by Amanda Twigg
“I told you, I’m here for the temple,” she said.
“Us, too, but we failed the test.”
“Test?”
The man cackled. “Yeah. Everyone who gets into the temple passes a test. Didn’t you know?”
Landra refused to answer. Oh, Thisk. Why didn’t you tell me about a test? Why is nothing simple? Why, oh why? She couldn’t help recalling her life from before the chief elect challenge. It had been easy—blessed, she realized. If only she’d known.
“Give me your boots,” the man said again.
Landra swallowed. Can’t help everyone. She kicked him aside and strode away. Choosing the right moment to claim a good spot proved easy. As a swamper fell unconscious and tumbled from a thick root, she stepped up into his space and pressed her back against a tree trunk. Perfect. Safer this way. Out of the mud and no one can sneak up from behind.
“Nice move,” the grey-haired man said.
“Are you following me?”
“Might as well. Take your boots when you die.”
“What makes you think I’ll go first?”
He grinned, showing gaps where most of his teeth should be. “I’m a survivor. What’s the worst you’ve been through?”
Don’t make me think, old man. She rummaged in her food sack and pulled out a cheese wedge. “I need my boots, but you can have this.” She ripped off a chunk and threw it in his direction. The swamper scrambled to retrieve his spoils and saved it before it sank into the mud. After wiping it on his ragged sleeve, he swallowed it whole.
Ugh! Satisfied? You can stop bothering me now.
“Put the rest of that away,” he said, his hands flapping at her cheese. You’ll be mobbed if others see. Don’t matter how fit you are. A gang of swampers can take you down as easy as mud slugs. My name’s Dennark, and you’ve no need to worry. I’ll see over you while you’re down here. Bring your stuff over, and we can share it.”
More like rob me. “I’m not leaving this spot until the recruiting party comes.”
“Not even to shit?”
Didn’t think of that.
Dennark cackled again, but his effort at laughter turned into a cough.
“I don’t want to miss my chance at the temple,” Landra said.
“Oh, glory me. You’re some spoiled soldier girl who thinks you’ve found magic. Run away, did you? D’you hear that, Jex? We got a runaway.”
His jibe hit near enough to Landra’s regrets to sting. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Always is.”
A younger soldier, balanced in a sitting position on a small rock, turned to look. His recent uniform, barely outgrown engineering insignia, and dark stubble showed he’d not been here long. “Leave her alone, Den.”
If it hadn’t been for his extra belt notch to account for wasting and an orange mud tinge to his dark hair, Landra would’ve thought the soldier didn’t belong here any more than she did. His flat, blue aura had even edges and ordered patterns, reminding her of Winton.
“You want my advice?” Dennark said. “This is no place for some coddled soldier whose worst bother was a bad training report.”
Is that what I look like? How can my scars and pain not show?
“Get yourself back up top while your pin still works, girl. And if you go, leave me and Jex your stuff. Might be enough to see us through until Templers come on their next pass. It’s likely another week away, and I might not survive without help. Got shelk coming out of every orifice and some holes that shouldn’t be there. Sure sign I’m on my way out.”
Charming. “My pin’s gone. I can’t get back into the city.”
“What’s your name? Bet there’s people looking for you.”
“You’re right. There are people looking for me, but none with good intentions. They call me Lan… Lanya Bexter.”
Dennark wriggled up and leaned in close to grab her ankle.
Landra’s gloved grip flew to his throat and clamped tight. “What are you doing?” The gold in her eyes stared out from beneath her hat with blazing fury. “I’m no coddled soldier, I’m not looking for magic, and if you touch me again, I’ll tighten this hold. Understand?”
The swamper’s eyes goggled. He couldn’t speak, but he managed a nod. Jex jumped to his feet with surprising speed and closed in, but Landra stopped him with one terrible look. She turned the same stare on Dennark until his hand fell away from her boot.
You don’t get to touch me. Only people I trust can do that. “I’m just looking for somewhere to rest until the Templers come,” she said, her grip easing.
