The rest of the leaf armada swirled about, creating chaos. Hissing and flailing, tortured by the silver fruit, the thorny plant didn’t see Sam come up from behind. Sam reached out his emerald arm. With his second-skin, he gripped one of the large thorns and plucked it out with a firm pull.
Instead of ejecting the barbs deep into Sam’s abdomen or whipping him with its tentacles, the plant shriveled up and folded in on itself. As it slipped under the earth, the hissing grew in pitch, like a teakettle getting too hot, and eventually sizzled out when the plant disappeared.
Glissandro stopped playing the ear-shattering noise, and thankfully the smell left with the plant. Daphne stopped influencing the leaves and they all fluttered back up into the trees.
“I got it!” Sam shouted as the leaves drifted away. His heart thumped hard in his chest and he felt that old comforting feeling of victory. It was the first time in Atlas Crown that he had truly felt at ease.
Having the large thorn in his hand made him nearly burst with pride. The plan, his plan, had worked.
But just like at the game, the shouts and cheers weren’t forthcoming.
He looked at the others’ mournful faces.
“Look!” Sam waved the thorn. “I got it!”
“Yeah,” Petir scoffed, “but now we have to search the whole forest.”
“But I got it! Right here!”
“Good job, Sam.” Zawadi smiled, though her tone was a tad dampened.
Sam felt the bubble of pride deflate. “Is there something that I’m not getting here? The plan worked. You all were great!”
“Thank you, Sam, it was a fine plan.” Zawadi bit her lip. “You were great as well.”
“It was a great plan!” Cassiella interjected, though it looked like her smile was forced.
Sam arched his eyebrows. “Then what’s the problem?”
Daphne sighed. “The problem is, one thorn isn’t enough to study.”
“It’s a start.” Cassiella forced her smile even wider.
Sam examined the thorn. “So, let’s go find the plant again.”
“You don’t know anything,” Petir huffed. “It’s going to take days to find it again. And even then, we know you can’t touch it or you’ll send it away. Why don’t you leave the plans to us, flathand?”
Zawadi’s mouth hung open in shock. “Petir!”
Daphne was about to say something, but Sam cut her off. “Fine. You all can do it yourselves.” He threw the thorn into the ground, where it stuck like a flagpole. “I’m out of here.”
He looked around but couldn’t see any of the pillars past the dense brush. Glissandro motioned with his head to the right, and he and Sam stormed off toward the city.
***
The Tembrath Elite stood just feet outside of the borders of Atlas Crown.
Jintin reached out a finger, which crumpled on itself as it touched the invisible barrier.
“This thing cannot hold us.” Jintin prodded the air again. “We should just break through and ransack the place. I’ve been working on this new drape where—”
Vigtor silenced him with a wave. “Did you forget about the Mystics?”
“They probably wouldn’t notice,” Jintin retorted. “They’re so isolated up there that they wouldn’t even feel it.”
Vigtor clenched his teeth. “But Bariv would.”
Jintin thought for a moment. “Bariv is one bird in an otherwise deserted sky.”
Vigtor smirked. “When did you get so elegant in your speech?”
Jintin’s proud expression showed that he hadn’t caught the subtle insult.
“Besides,” Vigtor ran a finger against the barrier, “I wouldn’t call this place deserted. Even the clearest sky could just mean that the bigger birds are waiting on the ground. You know what the Mystics can do.”
Jintin’s expression darkened. “Let them try.”
Vigtor looked straight into Jintin’s eyes. “You are a fool.”
Sage pounded her fist against the barrier. “I can’t believe we are actually stooping to this.”
Saria took her sister’s hand. “We all started as beginners, too.”
“Yeah, but him?”
Erimos put a hand on each of their shoulders. “He has done something that hasn’t been done in a very long time.”
Sage’s eyes narrowed. “But that doesn’t mean that he’s qualified to join us.”
“We need him.” Erimos stared her down. “So yes, it does.”
“Everyone move aside and let me begin,” Vigtor said. “I’m going to need space and silence.”
“How do we know they won’t detect this?” Crom’s tone was skeptical, as usual.
“When I was here,” Vigtor pushed them back further, “I came across one. No one realized it was there except me. I studied it for months, and eventually I was able to re-create it.”
Sage took a moment to step back. “Will it work?”
Vigtor placed his second-skin against the invisible barrier. “It might take some time, but yes.”
“But who will stay with it?”
Vigtor didn’t hesitate. “Jintin.”
“Me?” A nervous look crossed Jintin’s face. “Why?”
“Because it seems that you are unafraid of the Mystics, and if this plan doesn’t work in time, then we do your plan.”
Jintin immediately regained his composure. “If it doesn’t work, I’ve been planning this grip where—”
Crom mumbled something.
Vigtor’s head snapped up. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Waste of time,” Crom boomed.
Vigtor’s face darkened. “If you have a better plan to get the boy to come out, then by all means, enlighten us.”
Crom’s nostrils flared. “The boy is a waste of time.”
“I’m growing impatient with your attitude. You know, in all likelihood, the boy will have enough access to Her that he can replace you as final. Either stop wasting my time with your foolish insecurities, or we will toss you out.”
