Penult

by A. Sparrow

  The lowland roots proved extraordinarily malleable. Sword in hand, I easily stirred them into place, aligning and tightening them into a column that approximated the girth of the cracker I was using as a model. I unwrapped more bundles and stirred them into the structure, lengthening it until it was about twenty feet long.

  Once I had myself a pillar of about the right size, I went to work on the surface texture and internal structure, adding a pebbly grain, dividing the fibers, hollowing them out, twisting them around each other the way they were inside the column the Singularity showed us.

  I was mighty pleased with how my work was going until Olivier came over and tried to lift it.

  He strained to get it off the ground.

  “Whoa! This is like ten times as heavy as the real one. No was a bug is going to be able to carry this.”

  I sighed. “I can work on making them lighter. This was just a start.”

  “Yeah, sure. Keep at it, kid. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  But once I broke my train of thought, my progress slowed. I thinned up the walls of each tube and removed a bunch of weight. I carved deep indentations at the juncture of each segment, but couldn’t figure out how to make them rotate without screwing up the central core. The column looked pretty realistic if you didn’t get too close, but this was about the best I was going to be able to do.

  Olivier stayed by the entrance, mingling with the guards and monitoring the progress of the battle raging outside. It was hard to tell what was going on through the thick forest, but from the way the mantid riders in the treetops kept retreating in an ever wider arc, it sure looked like the enemy had established a beachhead.

  “Jimmy boy, we might need to clear out of here real soon. I’m not liking the looks of things out there.”

  I tried lifting the copy. It was much lighter than wood now and raised up easily off the ground.

  “I’m almost done, I think. Got one replica made, anyhow. Light enough for a bug to carry. Can probably shed a few more pounds if I work at it.”

  “Any chance we can get it to generate some rootquakes?”

  I looked at him like he was nuts. “Nah. No way. The knobs are just for show. The segments don’t even turn.”

  Olivier tried to hide his disappointment, but I could see it in his eyes and the set of his jaw. His insistence that our only goal was to make a replica had been a ploy. He had just wanted to put me at ease and relax me enough to get me over whatever mental block was keeping me from getting the job done.

  “Alright kiddo. Why don’t you grab yourself a saddle and go see Urszula. She’s right outside with her bugs. She’s been waiting on you all this time. Meanwhile, I’ll arrange to get this transported up top. Take care ,though. There’s Cherubs in those woods.”

  Chapter 47: Bones

  Olivier called down to a unit of Duster warriors being held in reserve in the clearing.

  “Yo! Can I get some volunteers up here? We got a cracker here we need to get up to the plaza.”

  “Why don’t you get a bug to carry it?” I said.

  “What bug? Every mantid they can spare is battling Cherubs on the rim.”

  “There’s always … the dragonflies.”

  I heard Urszula call out from outside the entrance. “Is he finish?”

  “Looks that way,” said Olivier.

  “Tell him to find another saddle and bring it.”

  I scrambled off the floor and went over to the wall where they stored dragonfly saddles salvaged from fallen riders. Someone had swept up the grit that had crumbled off the ceiling of the grotto and dusted off the saddles. The cleaning only made their blood stains more apparent.

  This time I chose one of the larger ones. It looked a little cushier than the others, with extra handholds and storage compartments. It was a little frayed at the corners, but that could be remedied with a little weaving. They were basically padded benches were meant to be straddled like motorcycle seats. The insects they were designed for were too broad to straddle.

  When I pushed through the curtains that sealed the entrance, the sudden surge of bright natural light stung my eyes. I found Urszula loitering just outside. She popped to her feet and smiled broadly when she spotted me lugging the saddle.

  Lalibela and Tigger were skimming over the cloud forest, hunting leafhoppers scared up by unseen patrols beneath the canopy. Urszula let out a piercing shriek and both dragonflies came winging back to the clearing.

  Urszula grimaced when she saw my saddle.

