by Abby Dewsnup
“Do you know a way out of here?” I asked, touching the black handprint on my calf with ginger, trembling fingers. I could imagine a dozen more hands touching my skin, blistering it away until I was ash. Not for the first time that day, I thought about Jay. Grief, how I wished he was here now.
“There’s a tunnel beneath the weeping statue.” The boy took my hands without an invitation and pulled me to my feet, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Although the Solifeer here could kill those Shadows with swipe of her hand. Whatever, this will have to suffice.”
He led me to the base of the statue, his hand still clutching mine. I realized that he was inadvertently holding me up — and, in the process, my Solifeer senses were erupting with insight. Fragments of his life passed through me. I could see his hands, see the way he ran from town to town. But when I traced him back to a few weeks ago, the image stopped short, and there was nothing but darkness.
He stepped on a specific tile, and a small stone doorway fell away in the statue. I could smell the mildew from where I stood. “Go ahead,” the boy told Warren.
I watched as Warren vanished in the darkness of the tunnel, a skeptical look across his boyish face. The scratching was growing louder, and I could see the light fading through the windows. Soon, the Stygian would invade us.
The boy tried to push me inside, but I pulled away. “Does it still hurt?” I asked breathlessly, not fully understanding what I meant by the question. I had gathered enough information to know that his nights were filled with pain as he laid on a back that was streaked with scars. I had to ask him, to show I cared.
The boy looked taken aback, the smallest hint of grief passing over his hardened face. “So you’re the Solifeer after all, if you saw that much,” he said lightly.
“Sorry. I just had a friend who was like you, in a sense. And I never asked him about it. I don’t want to do that again,” I said, knowing I sounded crazy.
The boy’s eyes softened a degree. “You should get in that tunnel, Anya. Warren is waiting for you,” was all he said.
I followed him into the darkness, hearing the stone slide shut behind us just as the cathedral door splintered open. A dozen wailing voices were lost to the silence of the damp tunnel.
My marks lit up, a glowing green this time. I tried to ignore the boy’s wide eyes and the eerie feeling that had now settled around us. The tunnel was steep and moist, and I couldn’t see an end.
I treaded on the boy’s cloak accidentally, and murmured a quick apology. My eyes caught on a single feather on the ground, and another a little way up ahead. I realized, with a start, that they were falling from beneath the kid’s cloak.
I kept my findings to myself as we walked through the tunnel. It wasn’t until much later that it occurred to me that I had never told him my name, and yet he knew it all the same.
22
Illumination
The tunnel was damp and reeking of the earth. I lost my footing dozens of times, unable to see the cracks and crevices within the rocky floor. Despite having skin that glowed, I did little to illuminate the dark.
“I’ve never heard of a Cave-Dweller who can’t find their way in the dark,” the boy said from behind me.
“And your name is?” Warren snapped. He was pointedly looking at the young boy, who had thrown his hood back over his hair.
The kid raised his head, his expression upturned mockingly as he said, “Not a name you’ve heard of, I’m sure.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You said you were a Seer, correct?” I interrupted, my fingers tracing the rivets in the stone walls. “What does that entail?”
“More than I bargained for, that’s for sure,” he muttered. “But I can’t read your thoughts or anything like that. I saw you coming though. I saw where you would be.”
“Where we would be?” I asked slowly, that familiar suspicion slithering its way into my words. “You’ve seen us before?”
“That’s what a Seer does, lady. We find stuff, we find people.” He kicked at the wall, his hands balled into fists. “But I’m rotten at it. I can’t even find the one I’m really looking for.”
“Why were you trying to find us?” It was Warren who spoke this time, his voice a forced attempt at resembling his father. Obviously, posing as an authority figure is not something he was good at.
The boy drew in a shaky breath, his fingers flexing as if he was reaching for some unseen object. “I need—”
The faint sound of scratching interrupted his sentence. Down the tunnel, long past the entrance we had used to get in, the sound was emanating, growing louder by the second.
