Halve Human

by Stephanie Fazio

  “There seems little point in binding you,” the Dusker Captain says, “but if you try anything, your friends will be Burn vulture breakfast.”

  I clench my jaw. Blinding sunlight floods the tunnel as one of the men throws open the stone covering. I follow the Duskers up the steps cut into the upward sloping earth tunnel and emerge into the low day.

  Blinking, I scour the haze of reds, greens, and blues of the landscape. We’re facing the mountains south of the fortress that form a natural barrier separating the Wild Lands of Tanguro from the rest of civilization. I turn back to find the buildings—or what’s left of them—engulfed in a roaring fire. The wood cracks and pops as flames lick up the sides.

  The orchards Wokee spent months nurturing are now nothing more than smoking embers. The defensive wall we all labored on for weeks is in ruins.

  I remember when Thutmose placed the final stone on the wall, he kissed it. I stood on that wall and watched the sun color the mountains from pink to orange to deep red. We were going to defeat the Duskers from behind those walls.

  All the breath leaves my body when I see the beautiful golden tree that marks Brice’s grave. It’s on fire.

  As the flames turn the tree to ash, I feel my heart crack into a thousand pieces.

  The ground rumbles, and a plume of dust rises from the far end of the courtyard.

  “Explosives in the tunnels,” the Dusker Captain tells me. “Just to make sure no one gets the idea to mount a resistance from here again.”

  I wipe a sleeve across my nose but can’t stop the tears from carving a path down the dirt on my face. “You’re all monsters.”

  “You are the only monster here,” the Captain says, pointing a gloved finger at me.

  The thought of what the Duskers will do to Aunt Jadem and my two best friends if I don’t go with them is all that keeps me from falling to my knees and refusing to move another inch.

  The Captain signals his soldiers, and they begin to move.

  “Walk.” There is the sharp jab of an arrow at my back.

  If they stabbed me, I think, there would be nothing inside. I’m hollow, empty.

  With the crackling of the inferno and the ground still rumbling from the tunnels’ destruction, I let the enemy lead me out of Tanguro. The next time I look back, all I can see of the fortress is the smoke curling above the ruins.

  “Captain, look.” One of the Duskers waves his sword in the direction of the mountain. “Is that—?”

  “Draw weapons,” the Captain commands.

  There is the sound of blades being pulled from scabbards and the click of arrows being fitted into crossbows.

  “Halve!”

  “Dark God protect us….”

  “Form lines,” the Captain snaps.

  I crane my neck, but the taller Duskers in front make a shield of gray blocking my view.

  My heart pounds a rhythm of hope against my chest. I haven’t heard from Ekil and the rest of the Halves since they left the fortress in search of their own lands. Did Ekil somehow hear about the attack and come to help?

  “No mercy,” the Dusker Captain is saying. “We will destroy it.”

  As the Duskers spread out, an opening in their ranks gives me a view of the incomer. I see the Halve they’re talking about, but as it comes closer, I make out other smaller figures running behind.

  My hope plummets. One Halve and three soldiers, no matter how skilled, are nothing against the Duskers. They’ll be dead long before they reach us.

  As they near, I can see the three humans running behind the Halve are wearing Solguard blue. I squint into the blinding sunlight, hardly daring to breathe. One of them is tiny—even compared to the other humans. Wokee?

  Hope and fear rage inside me.

  “Crossbows ready!”

  A few more seconds pass before Ry’s red, frizzy hair curling around the sides of her blue hood comes into view. The bow and arrow in her hands leaves no doubt in my mind. The third figure—my aunt—dwarfs the other two even though she lags behind.

  Something almost like—but not quite—hope makes the fog in my brain begin to lift.

  My sling is gone, taken by the Duskers, but that doesn’t mean I’m weaponless. Before the guards can react, I grab the nearest Dusker’s sword. I wrench it from his belt and slice straight through him in the way Wade and I practiced months ago. I grit my teeth against the feeling of the blade piercing through flesh and bone.

  A gurgling sound of protest erupts from his throat.

  “The Bisecter,” someone shouts. “Kill the Bisecter!”

