Otherborn (The Otherborn Series)

by Anna Silver

  “You were Hantu.”

  A broad grin broke across the young one’s face, like a hopeful sunrise. “You remember.”

  “Yes. Some.”

  “Then you remember why you made this choice, to join with the Other, to make the Great Sacrifice? You remember why you left your own people to come here with the others, to find the doors into that world, and hide yourself among the ones we chose? To be reborn in my world.”

  “I…” Si’dah hesitated. “I know there was a purpose. It is a terrible place, your world, Hantu. So loveless. So hopeless. I cannot understand it. There are none like you there anymore. They have lost the gifts. They have lost the dreaming.”

  “It was not always like that,” he replied. “It was here that I learned the truth about what the future held for our world, about what we would do to it. The Astral showed me so many things I did not want to see. I had to try to change it. We had to try.”

  “Have we succeeded?”

  “Not yet. But there is still a chance. You have to go back, Si’dah. You have to carry your memories to the Other, London. She alone must remind the remaining four of the pact we made together. I am out. My time was too short. I still don’t understand what happened, but I know there is a traitor among us. Someone who knows about the pact. Someone who witnessed the Great Sacrifice. They are in that world now, working against us. I am doing all I can here to identify and expose them, but I am no closer yet. It could be anyone, and so I can only proceed alone. If they get to you before I get to them, your time, like mine, will be up, and you will return here as I have, trapped, wandering. You cannot go back to your people. You cannot know the rest and comfort of the Highplane, as your mentor and mine have come to know. And we will have failed my world. We will have all made the Great Sacrifice for nothing.”

  Si’dah slumped a little under the weight of Hantu’s words. This burden felt too great for her slender shoulders to bear. Again, the winking light, a flitter of movement among the trees, caught her attention. Hantu followed her gaze just as the glimmer emerged from the trees and scampered on air, like a falling leaf dancing on the breeze, to where they sat among the stones. He smiled.

  As it drew nearer, Si’dah could see that the glimmer was not a light after all, but the flutter of light bouncing off the pale green, gossamer wings of a large, Luna Moth, which came to rest on a stone just next to Hantu, beating its wings slowly back and forth as the eye markings winked in and out at Si’dah.

  “A trick,” Si’dah said skeptically. “Of the Midplane.”

  Hantu grinned knowingly. “Not a trick, Si’dah. A message.”

  SIXTEEN

  Inoculate

  Rye sat wearily at London’s side, watching her chest rise and fall. Abigail gave her the antibiotic shot—the very last dose in the whole camp—only minutes before, but she warned it could take hours, even a couple of days, for London to start showing improvement. Now all they could do was wait.

  When London came to, Tora promised Harlan he would get the answers he sought. Then the Elder would make a decision about what to do with the Wallers. Until then, he’d withdrawn to his nylon palace to brood.

  The sleepless night had fried Rye’s nerves. Zen and Kim tried to stay, but he urged them out into the clearing for breakfast and hoped their full stomachs would force them to seek out some rest later in Harlan’s tents. The Elder had offered to put them up somewhere less crowded while London healed. Rye refused. Tora didn’t object.

  Now they were alone again in her tent. It was strange how she seemed as protective of London as he. Or was she protective of him?

  He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice how her sharp green eyes softened when they fell on him, or how her touch near the smokers that day had sent electric tingles through both of them.

  She was a pretty girl, certainly. Roughly the same age, maybe a tad older. Her figure was lithe and muscular, though not as slinking as London’s long form. Her short hair framed her square jaw, pert nose, and focused, jade gaze in clean, tawny lines. London’s coffee-colored mess did more to hide her wide, heavy-lashed eyes and pale pouty lips than frame them.