  “What is this? A seat for some fat man? This is no warrior’s saddle.”

  “What can I say? It looked comfy.”

  Odd pinnacles of stone sporadically pierced the cloud forest, many manned by lookouts. Lalibela hovered over one just outside the clearing.

  “Come.” She picked her way down the rubble-strewn path and made her way across the clearing to the pinnacle.

  She pointed to a puzzled Frelsian manning the precipice.

  “You. Leave.”

  Lalibela alighted the moment the sentry left, digging her claws into the crumbly stone. Urszula skipped nimbly up the ledges and hauled herself onto Lalibela’s back. One slap of her heels and Lalibela lifted off.

  “Now you! Trigger come!”

  She clapped and Tigger took Lalibela’s place atop the pinnacle. I stared up at his stripy wings, amazed.

  “What you waiting for? Saddle him, you fool.”

  I clambered up the pitted rock, my bare feet slipping on the loose gravel, grabbing loops of thick vine to help me ascend. Once I reached the top, I approached Tigger from behind and heaved the saddle onto his back. The dragonfly reacted, beating his wings, threatening to flee before another shriek from Urszula made him stay put.

  “The straps! Tie the straps quick!”

  I crawled between Tigger’s forest of legs and beneath his thorax to fasten the first cinch. Once it was in place, it held together by some kind of nano-velcro. They tightened themselves securely, like shrink wrap under a heat gun.

  “Watch the wings! No block the wings!”

  “I’m … trying,” I said, through gritted teeth.

  There were three sets. I pulled them all tight, and crawled out from under. Tigger wheeled around to face me, touching his mouthparts to my head and shoulder, tasting me, feeling me.

  “Good boy!” said Urszula. “Now come!” She shrieked again and before I got myself secure in the saddle, Tigger launched himself like a rocket nearly tossing me off the precipice. Luckily, the fat man’s handholds saved me and I managed to hang on.

  “Watch me,” called Urszula, flying Lalibela directly below Tigger. “Watch my hands and feet. It is how you tell him how to go. Just do what I do!” she shouted. “Trigger learns fast. He is a smart one.”

  She jabbed both heels against the top of Lalibela’s shell and the dragonfly dropped like a stone.

  Tigger, playing monkey see, monkey do, was already dropping and following after Lalibela before I could even react. I stomped my feet anyway, figuring the beast might make an association between my signal and the action I requested.

  We fluttered all around the cloud forest, passing close to the cordon of mantid riders fending off the Cherubim who had established themselves. I was astonished to see how many bodies had accumulated on the ledges. And yet they kept on coming up the cliff face.

  “Too close!” shouted Urszula, as Lalibela dipped down to cut us off. “Watch out the slingers!”

  A hail of stones came hurtling in our direction. Tigger again reacted before I could kick, responding to his own instincts for self-preservation. We easily outraced the projectiles, cruising back to the clearing below the grotto. Under Olivier’s supervision, the Dusters had hauled my replica column halfway up the undamaged stairway. A work crew was already attempting to repair the damaged section of the stairs.

  Urszula motioned for us to return to the upper terrace and we followed her and Lalibela back up the cliffs and over the city to the meadow above the main plaza. The
skinny saddle I had picked out the other day was still sitting there in the grass, but I planned to keep the one I had. Fat man saddle or not, all the extra handholds made me feel secure.

  When we landed, Urszula hopped off and came over.

  “Not bad for first flying but he is still following Lalibela mostly. Did you try for show him where to go?”

  “Um. Kind of. Not exactly. He kind of did his own thing.”

  She sighed. “Well, at least he didn’t try to dump you like the other poor fellow.”

  “What other poor fellow?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I had a friend try to ride him yesterday when you were busy. No worry. He will be okay. Bones can be fix.”

  “Bones? You know could have told me.”

  I climbed off the saddle and hopped down onto the grass.

  “If I tell you, you too scare to fly him, no?” She shrugged and walked back to her dragonfly. “So tomorrow … we go.”