  “No—the Supreme wants her alive.”

  I sweep the bloodied sword in an arc, felling two more men before they can even raise their crossbows. A snarl rips free from my throat as I hurl my body at the tightening circle of Duskers, carving a path through them in the direction of my friends.

  “Mer, down!”

  I would know Ry’s voice anywhere. Without thinking, I drop to a crouch. Two arrows pass directly over my head and bury themselves into the Duskers behind me.

  “You leave her alone!”

  The sound of Wokee’s shrill voice gives me a burst of energy. With one slash of the sword in my hand, two more Duskers fall. When I look up from my slaughter, Ekil is beside me, bludgeoning Duskers with a stone club. Ry’s arrows are flying. I turn my attention on the Dusker Captain, who is standing behind his few remaining soldiers.

  Aunt Jadem is yelling something, and it’s not until my sword is poised at the Captain’s throat that her words become clear.

  “Stand down!” she’s calling. “Hemera, don’t.”

  When she reaches me, she’s panting for breath and her face is red with exertion.

  “Aunt Jadem, he—they—” I can’t even bring myself to say what they’ve done.

  Aunt Jadem holds up a finger as she gasps for air. “Enough blood has been spilled already. Killing them will only make things worse.”

  But they’re Duskers. They would have killed every one of you without a thought.

  My response is drowned out by the sound of—laughter. The Dusker Captain is laughing so hard tears are streaming down his face.

  “Is he crazy?” Ry asks, looking from me to Aunt Jadem.

  “Oh, that’s rich,” the Dusker says, wiping tears from his eyes as he stares unblinking at Aunt Jadem. “You trying to make amends, oath-breaker?”

  My aunt’s one good eye narrows.

  “But you’ll get what you deserve,” the Captain continues. “The darkness is coming. The Supreme—”

  I haven’t even realized the sword has left my hand when Aunt Jadem slides the blade across the man’s throat.

  He crumples in a gray heap on the ground.

  “I thought you said we needed to let him live,” I say.

  “I changed my mind.” Aunt Jadem wipes the Dusker’s blade on the ground.

  “What was he talking about?” Ry asks. “All that nonsense about making amends?”

  “Just that,” Aunt Jadem slides the Dusker’s blade into the empty sheath on her belt. “Nonsense.” But worry lines pucker my aunt’s brow, adding to the map of scars across her forehead.

  “That Dusker said something about oath-breakers to me too,” I say. “That the Dusker Supreme would punish them. And there was something else.” I squint into the sunlight, trying to remember. “One of them said the darkness was coming sooner than we thought.”

  “Please,” Ry scoffs. “They’ve been saying that for about a hundred years now.” She wipes sweat from her brow. “No darkness yet.”

  “This was different, though,” I shake my head, trying to put words to the feeling. “The Captain got angry at the soldier who said it, like she wasn’t supposed to talk about it.”

  “What else did he say?” Aunt Jadem’s eye is intent on me. “Think hard, Hemera. I want to know every word.”

  I shrug. “He knocked me out after that.”

  At the look on my aunt’s face, I hurry to say, “It probably meant nothin
g.”

  My aunt is silent for a moment, and then she shakes her head. “Ravings of a dead man.”

  She gives me a lopsided smile, but she seems lost in her own thoughts.

  “Did you see Hemera kill one with just her fist?” Wokee breaks the silence. “That was awesome!”

  A jolt of regret passes through me. Not for killing the Duskers, but because Wokee had to see it. If I could, I would shield him from everything unpleasant.

  I look at Wokee, hardly daring to believe he is standing here…alive.

  Even though he’s grown since Dayne and I rescued him from the hilltop, Wokee’s round eyes are still too big for his freckled face. His mop of blonde curls has grown past his ears, and he keeps tucking the stray pieces back into his hood. A layer of dust and grime coats his face and neck, but that isn’t unusual for him.

  Wokee’s dimpled cheeks break into a grin as I study him. I pull him into my arms. Wokee returns my embrace for a fraction of a moment, and then squirms away, muttering something about girls and mushy emotions.

