Outliers

by Kate L. Mary

  “How are you?” I asked.

  “Been worse,” he replied, trying to brush off my concern, but even the slight shrug made his jaw tighten.

  I looked up at Mira. “How is he?”

  “The Mountari healer said he would be fine with rest,” she replied, “but getting him to understand that has not been easy.”

  “I’m Fortis,” Nyko grunted. “We heal faster than Outliers.”

  “You are Outlier now,” Mira reminded him.

  Nyko pressed his lips together, trying to look annoyed, but the way his mouth quirked up gave him away. “She’s a pain in the ass, this one.”

  Mira rolled her eyes and went back to her weaving. “Some people do not know how to take orders.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” I said, patting my friend on the shoulder once before getting to my feet. “I wanted to check on you before I left.”

  “Where are you going?” Nyko asked.

  “The tower.” I pulled the electroprod free from where I’d tied it to my waist and held it up. “I think Egon might be able to do something with this.”

  “An electroprod.” Nyko moved like he was going to stand. “By the gods. This could be a turning point.”

  Mira tore her gaze from her work and shot him a stern look. “You are not going.”

  “I can walk!” He tried to throw his hands in the air, but the movement made him hiss in pain.

  “You need rest,” Mira said firmly.

  Nyko, his expression still contorted, narrowed his eyes on her. “You going to stand guard?”

  “If I must,” Mira snapped. “Do not test me, Fortis.”

  “Outliers.” Nyko grunted and waved at Mira, this time not even reacting to the movement, which I was grateful for. “The Fortis were fools to think they were weak. I’m being held hostage by a woman half my size!”

  “But with twice your determination.” Mira turned her back to him, focusing on me. “I will make sure he stays where he is so he can heal.”

  I couldn’t help chuckling. “Good luck with that.”

  After we left the little alcove, Indra and I didn’t make it far before she grabbed my arm to stop me. When I turned to face her, she was looking down at the raw spots on my wrists from where I’d been bound.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She looked up, her gaze moving over me. “You are okay to do this?”

  “I’m okay,” I assured her.

  “Promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  “If you are in pain, or if you feel weak from your injuries, you will tell me. Do not risk yourself. Not when we are so close to winning.”

  The fear shimmering in her green eyes matched what I’d felt inside the city, back when I thought we had come all this way only to die. She was afraid of losing me, and it was that fear that made me nod in agreement.

  “I promise. If things get too hard for me, I’ll let you know.”

  “Good,” she whispered, and then slid her hand into mine and kept walking.

  We gathered a small group so we could head out. Atreyu and Tris accompanied Indra, while I elected to bring a man called Hagan.

  For years, Nyko had been my most trusted friend, but I’d had the chance to get to know Hagan three years ago after his son was born an untouchable. The mother, a woman who was most likely now dead, had no problem casting the child aside, but Hagan hadn’t felt the same. Just like I had with Elora, he’d continued to visit his child, and had even given him the name Tad, which meant gift given by God. Hagan was a man I both respected and liked, and having him accompany our group felt as natural as it would have if Nyko were at my side.

  “Your son is an untouchable?” Indra asked as we traveled through the valley, her gaze not focused on Hagan, but on the Lygan Cliffs at our side.

  Thinking about the creatures drew my attention to the cut on her neck, and the teeth sticking through it. Only a couple days had passed, but it looked to be healing okay. I liked to think that if we defeated the Sovereign and Emori came back I could forgive her for what she’d done to my wife, but seeing the evidence in front of me, knowing Indra could have bled to death, I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

  “He is.” Hagan lifted his right hand and extended all but his pinkie and ring finger. “Was born without two fingers.”

  “That is it?” Tris, who walked on Hagan’s other side, asked.

  “That’s it,” he responded simply.

  “How could the Fortis cast aside a child for something so small?” Atreyu asked.

  “How could his mother?” Indra murmured, shaking her head even as her gaze moved over the cliffs.

