by C. Ellsworth
Mingling with the putrid scent in the air was the acrid smell of fresh dye. Lucile had worked tirelessly through the night to stitch together the gray leather outfits for her and her companions. The drab colors would help them blend in with the ashen Waste. Her pale, linen shirt—it’s sleeves cut short—hadn’t been properly broken in yet, though, and it itched a little around the neckline.
Her companions stood around her, carrying their own fresh-forged weapons, their faces apprehensive. Only occasionally did they glance at the angry red light that stretched high into the early morning sky. The townspeople had gathered in the square with them, all shifting impatiently while they waited for the mayor to speak. Addy scanned the crowd. Where were Papa and Gevin? They had to be here somewhere.
Addy stifled a yawn, her jaws creaking. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, especially after Aeric had come to their room, following a lengthy discussion with the mayor and Phineus. “The training you have all had will have to suffice,” he had told them, lines of worry plain on his chiseled features. “You’re going to the Tower. At first light.”
Addy’s heart seized in her chest. They were going today? They weren’t ready! Her companions—standing around her in a group before the Guard Captain—shifted, their faces mimicking the turmoil in Addy’s middle.
It was Ryan who spoke first, his voice calm, despite the tightness around his eyes. “Some of us have been here long enough to be prepared for this, but the others . . . how can you expect them to go out there with so little training?”
Karine shifted nervously beside Addy. She would be joining them after all, despite the conversation Addy and Ryan had overheard. The mayor wasn’t pleased, to put it lightly—according to Karine—but in the end he relented. Or perhaps Karine had simply left him no choice.
Aeric looked at each of them in turn, his brows furrowed above his penetrating gaze. There was no doubt in his eyes, only steeled determination. He had already made the hard choice, and he would do what had to be done. “I share your concerns, and they have all been voiced. The mayor has his doubts, but Phineus has reviewed the ancient texts and is confident there is no other way. Lord bless that he is right, and that you all have the strength to see this through.”
Addy blinked, back in the now. That had all been just a few short hours ago. She relaxed fingers that had been clenched into fists. She was not prepared for this! She had just learned to handle a weapon without hurting herself! How could anyone expect her to face what lay in the Waste? Sure, she had faced the skeg, but that hadn’t turned out well at all. She had nearly died! And Sorsia had paid the price to save her.
Above Addy, the sky seemed alive with thin white clouds that crawled slowly toward the red Spirelight, like fingers of smoke reaching and searching. The hairs on her neck stood on end. Everything seemed wrong somehow.
The crowd of people gathered before her stood quietly, their faces twisted with worry. Many of them were looking to Addy as if she somehow had the power to undo what had just happened. I’m no Lord of Light, people. I can’t just snap my fingers and make miracles happen.
No stage had been erected in those early hours; there hadn’t been time. So instead the mayor stepped up onto a small crate, his large girth causing the wooden box to creak and snap. He didn’t seem to notice, though, and addressed the crowd in his usual melodramatic tone. “My fellow townspeople . . .” His arms opened wide. “No doubt you are confused, even frightened, over what has happened.” A pudgy hand swept toward the Tower. “I am here to hopefully put your minds at ease.”
A low murmur rose from the crowd. Some of the people turned to argue with their neighbors, while others looked to the sky and shook their heads. How was he to put their minds at ease when a mere glance at the Spirelight made one want to vomit? A few had already.
Mayor Aldis continued. “I have consulted with our knowledgeable Master Phineus.” His hand swept again to the old, bent man behind him. “And he in turn has consulted the ancient texts.”
Glad Daughtry’s voice erupted from the crowd, “Just tell us what’s going on!” He sounded barely restrained, near to panic. Others joined in, their patience clearly fading. If answers didn’t come soon, one very large man might be hanging by his feet. Ryan shifted at her side, his hand moving an inch closer to the handle of his sword.
