by BC Powell
As the woman walks past the tree, the bulky man’s red eyes flame with fury. He’s not used to being given orders, the woman knows, especially from a female. Standing a few feet away from the brute, the former Traveler shakes with anger. The woman stops directly in front of the beast from the northwest Barrens.
“Do you believe that because you’re a man, you have the right to treat a woman that way?” the woman asks loudly enough for all to hear.
“I’ve learned to take what I want!” the Murkovin growls.
“That’s no longer the way of the Barrens.”
“You don’t decide the way of the Barrens!”
The former Traveler aims her eyes at the woman. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help.”
“I know you can,” the woman says without looking away from the male Murkovin. “I’ve seen her kill someone larger than you,” she says to him. “You’ll have your hands full if you tangle with this one.”
“I fear no one, and no one stands in my way.”
“Does that include me?” the woman asks.
The man glances at the ground behind him where his weapon is propped up on a rock. After returning his eyes to the woman, he assesses her stance, measures the possible strength lurking in her lean frame, and tries to judge the will of her mind. He’s plotting his next move carefully, the woman realizes, and not about to back down. She immediately decides that she needs to make an example of this man.
Every person at the camp has seen her compassion and willingness to provide what she can for others. Her servant has told them of the woman’s benevolence towards her and her child. The Murkovin at camp are well aware that she intends to improve the lives of all who dwell in the Barrens. But now is the time to show them that she’ll always stand up for others. The woman releases her grip on the shaft of her weapon and lets it fall to the ground.
“We don’t need spears,” she says.
The brute points at the top of the hill behind the woman. “What about him?”
“He won’t be involved. I don’t need his help or a weapon to kill the likes of you.”
The veins in the man’s forehead bulge from his skin. She knows how her words must enrage him, the indignation he must feel from being chastised by a woman. His anger, the self-righteous sense of superiority so prevalent in his kind, will be weapons she can use against him.
“What are you waiting for?” the woman taunts. “Are you frightened of a woman?”
He grits his teeth and crouches. Slowly inching towards the woman, he rocks his weight from foot to foot. With her arms limp at her sides, the woman takes several steps backwards. The beast claws at the air between them with one hand, watching to see if she’ll react. Her eyes never leave his as she continues to back away.
The beast finally lunges at the woman and aims a fist at her face. She leans forward, almost as though she’s falling into his blow. No one watching knows for sure what happens next, but they all gasp in response. For the briefest of moments, no more than the beat of a heart, her body flashes into light.
Brilliant horizontal extrusions burst past the man’s side but instantly reshape into her body. Coming out of her split-second blend a few feet behind him, the woman spins towards the man. Before he can stop his forward motion, she hooks one of her legs around his shin and throws her shoulder against his back. As they both fall to the ground, she hurls an arm around his neck and grabs his ear with that hand. After slapping her other hand to the front of his face, she drives a fingertip into his eye.
They slam to the dirt with the beast underneath her. Still clutching his head, the woman pops her knees up to the center of his back. While digging her kneecaps into his spine, she tightens her grip on his skull.
With one sharp twist, the woman snaps the brute’s neck. As she continues to rotate his head, the crackles of tearing cartilage leak from his skin. She doesn’t stop until his face looks straight up at hers.
The Murkovin frantically tries to inhale a breath, but his broken neck and twisted esophagus keep the air from his lungs. Taking perverse pleasure in the sight, the woman watches his eyes bulge from their sockets. After the final beat of his heart finally echoes in his chest, she clasps a handful of his hair. Standing to her feet, the woman lifts the corpse by her side for all to see.
“If you believe the old ways are best for the Barrens,” the woman yells to the group of Murkovin, “you’re free to leave now. No harm will come to you. Return to the area of the Barrens you came from and live out your life.
“But make no mistake. A new Barrens is rising. There’s no place for anyone who tries to take from others by force. Our kind will learn to live in peace the way we’re doing at this camp. Anyone who refuses can live in solitude—or die.”
With a combination of awe and disbelief at what they just witnessed, the men and women sitting on the hillside stare at the woman. One female lifts her spear from the ground and plunges the tip down on a rock by her feet. Again and again, she raises her weapon and thrusts it back down, sending loud clacks through the valley.
One by one, the other Murkovin pick up their spears and hammer them back down. As a thunderous boom of steel colliding with stone resounds through the surrounding hills, the woman graciously bows to them.
When the clamor finally recedes, the woman turns away. Out of the corner of one eye, she notices the former Traveler and the young man with long hair walk to the end of the row of Murkovin. They sit on the ground side by side. The woman drags the corpse towards the hill where the tall Murkovin still stands.
After she reaches the slope, she hauls the dead body to the crest. The tall Murkovin expects her to stop beside him, but she continues straight over the top of the hill and down the backside.
“I’ll get rid of his body,” the tall Murkovin calls out to her.
The woman stops but doesn’t look back at him. “I take care of my own dead.”
“You didn’t even take a step,” he says. “All you did was lean into the light and blend.”
