Текст книги "The Earth Dwellers"

Автор книги: David Estes

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

When I’ve furiously blinked away the blurriness, she’s got her shirt back on and has once more turned to face me. “I don’t fear him anymore,” she says. “He’s taken everything he can from me. The only thing I fear is never being free of him, being his plaything for the rest of my life.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I say. “Tristan is outside the Glass City. He’s gathering an army of the natives. If I can find a way to get them inside the city, we will crush Lecter.”

“My son,” she says, and there’s pure joy in her eyes. Knowing he’s alive, that he’s nearby. The best gift I could possibly give her without delivering her to him. “And Killen?” she says.

I shake my head. It shouldn’t be me to tell her—it shouldn’t be anyone.

“Tell me everything,” she says. “Starting with how my husband died.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Siena

The wounded’ve been bandaged, the dead’ve been buried. Surprisingly few died in the Cotee attack—maybe twenty—but no one avoided getting bitten or scratched. Except Skye, who, according to Feve, killed fifty Cotees herself. He said it was like the sun goddess had entered her body, giving her power and strength beyond her own. I’d say he was exaggerating if he wasn’t talking ’bout Skye.

Grunt didn’t die. He was one of the runners, turning tail the moment the Cotees came over the hill. I ain’t blaming him—he ain’t no warrior. I’m glad for him having the sense to let the fighters do the fighting. I couldn’t bear to tell Veeva he didn’t make it, ’specially ’fore we even got to the real battle. Hopefully most of our people stick around when it comes time to attack the Glassies.

We all know we’ve lingered ’ere too long. Nothing’s changed. Tristan told us to attack on the third day. We hafta move.

Wilde leads us away from the piles of dead Cotees. If any of us survive the day, we’ll come back to collect the meat. Though they tried to kill us, we won’t disrespect ’em by letting their bodies go to waste.

I’m limping and Circ’s trying to hide his limp. Hopefully a bit of walking will help the pain.

We head further east, making searin’ sure that we come in from the northeast, where the Glassies’ll least expect it. I’m hoping they’ll think we’re the ghosts of the Icers and drop their weapons and flee before us. If we had some mud paint and scary masks, maybe we could give it a go.

I’m ’bout to tell Circ my brilliant idea, when Wilde stops, her hand in the air. I crane my neck to see what’s snatched her attention.

The forest. The huge, huge forest that extends all the way to storm country. And beyond that, to water country. We’ve reached the very eastern edge of fire country. Only one way to go now.

I grab Circ’s hand and pull him to the front of the column, coming up next to Wilde and Skye. “So we head south now?” I ask.

“I thought I saw something,” Wilde says absently.

“What kinda something?” I say.

She shakes her head. “Nothing. It was probably nothing.”

“’Cause if it’s a bunch of pale-faced Glassies, you should probably tell us,” I say.

“It’s okay. Let’s keep moving. We’ll angle our way to the edge of the forest from here.” Wilde continues on, and we follow, but not until I catch Skye’s eye.

“Did you see anything?” I ask her.

“No,” she says. “If there was a Glassy to be seen, I’da seen him.”

I don’t doubt that.

The stretch of sand and durt ’tween us and the forest disappears a little with each step, until we’re in the shadows of the trees, stretching out like dark clouds underfoot. I walk with Skye on one side and Circ on t’other. Wilde walks alone, and I swear she keeps flicking her eyes to the trees, like at any moment a Glassy fire chariot might burst through the leaves.

A bird chirps from a branch somewhere above us. Wilde stops, looks up.

“It was just a bird,” I say. Why is Wilde being so paranoid?

“I just thought…” Wilde says. As if in response to the first bird, another one chirps further down. Wilde’s eyes widen in horror.

The leaves rustle and there’s a sharp whistle and a rush of air, and the pointer’s coming so fast that we’re all frozen…

Thunk!

Feather’s protruding, the pointer sticks in the ground at our feet. “Get down!” Wilde yells and there’s scrambling and scraping and the shriek of weapons being drawn, and I’ve got my bow out, pointer nocked, but there’s nothing to shoot at but trees, and we’re sitting ’zards out in the open desert like this.

