by Jodi Meadows
The meeting where they’d kicked me out of Heart. “They had the temple books and research with them.”
“Exactly. It seems to me they must have been fetching something important from that room, like books or research. Maybe even the key. Unfortunately, that scanner is programmed to let only Councilors through that door.”
“Fortunately,” Sam said, his tone a smile, “we have you.”
“You do.” It sounded like she was grinning. “No one on the Council ever realized I always leave myself a secondary entry code for every building in Heart. I guess—” She stumbled over the words. “I guess they never will now.”
Grief twisted in my chest, and I couldn’t respond. Sine’s attitude toward me had changed once she became Speaker, but she’d still been more a friend than not.
Was there anyone left who would publicly oppose Deborl after what he’d done? Anyone who might be brave enough to stand up to him—Sarit and Armande excepted—was going with us tonight.
Stef was quiet for a while. She’d been very selective about the people she’d invited to the library earlier. She’d probably left behind some of her friends, because she wasn’t sure she could trust them.
Stef had chosen. She’d chosen me.
Humbled, I followed all the way to the market field, keeping an eye out for anyone. But the way was clear, and I heard nothing but the wind. Snow smothered sounds, making the world unearthly still. Templelight reflected off the snow; the market field was bright.
“Try not to think about it,” Sam murmured.
“Think about what?” I huddled inside my layers of wool and silk. My hood blocked my peripheral vision; I could see only straight ahead.
“The risks and consequences. Where we’re going after. Just focus on getting through this.”
I opened my mouth to argue that I hadn’t been worried about this part, but reconsidered. Though the research and books had belonged to me before Deborl took them, reclaiming them now still felt a little like stealing.
“So I take it you’ve broken into a lot of private archive rooms?” I asked.
Snow quieted his reply, keeping it from carrying. “I admit to nothing, except that Stef is a bad influence.”
I snorted. “You can’t fool me. I know better than to assume it’s all Stef corrupting you.”
“But you know her well enough to realize that most of the trouble I’ve gotten into is her fault, right?” He flashed me a look of boyish innocence.
“Right, of course.” I kept my tone dubious, though conceded the point. Without Stef dragging Sam into trouble, he probably would stay at home, composing and practicing all day.
Now that I thought about it, Sam definitely attracted a type.
Stef pouted. “You two are going to ruin my good name.”
“Oh, it was ruined a long time ago.” Sam grinned and gave her a sideways hug.
We scanned the bright area once more before taking off at a trot, crossing the cobblestone market field. Our footfalls suddenly seemed so loud.
But no one caught us, and soon Sam dragged open the library door and ushered me inside after Stef. She had a pistol out.
The library was dim and quiet. I strained my ears but couldn’t hear anything suspicious. No floorboards creaking. No hiss of clothes that didn’t belong. Just the three of us.
We crept through the long hallway. It was unlikely anyone was working this late, but who knew about Deborl’s people.
What if Deborl had gotten to the research and books already?
Worries nipped at my heels as we traveled through the quiet hall.
“This is it.” Stef pulled a screwdriver from her pocket and used it to pry open the soul-scanner cover. “Give me just a second.” She replaced the screwdriver and removed a slender cord, which she connected to her SED and a port inside the scanner. After a moment of shifting functions, she tapped the SED screen and the scanner beeped. The door unlocked.
“Nice job.” Sam pulled the door open before it locked again.
“I know.” She shut the scanner and breezed into the room. I followed, and the lights turned on as the door swung closed behind us.
Rows of cupboards filled the rectangular room, hundreds of them. There wasn’t even room for a table, just counters along the perimeter.
“Let’s get started.” I strode to the far end and began opening cupboards. Some were empty, but most had old documents or artifacts stored in vacuum-sealed glass boxes. “What is this?” I pointed at a stick with a feather tied to one end. “An arrow?” I’d seen drawings of them, but no one used those things anymore. Laser pistols were far less messy when it came to killing from a distance.
