Senior Karish pounces toward them. “What is the meaning of this? How did you summon us from our shoreline? From our shoreline!” he roars.
“It is the Banji,” the Maiden says as she stands upright to approach the glinting beast. She lights her body ablaze, turning the sand beneath her steps to glass, preventing her from slipping downward once more. “The flower’s spell is strengthened by extended contact, altered on these wicked sands brought here by the Star.”
As she speaks, the ship continues its advance, rippling the sand as it sends a third volley of skulls toward them. The Millia, between the company and the ship, burst apart as the skulls puncture their forms and continue rocketing onward. The sandy creatures turn to look behind them with vehement, shifting eyes. One narrowly misses Valarie and Harry. All they can do is scrunch their eyes closed. Another skull connects. This time, it tears Eek’s head and neck from his buried torso.
“NO!” screams Azkar. “BROTHER!” But his youngest sibling is mutilated beyond saving. Weeping hard, Azkar struggles to free himself of the sand’s grip. He shifts his weight, dislodging enough sand for him to wedge out his shoulders, then his arms. Steam rises steadily from his eyelids as the fever of his flame evaporates his tears before they can fall.
“The ship!” Tessa yelps, her voice barely audible through the sand and above Azkar’s grief-ridden moans. The Maiden and Senior Karish turn to look. “We’ll be buried beneath it!”
“Millia! Destroy!” Senior Karish growls. The beasts run and jump together in a thunderclap of sand, momentarily fusing into one mammoth form before morphing into distinct shapes once more. They scale the side of the black ship as if it were a play structure and begin tearing its boards apart with thrashing fangs and piercing talons. The vessel is dismantled in a matter of breaths and the Millia mutate into tidal waves that repeatedly crash upon the enchanted black wood until only splinters and plasma remain.
The Millia shriek. With unquenchable hunger, they leech the blood from the sand, sucking it into themselves as Archie had witnessed them do once before, on the southern beach the day the Atlantic Odyssey shipwrecked there.
“Perhaps we stay, claim this desert, yes, claim this desert as our own,” bellows Senior Karish.
“TESSA!” pleads the Maiden.
“The Millia are appeased,” Tessa whispers through her silt-covered lips as Ardenal, who has freed his arms, beats back the sand encroaching further on her face. In a brilliant flash of light, the desert is once more unanimated, yet resumes its slippery suction; the voices of the Millia are replaced with the wheeze of the quicksand in its one long inhale.
“We are going to di—!” screams Tessa, but Ardenal shoves his fingers into her mouth so her tongue cannot form the prophetic words.
The Olearons wriggle free and, like the Maiden, fan their limbs wide on the sand’s surface. They ignite their bodies. The tiny shards beneath them melt into firm glass an inch thick, allowing the Olearons to kneel, stand, and walk, unaffected by the quicksand. They frantically excavate the humans’ heads, scooping away the sand before it clogs their nostrils. Kameelo rests Nate’s body on a piece of glass and joins the others in the effort. Ardenal too shoves away large handfuls to expose Tessa’s chin and soon she can drop her jaw to gulp in air—but the relief is fleeting.
“We cannot dig fast enough!” Nameris yells.
Tessa’s eyes grow wide. “A tornado!” she whimpers.
“Here we go again,” Zeno huffs as he slouches, exasperated, on Archie’s shoulder. Duggie-Sky, too, looks weary of the onslaught and distressed at Eek’s demise.
The windstorm that had inflated the sails of the black-blood ship was displaced once the vessel was destroyed. It languished here and there, unnoticed until now, as it picks up speed and spews sharp grit in every direction. The quicksand is no match for the volatile lust of the tornado; it grabs sand, humans, Olearons, and Bangol, lifting them toward the sun. Even Eek’s body is freed and Azkar grabs ahold of it.
“Dampen your flames!” Kameelo orders through a coughing fit as his mouth brims with granules. “Our heat will turn the sand to daggers that will pierce us through!” The Olearons calm themselves, recoil their heat and expel coolness to their limbs. Their fire retreats beneath their dreadlocks.
All members of the company bash into each other as the group is spun higher into the sandstorm. Cries of pain swirl with them, though every voice is detached from its moaning lips.
