by J. F. Penn
Perry pointed at a patch of soft ground beneath the canopy of trees with boulders for shelter and support. “This seems good enough.” He sank to the forest floor, rolling onto his back, eyes beginning to close already. “Who’s taking first watch?”
“I can,” Zoe said. “I’m not sleepy right now.”
Sienna didn’t argue. Now they were out of the cave system, a wave of exhaustion broke over her. Her legs trembled with the aftermath of the soul’s connection, her head aching from the intensity of the cavern adventure. Mila looked just as weary as she curled up beside Perry, tugging her coat around her shoulders.
Sienna turned to Zoe. “Wake me in a few hours. I’ll take over from you.”
Zoe nodded and clambered up onto one of the boulders. She sat cross-legged on the rock and looked up toward the stars shining brightly above. A moonbeam touched the young woman’s hair with a silver sheen and Sienna caught the peaceful smile that spread across her face.
She turned away and lay down next to Mila, pulling her pack under her head as a pillow. A tendril of fear snaked into her mind as she closed her eyes. Would there be demons in her nightmares, creatures of smoke and claw? But this time, the wave of fatigue swept her into oblivion.
Zoe relished the time alone, her mind still circling around the events in the caves. She had entered the chambers as an outsider but she had emerged with a sense of connection with the Mapwalker team, a knowledge that her magic was just as useful as theirs — and dare she think it? Perhaps even more so.
She looked down at her sleeping friends; her gaze lingering on Perry. His fingers twitched as if he dreamed of wielding his magic, and Zoe remembered how he had looked in the cave of the ibis. His hands raised within a tower of flame, his muscular frame silhouetted against the blaze, every inch like a young god of fire. They were so different and yet, there was a connection between them.
Zoe smiled as she leaned back against the cool of the rock and looked up at the stars, shifting her gaze to let the weave of the world emerge once more. The strings appeared more quickly this time, shimmering strands of silver and shadow and hues of green from the forest. All life was woven together and Zoe wondered how much she could manipulate these filaments, creating new things. Perhaps destroying them, too.
A crack in the forest. The snap of a branch.
Zoe sat up sharply and peered around at the thick trees, suddenly less of a haven and more a forbidding place of hard wood and sharp spines.
She looked down at the sleeping Mapwalker team. They were all exhausted, slumbering deeply. She didn’t want to wake them and it was most likely one of the forest creatures going about its nightly hunt. She was just jumpy. There was nothing to worry about.
But as she turned back, a flash of silver caught the moonlight. A shadowy figure loomed over her. She opened her mouth to scream a warning, but a sharp pain at her temple turned everything black.
A chorus of birdsong woke Sienna as the sky turned from inky blue to pastel shades, the stars fading as light returned to the forest. She had slept all night and missed her turn at the watch. For a moment, she was grateful for it. Her body had regained its strength, and the creatures of the cavern were only a memory now they were out in the fresh air. But someone else must have taken her turn.
She sat up, noting that Mila and Perry were only just waking up beside her.
“Zoe,” Sienna called up to the top of the rock. “Are you there?”
No answer. Just the call of birds warbling and whistling above.
Sienna rolled to her feet, unease rising within as she walked around the boulder and then clambered up onto it. Zoe was nowhere to be seen, her pack left discarded on the top of the rock.
Mila sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What is it? Did we sleep through?”
Sienna jumped down, pack in hand. “Zoe’s not here.”
“I’m sure she’s just in the trees somewhere. She can’t have gone far.” Perry got to his feet, shaking sleep from his limbs, and clambered up the rock. “Zoe!”
Birds flew from the treetops at his cry, winging across the ever-lightening sky toward the jagged peaks beyond. But there was no answering call, no footsteps from the forest.
Perry pointed to a gap in the trees. “What’s that? It looks different from last night.”
Sienna jogged over to where the treeline parted into a semblance of a path, Mila and Perry right behind her. The carefully piled cairn of stones was now strewn across the track and next to it, a huge footprint in the dust.