“Yes, ranger,” he replied, pulling free and scrambling to a nearby rock.
Ranger? Is that what I look like? Is this how rangers act? She’d never seen Thisk vent rage. Then she recalled he’d hit her for tempting magic and recognized her selective memory’s trick. It felt easier to recall him as a protector.
No protectors now. She sighed away her grief and settled in to concentrate on survival.
The temple doors opened on Landra’s fourth day in the pit.
Not soon enough. Landra had her socks off to check for sores. She poked around her toes with a finger. Clear skin. Better than my face. I suppose that’s something.
The scab on her lip had erupted a day ago. It stung now, like it would break soon. She needed to be out of the pit before that happened. If it hadn’t been for a mud dive under the wall, she would have already given up on the temple to retreat to the ranger hut. But she hadn’t, and now the Templers were here. She pulled her boots on and stood.
Light rays streamed from the open doorway at the top of the stairs, losing strength as they reached the gloom of the swamp.
“You trying the test?” Dennark asked.
“It’s why I’m here.”
“Hah. You don’t even know what to do.”
“You could tell me,” she said. “Or are those robes just for show?”
“I’m a Templer, all right.”
“Then what are you doing down here?”
“We get thrown in the pit more than any,” Dennark said. “It’s Hux’s way of keeping numbers down.” The old man rubbed his aging hip as he tried to stand. He pierced Landra with deep-set eyes, as if to lay the blame for his infirmity at her door.
“Come off it, Dennark,” Jex said. “Everyone knows you took the exile pod for assaulting a soldier.”
“That Soulless fighting machine threw me off the causeway.”
“You still had no right to attack.”
“Leave off. Hux crimes are worse than mine, but I don’t see any of them getting sent to the remote lands.”
You might if you wait.
“If you got podded, it was your own doing,” Jex said. “Chief Hux has a hard enough job without criminals disrupting the city. Lanya, you’re more Warrior than me. Explain it to him.”
She hadn’t expected to find loyalty down here, but voicing support felt impossible. Offering up her identity in this place would end in death, so she avoided discussing city life, so as not to make a slip.
Snot gurgled in the old man’s throat. “Leeman Jextan, I can’t believe you fall for soldier propaganda.”
“You should have stayed podded,” Jex said. “How did you get back from the remote lands?”
“Walked.”
“Pah,” Jex said.
“It’s true. Took more years than you’ve been alive, and it shelking near killed me. You think it’s unpleasant down here? It’s nothing to out there. Ice falls from the sky and twists in the wind to slash your skin. The mud moves in waves and takes you on the tide, so you don’t know where you’ll end up. Hux took most of my life, and when I make it above, I’m going to make that family pay.”
Landra wriggled uneasily and reached for her knife.
“Swamp madness got you,” Jex said.
She recognized that was true, so she stilled her attack.
Attack? Was I going to attack? Shelk.
Landra threw her sacks over a shoulder, ready t
o join the swampers who were congregating around the barrier at the bottom of the stairs. The food bag weighed nothing on her back, and she regretted giving so much away. Bribing potential attackers with a meal had seemed like her safest option, but it left her with little. Better pass this test, or I’m in trouble. She stepped into the ankle-high mud and headed for the barrier.
Jex uncurled from his rock, stretched out to full height, and then tracked alongside.
“I didn’t realize you were that tall,” she said, angling her chin up. Like my brother. She nipped her lips tight. Don’t, don’t, don’t. She couldn’t afford to like people down here.
“You not coming?” Jex called back to Dennark, who hadn’t moved.
“Might be too late for me,” he said, his flat gaze not lifting from the mud. “Them shelking Hux bastards got me in the end.”
Landra wanted to leave him behind, but she couldn’t let his statement be true. She backtracked and linked arms to haul him up.
