by David Meyer
The light faded.
It happened quickly, shifting from excruciating to merely blinding to just really bright in a matter of seconds. Emboldened, he cracked his eyelids open.
The light continued to fade, getting dimmer by the second. From way up there, at the top of the gate, he could see for miles. To his surprise, the light originated from a very familiar place.
Natica? he thought.
It kept fading until it was just a tiny speck of brightness. Then it zoomed forth, with epic speed and startling precision. Heading southeast, it crossed miles of desert in less than a second.
The light hit something. The air exploded and sand spiraled upward into the sky. A brutal gust of wind raged outward from the detonation point, flattening the hinterlands for a half-mile in every direction.
At last, the light vanished. The wind died out and the spiraling sand flopped back to the ground. All that remained of the strange event was a distant crater, one that shimmered gently in the sunlight.
What was that? he wondered.
Chapter 32
“Did you see that?” Cutter, mouth agape, stood next to a large boulder. Holding refuge in a thin sliver of shadow, he stared across the bleak landscape. “It looked like one of those fireballs from Dargon’s tank.”
Lima nodded. “But a billion times brighter.”
Titus shot a quick glimpse backward, checking the Shell. The light was gone, but he saw spots of brightness everywhere he looked. Frowning, he closed his eyelids, gave them a good rubbing. When he reopened them, the brightness was still there, but there wasn’t as much of it.
He looked again. To his relief, the door was still closed. His dagger was still embedded in the hinge-side crack.
Turning around, he faced the Naticans. Holed up in every possible scrap of shade, they stared out at the hinterlands, at the crater.
“Whatever that was, it came from home,” said Telm Chowder, one of the wind farmers.
“Nothing at home could do that,” Apion replied.
“What about Miot?” Cutter asked. “Maybe the Luminites are running some kind of experiment.”
Frowning, Titus recalled the satellite dish. Last he knew, Sorney and the others, directed by Virdo, had been working on it. Had they finished construction? Was that bright light the result of their efforts?
For a moment, he studied the Naticans. Stubbels’ people huddled in one area. The relatives stood in another one. The two sides barely looked at one another. At least they were no longer fighting.
Indeed, Dargon’s appearance, coupled with the strange light, had brought about a temporary ceasefire. Titus intended to take advantage of it.
“Listen up.” Faces swiveled toward him and he searched them carefully. Once again, there was no sign of his friends. “Has anyone seen Sanza, Podey, or Private Stanner?”
Heads shook.
“Sanza?” He lifted his voice to a shout. “Podey? Private Stanner?”
Nobody answered.
A few Naticans started to look around. Some of them even started for the gate.
“Wait,” he said.
They halted. Everyone looked at him.
He furrowed his brow, choosing between two bad options. He didn’t want to leave without his friends. At the same time, he couldn’t wait around any longer. For now, he’d just have to hope they’d already retreated from the peak.
“It’s okay,” he said at last. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
Angry voices ripped into his ears. Turning back to the Naticans, he saw Stubbels, freshly-bandaged, pointing at the relatives.
“This is your fault, bloodfiends,” he said. “You told Dargon where to find us.”
Cutter gave him an icy look. “And how’d we do that, Rohor? Telepathy?”
“By setting this whole thing up. You planned to come here, knowing we’d follow you.”
“We didn’t plan anything,” Lima retorted. “We only left because your goons killed Virda.”
He bristled with indignation. “You’ve got that backward. She killed them to avoid interrogation.”
“Do you know how stupid you sound right now?”
He went for his sword.
So did everyone else.
“Stop.” Titus ran out, planting himself between the two groups. His gaze went to Stubbels. “You heard what Dargon said. Nobody tipped him off. He followed us here.”
“He was lying,” Stubbels replied.
“If Cutter wanted you dead, you’d be dead. He could’ve killed you the moment you passed out. Instead, he carried you to the gate, then hauled you over it.”