  “That’s right,” Ry opens her arms to me. “Come give me some of that mush.”

  Ry lifts me off the ground in an embrace tight enough to hurt any normal person.

  “I was so worried,” I say. “I thought….” I swallow, unable to continue. I blink away the blurriness in my vision before anyone notices.

  “Lucky Ekil got here when he did.” Aunt Jadem nods at the Halve. “If it wasn’t for him, we’d still be at the Duskers’ mercy.”

  “Yeah,” Wokee adds. “He,” he points his dagger at the Halve, “broke into the traveling cave they were keeping us in. Probably would have killed us along with the Duskers if it—I mean, Ekil—hadn’t recognized us.” Wokee gives Ekil a sidelong glance. “He tried talking to us, but you know, it was all gibberish. But then he said your name. And led us here.”

  “Hemera.” Ekil says my name in the raspy, guttural language of the Halves, which, thanks to the blood I share with them, I understand.

  After being surrounded by only humans for these past months, Ekil seems to loom even larger than I remember. When I take the gnarled, scaly hand he holds out to me, everything below my wrist is swallowed in his grip.

  He wears a new animal hide skirt, one that doesn’t hang in filthy tatters like the one he wore when he was my father’s prisoner. His posture is hunched and the longer of his uneven arms reaches the ground, like I remember. His eyes, as black as mine, still have that intelligent gleam that first made me realize he was different from the other Halves. And yet, as familiar as he is, there’s something different about him.

  Ekil is still more than a foot taller than even the largest men, but he isn’t as round as the last time I saw him. His rough skin hangs off him like he’s lost a lot of weight very quickly, and I can see his ribs protruding from his sunken chest. His back is more curved than I remember, and I can see the knobs of his spine under his skin.

  “Thank you for rescuing us,” I say to Ekil. “Again.”

  “Things very bad for Halves,” Ekil says without acknowledging my gratitude. “Gray humans took our river.”

  “What’s he saying?” Wokee asks.

  “He says the Duskers took their river,” I translate.

  “How does someone take a river?” Wokee demands, raising an eyebrow.

  I repeat the question to Ekil.

  “They dug new ditches. Made the river flow away.”

  “Why?”

  Ekil blinks at me, like my stupidity is beyond his comprehension. “Duskers dig new streams. Make the river flow away. No water, no animals. No animals, no food. Halves starving.”

  “Why in the sun would the Duskers do that?” Ry asks after I have finished translating. “Why not just attack the Halves outright?”

  “Perhaps they don’t want to risk being poisoned by Halve blood,” Aunt Jadem replies, “and think depriving them of their water to be a less risky way of destroying what they view to be a cursed species.” She winces even as she says the words.

  “But to go through the effort of re-coursing an entire river….?” Ry’s question hangs in the air.

  “We need help,” Ekil states. “Humans have water but won’t share. Halves and humans killing each other.”

  “You’re living in the Banished Lands?” I ask Ekil.

  The Banished Lands, where people expelled from the Subterrane Territory have lived for generations, are just south of the mountains. Until I met Wokee, I believed the Duskers’ stories that all Banished people were criminals and barbarians. Now I know better. The Banished don’t associate with either the Dwellers or the Solguards; they live by their own laws.

  “Nowhere else to go,” he growls in return.

  I grimace, imagining the Banished people’s reaction when a group of Halves decided to live among them. An image crystallizes in my mind. The Halves, desperate for food and water, invading the settlements. The people, terrified of the Halves and unable to understand them, defending their homes and families.

  “We need help,” Ekil says again.

  “I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “You saved us from bad man. Save us from gray cloaks now.”

  “I couldn’t even save my own people!” I gesture in the direction of the ruined fortress. “There’s nothing, nothing, I can do.” My knees give way and I sink to the ground, burying my face in my hands.

  “Mer?” Aunt Jadem crouches beside me. “What’s happened?”

  It’s only then I realize that, like me, the Duskers must have captured them before the end of the battle. Ry, Wokee, and Jadem don’t know what happened to the rest of our army. I look at my aunt and feel my heart splinter.