  And there was a pull with Tora, a magnetism he couldn’t deny. He had no real obligations to London. They’d shared one kiss. But it was a kiss he’d waited years to get brave enough to deliver. How many times had he walked her to school, lit her cigarette, drummed behind her on Dogma’s stage, all while pretending he needed nothing more? That he was cool being the best friend. How many times had he watched her slip away after the show with some other guy, some loser from the crowd, some Rise wannabe from their school who liked the lusty look she got while singing and the rough vibrato of her voice? How many times did he have to pretend it didn’t matter to him when it was really eating him up inside?

  Now they had finally connected. And he was losing her already.

  And here was this girl, like no one he’d ever known, in a place he’d never believed in. And she wanted him. He knew she did. But something held her back. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was the very same thing that held him back as well—loyalty…to London.

  “A Seer, huh?” he asked her. “What is that anyway?”

  Tora’s eyes darted away. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try me. I’m with the inhuman girl, remember?”

  She looked at him once more. “It means I know things. Things I shouldn’t be able to know. I sense them or get a vision. Sometimes a dream, like I did with you two. I know that’s unheard of inside the walls, dreaming. It’s unheard of among the Outroaders, as well. I thought I was the only one until…”

  “Until?”

  “Until her.” Tora gave a weak nod in London’s direction.

  “You think London’s one too? A Seer?”

  “I know she is,” Tora sighed. “Whatever she is, it Sees. Like me.”

  Rye couldn’t help it. A growing chuckle escaped his lips, and Tora’s expression of complete indignation only caused it to erupt into a full blown fit of laughter. There seemed to be a mess of irony in everything they were going through, as tragic as it all was. He found it suddenly hilarious.

  “You have no idea,” he said at last, when he’d gotten hold of himself again.

  Tora scowled. “I get it. So, I’m just some ignorant Outroader, not like your brilliant alien from the city!” She was really mad now, something he wasn’t expecting, and Rye realized his laughter hadn’t just offended her, it humiliated her.

  “No, Tora, you don’t understand.”

  “I understand. You think we’re just a bunch of hicks and freaks out here, don’t you? You have no idea what we go through, how strong we are. You think life behind the walls is hard? Try being orphaned in the Outroads. Try scrapping just to survive. Try hiding underground and running from the Tycoons and their helicopters every few months. Never being able to settle somewhere permanent, always living in a tent because you can’t stay in one place too long. Be hungry without food. Be sick without medicine. See how tough you are then! I thought you were different, but you’re just like every other Waller. You’re all in the Tycoons’ pockets and you don’t even know it.”

  “Tora, I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it…I had no idea.” Rye felt like such an ass. He got up and walked to where Tora sat, big splashy tears brimming in her unflinching eyes. He sat down next to her and placed a hand over hers. “You…you’re an orphan? You and Reginald?”

  Tora wiped away her tears with a bronze forearm, “Yeah. We all are really, except those who were born out here, like Harlan and Abigail. Most of us come from the cities. From mothers who can’t afford us without the rations because they don’t have the proper licensing. We’re all outcasts of the Breeding Bans. Where did you think we came from?”

  “I don’t know,” Rye admitted. “Never really thought about it before. I thought the whole point of the Breeding Bans was to keep babies from being born, not to just dump them outside the city walls like scrap.”

  Tora laughed now. “S
hows what you know. Typical Tycoons. Nothing they do is ever as good as it seems. Here we are, living right under your noses, and still everyone turns a blind eye. Why? Because they want to believe the Tycoons have it all under control. Because they’re lazy. They want to be fed and clothed and taken care of like little children. Well, we’re the real children of the Tycoons. We’re what their laws and regulations have produced. This is what it looks like to be a daughter of Capital City. Hungry, tired, alone. It’s a desperate life created in desperate times by desperate men. You’re a fool if you think any different.”

  Rye was quiet a while before he asked, “Your mother. She came back after you? To have Reginald?”

  “No,” Tora said. “She tried to keep me in the city for a while. Then it got too hard. She met a man from the Rise. He wanted to take care of her. Wanted a child of their own, one they could claim. One they could get a license and rations for. So we left.