The woman turns her face to him, nods her head, and then resumes her walk down the hill. At the bottom of the slope, she hoists the corpse over her shoulder. As she runs to the east, rays of light bloom before her eyes. She only travels for a few moments before disentangling from the beams near the edge of a deep, narrow ravine.
Standing on the ledge of the bluff, she holds the face of the dead Murkovin in front of hers. Her eyes fill with loathing and she spits in his face.
“I’ve killed your kind before,” she whispers. “I’ll kill you again. For you, my Ovì.”
She hurls the corpse into the ravine. The body pounds to the rocks at the bottom of the gully, shattering the bones hidden under pale skin. The woman stares down at the limp corpse while thoughts of the past whisk through her mind. Memories of her Ovì, memories of so many morrows of her youth surviving on her own, and memories of the many lives she’s taken.
She turns away from the ravine and runs in the direction of the camp. She doesn’t bother to blend her light, relishing in the power of her long, trim legs churning across the rocky terrain. When she reaches the base of the hill where the tall Murkovin still waits, she stops and removes a steel flask from her belt. Guzzling the red liquid inside, she immerses herself in the wave of new energy that pumps through her veins. She doesn’t pull the flask away from her lips until the last drop has rolled down her throat.
After returning the flask to her belt, she walks to the top of the hill. Once on the crest, she stands beside her most trusted companion. While looking down at the group of Murkovin still sitting in front of the tree, she notices that the former Traveler is no longer with them.
“The former Traveler left?” the woman asks the tall Murkovin.
“A few moments ago,” he replies. “The young man with long hair went with her.”
“Maybe she’s finally found something for herself,” the woman murmurs.
“I apologize for bringing the man you had to kill to camp.”
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br /> “It’s not your fault that he was the way he was,” the woman says. “Never underestimate how much you’ve helped me. I’ve often tried to imagine what kind of a man my Mür was. My Ovì told me that he was a loyal man, a strong man, a fair man. I’m quite certain he was much like you.”
The tall Murkovin keeps his eyes stoically focused on the tree at the bottom of the hill. “I’m sure he’d be just as proud of the person you are as I am.” He holds a spear out to the woman. “I fetched your weapon for you while you were gone.”
“Thank you,” the woman replies, taking it from him.
“I’ll see you on the morrow,” he says.
The tall Murkovin trots down the hill. When he reaches the bottom, the woman’s eyes drift to the few remaining people still gathered near the tree.
Perhaps I won’t need to end the former Traveler’s life, the woman thinks. Maybe with the long-haired young man, she’ll find what she’s been looking for in the Barrens. She can finally fulfill the need for companionship and release the physical desires that she’s been trying to bury for so long.
No matter how much I press her, she only reveals tiny pieces of disjointed information about the Delta, nothing I don’t already know. But she could prove to have even greater value after the Delta falls.
I need to keep the attack on the Delta a secret from her until after it occurs. Hide her at a camp somewhere in the outer Barrens before the attack, maybe with the long-haired young man at her side.
Once the Delta is ours, I can blame the attack on the former Watcher. I’ll tell her that I believed he was dead, only to learn later that he was secretly building an army of the type of Murkovin I killed moments ago. I can tell her that he had others spread the word of his death, but he was actually hiding in the Desert, well out of the view of my eyes across the Barrens. I’ll blame the fall of the Delta on him and him alone. She’ll believe I was ignorant of the entire plan.
Although we’ll kill many of the people in the Delta, we’ll let a few of the skilled workers live so they can train our kind. We’ll barter the lives of the children with the Tree of Vision for seeds to spread across the wasteland. She could help convince the remaining people of the Delta to put their trust in me, to believe that I’m their salvation.
Chapter 34
“Anything?” I ask Maya.
She remains silently statuesque while seated on the ground. Already knowing what her answer will be, I look at the bleak countryside.
“Nothing,” she says.
We left the Delta early in the morrow, long before the other children at Home were awake, and headed straight to the area on the map that Aven had shown to us. The problem is, when pointing at the map, the tip of my daughter’s finger equates to millions of square miles. Sash tried to approximate the center of that point, and that’s where we started the search. The entire morrow has been spent working our way through an outward spiral with stops only a few hundred miles apart. Most of the Delta has probably gone to sleep by now. We appear to have hit another dead end.
“Maybe Aven was wrong,” I say to Sash. “Maybe she just wanted to feel like she was helping.”
“I don’t think so,” she replies.
“Even if she can hear the trees, how would they know where Tela is?”
“I don’t know,” she answers. “Maybe the trees out here can sense Tela and communicate with the other trees across the wasteland. Maybe the trees in the Delta can hear the trees in the Barrens. Maybe the trees in the Delta somehow told Aven what they heard. I don’t know how Aven could know, but I believe our daughter.”
Looking down at the ground, I rearrange a few rocks with the tip of my boot. I was so excited the night before that I could barely sleep. But as the morrow has worn on, my initial excitement has withered away. I have the same sinking feeling that I had after getting my hopes up from Angelicusepte’s information, only to see it lead to nothing.
“Let’s go a little farther out before returning to the Delta,” Sash says.
“Sure,” I mumble.
