We’re behind the
stone only a moment before we hear an odd slithering sound add itself into the
creaking of the trees. I peek out, cautiously, to see three creatures emerge
from the forest and have to clamp a hand over my mouth to suppress a gasp.
Quick and oddly
graceful, the best description I can give is that they’re something in between
a centipede and a ferret, though all of them are about the height of a horse.
The heads are mostly mammalian, with stretched snouts and white markings around
their eyes. Sleek brown fur, with an occasional white splotch, stretches down
the length of the two outer creatures, though the middle one gleams a pure
white. Their bodies are long - even though they’re now halfway from the edge of
the forest to the stone, I still haven’t seen where they end. Tiny, sturdy arms
stick out everywhere, each ending in a hand with long, thin fingers. Though
they walk on some of these, they use others to press open the convoluted tree
trunks, which move as if filled with liquid.
The creatures, now
fearfully close, finally stop and riders rise from their backs. For a moment my
breath catches and I freeze, convinced we’re going to be seen, but the riders
focus on the tower behind us.
I hesitate. I know
I should duck back behind the stone, but the middle rider has captured my
attention. Though it’s necessary to shield my eyes to look, I can see she’s a
woman. She glows white-hot, as if she’s come straight out of a forge, and she
wears both a silver crown and silver armor. Her face is a collection of harsh,
sharp features, but I suspect that she would be beautiful if those features
weren’t so mangled by hatred and disgust. Maybe I’m thinking this, though,
because she somehow resembles my mother, a woman who was certainly never called
anything but beautiful, even if something about this woman in front of me is
very different. Some cruelty in her movements and expression suggests she
regrets little and questions herself not at all. At the same time, her crown
and armor both command respect, covered as they are with inlay and set with
rubies and diamonds that gleam like the eyes of demons. I shiver and edge a
little further behind the stone, bumping Beth, who’s also stuck her head out to
look. She uses my shoulder to steady herself but doesn’t let out a peep.
The other two
creatures have riders, too, but these men are nothing like the middle woman. They’re
completely covered in black, glass-like armor and draped in furs, like we’re in
the Arctic instead of underneath a beating-hot sun. The bigger one shifts his
fur cloak off his arms and I see that precious gems run up them, sparkling in
the sun. Sharp blades poke out from the armor at his wrists, where the
glass-like substance has been layered so thick that it almost looks like he has
on cuffs. His movement also allows me to see the large, metal canisters which,
I assume, are strapped to both men’s thighs. Hoses connect to these containers and
snake up to a utility belt, where they attach to long-barreled guns. Light grey
wiring twists along their armor, especially around the legs and arms, which makes
them look like a combination of a knight and a circuit board.
Beth’s apparently seen
enough because she ducks back behind the stone while letting out the faintest
of whimpers. I can’t stop staring, though. The men’s visors are up and, even
though their features are human, their skin is strange. It’s dark, tanned, but
the texture is rough, making it look almost like they have scales.
The one on the
left, who’d shifted his cloak, is older, maybe in his fifties or sixties. His
hair is beginning to gray and his skin to wrinkle, but in no way does his age
seem to have weakened him. He’s a giant, rippling with muscles. His armor seems
only barely big enough, and, though the creature he’s on is much larger than
the others, it seems to struggle beneath his weight. He holds himself rigid,
alert, and the crease between his eyebrows tells me that this serious demeanor
is normal.
The other soldier is
younger, smaller and much lither. His eyes glint in a way that makes him look
as though he’s not quite sane and the long scar from his cheekbone to his mouth
only solidifies this conclusion. His smile is more like a grimace, but the way
he shows his teeth makes it very clear that he’s pleased. Perhaps, like the
woman beside him, he might be attractive, but the touch of insanity makes it
impossible to tell. I shiver, my eyes drawn back to the gleaming woman.
Something about her, even next to these men, makes my blood run cold.
Beth tugs on my
arm and I pull back, hiding behind the stone. I’ve had more than enough of a
look. Anything else and I’ll press our luck. I turn to see that Beth’s eyes are
wider than I’ve ever seen. She hasn’t released my arm and her grip is tight, as
if I’m anchoring her to the world. She raises her other hand and places a
finger to her lips.
Yeah, as if I need
to be told to keep quiet. I just give her a small nod. Alyssa, next to Beth, is
shaking her head in disbelief, brow furrowed. I’m not sure whether she’s
rationalizing this place or convincing herself it’s not real.
I look past them
at Hombre, wondering if he has some kind of answer, but instead he looks pale
and panicked one moment and then frustrated the next. His eyes keep shifting
colors: blue to scarlet to blue to violet to blue. He seems to be restraining
himself, mouthing over and over, as if the words are some spell, “The golden woman
can’t be destroyed, remember your duty, the golden woman can’t be destroyed,
remember your duty . . .”
I frown. What does
that mean? Who is this woman and why does he seem to know her?
