Penult (Book Four of The Liminality)

by A. Sparrow

  “Good boy!” said Urszula. “Now come!” She shrieked again and before I got myself secure in the saddle, Tigger launched himself like a rocket nearly tossing me off the precipice. Luckily, the fat man’s handholds saved me and I managed to hang on.

  “Watch me,” called Urszula, flying Lalibela directly below Tigger. “Watch my hands and feet. It is how you tell him how to go. Just do what I do!” she shouted. “Trigger learns fast. He is a smart one.”

  She jabbed both heels against the top of Lalibela’s shell and the dragonfly dropped like a stone.

  Tigger, playing monkey see, monkey do, was already dropping and following after Lalibela before I could even react. I stomped my feet anyway, figuring the beast might make an association between my signal and the action I requested.

  We fluttered all around the cloud forest, passing close to the cordon of mantid riders fending off the Cherubim who had established themselves. I was astonished to see how many bodies had accumulated on the ledges. And yet they kept on coming up the cliff face.

  “Too close!” shouted Urszula, as Lalibela dipped down to cut us off. “Watch out the slingers!”

  A hail of stones came hurtling in our direction. Tigger again reacted before I could kick, responding to his own instincts for self-preservation. We easily outraced the projectiles, cruising back to the clearing below the grotto. Under Olivier’s supervision, the Dusters had hauled my replica column halfway up the undamaged stairway. A work crew was already attempting to repair the damaged section of the stairs.

  Urszula motioned for us to return to the upper terrace and we followed her and Lalibela back up the cliffs and over the city to the meadow above the main plaza. The skinny saddle I had picked out the other day was still sitting there in the grass, but I planned to keep the one I had. Fat man saddle or not, all the extra handholds made me feel secure.

  When we landed, Urszula hopped off and came over.

  “Not bad for first flying but he is still following Lalibela mostly. Did you try for show him where to go?”

  “Um. Kind of. Not exactly. He kind of did his own thing.”

  She sighed. “Well, at least he didn’t try to dump you like the other poor fellow.”

  “What other poor fellow?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I had a friend try to ride him yesterday when you were busy. No worry. He will be okay. Bones can be fix.”

  “Bones? You know could have told me.”

  I climbed off the saddle and hopped down onto the grass.

  “If I tell you, you too scare to fly him, no?” She shrugged and walked back to her dragonfly. “So tomorrow … we go.”

  Chapter 48: John

  I blinked at Urszula, my nerves surging and waffling between anxiety and excitement.

  “So it’s decided? We’re going? Tomorrow? For sure?”

  “That is Yaqob’s wish,” said Urszula, as she unstrapped Lalibela’s saddle. “Zhang wants to wait some more time. He think somehow a truce still possible. I don’t see how. He send emissary. But the War Council is meeting again at sunset. We should both be there.”

  I didn’t know how to take this news. It would be good to get out from under this siege and off this mountain. The Cherubim were getting way too close for comfort. But I had friends at risk in New Axum. Family. Bern and Lille. Karla. Maybe even my mom.

  For once, being a Hemisoul seemed a detriment instead of an easy escape from unpleasant responsibilities. For once, I wanted to be here when the big stuff went down.

  “You know, it’s been a while. What if I fade?”

  Urszula shrugged. “No way to predict or prevent. If we go, there is nothing to be done. Whoever of us is here, will go. If I am not here. You take Lalibela. Leave Tigger behind for me. She easier to fly.”

  “Sheesh. I wasn’t counting on doing this on my own.”

  “We will not be alone. We will have Yaqob and Olivier. The scouts. Some others. It is not left up to us. But you should realize, once we leave, maybe we don’t come back. There may be no New Axum to return to here. I am not happy about what we saw on the lower terrace. The Cherubim make too much pressure. Our fighters cannot hold out for much longer. And once they have the cloud forest they will take this city easily.”

  “Are there any plans to evacuate?”

  “Not official. But some are already leaving,” said Urszula. “But it is a long trail to the marshes. Very exposed to attack. If everyone goes they will be harry, every step of the way. The loss will be big.”