  “They’re dead. They’re all dead.”

  CHAPTER 3

  My hands lift in a helpless gesture. The rebel sun, inked onto the back of my right hand, is now just a cruel reminder of my failure.

  In broken sentences, I tell them what the Duskers said about the rest of our army. Ry wraps her arms around Wokee, who for once, doesn’t try to stop her. Aunt Jadem’s shoulders slump.

  “I don’t understand,” Ry says. “The Duskers shouldn’t have even been here. They were supposed to attack Solis first—”

  “The Solguard fortress is still standing,” I say before Ry can finish. “The Duskers said they were waiting until the Dusker Supreme was ready.”

  Momentary relief washes over Ry’s face, but then her brow furrows. “Why?”

  “It’s a message,” Aunt Jadem murmurs.

  We all look at my aunt. But she doesn’t seem to be talking to us.

  “Aunt Jadem?” I press.

  “Nothing.” She shakes her head. “But we need to get back to Solis. We have to warn them.”

  Aunt Jadem is already moving, like she’s going to walk all the way back to the fortress right now.

  “It’ll take us weeks to get back,” Ry protests. “Whatever the Duskers plan to do will be done by the time we get there.”

  “Hemera.” Ekil raises a hand to me. “Halves dying.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I can’t help you.” I turn my black eyes to the ground, unable to hold Ekil’s gaze.

  “I want to see Tanguro.” Wokee’s voice is quiet, but it cuts through Ry and Aunt Jadem’s plans for returning to Solis.

  I exchange a look with my aunt. There are a dozen things we need to do right now, and going back to the ruins of Tanguro will only slow us down. Still, I don’t blame Wokee for wanting to see it one last time. I feel the same urge.

  What would be the harm in taking a few extra minutes to say goodbye?

  ✽✽✽

  No one speaks as we tramp past the huge chunks of stone littered across the ground, which used to be the wall surrounding Tanguro. The enormous white buildings we lived in are gone, turned into ash from the fires set by the Duskers. Trees from the orchard Wokee found in ruins and so carefully nurtured are dismembered. The bright pink and yellow fruits that had dragged at t
heir boughs lay rotting on the ground.

  But these details barely register in my consciousness. It’s the blue cloaks dotting the ground between the fortress and the mountains that make my knees tremble. It is only Ry on my left and Aunt Jadem on my right who keep me standing.

  The scattered black arrows, blue cloaks, and bones are all the Burn vultures left behind. There is no other evidence that nearly five-hundred soldiers and former prisoners fought here. Men and women who dreamed of a better life, who believed in my promises to give them that life.

  A sob rips free from my throat.

  “What happened here isn’t your fault,” Aunt Jadem says.

  “We all knew the danger.” Ry’s voice hitches.

  “They killed all the trees.” Wokee’s lip quivers.

  Wokee spent his every waking moment learning about the unusual plants that grow only in Tanguro. He plied Aunt Jadem for her tricks for keeping trees alive in the heat of high day, and her special recipe for plant food. Wokee spent half a day following me around, bragging about how he was the only one Aunt Jadem would tell her secrets about growing things.

  It was because of Wokee we learned which plants would kill with a single touch, which fruits would stay fresh for weeks, and where to dig for the rare fungus that lured animals into our waiting traps. It was Wokee’s labors that fed our people in this strange, unfamiliar land.

  And it was all for nothing.

  “Their ashes will go back into the land they sprung from.” My aunt gives Wokee a sympathetic squeeze. “And from their ashes, new trees will grow.”

  “It won’t be the same.” Wokee swipes his glove across his eyes.

  Pain stabs through me like a hot knife.

  “But that is your gift,” she tells Wokee. “The Duskers can never stop you from planting more.” Aunt Jadem quirks her scarred lip at him. “You are the most talented botanist I have ever met.”

  Wokee doesn’t say anything, but I can tell the compliment means more to him than he’d ever admit.

  I can’t speak around the lump in my throat.

  “Ahead.”

  I turn to see what Ekil is pointing to. A dark shape on the horizon is just visible through the bright orange haze of the sun.