Incarnate n-1

by Jodi Meadows

  “What are you looking for?” the seller asked.

  “I need something sturdy, but soft enough I that can bend it with my hands.” After imagining the finished product for a moment, I held out my arms. “About triple this much.”

  He rifled around and produced several options. “I recommend this”—he jiggled one—“because it’s not expensive, and you need a lot.”

  “That sounds perfect.” Thankful he’d made the choice easy, I gazed around at the other options. Silver, gold, things I couldn’t identify. “Where do you get all the metal, anyway?”

  The seller began writing my bill. “Most of it washes down from the mountains, but there are a couple of drone-mined caverns around.” His pencil halted over the paper, and he squinted at me. “What did you say your name was?”

  I tried to make myself taller. “Ana. But make the bill to Dossam, please.”

  His eyes narrowed, and I resisted the urge to retreat as he finished writing. “Don’t come around here again, nosoul.” He shoved the paper and coil of wire at me. “Dear Janan, why are we being tested this way?”

  A high voice piped up from behind me. “Sure would be a shame if people knew how rude you were to customers, Marika.” A young girl, perhaps nine years old, smiled widely at me. “Have a good afternoon, Ana.”

  I grabbed my things and hurried away. Everyone knew me. People who hated me, people who didn’t seem to care one way or another, and even people who liked me for inexplicable reasons. Like Sarit, or the girl in the jeweler’s stall.

  The masquerade was coming up. No one would know me then.

  It didn’t take me long to find Larkin, who sold dyed cloth. I mimed how much synthetic silk I wanted, and we discussed colors and prices before settling. Only then did he ask my name, but he fell into the category of people who didn’t care. That was a relief.

  While he folded my things and wrote a bill for Sam, I scanned the market. The crowd hadn’t thinned at all. People still haggled over trinkets and shared bites of food. Children marched between stalls, behaving just like adults. I even saw an infant like that, quiet and mature as he directed his current parents to things he wanted. I must have been such a shock to the world, unable to communicate except by mindless screaming.

  Armande spotted me and waved, as did a few others I had lessons with. I waved back, half wondering if Sam had sent them to keep an eye on me.

  A tall figure appeared in the corner of my eye. She touched my shoulder.

  “Stef, I said I—” I turned and stuttered, staggered back. “Li.” She looked just as she had on my birthday, fierce and ever-annoyed by my existence. My body turned wooden.

  Larkin returned from packaging my items. “Here you go, Ana.” Then he was quiet, too.

  “So.” Li plucked the bill from Larkin’s hand. “You found someone else to take care of you. Dossam has always been a fool.”

  My throat was broken. So was my tongue. I wanted to snap back and say no one took care of me, but didn’t he?

  “Nothing to say?” Li sneered and shoved the paper back at Larkin. “I suppose I should be impressed you made it here, what with your sense of direction.”

  “You gave me a bad compass.” Part of me wished someone would step in to help. Most of me wished I could stand up to her on my own. “You nearly got me killed.”

  “You know to check your equipment.”

  “Go away.” My voice was surely lost beneath the crowd’s cacophony and the pounding of my heart. “You’re not part of my life anymore. Leave me alone.”

  She pinched my chin and turned my face up. “On the contrary, I’ve asked the Council to return you to my care. You’re my daughter, and there’s so much I should teach you.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t.” I hated this, feeling pitiful, feeling unable to fight back. After everything Sam and I had talked about, and as many times as I’d called him rude names when I actually liked him, why couldn’t I face Li? “He won’t let you.”

  “He won’t have a choice.”

  “The Council won’t let you.”

  “Do you think people would coddle you as much if they realized what you really are? The beginning of more nosouls. The end of us. I doubt Sam would treat you so nicely if you’d replaced Stef. You’ve already replaced Ciana, though she might have been a phase for him. Like you are.” She smiled and sailed off.

  No telling how long I stared after her, paralyzed, but Larkin said, “Ana, your things,” and I tried to thank him before I fled to the place I was supposed to meet my friends.