  “They didn’t care how small the defect was,” I said. “Big or small, they felt certain that if we kept the untouchables around it would curse our village.”

  I thought of my own parents and how quickly they had cast Elora aside. She was the last living child my mother gave birth to. Two other children had followed her, both of them dying in her womb and coming out with deformities much worse than what my sister now lived with. Then there had been the third and final baby, the one that had taken my mother’s life.

  A hand touched my arm, and I turned to find Indra staring at me. “Are you in pain?”

  “No.” I shook my head as I took her hand in mine. “I’m just thinking.”

  “About Elora?”

  “Not just her.” I had never told my wife about my past before, and now didn’t seem like the right time, so I said, “We’ll talk about it later.”

  Indra only nodded.

  I watched her as we moved, realizing I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t shared much about the past. I knew very little about who Indra had been before she came to work in the city, about her childhood, or her parents. Even her sister, who I’d met, was a mystery to me. There had been so little time. Just snippets here and there, moments stolen between battles.

  Hopefully, it wouldn’t always be that way. With any luck, we’d beat the Sovereign, and one day very soon we’d be able to have a real life. Together.

  24

  Indra

  We slowed when we reached the bodies of our fallen army. Asa, Atreyu, and I had already seen the destruction—although several days had passed—but Hagan and Tris had not, and I could tell the charred remains of our people bothered them more than even they had expected.

  “The Sovereign were able to kill all these people at once?” Hagan asked as we wove our way around the rotting corpses.

  “They were,” I answered solemnly.

  The animals—lygan or possibly even grizzards—had made their marks on the dead, and the sights we were met with chilled me to the bone. Too much had happened, and too much had been at risk, to do anything about the bodies, but the guilt weighed heavily on me. It was worse when I passed a corpse I recognized. Like Arkin, Ontari’s former lover. This was a man I had known—respected even—and thinking of him lying here like this sickened me.

  “We must gather them,” Tris said. “Burn the bodies.”

  “We can try,” I replied, “but first we will need to make sure there is no threat from the city. The remaining Fortis could be on the lookout for us. If we bring a big group to the valley and they spot us, the Sovereign could do this again.” I waved to the dead. “It would be a big risk to take.”

  “The Fortis believe their dead won’t find peace unless they’re put to rest. Do the Outliers believe the same?” Hagan asked.

  I looked toward Tris and Atreyu, feeling the same despair radiating off them. “We do.”

  “We burn our dead,” Atreyu added.

  “As do we,” Hagan replied.

  He, too, was frowning, and I knew why. After attacking their village, we had left his people to be picked apart by the grizzards.

  “Do you blame us for leaving your people to rot?” I asked.

  He pressed his lips together as if thinking. “No. That doesn’t mean I don’t blame myself.” He motioned to Asa. “We could have gone back and taken care of it o
urselves, but we chose not to.”

  “It would’ve been a big undertaking,” Asa said.

  “Yes,” Hagan murmured, but I could not tell if he thought it would have been too big a job.

  We paused at the edge of the valley, just past where the Lygan Cliffs fell away. In front of us sat the lake, to the right the remains of the Fortis village. The city loomed, as fortified and imposing as ever, but there was no movement that I could see. Not in the charred ashes of the village, and not in the stretch of land in front of us.

  “It looks okay,” I said.

  Asa frowned as he scanned the landscape. “You’d think they’d be out looking for us after what happened.”

  “Perhaps they are planning,” I replied.

  “If that’s the case,” Asa grabbed my hand and started walking, “we should hurry.”

  I could not argue with him.

  We moved swiftly as we passed the lake, my gaze going from the city to the shoreline where dozens of dead fish sat rotting in the sun. In the distance, the early morning sun shone off the mirrors, and I had to lift my hand to shield my eyes from the rays. There was no movement around the tower, but that was to be expected. The people living there were probably too scared to come out. Too much had happened, even more than they knew, and as out of touch with the outside world as they were, they probably felt as if they had been left in the dark.

