Bisecter

by Stephanie Fazio

  In front of me is the first white building. The other is farther inside the stone wall and is blocked from view by the first.

  An orchard with some kind of spiked, blue fruit stands between me and the building. The ground between the trees is dotted with vines, flowers, and other unfamiliar plants. Remembering Dayne’s warnings and those bloodthirsty flowers, I take care not to touch anything.

  Halves are everywhere. Luckily, they’re too preoccupied to notice me. They’re carrying pieces of stone to fortify the wall that is already taller than the height of several men combined. The Halves are turning this place into a fortress above ground.

  The rumors of a Dusker here must be true.

  The Halves could never figure out how to create all of this on their own. The Dusker in charge must have found some way to control them. But for what purpose? And what use could he have for human prisoners?

  A commotion draws my attention back to the gates. The Halves are panicking. A plume of dust rises as they shove each other. A black shadow passing between them is the source of their terror.

  There’s no mistaking the ruffled black fur, fluttering wings, and one flopped ear. Flying through the air on small, unsteady wings is Vlaz. His teeth flash in the sunlight as he snaps at the Halves that scatter out of his path. A strangled laugh escapes my lips even as the Halves gallop toward me.

  How did Vlaz get here? Is Wokee here, too?

  The thought of Wokee amid all these monsters makes my insides clench. I search for my friend, but the courtyard is too crowded with people and Halves for me to recognize anyone. Prisoners abandoned by their captors run in every direction.

  Vlaz launches himself in the air. Claws extended, he fastens onto the back of a Halve. The Halve shrieks and twists its body.

  “Vlaz!”

  It seems impossible Vlaz could pick out the sound of my voice above the pandemonium in the courtyard, but the cub veers away from the Halves and flies straight to me. I catch him as he bathes my face with his wet tongue. He’s grown so much he barely fits in my arms. I bury my face in his fur.

  It doesn’t take long for the Halves to regroup. Some stay behind to corral the prisoners. The rest race toward us, brandishing their stone clubs. Vlaz lets out a low growl and flies out of my arms to meet them.

  For a brief moment, all the Halves’ attention is on Vlaz. His snarling and snapping fangs are holding them off for the moment. If I’m going to escape, I need to go now. I throw a last look at Vlaz, who seems unconcerned with taking on enemies many times his size, and run.

  I race through the orchard, dodging away from plants that stretch out their leaves to wrap around my legs, to the first white building. It's farther away than it looks. I pass through three orchards of yellow and pink fruit before the building looms before me. When I turn back, the Halves are just a mass of pale, moving specs in the distance. Vlaz is nowhere in sight.

  If they hurt him….

  And what will Dayne do when he realizes I’m gone? Will he think I was captured and try to find me? Wade and Ry will be worried, too.

  I file away my guilt for later. Right now, I need to focus.

  I crane my neck up at the building before me. I need to figure out where the prisoners are being held. Freeing them is the only way we’ll have a chance against the Halves and the Dusker controlling them.

  I touch the white siding of the building, and then draw my hand back in surprise. It’s not burning up, or even hot. In fact, the material is cool.

  The siding looked smooth from far away, but it’s actually covered with large pieces of material sewn together. I look from the building to the rows of white trees. Every part of the tree, from its smooth bark to the long, thick leaves that drape around it like a cloak, are purest white. It takes a moment to figure out that the building is covered in leaves from the white trees.

  I walk once around the enormous building. There are seven entrances. Each is fitted with a stone slab at least twice my height and wide enough for three Halves to move through the opening abreast.

  Deep grooves in the ground show where the stone doors slide away from the entrance. I choose the door with the smallest groove and fewest Halve footprints at its base. It’s far too large for any normal human to budge, and probably takes two Halves working on either side to move it.

  With one hand, I push the stone door aside.

  A shiver runs through me at the change in temperature as I step into the coolness. When I pull the stone door shut behind me, not even a single ray of sunlight follows me inside. I blink as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the dim torchlight.

