Phoenix Overture

by Jodi Meadows

Page 11

  Author: Jodi Meadows

  “It must be enormous,” said Fayden. “To be visible from this distance. ”

  Before and behind us, wagons rolled to a stop as everyone climbed onto the roofs to stare.

  A white wall ran around the soaring tower, surrounded by a thick forest, all vibrant with coming winter. I’d never seen such an array of autumn shades by the old city, but here the trees shone copper in the sunlight. Everything down there looked so perfect and still, like a painting.

  Mist or steam floated near the wall, a ghostly sight that made me shiver. Just as I was about to ask where the vapor came from, water shot into the sky, shattering the stillness. I imagined the eruption of water was loud, but from this distance, it was all silent.

  “What is this place?” Fayden whispered.

  “This is it,” came the voices from ahead. “This is where Janan is being held. ”

  I stared at the white tower, struggling against the tide of awe that washed through me. What had captured Janan? What had imprisoned him in that? Janan must have done something truly terrible to earn this fate.

  Slowly, the wagons wound down the old road. Mountains rose like jagged teeth around us.

  From this high point of the road, I could see the first wagons reaching a forested plateau. They headed toward the white wall, which looked immense even from so far away. The wagons looked so tiny underneath its shadow.

  “I can’t believe we’re finally here,” said Fayden. “What do you think will happen?”

  What made him think I had any idea? But I just shook my head and called Stef up to look, and the three of us stood atop the wagon together, watching our future grow ever nearer as we descended the mountain.

  It took all day for the last of the wagons to reach the plateau, and purple dusk crept over the sky as the sun vanished beneath the high mountain peaks. The roads here had been worn away long ago—if there ever had been roads here—and the forest made navigating in the wagons difficult.

  Wolves howled in the distance, and birds squawked at our passage. Though it was cold and everyone was exhausted, we pushed through the woods, trampling undergrowth. Everything was flattened by the time my wagon reached it.

  Only a full, heavy moon illuminated the landscape; it was too closed in for torches. Scouts and guards vanished in and out of the woods, calling instructions and locations. In spite of the unfamiliar surroundings, everyone seemed in good cheer. We’d arrived.

  And above everything, the white tower rose, a pale shadow on the sky, visible only because of the moonlight.

  “Everyone thinks that’s where he’s being kept,” said Fayden.

  “Everyone?” I rolled my eyes. As if he’d had a chance to poll the entire Community and ask what they thought about the tower. But it seemed likely; it was the only structure here. It didn’t appear old enough to be pre-Cataclysm, and if the enemy Meuric kept talking about was as powerful as he’d said, no doubt they could have constructed this tower . . . this prison.

  The wagons ahead of us began to slow as the Council’s warriors waved them into spaces. “Here! Put your wagon here!”

  In a wide field near the shining lake I’d seen from the mountains, the warriors organized everyone into ranks. Everyone had a tiny amount of land to spread out for the night, to put out their tents or sleeping pallets.

  Stef climbed off the wagon and vanished inside to help his aunts. “Want to see if we can find someone who knows what’s going on?” I asked, stripping off the cloth covering half my face. “It’ll be a little while before supper is ready. ”

  “Sure. ” Fayden poked his head into the wagon to let Stef and his aunts know where we were going, and then we headed deeper into the camp.

  Everywhere people bustled back and forth, gossiping and pointing at the tower rising in the distance.

  “What do you think is in there?” a man asked.

  “What built it is a better question. ” His wife stared upward, mouth dropped open. “Was it already here when they trapped Janan inside of it? Or did they build it specifically for him?” She shook her head. “It’s incredible. ”

  They were good questions—and I couldn’t even guess the answers.

  “There are holes that shoot water out of them,” said another person as we passed.

  “The ground is really thin in some places. I could feel the hollowness when I stepped. We should make sure no one puts their wagons there. ”

  Lively talk filled the camp like music. Fayden, who seemed to know everyone, waved and grinned at people, promising we’d join them for a meal soon. “This is my brother, Dossam,” he said a few times. “You probably heard his music on the way here. ”

  “That was you?” replied one woman as she pressed her palm to her chest. “The best parts of my day were when you played. ”

  A few others hugged me in response to Fayden’s introduction, and I felt it, the thing I had wanted all along: for a few people, my music had become real and valuable and important. To these people, my music had been useful—and might always have been, if I hadn’t hidden it out of fear that someone might take it away.

  In spite of the cool wind whipping around wagons and trees, the air grew warmer as people built fires and pulled out pots to cook in. Others worked by the lake, catching fish and hauling water to trade.

  The music of voices and life flowed about the camp, tempting me into a smile. I hadn’t wanted to come on this quest to find a leader I didn’t care about, but for the first time, I was glad I was here—and not just because I was relieved not to have been killed back at the old Community.

  The mountains all around were strong and sheltering, casting the sensation of safety over the plateau. The woods, while cold and unfamiliar, seemed peaceful enough, and they were beautiful.

  This was an area I could learn to love, even with the strange wall and tower rising just to the north.

  Besides, I had my brother and best friend with me. As long as I had them, I had everything I needed.

  At last, a voice filled with authority sounded, and I dragged Fayden to where Meuric stood atop his wagon—a much grander affair than ours.