Jex looked surprised. “Didn’t think you liked the old man.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t like the swamper. She hadn’t known him in good enough circumstances to tell, but Dennark represented the broken element of society that she wished she could fix. She didn’t answer the young engineer, so he linked with Dennark’s other arm and helped to pull him along.
“Are you helping ‘cause you think I’ll tell you how to pass the test?” Dennark asked Landra.
“No. I think I’ve just seen too much death to witness another. Keep walking, Templer.”
Jex shot her a concerned glance over Den’s head and met her gaze. “I’m sorry you lost people, Lanya.”
She sighed deeply. “Don’t be. I killed them.”
Chapter 20
Four Templers emerged from the door, tall staffs in their hands. Landra held her breath, taking in the thick fur of their red robes, the leaves binding their staffs, and their roiling auras. Three of them had blue-shaded Souls with pink tinges, but a tight cerise line ringed the man at the front. She wondered for all the mist what she was doing.
“Not sure I’ll make it in,” Jex said, a nervous waver to his voice. “Never showed a hint of magic growing up.”
“Don’t tell me you spent all these days wallowing in mud without a chance of passing the test?” Dennark said. “That’s the intelligence of an engineer for you.”
Frown lines burrowed into the young man’s forehead. “You could help. I really want to get in.”
“Can’t help ‘cause I never passed the test,” Dennark admitted. “My temple posting was for causing trouble. Last time I tried the test, got thrown back in here like dirt.”
Great. We’re truly shelked.
The Templers descended the stairs, and a rumble of interest worked through the crowd. Landra searched the swampers’ faces, trying to imagine who might prove worthy. Not Dennark, and not me. Efficient killing skills hardly make a suitable candidate for temple worship.
The other swampers looked like a mixture of criminals and deluded wretches. It struck her how desperate the Templers must be to recruit from this desolate pit. Leeman Jextan stood out as the exception. His quiet strength and honor made him worthier of saving than most. What are you doing here, Jex? I hope you find enough magic to pass the test.
A quiver unsettled her aura when a Templer raised his arms. She took it as a hopeful sign that her magic was ready and saw little need for the wailing and screaming, which rattled through the crowd of swampers.
“My Jethrans, please be calm,” the Templer’s deep voice said. His hood fell back, revealing illegally long, blond hair, and his bell sleeves dropped to his elbows. A red skinsuit showed beneath, its garish pink stitching standing out against the blood red fabric.
No cold for you.
Landra felt claimed by his welcome, warming her through more than her thick jacket ever could. She compared the thin tendrils growing up his staff with Oakham’s Soul memory of lush growth and blooms. They didn’t match up in any way, but the recollection lulled her into a magical state, threatening to set the full memory into play. Instinct tensed her body. Don’t fight the magic.
Relaxing felt so wrong, but the Templer’s melodic tones subtly clawed at Landra’s thoughts, and she swayed in time with his rhythm. Her aura quivered in response. “Very dramatic,” she said.
No one replied. She glanced around and discovered that every swamper wore a slackened expression, regardless of their physical discomfort. Jex dropped to one knee, and Dennark collapsed at his side. Mud covered their legs, but they didn’t seem to care or react to the sting. More swampers dropped.
Standing out here. Is that good or bad?
“Get down,” Jex hissed.
“Don’t we want to be noticed?”
“I researched this before I came. They look for compliance.”
“And an open heart,” Dennark added. They both stared at him. “It’s what I heard.”
Landra didn’t think either trait sounded like one of her strengths. If they wanted someone who railed against rules or daren’t open her heart for fear it would break, she’d be right in. Only confidence that magic lived in her body kept her strong. If she failed, what had she left?
“My Jethrans,” the Templer repeated, his voice resonating through the underlevel in captivating tones. Each syllable vibrated in a calming flow through Landra’s aura, settling her panic.
“We are here to take the worthy to safety,” he said.
An excited shine brightened Jex’s face, and his gaze sparkled with adoration. “I left the midlevel for this,” he said, gripping Dennark’s arm tight. “It’s why I’m here.”