The mayor held up his hands and waited for calm, and when the noise finally fell to a dull clamor, he continued. “You want answers. I know that.” He turned as if to start pacing before he realized he was still standing on a very small box. “What I can tell you is . . . Phineus believes that the Tower—and quite possibly the Lord of Light himself—is warning us of an impending . . . change.” The last was said with so much reluctance that the word “disaster” rang in Addy’s ears instead. The townspeople must have thought the same thing, for they broke into angry shouts and raised shaking fists to the sky.
“This is the end!”
“We’re all going to die!”
“Lord of Light, help us!”
Holding his hands up again for calm, Mayor Aldis pleaded, “Please, people. Be calm and listen to me!”
Addy’s hand now gripped one of her daggers, and she forced it back to her side. Her stomach was a knot. At any moment that angry crowd of people could turn into something far uglier, like when the mayor had announced the change in rules for the Proving. Panic and anger could spread in a crowd as well as any windswept flame in dry grass. Her other companions all stood warily as well, their eyes darting about and hands lingering near—or already on—their own weapons.
Liah groaned. “That fat clown has lost control. If someone doesn’t do something now, blood will be spilled.”
Abruptly, Aeric was pushing his way through the guardsmen toward the mayor, his face wearing a scowl. When he came before the makeshift podium, he raised his hands and shouted, “Calm yourselves, people! Calm yourselves!” But the chaos only grew. The people were now pressing forward, threatening to topple the mayor from his perch. Aeric shouted, but the noise drowned him out. He reached into a pouch at his side and drew out the instrument—the gun—that he had used before, but before he could raise and fire it, someone knocked it out of his hands.
Addy scanned the crowd again, but Papa and Gevin were nowhere to be seen among those angry, desperate people. They may as well have been on the other side of town, and it would be better if they had been. The crowd was growing angrier by the moment, and no one—not the mayor or the Guard Captain—seemed to know how to calm them. I need to do something! Lord of Light, help me.
Ryan grabbed her arm as Addy started forward. “What are you doing?” He had to shout to be heard above the noise. “You can’t go in there. You’ll be torn to pieces!”
Indeed, it looked as if, in moments, both Aeric and Mayor Aldis would be overwhelmed. The crazed crowed would soon turn violent, just like before. “I’m going, Ryan!” Ash and rot, she better at least look like she knew what she was doing. “I have to do something. I have to do something before someone gets hurt! And I know it sounds foolish, but they might just listen if I’m the one talking.”
Ryan paused, looking into her eyes. Then he turned to the other companions. “Come on! We have to protect her.” And so they went, inch by inch, Addy surrounded by her companions as they pushed toward the place where Aeric was still shouting for calm. Guardsmen all around were drawing weapons now, and there were only seconds before blood would spill.
Addy drew within a pace of the Guard Captain, his teeth bared as he all but shoved the people pressing against him. Something appeared at her feet. The gun! She bent down, reaching, but the crowd surged forward, knocking her to the ground. The mass of people closed in. There was nowhere to go. She would be crushed!
Large hands gripped her shoulders. Traizen! He plucked her off the ground as though she was made of straw. His grip was hard, his thick fingers digging into her flesh, but it was better than being crushed to death! She twisted quickly as she rose, grabbing the gun before someo
ne’s foot fell where it had been a moment before.
Traizen’s voice called loudly into her ear, “You all right, Princess?” At her nod, his large mouth stretched into a wide grin, the big ox. That big, wonderful ox! But the crowd continued to jostle them about, threatening to topple her again at any moment.
Addy peered through the crowd. Where was the mayor? There he was. Aeric was holding people back now while the round man was being whisked away by a half dozen guardsmen. The makeshift stage sat empty. No time to waste! She leaped onto the crate and raised the gun high.
Crack, crack, crack, click, click!
Startled cries echoed in the square, and then the crowd fell silent. Addy stood with gun raised high and eyes shut tight. Her breath came in gasps. The hand that clutched the gun tingled. And if her heart pounded any harder, she’d likely crack a rib. The acrid smell of gun smoke filled her nostrils, tempting a sneeze.
She cracked her eyes open slowly, and every eye stared back at her. She lowered the gun. Now what?
