The Broken Heavens

by Kameron Hurley

  “That is quite a trip from here.”

  “I followed the river.”

  “How did they find you, child?” Taigan asked, genuinely curious.

  “I fled from Shoratau.”

  “Ah, yes. Who else? Roh, that child, he escaped as well. How curious.”

  “How did… Yes, he did. And Kadaan! He was alive, a year… maybe more, ago. He got me out of Anjoliaa.”

  “And how have you survived here all this time? You were a slave?”

  “I could understand how to power the temples, the beasts that can channel the satellites. And close all these–” Luna gestured behind hir, toward the ark “–seams, you know. Their Empress does not like people just falling out of the sky and taking what she thinks is hers.”

  “How is it done, then? Powering the beasts? I heard from a little bird that you found the book you sought in Saiduan.”

  Luna took another step back. “Are you working for them? I should go.”

  “I work for myself and my own purposes, now. I belong to no one. But you? Where will you go? Saiduan is destroyed. The Tai Mora own the world. The knowledge you have is useless without allies.”

  “I’ve already told them all they need to know to figure out how to use the temples to focus the power. They don’t need me.”

  “That makes you terribly expendable. That’s hardly a mark in your favor.”

  Luna frowned. “Some days I wanted to destroy them all, did you know? Maybe we should. Maybe that’s better. If we keep doing this again and again…” Luna tilted hir head at him. “I’m tired of being afraid. Aren’t you?”

  “I trained as a sanisi long before you were born,” Taigan said. “I was burned up eighteen times in various attempts to kill me. I have been hacked to pieces twenty-seven times. Maimed and mauled and broken and left for dead more than I can count. I know fear, and I know pain. I fear most that I will never die, that this is my punishment, that the gods doomed me to this for some terrible wrong I committed on some other world. Who is to say? But here is what I know, little Luna, little satellite. Without fear we are the humble herbivores lumbering on the plains. We are a flash of light in the sky. Without fear to drive us we never become what we are meant to be.”

  “What about love?” Luna said.

  “What about love, yes,” Taigan said. “Love is the fear of dying alone. That’s all.”

  “That isn’t true.”

  Taigan held open his hands, palms up. “If you are going to run, then run into the woods, Luna,” he said. “Run and run until you’re eaten by some bone tree or trapped inside a bladder plant. Run for fear of what could be. But that is what the herbivores do. Run and run, until mortality catches them. I chase, Luna. I chase, always.”

  “These temples, these machines,” Luna said, “can do more than just close the ways between worlds. They could decide to use it in many ways. They could decide to destroy not only this world, but millions, trillions, an infinite number of others. If I give you that information, or give it to them, then I am complicit. All I gave them was the code, cipher. The other… well, they won’t find out what else it does, besides close the ways between the worlds.”

  “Why not?”

  “I tore out the appendix.”

  “You… what?”

  “When they captured me. I knew they would take the book, once they realized what it was.”

  “Taigan laughed. “Where is the appendix?”

  “Gone, thrown into the sea.”

  “So no one will ever know?”

  Luna hesitated. Ze opened hir mouth as if to say something, and thought better of it. Ze shook her head

  Taigan wondered if ze told the truth, or obfuscated to make hir case for freedom stronger.

  “I’m going to build some other life with the Dhai,” Luna said. “With the appendix gone, well, we’re as safe as we’ll ever be, I guess. They could still figure out how to break the world, I know. But I did what I could to stop it.”

  “The Dhai? Why those pacifists?”

  “There are still free Dhai, in the woods. I’ve heard that all along the way here. The Woodland Dhai are free. They have a rebel leader, Faith Ahya reborn. They have evaded the Tai Mora all this time. Maybe they can use what I know. Or not. Maybe they could help hide me.”

  Taigan felt a twist of… what emotion was it? Surely not hope. “Faith Ahya? A little girl in a white dress, her face covered in scars?”

  “I don’t know. But she is very powerful. She leads the rebel Dhai in the woods. They wear white ribbons, that’s what people say. They are going to take back the country.”