  “The marshes can’t possibly hold all of these people.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Where else is there to go? Everywhere else is desert or ruins.” She pursed her lips. “There are hills around the bog. Maybe some can go there.”

  “What about … underground?”

  “Of course. There is always that. Back to the Reapers we go. Not too many will be happy about that. But maybe there is no choice. Maybe this is the end of life on the surface. Or maybe we go back to the Deeps?”

  She shared a smile that bore equal parts mischief and grief.

  I was thinking I had to warn Bern and Lille right there and then. Maybe if they got a head start they would have a better chance of reaching the next refuge unharmed. The problem was, I had no idea where to find them. I hadn’t seen them we arrived in New Axum.

  “I go now,” said Urszula. “Come back here once the sun is down. Yaqob needs you there. We need you. You need to have your say.”

  ***

  For hours I wandered through every nook and cranny of New Axum searching for Bern and Lille. I plunged deep in to the Warren, turning corners at random, not caring how lost I got as long as I kept covering new territory. All those calm and cheerful faces puzzled me. So few realized or cared how close they were to being slaughtered by the Cherubim and their overlords currently driving our fighters back across the lower terrace.

  I have to admit, I kept my eyes open for Karla too, but somehow I was not as eager to find her. Something had shifted inside me. The warmth and thrill that thoughts of her used to inspire me had dwindled and cooled like the embers in an untended fireplace.

  The blue sun hung low in the sky, but still had plenty of room to drop when I crossed over the wide lane that bisected New Axum into the ruined eastern sector where most of the newest refugees had settled because that was all that was left. So many able bodies here, I wondered why not all of them had mobilized to fight the siege. Did they not realize what was happening? Had nobody bothered to tell them?

  A young man with wild and frizzy hair hopped through a window and ran straight up to me. He held out his hand for me to shake. I was taken aback because I did not recognize him.

  “James! Do you not remember me? The name’s John. I was with you guys on the long march. Remember? When we brought the Seraph here?”

  The man looked only vaguely familiar but I pretended to know him.

  “Oh. Hey! I’ve been looking for you guys! Is Bern here with you? Bern and Lille?”

  “Bern. Oh no, they’re settling up in the heights past the plaza. Near the gardens.”

  Of course, that made sense. Those two liked their privacy. They were never the type to settle near a crowd, expect for Frelsi where they had no choice. Bern, in particular, liked to have himself a modicum of elbow room.

  “Can you … show me?”

  “Of course,” said John. He wheeled around and started up the lane. “Follow me.”

  ***

  This time, my friends had no quaint, little cabin, no pastel-painted cottage with a porch suitable for hosting tea with guests. They didn’t even own a teapot. I found Bern and Lille huddled under a sheet of canvas suspended from the branches of a tree with feathery leaves.

  They were deep in conversation when I found them and when they saw me, only Bern rose up to greet me. Lille just stared at me all red-eyed, her face streaked with tears.

  “Hey guys! Uh. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so sorry you have to see me in this state James,”
sobbed Lille.

  “We’ve just gotten a bit of bad news from the other side,” said Bern. “Lille’s doctors are planning to take her off the respirator. It seems she filed a living will not to be kept alive by artificial means. In her few lucid moments she has tried to rescind it, to no avail. One of her family members has appealed the decision, but it seems she might have only days left.”

  “You guys are both still Hemisouls?”

  “Yes. Which would mean, of course, that Lille is about to be yanked out of this existence. Off to the Deeps, most likely.”

  “Jeez! That sucks. But … maybe there’s something we can do.”

  “Like what? Go back to Frelsi? What’s left of it? As if we could even make it there intact. Is there even a mountain anymore?”

  “There are other mountains.”

  “Bah. These hills we see are all too low, too close to the core. There is no way for a soul to get free.”

  “But … what about … flying?”

  He squinted at me.

  “Flying?”

