A World of Secrets (The Firewall Trilogy)

by James Maxwell

  The menacing presence of the barrier fell away behind them. Ungar stayed silent, preoccupied with searching the terrain. After some time, Ingren glanced over her shoulder to see that the barrier was now just a line of reddened sky above the horizon.

  She gazed ahead once more. They were approaching an escarpment, where the ground fell away in an abrupt drop. Ungar was forced to change his path, and soon they were following a long series of cliffs that loomed over the plain far below. They walked just a short distance from the edge; there were few bonded Ingren had known to be afraid of heights.

  Ingren heard a piercing shriek and her eyes immediately roved to find the source. She focused on several large, winged creatures with red bodies, soaring below the escarpment.

  “Did you see? Wyverns,” Ungar called back to her.

  Ingren watched the wyverns circle over a section of the cliffs where they must have built their nests. She was fascinated to actually see them in the flesh. All the wyverns were long gone from the places she knew.

  The cliffs curved back and forth, jagged and broken so that Ingren could peer all the way down to the bottom. She took note of a long series of caves. Tracing back up, she decided there was an area where the slope wasn’t as steep; she and Ungar should be able to make their way down.

  “I think I’ve found somewhere we can store our suits.”

  “Yes, yes,” Ungar grunted.

  Ungar was preoccupied, walking with his head low to the ground and inhaling through his nose. Ingren decided not to distract him and kept her thoughts to herself as the two suns fell toward the horizon, the red sun chasing the golden, each vying to be the first to reach their beds on the other side of the world.

  Despite Ungar’s confidence, Ingren’s worry resurfaced. This was an ancient rite of passage, and Ungar and the marshals whose number he wanted to join took it seriously. Ungar would not stop until he had his five trophies, and would insist they came from the most powerful and prominent members he could find from each of the wasteland’s five races. He had a strong sense of honor, even for a bonded warrior. Another warrior might kill the first bax or mantorean he found, but Ungar would do everything in his power to ensure his opponents were worthy of his spear.

  Ungar had a particular fascination with humans. Humans weren’t as strong as trulls, but they were numerous, and tended to specialize. Ungar had become excited when his surveillance discovered the humans traveling in this area. One in particular was a strong specimen: tall and athletic, with bristling brown hair, a square jaw, and a steel sword worn at his waist.

  Ingren knew from her research that a steel sword would be rare and valuable in the wasteland, undoubtedly a weapon to be fought over. If the tall human carried a steel blade, rather than wood or bone, he must be a capable fighter. Almost certainly, he would be skilled in the art of combat.

  “Wait,” Ungar said sharply. He continued to sweep the ground, moving his neck from side to side while he sniffed. His face was low as he took a deep breath through his nose. “I smell something. This way.”

  Ungar picked up speed and Ingren hurried after him. They left the escarpment behind and she followed him over the rocky ground, through fields of boulders, and up and down rolling hills. Lizards scurried out of the way. Narrow-faced birds wheeled and cawed overhead. After hours of hurried travel, Ungar came to a halt at the top of a hill.

  Ingren caught up to him, breathing hard. She followed Ungar’s gaze. He was looking down at the remains of a wooden building surrounded by a ditch. It had once been enclosed by a tall fence, but most of the fence was ruined. In the past, fire had claimed what appeared to be a primitive house, leaving behind charred timbers, and a few pieces of snagged cloth that fluttered in the breeze. The beams that made up the roof had collapsed onto the structure below.

  Curious, Ingren scanned the tiny cactuses and spiky razorgrass poking up through the ruins. It was easy to think that nothing lived in the wasteland. This was her first sign of intelligent life. From her studies, she knew that skalen lived in dark caves, and mantoreans and trulls were nomadic. Most likely, either humans or bax had built this homestead.

  “This was abandoned long ago,” Ingren said.

  “That may be,” Ungar said. “But the trail is fresh.”

  “Are you—?”

  “Yes,” he said flatly. “I am sure.”

