by Liz Delton
And she did. And she grinned too.
Thirty-Five
Ember hurtled back toward the rebel camp, her feet fast on the trail worn into the mountainside. An unseasonably cold breeze pushed back at her, and the warmth of the sun disappeared as enormous grey clouds swallowed it whole.
She dodged around the last rock and burst into camp. Flint, Rekha, and Ven were talking to Apex around an unlit fire, and they looked up in alarm at her sudden appearance. Apex’s hand was at his sword and he had half-risen to meet her.
“They’ve left,” she panted. “Falx took a load of Scouts out of the city. I watched the whole lot of them moving east while I was hiding in a tree.”
“East?” Apex repeated, sinking back onto the bench, his hand still unconsciously gripping the hilt of his sword.
“Meadowcity,” Ven said heavily. “Again?”
Still a little out of breath, Ember spied a water canister by Ven’s leg, and grabbed it as she sat down next to him. Having had to put up with Ven’s taunting for her lack of stealth in the woods, she’d gone for a walk. Not intending on staying out very long, she hadn’t brought any supplies with her. She gulped the water thirstily.
Everyone was silent. She didn’t want to say what they were all thinking, but the words came out of her mouth anyway. “He must be leading them there for a second try. And since he’s already got his boats...” She clamped her mouth shut.
They were going to destroy the city.
Without thinking, she laid a hand on Ven’s arm, and he met her eyes. “If you want to go, you should,” she said.
His eyes widened, but he just stared at her. His lips parted, and there was something in his gaze—
“We do it tonight, then,” Apex said, startling everyone gathered.
Rekha opened her mouth once but then closed it. Flint was dumbstruck.
“Are we ready?” Rekha asked, turning to Apex.
The great man sighed, and Rekha took his hand. “I’ll need to run a last check on the equipment, but it could be done...” he paused with a look of deep concern across his face. “We’ll have to hold another meeting and go over the assignments one last time.”
“I’ll send Luna to Meadowcity,” Ember interjected, “So they know what’s coming.”
One by one they left the fireside. Apex and Rekha split up, Apex heading for the equipment, and Rekha for the rest of the camp, to spread the word.
Her mind reeling, Ember muttered something about finding Luna, and left, but Ven caught up with her a moment later.
“I’m staying,” he said. “We have a real chance to overthrow what’s left of the Scouts. I’ll be here. I’ll be on the mission.”
Her heart rose, beating out the same rhythm it had while she had run here.
“Now, what was that about you being in a tree?” he asked, a wicked grin at his lips.
Ember burst into a peel of laughter, and turned away, her long hair flowing across her shoulders. “That’s none of your business,” she retorted with a snicker.
Thirty-Six
They followed Emrick into the hydrojet.
“We’ve been doing some looking about,” he remarked, pointing out features of the jet as if giving a tour.
Sylvia knew it was mostly for the benefit of Atlan, who seemed to understand more of it than she did. Emrick’s voice echoed off the metal grates and illuminated panels of the jet’s interior. While he plowed on about hydrogen, fuel-recycling and burn-off rates, Sylvia’s mind was whirring with ideas.
Once she could locate her drone, they could track down Greyling, and see how close he and the Scouts were to Meadowcity. She had no doubt that he would come here when he discovered she was missing, with an unexplainable gaping hole in the glass floor of her cell. Her mouth twisted into a grin as she pictured the look on Greyling’s face when he saw it.
She could see that his wrath toward her and Seascape had become mingled—too many times had Meadowcity thwarted his indescribable need for conquering the fifth city.
With a pang, she remembered her conversations with Onen, and she knew it was pointless to try and decipher what made Greyling attack his fellow cities. He was driven by something more than want or need—something like madness. All she could do now was try and predict his next move.
Sylvia’s overwhelming dread of the oncoming battle was slowly being replaced with excitement as she followed Atlan through the hydrojet.
