Archon

by Lana Krumwiede

  Apparently Da had been his usual outspoken self, even after his own son had been put forward as the chosen one. Elder Naseph had locked them away to keep them from spreading their “perfidious lies.” But Da had organized an escape and had gone looking for Mam. He had nearly been caught a dozen times, but he and his fellow inmates were wily and had gotten away each time. Their antics led to Free Will’s reputation as a leader of a marauding group of madmen, which Da used to his advantage, stockpiling gear from terrified citizens and forcing information from others.

  “You never found her?” Taemon asked, fearing the moment when he would have to explain to his da what had happened to Mam.

  Da stared at the scarred surface of the table. “Oh, I found her all right.” He took a shuddering breath. “But her condition was . . . They’d filled her with so many drugs that she didn’t recognize me. She didn’t even know her own name, for Skies’ sake!” He blinked back tears. “I tried to get her out, son. I swear to Holy Mother Earth. I did! But she panicked — and why wouldn’t she? I was a stranger as far as she knew. She started causing such a scene. . . .” He trailed off, and Taemon only had to look at his da’s face to know that he was leaving out the worst of it. “In the end, I thought it best to leave her behind. I didn’t know what effect a sudden withdrawal of the drugs might have on her, if she could survive it. At least there were trained healers in the asylum, which was more than I could say for my ragged band at the time. I posted some of my best men to watch over her. And then I left her.”

  His voice broke, and he had to look away. Taemon remembered the asylum where he’d found Mam, hidden away in her room with all those brooms and mops. Whatever healers had once worked at the asylum were long gone by the time Taemon had gotten there.

  “I thought you might come looking for me or your mother, so I instructed my men to bring you to me the minute you showed your face,” Da said. “But you proved to be just as wily as your old man.”

  They shared a sad smile, then Taemon asked, “So you know about Mam? That she’s in the colony, I mean? And she hasn’t woken up?”

  Da nodded. “I have a woman posted at the colony who’s been keeping me informed of your mam’s condition. The good news is that it hasn’t worsened.”

  Da was trying to be reassuring, Taemon knew, but a part of him had hoped to hear that Mam was awake and talking after all this time.

  A quiet moment passed as Taemon thought about Mam and prayed she would be all right. “We already lost Yens,” Taemon whispered, blinking back tears. “We can’t lose Mam, too.”

  Amma reached out and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

  Da hesitated. “Skies, no one’s told you, have they?”

  Taemon’s blood chilled, expecting the worst. “Told me what?”

  “Yens is alive.”

  Amma gasped.

  “What?” A strange mix of emotions coursed through Taemon.

  “It’s true,” Da said. “Yens and Naseph and all the priests survived the earthquake. Apparently the temple had secret underground passages.”

  “Why didn’t they show themselves right away, let everyone know they were okay?” Taemon asked. Let me know I hadn’t inadvertently caused my own brother’s death, he thought.

  “They said they were praying for the True Son’s psi to come back and didn’t want to return to power until their prayers were answered.” Da made a scoffing noise. “I think they’ve been waiting for people to be desperate enough to believe their lies and tricks.”

  Taemon shook his head slowly and tried to make sense of it. It was good news. Of course it was. But it meant that he would have to resolve things with his brother. It was good to have a chance to do that, he reminded himself. But was it even possible?

  When they had talked themselves out, Da led the way across the tent city, which looked surprisingly organized. Taemon noticed that as they walked by, everyone watched them and nodded deferentially to Da.

  “How’s Uncle Fierre?” Taemon asked.

  “He’s in rough shape, but I think our healers can fix the worst of it. It may be a few days before he’s back on his feet, though. He’s resting now. I can take you to see him later.”

  They wandered over toward the outskirts of the clearing, where they found Gevri crouched over one of his kite’s wings, inspecting the joint.

  “What are you doing?” Taemon said.

  Gevri turned to Taemon with a fiery look in his eye. “What does it look like? As soon as I repair this kite, I’m leaving.”

