by E A Comiskey
Finally, I dared to glance at my companions. Hala's jaw was set. With his shoulders squared and his spine rigid, he left us there and disappeared into the trees. My heart ached at the thought that I’d done something to hurt him.
Risa squatted in front of me and stroked the animal's coarse fur. "You have no way to feed him," she said.
I thought about that for a moment before reaching into my pack a second time and pulling out a slice of dried meat. I chewed it until it was practically liquid in my mouth before spitting it into my cupped hand. With one finger I scooped a bit up and put it on the pup's tongue. He shook his head, hard, at the unfamiliar taste. I did it again. By the third time, he lapped at my finger greedily. I couldn't hold in the laughter that bubbled up at his overzealousness.
When he was done eating, he curled against my stomach and laid his sleepy head on little paws.
Hala was gone. I couldn't see him. I chewed my lower lip. "He hasn't left us, has he? I didn't mean to make him so angry."
"Of course he hasn't left us. We are family. That bond is strong enough to survive disagreements far more difficult than this." She perched on the rock next to me and studied the trees above us for a moment before continuing. "For most of his life, Hala's first priority was to care for the people of the city where we lived. When a dangerous situation arose, he…"
She gazed toward the river for a long time. Just as I wondered if she would go on, she looked at me again, a sad smile gracing her features. "He did what he thought was best. He honestly believed he was doing what was right, but people died. A lot of people. The city fell apart. What you saw… that's only a remnant. It was an immense, thriving place, not so long ago."
"It seemed immense and thriving to me," I told her.
"I suppose it's all relative. Donovan tells us stories of crowds so thick they were difficult to travel through in the time of his childhood." She paused again. "Hala isn't angry with you. He's embarrassed. Frustrated, maybe. Disappointed in himself. He thought he'd grown after what happened but, once again, when he quickly determined that death was a good and merciful solution, he was shown that life could be preserved with a little effort."
"His motives were pure," I said.
"Yes, but his greatest fear is that, because of his heritage, there is something dark and broken inside him."
I drew comfort from the soft, warm creature sleeping on my legs. I thought of what Donovan told me the night he gave me the gloves. "There is something dark and broken in all of us."
Risa looked to the river once more. I suspected she knew exactly what I meant.
Nine
We walked every day, in the sun and in the spring rain. Hala spoke little, but he was up early each morning and waiting for Risa and me to gather our belongings. We trailed along behind him, his long legs breaking a trail through the tall grasses. Days blurred into one another, drawing memories of endless nights drenched in blood. I woke with nightmares every night until Risa told me to sleep closer to them. She curled behind me, one hand on my hip. My back was protected. Wolf snuggled against my stomach, warm and solid. I knew Hala slept, but I rarely saw him do it. While I drifted off, he kept watch over our little camp. When I woke, he was getting ready to leave.
"You're very driven," I said one morning after wiping the sleep from my eyes.
He shook his head. "Not driven. Called. I can feel it, Jax. I can feel our new place, calling to me."
In the distance, something gleamed in the sunlight. I pointed at it as Risa stirred and rose from her place next to me.
Hala looked. "That must be the city of Chicago. Those are towers," he said. "Well, the ruin of towers. My mother lived there for a time. It was a center of trade, then. There was a harbor and transportation that went to anywhere this side of the ocean. There were humans who frolicked with creatures like us, of mixed blood. She said that, even back then, the buildings were like a forest that closed in around her, though those towers that pierce the clouds were built years after her time there. She didn't stay long. She loved wide-open spaces."
"It is bigger than your city?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Right now my city consists of two pretty girls and a mangy dog."
I held his gaze, even as my cheeks blushed at being teased.
"Chicago is a ruin," he said. "After the Great Battle there was plague. The population was destroyed in the big cities. Those who survived burned the buildings to try to kill the virus. Everyone dispersed. When it was all said and done, there were so few humans it seemed a wonder that their race should survive."
"The buildings stand, though," I stated the obvious. "And after such a long time."
He shrugged. "You saw the tower I had built. Glass and steel are strong, but if you get close you see it's just a skeleton, ready to fall in a strong storm some day. If anyone dwells in that city now, their feet are on the earth. I doubt there is anyone there, though. Ten million people, struck down, will leave a haunting presence."
The number staggered me. "Ten million? Are there so many on the earth?"
"I don't know. There are those like us. The demons who sought to destroy human kind did not succeed, and yet… they changed things. They set something in motion that has yet to be fully played out, I think. Even after all this time."
Risa tapped my arm to get my attention. "You should change the subject. Don't get him started on big cities, and towers, and the destiny of humankind. He'll waste the day going on about it and then be grouchy because we didn't get ten miles under our feet." She stood and left to take care of her morning business.
Hala watched her go, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “I believe the first settlement we come upon will be the one Donovan’s mother founded before the Great Battle. It is known as 'The Compound,' because that’s how she referred to it, though it’s a thriving village now, with a powerful matriarchy who have done well with the sciences. They developed the healing balancer we used for your frostbite, as well as several other things that have made life easier.”