  Ingren watched as he left the hill and began to circle the homestead. He kept his distance, head low to the ground, sniffing for the trail he had followed to this place. He lifted his head and called to her.

  “I have the scent.” He pointed. “This way.”

  “Is it them? The humans?” Ingren asked.

  He was already striding away, and called over his shoulder. “Yes, Ingren. Now come. I am about to collect my first head.”

  4

  “I still say we should follow the firewall.” Vance anxiously smoothed his moustache. “It might take longer, but it’s safer.”

  Vance led from the front while Taimin and Lars brought up the rear. Taimin’s right foot was aching already. He knew the others would be able to see him limping worse than usual. At least the swelling had gone down overnight. He was just going to have to grit his teeth and bear it.

  They were following the bottom of the cliffs, which gradually lost height as they traveled. Taimin gave a slight smile when he saw the way Vance scanned the terrain and checked the sky, bow held at the ready. As usual, the former weapons trader was trying to prove that he could handle himself in the wasteland.

  “The only way to be safe is to be quick,” Ruth said. She glanced at Vance as she walked just behind him. “The firewall curves. The fastest way to the other side of a circle isn’t to follow the edge.”

  “There’s less danger near the firewall—”

  “Don’t pretend you know the wasteland.”

  “And you do?” Vance asked curtly.

  “I haven’t spent my whole life in a city.”

  “Quiet!” Lars growled from Taimin’s side.

  Nonetheless, Taimin heard Vance mutter, “I just think that if we follow the firewall there’s less chance we’ll get lost.”

  Taimin decided to speak up. “Ruth is right. We need to get there quickly. We’ll follow these cliffs to the riverbed and then we’ll know we’re on the right path. We have a map. We won’t get lost.”

  Vance turned back to meet Taimin’s eyes. “But the firewall—”

  “Is safer,” Taimin interrupted, “but only to a point.”

  Vance clenched his jaw. He shook his head and spoke under his breath, but everyone could hear him. “There could be anything out there. It’s not like we can see what’s up ahead.”

  “Vance . . .” Ruth said. Her cautioning tone made him look back at her. Ruth glared at him and then looked pointedly at Selena. Taimin saw Selena’s face in profile. Her expression was carefully blank.

  Vance flushed. “I didn’t mean—”

  “You know she would farcast if she could,” Ruth said.

  “That’s not what I was trying to say,” Vance protested.

  “Enough!” Lars brought the conversation to a halt.

  Taimin saw that Lars’s expression was worried as he scratched at his thick black beard. The big, bald skinner had survived the wasteland for longer than any of them, and Taimin trusted his instincts.

  “Can you walk any faster?” Lars asked bluntly. He scanned the flat plain bordered by the cliffs. It was midmorning and Dex was rising, which meant that the sun’s golden rays all came from the same direction. “We need to get past this cliff. Our shadows mark us out.”

  Taimin looked at the cliff. Rather than a sheer wall of rock towering above, it was now lower and made of pale, crumbling chalk. Every member of the group had an enlarged silhouette marked against the white face. With a grimace, he tried to pick up his pace. “Better?”

  “Not really.” Lars’s gaze continued to sweep the horizon. “I don’t like being exposed like this.”

  Selena slowed to
wait for Taimin and Lars. “It’s fine, Taimin,” she said. “We’re all tired.”

  Taimin felt tension in his shoulders. “Lars is right. We need to get past these cliffs. I’m slowing everyone down.”

  He didn’t like the situation. Trouble was best avoided. Following the cliff had been a good idea; threats could only approach from one direction. He could never have known that their shadows against the white background would make them so visible.

  “Wait,” Lars said sharply. He was squinting; looking into the golden sun made it hard to see anything on the plain. “What’s that?”

  Taimin’s head snapped to the side. He stared where Lars was looking. Tiny tears formed in his eyes. His breath caught as he saw figures, but they shimmered like mirages. He soon realized they were becoming bigger. Then, a few seconds later, he could make out detail.

  “Blast it,” Lars swore.