  When we finally reached the tower, Asa led the way inside, and like my first visit, I was struck by how cold and dark the interior was. Not deterred by the blackness—or possibly used to it—Asa moved without hesitating. Up the stairs and into the darkness, acting as if he did not need light to find his way.

  Hagan moved in much the same manner, but at the back of our group Atreyu and Tris walked much more slowly, and I could understand why. They had never set foot in here and had no idea what to expect. It would be jarring, I knew, because I had felt the same way the first time I came here. The uncertainty, followed by the shock of what I was seeing.

  We stopped at the first landing, and just like the last time, Asa paused. “The people in here may look different, but they’re just like us. All they want is to live in peace.”

  “It will be okay.” I rested my hand on his arm. “We will make sure of it.”

  Asa turned the knob and shoved the door open.

  I followed him inside and was once again greeted by the stench of sweat, dirt, and human filth. Just like before, lanterns were spread throughout the room, casting shadows across the people who worked to hide their deformities while at the same time making it seem as if my eyes were playing tricks on me. People shifted, moving in and out of focus, and behind me Tris let out a gasp. Hagan had already moved forward and was kneeling in front of a small child, a boy no more than three years of age.

  In a blink, he swept his son into his arms and turned back to face us, smiling like he had returned home after a very long absence. “This is Tad.”

  Tris managed to smile at the child even as her gaze moved across the room. Behind her, Atreyu stood in stunned silence.

  I recognized Elora when she extracted herself from the crowd and rushed toward her brother. “Asa!”

  She threw her arms around him, and he returned the hug, his own face alight with joy.

  “You’re okay,” Elora said, her face pressed against his chest and muffling her words.

  “I’m okay.” Asa did not let her go, but he did pull back enough that he was able to look at me. “Indra came into the city and saved me.”

  Elora wiped tears from her cheeks as she, too, turned her gaze on me. “Thank you.”

  “I could not leave my husband to die.”

  “Husband?” Elora looked between Asa and me. “You’re married?”

  Asa reached his free hand out and I took it, moving to their side. We shared a moment of soft smiles and unspoken words, before Asa once again looked at his sister.

  “We are,” he said.

  Elora’s smile stretched wider, then she released her brother so she could wrap me in a hug.

  She smelled of sweat and dirt, but I did not pull away because the gesture was so open and welcoming. I could feel her third arm on my lower back, her fingers flexing against my hip. It was an odd sensation, but nothing to shrink away from. Nothing that should have sentenced her to a life of exile.

  “Elora,” Asa said, his voice gentle but more serious. “I need to see Egon.”

  His sister pulled away so she could face him. “Egon’s in the control room.”

  “Then that’s where we need to go.”

  Elora led the way even though Asa most likely knew how to get there on his own. I followed, looking the people in the room over as I did. I caught sight of the two girls I saw the first time I was here, the ones who appeared to be attached at the hip, as well as the boy who had no legs. There were people like these whose deformities were apparent, but there were others as well who looked no different or whose issues were as small as a shriveled ear. No matter the deformity, I was determined to save them from the tower they had been forced to cower in. Like my people, they deserved to be free of the Sovereign.

  Elora led us out of the room and we climbed the stairs in silence, winding our way through the tower. Each time we reached a landing, I detected sounds coming from behind the closed doors that told me more people were living there. We passed four before the stairs ended and we found ourselves on the top level. Here the door was open, allowing us to enter without preamble, and when we stepped inside, a man turned to face us.

  I had seen him before, only two days ago, standing on the other side of the bubble. The left side of his face looked scaly and rough like the bark of a tree, as did his hand. I had a sense that whatever this was ran along the entire right side of his body, and when he stood and moved toward us, the way his left leg dragged slightly seemed to confirm it.