Then Aeric was there in front of her, his expression a mixture of both wariness and surprise. He gingerly took the weapon from her hand.
Swallowing her heart back into place, she met all the eyes that were upon her, some frightened, some pleading, and a few still filled with crazed anger. Well, she had their attention now. Should she say something?
A voice called from the crowd. “Addy!”
Her heart skipped. “Papa?” Her chest tightened. Where was he? There were so many faces . . . There! Papa stood beaming with pride, Gevin cradled in his arms, looking so slender. She dropped off of the crate and broke into a run, the crowd parting to let her through. And when the way finally opened to where Papa stood, the tears would be held back no more.
Cheeks wet, she ran to them and pulled both into a strong embrace. Papa’s shoulder was warm against her cheek, his woolen shirt smelling of sawdust. Sobs wracked her shoulders. “I missed you! I missed you both so much!”
“We missed you too, sweetheart.” Papa’s voice wavered.
Addy drew back and wiped the tears from her eyes. The two had tears in theirs as well, but Gevin gave her perhaps the biggest grin she’d ever seen. How long had it been since he had smiled like that? More happy days were to come, though. There were! And more smiles. Certainly more smiles. She was going to rid the world of the Faege and make Gevin well again!
Gevin’s voice cracked with emotion, his lower lip trembling. “I missed you, Squeaky.”
“I missed you too, Wiggly. I missed you both dearly!”
Mayor Aldis’s voice suddenly called out over the crowd, “Thank you! Thank you all for being so patient and understanding during this trying time. Now, if you would permit me, I’d like to provide you with more details on what is to come.”
Mayor Aldis then proceeded to explain what would happen in the days ahead, how it was crucial that Addy and her companions travel to the Tower that very day. Some were startled by that proclamation, but everyone remained calm this time, if a bit shaken. At least no one was paying Addy any attention now, as she cried like a fool child. So much for staying strong.
Papa gave her a wide grin. “Your mama would be so proud of you. I am so proud of you. And Lord of Light, look at you! You’re thinner, and you look so . . . strong.”
Strong? Of course! All that training would have changed her, made her stronger and burned away the softness. It had to have been a gradual thing, though, for the hazy mirror in their room had not made it that obvious to her, from one day to the next.
Throwing her arms around him again, she whispered, “Thank you, Papa.” If only Mama were there . . . What would she think of all this?
The crowd was moving now, parting to allow Addy’s companions through.
“It’s time to go, Addy,” Ryan said when he reached her side.
“Time’s wastin’, Princess.” Traizen gave her a subdued grin. Sorsia’s death was still fresh on his mind; it was for everyone.
Gevin was still held effortlessly in Papa’s left arm, and he took Addy into his right, drawing her close. His heart was beating so fast! “Be safe, sweetheart.” His voice was a plea. “Take no—” His voice caught in his throat.
Addy nestled into his chest, her own throat tightening. How she had missed him! And now she had to leave again.
Papa’s voice quivered, “Take no chances out there, Addy. Please! Stay close to your companions, stay clear of animals—large and small—and, please, please watch out for skeg. They’ll be watching for you, especially now.”
“I’ll be careful, Papa.” She barely got the words out without drawing more tears. Then she drew back and gave Gevin a stern look. “You watch over Papa, Wiggly.” Her voice was tight, just above a whisper. “And remind him to eat. You know how forgetful he is when he’s busy.”
A tear rolled down Gevin’s cheek, his little, gaunt face wrinkling in sorrow. Then he began to cry. “I don’t want you to go, Addy.” His little voice rasped. “I don’t want you to die! Please don’t die, Addy!”
Addy’s heart clenched, tears spilling from her eyes again. “Oh, Gevin!” She threw her arms around him, and gave him a firm squeeze. “I’m not going to die! I’ll be very careful.” She drew back and nodded toward her companions. “My friends are going with me, and they won’t let anything bad happen. I promise!”
Traizen took a step forward—the handle of his massive hammer sticking up above his shoulder—and slammed a fist twice against his muscled chest. Then he flexed both arms and let out a soft growl in mock ferocity. And when he was done with that display, he gave Gevin a cocky grin and jabbed a large finger toward Addy. “Your sister is safe with me, little man.”
