?

  They dragged him by his feet through the smoke. It was all surreal and dreamlike—sizzling plasma bolts flying through the air, flashes of gunfire. Ahead, the bright white circle was coming closer. The kids were retreating back through it, and Holt was pretty sure now that this entire thing had been arranged to rescue him and Zoey. But why?

  The kids dragged Holt through the strange gateway, and as they did he was blinded by the color red. It wasn’t a light or anything specific, the color red simply flooded his senses in a jarring, violent blast, and he felt a rush of intense cold from head to foot.

  It only lasted a second. The red vanished, so did the cold. He could see again.

  The afternoon sun shown down on him. Hundreds of strange, light brown reeds brushed against his skin and tore at his clothes as he was dragged through them. Wheat stalks, Holt realized. He was out in the open, away from the ruined city, in some overgrown field, who knew how far away.

  Behind him, the remainder of the kids were jumping through the gateway. Some of them were helping their injured fellows pass back over. The last of them made it just as one of the green-and-orange tripods lunged through after them, its plasma cannons spinning and firing.

  “Shut the gate!” a girl’s commanding voice shouted. “Blow the artifact if you have to!”

  Two shotgun blasts rang out, and Holt saw the dark object underneath the portal explode in a shower of sparks. The white circle hovering in the air died and vanished, cutting off the path back to the courthouse.

  But they weren’t out of the woods yet. The lone walker whirled around, firing sporadically at whoever was closest. Another boy fell to the ground.

  There were dozens of kids Holt could see, all around the walker. They raised their shotguns and fired as one, pumping new shells into chambers, firing again, over and over. The sound was deafening, even in the open air of the wheat field.

  The walker trumpeted wildly, shuddering from each blast, sparks spraying off it in pulsing flashes, from one blast after another. Fire shot from its exhaust ports. There was a great whine as its internal mechanics failed, and the thing collapsed in a heap. It spasmed once, twice, then went still.

  Everyone covered their eyes, they knew what was coming.

  Brilliant golden, wavering energy flooded up and out of the destroyed walker, blindingly bright, even in the afternoon sun. As it floated up into the sky, it formed into a complicated crystalline shape. Holt’s mind filled with intense static, so powerful and consuming it blotted everything else out. By the way some of the kids dropped to their knees, he could tell it was having the same effect on them.

  The mass of pulsing light rose into the air, higher and higher, moving westward, until it finally faded away. And when it disappeared, so did the static.

  Holt took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Still bound and lying on his back, he could see very little except the tops of the reeds as they wavered in the breeze. But he could hear the kids all around him, congratulating themselves, reciting stories of the mission and laughing. There were also moans of pain and hurried calls for help.

  “Holt!” he heard Zoey shout from somewhere. The wheat parted as she ran to him and kneeled down, her eyes full of fear. “Holt, they took your knife.”

  “It’s okay,” he smiled. “We’ll get it back. Did they say who—”

  The sound of barking cut him off, loud and exuberant. A dog exploded through the reeds, leaped onto Holt’s chest, and started licking his face with unlimited enthusiasm.

  With shock, Holt realized he knew the mutt.

  “The Max!” Zoey shouted, her fear vanishing. Max leaped for her next, and she petted and scratched him and laughed. Holt stared at the dog in astonishment. Everything seemed unreal. How could Max be here? Holt had left him behind at the C
rossroads. But there he was, jumping all over Zoey.

  A realization came to him then. If the dog was here, did that also mean…?

  Someone else pushed into view. When Holt saw her, everything suddenly made sense. At least on the surface. He could add the pieces together and see what they pointed to—but it still felt like a dream.

  Mira stood above Holt, staring down at him amid the blowing, golden stalks. Her red hair hung loose just past her neck, gently brushing her collar bones. Her eyes were clear and green. She was disheveled, dirty, and clearly exhausted, but to him, right then, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. In spite of the odds of finding him, in spite of all the reasons she had to do otherwise—she had come for him.

  Mira smiled at him. It wasn’t as warm as it had once been. She was conflicted, unsure. He didn’t blame her. Things had changed between them, but still … she was smiling. And that was something.