Whoever she is, her
voice is now snaking across the tiny glade, “I want to kill those pit dinths this
time. All of them. Not leave a single cowardly, disgusting specimen alive.”
We’re all frozen
behind the pillar, not daring to move a muscle, and Darien’s face turns its
palest yet. I don’t know what a pit dinth is, but from her tone I can tell it’s
an insult.
Another voice, one
of the men, introduces itself, the words very distinct and clear: “Creator Vehnia
willing, we will eradicate them, Leader Iifa.”
I’m
not sure what or who Vehnia is, either, but I’m pretty sure the only people
they can be talking about are the ones in that tower. The ones Hombre told us we
need to get to, who are supposed to be able to help us.
The other man
chuckles, “As we would say in Farah, nothing quite rivals blood when working up
a sweat. We’ll be warming ourselves in their death soon.” His voice is
incredibly deep, like the thrum of the earth, and from his manner of speaking I
know it has to be the man with the crazy eyes. His words are tinted, slightly, by
a strange accent that resembles nothing back on Earth.
Darien reaches for
my bracelet, still on my wrist, and I snatch my arm away, glaring at him. He
frowns, but mouths: “Hide it.” I hesitate, but if he’s worried about it I think
I should listen. I release the clasp and then hesitate before deciding to stuff
it into my bra. I look over at Hombre and he frowns, shrugs, and then nods, satisfied
that it’s out of sight.
“Don’t be vulgar,”
the first man is telling the other, his proper speech filled with disgust. He
must be the large, brutish man, but the way he speaks is somehow contrary to
what I would’ve expected.
“Are you afraid of
blood, Veren?” The smaller man snorts, apparently amused by the thought, “You
know, we drank it when I was fighting in the south. We preferred to recognize
who and what we were, rather than claiming we only killed for duty. Tell me, do
you truly hate seeing the look in the eyes of the dying as they witness you as
their killer? Or are you just afraid it makes you like me?”
A chill runs up my
spine, and Beth’s fingernails cut into my skin. Veren retorts, his voice
dripping with loathing, “I’m not like you. I wasn’t forced to join the army or
to come to this place because I’d committed too many monstrosities. I chose
this fight and this cause. When I return, my family will be proud, and my people
will honor me. When this war ends, they will kill you – if you are still
alive.”
The woman’s voice
cuts in, “Stop your quarreling. Veren, whatever Chul’s background, so long as
he obeys my orders, it is forgiven. We have not enough men to accept only saints.”
“Yes, Leader
Iifa,” Veren sounds respectful, but a certain bite to his words tells me that he
disagrees.
“Wipe that sneer
off your face, Chul,” Iifa snaps, “I understand you’re new to the command your
skill has earned you, but I need a leader, not some petulant child looking to
provoke fights. Our enemy is in that tower, not here, and I need you to be
focused on fighting them. Why do you think I brought you here? I’m not the only
one who sometimes needs a reminder.”
Her words hang in
the air for a moment, before Chul, reluctantly, says, “If you command it,
Leader Iifa.”
“Good. What was
the name of the young man they just named to command, here?”
“Ki,” Veren
answers.
“Ki?” Iifa responds,
“Sounds like the name of a friend. Hopefully his watchers have gotten sight of
me by now. Even if my presence doesn’t make him
nervous, his people will be thrown into a fervor. It’s been a long time since I
fought for this tower.”
“Maybe they’ll let
us in the front door,” Chul remarks.
She snorts, “That
would be a welcome change. We must head back, now. There are other matters we
must attend to.”
I hold my breath
as I hear them retreat into the trees. Beth releases her death-grip at last and
I glance around the stone to make sure the soldiers are gone. I breathe out a
sigh of relief when I see the clearing’s empty.
Alyssa’s next to
me, now, staring at the tree line and muttering to herself, “I don’t get this.
How was she glowing like that? And those things they were riding – how does
something like that exist?”
“Darien? What’s going on? Who were they?” Beth
asks, much more serious than usual. She shivers, “That one man . . .”
Hombre is tense, his
voice strained, as he states, “We have to get out of here.” Before any of us can
say anything, he’s hurrying to the edge of the clearing. He pauses there, looks
down, and then looks at us. “You need to come with me. I don’t think I need to
convince you that it’s dangerous to stay here, right?”
I find myself
slowly shaking my head.
He turns back
around, inhales, and then leaps, landing on the wall before he turns to us. He
insists, “We need to go. Now.” His expression tells me that he expects one of
us to argue, but none of us do. I bite my lip and step away from the stone. Beth’s
on my heels and Alyssa’s not far after, her dazed look turning into one of
determination.
It’s now that I
realize that something occupies the space between the tower and the wall. For a
moment I think that it’s gleaming, pristine water, but then I notice the lack
of waves. My stomach drops. The tower is surrounded entirely by a glass pane
that’s been placed a good two stories down. I can see movement beneath it, but
find myself needing to look away, biting my lip and trying not to imagine
plummeting through it, shards of broken glass piercing through me.