Crom’s face grew murderous. “You try it without me and I’ll cut off your—”
“No need for threats.” Erimos’ voice carried through the air like smoke. “Let us begin.”
“Clear a space,” Vigtor commanded.
As the rest of his group backed away—Crom moving away with sullen slowness—Vigtor began his drape. Balancing wind in a vacuum was a tricky weave, and even for most natural sorcerers it would have been nearly impossible to do, but for Vigtor, it was like riding a bike—a swirling, black, vacuous bike.
After a few arduous minutes, it was there before them. With a circumference just big enough for a body, it was the perfect size for trapping. Vigtor had created a tunnel which would bring someone under the protective border. It currently sucked air in, and Vigtor added the finishing touch by crushing and tossing in a few kolo buds—which would bring someone faster than a jelly-hive brings a grotlon. He waited a few moments for the kolo to pass through, and then with a few powerful passes of his second-skin, the air changed directions and began to blow out.
Sage peered over the edge, her hair getting flung by the wind. “Why can’t we just go through it?”
“Because the most powerful protections—the ones against us—are still in place. We still can’t get in, but they can most definitely get out.”
Sage cackled.
“Stop that,” Crom snapped.
The darkness twisted with the air, making a black vortex in the ground. The daylight did nothing to illuminate the inside of the tunnel. They couldn’t see the opposite end, either, but it was out there somewhere, waiting to catch its prey.
Vigtor handed Jintin the envelope.
“Signal us when it happens. When someone comes through, the vacuum will be on this side, so watch where you step. I trust you can handle this?”
Jintin placed the envelope in the pocket of his robe. “Yes.”
“Good.” Vigtor moved close, his mouth just inches from Jintin’s ear. “You’d bett
er,” he whispered, “because if you don’t, you’re going final next time… and I don’t think you want that.”
Jintin gulped.
CHAPTER 17
After about half an hour of walking in silence, Sam and Glissandro were back in
the heart of Atlas Crown. Since Sam had only seen a small portion of Atlas Crown so far—and that was mostly the forest—Glissandro assured him that he hadn’t really had the chance to understand the extent of the wonders they kept guarded inside the walls. In fact, Glissandro told him, it would be a long time before Sam could really grasp what their town was truly like.
In an attempt to lift Sam’s spirits, Glissandro brought him to a restaurant unlike any food establishment Sam had ever been to. It was essentially a huge water slide down a long hill. Along a smooth, stone channel, water flowed on a continuous loop, just like the river. As the guests slid down the hill, waiters threw refreshments into their oncoming mouths. Sam watched as happy children and adults alike took the ride with relish. It was hot out and the line for the restaurant was long, but moving quickly. After the descent, Sam watched the people magically dry their clothes, although some children left themselves saturated.
“I still don’t understand how this place doesn’t use money,” Sam said as they took their place at the back of the restaurant line. In front of them, a man hummed a simple tune. He had a second-skin on each hand, one white and one black. “Why work at all if everything is given to you?”
“Everything is not given to you,” Glissandro played, shaking his head. “If you don’t contribute to the community, then the community will not give back. Take this place, for example. This group contributes what they love. For this season, they run this food-slide, which they’ve been doing since I was a kid, and for the winter they’ll do something different—I’m hoping for stew-skating. Since the Veil allows us to do what we want, it’s not really working, but it’s still contributing. That’s the sad thing about the outside world, the fact that most people don’t get that luxury.”
“How do you know that?”
Glissandro smiled. “I’ve spent time there.”
“What?” Sam’s voice cracked in surprise. “Where?”
“Alaska,” Glissandro played a simple pip.
“Alaska? Why?”
Glissandro traced the gold inlay on his horn with a finger, and after a moment brought it to his lips. “Because there are places in the outside world with magic, too.”
“I haven’t seen any.”
Glissandro looked off into the distance with a wistful smile. “I went to see the Aurora Borealis.”
Sam repressed a chuckle. “That’s not magic.”
Glissandro played an innocent slur. “Why not?”
“Because… it’s just light hitting the clouds in a funny way, or something like that.”
Glissandro gave him a blank stare for a moment. “Are you sure?”
Sam thought about it, but couldn’t remember if he had actually learned that in class, or if he’d made it up. “I guess not.”
Glissandro played something that sounded like ambient whines. “I was under the impression that solar wind excites the atoms, which emit light when they return to a ground state.”
Sam gave Glissandro a skeptical look. “How in the world do you know that?”
A thin wisp of a smile appeared on Glissandro’s face. “Just because I can’t talk doesn’t mean I don’t listen.”
Sam conceded with a sharp nod. “Fair enough.”
“I took in everything I could learn when I was on the outside.”
The man in front of them turned around. His close-cropped hair was flecked with grey. “I was born in Puerto Rico, you know. There’s magic there as well. There’s a whole bay that lights up like there are blue fireflies under the water.”
“Oh, sorry,” Glissandro played, “this is our head grower, Fernando of the Ojowakeepsawej clan.”