  Inside, the building is crudely made. Through the cracks in the wooden slats overhead, I can see there are at least ten levels above me. It’s so strange for a fortress to reach up into the sky rather than deep below the earth. If it weren’t for the walls that are made of wood rather than dirt, I wouldn’t believe I was above ground.

  The grunts and thudding footsteps of dozens of Halves reach my ears before I see them. The sour stench of their sweat threatens to choke me. I try to melt into the darkness, covering my mouth.

  Halves are everywhere.

  I slip behind a tall pile of stone debris where I can peer around at the Halves without being noticed.

  I flinch as a tremendous noise cuts through the building. A crude iron contraption with a round stone in its center has begun to whir. The Halves rotate a crank that turns the stone, which they’re using to sharpen thick blades. The screech each blade makes as it touches the rotating stone makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. The metal shavings that fly up from the machine make the Halves choke and sputter.

  A new kind of horror grips me. These aren’t the clumsy wooden clubs of the Halves I’ve fought before.

  If the Halves could destroy whole Subterranes with just their clubs, what kind of ruin will they bring about with these?

  From my hiding place, I can see up through a hole in the ceiling to the next level. There, Halves sit on the ground as they whittle tree trunks into spears. If any of them looked down, they’d be able to see me. But they’re too busy with their work to pay attention to anything else.

  Somewhere far above, I hear the clink of what I assume are metal weapons being tossed onto piles. There must be thousands of blades, spears, and clubs in this building, and the Halves are still making more.

  I didn’t know the Halves even possessed enough intelligence for these simple tasks.

  I watch with a combination of horror and fascination. Who taught the Halves how to make weapons? Even as the question enters my mind, I know the answer. It must be the Dusker.

  Maybe now that the Duskers know where Solis is located, they’re planning to use these Halves to destroy the last people who have resisted their rule.

  The thought makes me want to sprint back to the Solguards to warn them. I want to get Wokee and Aunt Jadem as far away from there as I can. But there’s a voice nagging at the corner of my mind that tells me there has to be something else going on here, some greater purpose to all of these preparations. I just have no idea what it could be.

  Without warning, the Halves stop their work. They march in formation away from the piles of weapons and away from me. There is the sound of scraping, and then I catch a glimpse of great ladders being raised to cut-out holes in the levels above. One by one, the Halves ascend the ladder. I duck back behind the pile of stones before one of their gazes lands on me. If even a single one of these beasts spots me, I’m done for.

  When the floor I’m on seems clear of Halves, I slip out from my hiding place. Maybe they’re keeping the prisoners on the upper floors of this building. If I can follow the Halves, maybe they’ll lead me to Brice and the others.

  I take small, cautious steps in the direction where the last Halves disappeared. The ground is littered with fragments of stone and partly-whittled spears. One wrong step could send a pile of the precariously-balanced weapons crashing to the floor. The last thing I need right now is for my clumsy feet to a
lert every Halve in the building to my presence.

  I’m so intent on my every step that it takes me several moments to register the dark shadow that has crossed my path. Confusion turns to fear as I follow the shadow’s length to two misshapen, hairy feet.

  My mouth opens in a silent scream.

  CHAPTER 35

  A Halve stands before me. This one is taller and less stooped than the ones that captured our company. One of its arms is at least a foot longer than the other, which makes its entire body seem lopsided. A few thin, greasy strands of hair hang from its otherwise bare head.

  The Halve’s wide, black eyes stare straight into mine. It reminds me of the expressionless face of the Halve that murdered my mother. It stood there, just like this one is now, right before it killed her. Terror and hatred pulse deep within me in equal measures.

  Every muscle in my body screams for me to run.

  But if I run now, I might be throwing away my one chance to find the prisoners. Beads of sweat run down the sides of my face as I stand rooted to the ground. My eyes search for something—someone—to help. But I’m alone.