Nobody moves. Nobody breathes. The forest is silent.

Then there’s a laugh and I think we all ’bout jump outta our skins, ’cept maybe Skye, who don’t seem to know the meaning of the word scared.

“Don’t shoot,” a voice says. It’s as familiar as the durt stuck to my moccasins.

Nobody moves. Nobody breathes.

“Wilde, tell your shooters to relax.”

Wilde looks at me, her mouth open slightly, dips her chin. And then, of all things, she stands. “Shooters! Stand down,” she says.

I drop my bow ’cause there’s something ’bout the voice in the woods…

A black-skinned girl steps from the tree cover, her dark robe floating ’round her heels. Holy tugballs! I know that girl, ’cause that girl is Sadie.

~~~

After the initial excitement dies down, we gather ’round to talk. The Stormer Riders are watering their horses and pretending like there’s not a huge army of brown-skinned people setting in the durt, gawking at ’em.

I’m ’bout to burst with excitement and questions, but Circ’s squeezing my hand so tight I know he’s telling me to be patient. I ignore him. “Sadie, what in the name of the holy god of all things surprising are you doing here?” I ask.

Sadie looks at Wilde, who merely shrugs at her. “We’ve come to fight,” she says.

“Fight who?” I ask, remembering the pointer stuck in the durt at Wilde’s feet.

“Whoever needs to be fought,” Sadie says. She looks at the giant Stormer setting beside her, Gard I think his name is.

“You can tell them,” Gard says. “You were the one who garnered the support of the Riders.”

“Well, it wasn’t just me. Remy helped, too.” She nods at the dark, lean guy setting on her other side, the one whose smile seems to come easier’n a hot day in fire country. If I remember correctly, they had some kinda a thing going, like what Circ and I have. “We talked a lot about what you”—Sadie gestures to Wilde—“said when you arrived in storm country. About how these people…the Glassies?...were threatening all the tribes. How they’d start in fire and ice country and then move to water and storm country. Remy and I decided we better do something about it before it came to all that.”

“And then, unbeknownst to me, you convinced the vast majority of the Riders that this was the wisest course of action,” Gard says. The twinkle in his eye doesn’t match his words. Is he angry or does he find it funny?

“In the end you agreed, Father,” says Remy.

“You could have talked to me first. I would have listened,” Gard says.

“What difference does it make?” Sadie says. “We’re here now, aren’t we?”

I want to laugh at the almost identical look of embarrassment that flashes across Remy’s and Gard’s faces. But I don’t ’cause I’m trying to be all serious the way Wilde and Skye are.

“We’re glad you’re here,” Wilde says. She tells ’em about the Icers.

“Mother Earth,” Sadie says. “This is real, isn’t it?”

“Why are they doing this?” Gard says.

Wilde shrugs. “They fear what they don’t understand.”

“And their leader’s a searin’ baggard,” I add helpfully.

“There’s that, too,” Wilde says, smiling grimly. “And what of the Soakers? Did they have an opinion?”

I lean in, curious for Jade’s sake. After all, the last thing she did in storm country was kiss that Soaker boy, Huck Jones. If he’s hiding in them trees, it’ll be another person I’ll have to protect. And the person I’ll be protecting him from is Skye, who’s leaning in too, her eyes gleaming.

“Admiral Jones agreed with us,” Gard says. “He tried to convince the other captains but couldn’t get a majority. After the way his father led, he refuses to force them to do anything they don’t want to.”

“I don’t blame him,” Wilde says. Skye and I lean back at the same time. I guess we’ll be saving that fight for another time.

I glance at the sky above. Time’s a-wastin’; the sun’s already over its peak. Who knows where Tristan is, whether he’ll come through for us, but we’ve gotta hold up our end of the bargain. “Uh, Wilde,” I say.

“I know,” she says. “We can’t delay any further. It’s time to move on the Glass City.” We stand as one. “We’d be honored to fight with you by our sides,” Wilde says to Gard, extending a slender hand.

Gard grabs it, his hand looking like that of a giant next to Wilde’s. “We shall be victorious,” he says.

“And go with honor and strength,” Sadie says.

The way they say these words, I can tell they’re more’n just words to ’em. They’re important. Maybe they’ll help us in some way we can’t fully understand yet.

I think there’s a lot I don’t fully understand, that I haven’t come to terms with. It’s like I can’t get my pebble-sized brain ’round the magnitude of what we’re ’bout to do, like this is just another day and tomorrow I’ll wake up and hug Circ and curse Perry and crack jokes with my sisters…

But it ain’t just another day. This is THE DAY. More’n likely the last one. There’s so much I need to do.

While the Stormer leaders go to organize the Riders, and Wilde and Feve begin preparing our people for the final leg of the journey, I grab Skye’s arm. She looks at my hand and then at me. “Siena, don’t,” she says.

“I hafta,” I say.

“You don’t hafta do nothin’.”

“Don’t make me hurt you,” I say, pulling her into a hug.

At first she struggles against me, all hard and sharp angles, but then she softens, squeezes back. “You ain’t dyin’,” she says.

“Then neither are you,” I say.

Still locked in an embrace we pull back, looking at each other. “Siena, I—I might hafta put myself in more danger to do what I gotta do.”

I glare at her. “I’ll chase on after you wherever you go.”

“Promise me you won’t,” she says.

“I can’t,” I say. “I ain’t gonna live without you. Not again.”

“Oh sun goddess,” she says, trying to look angry but failing at it. “You can be so burnin’ stubborn sometimes.”