Fernando lifted his second-skins and compressed the air in front of his chest. “Ojo for short.”
Sam stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Fernando gave his hand a quick shake, but his eyes lingered on Sam’s second-skin. “Nice to meet you, too…?”
“Sam, Sam Lock.”
Fernando’s eyebrows drew together. “I don’t think I’m familiar with the Lock clan. Which community are you visiting from?”
“He’s from the outside,” Glissandro played.
Fernando’s eyes widened. “Are you the boy that the Tem—” He cut himself off. “The football player?”
Sam pulled the collar of his robe down, revealing the top of his jersey. “That’s right.”
Sweat formed on the man’s head that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
“Welcome, Sam.” His eyes darted around wildly. “I—well—you see…” He shaded his eyes and looked up at the sun. “Oh, I totally forgot, I have somewhere to be. Head grower duties and all. Stop by my tower whenever you like; we’ll make a meal out of it.” He dashed out of line and scurried off.
Sam sniffed his shirt for residual odors.
Glissandro shrugged. “Have you ever seen the Aurora Borealis?”
Sam shook his head.
“The swirling lights, the performances.” He played softer. “Don’t tell anyone this, because we’re not supposed to use the Veil on the outside unless it’s an emergency, but the light played along to my music. I asked it to dance and it did—all night.”
Sam slapped a hand on Glissandro’s shoulder. “That’s cool, but it’s not magic.”
“Of course it is.”
Sam wiggled the fingers under his second-skin. “The Veil is magic.”
Glissandro shuffled to the edge of the slide. He looked back at Sam with a simple smile and dropped down into the water. When Sam followed, the server tossed him a tight ball of liquid that broke apart in his mouth as a smoothie that tasted of mangoes and coconuts. After that, Glissandro dried Sam off with a powerful trio of notes and took him to the library.
It wasn’t the stuffy, neglected place Sam was expecting.
The library itself was a tower that spiraled its way skyward, almost as high as the pillars, but it was made entirely out of books. The only part of the tower that wasn’t books was the ramp inside.
“The ramp’s floor has writing on it, too,” Glissandro played. “And the books are all protected with drapes. You can only pull them out with a grip, but you can do so from the ground. This way, the wind doesn’t destroy anything.”
Several citizens approached the base of the library, paused for a moment, and then books would jiggle their way out of the tower and into their hands. They all smiled at Sam as they passed and some even exchanged pleasant greetings, but still, no one seemed all that interested in getting to know him.
“Writing is a highly prized skill in Atlas Crown,” Glissandro explained. “Sometime in their lives, everyone strives to add something to the library. The newer books are placed at the top, and the older books can be found deep within the earth—the viewable portion of the library is just the tip of the iceberg.” Glissandro pointed out the hole from which the underground books emerged. “The library has so many books that the passage down reaches all the way to the center of the earth. The oldest book at the bottom was not even written by human hands, but by the Veil Herself. Down in the dark depths, there are books describing—in detail—how the Veil draped Herself across the whole world as a gift for everyone to use. Also, the books on darker magic are kept far below. If you go down far enough, you might even come across a chinoo reading one. But don’t join in reading with them, or you might become one. Or at least that’s what my clan mother used to tell me.”
Sam tried to pull out a book near the bottom of the tower, but it wouldn’t budge. Glissandro played a birdsong melody, and the book popped out and landed in Sam’s hands. He opened to the first page, but the book was written in a language he didn’t recognize. “What’s a chinoo?”
“A chinoo,” Glissandro pla
yed, “is a made-up creature that the elders talk about to keep children from pursuing evil grips. To do wicked grips, you have to reach far into the Veil, much deeper than if you are using Her for good. The story goes that, a while back, some children became fascinated with evil grips. Despite the love their parents bestowed upon them, the children kept reaching deeper and deeper to use the Veil for gradually worse things. Eventually, they reached so far in that their souls fell past Her and they left their bodies behind. They were then doomed to walk the earth soulless, which of course leads to horrible physical deformities.”
“Like what?”
“It’s just a fairy tale.” Glissandro touched each finger to his thumb. “Playing of, you’re in for a treat later tonight.”
“What?”
“You’ll see. It’s worth the surprise.”
Sam tried to put the book back into the empty slot, but it felt like it was already filled. He looked over at Glissandro, rolling his eyes.
Glissandro played the book back into the tower.
Sam prodded the book, which didn’t budge. “So, what’s next?”
“Are we done with the library?”
“I’m not a big reader.”
Glissandro thought for a moment. “Want to see the bird zoo? No reading involved.”
Sam shrugged. “Why not?”
Glissandro’s mouth curled. “We tend not to write on the animals.”
“No, I meant—” Sam laughed and dismissed it with a wave. “Real funny. The bird zoo sounds good to me.”
Glissandro led the way back through town.
“Does everyone spend time on the outside?” Sam asked as they strolled through the stands.
Glissandro shook his head.
“So why did you go?”
“Sometimes, when people struggle here, they go live on the outside or with another magical community for a while. I’ve done it; Petir’s done it, and a lot of other people our age, too. Most of the time they come back. Except a certain few.”
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