Bisecter

by Stephanie Fazio

  “That’s not enough.” My words come out strong, almost fierce.

  “I can’t lose you now that I’ve found you,” my aunt pleads.

  “I didn’t even know you existed! You abandoned us, and now my mother is dead. I don’t owe you anything!”

  I know my words are unfair, but right now, I don’t care.

  “Mer,” Jadem’s voice cracks. “Please.”

  I don’t look at my aunt’s face as I turn back toward the tunnel. Jadem calls after me but doesn’t follow.

  The heat of my anger pulses through me as I step out into the sea of soldiers. The air hums with shouting voices. The entrance to the fortress is ringed with archers. Ry, a bow in her hand, is barking out orders.

  I step between two men I’ve never seen before, both of whom grip a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. When I stoop to pick up a stone for my sling, a movement in the trees to the west catches my eye.

  “Halves, in the trees!”

  It takes the others milliseconds to notice what I’ve seen. There’s a roar of voices as others rush to meet the enemy. I wind my sling as I run. A hideous cry erupts from the Halve as my stone lands its mark. I take down three more with my sling before they’re upon me.

  I duck out of the way moments before a club smashes into the ground beside me.

  Too close, Hemera.

  Someone jumps in front of me. With a single, clean stroke, the Halve’s head separates from its body. I only have a moment to see it’s my aunt before she’s already moving on to cleave another Halve.

  There are dozens of them. The Halves dwarf even the largest Solguards among us. As their beady, black eyes come into focus, I forget the complicated footwork Wade taught me and hack at everything in my path.

  I tug my sword from a Halve’s tough hide and stand mesmerized as the thick, brown blood drains from its body. A familiar voice cries out, snapping me back into focus.

  I spin around at the sound of Wade’s voice. He’s trying to pull his sword from a dead Halve with one hand while using his other to keep the corpse from crushing him. Another Halve is running toward Wade with a club in one hand and a sharpened tree trunk in the other.

  I jump over sprawled bodies and duck underneath clubs that smash into the ground behind me. Kicking and punching, I fight my way toward Wade, who is still wrestling with the corpse as its dead weight presses against him. The other Halve is upon him.

  The Halve throws its wooden spear.

  “No!”

  I dive toward them, catching the spear in my shoulder just before it pierces Wade’s neck. Pain rips through me.

  Dark spots blink at the corner of my vision. A club comes swinging at my face. Letting out a wild cry, I lift my sword and drive it into the belly of the Halve.

  Thick blood spurts around the hilt of my sword.

  Someone is screaming my name. There’s another flash of pain through my shoulder, and then darkness.

  CHAPTER 25

  Make way! She’s injured!”

  Voices surround me, but I can’t see anyone. It’s dark in here. Too dark. The air smells like blood.

  “Tie her down. She’s lost too much blood.”

  Where am I?

  “It needs to come out. Hold her down.”

  “She won’t survive—”

  Bright, white light.

  Something is crushing me. I can’t breathe. And then, mercifully, darkness.

  ✽✽✽

  The low murmurs are the first sign I’m still alive. I know these voices. My shoulder feels like it will split apart from the rest of my body.

  I open my eyes against candlelight that makes my head throb.

  “Have I lost my arm?”

  “You still have both your arms. Lie still, my dear niece.”

  “Jadem?”

  I try to sit up, but daggers of pain shoot through my arm.

  The memory of the battle comes into focus. “Wade, where’s Wade?”

  “I’m here. You saved my life, Hemera.” Wade sounds far away. “Dayne is here too; we’re all here.”

  Nausea surges into my throat when I try to move my arm. I blink against the soft light that makes my head feel like it will split open.

  I’m lying on a bed covered in clean linens. Dried herbs and medicine bottles line the stone shelves built into the wall. Jadem, Dayne, and Wade hover at my bedside.

  Something seems out of place. Ignoring the shooting pains and the pleas to lie still, I raise my head.

  “Where are the healers? Where are the others who were injured?”

  Jadem and Dayne exchange a look.

  “What? What aren’t you telling me?”

  But one look at my aunt’s face, and I already know. Panic churns with the nausea in my stomach. I swallow the bile that gathers in the back of my throat.

  Finally, Jadem speaks. “When you were first brought here, my healer thought you were not going to….” her voice cracks.

  “She tried to bandage you.” Dayne picks up the story in his steady voice. “But your blood touched her skin.”

  My heart is in my throat. I know what he’s going to say before the words are spoken.

  “She’s dead, Hemera. When your blood touched her skin, it was the same as if she had been poisoned by Halve blood.”

  A healer is dead because of me.

  I feel tears gathering in my eyes. Destinel was training to be a healer. If Destinel wasn’t already dead, cut down by Halves, she could have been the one I killed.

  My face is burning up. And then I’m surrounded by a sinking cold. I begin to shake.

  The Dwellers were right all along. I am one of them.

  “It’s not your fault.” Dayne’s voice is stern as he reads my thoughts.

  “I need to leave. Now, before anyone else gets hurt.” I sit up, sucking in my breath against the pain.

