Archon

by Lana Krumwiede

  Amma grinned. “You did it!”

  “Did you doubt that I could?” Gevri asked.

  “Of course not,” Amma said. “You just seemed distracted, is all.”

  “I need to take a look at these kites before we try to fly them,” Taemon said. He tried to stand but ended up right back on his hind end. As humiliating as it was, he had to crawl over to the nearest kite to look at it.

  “Gevri, these joints aren’t strong enough. It won’t hold when the wind pulls it.”

  “I did my best,” Gevri said.

  “You’re going to have to do it again. This was a good try for your first time, but you have to do better. Look at the sketches again, and try to get your kites to look exactly the same. Be more precise with your dominion.”

  Gevri blew out a breath. “Can’t we just fix it by hand? Look, I can lash this part and —”

  A rustling in the brush stopped him short. They exchanged panicked glances.

  “It’s them, all right!” an amplified voice shouted.

  “Over here!” came the reply.

  The soldiers were coming. Their time was up.

  “Do it again, Gevri.” Taemon kept his voice calm but firm. “Do it right, and do it now.”

  This time there was no arguing. To his credit, Gevri didn’t panic. He closed his eyes and took another breath, and when he opened his eyes, the kites began to disassemble and then reassemble.

  The whole thing took less than a minute.

  Amma ran to hold on to the kites. Already they were being lifted by the breeze. “Hurry,” she said. “Strap yourself in. Gevri, you get Taemon’s uncle.”

  Gevri froze. “I can’t go without Jix!”

  “We need you, Gevri,” Amma said. “Neither Taemon’s uncle nor I can fly a kite on our own. And Taemon isn’t strong enough to fly both kites by himself.”

  The tromping sounds from the underbrush were getting closer. “You have to decide. Right now,” Taemon said. “You can stay behind and wait for Jix and tell the soldiers that you were our prisoner. Or you can help us and come with us to Deliverance, to Nathan’s City.”

  Taemon saw the anguish on Gevri’s face. “I . . . I’m coming.”

  It took another minute to secure the ropes around their arms and torsos, Gevri and Uncle Fierre in one kite, Amma and Taemon in the other. From what Taemon could see, the kite looked sound, but there was no time for a closer inspection.

  “We have to run,” Amma said, “and try to get more lift.”

  It took only a few strides before the wind grabbed them and pulled them upward — more quickly than Taemon would have thought. He felt the vine ropes dig into him as the kite rose.

  Just as they became airborne, the soldiers came into view, pointing and shouting. The kite was only a couple of stories off the ground, and already the soldiers looked small.

  Then Taemon realized that they were small, much younger than the soldiers who had chased them through Kanjai. At least they weren’t his archons; he doubted the general would send seven duds on such an important mission.

  “We made it!” Gevri shouted.

  The words were barely out when the air was filled with tiny objects. Rocks! The archons were using dominion to throw rocks at the kites!

  Suddenly, Amma and Taemon’s kite lurched violently to one side. One of the rocks had sliced through a wing.

  “Higher!” Amma shouted. “We have to get higher.”

  Taemon felt a sting as a rock glanced off the side of his foot. “Gevri!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Use dominion to mend the kites!”

  “I’ve never done something like that before!” Gevri shouted back.

  “Try!” Taemon said.

  A jolt rocked their kite, and Taemon knew Gevri was having trouble steering and mending the kites at the same time.

  Suddenly, Taemon and Amma’s kite started wobbling wildly. “Take it easy!” Taemon shouted.

  He looked down to see that they were not just wobbling, but wobbling earthward. On the ground, the group of archons scrambled to follow their trajectory. More rocks were hitting their targets, and Taemon noticed two new holes in the wings. The kite wouldn’t hold up much longer.

  “Gevri!” Taemon yelled.

  “I’m trying!” Gevri yelled back.

  Amma gasped, and Taemon looked to see if a rock had hit her. Her eyes were wide with panic, and her face was red. Very red.