“Some of our earliest inventions, or things we found in the area when we first settled.” Stef shrugged. “It’s all useless junk now, but the Council is determined to keep it.”
“Because Whit and Orrin are determined to keep it,” Sam said. “At first they stored those things in the library where everyone could look at them, but a few people never understood the point of sealing them to slow the decay, so the containers kept getting opened. Orrin had them moved here.”
“Ah.” I thought it was nice they’d kept these things. It would have been nicer if I’d had time to look through everything, but since I was in a hurry, I simply tried to take in as many details as I could while sifting through piles of stuff. At last, I opened a door to find a stack of familiar leather spines and a large envelope filled with notebooks and diaries. “Here’s everything.”
Well, almost everything. As I slid the items across the counter to Sam and Stef, I didn’t see the key to the temple.
“Have you seen the key anywhere else?” I asked, checking the cupboard below and beside the one where I’d found the books, but it wasn’t there.
We looked around for a while longer, until finally Stef said, “We have to go. Whit and the others are ready.”
I didn’t like leaving the key behind, not that it would do us any good outside of Range. But if we had it, that would mean Deborl didn’t.
Sam shrugged on the backpack, and we left the room.
We moved through the halls as quickly as possible. Outside, the layer of snow on the ground shone with templelight, and the air glowed misty white. We headed around the side of the Councilhouse and rounded the immense temple. Having a vehicle wait for us at the Councilhouse would have been faster, but would draw attention. Deborl would surely notice. As long as we were sneaky, we could reach the guard station without incident.
Light still blazed from the white temple, so unnaturally bright ever since the Year of Souls began. It made me itch all over.
By the time we reached the guard station, a large building tucked into the city wall, I was shivering with cold and damp.
Stef pulled open the door, letting a rectangle of light fall onto the snowy road, and a figure emerged from around the corner of the building.
A blue beam of light shot toward us.
“Watch out!” I shoved Stef inside the guard station and hurried to follow, but the stink of singed wool chased me. The laser had been aimed at my head.
Sam grabbed my wrist and dragged me inside.
The shooter stepped into the light.
Deborl.
7
COMPASSION
I SLAMMED THE door, locked the bolt, and spun around to find everyone gathered around ten black vehicles. “It’s Deborl.” My voice shook, but the words rang throughout the brightly lit guard station.
Stef swore and turned to the crowd. “Get ready to open the gate, but don’t leave until we know it’s safe. He could have shooters on the roof.”
People rushed into action as something thumped on the city-side door. Shouts rang throughout the guard station, orders and cries for help. The newsouls wailed at the sudden commotion.
Stef shoved a laser pistol into my hand. “Shoot anyone who comes through that door.” She grabbed Sam’s elbow and dragged him deeper into the guard station.
I clutched the pistol i
n both hands, staring at the rattling door for a few agonizing minutes before I realized there was no one there to shoot. Not unless I wanted to burn holes in the wood. Hands trembling, I shoved the pistol into my coat pocket and searched for something to block the door with. A desk or chair. Anything.
But guard stations were sparsely furnished. There was an armory—no doubt raided already by Whit and Orrin—and a stable for horses. Nothing useful there, but—
“We can block the door with bales of hay.” There were at least five other people by this door. We didn’t all need to be here. I turned to Aril, who stood near me. “Will you help?”
She looked up. “Bales of hay? Good idea.” She grabbed Thleen—a wildlife expert I’d only recently met—and we ran through a short, dark passageway and into the stables.
“Careful,” Thleen said. “There’s another entrance on the far side, where they let horses out to exercise.”
We slowed to a walk, listening as we came to a long row of stables. The din of our friends was behind us now. Ahead, there were only the sounds of horses snorting, shuffling hay around their stalls, and lapping water. The stables smelled warm and earthy, and a little like sweat.