  “No one need fear you so long as they don’t touch your blood,” Jadem says as she presses me back down onto the bed.

  “If I had told people, your healer would still be alive,” I say.

  “You didn’t want to be treated like an enemy.” Jadem shakes her head. “No one can blame you for that.”

  But it’s my fault.

  “There’s something else you should know.” Jadem and Dayne exchange a look. “You would have bled to death, but the wound closed itself almost as soon as the spear was pulled from it. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

  Just like after my lashing in the Subterrane, when the cuts on my back disappeared before the end of the high day….

  It’s that part of me—that non-human part—that is the reason for my healing.

  “I’m a freak.”

  I give in to the pain in my shoulder and sink back onto the pillow.

  “You’re not a freak, Mer. You’re a gift,” Jadem bends over me.

  I swallow. “I’m not human or Halve. I don’t belong anywhere.”

  “If you were wholly either, you would be dead,” Jadem says. “You are more than the sum of your parts.”

  I look at Dayne and Wade, who are both nodding in agreement.

  “I’d guess that if you are protected from the poison of the Halves’ blood, then you might also be immune to the sun’s rays.” Jadem searches my face. “Am I right?”

  I glance at Dayne, but there is no hint of surprise on his face. He must have guessed as much already.

  “This is unbelievable,” Wade says, no longer able to stay quiet. “Think of what an advantage that could be—” He falls silent again at a look from Jadem.

  My aunt turns back to me. “You have taken the best from both Halves and humans, making you better than either could ever be. You are indeed more than the sum of your parts.”

  Dayne pulls the blanket up around me and then steps back. “Sleep now, Hemera.”

  ✽✽✽

  I cradle my arm as I position myself at the top of the glide. It’s been one day since the battle, but my shoulder is almost healed.
Jadem’s words still echo in my ears as I pull the lever and push off.

  You are more than the sum of your parts.

  The air whistles in my ear as I fly down the glide. The hood of my cloak whips back as my hair fans out behind me. I fall faster and faster.

  When I soar out the bottom, I land without stumbling for the first time. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips.

  As I near the dining cave, the lightness I felt from the glide is replaced by a crushing weight. No matter what Dayne and Jadem say, it’s my fault the healer is dead.

  The gentle notes of two voices singing in harmony reach around the corner of the tunnel and keep me from turning back toward the stairs. The song is mournful and makes my heart ache. I stand transfixed until the song’s ending is met with subdued applause.

  I duck around the waterfall and step into the dining cave. The air is warm and smells like food and flowers. I take a step toward my usual table, and then stop.

  The hall has gone silent. A few people nudge each other and point at me. Everyone is staring through eyes filled with fear and hatred and distrust.

  Gorgoran, leaning against the wall with arms folded across his chest, chuckles. “Little monster girl.”

  My cheeks are on fire. I lower my black eyes to the ground, tugging my hood up, willing myself to disappear into the depths of my cloak. A longing for Brice, so intense it steals my breath away, crushes me under its weight.

  I turn to flee, but as I should have expected, my own body betrays me. I trip over my own miserable boot laces.

  Some part of me registers the humiliating squeal of my body sliding across the stone floor before it comes to rest. I don’t even feel any pain, even though my bare elbows hit the ground first.

  I can’t move. I beg the ground to swallow me up.

  “Hemera, there you are!”

  Wokee is running toward me, heedless of the dark stares that follow him. A flutter of black feathers extends beside him as Vlaz trots in his wake.

  The sight of them is enough to make my eyes fill with tears.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you,” Wokee announces when he gets to my side. His voice is too loud in the silent hall.

  He hauls me to my feet.

  “Dayne said we could have dinner in our sleeping cave. It’s meat stew tonight.” Wokee links his arm through mine and steers me away from the glares pressing into our backs.

  CHAPTER 26

  Dayne is waiting for us in our sleeping cave. He gives me a sympathetic look as we come through the narrow opening. The room is lit with soft candlelight. There is a wooden table set in the middle of the room laden with bread, fruit, and a tureen of stew.

  “You okay?” Dayne asks as we settle ourselves around the table.

  I nod, swelling with emotion.

  “It’s not your fault,” he says, putting a hand on my shoulder.

  I don’t trust my voice enough to reply.

  “Jadem gave me a tour of her orchards,” Wokee announces, oblivious to the somber mood. “Did you know she figured out how to grow plants underground, in the caves?”

  When neither Dayne nor I say anything, Wokee keeps talking. “Not just any plants either, but trees.” He pauses long enough to splash stew into his bowl. “I didn’t even know that was possible, but she told me all about how she does it.” Pride is written all over his face. “She said I have a quick mind.”

  “That so,” Dayne says without much enthusiasm.

  I watch Wokee as he wipes a puddle of broth from the table with his shirt sleeve. In the last several days, his bony shoulders and knobby knees have filled out. His hair, no less unruly than when we first found him, has taken on a golden shine. His cheeks glow with energy.

  Vlaz splits his time between rubbing his soft wings against my hand and waiting beside Wokee for crumbs to fall his way.

  As soon as Wokee pauses in his explanation of Jadem’s orchards, Dayne gives me a nod. I clear my throat.

