by E. S. Maya
“Put the stone back,” Raven said, draping herself in the cape made from trousers and striding across the field. Safi lidded the box and replaced the hiding stone, then hurried to catch up with Raven, whose pointy hood bobbed under the pale moonlight.
“Wish it was darker tonight,” Raven said, “but better to do this now rather than later.” She pointed to a long, flat stone. “Move that one, please.”
“Of course,” Safi grunted. “Wouldn’t want to dirty your precious little fingers.” She flipped the stone, revealing a crude hole underneath. A new hole, dug long and narrow into the ground.
Raven knelt and reached inside. She pulled out a hefty-looking woodcutting axe. Its crescent edge gleamed wickedly in the night.
Safi gasped. “Titans, how’d you get your hands on that?”
Raven grinned. “You’d be surprised what one can find in the dark.” She reached inside again and produced a coil of rope, tossing it at Safi’s chest. “Or the friends one can make in the stockades.”
Safi caught the rope and slung it over her shoulder. It was tightly wound and felt heavier than it looked. She squatted low to heave the hiding stone back into place.
“Now we go north.” Raven lowered her hood so that only her lips were visible. “Easier to follow the Titan’s leg to the oasis. Scouted it last night, while you were sleeping.” Her lips bent into a grin. “Just so you know, there are enforcers inside the fence.”
“Blackpoint guards?” Safi swallowed. “How do we deal with them?”
“We don’t!” Raven answered. “We get the hell out of there before they catch us. Or see us, even.” She adjusted the woodcutting axe on her shoulder. “Faster is better. Let’s go!”
They ran through Lazar’s Crossing, passing Cronus’ fingertip, which towered in the night like the shadow of the moon. The Titan’s body itself stretched across the horizon, its human-like features obscured by darkness. Twinkling orange stars dotted the length of its torso. Safi recognized torchlight when she saw it, though she couldn’t fathom who’d be working at such an hour.
North of Lazar’s crossing, when the cliffs of Cronus’ leg loomed overhead, Raven slowed her step. “This is close enough.” The girls paused to catch their breath. Then they were marching west.
In the dark, Cronus’ leg seemed to go on forever. Safi grew worried. It would take little to spoil their plan and land them time in the stockades. Just a girl in the barracks, likely Hannah or one of her fifth-year harpies, to take a peek under her blanket.
There they would find a small bale of hay on Safi’s pillow, courtesy of Tybel, a first-year girl who worked in the stables whom Raven had made good friends with, and a pile of cheap dresses forming the shape of a person. Their makeshift Safi would be enough to fool a girl from across the room, or so she hoped.
As the mountainous shape of Cronus’ foot swallowed the stars from the sky, the warden’s manor appeared. A scattering of torches and lanterns lingered about the building like the embers of a dying campfire. Its windows were dark pools, though its high white walls and red mansard roof remained visible even at night.
The tall iron fence surrounding the warden’s meadow blurred into sight. “Get low,” Raven said, taking Safi by the shoulder and guiding her onto her stomach. They lay in the dusty grass, peering through the fence, watching the dozen torches that wandered the manor grounds.
“Not so many enforcers this far from the manor,” Safi said. “Must not think anyone’s stupid enough to steal a tree.”
“It ain’t stupid,” Raven said. “It’s clever, and brave, and for a good cause.”
Safi squinted. The nearest floating torch revealed the red of its enforcer’s uniform. “I suppose keeping me from cleaning the fifth-years’ undergarments for half a year, is a good cause.”
Raven rose to one knee and held out her hand. “Here, pass the rope.”
Safi slipped the coil off her shoulder and handed it to Raven, who began looping the working end around the haft of the woodcutting axe. She tied it off in a knot so complicated it left Safi scratching her head.
“Hope this works,” Raven said, hopping to her feet before scurrying towards the fence. “Get over here, muscles.”
Safi flinched when Raven thrust the axe and rope into her hands. “What in the world am I supposed to do with these?”
“It’s easy.” Raven pointed up at the fence. “You toss the axe over, make sure the rope is nice and tight, and then we climb on up.”