  “If there is some resistance of Dhai,” Taigan said, “perhaps they will be interested in what you know. If the temples truly are the source of power, if they find themselves a worldbreaker, well… we could destroy a good many Tai Mora this way.”

  “You don’t want to help the Dhai!”

  “No, I came here to kill Tai Mora, and it seems that could be a possibility if we are the ones wresting control of the temples. Do you know where the Dhai are? The Woodland is dangerous.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “I have traversed that wood,” Taigan said. “I can help you survive it.”

  “No tricks. A partnership between the two of us.”

  “There can be no partnership between a sanisi and another.”

  “Well, there is now. New world, new rules.”

  Luna was right, of course, and Taigan did not think hir cowed for a moment. Taigan recognized that having a Dhai-looking companion could get him there among the rebel Dhai to see what they were truly composed of. Perhaps he could trade that information for an audience with the Empress. And though Luna may not tell him or Kirana how to close the seams between the worlds, it was entirely possible Luna would tell the Dhai. And if Luna did, Taigan would be listening.

  Living as long as he had, had taught him patience. His only concern, as he gazed at the dying light outside, was that though he had patience, the sky did not. The sky was going to keep moving, and he knew that once Oma left them in twenty years, they would be stuck with whatever new neighbors had muscled their way in over the decades. Time was not quite as infinite as it had been. Oma waited for no one. Least of all him.

  “I don’t believe you,” Luna said.

  “I can heal your little leg, Luna. I can dry your clothes. We can indeed be partners.”

  “Why?”

  “I always did prefer the underdog. And there is no dog more under-served than you.”

  Luna glanced at hir leg, and Taigan knew then that he had hir. Taigan smiled broadly. “Let’s go see what the Dhai in the woods are up to. I suspect they will be just as eager to murder the Tai Mora as I am, bless their little pacifist hearts.”

  16

  A clattering of footsteps above and behind them. The smell of everpine and dust. The temple rumbled around them.

  Lilia shivered. Elaiko squeaked.

  “Someone is coming!” Elaiko said.

  “Yes,” the creature said. “I’m afraid our time is limited. You should find the Guide. The Guide can bring you to the People’s Temple.”

  “Who… who is the Guide?” Lilia asked.

  “We need to get out!” Elaiko said. “Is there another way out? Can you help us?”

  The creature gestured to the walls. “Step through,” it said. “I can take you to any other part of this temple. But only the Guide can step from one temple to another.”

  “Who is the Guide?”

  “The Creature of Caisau chose the Guide. The Guide is close. I feel him near. The Key, also.”

  “But… the Worldbreaker?” Lilia asked, and it came out more desperate than she intended. She had learned to hate that word.

  “When the three come together, you will know. The heavens themselves will draw them together.”

  “But, who–”

  “Choose,” the creature said, shaking its beribboned head. The image of it stuttered, shifted, purled away and reformed, like a bri
lliant aurora. “The Worldbreaker is the one who chooses. Anyone can stand at the center and direct the mechanism. ‘Worldbreaker’ is a poor translation. Better, perhaps, to say the figure who controls the flow of power that is channeled to the People’s Temple is a world-shaper. The Worldshaper, once in place, is the one who chooses what to do with all that power. And there are many choices. So very many.”

  “But…”

  A flicker of lanterns cast great shadows from the weeping wound in the ceiling. Raised voices. The air heaved and compressed. Lilia gasped, like breathing underwater. Shouting. The Tai Mora had found the bodies. The heavy air lifted.

  “Please!” Elaiko hissed, grabbing Lilia’s sleeve.

  “Does the Key know what, who it is?” Lilia asked. “Can the Key be anyone?”

  “The Key was chosen long ago. The Key will be unique, able to bear the full power of the satellites.”

  “So the Key isn’t the Kai?” Lilia said.

  “The Kai can gain you access to the People’s Temple,” the creature said, “and converse with the temple creatures, as you have done with me. The Kai can gain access to these chambers, yes, without all this… ruination that the interloper has brought.” The creature paused, cocking its head as if listening to the patter of feet above them. “I fear your time here is short. You are nearly found. I see it in your face, though, don’t I? I see your desire, to shape the world.”