“I get it from you,” I say. We hug once more and then she just walks away, toward the front, where Wilde and Feve are waiting.

Circ’s standing nearby, the sun browning his skin and showing off the muscles of his bare chest. “Looking smoky,” I say, whistling. “Just hanging out there looking pretty?” He should laugh. He’d usually laugh. He walks over. Serious Circ. “Don’t,” I say, realizing I sound just like Skye even as I say it.

“Don’t what?” he says, putting an arm ’round me.

“Don’t make a big thing outta this.”

“Like you just did with Skye?” he says. “Siena, I’ll make a big thing out of this, because it is a big thing. You are a big thing. You’re everything.”

“I’m just me,” I say.

“You’re all I want,” Circ says. “All I ever wanted. And now…”

“Now you’ve got me and there ain’t no fire-stick-wielding Glassy gonna change that. So let’s give ’em scorch, you and me, just like the old days.”

Finally, Circ laughs, ’cause he can’t help it ’round me. “Okay,” he says, pulling me into a big ol’ hug.

A rumble of thunder and a cloud of dust fill the air as hundreds of Riders gallop past us, toward the front of the column. And still we go on holding each other, just a moment longer, then another. If this is the last time I’ll ever hold him, I’d better make it good.

Finally, when my people have already started marching, and the Riders are leading the way, and the whole world is dangling from the edge of a cliff, we pull away.

The world can end now. I’m ready.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Tristan

The transporters will make five trips to the surface, carrying fifty soldiers with each go. They’ll be a mixture of sun, moon, and star dweller men and women, hand selected by the leaders in each subchapter. Although I’ve warned the leaders about the toxicity of the air, we’ve all agreed that masks won’t be necessary for such a short amount of exposure. Soon we’ll all either be dead or inside the filtered atmosphere of the Dome. In five hours we’ll have nearly ten thousand troops positioned throughout the desert, all around the New City, surrounding it.

All the soldiers and their leaders have been briefed about what to expect up there, how hot it is, how big everything looks, but they won’t fully appreciate it until they see it for themselves.

I don’t know if it will be enough, but we can’t risk delaying the attack any longer. If the people of the Tri-Tribes get there first…

I don’t even want to think about the bodies in the sand. Seeing the Icers like that was enough tragedy for a lifetime.

I’m about to leave the palace when she walks in through the front door, like she owns the place. Her posture is upright, her face stern, her uniform unwrinkled. She’s a leader and a soldier, through and through.

“I was wondering when I’d see you,” I say.

“I was busy keeping my soldiers’ emotions in check,” General Rose says, “and I figured you were even busier.” Then she smiles, and she’s not a general, just a person, the mother of the girl I love. “Tristan, thank God you’re alive.”

To my surprise, she steps closer and hugs me, her embrace far warmer than I expected it to be. “Uh, thanks. You too.”

“We’ll find Adele, even if we have to smash every last pane of glass in the New City,” she says. How does she know that behind my façade of leadership, my every waking, aching thought is of her daughter?

“I know,” I say, even though I don’t.

Pulling away, she says, “The first Capitol transporter just left for the surface. The other subchapters have sent theirs too.” I’m amazed at how quickly she switches roles, from general to mother to friend, and back again, like they’re cloaks she can swap in the blink of an eye.

“Good,” I say. “We’ll be on the last one.”

She nods. “I want my daughter to be there,” she says.

I don’t understand. Where does she want Adele to be?

“Elsey,” she clarifies. “She refuses to be left behind and I won’t have it any other way. She marched to the Capitol with my soldiers, stayed at the very back with the medics and cooks.”

“It’s not safe,” I say. “And there’s only limited space. We need every—”

“—soldier we can fit,” she says, finishing for me. “She’s getting big, but I’m sure I can carry her on my shoulders for a half hour if I need to. This isn’t a request.”

I think of what it will mean to Adele to have her whole family together soon after we find her. “And she’ll stay in the cave when we march on the city?”

“Of course,” the general says.

“Done,” I say. “Roc and Tawni can look after her.”

“Did my nose just itch?” a voice says from the corridor. Roc walks in, holding Tawni’s hand loosely.

Tawni immediately goes to Anna and hugs her. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you in person again,” Tawni says.

At that, General Rose laughs. “I might be getting old, but I’m still tough. And I suspect you’re made of tougher stuff than anyone thinks.”

“Trust me,” Roc says, interjecting, “we all know the kind of stuff Tawni’s made of. I can’t say anything fresh without getting a palm print tattooed on my cheek.”

“He gets slapped a lot,” Tawni says.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Anna says.

“Because it’s Roc,” I say, without blinking.

“Soooo,” Roc says, “why did I hear my name? And Tawni’s too?”

“You’re babysitting Elsey while the big kids go fight,” I say. “You’ve been volunteered.”

Roc frowns. “By whom?”

“Me,” I say, punching him in the shoulder.

He sighs. “I’m sure my presence and wooden sword will be missed on the battlefield,” he says, “but I am injured.”

“Good,” I say, glad to hear him agree without a fight. Even if everyone else I care about will be in danger today, at least Roc and Tawni and Elsey will be safe.