“That’s right,” Cutter shouted.
Stubbels glared at the man.
“I don’t expect any of you to be friends,” he called out, turning in a circle so everyone could see him. “But we need each other if we’re going to survive this.”
Nods came from all directions. From Cutter and the now-awake Yerdon. From Apion and Guster. Stubbels didn’t nod. But he didn’t turn away either.
“War is inevitable. But this isn’t the place for it. We’re still at odds with each other. Plus, the Banished outnumber us.” Titus took a quick drink from his canteen. The water soothed his aching throat. “So, we’re going to return to Natica as quickly as possible. Once we’re reunited with the rest of our people, we’ll fight. But only then. Am I understood?”
Heads bobbed
“Good.” He exhaled. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter 33
What made that light? Titus thought. The satellite dish? If so, why? Was it connecting to something?
As he puzzled over the phenomena, the sun beat down upon him, attacking him with heat and blistering rays of sunshine. But its efforts were diminished by the fact that it was now late afternoon.
As he rounded a bend, he glanced backward, saw the small army trailing him. Relatives walked with relatives. Stubbels’ people, meanwhile, stuck to each other. The two sides regarded each other with mutual animosity. Would that ever fade? Or would it linger on, infecting even future generations?
Despite the split, the makeshift army made good time, traversing the mountain with relative ease. They kept up the pace all the way to the bottom. At last, Titus stepped off of the road. His sandaled feet sank into the hot, soft sand.
Grimacing, he took a few steps, getting used to the footing. In the process, he took a fleeting look at the crater. A thick column of gray smoke floated out of it, marring the otherwise clear, blue sky.
He twisted in a circle. His eyes flicked up the mountain, then to either side of it, searching for his friends. But he didn’t see them.
His gaze halted on the rock outcropping, the hollowed-out area topped by the stone overhang. A long shadow stretched outward and he gave it a wistful look.
The day’s events, coupled with fear and adrenaline, had left him sweaty and dehydrated. Even worse, he knew he wouldn’t experience respite until nightfall.
A dull shout flooded his ears.
Stanner? he thought.
For a moment, he forgot about the heat. Head on a swivel, he turned toward the mountain.
“Get … from … coming …” The speaker sounded like Podey. Unfortunately, he couldn’t hear all of her words.
The enormous mountain played tricks on his ears. Still, he felt pretty sure the voices had come from its southwest face. Turning slightly, he lifted his chin. His gaze swept across the rocks and boulders.
And that’s when he saw her.
Sanza stood upon a short ledge, roughly halfway up the mountain. Her body was curled into a crouch. Nearby, a boulder maintained a precarious balance.
What was she doing? Squinting, he saw a thick sheen of sweat upon her legs. Her body was coiled up, her arms trembled from great effort.
“She’s trying to dislodge that rock,” Cutter said.
“She’s gone mad,” Guster added.
Indeed, there was no doubt about it. Sanza was shoving the boulder with all of her might. What did she hope to acco
mplish? Was she trying to send it down the mountainside?
Apion pointed ahead. “If that boulder falls, it’ll crash into that outcropping.”
“Yeah, but first it’ll plough through a dozen other boulders.” Cutter jabbed his finger at various spots along the mountainside. “They’ll come loose and fall, hitting still more boulders. And of course, those ones will strike still other ones. Just guessing here, but I wouldn’t be surprised if at least a quarter of them came this way.”
Her look turned anxious. “Oh, wow.”
Titus didn’t know much about the mountain. Before today, it was just something to be admired from a distance. But listening to Cutter, he knew the reverse-engineer was correct. In a matter of moments, those heavy rocks could turn the foot of the mountain into a graveyard.
“Get back,” he yelled.
Leading the army, he retreated a safe distance. Sliding to a halt, he spun around. His gaze went to the mountain, to Sanza.