“What is that?” Perry hunkered down to look more closely. “It’s more animal than human but like nothing I’ve seen before.”
Sienna’s stomach turned at the sight of it. They had not left the Shadow behind in the cave system. Perhaps their use of magic had even alerted whatever ruled this area of the Borderlands. Whatever it was, it had Zoe.
13
Sienna crouched by Mila as they examined the footprint more carefully. “It could be a mutant,” Mila said. “One of those bred by the Shadow Cartographers. But why take Zoe?”
Perry stood and looked down the path, his face etched with concern. “It doesn’t matter why. We have to go after her. We can track it, follow its path.”
Mila shook her head. “We have to get to the Tower of the Winds. Our mission is to help Bridget re-open the border. Every moment we delay, Earthside suffers further. Zoe knew the risks when she—”
“No,” Sienna cut in sharply. “We go after Zoe. We need her.” She stood and spun on her heel, walking back to where the packs lay, her face flushed as she thought of the Weaver. The way ahead wasn’t clear, but she knew Zoe was important somehow. And besides, they couldn’t leave her in the camp of the mutants. Sienna thought back to Xander’s end, sucked dry of his magic and life force by the coldly beautiful Elf. She would not leave another of the team to die so far from home.
Sienna picked up her pack. “We need to get going. They’re hours ahead of us already.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Mila said, shaking her head as she grabbed her pack.
Perry snatched his up, shouldering Zoe’s as well and strode into the forest.
Together they walked under the trees as morning light broke through the canopy, dappling the way ahead. The path wound past thick trunks, torchwood and ebony amongst them, hard tropical trees no longer so densely packed on Earthside, cleared for timber and other crops. Sienna spotted orchids as they walked by, bright colors of purple and scarlet, a glimpse of beauty in a dangerous land.
She had heard of the camp of the mutants, new species cultivated by the Shadow Cartographers, bred from humans with different magical powers to enable new strains to emerge. She remembered the Fertility Halls in the Castle of the Shadow, Finn’s face as his sister died in his arms, his niece taken for the cause. She wondered where he was now, whether he thought of her at all. Finn had made it clear that his path lay in the Borderlands, whereas her allegiance would always be to Earthside. She had thought they could somehow make a future together, but it seemed impossible right now.
The forest path emerged at the base of a rock face pitted with fissures as if gouged by giant talons. Jagged peaks spiked into the sky toward the sun. It burned hot now they were out of the shade of the forest, the air more humid. Sienna wiped her brow of sweat as she searched for the way ahead.
She had a sense of time ticking down to some imagined countdown, when Earthside would crumple into the hard border, triggering an unstoppable series of natural disasters that would devastate her home. Yet being here shifted her perspective and made her wonder whether it was time for such a dramatic change in fortunes. Time for a new power to rise.
Sienna shook her head, banishing the thought that seemed to come from nowhere. Her skin burned under her t-shirt, and she sensed the whorls of shadow spinning ever faster. Was she transforming now she grew closer to the source?
“Are you okay?” Mila asked, putting a hand on Sienna’s arm.
Sienna gave a faint smile. “J
ust over-heating, I guess.” She pointed ahead. “We need to hurry. I don’t think we have much time.”
Zoe woke to a jolting rhythm, a bump-bump stride that jerked her into consciousness. She half-wondered why the rock beneath her moved, then remembered the shadowy figure looming above before all went black. She opened her eyes and froze as she looked up at the thing that carried her.
A craggy face with skin cracked like dried mud, muscles heaped like sacks of rock under a tunic stretched tight over its colossal body. It smelled like moss and minerals leaching from a mountain stream. As Zoe shifted, it stopped walking and looked down at her. Something like a smile crossed its face, a wide mouth opening like a cleft in stone, eyes like tiny emeralds hidden in the crevices.
“He likes you.”