Abruptly they are pulled to the center of the tornado, to float suspended among grains of sand in a pocket of peaceful air. “Tessa,” the Maiden calls, her voice measured and calm, “you must imagine our safety. Bring us to the ground on the northeast side of this desert. You can do this. Do it for Ella. We must save her.”
Tessa’s dilated eyes whip around to each human and Olearon, and to Zeno as well, but she fails to focus—until she spots Azkar. The Olearon clutches the lifeless pieces of Eek; his body and severed neck and head. The Banji’s effect is forceful, encompassing; and Tessa frets instead. “See? We are being pulled in two!” She points—and, at her unknowing command, the wind whirls faster, pelting them sharply with sand.
Harry cries out in agony. “Tessa! Save us,” he wails as the sharp sandstorm eats away his shirt, stained with Valarie’s blood.
“Imagine the forest on the far edge of the desert,” Ardenal urges. “The milky-white trees are tall, only dwarfed by the mountain itself. They are robed in vines, like gowns that drape and fold. Picture them, Tessa. The sunshine illuminates their bark so that the forest glows and sparkles, so bright you must shield your eyes. This woodland on the east was once the home of the sprites, before the construction of the Bangols bridges. The trees still remember their magic. They call for us, Tess. Take us there.”
“Yes! I see them through the storm!” marvels Tessa. “The forest is dense. Their branches reach, cradling the nests of fowl! The vines braid the trunks together. It’s exquisite!”
“Good, Tessa. Wonderful!” Ardenal praises. “Now see their branches stretch farther, reaching out to us. Their trunks bow in our direction.”
“They want us to live. They’re trying to save us,” Tessa sings, and the others finally see the trees and vines and nests as Tessa’s words carry the forest’s edge into view. The towering trunks arch before the spiteful gale.
Ardenal continues to guide Tessa’s hallucinations. “Now see their viney-creepers unfurl from around them.”
“They are! They creep like caterpillars up along the branches, and reach, stretching for us.”
“Yes, Tessa, keep them coming! Now, shift the storm,” Ardenal says. “Bring us close.” The vines and the wind obey. The leafy creepers undulate through the sandy air and curl about the bodies of the company as they had around their trunks.
“Pull us—quickly—to the treetops so we don’t plummet to the ground!” Ardenal yells. The company is snapped out of the raging wind and through the calm blue sky tinged with orange as the sun retreats into dusk.
“A net!” Ardenal yells as they fall toward the leafy canopy below. “The forest will save us!”
Tessa beams. The vines obligingly weave together to form a broad net as the group crashes through the upper leaves, startling birds and arboreal creatures that burst into the sky or scurry out of the way. The group hits the vines, bouncing and colliding until they finally stop, resting atop each other thirty feet above the forest floor, still tangled in the creepers.
The only sound is the weeping of Azkar, his thick scar pinched across is pained face. He clutches what is left of Eek. The deceased Olearon’s blood drips to the leaf litter beneath them.
“Where are we?” Nate’s voice startles them all. No one noticed when he regained consciousness.
“We are in the eastern forest. Rolace’s dwelling is not far,” Nameris answers faintly.
The Maiden ignites a flame in the palm of her hand and wraps it around one anchored vine after another. They drop, one jerky foot at a time, until they tumble onto the
moist earth. The humans use their glass blades to hack off the remaining vines.
Ardenal had clutched tight to Tessa, chest to chest, as they had risen in the tornado and also as they were rescued by Tessa’s vision of the bending forest. He now steps back as he and the company realize that the Banji had pressed against him as he hugged his wife. “I must be affected. Did Tessa cause the vines to save us—or did I? Disorientation . . . it’s wafting through my senses.” Ardenal steps aside willingly as Nate eagerly approaches to watch over Tessa.
“We must perform the scorching ceremony,” the Maiden says gently to Azkar. “Will you honor Eek, or would you have Kameelo or Nameris do it? Or shall I?”
“I will,” whispers Azkar through his flame. “He was my little brother. He was under my care. I should have saved him, taken the evil skull myself and died, but, at the very least, I will honor him now.”