  “The scouts have informed me of archways in the white wall. In the morning, we will enter the structure and set Janan free!”

  People cheered.

  “He’s not wasting any time,” I muttered to Fayden.

  He chuckled. “Would you, if your favorite person were in there, perhaps unjustly?”

  If it were Fayden or Stef? “No. I’d do anything to save them. ”

  We lingered for a little while before turning toward to the outskirts of camp. We made it only a few paces.

  That was when we heard the noise.

  Though the sky was clear, with the moon shining brightly and the stars scattered like sparks across the blackness, thunder cracked the night.

  11

  “WHAT IS THAT?” I searched the sky, but there was nothing. Just moonlight and stars, faintly obscured by cook fires and smoke, as a moment before. “It sounded like thunder. ”

  My brother was pale, wide-eyed. “I don’t know. ” We were still in the thick of the camp, where Meuric had been speaking minutes ago, but now everyone had returned to their duties and the Councilor was nowhere in sight.

  As the strange thunder came again, a hush fell over the entire camp. The crackle of fires and susurrus of wind became the only sounds as everyone looked to the sky.

  Movement caught my eye, near the immense tower that pierced the heavens. Something long and sinuous twisted through the air, and as thunder clapped again, a long stretch of darkness blacked out the stars.

  Others followed my gaze, some pointing, some rooted to their places, as though fear had rendered them immobile.

  If fear were sound, it’d be a low humming and the quick tempo of an accelerating heartbeat, punctuated by gasps. It’d be ringing. Deafening. Paralyzing.

  M
ore snakelike shapes slithered across the sky, wide wings making the sky black. A dozen of the flying creatures followed that first one, all of them in formation, like birds or . . . or an army.

  The winged beasts dipped and adjusted their path through the air, flying straight toward our camp. Panic surged, contagious and violent as the plague: screams and shouts and trampling to reach the perceived safety of the wagons.

  But as the beasts drew back their wings and dove, even I knew the wagons wouldn’t provide any safe form of shelter. The wagons would become tombs.

  “Warriors! Protect the perimeter!” Meuric called, though the din of screams and feet pounding the ground swallowed the sound of his voice. No one paid him any heed. Many fled toward the forest.

  While I had no doubts those enormous creatures could snatch people out of the woods, the trees would provide some coverage.

  “Come on!” I grabbed the collar of Fayden’s jacket. “We have to make sure Stef and his aunts get to the forest, too. ”

  We ran, cutting between wagons and people, trying not to shove them aside, even as people jostled us to get wherever they were going.

  At the edge of camp, horses stomped and whinnied, while cattle and other livestock scattered as the beasts dove.

  I dodged and ducked as a sharp and horrible scent filled the air. As I glanced up, a dragon spat something brilliant green onto a wagon. People fled the structure, screaming as the wood began to dissolve from top to bottom. The odor of burning filled my nose as Fayden yanked my wrist and pulled me onward.

  “What was that?” I shouted. But Fayden didn’t hear me, or couldn’t answer. In the wan light, his face was pale and etched with terror.

  Ahead of us, the ground shuddered as one of the beasts dropped to four legs.

  It was huge—the biggest creature I’d ever seen. Its fangs were as long as my forearm. The serpentine body stretched into the trees, and wings held just aloft were big enough to throw a shadow over the entire camp. A thick talon gouged a trench in the earth.

  I scrambled to a stop, and stared. Giant eyes met mine, and there was a moment when it seemed to look through me. My heart beat double-time as I urged my legs to move, but my whole body felt heavier. I couldn’t do anything.

  The beast’s head pulled back, and a faint, glowing green came from within its mouth. Its jaws opened wider, and that sharp, burning scent filled the space between us.

  “Dossam, come on!” Fayden snatched my hair and dragged me away from the beast, just as the green stuff spilled across the earth, shining with an unearthly glow.

  I staggered after my brother, head jerked at an awkward angle until he released my hair; bits still clung to his sweat-dampened fingers, and then floated toward the green stuff.

  The strands sizzled and burned up.

  It was acid.

  The beasts spat acid.

  Quickly, I was off and running behind Fayden, ducking and dodging as other people flailed.

  Fayden was just ahead of me, his tall form rising above many of the others. Every so often, he glanced back to make sure I was following. I pushed myself faster to keep up as he raced toward the wagon we shared with Stef and his aunts.

  Nothing looked familiar, though. We’d been here for only an hour before everything fell apart, and with the beasts, the panic, and the uncertain light, nothing looked remotely like it had earlier.

  Immense wings blocked moonlight, but the world suddenly flickered bright. A fire bloomed toward the center of camp, and the screams crescendoed.

  “Fayden! Sam!” Orrin waved to us from beside our wagon, which had fallen in and glowed eerie green on one corner. Bit by bit, the wood crumbled. The horses were gone. “Whit and Stef are trapped inside. ”

  I glanced at Fayden for orders.

  “Check on them,” he said. “I’ll find help. ”

  Relieved to be told what to do, I surged forward, and with Orrin’s help, began lifting away pieces of wood.

  “Careful of the green stuff,” I shouted over the crackle of flame and chaos.

  She glanced up at the wagon being eaten away, and nodded.