Zoe turned in the creature’s arms to see a young girl, perhaps ten years old, blonde hair in messy plaits tied with twine, wearing a tunic the color of ripe olives. She signed with her hands and the living rock placed Zoe gently on the ground. She found her legs a little unsteady, and it held an arm out for her to lean against. There was consideration in the gesture, but Zoe understood that its docile manner would change if she tried to run. She glanced around at the high cliffs surrounding them, serrated edges like flint knives spiked with cactus and thorny scrub. There was nowhere to run to, anyway.
The girl approached and examined Zoe, looking her up and down with a maturity far beyond her age. “You have a strange aura. I’ve never sensed it before. What magic can you do?”
Zoe frowned. “You can sense magic?”
The girl nodded. “I see colors and textures around those with ability and I can usually tell what they can do. We’re scouts, me and Hashim.” She reached out a small hand and stroked the creature’s arm. It was a familiar gesture, a touch of connection between friends. But as much as Zoe found these two fascinating, she had to figure out a way to get back to the Mapwalker team.
“Who are you scouting for?”
The girl looked puzzled. “Who else? The silver-haired one and the old man. They offer good coin for such as you. We need to take supplies back for my family and your trade will mean we can return with food.” Her eyes darted away. “Maybe even medicine. My little brother …”
As her words trailed off, Zoe wondered how it was possible that this young girl was the only way her family could get the supplies they needed. It was a glimpse into a side of the Borderlands she had never appreciated before. This was not some utopian world of magic and plenty. It was a land of desperately poor people ruled by an upper class of Shadow Cartographers whose obsession with reclaiming Earthside reduced all to poverty. If they would only spend their energy building and improving what they had, this side of the border could prosper.
“I sensed there were others with you,” the girl continued. “Maybe one with greater power than yours, but I have seen her kind before. I’ve seen no one like you.” She came closer, this time reaching out a hand to caress the air around Zoe’s face, like a blind girl reading features with touch. “It’s beautiful.”
Zoe didn’t sense any danger from the pair and yet she knew their destination might lead to her end. They might not know what happened to those they delivered up — or they chose to ignore it — but Zoe understood loyalty to family above all else. Perhaps she would do the same in their position.
She shifted her vision to examine the strings of the world around, allowing the weave of nature to come into focus. After the cave, she knew her magic was strong enough to manipulate the strands. She could trap these two and then escape into the labyrinth of rocks — but the use of magic would sap her energy and exchange drops of shadow for its use, the toll greater if used here in the Borderlands. The Mapwalker team would surely look for her once they woke and would come in this direction. She would bide her time for now and wait a little longer.
“I’m a Weaver. My name is Zoe.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “A Weaver. Oh, my. You’re worth so much.” She skipped around in a tight circle, plaits flying, dancing with joy as she beamed with pleasure. The rocky hulk of Hashim shook and then a booming laugh rang out at his friend’s delight. Zoe couldn’t help but join in, giggling a little at the strange scene, even as she questioned why the hell she might be so valuable.
The girl stopped spinning. “I’m Callen.” She held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Weaver Zoe.”
Zoe shook her hand with appropriate solemnity, wondering if the pair treated all their captives so well.
Callen turned suddenly, looking back into the forest, as if hearing a far-off sound. “We need to get moving. Your friends are on the trail, but we will trade well before they arrive.”
Zoe hadn’t realized they were so close to the camp. She had to get away.
She raised her hands, focusing on the strands of light and shadow — but the giant Hashim folded his bulky arms around her, crushing her to his chest. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe.
Callen stepped in closer, transformed from a charming little girl to the steely eyed bounty hunter once more.
“You don’t have to do this,” Zoe gasped. “I can help your family. Please don’t—”
Hashim squeezed more tightly, cutting off her pleas.
Callen remained silent as she clambered up onto Hashim’s back, riding his shoulders as if they were one creature, a strange pairing in a land of aberration.