  “Asa.” He looked the rest of us over, his unmarred hand stroking his long beard.

  “This is Egon,” Asa said as he moved forward.

  Egon appeared to be around a half a century old, and the gray streaked in his dark hair seemed to verify it. He wore clothes that were obviously Fortis castoffs, his pants worn enough that there were holes in the knees and the shirtsleeves frayed. His brown eyes were kind and intelligent when they looked us over, though, gentle in a way that contradicted his massive size that marked him as Fortis born.

  Egon focused on me and smiled, the right side of his mouth barely lifting while the left side rose enough that his cheek deepened, creating a dimple. “You must be Indra. Elora has talked about you.”

  “I am,” I said.

  Egon looked back at Asa. “She’s quite the beauty, my friend.”

  I flushed at the compliment, but the heat in my cheeks turned to something else when Asa looked my way and whispered, “She is.”

  It was little more than a glance, though, and then he was pulling the electroprod out, once again focused on Egon. “I brought you this.”

  The other man’s face lit up. “How?”

  He took it from Asa, gently. Almost hesitantly. Holding it like it was a great treasure and not an instrument of torture.

  “We managed to overtake the Fortis guards so we could escape.” Asa motioned at me. “Indra killed the Sovereign woman and stole this.”

  “Amazing,” Egon said, his eyes still on the weapon. “I’ve never seen one in person.”

  “Will it be helpful?” Hagan asked.

  Egon did not look up. “Very much so.”

  “How?” I said. “How can something so small matter?”

  The man tore his gaze from the electroprod and focused on me. “This may seem small, but it will help me better understand the technology the Sovereign use.” He turned away, waving for us to follow.

  We did, wordlessly, and I took my first good look around the room. The walls were covered in blinking lights. They were red and green, a few even orange. Beside them sat buttons, and above those characters had been printed that I knew ma
de words even though I could not decipher a single one. There were also glass squares mounted where more symbols flashed. Numbers, as well as letters. They changed constantly.

  Egon stopped in front of a desk stacked high with books. “This is where we control everything.”

  “What do you mean, everything?” Atreyu asked.

  Egon looked back at my friend. “I mean, everything.”

  “Not everyone in the tower knows how to keep things working,” Elora explained. “Only a few of us are trained.”

  “You?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I’m learning.”

  “She’s a good student.”

  Egon was once again focused on the desk in front of him, his fingers working rapidly to turn the pages of a book. Inside, more figures were scrawled, but they were not printed the way the words in Saffron’s books were. They had been written by hand. Probably by Egon.

  “We’re taught only the basics,” the man began, not looking back at us. “Just enough to keep the city working. Over the years, though, a few of us have learned how to do more. It’s a special knack a person has to have. A mind that understands something it shouldn’t be able to. We take notes here,” Egon tapped his finger against the book, “so the next generation will know.”

  “Egon has a mind like no one before him,” Elora said.

  He finally lifted his gaze so he could smile at her, then looked our way. “Most people look at these blinking lights and flashing words and see nothing but technology. To me, the lights and alerts are talking. It’s a different language, but it’s one I happen to understand very well.” He let out a low chuckle. “Better than I understand people most of the time, I’m afraid.”

  Turning back to his book, he continued flipping the pages as he spoke. “The problem is, very little has changed over the last few decades. The Outliers work in the city, the Fortis guard the Sovereign, and we keep the electricity running. There was very little more we could learn. Things changed when the bubbles appeared. The energy we collected from the mirrors was dispersed differently, the readouts on the monitors changed.” He waved to the glass squares with the tiny green characters. “I was able to learn so much about how the power can be used.” Egon lifted his head and looked right at me as he swept the electroprod up off the desk. “Then the sovereign used the electricity to shock an entire valley. What they did was not much different than this. Only on a much bigger scale. If I could understand a little more about how the electroprods work, I could replicate it somehow. Maybe even use it as a weapon.”