  “When we found the Outroaders, she stayed for a while. A couple of weeks. Made me think we had come to live here. But she missed the city, I could tell. Missed getting her meals handed to her on a ticket instead of having to hunt them down. Missed having permanent shelter and growing fat on the lies of the presidential compound. Missed the man she’d promised to return to. This life is hard work. It wasn’t for her. She left me here and went back.”

  “And Reginald?” Rye asked, thinking of his own family who had lived a meager but relatively happy existence in Capital City, where, whether you liked it or not, most everything was provided for you, however limited. It wasn’t until he lost his mom three years ago that his happiness was shattered.

  “His momma came the same week mine left. Belly so full she could barely stand. I sat by Abby’s side the day he was born, cut the cord and everything. She didn’t make it, Reggie’s mom. She bled a lot, then infection set in. Medicine is hard to come by out here, and there wasn’t enough to fight it. She was too weak. We lost her only a couple of days after his birth. I don’t know what drew me to him. Maybe it was watching the miracle of life continue in such dismal days. Maybe it was the hole my own mother left in me when she went away. Maybe I just felt sorry for him. I was young, but I took to Reginald like he was my own almost. Kids out here grow up fast. There aren’t always enough adults around to keep watch over us. Soon as he was big enough, they gave us our own tent. He’s been my brother ever since, just as sure as if we’d been born of the same woman.”

  Rye couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be Tora. Even London’s mom managed a proper license and kept her, pit worker for a man and all. But Tora’s mother ultimately chose the life of Capital City, the love of a man from the Rise, over her. He squeezed her hand in sympathy.

  “Do they all leave? Your mothers? Your parents?”

  “No, sometimes they stay. Sometimes they choose this life in order to keep the child. It happens. Just not in our case.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Rye said. “I thought the Breeding Bans ration out pills that, you know, make it impossible for women to get pregnant. I thought it was against the law not to take the pills.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Tora scolded. “There’s no perfect protection, no way to harness and control the forces of nature as completely as the Tycoons would have us think. Things happen. Pills get lost, forgotten. Someone’s late to pick up their rations. They make some women sick, so they choose not to take them. Occasionally they just fail. There’s a million and one reasons why accidents can still happen. But there’s no room for accidents inside the city walls. If you don’t apply for the proper licensing ahead of time and show proof of marital status and assignment level, then it’s too late. No rations. The Tycoons only license the amount of children per couple that they decide can be cared for, which is rarely more than one. If you aren’t licensed, they won’t care for you. Population control at its finest.”

  “I heard that there was a way for women to…to get rid of it, if it’s unlicensed.” Rye gulped.

  “Oh sure, there’s a way. Another pill that ties the stomach in knots, horrific seizing cramps, and spits the child out in a flood of blood and tissue. Sound fun?”

  Rye shook his head emphatically.

  “Yeah, my mother didn’t think so either. Just because we’re accidents, doesn’t mean we’re not wanted. My mother wanted to keep me. And she tried harder than most. For a time. But you know how slim the rations are, especially if you don’t have a big assignment. Only chance is to scrap for extras from street sellers like the Tigerians, risk execution. Imagine dividing everything you’re given in half. Food. Water. Soap. And no diapers. No formula. No rations for the things a baby or child needs. No schooling. I’ve gotten more education out here than I ever did in my ten years inside Capital City.”

  Rye leaned his head back against the wall. He was such a fool. How did he never notice? How did he never think about these things? All along, he thought they were such rebels because they played in a band and cut class and lifted a few things to scrap. But they took their rations just like everyone else. They were really no different. If it hadn’t been for Avery’s disappearance, they would never have left the city, never even thought about it.

  He looked at London on the cot. She was of age. How long had she been taking the pills? Had they ever made her sick? She must have been off of them for days out here. Since they left. She never even mentioned it. What if their kiss had led to more? He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t imagined it, fantasized about her soft lips and long legs all over him. What if he’d gotten her pregnant? Would she even have told him? Or would she have been in line the next day, taking the bad pill like a good little city girl?