Safi craned her neck. The thin metal pickets stood at least ten times her height. She weighed the woodcutting axe in her hands. “There’s no way I can throw that high! I’m not that strong.”
“No, no.” Raven raised her forearm and made a spinning motion. “You’ve got to do it like this.”
“Fine,” Safi said. “But if I cut off any of my fingers, or my own head, you’re the one cleaning it up.”
Raven crossed two fingers over her heart. Her lips flashed a toothy smile. “I take full responsibility.”
Safi stood with her feet shoulder-width apart, coil of rope in her left hand, working end in her right. The woodcutting axe dangled at her side. With a grunt, she swung the axe in a wide, horizontal arc. As it came back around, she leaned forward to gain momentum. The cutting tool completed a full circle over her head.
“Faster,” Raven said. “It’s got to get well over the top!”
Squeezing one eye shut, Safi let out more rope and took careful aim. She imagined herself as a knight in battle, holding the Siegestone-encrusted handle of a legendary flail. The woodcutting axe made huge laps over her head.
Raven took one step backwards, then took five more. Safi kept spinning and spinning. “Just throw the damned thing already!”
Safi launched herself forward and let go with her right hand, felt the coil shrinking in her left. The woodcutting axe flew towards the moon, followed by a thin, wiggling tail.
Then it returned to the earth, thudding softly on the opposite side of the fence. Raven groaned with relief. She stepped in front of Safi and picked up the rope in both hands. “Help me pull.”
The woodcutting axe dragged through the grass and clanged its way up the fence. Safi felt the rope go taut. Raven gave it a few more tugs and set her shoes on the nearest post. One hand over the other, with hips wiggling back and forth, the girl scaled the fence with ease. She perched herself up top and waved at Safi to join her.
Safi swallowed. With safety in mind, she spun her forearms in rope before planting her feet on the fence post. Her work boots slipped on the metal, and she found her arms and back doing most of the work, but after a solid minute of climbing, she threw her arms over the railing and clung for dear life.
Raven rolled her eyes. She crouched delicately over the thin spiked pickets. “Untangle yourself so we can lower the axe to the other side.”
Safi wrenched apart her arms to free herself from the rope, then paused. Raven gave her a quizzical look.
“You never told me how we get down!” Safi said.
“I thought that was obvious,” Raven said. “We jump.” For the sake of silence, the Anderan fed the rope until the axe lay flat on the grass. “Follow when ready.”
“Wait! How do I—”
But Raven was already leaping, descending through the night with her cape fluttering behind her. It was difficult to tell when she landed, for the girl made not a sound.
Safi scowled. If she weren’t stuck fifty-some feet in the air, she would have surely given Raven’s arm a good whopping. After a deep breath, she rolled herself over the fence, cringing as the pickets dragged scratches into her work uniform. Rebecca was going to be furious.
She looked down, to get a good sense of the distance. Much to her dismay, the entire oasis was spinning. For months she had climbed the ramp to the Foot, save Blessing Day, each and every morning, and she had rarely felt dizzy then, but she had never been expected to jump from anything. She decided she wasn’t a good jumper, that she had never really jumped from anyth
ing, not even the trees back in Ashcroft, which was probably why she slept bottom bunk, and—
“Blondie!” Raven hissed. From this height, she looked even smaller than usual. “Make like a stone and fall down!”
Safi held on to the railing, arms trembling, and lowered herself lengthwise against the fence. Below she heard Raven muttering, “Oh Titans, oh Titans…” She held her breath and pushed away from the fence. The air whooshed by as the night darkened further, for she had squeezed her eyes shut.
Her body struck the ground like a hammer. The world trembled and sighed, and everything went silent. She lay in the grass for what felt like hours. When she finally opened her eyes, she rolled onto her back and groaned.
“You alive?” asked Raven, prodding Safi’s hip with the butt of the woodcutting axe.
Nodding, Safi felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck. She got up anyways, patting down her grass-stained uniform before checking her body for any broken bits.
“Titans ass, that’s no way to jump.” Raven peered out from under her hood. “Come on, there’s a winterwood not far from here.”