This time, he saw she wasn’t alone. Podey and Stanner were there, too. Podey had her back up against the boulder. Her feet kicked at the ground as she tried to force the rock loose. Meanwhile, Stanner stood on the other side of Podey, his feet balanced on a slab. Arms extended, he shoved his full weight against the boulder.
Titus furrowed his brow. The only way their actions made sense was if they were trying to bury Dargon in rocks. But he and the Banished were still back at the peak.
“Look.” Vola, her face ashen, aimed a quivering finger at the outcropping. “Over there.”
Titus’ eyes went wide as he saw the outcropping’s shadow begin to shift. Seconds later, figures began to stream out of the hollow.
“It’s the Banished.” Yerdon, supported by Cutter and Lima, cleared his throat. “But how’d they get down so fast?”
He studied the area once again. This time, he realized the truth. It wasn’t just an outcropping.
It was an entryway.
It covered a hollowed-out space, which clearly extended deep into the mountain. He could only guess at what lay inside. But he suspected staircases or ramps, leading all the way to the Shell.
Swiftly, he fit puzzle pieces together. Dargon had followed Stubbels to the mountain. Scouting around, he’d discovered the outcropping. Entering the hollowed-out space, he’d made his way to the peak.
Sanza, Podey, and Stanner had seen him coming. While hiding from Stubbels, they’d watched Dargon enter the rock outcropping. Realizing he was likely to exit the way he’d entered, they came upon the idea of starting a chain-reaction, showering him and the Banished with rocks.
With a loud crunch, the boulder came loose. True to Cutter’s prediction, it swiftly bumped into other boulders, jarring them. They started to fall as well, colliding with rocks of all shapes and sizes.
The sound of crunching rock grew deafening. Meanwhile, a vast cloak of dust and auburn sand shot into the air.
Dargon hustled out from under the outcropping. He took one look at the falling rocks, then screamed something unintelligible. Immediately, other people flooded out of the hollow. Setting an eastern course, they raced across the sand.
A series of giant stones thundered down the southwest face. Their size and speed shocked Titus. “Run.” Twisting around, he waved his hands. “And don’t stop!”
The Naticans were only too happy to oblige. Sticking to their groups, they retreated a good distance from the towering landform.
The first few boulders reached the foot of the mountain. They kept right on going, rolling and shooting across the sand. Ferocious rumbles struck the earth.
Titus fell into a heap. Glancing back, he looked for the mountain. But debris choked the air, limiting his visibility.
A few minutes later, the sand and dust began to thin. Peering through the haze, Titus saw boulders strewn about the base.
Shifting his gaze to the outcropping, he saw it was gone, crunched under fallen rock. He strained to see even farther, to catch a glimpse of people. But he didn’t see anyone.
Where was Dargon? The Banished? Had they survived the boulders?
He couldn’t be sure. But the last time he’d seen them, they were heading away from Natica. At the very least, Sanza and the others had bought him time. Time to get home. Time to rally his people.
Smaller rocks continued to fall and slide down the steep slopes, but at a slower pace. The remaining debris settled down and Titus maneuvered his gaze up the mountainside. He spotted the ledge. It looked so different now, free of the boulder.
He searched for his friends. Before long, he spotted three cloaked figures, about thirty feet above the ledge. They were bent down, huddled together, their gazes turned away from their handiwork.
Finally, the figures stood up and peeled off their face coverings. Podey and Stanner started to work their way over to the old road. Sanza, meanwhile, wiped an arm across her forehead. Her gaze flitted down the mountainside before finally settling on Titus.
She’d always been statuesque. But right then, bathed in sunshine and surrounded by glimmering grains of airborne sand, she looked positively radiant.
She stared into his eyes for a long moment. Then her lips shifted into a little grin. “How’d you like the show?” she mouthed.
He still didn’t fully understand the sequence of events. Didn’t really matter. What mattered was that he wasn’t going to go easy on her.
His expression shifted into a smirk as he mouthed his response. “I’ve seen better.”