“Bales are kept up there.” Aril motioned to a rickety staircase leading to a loft. Bits of hay floated down, but there was no wind, so why—
“Watch out!” I grabbed her arm and dragged her back into the passageway just as blue light flashed and a hole sizzled in the wall to my left.
Strangers appeared in the hayloft above the hall, lasers aimed. A handful leapt down to the floor level and shot toward the guard station.
My companions fired their weapons. Between shots, Thleen shoved me into a shallow alcove. My elbow slammed against the wooden wall, aching, and I looked up just in time to see her double over and clutch her leg.
But we weren’t alone. Our people rushed through the passageway, firing pistols. Horses screamed, and the odor of burning wood filled the area. Both sides collided, all wild and chaotic.
“Ana!” Sam’s voice rang above the cacophony. “Ana!”
I squeezed through the fighting, searching for Sam, but when I found my way back into the guard station, another group of Deborl’s people surged into the main chamber. Blue targeting lights lit the room. Glass exploded in one of the vehicles, and screams crescendoed.
I shouldn’t have left my post. Stef had put me by the door, and I’d left.
“There you are.” Deborl’s voice pierced the noise as he appeared in front of me, his laser aimed at my forehead. He was small, only my size and barely a year past his first quindec. He still had spindly arms and legs he hadn’t quite grown into, and though he might have been attractive in an awkward way, his glare and cruel smile destroyed that. “Nosoul.”
If I raised my pistol, he’d shoot. He’d shoot anyway. Words tumbled out of me. “We’re just trying to get out of Heart, okay? You win. You can have the city. Newsouls are leaving.”
He took two long strides and shoved me against the wall, his free hand around my throat. The edges of my vision fogged as I struggled to breathe, and my pistol slipped from my fingers. “I will kill every one of you,” he said. His pistol pressed against my shoulder. “You’re no threat to Janan. You aren’t. But you’re an annoyance to me.”
First Meuric, now Deborl. Janan’s Hallows needed so badly to convince themselves of my unimportance.
I jerked my knee up, between his legs. He stumbled backward, and the blue light from the pistol flashed. I gasped for breath as I dropped, fingers grasping for my pistol.
Beyond Deborl, the fighting had shifted, mostly in the passageway now, with my friends bottlenecked. They had us outnumbered, but we seemed to be winning anyway.
I gripped my pistol and stood just as Deborl righted himself, too. His face was still contorted with pain, and in his haste to stagger away from me, he’d dropped his pistol.
Pulse aching in my throat, I leveled my pistol at him and ordered myself to shoot.
Someone screamed near the exit.
Sam called my name again.
Deborl’s people began to back off, though I couldn’t understand why.
“Shoot,” I whispered to myself. My hands shook on the pistol, and as Deborl recovered, he gave a long, slow smile, like he knew I was hoping someone else would come and save me from this choice. Stef shot people. Sam had, too. Why couldn’t they come do this?
The blue targeting light flared from my pistol. I had only to press the button the rest of the way down.
Deborl reached for his weapon. I shifted my aim and shot his pistol before he could grab it. It spun for a moment, then burst into flames. Scraps of metal flew up, into Deborl’s hand. He screamed and clutched his bleeding, heat-singed hand to himself. Cursing, he called a retreat and his people began running for the exit.
Slowly, I advanced on him, holding my pistol steady for the first time. “Give me the temple key.”
He shifted away from the burning wreckage of his pistol. “I don’t have it.”
That was a lie. His coat had fallen open, revealing a slice of silver inside one of the interior pockets: the key. Maybe I couldn’t make myself shoot him, but I could kick him.
I rammed the toe of my boot into his ribs, and when he fell over, gasping, I snatched the key. With his good hand, though, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the floor. I tightened my grip on the key, but my pistol spun away.
Deborl jammed his thumb against my arm. Fire raced through me, and I screamed.
I struggled to pry myself away, and he grabbed the key back. We fought, shouting curses at each other, and just as I was ready to give up, a boot collided with Deborl’s head.