  Friends? Earlier they’d felt like friends, but if Li was right, if the Council was right, Sam was my guardian and the others were doing him favors. I knew he cared about me, but still.

  I dug the heels of my palms against my temples, struggling to compose myself before anyone found me.

  “Ana?” Hands closed over my shoulders and I leapt backward. Sine released me, alarm on her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I hugged my bags to my chest and started south, toward Sam’s house. He could meet me there. I didn’t want to see anyone.

  Sine kept up easily. “You looked scared out of your mind. What happened?” She was on the Council. Maybe she could help.

  “It’s Li.” I led her away from the crowds and checked the area for Sam or the others. No one. “Please don’t make me go back with her. I can’t do that again.” My throat ached from holding back sobs. “Please.”

  “Why would I make you go back?” Sine shook her head. “Tell me everything that happened. Trust me, we have no plans to remove you from Sam’s care. Everyone says you’re doing fine.”

  Shivering, I told her what had happened by Larkin’s stall, but even as I did, I felt stupid. Li hadn’t done anything. She’d barely touched me. She’d just been herself. “I’m sorry.” My head throbbed. “I shouldn’t go on about it. She just rattled me.” I should have kept my mouth shut.

  Sine ignored my attempts to wave it off. “Li can be intimidating,” she started.

  Beyond her, Sam and Whit arrived at the meeting spot. Sam glanced around. Just as he saw me, raised his hand and noticed my distress, thunder shook the sky.

  The market went silent as everyone looked up. All at once. They seemed to be holding their breath.

  That was weird. The sky was as clear as it had been this morning, only geyser and hot spring steam misting over the wall. The thunder came again.

  “Get inside.” Sine shoved me toward the southwest residential quarter. “Meuric’s house is the first one on the corner. Hide in there. You’ll be safe.”

  “What?” Before I realized, everyone was moving, shouting. Most sounded like they were giving orders, but they grew louder and more panicked with each second. People surged toward the Councilhouse, toward the residential quarters. I looked to where Sam had been, but he was already hidden behind the wall of chaos. “What’s happening?”

  “Go to Meuric’s house.” She pushed me again. “We don’t know what will happen if you die. Go now.”

  I looked up again, but there was nothing in the sky. Everyone was panicking about thunder, but—

  “Dragons,” she hissed, and even she looked terrified. “Dragons are about to attack Heart.”

  Chapter 16

  Acid

  THE FALSE THUNDER punctuated the din of panicked people fleeing every which way. I feigned retreat to Meuric’s house while shoving my shopping bag inside my coat. But when Sine was out of sight, I zipped up and darted into the mass of people. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out all million citizens of Heart were here, not with the way I had to elbow people aside.

  “Sam!” I scanned the crowd for his face, tried to remember what he’d been wearing earlier. My mind was blank, so I kept shouting his name.

  The thunder grew louder, more distinct. It didn’t sound like thunder anymore, but growling and whapping of leathery wings.

  North, just over the city wall, I saw a deep black shape that separated into three as they drew
closer. They had long, serpentine bodies with wings that stretched wide. Sunlight glittered off scales. They were sinuous and elegant, deadlier than sylph. I stared, stupidly enraptured.

  People slammed into me—“Move, girl!”—and jolted me back into reality. When I ducked and tried to push against the flow of people heading toward the residential area, my breast pocket chirped. I fumbled for the SED.

  “Ana!” I could barely hear Sam over the double cacophony. “Go home.”

  “Where are you?” I had to shout, and my throat was already raw with cold. “I can’t find you.”

  “Go home.” The connection dropped. Of course he wouldn’t tell me where he was; he knew I’d go after him.

  I stuffed the device away and kept going. Surely he realized I wouldn’t leave him in this chaos, no matter his orders.

  The market tents were bright bruises against the Councilhouse and temple, cloth mazes that made every turn a wrong one. People scrambled about, some with purpose, most with panic. Still no Sam.