A memory flashed before me, nearly tangible in the darkness. The skeleton houses, how the Stygian would spread below us, scratching at the columns, their hooded faces only inches from our feeble light.
My heart began to race. “This tunnel is infested,” I breathed. “And they know we’re here. They’re running.”
“Then we’ve got to run, too!” Warren shouted, grabbing my shoulder and yanking me towards him. “C’mon, kid, which way do we go?”
I pulled away sharply. “No, you can’t outrun a Stygian in the dark, Warren.” I was nearly reaching hysteria, but I kept myself level on the outside. The only chink in my armor was my hands, which had begun to tremble as Jay’s once had.
“She’s right.” The boy was crouched on the ground, tossing a pebble between his hands. I couldn’t help but think of a young, arrogant god I saw once in a picture book. “There’s no escape ahead of us; they’re already there. And behind us is also certain death, so do as you will.” He was irritatingly calm as he spoke.
“That’s all you’ve got, wise Seer?” I gasped out, running a hand through my hair. “You said you needed to find us, so there must be a reason. Help us now, or that reason is obsolete.”
“Funny words, coming from the Solifeer,” the boy replied.
I gazed back down the tunnel. I guessed we had thirty seconds, maybe a minute before the hoard would be on us. My head was spinning. “I don’t know what to do, don’t you understand? I passed through the Light Kingdom scarcely a few days ago. Jay was the only one who knew about this kind of stuff.”
The kid raised his head, defiance plain on his young face. He took aim, the words posed on his lips. “So why isn’t he the Solifeer?”
The weapon in his words drove through me. “Because they wouldn’t let a Death Bringer live.” I slammed my hand against the wall as I said the words, and a flash of light suddenly coursed down the stonework. It was the same green as my light marks. Warren and the boy took a step back in surprise, and I stumbled against the tunnel wall as the ground trembled beneath my feet.
The blinding flash vanished as fast as it had come. Eyes wide, I placed my shaking palm against the stone again. Tendrils of light spread over the rock, looking like veins bleeding from my fingers. The veins spread down the hall and lit up the darkness.
“Do you hear that?” Warren whispered.
“I can’t hear anything,” I replied.
He grinned. “Exactly. You’ve killed the buggers.”
I looked over at the Seer boy, confused. He shrugged. “Sometimes you just need a kick into action.”
“You knew that would happen?” I cried. “You knew that my anger would kill them?”
“I’m starting to think that you don’t understand the concept of a Seer, Anya. Now follow me, I know where we’re going.”
“Yeah, over my dead body. I’m not following you until you give us some answers,” Warren spat.
The boy shrugged for a second time. “Okay then.” I watched as he sidestepped Warren and began to walk headlong into the darkness.
Warren cursed under his breath.
“C’mon,” I said, shouldering past him. “I get the feeling he’s our best chance out of this tunnel alive. I don’t care who he is, I just need to get back to the city.” I wished I could feel as confident as my statement appeared.
“Finally, some sense
from one of you,” the boy called over his shoulder.
“Hey, you’re like, fourteen, so zip it,” Warren replied with a scowl.
The kid looked back at us, a boyish grin on his face. “Nearly fifteen. Now hurry up, I want to get out of here as much as you do.”
I was silent as we trekked through the dank underground, taking dozens of turns and crossing entrances. Several times I saw a doorway leading above ground, but we passed by them without a word.
All the while I marveled at my hands. It was only a few hours ago that I lit an entire field on fire, and now I learned how to kill a Stygian. Or at least, I believed they were dead. If I had known I had such a power in the Caves, it would have been easier. All the lives I could’ve saved. I thought of Jankes, my old dealer, and all the families that had been evicted from the Skeleton homes.
I would return to them, when this mess was over, and make things right. Somehow.