Gevin turned his teary eyes from the big, hairy lump of a man and gave her an affirmative nod. “Okay, Squeaky.” He cleared his throat and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Be safe. And hurry back!”
“I will, Gevin. I will.”
Chapter 22
The town’s gates—standing at thrice the height of a man—creaked open, its hinges screeching so loudly that Addy had to cover her ears. Two guardsmen stood atop the wall, working in unison at the large pegged wheel that opened the massive doors. They swung outward, revealing a land both foreign and familiar. It looked no different than, say, the area surrounding the pond—grassy and dotted with the occasional oak—but it was still new. Very few had seen it first-hand, save those who patrolled the wall, or made the treacherous journey out to the quarry.
Addy shared a glance with her companions. The day had finally come.
When the wide gates had opened to their fullest, Aeric came to stand before them. “Your training is not yet done.” His voice carried a hint of frustration. “You’ve had only the briefest instruction on the things you might encounter out there: the beasts, the ravenous plants, sinking sands. Many pitfalls, too numerous to count. Traizen’s experiences might be of some help, but even he, with his two journeys before, hasn’t seen half of those dangers. So my last instruction— my last lesson—is this: do not take foolish chances. Always, always be on your guard. Don’t try to be heroes. You are already heroes in the eyes of the people. And in my eyes.”
The Guard Captain stopped before Addy, looking down on her intently as though his gaze would drill his point home in her mind. But when he spoke, it was for them all. “You have your water and your rations. Consume only that. What food or water you might come across in the Twisted Lands—no matter how tempting—should never go in your belly. Some of it will kill you faster than a canth, or worse.”
Worse? What could be worse than death?
Aeric paused for a moment, looking to each one of the companions with an expression that seemed both proud and hopeful. Then he motioned them toward the gate. “Good luck to you all, and Lord watch over you.”
The five companions started forward, toward the land beyond the wall. As Addy passed the Guard Captain, however, he stopped her with a gentle hand and waited for the others to get out of earshot. “Before you go .
. .” His voice was softer now. “I need you to know something. Your mama—”
Addy shook her head. “That isn’t necessary, Guard Captain. I know—”
“Just listen.” He spoke with a hesitation that set put an uneasy pit in her stomach. Aeric was never hesitant. “You’ve heard the stories, but you haven’t heard the truth.”
“The truth about my mama?”
Aeric closed his eyes in an obvious attempt at patience. “I wish I had more time to talk.” He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his dark, wavy locks. “I wish I had told your papa the truth long ago.”
Addy frowned. “Why didn’t you?”
The muscles in Aeric’s jaw flexed. “Your mama . . .” A soft, frustrated growl emanated from his throat. “Your mama made me vow to tell no one.”
Addy blinked. “I don’t understand. Why would she do that?”
Aeric stared into her eyes. “She feared you, your papa, and your brother wouldn’t understand, that you would think less of her if you knew the truth.”
Addy’s stomach churned. Could there be any truth so awful that she’d think less of Mama for it?
She turned her eyes back to Aeric. “Tell me.” Her heart thumped heavily. “I want to know.”
Relief flooded Aeric’s expression before he regained his composure. “I have never broken a vow, Addy. Nor will I break one today.” He cleared his throat. “Addy . . . your mama . . . made me vow to tell no one the truth—not a soul!—until you were old enough . . . and only when you asked.”
Addy crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I have asked.” Her tone was brusque. “So tell me. Please.”
The Guard Captain eyed her for a moment more. There wasn’t a hint of relief on his lined face now, only uncerFaegey. He dropped his gaze and shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other. “I don’t claim to know all that happened in the Tower. What I saw was . . .” He trailed off, brows drawing down. Then his eyes rose and found hers again. “Your mama completed the Affirmation, and we were about to leave, to join the others outside to face the skeg, but she stopped suddenly . . . and then she began to mutter strangely to herself, as if talking with someone that wasn’t there.”