  Taimin now saw a dozen or more man-sized shapes. They had spread out, making it clear that the group of humans had been spotted. “Vance! Ruth!” he cried.

  The running figures became larger still. There were at least twelve . . . perhaps fifteen. Taimin’s group was outnumbered. The figures had squat, toad-like bodies, thicker in the torso than humans, and ran with a hunched posture. A thick spine ridge was their most distinguishing feature, and they wore armor of hardened leather.

  Taimin’s heart raced. He was looking at a war party. Each squat figure carried an axe, club, or sharp wooden spear. Most were males with blemished skin, but there were a few females with pinkish cheeks; all had deep-set eyes.

  “Hurry up!” Lars yelled at Vance and Ruth. “Bax!”

  Taimin shot a glance at Lars. “There’s too many of them.”

  Lars spoke swiftly. “Bax are followers. We have to capture the leader. It’s the only way.”

  Urgency fired through Taimin’s veins. He gave a sharp nod. “I’ll take him out.”

  Lars was right. Taimin had to seize the initiative. He swiftly drew his sword from the scabbard at his waist. Without waiting for acknowledgement, he began to walk forward. At his back he heard his companions readying their weapons.

  Taimin singled out the leader – a bax with a thick neck, powerful shoulders, and a purple stain on the side of his face. The warriors on either side of him followed in a ragged line. The bax leader hefted his axe as he charged. He was brave and well ahead of his group, eager to be the first to make a kill.

  “Stop!” Taimin bellowed.

  He had addressed the crowd in the arena in Zorn, and knew how to make his voice heard. But when nothing changed, he readied his sword. It would be difficult to capture the leader without killing him.

  He heard a whirring sound.

  Surprised, he cast a quick glance over his shoulder to see Ruth whirling several lengths of braided leather over her head. Weighted with stones, the cords flew above her in a blur.

  Ruth let go.

  Her weapon crackled as it shot forward and struck the purple-faced bax in his torso, wrapping around his limbs as his momentum carried him forward. The leader crashed to the ground and lost his axe. Before the bax knew what was happening, Taimin had closed the distance and pressed his sword point into his throat to force him onto his back.

  “I said stop!” Taimin roared.

  The rest of the bax faltered when they saw Taimin standing over their leader. One after another they came to a halt, chests heaving as Taimin leveled his gaze at them all. Meanwhile Taimin knew that his companions stood behind him, ready to fight.

  “Wait.” He scowled. “All of you, wait.”

  The expressions he saw were more puzzled than anything else. It was common for humans and bax to attack each other on sight. But at least Taimin had caused them to hesitate. He had their attention.

  Taimin glared down at the leader on the ground. The bax scowled up at him and spoke in a rough, gravelly voice.

  “Why not kill me, human?”

  Lars spoke up. “Trust me, my friend here can fight you all on his own. But if he chooses not to, I would listen to what he has to say.”

  The members of the war party now had time to think. Most were warily watching Taimin. A few glanced past him at Vance, Lars, Selena, and Ruth.

  “What should we do, Hagrax?” a bax with a thorn-studded club asked the leader.

  Taimin tried not to show it, but the fact that the other warriors were looking to the leader gave him hope. Everything now rested on Hagrax, and whether he was intelligent enough to talk his way out of his predicament.

  “If I die, avenge me,” Hagrax replied. He narrowed his eyes at Taimin, despite the leather cord entangling him and sword point pressed against his throat.

  Taimin’s mind was working. He remembered when he was searching for the city with Selena and Lars and kept encountering bax. They were territorial, and didn’t travel without good reason.

  “This is a war party. Where are you going?” When Hagrax didn’t answer, Taimin pushed his sword point harder against his neck. “Answer me.”

  Hagrax scowled. “To the city, Zorn.”

  “Why?”

  Hagrax’s dark eyes met Taimin’s. “Word is the city’s soldiers were killed in a rebellion. If we are to strike, now is the time.” He glanced meaningfully toward his followers; they still outnumbered Taimin’s group three to one. “If you don’t like it, kill me and see what happens next.”