With the help of Atlan and their fellow initiates—not to mention the technological monstrosity of the hydrojet—she thought they had a fighting chance this time. Not just to beat back Greyling, but defeat him for good. She couldn’t let another tragedy like Lightcity happen, nor the struggle that faced Riftcity. It all had to stop.
Their tour ended at the bridge, where Alice, Talia and Lena were gathered around what looked to be a control panel. The bridge was rather empty, save for the control panel in front of the enormous window looking out into the wilds. Alice, Talia and Lena looked up at their approach, and Emrick’s words and their footsteps stopped echoing as they entered the silver-paneled room.
Sylvia’s face cracked into a genuine smile when Talia actually came to hug her, followed after a moment’s hesitation by Lena and Alice.
“Where’s Colin?” Atlan asked.
“Up on the wall,” Lena replied. “Checking out the defenses.” She bit her lip, but didn’t say anything else.
Sylvia gravitated toward the control panel, suddenly feeling out of place. She hadn’t interacted with any of the other initiates outside the Trials—except Atlan of course—so she had no idea what they were actually like. The five of them risking their lives to help save her brought a wave of emotion flooding up from her heart.
Lena and Talia flopped onto the cushioned bench at the rear of the bridge, taking a break from whatever they had been doing up at the control panel. Alice leaned against a wall, arms across her chest. Sylvia met Atlan’s eyes, and he gave her a quick smile.
“Emrick,” he said. “Do you think you could help Sylvia find her drone?”
“I—I lost it,” she admitted haltingly. “When I was taken,” she added, not wanting to lose all credibility in having so quickly lost what must be a priceless artifact.
“We can find it,” Emrick said easily, sinking into a chair at the control panel. Sylvia stood there watching as he slid his fingers across the exposed datastrands, weaving in a tentative dance. She was about to ask what he was doing when he spun around in the chair and away from the panel.
“Easy. What’s the reg number?”
“‘Reg number’?” she repeated, going a little red.
“Er, the drone’s identifying number—isn’t that how you connect to it?”
Her eyebrows still creased together in confusion, she shook her head, keenly aware of the girls in the back of the bridge.
“How do you connect to it then?” Emrick asked, more out of professional curiosity this time.
“Well, I link to it,” she answered.
Emrick cocked his head. “Isn’t that hard to maintain?”
Sylvia could feel her face heating up. She shrugged, mouth clamped shut. Already feeling like an idiot for losing the drone, she didn’t appreciate Emrick’s inquisition.
“How would we know the reg number?” Atlan interceded.
“Well, they’re marked on the drone itself, but maybe...” Emrick thought for a moment.
Sylvia had an idea. “It came with a looking-glass, when she gave it to me. Would there be anything on there?”
She dug her hand into the pack she had brought with her, searching for the smooth rectangle she kept carefully tucked inside a pocket. Amelia and Vince had thankfully gathered up her belongings after she had been abducted by the Scouts, and with a start, she realized she hadn’t seen them since waking.
Emrick took the offered looking-glass and muttered, “They might have stored the data on here,” as his fingers slid across the smooth surface, bringing it to life.
Sylvia crossed
her arms and looked down at Atlan’s feet.
Quite suddenly, those feet moved toward hers, and he wrapped his arms around her.
It’s all right, he linked to her. We’ll find it.
Her eyes darted over his shoulder to the girls at the back of the bridge. Lena and Alice grinned at her, and Talia actually gave her a wink.
Wondering how her face could possibly turn even more red, she buried her face in Atlan’s shoulder until Emrick spoke again.
“Er, no, it’s not on here,” Emrick concluded, and Sylvia’s heart sank as she and Atlan slid apart.
“But I think I know how we can find it. Before you two got here, we were just thinking about going for a ride.”
* * *
They were flying.
Even though they had already been up in the skies for over an hour, Sylvia still couldn’t get over it.