  A high-pitched wail rippled through the city, emanating first from the Councilhouse, then shrieking through other buildings before silencing. The alarm was just an attention-getter, as if anyone could be unaware of the attack. Surely even the deaf could hear the dragon thunder.

  Three incredible bangs came from the north wall. I strained to see, but the Councilhouse blocked my view. I pressed my palms over my ears, but it didn’t muffle the noise. “Sam!” My voice was lost among everyone’s, and I couldn’t see over hundreds of people taller than me.

  I jammed my coat-cushioned elbow against someone — who didn’t seem to notice — and wiggled between two others. There, on the Councilhouse steps. A head of dark hair in need of cutting. Sam? I pushed through and forced my way up the stairs, but he was gone.

  The throng finally thinned as everyone either reached safety or — I could halfway see from atop the stairs — reached weapons. At the top of the northern guard station, which was as tall as the city wall itself, a line of cannons had been raised, aimed toward the dragons, now mere yards from Heart.

  Another series of thundering bangs, and metal and fire shot from the cannons. One hit the lead dragon, who buckled and tumbled through the air, but the other two flew sideways and dodged easily, in spite of their wingspan.

  Cannons swiveled on their mounts as the two dragons flew over the walls, but they didn’t shoot, not toward the city. Blue targeting lights shot up from the ground, followed by invisible laser blasts, but the damage was minimal. The dragons’ hide was stronger than iron.

  While one dragon headed straight for the center of Heart, the other spat globs of green something — not mucus, but something that sizzled through the North Avenue cobblestones. Acid. It spread in huge, slimy puddles toward houses and farms.

  When a laser finally got more than a glancing hit, it seared through a giant wing. The reek of cooking flesh ripped through the city, and the dragon spiraled toward North Avenue, flinging acid as it went. Hurrah, but by then, the dragon that had been hit by the cannon recovered enough to follow its fellows into the city.

  “Ana! For the love of Janan, what are you doing out here?” Stef emerged from the Councilhouse, carrying a laser pistol. “Get inside. Now.” Without checking to make sure I obeyed, she hurtled off the stairs and shot a beam of blue light at the nearest dragon, which had reached the temple.

  I couldn’t move. The dragon was right over the Councilhouse, and the other followed close behind, taking laser blasts as though to protect the first. Globs of acid rained on the market field, burning through tents and tables. People converged on the fallen dragon, firing weapons as it thrashed and spit. Humans and dragons all screamed.

  The one above began wrapping itself around the temple, shrieking wildly as it bit at the building. Acid drooled downward, but neither it nor the knife-sharp teeth harmed the stone. I covered my ears at the scraping and keening. All these people with weapons, and it went after the temple? Futilely? Its protector wouldn’t last long, even with the rain of acid.

  Lights shot upward, fast and blinding. More people, who only minutes before had been selling pastries, surged from inside the Councilhouse with weapons. They bounded down the steps, careful of the seeping puddles of acid that glowed green.

  Sam caught my shoulder as he came outside, also armed. “Go inside.” Fear and alarm contorted his face, and there was a darkness in his eyes I’d never seen before. “Please,” he rasped. “Be safe.”

  Dumbly, I shook my head and pointed at the dragon guarding the one around the temple. Laser beams finally pierced the wide wings and armored hide, and the beast crashed downward, slinging a globule of acid toward the Councilhouse steps — toward us.

  I yanked Sam behind a column just as the acid splashed onto the stone and began eating through. Spatters hissed against the back of my coat.

  Shouting for Sam to do the same, I unzipped my coat and slipped my arms free. My bag of clothes and costume supplies dropped to my feet, safe. Dozens of holes appeared on our coats; the acrid stench of burning wool made my nose scrunch.

  Holding my breath, I ran my hands along Sam’s back, but he was clean. He did the same for me, then drew me into a tight hug as the third dragon hit the ground and everything shook. I shook, too, with cold and fear of what had almost happened.