  “Yeah, sure. I mean, you don’t have to be standing on the ground to be free of the core, right? You just need to be up high enough. It’s like … gravity … for souls. I have my own dragonfly now. I could take Lille up when the time comes.”

  “They actually gave you a bug?”

  “Yeah. His name’s Tigger. He’s a bit wild still, but he’s coming around.”

  “The thing is,” said Lille. “I would need to be up high enough at the precise moment the deed is done, when they pull my plug and my heart ceases. And there is no way of knowing that from here. One can feel it happening, the transition, they say. But I rarely fade anymore, and when I do, I’m not always conscious. It was pure luck I was able to overhear the doctors speaking with my nieces. The event could be as soon as two days from now, or it could be weeks, depending on how the judge rules.”

  “Shit. I’m not gonna be here tomorrow. We’re kind of launching a raid.”

  “What about those wings?” said John.

  “What wings?”

  “The ones you made.”

  “Wings? Holy shit. The Seraph wings! You guys can use those! When you feel it happening just put them on and fly up as high as you can get. And when it happens, you’ll be a Freesoul.”

  “Me? Fly?” said Lille. “But I don’t know how to fly.”

  “You don’t need to. It’s as easy as chewing gum. And besides, you have some time. You’ll have time to practice.”

  Lille and Bern looked at each other in amazement, their faces aglow with love and hope.

  “Hang on! I’ll be right back.

  Chapter 49: Retreat

  I ran down the central lane as fast as my legs could carry me with John keeping pace at my heels. We found the promenade in chaos. Casualties from the fighting on the lower terrace were sprawled all along the rim, being triaged by flesh weavers. Some of the wounds we saw were truly—horrible: bashed in faces, shattered limbs with bones poking out.

  In the living realm, these souls would be screaming in pain, but things were different here in the Liminality. A body could withstand unfathomable beating and keep on ticking. Pain was an afterthought.

  Soldiers blocked the stairway. Work parties were busy bolstering the retaining walls along the rim with stone scavenged from ruined buildings.

  We tried squeezing through a gap in the wall but a guard held me back.

  “You don’t want to go down there mate. The Pennies are kicking our ass down there. We’re about to evacuate whoever’s left.”

  “But we need to get to the armory.”

  “Step back, please. Ain’t nobody going nowhere.”

  A Frelsian officer stepped to the fore. “What’s going on?”

  “I need to get down there. To the grotto.”

  “Not possible. Our last few units in the forest are executing a delaying action. Don’t expect them to hold up much longer.”

  “The stuff in the armory. Did they get it out in time?”

  “I seriously doubt it.” A wounded Frelsian hobbled over to us and leaned against the wall. “The bastards broke through both flanks, encircled our front line. We broke out but they pushed us all the way across the terrace.”

  “The clearing. Do we still hold it?”

  “Yeah, but not for long.”

  I burst away from the guards, hopping the makeshift wall they had thrown up to block the stairs. No one gave chase expect for John who eluded the grasp of a guard with a nifty pirouette. We flew down the stairs to the damaged first landing where the repair crews had abandoned their work half done.

  John and I picked our way carefully down the damaged sections carefully. The steps had been stripped away down to slick, steep bedrock. Sheer cliffs dropped away to the talus heaps below.

  “You really didn’t have to follow me,” I said.

  “But I want to help.”

  A series of hollow thuds erupted from the edge of the lower terrace. The Pennies had apparently transported several root cannons up onto the mountain. The projectiles they fired were shaggy and massive. The whole cliff shuddered when they struck. Sheets of rock sheered away and collapsed.

  We inched out way down, making use of whatever remained of the stairs when we could as a slow but steady barrage persisted.

  Mantid riders still patrolled the cloud forest but now they had been driven back within a stone’s throw of the clearing. Trees shuddered and fell. A battle raged unseen beneath the canopy.

  No stairs remained at the base. John and I had to hang by our fingertips and drop the final ten feet because the lowest landing had been demolished. The heavy blackout curtain that had enclosed the entrance to the grotto lay crumpled in a heap. We dashed into the cave which was awash in the last rays of the setting sun.