Azkar’s fire burns over Eek, bright, blazing and elevated, just shy of the lowest dangling leaves overhead. The Olearon’s skin morphs from the usual warm red to yellow, then to smoldering blue. Azkar’s flame envelopes Eek’s body, which radiates as a blinding white light. The humans are forced to look away.
“The forest is on fire!” Tessa screams. “The flames jump off Azkar! They burn the white bark to charcoal!”
“Get her away from here,” demands the Maiden. Nate leads Tessa away from the memorial, calming her in a hushed voice, stroking her hair. Ardenal, lucid enough to walk, staggers over to throw dirt against the oxidizing bark.
Valarie chews her lips and folds her arms across her chest. “Nate, can I come with you?”
“Not now,” he answers.
Valarie scowls at Nate’s back while scratching dried blood from the outside of her nose, still pinching it closed. She stands alone on the perimeter of the group, then tiptoes into the trees.
The ash of Eek’s body floats peacefully upward, swaying lazily from side to side. The Maiden begins to sing. Eek’s brothers join her. Azkar’s voice is low and lamenting: “Eek, your warrior spirit is invincible, from sunset to sunset, world to world, from this Star to the next. With every step, every breath, every laugh, we carry your bravery with us.”
Archie clears his throat. “I’d like to pay my respects to someone who showed such kindness to my son. Thank you, Eek.” Azkar nods at Archie with gratitude.
The Olearons—the Maiden, Nameris, Kameelo, and Ardenal—encircle Azkar, who looks up to the cinders and powdery remains. They link their bodies and walk in a circle around Azkar and what is left of Eek, the fixed points at their center. Their flames funnel together and swoop up through the leaves into the dull sky in a faultless column of fire.
Chapter 36
“Nanjee lost her leg when our balloon crashed. It wasn’t Luggie’s fault! He was bringing us in for a nice landing when suddenly, whoosh! The wind sucked inland, back toward the patch of desert. We had a small area to set down in, on the rocky shore between the white forest and ocean. I think it was a hard landing for all the Bangols, but we were last. The rest of them were on the ground already, standing on large boulders strewn across the beach, watching us. That’s a lot of pressure.
As our balloon jolted toward the tall white trees, I pulled the sack over my head. Even if I died, I didn’t want Nanjee and Luggie getting into trouble because of me. Both were pulling the ropes but I’m guessing that together they weigh less that one adult Bangol. Our clay basket hit a tree and cracked open like a nut. We fell—I don’t know how far. Rough hands hauled me away. Nanjee’s screams were horrible. She kept yelling, “My leg! Where is my leg?”
Luggie didn’t make a noise. I hollered for him, but it sounded all wrong, and the waves were loud. I tried to rip off the sack, but they pulled it over my body and dragged me. I hit my head against something solid and passed out. I woke up in this stone jail. It’s fine, as far as cells go. I think only one day has passed, but I can’t be sure.
Last night all the Bangols were muttering about some happening on Jarr-Wya. I could overhear them through the rocky walls, which are full of cracks. I can hear and see quite a bit in every direction. I found a small opening to shove my face against and could make out a streak of fire off in the distance. It rose taller than the trees, glowing in the almost night sky. It got the Bangols hustling.
A minute later they hauled my cellmate out by her foot. She was a school teacher, on her honeymoon. Deb was her name. She hadn’t seen her husband since the first fireball hit the Odyssey. Deb talked a lot. She gave off the girlfriends-having-coffee vibe, even if we were sitting in a damp, eight-foot cell, surrounded by our own filth because there was nowhere else to relieve ourselves. Deb said when they were in her clay basket, the Bangols questioned her about purity.
Deb said they asked her repeatedly, “Are you pure?” She was like, “How do I answer that?” She told them that she was, hoping that they wouldn’t hurt her if she was pure. I think this made Deb a little cocky. They treated her better than me, that’s for sure. She wasn’t all that scared when the Bangols came for her—but she should have been.
They dragged her to the end of a long stone bridge, where Tuggs was waiting. They had a big ceremony with amazing-smelling candles and flowers. Then they threw Deb into the ocean. She had a hundred stones tied to her ankles.
What’s that sound? My name . . . Someone is whispering to me. Luggie! I stick my fingers through a crack and touch him. I get that giddy feeling in my stomach. Then I press my ear to the crack to listen.