Safi hobbled after the girl, all the while keeping an eye on the warden’s manor. Though the enforcers were well in the distance, one of the torches drifted in their direction. Up ahead, Raven came upon a young white tree, bright under the moonlight.
Safi shook at her collar. The breeze was scarcely strong enough to cool the sweat on her neck, but still the tree swayed in the wind, tiny leaves rustling.
Raven tossed the woodcutting axe to Safi, rope still attached. “Start cutting.”
Safi caught the haft of the woodcutting axe single-handedly. She gripped it in both hands, leather gloves squeaking. It felt like a toy compared to the sturdy weight of her pickaxe. Stepping up to the tree, she remembered how her mother used to lament that her daughter hadn’t the strength to chop wood. How she wished she had bore a son instead.
Safi dipped her chin and smiled. If only Tabitha Azadi could see her daughter now!
She turned the axe sideways, rope whipping across the grass. Then, with the power of a miner, and the precision of a fighter, she swung the axe towards the base of the tree. Steel struck wood with a crack. The sound went snapping into the night.
Raven jumped. Her hands flew to her hood, fixing it with twitching fingers. “Blondie! Can’t you chop a little quieter?”
Safi paused her second swing and narrowed her eyebrows at Raven. “I’m cutting down a tree.”
Raven traced a finger down her chin. “If you can’t do it quiet, do it fast.”
Nodding, Safi turned towards the tree and swung hard. The edge sliced deeply into the pale bark. She propped her boot against the trunk and jerked the woodcutting axe free. Then she froze, and a chill ran down her back. Voices, calling out in the distance. She glanced sideways, found the torchlight brightening around the manor.
“They’re coming!” Raven cried. “You swing slower than a Titan. Hurry!”
The tree shook violently as Safi delivered three successive blows. “That doesn’t even make—any—sense!”
“Good enough!” Raven shouldered Safi aside and threw herself against the trunk. It bent sideways before catching her weight. “Push, Blondie! You’ve gotta help me push!”
Safi stood beside Raven and pushed. Shoulders against wood, the tree flexed and groaned, then snapped in half at their feet. Leaves rustled through the air. Branches crackled on the grassy earth.
Safi stared at the fallen winterwood. “Now how in the Nine Stones do we get a whole tree out of here!”
“Chop it again, fool!” Raven said, pointing a trembling finger.
Safi held her breath and raised the woodcutting axe high.
“No!” Raven cried. Her left hand appeared at Safi’s elbow, twitching furiously. “More to the right—it’s got to be long enough to make a sword!”
Safi sidestepped to the right, axe high and gleaming. This was more like it. Now she could use her full strength. She exhaled hard and brought the head arcing downward. The blow nearly cut the trunk in half.
“Again!” Raven said, starting for the fence, then hurrying back to her side.
“I know.” Safi bared her teeth and raised the woodcutting axe. The following blow split the trunk from its leafy crown. Raven snatched the axe from her hands and sprinted towards the fence, rope slithering through the grass behind her.
“Raven!” Safi called. She wrapped her arms around the tree and lifted. The entire trunk seemed to leap into the air. Setting it over her shoulder, she sprinted hard, kicking up grass and dirt as she pursued her friend.
She found Raven at the base of the fence, rope in hand, spinning the woodcutting axe over her head. Then came a series of desperate throws, attempting to clear the top. Feeling the tree on her shoulder, Safi no longer doubted Raven’s plan. A sword made from winterwood would be not only lightweight, but fast.
Fast enough for Safi to score three points in the sword ring, even against a fifth-year like Noth.
“Halt!” shouted a gruff male voice, some distance behind her. An enforcer’s voice. “Identify yourselves!”
That is, if they didn’t get caught tonight and spend the rest of the year in the stockades.
By the time she caught up, Raven had the axe in place and the rope ready for climbing. Safi was impressed. Expedience, it seemed, was a terrific motivator. She heard the thumping of boots on grass approaching behind them.