  “Amma, what is it?” he asked. When the vine ropes started to tighten around Taemon’s chest, he understood: now that they were lower to the ground, the archons could see the ropes well enough to visualize them tightening. The flight of the tarp kites was going to be much shorter than they’d hoped.

  A roar broke through the wind in Taemon’s ears. He turned to see Jix bounding into the middle of the archons, scattering them.

  “Jix!” Gevri cried.

  The ropes immediately loosened, and Taemon could breathe again. A gasp from Amma told him she was breathing, too.

  The archons had turned their dominion toward the jaguar and were pelting her with rocks, but she stood her ground.

  The kites bobbled a little as Gevri watched the battle below.

  “Stay focused!” Taemon shouted. Up ahead, a jagged outcropping of rocks loomed.

  But Gevri was still looking down. Taemon glanced down, too — just in time to see the jaguar stumble and fall to her side. The archons were on the beast in seconds.

  “Jix!” Gevri sobbed. “Jix!”

  “She did it for you!” Amma yelled. “So you could get away. But you have to steer the kites!”

  At the last second, Gevri pulled the kites up over the rocks. Gevri’s sobs had ceased, and all four kite riders were silent as they glided higher, then higher still. Taemon expected to be terrified, hanging from a vine rope this high over the mountain, with its jagged, rocky teeth ready to chew him to bits. But instead, with the soft breezes blowing around him and the sun rising ahead, lighting up the mountainside with pinks and yellows, he felt relaxed and full of hope for the future.

  The only sadness was Jix. She’d done a noble thing, giving them a chance to escape. He thought of Moke, who had also given his life so Taemon could succeed. When someone gives you a chance like that, you shouldn’t waste it, he thought.

  As they passed over the peak of the mountain, Taemon finally knew what the word majesty meant. The landscape spread out before him was lush with shades of brown and green in some parts, white and snowy and mysterious in others. He caught a glimpse of a jagged stream and recognized it as the one they had followed on the way to the tunnel. The rising sun glinted off its surface.

  “Follow the stream,” Taemon called to Gevri.

  They descended slowly, smoothly. The sign of the Eagle came to Taemon’s mind — the sign of achievement, of overcoming obstacles.

  “Tell me where you want me to land,” Gevri called.

  Taemon scanned the tree-dotted land below for a suitable landing spot. When he saw a clearing, he pointed it out to Gevri. “Over there!”

  The kite banked and turned toward the clearing. It was small, but it was the best spot around.

  Lower and lower they dropped, until Taemon wondered if his feet would skim the treetops. Ahead, there was one last tall tree just before the clearing. If they could clear that, it would be a smooth landing.

  Gevri’s kite cleared the tree just fine. But as Taemon and Amma’s kite approached the tree, a gust of wind blew their kite to one side. The wingtip caught a tree limb, sending the kite into a spin. With much crashing and snapping, they landed in the tree just before the clearing.

  When the kite settled, Amma called out, “You okay?”

  “I’m a lot better than this kite is,” said Taemon, pulling leaves out of his hair.

  “Can you climb down?”

  Taemon tested his limbs. They seemed a little more functional than before. The flight had given his body time to relax. With careful maneuvering and some help from Amma, he reached the ground with only a fe
w more scratches.

  “All right,” Amma said, turning around. “Let’s see where Gevri and your uncle —”

  Taemon turned, too — then froze. Standing before them was a thin, lean man with stringy hair hanging over deep-set eyes.

  He pointed an arrow first at Amma, then at Taemon.

  “Well, well. If it isn’t our old friends from the asylum. Won’t Free Will be happy to see you two young’uns?”

  Gevri, Uncle Fierre, Amma, and Taemon had their hands tied behind their backs. Uncle Fierre was conscious, but just barely. One of Free Will’s men kept having to prop him back up whenever he started to slump.

  Gevri had a wild look in his eye, as if he might do something desperate at any second.

  Amma must have seen the same thing. “Gevri, don’t. Not now.” That seemed to be enough to keep him calm for the moment.

  Taemon looked at Uncle Fierre and wondered if he even knew where he was. That poor man had been through the flames and back. He hadn’t even spoken since they’d left the dungeon.