  “Goodness. Gracious. Sakes alive,” an alarmingly familiar voice said from somewhere nearby. Holt knew that voice. His thoughts worked themselves back together. He placed the voice to a face, and that face to memories—and his blood ran cold.

  “And I thought this Solid was going to be a complete waste of time,” the voice continued. The other kids began to emerge, pushing through the tall stalks of wheat that surrounded them. Holt could see the colorful tattoos on their wrists, similar to the half-finished one on his. They glared down at him evilly.

  They were Menagerie, and he was in very big trouble.

  A final figure pushed into view. A girl with long, black hair trailing down her back, and a dark bird on her right wrist. Her perfectly clear eyes held Holt’s as she took in the sight of him. Ravan was as beautiful and cold as he remembered, and the sight of her stirred a combination of feelings, not all of them unpleasant. The look between them spoke volumes.

  “Holt Hawkins,” Ravan said with fervor. “As I live and breathe.”

  To his right, Mira looked back and forth between Holt and Ravan, and he didn’t have to look at her to see her bewilderment. He could guess what happened. She went to the only people she could for help—not knowing they were the very ones who were looking for him.

  “Holt, I didn’t…” Mira started, then faded off, confused.

  Zoey seemed to sense something was wrong, moved back toward Holt, but the pirates grabbed her. She screamed as they lifted her into the air.

  “Zoey!” Mira shouted and moved for the little girl. One of the pirates grabbed her and yanked her off her feet. Mira kicked and clawed, tried to get loose—until someone put a gun to her head. It drove the point home.

  Max barked and lunged. The kids kicked him away, knocked him down. It took three of them to pin and hold the squirming, violent, growling dog. The Menagerie pirates laughed. The haze of the previous battle had faded, and they could sense blood in the water now. Their violent, malicious sides were reappearing.

  Slowly, Ravan knelt down and reached for Holt. He tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. She brushed a few stray hairs out of his eyes. The gesture wasn’t just tender, it was familiar.

  To his right, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mira watching.

  “It may not seem like it right now.” Ravan leaned in close, whispering softly. “But you’re lucky it was me who found you.”

  Holt didn’t answer. Their stare lasted a moment longer, then Ravan looked back to her men.

  “Leave him tied and bring him with us,” she ordered. “Take the others, too. We’ll figure out what they’re worth at Polestar.” Ravan stood up and looked at Mira, who stared back with fury. “What? We honored the Solid, we rescued your friends. Not my fault you didn’t stipulate anything about us letting them go once we did.”

  Mira’s stare was venomous.

  She tried to break free with renewed effort, almost managed to do it, struggling to get to Ravan. Two more kids joined the others, subdued her, carried her off kicking and fighting. Holt wasn’t sure what had transpired between the two, but he could tell there was already a lot of history.

  “Holt!” Zoey screamed in anguish as she was pulled away, too. Max howled after her.

  But there was nothing Holt could do.

  Two Menagerie pirates stood over him, smiling wickedly. Then a shotgun butt slammed down onto his head and everything went black.

  * * *

  AVRIL STOOD AT THE crest of a rocky hill, staring down at the valley below. The Menagerie were there, grouped in what remained of an old wheat field. They’d taken the Freebooter prisoner, as well as another boy who seemed injured, and there was the girl as well, the small one.

  The one Gideon had sent her to find.

  Avril watched as they started marching in a column to the east, through the wheat, leaving a trail behind them, flattening it all as they moved. It was just like them. The Menagerie wilted everything they touched and never looked back.

  She felt anger begin to rise as she remembered the black-haired girl and what she’d said. Avril wanted to believe it was a lie, but she knew it wasn’t. The girl had used her name. She knew. The artifact they were carrying in that crate was just the right size. She could guess what it all meant—but even so, she just couldn’t believe Gideon would do this to her.

  Then again, in his own way he’d told her, hadn’t he? One task you will like. And one you will not.