“Gotta work fast.” Raven looped the rope around the trunk in mad succession. Safi tried her best to hold it still. Then Raven tied a knot even less sensible than the first. She pulled the rope taut and began to climb. Safi rolled the winterwood off her shoulder and clambered up behind her.
As Raven crested the top, her shoe slipped off the fence post and struck Safi right in the jaw. “Sorry!” she chirped, maneuvering to the opposite side, still holding tight to the woodcutting axe.
Feeling nauseous, and trying her best to not look down, Safi swung her legs and pulled with her arms, vaulting over the railing. She grabbed at the fence to slow her fall, but her gloves were filthy with mud. So she caught Raven with one arm instead, the woodcutting axe with the other. Then her right hand slipped and came down on the edge.
The blade sliced through her glove and into her palm. Safi screamed and snapped her hand away. Then, clinging desperately to Raven’s waist, and with all their weight on one side of the rope, the girls descended fast. They landed heavily on their feet and collapsed to the ground in a heap.
Whimpering from the pain, Safi turned her head and spotted the closest enforcer, scowling under the torchlight. His red cape was fluttering, thick legs pumping—coming towards them, fast. With some effort, she pushed Raven’s limp body aside and felt around in the dust, finding the haft of the woodcutting axe with her bleeding right hand.
Safi forced herself to her feet, wound the axe and its rope twice around her waist, and sprinted away from the fence. Ten paces in, she heard the clang of metal on wood. The rope jerked taut, so she dropped to her knees and crawled, kicking and clawing dirt.
Raven stumbled up behind her, looking loose on her feet. “Gotta give it some slack,” she said, taking Safi’s upper arm and helping her off her knees. Together they faced the fence and eased the rope forward. Safi watched as the closest enforcer went slamming into the iron pickets.
“In the name of the warden,” he roared, thrusting his torch through the fence and waving it back and forth, “step forth and identify yourselves, now!”
Raven yanked her hood down over her face. “Pull, Blondie!” she said. “Pull hard!”
The girls threw themselves backwards. Safi’s right hand ripped with pain. The log banged against the fence, cleared the spikes at the top, and fell to the ground with a crunch.
The enforcer dropped his torch in surprise. He grasped the fence and humored a climb, but slipped back down to the grass. “You boys won’t get away with this!”
Safi and Raven looked at one another and burst
into laughter. Rope in hand, they dashed towards Lazar’s Crossing, winterwood dragging behind them. Safi glanced back at the meadow. A dozen torches had gathered, and the enforcers were shouting threats into the sleepy autumn wind. Some of the torches veered left, towards the oasis gate to pursue them.
Raven shook off her hood. Her eyes were green and bright. Her teeth looked whiter than the moon. Safi gave her a friendly slap on the back, and together they ran cackling into the night.
53
An Unexpected Visit II
Safi slowed to a stumble as Raven thrust one foot forward, skidding to a stop beside her. They put their hands on their knees, gasping for breath, and listened to the slow, steady thump of wood crunching dust behind them…
“THE WINTERWOOD!” Raven said.
Shrieking, Safi jumped onto her chest with both hands clasped over her head. The log whirled past her feet, bounced thrice off a series of small gray stones, and came slamming back to the ground. She yelped as the rope, wound tightly around her waist, began dragging her hips through the dust. She clung to the nearest Titan stone until the tension went slack.
A few deep breaths later, there was stillness in the night.
“We’ve gotta hurry,” Raven said, limping after the winterwood tree.
Knees wobbling, body alight with pain, it took Safi several attempts to stand back up. She tugged at the rope at her waist, found it tangled and stuck. So she rolled it down her hips and legs, leaving it strewn on the ground beside the woodcutting axe.
The girls fell to their knees on each side of the winterwood log. During their run, the intricate knot at its center had tightened into a simple lump. Raven scooted close, picking at her handiwork with nimble, twitching fingers. Safi joined the effort with her good left hand, furrowing her thick eyebrows. “I could go and fetch the axe,” she proposed.
Raven shook her hair back and forth. “No, no. I’ve almost got it.”
A minute of pinching and pulling later, Safi thumped the log with the heel of her fist. “Did you have to knot it so damned tight?”