“It’s why where all here,” the old man said. “Wait. You left the midlevel by choice? Of all the idiots…”
“Citizens of the underlevel,” the Templer said, “society has abandoned you, but this is not how it’s meant to be. I, Temple Lord Chanda, stand before you, ready to show you a better way. In a balanced society, nobody is discarded as you have been.”
He paused to let the ideas impact on his audience.
“Sounds like sweet-talking shelk to me,” Landra said. Silence. She’d expected Dennark’s snarky retort and looked to see why it hadn’t come. Both Jex and Den wore rapturous expressions, which blanked other emotions from their faces. Scanning the assembled swampers, she saw similar reactions. Am I missing something? She tried to relax and share their obvious joy, but a niggling protest troubled her thoughts. This isn’t acceptance. It’s control, and it’s wrong.
“Prepare to be tested,” Chanda bellowed, like a call to arms.
Landra sucked in a nervous breath and tried. Gods of the mist, I think I’m shelked.
The four Soul priests split off into two pairs and plunged into the mud. They passed through the gathered underdwellers, bubbles of power pushing the mud from their robes.
Neat trick. She saw hints of roiling pink in their auras, but nothing like she’d seen from the crimson shades of the Chief Templer. Chanda headed in her direction, so she snatched her breath tight. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be here.
She had to wait her turn because his path through the crowd took time. He ignored most swampers as they clawed at his robe hem. One clip from his partner’s staff sent them sprawling away. Sometimes he paused and talked to a wretch. Nothing obvious showed in the chosens’ auras to single them out. He held a hand over their heads and then pronounced their worthiness. Each accepted swamper rose and headed for the stairs. Rejected swampers received a swipe from his partner’s staff. It glowed as he swept the unfortunate Souls away.
Silence seemed to envelope Landra when Chanda stopped at a man in front. She saw the Templer’s aura swell as he put his hand over the swamper’s head.
Something’s going on, but I can’t tell what it is.
Pulsing pink shades rolled around his blue shades now, and then Landra saw their auras touch. Chanda’s edges pushed through the man’s boundaries before snapping back.
Invasion? Landra’s hear
t raced.
A shake from Chanda’s head set his partner to work.
“No, please take me!” the man said, scrabbling at the Templer’s hem. A staff blow flung him onto his back in the mud.
A better way? Sure. She couldn’t settle as the Lord Templer moved onto Jex. Her breathing came hard, scenarios running through her head with more speed than she could process. What if they refuse me but take Jex? What if they take me, and discover I’m an imposter? What if, what if…? A flood of uncontrollable passion suddenly swamped her Soul. What if they reject me? Her need to enter the temple became an intense demand, overtaking all other thoughts.
She didn’t hear what the priest shared with her friend, but Jex stood and made for the stairs, a toothy grin splitting his face. He waited on the first step and looked back. Dennark went next and received the same outcome. How did you do that? The old man struggled to the stairs, and Jex helped him up.
“What about this one?” Chanda said, nodding to Landra.
I have magic. This should be easy. Compliance, she told herself, and an open heart.
Chapter 21
Red robes filled Landra’s vision. From her kneeling position, swishing red fabric and metal-capped boots came into view. Chanda’s cerise aura edges stopped just short of her Soul limits.
“Take your hat off,” he said
Ah. Not off to a good start with compliance. She bit her lip, wondering what to do. It had been a long time since she’d looked in a mirror, but her gold-flecked hair roots had to be showing.
“Administrator Gertha?” the Templer said.
Chanda’s partner tugged the thick hat from Landra’s head and threw it at her chest. She grabbed it before it could fall in the mud and wrung it in her grip, trying for an innocent look. A worrying idea implanted in her thoughts. Worse could happen here than failing a test.
“You a Hux?” Chanda asked, query coming from his wide-set eyes.
Yep, worse can definitely come. Lie like Thisk. “No, sir.”