  “What?” Taemon said. “You’re the one who wanted to get to Deliverance so badly.”

  Gevri rose and stepped up to Taemon until he was only an inch from his face. “I wanted to get to the place where archons live together in peace. A community of equals where everyone has dominion — or psi.” Gevri spat the word out as if it were a bug that had crawled into his mouth. “I finally get here, and I find out that no one, with one notable exception, has any power at all.” Gevri was shouting now. Curious onlookers began gathering around.

  “I spent my whole life hearing about Nathan and his people. How they lied. How they pretended to be allies, then turned on the Republik. How the people in Nathan’s City are the same way. Liars. Selfish. Proud. But I never believed it. Nathan must have had his reasons, I figured. There are two sides to every story. And even if Nathan himself had done terrible things, surely his descendants were different. After all, hundreds of years had passed, and dominion would have become a way of life. Surely the people would be happy and free.”

  “Gevri,” Taemon began, “I’m sorry I withheld information from you. I didn’t know if I could trust you —”

  “Trust me?” Gevri yelled. “I did everything you asked! I led you back to the outpost even though I was risking my life by doing so. I waited around and came to rescue you when you got in over your head. And I let Jix —” Gevri’s voice broke, and his eyes filled with tears.

  “Gevri,” Amma said gently, “I understand why you feel betrayed. But let’s go somewhere and talk. Let us explain.”

  “How can I trust anything you say? Everything you’ve told me from the moment I met you has been a lie!” Anger contorted Gevri’s features. “There is no more psi in Deliverance. You weren’t sneaking into the Republik to rescue your father; your father is the leader of a band of outlaws! And you’re the mythical True Son that I read about in my father’s books.” Gevri shook his head, and suddenly his expression shifted from anger to sadness. “But you never said a word. It’s just as bad as lying outright.”

  He took a shuddering breath, then pointed an accusing finger at Taemon. “Only this True Son is not noble and good, like the books said. He is a liar, just like Nathan! My father was right. I can see that now. And when he hears what I have to tell him, this land will be wiped clean of Nathan’s cursed people once and for all!”

  Gevri spat on the ground by Taemon’s feet.

  “Gevri, please,” Taemon began. He took a step forward, but Gevri quickly held up a hand. Taemon stumbled back. Gevri had pushed him away with psi.

  Before anyone could react, Gevri turned back to the kite and lifted it with psi. In seconds, he had strapped himself in with the ropes.

  From the corner of his eye, Taemon saw that a few of Da’s archers had nocked arrows in their bows. He didn’t need telepathy to know that they would kill Gevri before they let him return to the Republik with everything he knew.

  “No!”

  Acting almost without thinking, Taemon used his psi to disarm the archers. His left leg gave out from under him, but he managed to stay upright.

  Gevri spun at the sound of Taemon’s voice. The look on Gevri’s face, as he realized what had nearly happened, was one of pure vengeance. He squared his shoulders, then nodded at the archers, who were reaching for more arrows. Instantly, the three men dropped to the ground.

  The crowd was stunned into silence.

  Taemon stared at the felled archers. He hasn’t killed them, he thought. Gevri doesn’t k
ill people. He takes pride in that.

  Taemon looked up in time to see Gevri begin running toward the edge of the clearing. No one made a move to stop him. Quickly, he became airborne. Above their heads, he banked the kite in a wide curve toward the mountain, his long hair rippling in the wind.

  At first, it looked like Gevri’s hair was getting longer, but then Taemon realized that it was separating from his head, leaving a trail behind him that looked like smoke.

  It lasted for a few seconds, and the last sight Taemon had of Gevri was his shorn head. Pointed in front and pointed in back.

  Gevri — peace-loving, honest Gevri — had made his first three kills.

  Long ago, many years in his past, Taemon had learned not to cry. He had Yens to thank for that. If Yens ever saw him cry, whatever Yens was doing to cause the tears would worsen times ten. No matter how much it hurt or stung, Taemon had learned how to push the pain down where tears couldn’t reach. Right now, he had to push deep, this pain joining the one from when Moke had died.