  Chapter 48: John

  I blinked at Urszula, my nerves surging and waffling between anxiety and excitement.

  “So it’s decided? We’re going? Tomorrow? For sure?”

  “That is Yaqob’s wish,” said Urszula, as she unstrapped Lalibela’s saddle. “Zhang wants to wait some more time. He think somehow a truce still possible. I don’t see how. He send emissary. But the War Council is meeting again at sunset. We should both be there.”

  I didn’t know how to take this news. It would be good to get out from under this siege and off this mountain. The Cherubim were getting way too close for comfort. But I had friends at risk in New Axum. Family. Bern and Lille. Karla. Maybe even my mom.

  For once, being a Hemisoul seemed a detriment instead of an easy escape from unpleasant responsibilities. For once, I wanted to be here when the big stuff went down.

  “You know, it’s been a while. What if I fade?”

  Urszula shrugged. “No way to predict or prevent. If we go, there is nothing to be done. Whoever of us is here, will go. If I am not here. You take Lalibela. Leave Tigger behind for me. She easier to fly.”

  “Sheesh. I wasn’t counting on doing this on my own.”

  “We will not be alone. We will have Yaqob and Olivier. The scouts. Some others. It is not left up to us. But you should realize, once we leave, maybe we don’t come back. There may be no New Axum to return to here. I am not happy about what we saw on the lower terrace. The Cherubim make too much pressure. Our fighters cannot hold out for much longer. And once they have the cloud forest they will take this city easily.”

  “Are there any plans to evacuate?”

  “Not official. But some are already leaving,” said Urszula. “But it is a long trail to the marshes. Very exposed to attack. If everyone goes they will be harry, every step of the way. The loss will be big.”

  “The marshes can’t possibly hold all of these people.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Where else is there to go? Everywhere else is desert or ruins.” She pursed her lips. “There are hills around the bog. Maybe some can go there.”

  “What about … underground?”

  “Of course. There is always that. Back to the Reapers we go. Not too many will be happy about that. But maybe there is no choice. Maybe this is the end of life on the surface. Or maybe we go back to the Deeps?”

  She shared a smile that bore equal parts mischief and grief.

  I was thinking I had to warn Bern and Lille right there and then. Maybe if they got a head start they would have a better chance of reaching the next refuge unharmed. The problem was, I had no idea where to find them. I hadn’t seen them we arrived in New Axum.

  “I go now,” said Urszula. “Come back here once the sun is down. Yaqob needs you there. We need you. You need to have your say.”

  ***

  For hours I wandered through every nook and cranny of New Axum searching for Bern and Lille. I plunged deep in to the Warren, turning corners at random, not caring how lost I got as long as I kept covering new territory. All those calm and cheerful faces puzzled me. So few realized or cared how close they were to being slaughtered by the Cherubim and their overlords currently driving our fighters back across the lower terrace.

  I have to admit, I kept my eyes open for Karla too, but somehow I was not as eager to find her. Something had shifted inside me. The warmth and thrill that thoughts of her used to inspire me had dwindled and cooled like the embers in an untended fireplace.

  The blue sun hung low in the sky, but still had plenty of room to drop when I crossed over the wide lane that bisected New Axum into the ruined eastern sector where most of the newest refugees had settled because that was all that was left. So many able bodies here, I wondered why not all of them had mobilized to fight the siege. Did they not realize what was happening? Had nobody bothered to tell them?

  A young man with wild and frizzy hair hopped through a window and ran straight up to me. He held out his hand for me to shake. I was taken aback because I did not recognize him.

  “James! Do you not remember me? The name’s John. I was with you guys on the long march. Remember? When we brought the Seraph here?”

  The man looked only vaguely familiar but I pretended to know him.

  “Oh. Hey! I’ve been looking for you guys! Is Bern here with you? Bern and Lille?”

  “Bern. Oh no, they’re settling up in the heights past the plaza. Near the gardens.”