Chapter 34
Sanza put her hands on her hips. Arching an annoyed eyebrow, she gave him a haughty look.
He, of course, continued to smirk at her, milking the moment for all it was worth.
Abruptly, she shifted eastward. Her irritation melted away. Alarm filled her features and she spun back to face him. “They’re coming,” she mouthed.
“How long do we have?”
“Ten minutes? Twenty?”
“You’d better hurry then.”
She shook her head. “We won’t make it in time.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
She adopted a playful look. “What’s wrong? You worried about me?”
“You know how it is.” He shrugged. “A leader has to look out for everyone. Even the grunts.”
She glared at him. Then she glanced east. “Just go,” she mouthed. “We’ll catch up.”
He nodded. “See you soon.”
Turning away from her, he hurried toward his people. They chattered loudly, making wild gestures, recounting every second of the falling rocks.
“Quiet, everyone,” he announced.
The chatter stopped. A whole bunch of faces, looking rather relieved, swiveled his way.
“The Banished survived,” he began.
The relief disappeared. Once again, a somber mood took over his makeshift army.
“Our plan remains the same. We head to Natica.” He paused. “We’ve got a long march ahead of us so stick together, help each other.”
Twisting westward, he took a moment to sight out their path. Then he started hiking at a decent clip.
Occasionally, he shot a glimpse backward, checking the ranks. Stubbels’ supporters and the relatives kept their distance from each other. They didn’t fight, but he sensed the vast rift between them. It wouldn’t close up overnight. Maybe it’d never close up.
His gaze fell upon the crater. It looked gigantic, even from a distance. Looking closely, he caught a hint of gold debris swirling within its borders.
Is that a sandswarm? he wondered.
A shrill whistle rang out. Titus glanced back, saw a couple of Naticans jabbering and pointing. He followed their fingers to the foot of the mountain, to the enormous collection of rocks gathered there. His gaze traced the boulders, their grooves, their shadows.
He froze.
Tiny figures stepped out from the dark shadows. It was Dargon and the Banished. They’d cleared through the rocks even faster than he’d expected.
He fell out of line, be
ckoning others to march past him. “Faster,” he told everyone. “We’ve got to stay ahead of them.”
He kept his gaze focused on his brother. More figures stepped out of the shadows, joining the man. Before long, Dargon took his place at the front. With a shout, he started walking, leading them … southeast?
Titus frowned. If he could see Dargon then surely, Dargon could see him. So, why was the man giving up his pursuit? Where was he going?
Carefully, he traced Dargon’s projected pathway across the hinterlands. His eyes fell upon the crater.
He’s going there? he thought. But why?
Chapter 35
Titus shifted his body underneath the soft sand. Peering into the growing darkness, he watched Dargon tentatively approach the crater.
You’re not the only one who can spy on people, he thought, staring at his brother.
He shifted again. His weight felt slightly different than he remembered it. It took him a second to recall what had happened.
Darn it. He grimaced. I liked that dagger.
His dagger, of course, was gone. He’d used it back at the Shell to jam the door shut.
Exhaling an annoyed sigh, he massaged his neck and winced. His mouth felt dry, his throat was positively arid. He tried to work up a little saliva with no success. Desperately, he fished a canteen out of his cloak. He uncorked it, lifted it to his lips. The remaining water, a few drips, washed into his mouth. He swirled them around his jaw, wetting his gums. Then he choked them down.
In less than a second, his mouth felt dry again. His throat felt even more arid than before. Under different circumstances, he might’ve pulled out another canteen, taken a few more sips. But he’d given the vast majority of his water, along with all of his rascos, to his people. Now, he was plumb out of supplies. He’d just have to hope his body had enough energy left for the return trip.
Recorking the canteen, he peered over his shoulder. One good piece of news was that he could no longer see his army. He’d split off from them awhile back. As per his orders, they’d continued onward toward Natica, eventually disappearing into the landscape.