“My father is sacrificing people,” Luggie says. I feel cold suddenly, but I’m sweating. Luggie’s words make my head dizzy. I realize that the voices of the screaming people, every night, are now dead bodies, floating like a garden planted at the bottom of the sea.
“My father believes that, because your kind are from another world and so is the Star, he can bribe it. But we Bangols are connected to the land. We can sense no change to the poison in Jarr-Wya’s clay and soil after the first ten sacrifices—and our race are no more powerful. My dad and his warriors are getting desperate. They think the Olearons are hunting them.
“I told him that you are not a good sacrifice,” Luggie continues. “I think you’re great, Ella—but I said that you are broken, impure. I told him about your cut mark. I hope he trusts me. I’m trying to convince him that we should retreat to our fortress in the north and take the rest of the captives with us. That’s inland, though. My dad is obsessed with the Star and everything happening above it. I hope he will listen to me. Once I get you to my home, then we can figure out what to do next.
“Here’s something to eat.” Luggie shoves the bread I love through the hole. It breaks apart and I catch every crumb.
“Oh no . . .” Luggie whispers. I press my eye back to the crack. It’s Tuggs!
Tuggs punches Luggie across the face. Luggie falls to his knees. He’s bleeding. Tuggs kicks him in the gut. Tuggs points at my cell and I crawl away from the opening. My heart hurts. I look back through the crack, but they are gone.
The door of my cell screams open on its salt-rusted hinges. I know I should be humble and beg for my life. I know I should cower and be broken, like Luggie told his dad about me—what everyone back home thinks about me as well. But when I see Luggie’s big scared eyes, and his blood dripping, as he tries to get past Tuggs to reach me—because he wants to protect me—I feel bold all of a sudden. If I’m destined to die anyway, from cancer or as a sacrifice to the Star, I might as well go out fighting for someone I care about.
I glare at Tuggs, squinting so tightly he blurs between my eyelashes, and I take a purposeful step in his direction. He doesn’t move, so I keep walking. Luggie tells me to stop, but I don’t. I put my hand in my pocket and feel for the largest glass shard, all that is left of the dagger Olen gave me on the Millia’s beach.
Tuggs reaches out to me slowly, without words. I wasn’t expecting that. The gesture is not hostile. I freeze. With one finger he flicks crumbs from my shirt. Oh no. He knows! Tuggs turns and I gra
b him and slice his upper arm with the glass. He doesn’t flinch. He rips the glass from my fingers and shatters it against the wall of the cell. I try to bowl him over, but he is solid. I let out all the things I want to say, and the noises scare even me, but Tuggs just shoves me down. The cell door slams shut.
Oh no, what have I done? I didn’t help Luggie! I may have inadvertently killed him!
Chapter 37
“My brother was too young. Barely a youth.” Nameris beats his chest with a clenched fist. “He hadn’t yet found his partner in this life.”
“Maybe in the next,” Ardenal offers. The lingering effect of the Banji had burnt off during the ceremony.
The Maiden addresses the brothers. “Your parents will be proud of your courage, Azkar, Nameris, and Kameelo. They will not blame you. I will explain upon our return.”
“If we return,” Nameris grumbles under his breath.
“I’m sorry about Eek,” Ardenal says. “But I have faith—”
“Maybe it is easy for you to have faith because you were once as stupid as these.” Nameris gestures to the humans. “How many of my brothers must die to fulfill your desires? Let’s get on with meeting Rolace so he can rip our limbs from our bodies.”
As the sun sets, the trees glow in the moonlight, which casts ominous crooked shadows across the earth. The company travels with care, as each branch and bush scratches at their legs and arms, and snags in their hair. The hoots and caws have been replaced with hisses and clicks. The company speaks in whispers. Nate carries a sleeping Tessa, exhausted though still plagued in dream by the Banji within her grasp. The Olearons lead ever onward with their light.
“I think it’s time you told me the full story, son,” says Archie, who matches Ardenal’s pace. The Olearon carries a sleeping Duggie-Sky, keeping the child warm in the chill night air.
“Zeno had told me I needed someone from his world to travel with me to Jarr-Wya.”
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