The mutant lifted Zoe up, locking her into a vice of stone. He stood and strode on past the towering cliffs, each stride ten times that of a man. Zoe knew that the Mapwalker team would never reach her in time. She would face the mutant camp alone.
14
“It’s not far now.” Titus pointed to the flank of the mountain, the blush of dawn painting it in shades of coral and amber. “The munitions dump is on the edge there, near the snow line to keep it cool and away from the major trade routes.”
Finn hunkered down on a log and made a small fire, boiling up water for coffee while they both ate in silence from the supplies of meat and bread that Kabila had given them. Both men were used to marching on military rations, so they ate quickly and before long, they were heading up the side of the mountain.
Titus scanned the rocky escarpment above, pointing out features of the slope. “It’s between three points — the summit, the woman’s profile, and a dead tree struck by lightning. The cache is equidistant from each.”
They zigzagged up the side, navigating the scree and patches of scrub where tiny wild flowers grew, purple against green. Finn found his breath ragged as they climbed, the slope becoming ever steeper.
Finally, a dead tree came into view, its stark white limbs reaching for blue sky as the sun burned down upon them. Titus turned to scan the surrounding area, then pointed at a rocky outcrop a little higher and to the east. “There.”
Finn supposed it could be a woman’s profile at a stretch, but Titus seemed sure and set off to climb higher, picking up his pace as they neared their goal. Finn turned to look back over the plain. They were high above the forest line now and below, the trader town stretched to the coastline, the sea shimmering beyond to the horizon. It looked so peaceful from up here, with no sense of the suffering that lay within its streets. But as much as this wild place had a stark beauty, Finn was a city boy, and his life blood beat to the pulse of a faster pace of life. If he survived this mission, he would return to Old Aleppo and liberate it from the iron grip of his father. Perhaps Sienna would even join him and they would eat oranges together in the market in a time of peace.
He shook his head and gave a rueful laugh. If only life could be so simple.
“Come and help me!” Titus shouted down from higher up. He was on his knees by a thorn bush, scrabbling at the ground.
Finn hurried up the slope and together, they cleared the rocks and dug down into the ground beneath.
“There should be enough explosives in here to destroy the main crop.” Titus grinned in anticipation at what they would find. “It’s been way too long sin
ce I’ve done some proper demolition, but I’m sure I’ll get back into the swing of it.”
They soon hit upon a metal trunk and as the sun rose high overhead, they levered the lid open and revealed what lay within.
Finn sat back on the hard ground, staring into the chest with despair. It was completely filled with rocks, hiding the fact that the explosives had been taken long ago.
Titus picked up one of the stones and hurled it down the slope with a violent shout. He picked up another, then another, throwing until he exhausted his frustration.
“We’ll go on anyway,” Finn said. “We don’t know what we’ll find at the camp. Maybe fertilizer you can use. There will surely be something explosive.”
Titus sat down heavily and sighed. “You’re right. I just hoped this would give us some advantage. It’s the two of us against whatever is out there. We have no chance.”
Finn pulled out a flask of water and took a sip before passing it over to Titus. “There’s always a chance. Besides, what else do you want to do now? We can at least scout the camp and if it’s impossible to destroy the crop, we’ll return to the Resistance for reinforcements.” He pointed back to the trader town. “Think of all the people down there taking Liberation, addicts getting their fix, women carrying monsters. Every day that drug is loose it corrupts more Borderlanders and turns them to the Shadow.”
“Or leaves them dead in its wake,” Titus said quietly. “So we go on.” He pointed up the face of the mountain. “It’s faster to go up and over than around at lower altitude. If the weather holds, that is. The forest lower down ends in towering pinnacles of rock and a labyrinth of stone needles. It’s hard to navigate. If we descend from above, we can at least figure out the best way into the camp.”
They both stood and brushed down their clothes, then set off up the mountain, faces set toward the peak, footsteps even, breath panting as they rose higher.