  Of course, that made sense. Those two liked their privacy. They were never the type to settle near a crowd, expect for Frelsi where they had no choice. Bern, in particular, liked to have himself a modicum of elbow room.

  “Can you … show me?”

  “Of course,” said John. He wheeled around and started up the lane. “Follow me.”

  ***

  This time, my friends had no quaint, little cabin, no pastel-painted cottage with a porch suitable for hosting tea with guests. They didn’t even own a teapot. I found Bern and Lille huddled under a sheet of canvas suspended from the branches of a tree with feathery leaves.

  They were deep in conversation when I found them and when they saw me, only Bern rose up to greet me. Lille just stared at me all red-eyed, her face streaked with tears.

  “Hey guys! Uh. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so sorry you have to see me in this state James,” sobbed Lille.

  “We’ve just gotten a bit of bad news from the other side,” said Bern. “Lille’s doctors are planning to take her off the respirator. It seems she filed a living will not to be kept alive by artificial means. In her few lucid moments she has tried to rescind it, to no avail. One of her family members has appealed the decision, but it seems she might have only days left.”

  “You guys are both still Hemisouls?”

  “Yes. Which would mean, of course, that Lille is about to be yanked out of this existence. Off to the Deeps, most likely.”

  “Jeez! That sucks. But … maybe there’s something we can do.”

  “Like what? Go back to Frelsi? What’s left of it? As if we could even make it there intact. Is there even a mountain anymore?”

  “There are other mountains.”

  “Bah. These hills we see are all too low, too close to the core. There is no way for a soul to get free.”

  “But … what about … flying?”

  He squinted at me.

  “Flying?”

  “Yeah, sure. I mean, you don’t have to be standing on the ground to be free of the core, right? You just need to be up high enough. It’s like … gravity … for souls. I have my own dragonfly now. I could take Lille up when the time comes.”

  “They actually gave you a bug?”

  “Yeah. His name’s Tigger. He’s a bit wild still, but he’s coming around.”

  “The thing is,” said Lille. “I would need to be up high enough at the precise moment the deed is done, when they pull my plug and my heart ceases. And there is no way of knowing that from here. One can feel it happening, the transition, they say. But I rarely fade anymore, and whe
n I do, I’m not always conscious. It was pure luck I was able to overhear the doctors speaking with my nieces. The event could be as soon as two days from now, or it could be weeks, depending on how the judge rules.”

  “Shit. I’m not gonna be here tomorrow. We’re kind of launching a raid.”

  “What about those wings?” said John.

  “What wings?”

  “The ones you made.”

  “Wings? Holy shit. The Seraph wings! You guys can use those! When you feel it happening just put them on and fly up as high as you can get. And when it happens, you’ll be a Freesoul.”

  “Me? Fly?” said Lille. “But I don’t know how to fly.”

  “You don’t need to. It’s as easy as chewing gum. And besides, you have some time. You’ll have time to practice.”

  Lille and Bern looked at each other in amazement, their faces aglow with love and hope.

  “Hang on! I’ll be right back.

  Chapter 49: Retreat

  I ran down the central lane as fast as my legs could carry me with John keeping pace at my heels. We found the promenade in chaos. Casualties from the fighting on the lower terrace were sprawled all along the rim, being triaged by flesh weavers. Some of the wounds we saw were truly—horrible: bashed in faces, shattered limbs with bones poking out.

  In the living realm, these souls would be screaming in pain, but things were different here in the Liminality. A body could withstand unfathomable beating and keep on ticking. Pain was an afterthought.

  Soldiers blocked the stairway. Work parties were busy bolstering the retaining walls along the rim with stone scavenged from ruined buildings.

  We tried squeezing through a gap in the wall but a guard held me back.

  “You don’t want to go down there mate. The Pennies are kicking our ass down there. We’re about to evacuate whoever’s left.”

  “But we need to get to the armory.”