The boy climbed three steps and pushed open a trapdoor. I was expecting light to radiate from the opening, but I could only make out the sliver of inky black sky. Night had fallen while we were in the tunnels.
And it was snowing.
I forgot myself as I took in the flakes falling around me. They clung to every branch, every leaf and blade of grass. It was a whiteness beyond anything I had seen — a whiteness that felt suffocating and cold. I wrapped my arms around myself. “What’s happening? It isn’t the season for this.”
“We rarely have snow in the outerlands of the Light Districts.” The boy flicked a snowflake from his finger. “I suspect it’s your World Shaker friend sending you a message.”
“Why would he do that?” I asked, shivering in my sodden, muddy shirt.
“Because this is the part he lives for. The chaos, the chase. The only reason why he hasn’t killed you yet is because your very existence is what makes our world appealing. Not only is there darkness, but there’s light.” The boy scoffed. “You’re the reason why our world is going to die, and you don’t even know it.”
Warren’s hand shot out like a fired arrow and grabbed the kid’s collar, yanking him off his feet. “Hold your tongue, kid.”
This only made the boy grin his wicked-looking smile. “I’ve seen it done time and time again. You don’t see the Solifeer attacking me, do you? That’s because she knows I’m right.”
I looked away, but not before I tugged my staff free and held it tightly in my hands. “It’s not possible to have seen the destruction of a world. That would make you millennia old.”
“Or just really, really smart.” He shrugged. “C’mon, Solifeer, let’s make camp somewhere before you freeze. If you die, let’s make it at the hands of a World Shaker, not the snow, shall we?”
Warren shot me an irritated glance as he dropped the boy back to his feet. “You can’t travel with us until we know your name and why exactly you’re here,” he spat.
The boy turned. “The Solifeer’s and my destinies are entwined, trapped together the moment Jay Kurtis touched the Oracle Stones. She knows this, I know this. And I think that’s enough questions for tonight, Windwalker.”
I did not know this. Warren turned to me, a question on his lips, but I shouldered past him, following the bare footprints of the boy through the snow and up the crest of the hill.
He stopped beneath a weeping willow tree, its branches coated in ice. “This is the best wood we’ll get out here,” he said. “Anya, think you can light it up?”
Warren broke off branches, shaking his head as he did so. Kye dug into the snow, making a barrier against the storm.
I did as he asked, watching the flames sprout across my hands easily, the warmth boiling in my veins stronger now because of the cold, as if my skin was glad for the burning. It wasn’t long before we had a roaring fire in the center of a dug-out of snow. The flames scarcely ran the chill from my bones, but it certainly helped.
All the while, the boy was silent and downcast. Warren was on the other side of the fire, his face illuminated by the flickering light. I laid out my nearly-empty bag, wishing for a cloak to wrap myself in, and pulled my knees up to my chest.
“You look really bad. No offense,” the boy said. “If we weren’t in the middle of a snowstorm, I’d tell you to get medical attention.”
I turned to him. “It’s been a long couple of days,” I replied indignantly. “You try passing through the Light Kingdom and back without a couple of burns.”
He chuckled. “You have no idea. If there’s one thing the Lucents love, it’s a tragedy. Give them a burning hero or a boy without his wings, and they’ll eat it up.”
I looked away, watching the fire flicker into the night sky. “Why did you say our destinies are entwined?”
“Because destinies are decided. We’re trapped in them. That’s why I’m here, and why you’re here.” He rubbed the back of his head in nonchalance, as if his answer made all the sense in the world.
With a sigh I leaned back against my backpack. I could see the night sky through the willow tree branches, the low clouds and falling snow. Around us there was silence, and I could just make out the faint glow of a village on the horizon.
I heard the boy lay down, his cloak splayed out beneath him. We were all shivering, trying in vain to keep warm despite the grisly conditions. I had never felt such cold before. I doubted Mane would end his snowstorm anytime soon.
I thought back on what the kid had said about the Light Kingdom. Surely no one knew that much about the Lucents without having met them. I doubted his Seer abilities extended that far.