  Contrary to what the Frelsian soldier had told us, it looked like most of the weapons and equipment had been salvaged. The insect saddles along the side wall remained in place, but then again there were too few bugs surviving to put them to use.

  I wound my way through a mess of broken crates and empty shelving to the back of the room where I had seen the wings. More of grotto’s ceiling had come down and covered all that remained in grit and dust. I poked around and pulled up a set of wings that seemed intact. There were bits and shreds of membrane and a few salvaged joints but only one complete set.

  These were not mine, nor were they one of the copies we had fabricated. The membranes had the platinum sheen of the originals Luther had confiscated from the Seraph Petros.

  “There’s only one set, John. Here, you take them.”

  “What? Me? Nah. I ain’t putting on no wings.”

  “John, I mean it. Put these on! There’s no way you’re making it back up those stairs without them.”

  “Fuck that. You take them. You’re way more important than me.”

  “Put them on! And I want you fly straight back to the gardens and give these to Bern and Lille.”

  His jaw went slack. “What the fuck? Fly? I can’t fly.”

  “Shut up and strap on those wings!”

  Another projectile crashed low into the cliff-side and one corner of the grotto entrance collapsed. John pulled the wings over his shoulders and yanked the straps tight.

  He tried flapping his arms and not surprisingly, nothing happened.

  “This ain’t gonna work. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Use your shoulders. Just squeeze your blades together, that’s all you need to—“

  But John was already hurtling towards the ceiling of the grotto, nearly beaning his head on the stub of a stalactite.

  “Whoa! I’m … I’m doing it. I’m flying!” He careened around the cavern, eyes wide, guffawing like a goofball.

  “Gentle movements now. Flex one shoulder at a time, but go easy. Just a twitch. Just tense them up a bit. That’s it! That’s how you steer. Now get your ass out of here before this whole place comes down on us.”

  I guided him to the entra
nce and once he was out in the open air, he soared up the side of the cliff like a runaway balloon. I watched until he had safely cleared the rim and I stepped out into the clearing, my sword ready at my side as the mantid riders drifted back. An arc of trees surrounding the clearing began to shake. The shouts and grunts of battle drew near.

  Chapter 50: The Stand

  The surviving warriors—a ragtag mixture of Frelsians and Dusters—emerged in twos and threes from the cloud forest to make their last stand against the base of the cliffs. Whatever distinctions had separated their units had dissolved in the chaos of battle. I stared agog at how few they were, and how many Cherubim were pressing them through the dense stands of trees.

  I climbed atop a heap of freshly fallen talus, pointed my sword tip and summoned my will. For once my spellcraft flowed naturally and without effort. One bolus of energy after another rolled out of my core with no more resistance than a burp. I aimed specifically for the Hashmallim who, like puppet masters, guided and amplified the battle efficacy of their brainless, soulless troops. One by one, with unerring accuracy, my blasts smashed into them and struck them down, leaving them twitching and flopping on the ground like bluegills on a dock.

  Something big whistled out of the forest, struck a boulder, bounced off the ground and struck my midsection hard, knocking my wind out and bruising my ribs. Had the projectile struck me directly it would have easily disemboweled me.

  The blow only sharpened my focus and intensity. My sword sizzled with pulse after pulse. The warriors cut down these leaderless Cherubim and those that came behind them were held up by their puppeteers while they peeked around the moss-covered boles to see what was doing this to them.

  A flight of falcons popped over the rim and were immediately intercepted by a pair of dragonflies that zoomed in out of nowhere to slash and crumple their wings. One falcon made it through and sent a ballista bolt shrieking in over my head. It hovered, maneuvering around to better aim another shot at me when a mantis lunged out of the canopy and ripped it out of the sky with its fore claws.

  A huge beetle landed in the clearing. Frelsian and Duster warriors swarmed it and clambered aboard its back. Its wings exploded into action and it took off from the clearing, heading for safety on the upper terrace.