Sam hauled the former Councilor to his feet and retrieved the key. Fighting tears, I pressed my hand to my arm. I couldn’t remember getting hurt, but something must have happened.
Before Sam could shift the key and pistol around in his good hand, Deborl squirmed away and followed his friends out the door, never giving Sam a chance to shoot.
Sam dropped to the floor next to me, good hand tight over the temple key. “Ana.” He wrapped his arms around me as Deborl and his friends escaped, and our people filtered back into the guard station.
“Anid and Ariana?”
“They’re safe.” Sam’s words were warm on my neck.
Relief poured through me, and I clung to Sam. “I’m sorry,” I rasped. “I couldn’t do it.”
Two of ten vehicles had been damaged in the fight, so Orrin and Whit reorganized groups and supplies and removed the solar panels from the roofs to store inside other vehicles as backups. They’d need the extra electricity when they reached their destination.
Since Rin was the only medic in the group, she made quick evaluations of injuries, then had the most urgent cases helped into one vehicle, where she could treat them en route. Miraculously, no one had been killed, though someone had a broken leg, while another had been shot in the throat; the laser had cauterized the wound.
I climbed into one of the vehicles after Sam. I’d ridden in one just once that I could remember, and that had been when Meuric, Li, and a pair of guards came to arrest Sam after the rededication ceremony. That time, I’d been too angry to enjoy the luxury. This time, too much hurt, both my heart and my arm.
Stef drove. Orrin, Geral, and Ariana crowded in, too, and as the others pulled out of the guard station, we crept after them into the icy night.
Ariana cried, and Orrin and Geral could do nothing to console her. The rest of us cringed miserably as the wailing grew worse, rising every time the vehicle hit a bump—which was frequently. I slumped in my seat and sent a message to Sarit, letting her know that we’d made it out of Heart.
I wished we’d gotten a chance to say good-bye, but there’d been no time in all the last-minute rush to escape. I missed her already. Maybe we’d get to see each other again before Soul Night.
Sam helped me out of my coat, mindful of my injured arm, and applied burn cream. We had to put the bandage o
n together, since his left hand was immobile, thanks to Rin. Then we pulled a blanket over us. When he leaned against the door, I leaned against him.
“I didn’t even realize he shot me,” I whispered. “Not until he jammed his thumb into the burn.” The wound throbbed, almost consuming my thoughts. I preferred the pain. I’d very nearly never felt pain again.
Sam spoke into my hair. “Adrenaline does that.”
Outside, snow-covered trees slid past and mountains grew in the distance. I’d done a lot of walking in my life. From Purple Rose Cottage to Rangedge Lake to Sam’s cabin to Heart. Later, from Heart to Purple Rose Cottage to Menehem’s lab and back to Heart. I was used to journeys taking days.
Even though Stef kept complaining how slowly vehicles had to travel over the ice and uncertain road, this was so much faster than walking. It would have been luxurious if I weren’t an exile. If we weren’t fleeing for our lives.
We were all exiles.
I gazed out the window, looking through my reflection in the glass. In the north, illuminated by the templelight and silhouetted by starlight, I could just make out the dozens of obelisks beyond the city.
Templedark Memorial stood solemn and waiting, a silent testimony of our fragile existence. As much as I wanted to forget the days we spent in remembrance of darksouls, the sensations whirled up as we drove past. Wind in the trees, the scent of sulfur from nearby fumaroles, and the tolling of the bell rung seventy-two times. One peal for every darksoul.
Soon, Templedark Memorial faded from view. Trees huddled over us, and flakes of snow looked like tiny darts in the headlights. Beyond that, the whole world was very, very dark, and it seemed we were driving off the edge of it.
The baby fell asleep, and Geral and Orrin began speaking in low voices in the front. Sam held me in his left arm, injured hand resting on my hip, while he stroked my hair with his good hand. His touch was soothing, and finally we were getting away. We were alive.
“I couldn’t do it, Sam.”