  “I’m no one,” Lilia said.

  “None of us are,” the creature said.

  “Please!” Elaiko cried. “Can you get us out of here? Can you… someone get us to the back gardens? Please, they will kill us!”

  “Can you take us… away?” Lilia said. “To the back gardens here in the temple?”

  “If that is your wish,” the creature said, and gestured to the wall.

  “Wait!” Lilia said as Elaiko tugged at her sleeve and the Tai Mora soldiers mounted the ladder above, shouting, the air heavy now, like soup. “How will I find them, the Guide and the Key?”

  “They will find you,” the creature said. Its image broke apart again. Dimmed.

  “Quickly!” Elaiko said, running for the oozing walls. She pressed her hands to the wall, but nothing happened. She wailed. “Oh no!”

  “You must go together,” the creature said, its voice distant now.

  “Take my hand!” Lilia held out her hand, and Elaiko took it.

  A shout, from just behind them. The tickle of power; a tendril of Sina or Tira or Oma, seeking to hold them.

  Lilia pressed her hand against the skin of the temple. The warm pool of it gave beneath her fingers and sucked her forward. She gasped and held her breath, yanking Elaiko with her.

  The moment was nearly instantaneous. Darkness. Warmth. Then she was falling onto cold stones. Elaiko landed on top of her, driving the breath from her body.

  Lilia gasped.

  A few paces away, a young Dhai man sat on a bench drinking directly from a flagon of mead. He gaped.

  “Hush,” Elaiko said, waving a finger at him, “or I’ll tell them you’re stealing.”

  He continued staring, mouth still open, as Elaiko helped Lilia up. Lilia huffed in a breath, still starving for air. Elaiko was already moving, though, saying, “It’s all right if I help you? We must hurry.”

  Lilia wondered where Elaiko’s courage had come from.

  “Which way?” Elaiko asked as they came to a branch in the bone labyrinth. “I’ve gotten turned around! Oh no!” Lilia pointed, and they continued on, Elaiko half-dragging her, until they came to the broken bit of the fence.

  Avosta peered out at them. “Lilia!” he called, relief in his voice.

  But it was Elaiko who shoved herself through first, and he got out of her way. Then reached out to help Lilia.

  “Harina?” Lilia asked.

  “She isn’t with you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Harina knows the way out,” he said. “We all knew the risks. We need to get you out of here. Is it done?”

  “I got what I came for,” Lilia said. She had seen the temple creature herself. “Ahkio was telling the truth. And… there’s much more to discuss. We’ll talk about it at camp. I need to see the Catoris.”

  Avosta led the way to the cliff side. When Elaiko saw how they would travel back down, she nearly turned around. But there were more lights and noise from the courtyard, and Lilia knew they would send out jistas soon. If jistas found them out here, they were done.

  Avosta went first, sliding down the great vine until he reached the point where a massive leaf curled, which broke his rapid descent. Then he stepped off, slid again, and called back up at them. “Come on! Hold tight!”

  Lilia slid after him, wrapping her arms around the vine and holding tight to the wrist of her new hand with her stronger one to ensure a good grip. Elaiko came last, so quickly she nearly squashed Lilia’s head during several descents.

  Lilia came down heavily on the marshy ground below. Her breath was ragged. Avosta held out his hand and she took it. He looped an arm around her waist and helped her to the vine along the rushing water as Elaiko squelched after them.

  “Do you see her?” Lilia asked.

  “No. If Salifa is still there, it will be difficult for her to see us, too. We need to get into the water.”

  A little moan escaped Lilia; she was convinced it was Elaiko, but no. “The last time I swam across a river it was full of sharks,” she said.

  “Only fish, here,” Avosta said, “but the water will be cold. Hold on to me.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck as he plunged into the water. Elaiko shrieked as she followed.

  Lilia gasped at the cold. The current pushed them against the massive length of the vine, and Avosta used the heaving current in their favor for a few steps, until the bottom of the river sank away.

  She clung to him as water rushed over her, threatening to pull them beneath the vine and off and away. Lilia dug into her pocket for the bag of warded hazelnuts, hoping to reduce her weight, and the current snagged them, rushing them off and away downstream.