Once Maya is on my back, we curve a few hundred miles to the northeast. We stop on top of a particularly steep, rocky hill with large boulders strewn across its slopes. Maya slides to the ground, finds a spot on the dirt, and rests on all fours. After a few minutes pass, she scratches the dirt with her fingernails and shakes her head.
“This hill is a good landmark to remember for the next time we come out,” I say to Sash. “We should head back to the Delta. I think we’re all exhausted.”
Slowly turning in a circle, Sash surveys the weary hills. When she comes to a stop, she focuses her eyes on Maya. Despite Sash’s confidence in what Aven told us, I know she must be feeling the same frustration that I am.
“Let’s go,” Sash says to Maya. “It’s late.”
I reach a hand down and gently grip Maya’s arm. As I pull her to her feet, she jerks her arm away and throws herself to the ground.
“Wait!” Maya shouts.
She squeezes her eyes shut and clenches her jaw. Not a single muscle in her body twitches while she concentrates on whatever she sensed.
“I feel someone familiar,” Maya says, aiming her face towards the east. “That way.”
“Do you think it’s Tela?” Sash asks.
“It has to be,” she answers. “It’s far away and very weak, but I never sense the Murkovin.”
“Let’s head east,” Sash says.
My heart suddenly races with new hope. I lift Maya from the ground and swing her onto my back. We don’t even bother to strap her into the harness. She fastens her hands around my chest and I loop an arm under her leg. With my spear in the grip of my other hand, I bound down the hill behind Sash.
When we reach the bottom of the slope, we sprint towards the east and jolt into our blends. Since we don’t plan on going very far, we keep our traveling speed as slow as we can while also trying to stay out of sight. Nervous anticipation makes it seem like hours go by, but no more than a couple of minutes pass before Sash exits the beams. I coast to a stop beside her in a gully at the base of a large hill.
As we climb the slope, we scrutinize the surrounding terrain for any sign of Murkovin. Before we reach the top, Sash motions for me to let Maya off my back. Once she’s on the ground, the three of us crawl towards the crest and stop a few feet before reaching the peak. Sandwiched in between Sash and me, Maya lies flat on her stomach with her hands pressed to the rocky dirt.
“I feel her,” Maya whispers. “She’s close.”
“What do you feel?” Sash asks quietly.
“I feel sadness and . . .” Maya pauses and closes her eyes. “And something else. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s strong.”
“Are you sure it’s Tela?” I ask.
Maya shudders as though she’s in pain and then blinks her eyes open.
“What’s the matter?” Sash asks.
“It is Tela,” Maya answers. “She feels awful. She’s ashamed and hopeless and wants to die.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Sash tells her. “Both of you stay here.”
Sash scoots up to the ridge and peeks over the top. Her eyes slowly roam across the terrain in front of her but soon stop on something. She squints at the distance for several moments and then eases her body back down the slope to Maya’s side.
“What did you see?” I ask.
“Glints of light. They were reflections from steel, probably spears. They were about three miles from here and a mile apart. I think two Murkovin are keeping watch from separate hilltops.”
“Maybe they’re holding Tela captive,” I say.
“It’s possible. Let’s get back down to the gully. Make sure to stay out of sight.”
Sliding backwards on our bellies, we descend the slope. About a third of the way down, we rise to our feet and make our way to the ravine. Sash takes a quick drink of sap from her flask.
“Take Maya back to the Delta,” she says, returning the flask to her belt. “Don’t stop, don’t look b
ack, and go as fast as you can. We don’t know how many Murkovin might be in this area, so you need to get her to safety.”
“What are you planning to do?” I ask.
“I want to see what we’re up against.”
“You can’t fight them alone,” I say. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I won’t get in a fight with them.”
“You should come with us,” I urge. “We’ll get more people and come back. You can’t do this alone.”
She shakes her head. “They could be on the move. We need to know how many there are before we can do anything. It’s easier to find out if I’m alone.”
“It’s way too dangerous. You can’t rescue Tela by yourself.”
“I won’t try to rescue her,” she says. “I know how to stay hidden in the Barrens better than anyone else. The more of us there are, the easier it is to be seen. We need to know what they’re doing and how many there are before we can make a plan.”
I turn my face away for a moment, knowing that Sash is right about her being the best person to spy on them. She’s also right that Maya’s safety is our top priority.
“Promise me you won’t try to fight with them,” I say, returning my attention to Sash. “If they see you, you have to run. You need to think about Aven and . . . and after everything we’ve been through, I can’t lose you now.”
She rests a hand on my shoulder. “Nobody is losing me. I won’t get in a fight. You have to trust me on this.”
“Maya and I could wait here for you,” I suggest.
“No,” Sash says, pulling her hand away from me. “It might take a while to learn what I need to about them. I want to know that Maya is safe in the Delta. Wait for me there. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” I reluctantly reply.
Sash looks at Maya. “I’m very proud of you. We never could have found Tela without you.”
For the first time I’ve ever seen, after months and months of us all being together in the Barrens and all the months I’ve known her before that, the corners of Maya’s lips curl into a smile.
“Thank you,” she replies. “I’m honored I could help.”