  “When did it happen?” Rye looked at Tora. “Your Sight? You spent the first ten years of your life inside the walls.”

  Tora smiled. “The first night we came here, I had a dream. Remember I said I knew my mother missed the city? Well, I dreamt I saw her in a fancy white loft in the Rise. She was radiant, smiling. She was happy. All the hardships of our life together had been washed away. And he was there, her new man, his arms around her, his face filled with pride. She was holding something. At first, I thought it was just a blanket. Then I realized. It was a baby. A boy. I woke up in the dark and she was still sleeping next to me, but I knew right then. She wouldn’t stay. She’d never meant to. She would leave me and go back. But she would be happy and safe and loved. I couldn’t take that from her. So I played along.”

  “I can’t imagine how painful that must have been. You were only ten?”

  “Yeah. The morning my momma left, I heard her going. I pretended to be asleep. I got up and followed her for a short ways, just to the edge of camp. She never even looked back. I don’t think she could bear to face what she was doing, leaving me behind.”

  “You have a brother then. In Capital City.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah. I see him every once in a while. In dreams or visions. He’s younger than Reginald. About five I think. I guess that’s another reason Reggie means so much to me. I knew I’d never get to see my real brother, never get to be a part of that family. But I’m a big sister to Reggie, so I give him all the love and affection and attention I would never be allowed to show my mother’s son.”

  Rye’s fingers laced through Tora’s and he pulled her hand into his lap, almost imperceptibly. He thought they had it rough in the city, trying to be content with rations, living a life with no real hope for anything more, nothing to pursue, watching apathy brew around them like a storm. He realized, after listening to Tora, that Ernesto and the gangs and the Scrappers, they were the ambitious ones. They were the dreamers, the ones who aspired to more. If you were restless, if a life of tickets and licenses didn’t fulfill, those were your only choices. There was nothing else.

  “Are your dreams…do they ever…feel like something remembered? Instead of something to come?” Rye asked Tora. It was shaky ground he was scaling, but he needed to know if Tora was an Otherborn as well as a Seer.

  “How do y
ou mean?” Tora puzzled, her hand warm and willing inside his own.

  “Like of another life? Somewhere else? Where you’re someone else?”

  Tora cut through his questions with one look. “You’re saying that’s what I saw in the dream with her? A past life, a past London?”

  He nodded, squeezing her hand without realizing it. He wanted her to understand.

  “But it didn’t feel past,” Tora whispered.

  “It wasn’t. Not this time.”

  “Rye, are you suggesting? I mean…do you…dream also? Are you like London? Is there a past you?” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “This is so unreal. Not just one other dreamer, but two. Who are you really? You’re more than just Wallers.”

  Rye shrugged. “I wish I could answer that. What about you? When you dream, are you different?”

  Tora sighed. “No. Sorry. It’s just me in the dreams, like I am now. No hidden past. No other Tora.”

  Rye couldn’t hide his disappointment.

  “There must be some reason my Sight brought us together. I thought I had a firm grasp on what was happening, but now, I realize my Sight has only given me a glimpse.”

  Before they could attempt to make sense of it, her Sight, their Otherborn, they were cut short.

  “Rye?” The sound was hoarse, dry, like someone had grated her vocal cords over sandpaper.

  He almost didn’t recognize it.

  Rye looked up. His eyes found hers with an eagerness he didn’t know he was capable of. Raised on her elbows, she looked paler and thinner than normal, but a vital blush was spreading under her pronounced cheeks. For a second, her dark irises found his, and he thought he’d see his own joy reciprocated there. Instead, he found questions, searching. Her lashes fluttered as she cast her gaze downward, and Rye followed to where her eyes had settled.

  They were on his lap. Where he and Tora’s hands lay intertwined, her sun-kissed fingers knotted around his freckled knuckles, so obvious to him now. A moment before, he’d barely noticed. Quickly he released his grip on Tora, who said nothing. But it was too late, she’d already seen.