  He heard Amma’s quiet sobs and envied her. He wanted to console her, but what could he possibly say? Nothing could undo what had just happened.

  He felt Da’s hand on his good shoulder. “War is coming, son. We’d best prepare.”

  Da’s idea of preparing for war amounted to something like a town meeting. Everyone assembled on a hillside that had a rough-hewn table at the base of it. Da sat at the table along with Taemon, Amma, and the lead archer, Lervie. Everyone else sat on the hillside, looking down at the table. It reminded Taemon of the amphitheater his family used to go to in Deliverance.

  Da called the meeting to order and began by repeating what Taemon had told him about his trip to the Republik.

  As Taemon listened, he saw Da in a new light. It was strange, how Da was so different, and yet he seemed more himself than ever. The way he was handling this meeting, out in the open with everyone involved, every opinion considered — that was just like Da. Even the outdoor setting seemed to suit him.

  “Taemon, do you have anything to add?” Da asked.

  Taemon shifted in his seat. The last thing he wanted was to get up and make a big speech. The True Son was meant to usher in a new era of peace and prosperity. But so far all he’d managed to usher in was pain and chaos and, soon, war.

  But Taemon was done pretending to be someone other than who he was. He wasn’t his brother, Yens. And he wasn’t some random Nathanite come to rescue his da. All that True Son business aside, these people were his responsibility, and he could not let them down.

  He pushed himself up with his good arm. “It seems to me,” he began, “that we have three groups of people in Deliverance right now. There are people in the city who want their psi back. There are people in the colony who want to get on with life without psi. And then there is a third group, made up of people like you, who wish only to follow the Heart of the Earth.”

  The crowd murmured its assent.

  Taemon nodded. “Somehow these three groups have to come together and find common ground. It’s the only way we’ll have any chance of standing up to this archon army that the Republik will be sending our way.”

  “Speaking for myself,” Lervie said, “I have no bone to pick with the colony. I’ve been there a couple times on scouting missions, and they seem like decent folk.”

  Others in the crowd agreed.

  “It’s the city people we can’t abide,” said someone from the hillside.

  “They locked us away!”

  “Treated us like dirt and swept us under the rug.”

  “Are you asking us to fight beside them? To lay down our lives for theirs?”

  “The boy’s right,” Da said. “Unity is strength. We’ve got no hope if we don’t fight together.”

  “And what will the city dwellers think of such unity?” someone asked. “Does anyone here truly believe that they’ll fight beside the likes of us?”

  The man’s words were met with cries of agreement.

  Da cut through all the restless muttering with his booming voice. “We follow the Heart of the Earth! And this boy — my son,” Da said, looking at Taemon, “this boy has heard the voice of the Heart of the Earth. She has spoken to him. If you truly follow the Heart of the Earth, then you will follow this boy.”

  Wild shouts and cheers greeted Da’s rousing speech, and even Taemon found himself filled with a new confidence, a renewed sense of purpose.

  As the crowd gradually fell silent, Da looked to Taemon. “Tell us what to do, son.”

  Taemon looked out upon a sea of trusting, hopeful faces. Once again he felt the weight of his destiny heavy upon his shoulders.

  “If we are to have any hope of defeating the archon army,” he said, his voice booming through the clearing as his da’s had just done — no amplification needed —“then we must unite with our brethren in the colony and in the city. For we are all children of the Heart of the Earth, rebels, colonists, and city dwellers alike.”

  Men and women nodded in acceptance. Taemon knew that many details would need to be worked out later, and many struggles were on the horizon, but for now, the group seemed willing to extend the hand of brotherhood, which was as much as anyone could ask.

  “To begin, we must send one delegation to the city and one to the colony,” Taemon said. “Amma, would you be willing to lead the group that goes to the colony?”