  Elaiko grabbed hold of her tunic. “Help me!” Elaiko said.

  Avosta grunted. The rushing water bubbled around them. His head went under, taking Lilia with him. Lilia nearly let go. They were just halfway across; she could see the other side. Where was Salifa?

  Elaiko sagged behind Lilia, letting what felt like her whole weight yank her back.

  Avosta lost his grip. All three of them rushed backwards, caught against the heaving vine. Elaiko twisted her hand into Lilia’s tunic. Grabbed the vine with her other hand.

  “I can’t carry you both!” Avosta said, spitting water.

  Behind them, billowing waves of red light began to creep down the cliff, tangling with the great vine. The smell of burning plant matter wafted over the river. The jistas were searching for them – and burning the vine-bridge behind them.

  Lilia released her hold on Avosta and hooked her stronger arm through a tangle in the vine. Avosta, free of them both, clawed forward another few paces and reached back for her.

  “Let go of me, Elaiko,” Lilia said. Her fingers were numb. She felt only the dull pressure of Elaiko clinging to her shoulder. “Grab the vine. Let go.”

  The smell of burning grew stronger.

  “Let her go!” Avosta said. “Come on, Lilia!”

  Lilia tried to pull herself forward. Elaiko lost her grip on her and clung to the vine. Lilia crept forward. Her arms burned. She could no longer feel her fingers.

  Avosta stretched to reach her. “A little further,” he said.

  Elaiko splashed behind her.

  Lilia grabbed his fingertips. The vine shuddered. She turned and saw the great red wave of fiery light engulf the vine on the other side of the river.

  “No,” Lilia breathed.

  The vine snapped. Broke free of the other side. Lilia howled and clung to it with her good hand as best she could. The force of the water whipped the vine downstream with a
savage jerk.

  Avosta lost his grip and disappeared beneath the dark waves. Elaiko screamed. Lilia closed her eyes and held on tightly, riding the push of the water. She hit several rocks, a dull ache. The vine rolled up against the bank. Lilia’s feet met the shallow bottom and she hauled herself over the vine and up onto the bank on the other side. She collapsed in the mud, shaking violently.

  Elaiko crawled up beside her and began to sob.

  Lilia sat up. “We don’t have much time,” she wheezed, and patted her pockets. She found her mahuan-laced water bulb and took a great swallow.

  She did not wait for Elaiko, but continued further up the bank, breath still coming too heavily. She sank down again, defeated. She needed the rest. Closed her eyes. Focused on her breathing.

  “Where is that man?” Elaiko said. “Did he… did he make it across?”

  Lilia gritted her teeth. She heaved herself up, using a low hanging branch as leverage, and tottered forward. She shoved Elaiko, startling them both. The shocked look on Elaiko’s face was so satisfying that Lilia did it again, and again. Elaiko shrank away.

  “You fool!” Lilia said. “You absolute cowardly fool! You could have drowned all three of us. Avosta was worth three of you!”

  “I’m a fool? Me? What did we learn in there, really? That someone is going to break the world? How does that help us?”

  Lilia reared back to push her again. Elaiko caught her by her soft new hand and twisted it. Lilia cried out, stumbled, and fell to her knees.

  Elaiko released her. Took two steps back. “You aren’t anything special,” Elaiko said. “Ora Nasaka thought she was special too, and they murdered her all the same.”

  “None of us are special,” Lilia said, panting. “There are no special people. No one chosen to save us. We’re stuck in some long cycle of death and destruction begun thousands of years before we were born, and it will go on thousands of years after, unless we stop it. Not anyone special. Just us, Elaiko. You’re right. I’m not important. Nor are you. But we found something out today. We found out how to murder the Tai Mora and take back our country. We found out how to use these temples our ancestors built to save ourselves. We may not be special, but that is.”

  Lilia waited a moment in silence while Elaiko caught her breath, then slowly rose to her feet, pushing out her twisted leg to get better leverage. Even so, she nearly went over again. She turned away from Elaiko and started up the long, winding path to the cover of the woodland above where the dogs would be waiting, if her luck held.