  You are more than the sum of your parts, Hemera. Out of nowhere, my aunt’s words return to me.

  I grab one of the heavy blades from the ground and hold it out in front of me.

  “Come on,” I hiss, flicking the blade at the Halve.

  There are piles of stone clubs and blades on either side of the Halve. Instead of reaching out for a weapon, the Halve extends its deformed arms toward me.

  I keep my blade raised high as I stare at the Halve in confusion.

  The Halve beckons me with its shorter arm as it takes several steps backward. It gestures with its arm again.

  I’ve never seen a Halve act like this.

  Could this just be some kind of distraction to capture me? It seems unlikely the Halves could mastermind such a plan, and besides, there would be no need. The Halve could just make a noise and summon the others.

  Holding the blade until my knuckles are white, I take a step forward. The Halve’s hideous face reveals no expression, but it nods like I’ve done what it wanted.

  The Halve takes two steps back toward me, gestures again, and then walks away. Almost of their own accord, my legs begin to follow.

  As I walk behind the Halve, every muscle in my body prepares for an attack. I peer into the depths of the building to try and see any other Halves that might be lurking in the shadows.

  Instead of walking straight back, the Halve turns to the side of the building. It stops when it reaches a section of wall that is not illuminated by the torches. My heart thuds in my chest.

  It takes me a moment to see what the Halve is pointing to in the darkness. As my eyes adjust, a ladder affixed to the wall appears.

  The Halve nods once to me, and then grasps the sides of the ladder with its gnarled, scarred hands. It hefts its bulk onto the ladder. The rungs sag under the beast but hold as it climbs higher and higher.

  There are large square cut-outs in each floor of the building. The Halve keeps going past each level, and I have to stand at the ladder’s base to watch its progress as it gets farther from the ground.

  When the Halve reaches the top of the building, it pulls itself onto the wooden parapet and turns back to look down at me. The beast beckons to me with its longer arm.

  None of this makes any sense. I hesitate, filled with uncertainty.

  The sound of a door below creaking open makes my decision. I drop the blade and grasp both sides of the ladder.

  When I reach the parapet of the next level, I take a quick glance around. There seems to be nothing there except for metal-tipped spears organized into high piles. I keep climbing, all the while wondering if this is a horrible idea.

  Every other level in the building either holds weapons or supplies that would be needed to sustain an army of hundreds of Halves. When I reach the final parapet, I scramble to my feet in case the Halve plans to attack me while I’m unbalanced. It makes no move toward me, however. The Halve just shakes its head from side to side and covers its twisted mouth with its hand. I take this gesture to mean it wants me to keep quiet. Not that I need reminding.

  The Halve stoops, fiddling with something against the wall. There is a dull click followed by the grating of stone against wood. The Halve slides a panel away from the wall.

  Sunlight spills onto the path. The Halve pushes away the stone door and ducks through the opening. I follow, blinded by the bursts of orange imprinted on my eyes. It’s only when I’m out in the fresh air that I realize I haven’t taken a real breath since entering the building. I draw greedy breaths of air that is free of Halve sweat and rock dust.

  I’m standing at the edge of a wooden bridge that connects the two white buildings. When I look down, my stomach lurches.

  What am I doing?

  The bridge is narrow, with nothing to hold onto on either side. A fall from this height would mean certain death, healing powers or no. The trees on the ground far below send up dazzling streaks of color that are almost blinding in the sunlight.

  Still, there was no sign of the prisoners in the other building. The fastest way to find out if they’re in the second building is by crossing this bridge. I take a deep breath. Be brave, I tell myself. For Brice.

  I take one step forward and sway on the narrow wooden slats. Already dizzy from the height, I try to steady myself.

  If the Halve weren’t a mindless creature, I would demand to know what it wants from me. I would demand to know why it’s here and what it plans to do with me. But I know asking the Halve would be pointless.