~~~

Time passes with the speed of an inter-Realm night train. Transporter after transporter leaves from what used to be the secret cave on the outskirts of the Capitol, and which now is as well known a place as the palace.

We cram as many soldiers as we can fit into each load, just like all the other subchapters are doing. The half-hour ride to the surface will be cramped and miserable, but surely no one’s thinking about that right now.

I shake the hands of each man and woman that board the transporter, thanking them. It’s strange to see sun dwellers and moon dwellers and star dwellers mixed together, like they’re no different from one another, like they weren’t trying to kill each other not so long ago. When I look into their eyes, I can’t tell the difference. They’re just people. Just soldiers. Why were they fighting in the first place? I’m not sure anyone really knows the answer.

I could have gone ahead with the first load because I’ve been to the surface before, but I’d rather make sure everything runs smoothly, that everyone leaves on schedule.

When the next to last transporter shoots up the glass tube, into the rock-lined tunnel, and out of sight, I sit with my back against the wall and close my eyes.

I see nothing but her. Her sparkling green eyes grim with determination. Her knuckles white as she grips the gun. A swirl of shimmering, obsidian hair as she turns, aims…

BOOM!

The eruption is sharp and real in my memory, but even it’s a lie. When Adele shot the monster who was my father, I didn’t even know it was happening because Roc was gasping for air, bleeding from a self-inflicted stab wound in his gut. Dying.