  Taimin was worried. He knew how precarious the situation in the city was. But there was supposed to be peace between Zorn and the bax who lived nearby. “Blixen would never agree to it. There’s been a truce.”

  “Blixen will not remain warden of the Rift Valley forever.”

  “You don’t have the numbers,” Taimin said.

  “You think this is all we have?” Hagrax shifted position and sat up. As the bax began to untangle himself, Taimin moved his sword to keep him pinned in place, but still Hagrax didn’t stop. “Now, human, I think you have a decision to make.”

  Taimin had been prepared to consider himself satisfied if no one lost their lives. Yet he hadn’t been expecting Hagrax’s revelation. If he let the bax depart, they would go on to threaten Zorn.

  It was Lars who spoke. “Our group is smaller than yours, but we can fight. Best thing for us all is to pretend we never met.”

  Hagrax watched Taimin, waiting for him to speak, but Taimin said nothing. “I can do that,” he said slowly.

  Taimin’s frustration grew, but there was nothing else he could do. He removed his sword from Hagrax’s throat and took a step back. “You have your freedom. Go.”

  Hagrax climbed to his feet. With a last look of venom at Taimin he grabbed his axe and waved his arms to gather his warriors. Soon they were loping away.

  Vance was watching Ruth as she collected her leather weapon and fastened it around her waist. “Where did you learn to do that?” he asked.

  “My mother taught me. Before we moved to Zorn.”

  “What do you call it?” Vance asked.

  “A grapple.”

  “You probably saved our lives,” Taimin said. As he sheathed his sword, he searched the horizon for a time, pondering.

  Word was out. The bax scattered across the wasteland knew that the Protector of Zorn had fallen, and that with him the feared city guard was gone. Zorn was now a target.

  At the same time, the knowledge only served to increase Taimin’s determination to reach his destination. Without a reliable water source, the people of Zorn had no future. Meanwhile, the wasteland’s five races were constantly fighting over scarce resources and the few places where they might be safe.

  On the other side of the firewall, new lives would be possible, not just for humans, but for everyone. Taimin had to do everything he could to find a way to get there.

  5

  Taimin climbed the slope of a gully. A powerful river had once flowed in the very place he was walking, so wide that a stone couldn’t be thrown across its breadth, and deep enough to form tall, steep banks. After days of hard tr
avel, pain crept up his leg with each step, but he had controlled it for half his life and forced it to the back of his mind. Late afternoon sunlight cast long shadows behind him on the deep gully’s floor, where smooth stones littered the ground.

  Lars had gone to scout the terrain from higher ground, but he should have been back long ago. Creases lined Taimin’s forehead as he approached the top of the bank and thought about all the ways Lars might have got himself into trouble. He came to a halt and stared in all directions. There was only one place that commanded a decent view, and he squinted against the sunlight until he saw Lars’s bald head, poking up above a tall hump-shaped rock to leave the rest of his body hidden. Taimin had no idea how Lars had made his way up so high. The skinner must have found a series of ledges on the other side.

  Taimin’s jaw remained clenched. For Lars to have been looking for so long, he must have seen something.

  As Lars’s head turned his way, Taimin knew better than to wave. He kept himself a little below the top of the slope. He was sure Lars had seen him, but after a quick glance the skinner returned to whatever he was watching. For a time Lars was motionless, with his attention focused back the way they had come. Then his head ducked down, so that Taimin could no longer see him.

  Taimin wondered where Lars had gone, but then saw a flicker of movement as the big skinner dashed from one hulking boulder to the next, his deft movements belying his age and size. Taimin spun round to scan the landscape, in the direction Lars had been looking. He couldn’t see anything. Deciding he shouldn’t stay so visible, he skittered back down the slope.

  Selena stood waiting for him and her brow furrowed when she saw his face. Ruth was at Selena’s side, while Vance was farther back with his bow in hand.

  “What is it?” Selena asked.

  “I don’t know,” Taimin said. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I think Lars has seen something.”