  Amma nodded. She was the logical choice and a natural-born ambassador. She was perfect for the job.

  “As for the city . . .” Taemon took a deep breath. “I’ll lead that delegation. I’ll talk to my brother, Yens, and get him on our side.”

  “Taemon, no!” Amma cried.

  Da frowned. “Are you sure that’s wise? Yens is not the boy we once knew. His time with Naseph has changed him,” he admitted sadly.

  If Da only knew! “I’m the one who broke things with Yens, and I’m the one who should try to repair them. There’s no one else, Da,” he continued when Da started to interrupt. “You can’t risk getting caught by Naseph’s men and locked away again. These people need you. And Yens won’t be able to resist speaking with me face to face. He won’t kill me.” At least not right away, Taemon thought but didn’t add.

  Da held Taemon’s gaze for a long while, searching for something. At last, he seemed to have found it.

  “Go with peace, my son. And may the Heart of the Earth protect you.”

  Taemon was outfitted with a sturdy pair of crutches for the trip. The healer who’d made them had added extra padding where the crutches rested under his arms.

  “Even that will start to chafe a few days in,” she warned him. “It’s the best I can do for now, I’m afraid.”

  Taemon tested them out, striding from one end of the clearing to the other. “They’re terrific!” he said genuinely. For the first time in weeks, he was able to move with only minor discomfort. The return trip to Deliverance wouldn’t be easy by any means, but at least it would be much less painful and grueling than the trip up the mountain had been.

  The two delegations traveled together at first, and at night around the campfire Amma and Taemon regaled the rebels with their tales of the Republik.

  All too soon, though, their shared journey was near its end. Amma and her group of rebels would go one way, toward the colony, and Taemon and his group of rebels, led by Lervie, would go the other, toward the city.

  “I’ll see you soon,” Amma said, holding his gaze.

  “Soon,” Taemon agreed, and hoped he was right.

  He watched Amma and her delegation go till they disappeared around a bend. Then, with a heavy sigh, he adjusted his crutches and set out toward the city, following Lervie.

  He couldn’t help but compare this trip to the last time he had gone to the city to confront Yens. So much had changed since then. Some things, however, were the same. Once again he had no idea how he would accomplish such an impossible task.

  Taemon tugged at the scarf around his neck and tucked one of the loose end
s into his jacket. It was silly, he knew, but wearing the scarf made him feel better. It had gotten him over the mountain; it had helped him understand his young archon friends. Maybe it would help this time, too.

  An old saying came to his mind: Just because you smell better than a skunk doesn’t mean you smell good. The scarf took away a little of his fear, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid. He was terrified.

  If the people in the city found out that he had psi, and if they knew that he was the one who’d taken it away from everyone else, he’d have little chance of seeing another sunrise, much less persuading Yens and the other city dwellers to unite with the colonists and the rebels in a war against an army of archons.

  There’s no way I can do this on my own, Taemon said to the Heart of the Earth. You’re going to have to help.

  There was no answer.

  True to their word, Lervie and his men got Taemon through the city gate with little trouble. Lervie pressed a small package into the guard’s hands, and they were ushered through without any questions.

  Taemon glanced back and caught the guard stuffing the contents of the package into his mouth.

  “Honeycomb,” Lervie said with a grin. “A sweet tooth is a powerful thing. I could probably tell you the particular vice of each and every guard in this city.” He patted his thick coat. “Always good to be prepared.”

  Taemon shook his head in wonder. “Once we get to the marketplace, our goal is to mingle with people on the streets,” he said, “to see if we can pick up any clues about where Yens might be. No arrows.”

  Lervie nodded.

  Taemon, Lervie, and the four other archers melted into the crowd. They looked at the tables of wares spread out for sale and tried to listen in on snatches of conversations. Most people were talking about providing for their families — finding enough food and staying warm over the winter.

  Taemon picked up a cloak pieced together from old blankets. The stitches were rough and the patterns mismatched, but it was a sign that people were constructing things by hand, that they were adapting.