She was glued to the window at the front of the bridge, gazing out at the treetops far below. They soared over the wilds, the empty spaces looking so peaceful from high above.
Beside her, Atlan was running a program through the hydrojet’s datastrands while Emrick piloted the jet. They were using the jet’s more capable link system to search for the drone in the wilds below.
So far they had found neither drone nor any sign of Greyling’s army. Sometimes Emrick dipped the jet low over open fields, or swooped between hills, much to the enjoyment of Lena, Talia and Alice.
“Colin’s going to be so mad we left without him,” Lena said after a while, peering out the wide window.
“Not our fault,” Talia laughed, elbows propped on the ledge. “He was too busy playing with swords last time I linked with him.”
Sylvia was glad the hydrojet was an unfamiliar joy to all of them, and not just her. She had forgotten what it had been like in Seascape, when she felt like an outsider, not understanding their technology and wonders. But she was learning.
That was one of the things Lady Naomi had admired about her, she recalled. It was one of the reasons—she and Atlan believed—that the Lady was content to watch as Sylvia was kidnapped, just to see how Sylvia would react, and save herself.
The tousle-haired head of the Lady’s son turned toward her, and she grinned. He had saved her. Their friends had saved her. What would the Lady think of that?
“We’ll have to head back soon,” Sylvia said after a while, noting the sun’s position near the horizon. They were all to meet with Gero and the war council that evening. It would be hard to report without any information on Greyling’s position, but defenses were being readied nonetheless.
Her heart sank a little further when Emrick turned the jet back toward Meadowcity, but then Atlan reached out and smacked her lightly on the leg. Puzzled, she looked down and saw him holding a stiff finger on the surface of her portable looking-glass, which was showing...
…Sylvia, Lena and Talia all standing dumbstruck inside the hydrojet.
Sylvia’s head snapped up. A small black bird hovered in front of the window. He had found her drone.
Emrick paused in his ministrations at the jet’s datastrands.
“Try linking,” Atlan murmured, his concentration focused on his own connection with the drone.
Without hesitation, Sylvia sent out a bright coil of light from her mind’s eye, and immediately made contact with the drone.
She bobbed it up and down, just to be sure.
“Got it,” she said, grinning at the others.
“Let’s go then,” Emrick replied, and sent the jet back toward Meadowcity. Sylvia trailed the drone below, at a far slower pace.
She regretfully led the others back to the gate once Emrick had landed and enabled the jet’s cloaking device. With a lurch of her stomach she realized that she was the only one who was armed out of all six of them. That would have to change.
They reached the gate without incident, and Sylvia’s drone bobbed above them, her mind’s eye watching them from above and searching nearby for any danger.
But the wilds were empty; there was no sight of man or animal. She suspected the enormous jet landing in their midst had something to do with the lack of bird song.
Once inside the city, Sylvia took a moment to let her drone land, and asked Emrick to show her how to properly connect with it. They had no time to waste in sending it back out to find Greyling.
Talia, Alice and Lena went in search of Colin on the wall, and were allowed up on the parapet with little question from Bolt, who was guarding the inside of the gate. Bolt turned his questioning gaze to Sylvia, who sat huddled on the grass with Atlan and Emrick, all three fiddling with the drone. She gave the Gate Keeper a smile, inwardly laughing at Bolt’s sudden shyness at strangers.
Emrick carefully turned the drone over. “Here it is,” he said, a finger on the small panel bearing several numbers.
Sylvia glanced at the number sequence, and balked.
“Store it in your datastrands,” Emrick said with a smile, correctly interpreting her expression.
Proud that she didn’t have to ask either of them how to do so, she made a note in her datastrands, having taught herself as much on her way home from Seascape over a month ago.
“Now, reach out a link, but use the numbers as your anchor. Focus on them, repeat them,” Emrick instructed.
Out of instinct, she closed her eyes, focusing on the string of numbers now seeming to glow across the inside of her eyelids. With her intentions focused on the numbers, she repeated them over and over, then sent out a silver strand of awareness.