  The acid ate through the steps quickly and neutralized. Sam stared at it as dumbly as I had at the dragons, that darkness in his eyes. That must have been how I’d looked the night he saved me from drowning, when I’d run from his tent and found myself staring at the lake with nowhere to go.

  The darkness was memory. He’d probably died in dragon acid before, maybe within the last few lifetimes. I didn’t have to ask to know, so I wouldn’t. Instead, I touched his chin and drew his gaze away from the hole in the stairs. “It’s over.” They hadn’t even had time to launch the air drones, things specially made to defend against dragons.

  I had no experience with dragons other than what I’d just witnessed. I’d only read about them: failed attempts to hunt the population into extinction, diseases and poisons introduced into their food supply, and experiments done on captured dragons. But still they attacked, as angry as they’d been five thousand years ago when humans first came to Range.

  The people of Heart had endured these attacks for millenia — I couldn’t begin to imagine overcoming that kind of terror every time.

  More people swarmed from the Councilhouse, parting around us as they wielded small hoses that sprayed chemical mist on everything the acid had touched. It smelled sweet, like crushed grass. The cleanup had begun and we should help, but I needed Sam to be okay first.

  He lowered his eyes and kept his voice soft. “I wanted to be brave.”

  I held my hand over his, which still gripped the pistol hilt. His knuckles were pale, and veins showed sharp and blue. “Why didn’t you stay in the Councilhouse?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t go home. I had to find you.”

  My chest tightened. “You are brave, Sam. You’re the bravest man I know.”

  After we helped clean our share, we fetched our belongings and went back to his house. I read to him for an hour before he fell asleep, leaning against my shoulder. I put the book aside and adjusted myself on the sofa.

  He shivered closer to me, one hand tight around mine. It was strange, being in this position of having to comfort someone when I’d only recently learned to be comforted. But I remembered how Sam held me in the cabin after the sylph, and that his presence had helped. I could do the same for him.

  Breathing in the scent of his hair, I realized I’d needed him my whole life, before we even met. First, his music and the way he taught me through books and recordings. Then, he saved my life and refused to abandon me no matter how much I deserved it.

  But as I pulled a blanket over both of us and combed my fingers through his hair, my perspective shifted.

  There was no music in this quiet, and none of the tension of two weeks ago in the kitchen. Even
with his body against mine, I didn’t have knots or yearning, just desire for him to be himself again, unhaunted by past lives and deaths.

  He held on to me like I was a rock, the only thing keeping him from drifting out with the tide of dark memories.

  It was the first time I realized he needed me, too.

  Chapter 17

  Footsteps

  “NO SAM TONIGHT?” Sine asked from across the library table. It had only taken her an hour to bring it up. She’d made it sound casual, but I didn’t have to be five thousand years old to know she’d been waiting for an opening. Apparently silence was as good an opening as any.

  I gave a one-shouldered shrug and turned the page of my book. Philosophy. Lots of guessing why people were reborn. Why some took a year to return, while others took up to ten. No one agreed on anything, but because these were where my questions began, this was what I had to read. “We don’t do everything together.”

  “Don’t you? I don’t think I’ve seen you apart since the market.”

  I’d been under the impression people in Heart valued their privacy. My alternate theory — that people already knew everything about one another, so they didn’t bother prying — sounded more likely now. I was the exception, of course. If I was involved even remotely, people asked questions. The afternoon I’d dragged Sam outside the city so he could show me all the nearby geysers and hot springs, gossip had spread like wildfire. I still couldn’t figure out what made fumaroles so scandalous, but maybe people were desperate.

  “I’m just surprised he’s not with you, that’s all. You two have been spending as much time here as Whit, always off in your own corners, studying.”

  I flashed a smile. “He said he wasn’t sleeping well and wanted to rest this evening. Everything should be back to normal soon.” Maybe. He hadn’t actually said anything. I’d made him stay in.

  “Oh, good. I hope he feels more rested soon.” She ducked over her book again, pen scraping against the paper grain.