But not dead.

When I hear the camouflaged gate to the not-so-secret cave whir open, so do my eyes. The image of Adele’s face fades as I blink away the false memory.

Tawni and General Rose enter, talking like old friends. Behind them, Elsey grips Roc’s hand, swinging it. When she sees me, her eyes light up.

“Tristan!” she says.

She releases Roc and runs to me, her one arm swinging awkwardly and slightly off-balance, hugging me around the waist. As I squeeze her tightly to me, the gesture feels so…normal. Like I’ve hugged Adele’s sister a million times over a million years. Like I’ve known her my whole life and like we never left to assassinate my father.

“I missed you, Else,” I say, feeling my chest tighten at the sight of the stump that used to be an arm jerking and almost reaching out. Like it wants to hug me too, not understanding why it’s not able to anymore, why it’s not long enough to do so. Because of my father’s command. The one that killed Ben and maimed Elsey.

“I missed you, too,” she says, looking up. “I prayed for you every night.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise, still gritting my teeth at the memory of Elsey bleeding on the floor, screaming and screaming until the shock and the pain sent her into a fitful sleep. “You did?”

Elsey nods fervently. “You and Adele and Tawni and—”

“Not Roc?” I say, feigning astonishment. “Tell me you didn’t pray for him, too.”

She giggles and swats at me. “Of course I did. I prayed the most for Roc after he got hurt.”

“He stabbed himself, you know.”

“To save your sorry a—” Roc starts to say.

“Language,” I say, cutting him off.

Elsey giggles again. “I’ve heard worse than that, you know,” she says, matter-of-factly.

I’m sure she has. When her parents and Adele were dragged from their home and sentenced to life in prison, Elsey was taken to an orphanage in a rough part of the Moon Realm. Not an ideal place for a ten-year-old to grow up. I plaster a smile on, even though every muscle in my face is trying to pull my lips into a frown.

“Even still,” I say, “Roc should be kept away from children whenever possible.”

“I’m not a child,” she says, hands on her hips. “And Roc is a perfect gentleman.”

“See that, Tristy?” Roc says, grabbing me around the shoulders. “I’m a perfect gentleman.” He does a perfect imitation of Elsey’s overly formal way of speaking, all the way down to the high pitch and raised chin, which sends her squealing with laughter.

She tries to grab his hand again, but he darts away, and she chases him around the cave, leaving her mother shaking her head and the engineers cringing as Roc nearly crashes into something—a control panel for the transporter, I think—that looks expensive and complicated.

“You better watch out, Tawni,” I say, “it seems you’ve got competition.”

Tawni brushes a loose strand of blond hair away from her face. “Don’t I know it. Since we met up, those two have been inseparable.”

For a moment—just a moment—I forget where we are and why we’re here. As I watch Roc dance out of another attempt by Elsey to grab him, I wonder whether we could ever experience true happiness in a better time, in a better place.

I hope so. Otherwise what are we fighting for?

Roc and Elsey don’t stop their game of tag until the now-empty transporter descends slowly from the roof. No one speaks as the doors open, revealing the dimly lit interior.

“Ride’s here,” Roc says unnecessarily.

“This will take us above?” Elsey asks.

“Just wait,” Roc says, “the surface is the coolest thing you’ll ever see. Try not to get bit by the flying monkeys.”

Elsey’s eyes widen. “There are fly—”

“Usually the twelve-legged mountain lions will protect you from the flying monkeys,” I say. “Don’t worry.”

“Although if they’re really hungry, sometimes they prefer little girls to flying monkeys,” Roc adds, tickling Elsey.

Giggling, she pushes him away. “They do not!”

“Guess you’ll find out,” I say, stepping into the glass enclosure.

General Rose presses a button to open the cave door, ushering in a dozen soldiers. “It’s time,” she says.

Roc, Tawni and Elsey step in next to me, followed closely by the final group of soldiers. Anna squeezes in last of all, barely able to fit.

The door closes and we shoot straight through the ceiling.