  “Wokee, I’m leaving for Tanguro with Wade and some of the others. It’s a secret, so Jadem can’t find out.”

  Guilt tightens my stomach. I hadn’t thought about how going on this mission would mean betraying my aunt. I look down into my still-full bowl of stew, no longer hungry.

  “I know,” Wokee says. “I knew something was happening when you kept going out to train with Wade. Dayne said you were in love and had to go rescue someone.”

  He wrinkles his nose at the mention of love. Dayne’s lips quirk into a smile.

  “I could come, you know,” Wokee looks at me.

  “No!” Dayne and I both answer at the same time.

  Wokee’s face falls, so I add, “I thought Jadem was going to teach you all about tending the orchards.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Growing the fruit is the most important job in the fortress,” Dayne says.

  “Really?” Wokee’s eyes widen.

  Dayne shrugs. “I wouldn’t want to see a hungry Solguard.” He gives Wokee a meaningful stare. “Would you?”

  Wokee thinks about it. “No, I definitely wouldn’t. That’d be really scary.”

  I duck my head to hide a smile.

  “You’ll come back?” Wokee’s eyes are big and pleading.

  “I will,” I tell him.

  Wokee sniffs. “Promise?”

  “Promise.” As soon as I’ve rescued Brice and killed those murdering, monstrous—

  “Oh! I almost forgot.” Wokee jumps up from his chair, sending a glob of stew flying out of his bowl. Vlaz is ready and catches it in mid-air.

  Wokee rummages underneath his bed and pulls out a wrapped brown parcel.

  “For you,” he gives the package to me.

  Wokee watches as I untie the coarse brown strings. When I pull away the wrapping, blue silk spills out like water. I run my hand over the material. It is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, smoother than the petals on Jadem’s white flowers and softer than the hunters’ most prized furs.

  “It’s a new cloak for you,” Wokee says. “You know, since you don’t need to wear your heavy one anymore. I can’t believe you really can’t get the Burn.”

  I stare at Wokee, unable to speak.

  “I found the berries that make the color,” Wokee points to the silk. “Mama taught me to boil them down into dye.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I breathe.

  Wokee’s smile stretches across his entire face. “The silk is lighter and will keep you cool. And the threads are covered in a paste Jadem makes that will keep the whole thing from frying in the sun.”

  I let my fingers run over the silk. It’s soft and light and unlike any clothes I’ve ever worn.

  “Blue was Wodell’s favorite color,” Wokee says. “He always said if freedom had a color, it would be blue. I told Jadem we should dye everyone’s cloaks this color.”

  I can’t take my eyes off the cloak.

  “Well go on,” Dayne says. “The Solguards know what you are now, so there’s no point in wearing a heavy cloak you don’t need.”

  “Jadem helped me make it, but I did the most important parts,” Wokee announces as I put on the delicate garment.

  Unlike my other cloak, which hangs on each side of me like a tent, this one clings to the curves of my body. When I walk, the material flows in elegant ripples.

  “You look good in blue,” Wokee says.

  I hug Wokee for a long time, fighting down the lump in my throat.

  “Okay, okay, you’re squeezing me too tight!” Wokee slides out from my grasp, which turns my sniffle into a laugh.

  “Good boy,” Dayne nods at Wokee. He honks his nose into a handkerchief.

  “You’ll need to take Vlaz with you.” Wokee looks at the cub, who is fluttering his wings in an effort to reach a piece of meat dangling from the edge of Wokee’s bowl.

  Vlaz, too, has changed. He’s at least twice as big as he was when we first found him. His wings are sprouting new feathers, and there is the outline of muscles around his neck and should
ers. Still, he’s too small to be of any use to the company of Solguards. He’ll only get hurt or worse.

  I turn back to Wokee. “I need you to keep him safe with you here. Can you do that for me?”

  “I will, I promise!” Wokee wraps his arms around my waist.

  Dayne stands up to blow out the candles. “Alright you two, it’s off to bed.”

  ✽✽✽

  “Hemera,” a voice hisses. I open one eye. Wade is kneeling at the side of my bed.

  “What’s....”

  “Plan’s changed,” he whispers.

  “What happened?” I’m already out of bed and pulling clothes over my sleeping gown.

  “Jadem knows. Someone must have talked, or she overheard something. We leave at the beginning of low day.”

  “This low day?!”

  “Shh! Get your things. I have weapons and supplies already packed for you.”

  “But everyone knows I’m—” I swallow, unable to finish.

  Unnatural. Not like them. A Bisecter.

  “After what you did for me, Sal insisted you come. I gave him your map, too, so no one else will make any trouble. Even without Dayne, we need you.”

  I don’t argue. My mind buzzes with anticipation. We’re going to Tanguro.

  I pull the sky-blue silk cloak over my head. It is weightless compared to the cloak I’m so used to wearing.

  Wade tries to help me pull my injured arm through the sleeve, but I wave him away. The wound that should have killed me is now little more than a scratch.

  “We meet at the old well an hour after low day begins. Do you remember how to get there?”

  I nod.