  For the hundredth time, I ask myself why I’m still following it instead of killing it. I wonder why it hasn’t killed me. And still, I follow it because it feels too late to do anything else.

  The Halve is already partway across the bridge. Get moving, I tell myself.

  I take small steps across the bridge at first but find it’s easier to keep my balance if I move faster. I keep my eyes on the section of bridge straight in front of me. My hands feel cold even though the air is hot enough to give any normal person the Burn.

  When I look up to where the Halve is waiting for me, my foot catches on an uneven plank. My body pitches to the side. As I get a glimpse of the ground far below, dizziness takes hold of me.

  A scream is lodged in my throat.

  First one foot, and then the other, slips off the bridge. I cling to the wooden slats, but I’m too unbalanced. My feet swing as they search for purchase, but there’s nothing but air below.

  This can’t be happening. I can’t have come so far just to fall off a bridge….

  One sweating hand slips off the bridge. My other hand, gripping the wood, is all that keeps me from plummeting to my death.

  Even as I feel my hand slip, a firm grip closes around my arm. The Halve pulls me until I’m standing upright on the bridge. It watches me as I take deep breaths to steady my quaking limbs.

  A Halve…saved me?

  I wrench my arm free from the Halve’s grip as soon as I’ve regained my balance. The Halve’s arms hang limp and uneven by its sides. It takes a step back from me.

  Guilt edges into my consciousness before I push it away again. It’s a Halve.

  The Halve turns to unlatch the stone covering on the building before us, which looks identical to the one we just came from. The whole of its exterior is covered in the white leaves that somehow keep everything inside from frying. The building stretches so high its top gets lost in the sun’s orange haze.

  The Halve pushes aside the stone covering, sniffs the air inside the building like an animal, and then steps through the opening. The Halve looks back once and gestures for me to follow.

  The inside of this building is dark and stuffy, and it’s impossible to see more than a few feet in front of me. I climb down the steep ladder, feeling my way from rung to rung as my eyes adjust to the dimness. At the bottom of the ladder is a tall stone archway, closed off by roughly-fitting stone doors
. A lantern, which hangs from the top of the arch by an iron peg, is the only light source.

  The Halve takes hold of one of the stone doors, straining against the boulder’s weight. The muscles in its shoulders bulge and flex until there’s an opening wide enough for its body to squeeze through. The Halve looks back at me once, beckons with its longer arm, and then disappears.

  I hesitate, peering through the dark gap between the stone doors where the Halve disappeared. The smell of dank earth makes me feel like I’m back in the narrow tunnels of the Subterrane. My breathing becomes sharper. I close my eyes.

  Gulping, I follow the Halve through the narrow opening. I step into a wide tunnel lit with lanterns hanging from the stone ceiling. There’s enough room for me to stand upright in the tunnel, but the Halve has to crouch to keep from knocking its head.

  The silence is broken by a muffled cough. I stop moving.

  Did I imagine the noise? It could have just been the sound of my heart knocking against my ribs…. But then it comes again, followed by a distinctly human groan.

  The prisoners. They’re here.

  I glance around. On either side of the tunnel are round, stone doors fitted across enclosures that could only be the prisoners’ cells.

  Every nerve in my body is on fire.

  “I’m going to get you out of here!” I call.

  Whispers, and then shouts, echo my call.

  “Hemera?”

  The voice is hoarser than I remember, and muffled from the stone enclave, but it’s his voice.

  CHAPTER 36

  The Halve watches but doesn’t try to stop me as I race down the path and wrench the stone door open. I stumble into the cell and fall into Brice’s arms.

  I’ve thought about this feeling every day since he was taken, but the memory is nothing compared to the reality. Strong, comforting arms wrap around me. I’m so happy I want to weep. And I do. Brice holds me, like I’m the one who has been locked up in a cell all this time and needs to be comforted, rather than the other way around.