We were quiet for a long while, my mind spinning. Despite being a jerk, this young kid laying next to me reminded me indisputably of someone I knew well, someone I loved.
“I had a friend once,” I began to say, my words trembling slightly, “He worked in the Caves where I’m from. He died, you know, drowned in the mine shaft. Became a Death Bringer at the Oracle’s hands, but I don’t think he was reborn the same. He had strange powers. Is this what happened to you? Were you - have you died before?”
The kid laughed. “No, I’m not a Death Bringer. And if I was, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“But you’ve died before,” I argued. “I know what it looks like, and it’s written all over you.”
“So you just assume every stranger you meet is a walking corpse?” The boy asked.
“It seems lately that everyone I meet is dead in some way or another,” I cried. “You speak strangely and you have knowledge larger than someone your age should possess. I can’t figure out why.”
He sat back up, his elbows balanced on his knees as he ran a bandaged hand through his curls. “If I show you what happened to me, you must promise me one thing.”
“And what’s that?” I asked.
Half-light fell across his face as he said, “You must promise me that you will forgive me for my actions.”
“I promise.” I didn’t think about the weight in my words. What terrible acts could a fourteen year old possibly have done?
He reached out his hand. With the snow still falling softly around us and Warren snoring incessantly, I wrapped my fingers through his.
The world vanished. I was aware of my body, but it was as if I had stepped away from it. I was watching a story unfold.
The boy was laying on a smoldering ground, his arms and legs splayed out as if he had been thrown hastily to the side. Debris scattered around him, lit on fire from an unseen explosion. His face was beat up, and blood sprouted like flowers across his chest. I watched as the water began to pool around him.
Minutes ticked past. The water was rising now, well past his shoulders. He sank into the flood, his eyes opening for a brief second of consciousness. He murmured a name, but I couldn’t make out what he said.
I watched with bated breath, waiting for him to rise out of the flood. Any minute now. As time ticked past I understood he was dead, long-since drowned in the flood.
No, I had been wrong before. He hadn’t drowned, for his wounds were
far too severe for him to survive. The explosion killed him.
A terrible explosion. The swallowing mass of water.
If there’s one thing the Lucent’s love, it’s a tragedy. Give them a burning hero or a boy without his wings. They’ll eat it up.
I was beginning to understand who this strange Seer boy was.
23
Boy Without His Wings
The scene shifted. I was now standing in the familiar rolling meadows of the Light Kingdom. Only, my view was shattered in fragments and I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. I saw the boy’s form as he grew and brightened, saw his wings unfold in all their glory.
Time seemed to pass. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I could feel his rising desperation as he walked amongst the Lucents. He needs me. He said over and over, like a ticking clock. Take it back.
And then, like a splatter of scarlet, a comet lacing through the sky, he passed through a breach and leaped into the endless sunlight.
Time caught up to me then, and I was aware of the sensation of falling. His wings were unraveling like thread, falling to pieces in the sky. He was spinning, falling, grabbing at the air. I watched as the feathers floated through a crystalline sky. A haunting, lonely sight.
I wished to help him, but I was trapped in my inanimate state. Back beneath the willow tree, I felt his hand tighten in mine. This was the worst part of his story. The fall.
There was a brief moment of darkness, before the boy appeared on the ground. He laid spread-eagle in the sagebrush, his chest bare except for the protruding remains of his wings. He opened his eyes and looked up into the sky, at the place he had left, as blood trickled down his face.
The sight of him would linger with me for the rest of my life. His green eyes, rising in fervent distress like those praying statues in the cathedrals, how a plume of feathers settled around him as if they hadn’t just stripped him of his flight.
My heart swelled in sudden emotion. He and I both knew what it felt like to burn. To enter the sun and jump straight back into the dark. The wreckage we leave in our wake with every step. Are his insides ash, as mine are?