  Taemon couldn’t believe their terrible luck — to escape the archons and the Republik only to land right next to Free Will’s camp. Seemed like the Heart of the Earth was having a bit of fun with them.

  Free Will’s men took them through the woods to another clearing. This one held a large grouping of tents, like some sort of makeshift village. They were led to one of the larger tents. Inside, the light was dim. Taemon could smell the sharp, piney odor of the resin that made it waterproof, which reminded him of camping with Da and Yens back when he was little. Back before people kept chasing him over mountains and tying his hands behind his back and pointing arrows at him.

  The tent flap opened, and two figures stepped inside. It was too dark to make out their features.

  “Free Will wants to see the long-haired one first,” said one of the figures. A woman. “Grab him.”

  Scuffling noises told Taemon that Gevri was being escorted out of the tent.

  Taemon waited till all was quiet. “Amma?” he whispered.

  “I’m here,” she said faintly. “So’s Fierre.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “A little banged up from our run-in with the tree, and a little peeved at being kidnapped. But all in all I’d say I’m good.”

  Leave it to Amma to be so calm under these circumstances!

  The two figures came back, and this time the woman told them to take Uncle Fierre.

  “Be careful!” Taemon said. “He’s hurt!”

  “Don’t worry none,” she said. “We got ourselves a healer.”

  They left again, and Taemon was just about to suggest to Amma that they try to stand back-to-back and untie each other’s hands when the tent flap opened again.

  “Let’s go,” the woman said gruffly. “Free Will wants to see you two.”

  Taemon and Amma were hustled out of the tent. The sunlight nearly blinded Taemon, but the fresh, cold air felt wonderful. They were led to a larger tent that had a table set up in the center.

  Once again, Taemon’s eyes had to adjust. He could see the vague shape of a figure seated at the table in front of them, but it was too dim in the tent for him to make out any features.

  “It’s really you,” the figure whispered. A man — and a voice that seemed familiar. “Thank the Skies!”

  It sounded like . . . but it couldn’t possibly be . . .

  “Da?” Taemon whispered.

  The man stood and walked around the table. As he stepped closer, Taemon could begin to make out his features. He was older and thinner and had a haunted look in his eyes. But there was no denying it.

  It was Da!

  “Skies be praised! It really is you!” He pulled Taemon into a hug.

  A hug. From Da! His face against Da’s shoulder, Taemon took a deep breath and smelled the scent of Da. Felt the pressure of his embrace. This was no illusion.

  He remembered all the times he’d tagged along with Da in his workshop or helped him in the garden. All that time spent with Da, and this was the first hug he remembered. Sure, there had been times when Da had ruffled Taemon’s hair or patted his back, but all that was done with psi. Psi had robbed him of his father’s touch.

  Taemon felt the ropes on his hands being cut. As soon as his arms were free, he hugged Da in return. “I thought you were in the Republik. I went there to find you, but it was Uncle Fierre.”

  Da stepped back and held Taemon’s shoulders. “And you brought him back. I can never thank you enough. I heard the rumor that they’d taken Fierre over the mountain. I hoped it wasn’t true.”

  “I heard it was you they’d taken. Mam said they took her darling.”

  “Fierre was Darling Houser, not me. That’s what they used to call him back when he was a psiball player. The best one on the Emerald team. ‘Darling’ was his nickname; all the girls used to call him that.” Da chuckled.

  “I . . . I never heard that story.”

  “It was long before your time. Eons ago, it seems. So much has changed.”

  Taemon rubbed his hands. “Da, I need to tell you something. A lot of somethings, actually. . . . I’m not really sure where to begin. . . .”

  “Perhaps you can begin by introducing me to your friend.” Da smiled down at Amma.

  “Oh! Right!” Taemon said. How could he have forgotten Amma? “This is Amma Parvel. She’s from the colony. She’s my friend.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Houser,” Amma said, extending her hand.

  Da hesitated briefly before shaking her hand. He laughed. “That still takes a bit of getting used to for me! But please, call me Wiljamen. It suits me better than Mr. Houser — or Free Will, for that matter!”