I take a deep
breath and try to focus on the jump.
Looking down, it
seems that all the support and ground that’s supposed to be in-between the wall
and the clearing has just vanished into an abyss. The hole isn’t very wide but
I still feel my heart in my throat. Great.
“I dunno if I can
make that,” Beth says next to me, shifting anxiously.
“We have to,” I
tell her.
She shifts again,
glancing back at the trees as if weighing her options.
Before I can start
to reassure her, Alyssa vaults over the pit, landing easily. Beth and I stare at
her, and when she turns to us and sees our surprise she rolls her eyes, and just
says, “Come on.” I guess her enthusiasm to get out of here has over-ruled her
shame at agreeing with Hombre about something.
I inhale deeply,
back up, and then hurl myself off the edge of the clearing. There’s a moment where
it’s almost like I’m flying and then my foot connects with the hard rock of the
wall. The landing sends a jolt of pain through my knee, but other than that I’m
fine. I breathe a sigh of relief, though I can’t help but still feel nervous
now that there are steep drops to either side of me. I try not to entertain the
question as to which death would be preferable.
Beth lands beside
me and latches onto my arm to steady herself, inhaling sharply. I stumble a bit
but keep my footing and turn to give her a wry smile, trying to be reassuring, “Nice
landing. You’re fine, see?”
“This thing isn’t
wide enough for me to be ‘fine,’” she mutters. “Let’s just go.”
I turn and see
that Hombre and Alyssa have already taken off. Beth’s pushing me forward,
clearly anxious to be off the ledge. I hate running, but this isn’t the time to
complain. I start off after them, Beth right behind me.
I try to ignore
the drops on either side, especially as my feet keep sliding on the smooth
stone. I almost go down twice in the first few strides but then I adjust my
steps, trying to land on the balls of my feet. It feels strange, but it helps.
I grit my teeth. We’re
not far from the clearing, but already my muscles are tight. Annoyed with my
body, I push myself to keep going, trying not to think about that man, Chul,
and how that woman could be capable of controlling someone who’s so clearly deranged.
Who is she? And why does she seem to make Hombre both furious and terrified at
the same time?
My body’s
insistence that I shouldn’t be running only gets more persistent as we approach
the bridge to the tower. Years of tennis have made running second-nature to
Alyssa, and Hombre doesn’t seem to have any problems, either, but I can’t match
their pace at all. I start to feel panicked. If that woman comes after us, Beth
and I are screwed. I keep charging forward, but my breath is beginning to tear
up the back of my throat and my bracelet is now stabbing my boob. I wrap my
arms around my chest and keep running, terrified that my lack of fitness will
result in my death. From the raggedness of Beth’s breath, I don’t think she’s
doing much better.
I celebrate
briefly as we pass what I think is a halfway point. Far ahead of us, Hombre and
Alyssa have already reached the bridge to the tower. Hombre looks back and
shouts, “Hurry!”
Easy for him to
say. My vision’s beginning to go a little fuzzy at the edges and my mouth is so
dry it could be a desert. I can’t help but imagine the woman or one of her
minions sliding out onto the wall in front of us or throwing some deadly weapon
from one of the clearings we pass. An image of me falling worms itself into my
mind and I try to ignore it, focusing on my harsh breath, my screaming muscles,
the sweat pouring down my face – anything to distract myself. One step after
another I’m making progress, and each step means I’ve avoided death.
We finally reach
the bridge, and, though we’re still a long ways from the tower, some of my
panic subsides as my feet turn onto it. Behind me, I hear Beth round onto the
bridge, too, and my fear evaporates almost completely. I wonder if it’s due to
the humming I hear below, drifting up from beneath the glass. Sounds of life
and hope seem contained there, rising up to reassure me that I can make it,
that I’ll be alright. A cramp in my leg wants to differ, but I ignore it and
keep running because, ahead of us, Hombre and Alyssa are finally at the door,
pounding on it and yelling. I muster up the last of my strength to cover the
bridge and charge forward, step by painful step, until at last I’m close enough
that I don’t need to force myself to run anymore.
Out-of-breath,
sweaty, parched, I’m thankful that I can now reduce my speed to a crawl. Beth,
behind me, has already done so, and I hear her gasping for air.
The door is now
beginning to open, though too slowly for comfort. I turn away, embarrassed that
Hombre and Alyssa are nowhere near the mess that Beth and I are.
As I try to slow
my breathing, though, I notice movement in the trees behind us. I frown, wiping
my forehead with my shirt, and as I do so I catch her white-hot gaze. I pause,
petrified. For a moment she just stares, but I swear that, even at this
distance, even with how blinding she is, I can see a smile creep up her face to
transform her into something beautiful. I blink, confused, and then squint to try
to make her out better, but she’s already sinking back into the trees. Beth
grabs my arm and I stumble as she pulls me through the large doors into
who-knows-where.
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