It happened with a snap so fast she felt as if she were connecting to a second earlink. Her eyes flashed open, keenly aware of her new connection with the drone.
“You got it,” Emrick said, grinning. “I told you it was easy.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she maneuvered the drone upward with her thoughts—not even having to use her datastrands to give it commands.
“Connecting with the reg number does all the work for you; it’s like a direct line to the drone. I can even show you how to set an automatic flight pattern, if you want.”
The sight of Colin, Lena, Talia and Alice approaching made her realize they would soon be late for the meeting with the war council.
“I would love that,” she told Emrick.
The three rose to meet the others on the stone path leading to the Citizen’s Hall.
Sylvia sent the black bird straight up in the air with them. With a thought, it hurtled northward, in search of the oncoming storm.
Thirty-Seven
The war council crowded into Gero’s office instead of one of the more spacious meeting rooms. Atlan understood the Governor’s want for discretion on a day like today. People were afraid.
He and Sylvia perched themselves on a low cabinet against the side wall, and waited for the remaining people to filter in. Alice, Emrick and Talia found places beside them, and Colin and Lena leaned against the wall.
Atlan only recognized a few faces in the room; Neve and Sylvia’s father Lark were the only ones whose names he knew besides the Governor’s. Lark had gotten here early enough to claim a chair at Gero’s table, and had his nose buried in a well-creased map as he waited.
By his side, Sylvia had her eyes half-closed as she no doubt maneuvered her drone far out in the wilds, searching for the army.
Several glass lamps glowed cheerfully in their brackets hung from the wood-paneled walls. The sky had grown dark with a coming storm.
Atlan was keenly aware of Sylvia’s leg resting gently against his, and he wondered if she, too felt the warmth radiating off of their touch.
It was then that Gero called everyone’s attention by shutting the door with a snap.
The Governor toddled up to his desk, walking as if he was used to bearing more weight, yet was suddenly without it. Atlan watched him tuck his hands into his waistcoat pockets to stop himself from fidgeting with the ring on his left hand.
Gero looked at his chair as if he might sit, then decided against it, and instead
offered the seat to the closest person without one.
He rocked onto his toes, and began. “The time is finally upon us,” he said to the silent room, packed though it was with people. “Greyling and his army are headed our way—something we are in the process of verifying.” His and a few others’ eyes flicked toward Sylvia, who still sat as if in meditation, her mind soaring across the wilds, searching.
“We believe he intends to advance toward Seascape after striking here. He would no doubt fail in the fifth city, but we can’t let him take any more lives on his way to his own destruction. Which is why I wish to focus this meeting on defense, as we have always done.”
Voices broke out then, and Gero’s face showed no surprise. It was clear that many in the war council favored the opposite, and Atlan silently agreed with them.
“What use is defense at a time like this?” a gruff Hunter called. “Even with a handful of those explosives, they could raze the city to the ground. We were lucky last time—there’s nothing stopping them now.” Roars of both agreement and disapproval followed the Hunter’s words, but he spoke no more.
Then a woman stood, drawing the room’s eyes. “A lot of you have only heard of what he did in Riftcity,” she paused, letting the chatter die down. “But if you’d seen it, you’d want to strike them down long before they’re at your door.”
Atlan had seen it on the vids at home—of what happened in Riftcity, and the destruction of Lightcity. He couldn’t help but think that Meadowcity would burn much faster.
The woman continued. “Before the war, I was a Hunter. The only thing I ever killed were beasts in the wilds, and never for sport.”
“These Scouts,” she spat it like a dirty swear word. “Kill and maim for fun. In the name of Greyling’s quest, for some—some twisted unification. And when they took our city, it didn’t matter who I was or what I was capable of. Their wolves and mountain lions didn’t care if you were human or animal. The Scouts would just let them rip out your throat if you stepped out of line.”