  The wind picked up again, blowing from the north, and she casually tied her hair behind her head. It was warm air, and the hair on her arms stood up as it swept over her. The land was changing and it had everything to do with that little girl down there. Even from this distance, Avril could tell the Pattern joined with her just like it would with any Anomaly. It meant Gideon was right. She was the one they had waited for, as hard as it was to believe.

  “You feel it, too?” someone asked next to her. His name was Dane, tall and handsome, with wavy hair and lithe muscles, and he balanced his Lancet on his shoulders, arms hanging from either end. She could feel his closeness, and she liked it. She’d gotten used to it in a way she never believed she could.

  Avril nodded. “From the north, coming hard.”

  “Ion Storms in the second ring. It doesn’t feel real,” he mused in disbelief. She felt his eyes on her. “The one below, the one who knew your name. You know why she’s here.”

  “Yes.”

  “I won’t let them have you,” Dane said with conviction. She turned and looked into his eyes—and saw the passion there. “I won’t.”

  Avril felt warmth spread through her. He would fight and die for her, she knew. Not because she was his Doyen, but because of who they were to each other when they were alone. Dane was the only person she’d ever let see her weaker side, the side that was vulnerable, and she wished she could curl up in his arms right then, but she couldn’t. The rest of her Arc was behind them, waiting, watching. She had to be strong; they had to see her as fearless.

  “Sometimes we don’t have the choices we hope we will,” she replied.

  “Why not just kill them?” one of the others asked before Dane could reply. “Why not just kill the Menagerie and take the little girl and be gone?”

  “Know thyself, know thine enemy,” Avril simply said. “Right now, the Menagerie and the Freebooter are unknowns. We need to find shelter. We can pick up their trail after the storm.”

  “Assuming there’s anything left to follow,” Dane said.

  “There will be. I doubt it’s the Tower’s will for the Prime to die here.” Avril turned and lowered the black goggles over her eyes, cutting off her sense of sight. She concentrated in the way she’d been taught, felt the Charge all around her, followed it until she could see the Pattern of the land in her mind, the Anomalies that pulsed and moved all through the distance.

  Then she and the rest of the White Helix leaped into the air in flashes of yellow and purple light.

  19. RIFTS

  MIRA AND ZOEY WALKED AT THE HEAD of the line, down an old, narrow country road, flanked on both
sides by endlessly stretching fields of wheat and rotted cornstalks. Holt was unconscious, near the middle, carried next to the mysterious crate the Menagerie had been lugging.

  Max refused to walk anywhere but underneath him, growling menacingly at the pirates if they got too close. Though they outnumbered the dog, none of them wanted to be the first to challenge him. Mira didn’t blame them.

  Mira had kept the group moving northeast, hoping to come across one of the landmarks that pointed the path to Polestar. It would be much safer, from then on.

  Theoretically.

  Her ability to get the Menagerie through the Strange Lands was, at this point, probably the one thing keeping her alive, and she felt Ravan’s glare on her back constantly now.

  They were still traversing the uncharted areas, and near as she could tell, they’d entered the second ring about fifteen miles back. It had been a casual affair, she hadn’t even mentioned it to Ravan. In fact, it was the easiest ring crossing she’d ever done, but that was because of where they were.

  The Western Vacuum.

  There were only three Vacuums in all the Strange Lands, zones devoid of Stable Anomalies. For whatever reason, they couldn’t take hold there. It didn’t mean Mira and the Menagerie were completely safe, there were still Unstable Anomalies to worry about, but most of those were visible.

  Then again, the Strange Lands were different now. She hoped what Echo had said about the Stable Anomalies not moving proved right.

  Echo …

  The thought of him brought a mix of feelings, most of them sad or guilty. He’d sacrificed everything to get them into the Strange Lands, and she hadn’t thought about him once since the Crossroads. There just hadn’t been enough time, but that was her reality right now. It seemed like it had been for a long time.

  “It’s getting darker,” Zoey said, next to her. “And it shouldn’t be, should it?”

  Mira looked down at the little girl. It was one of the few times she’d spoken since they’d found her. Mira wasn’t sure what had happened while she was a captive, but it had had an effect. Mira didn’t push her. Zoey would tell her when she was ready.