  Taemon gawped. “You’re Free Will?”

  Da waved dismissively. “Somebody came up with that name for me in the asylum. I was always spouting off about the right to make your own choices. You know me.” Da chuckled. “I guess the name stuck.”

  “But Free Will is a thief and a murderer!” Taemon said, still aghast.

  “Rumors, all of them. Ones that we started, too. We knew we needed to strike a bit of fear into the hearts of the curious just to be sure we were left alone. And it was imperative that we be left alone. Most of these people were in the asylums for years. They’re just learning how to take care of themselves. They’re not ready for society — especially a society that’s fallen to pieces.

  “I’m trying to teach them how to live at peace with the planet, with the Heart of the Earth. The need for peace in your heart doesn’t change, psi or no psi. That’s what the priests never understood.”

  Someone spoke from outside the tent. “Ahoy, Free Will!”

  “Enter,” Taemon’s da called.

  A man carrying a large tray of food entered the tent. He laid it out on the table before Taemon and Amma. Wild turkey with onions. Sweet tubers. And dandelion greens, which made Amma and Taemon glance at each other and smile.

  “What about Gevri? Did you take him food?” Taemon asked.

  “Is that his name?” Da asked. “It’s more than he told us. But yes, of course, we’ll see that he’s fed. Whatever possessed you to bring a Republikite across the mountain, though, Taemon?”

  It was as good an opening as any. They spent the next two hours talking. Taemon told Da all about his time in the powerless colony and about meeting his aunt Challis, who’d been sent there when she was just a child. Amma told him about the library and her family’s charge to protect the books, and explained that the books had been stolen by Elder Naseph and were now in the hands of a Republikite general.

  Da listened in awe as Taemon confessed to being the True Son and to speaking with the Heart of the Earth. Before the Fall, Da had been a religion teacher, and Taemon could see how amazed and humbled his da was by this news.

  Then, of course, Taemon had to confess to making the decision to take away psi.

  “You did the right thing,” Da said. “Only the True Son could have done it. Who else knows what you’v
e done?”

  “Only Amma and Challis, and now you.”

  Da nodded. “Perhaps we keep it that way for now. You should think carefully before deciding how and when to tell people that you’re the True Son.”

  “But everyone is so angry,” Taemon said. “I thought we would all come together, the colonists and the city dwellers alike, and learn to live a simpler, truer kind of life. But people refuse to give up hope that the old ways will return. And now we’re defenseless, and a whole army of archons might be headed this way!”

  “An army of what?” Da asked.

  And so Taemon launched into a recap of the last few weeks, of his and Amma’s perilous trip to the Republik and everything that had happened there. He told Da and Amma all about General Sarin, Captain Dehue, and the archon soldiers.

  “They know about the tunnel,” Taemon said. “At least the general does. What’s to stop them from following us here and attacking Deliverance while it’s defenseless?”

  Da sat back and crossed his arms. It was a thoughtful pose that Taemon knew well.

  “Does the general actually know that the city is defenseless? Does he know that you did away with psi?”

  Taemon shook his head slowly. “No. I don’t think so. There have been no messages from the city since the Fall, and I certainly didn’t tell him. Not even Gevri knows the truth.”

  Amma harrumphed a bit at that, but Da was nodding.

  “Then there’s no reason to believe that the general would strike anytime soon. He’s expecting to meet powerful resistance. My guess is that he’ll sit tight and plot his next move carefully. But if what he feels for Gevri is even a fraction of what I feel for you and Yens, he’ll come after his son. I can guarantee that.”

  Taemon frowned. “I think he thinks of Gevri more as his property than as his son. He experimented on him, for Skies’ sake!”

  “Well,” Da said sadly, “he may want him back for that reason, then.”

  They picked at the rest of the food, and Da filled Taemon in on what he’d missed since he’d been sent to the colony. Not long after Yens had been declared the True Son, Da and Mam had been sent to asylums on suspicion of insubordination. “They separate family members,” Da said bitterly. “Makes the patients more pliable.”