As we traveled, I tried to imagine a place ruled by women, alone. In my home, the men had dominated by brute strength. Only those women who could compete with them physically could dream of having any kind of power.
Something about the way Hala described this “Compound” made me think of a village ruled by women like Puah. They’d have pretty streets, lined with neat rows of flowers. Every home would have a pie cooling on the windowsill, and the children would climb trees and laugh fearlessly. When we came upon a wide, smooth road, we knew we were close. It was a jolt the next day when we rounded a bend and saw a city in ruins. Houses were crushed, and debris littered the road. We drew nearer and found little groups of people hauling bricks and clutter away in buckets. Children squatted in the shadows, watching us with wide eyes.
Hala strode toward the men working nearest to us but, before we’d gone a few steps, he stopped in his tracks. I looked for an explanation, following his gaze to a woman on a rooftop. A long-barreled gun pointed at us.
I missed the first part of what Hala said, but saw the second half of his sentence on his lips. “…here, but this woman is my wife.”
The woman must have shouted something else, but she was too far away for me to see.
“I am the child of Atsheena, friend to Simone Fitzgerald," Hala said. "This place was my mother's home. We mean no harm to anyone here."
A warmth, like a beam of sun falling on exposed skin through a windowpane, touched me. My spirit relaxed into it.
The woman on the roof lowered her weapon as someone else approached. The tallest, most beautiful woman I’d ever seen jogged toward us.
A slow smile spread across Hala's face. "Freyja."
The woman’s thick golden braid hung over her shoulder, nearly touching her waist. Her blue eyes, despite being the color of a clear winter sky, sparkled with warmth. They crinkled at the corners as though she'd laughed so much for so long, no other expression would fit her face. Something about her manner reminded me of Donovan
.
"By The King of Kings, it is good to see you, my friend." She opened her arms wide and embraced him. He held her tight for a long time. When she stepped back, a single tear spilled from his fiery green eye, leaving me astonished. Who could this woman be, to evoke such a response?
She turned to Risa and, with no words, held her as well. Risa clung to her as a hurting child would cleave to its mother, and that extraordinary peaceful warmth intensified, breaking over me like a wave. The earth tilted strangely under my feet. A giggle burst out of me, though there was nothing funny at all about the situation. I felt silly and light. I leaned against Hala for support, and he put a strong arm around me. What a fabulous feeling. It would be impossible to fall if only Hala could hold me like this forever.
The rumble of his voice inside the broad expanse of his chest tickled my ear, and I laughed again. Then the woman stood in front of me.
She spoke to me with her hands and not her lips. "It is a pleasure to meet the friend of my friends. I am Freyja."
"You're so beautiful," I said.
Her smile could bring light to the northern winter. "Thank you."After taking my hands in hers and examining my gloves she said, "These are a wonder! Let me guess. Donovan Fitzgerald knew a guy."
"How did you know?"
"I have known Donovan a very long time. He's resourceful."
Wolf's head stuck out of the carrier I'd fashioned for him. She stroked his fur. "Your baby?" she asked with a grin.
I laughed. "I adopted him."
"He will be a good companion for you."
Sun sparkled off her braid as though actual strands of gold were woven into it. With an unsteady hand, I reached out and ran a single finger along the plait. Again, Hala's voice rumbled. I realized his body was pressed very near to mine and found nothing but pleasure in the thought.
The warmth receded from me the tiniest bit. In its absence, I found I no longer needed Hala's steadying arm, and I pulled away. "Is that you?" I asked Freyja. "Are you causing the warmth?"
"Yes. I'm sorry if it was too much. My friends are hurting. I sought to bring comfort. Are you well?" Again, she said all this with her hands, forming no words upon her mouth.
"I am fine. It is an extraordinary Gift."
"I sense extraordinary Gifts in you, as well," she said.
With a bit of space between us, I could see Hala's face when he spoke. "What happened here?" He asked.
Her magical smile melted into sadness. "With the humans, there is always war. Simone found a new way, but we strayed from her path, didn't we? Humans and others--we all failed to stay the course. History repeats, Hala. A message is given, headed, forgotten… there is nothing new under the sun."
His eyes roamed the devastation before us. "The Fae did this?"
Freyja glanced at Risa before answering. "Yes. They attacked without warning. It was well-planned and well-executed. They moved as only trained soldiers can. This city lost a great deal, including their leader and her eldest two daughters."
Risa's eyes narrowed. "The Fae wouldn't attack without reason."
A corner of Freyja's mouth twitched up, but there was no joy in the smile. "One creature's reason for war is another's story of success. Come. I will tell you the story, but this is not the place."
"Tell us later. We would help the people of this place if we can," Hala said.
She nodded. "Your mother would have said the same thing. If that is the way you'd have it, you can put your packs over there. The street must be cleared for the carriers before the great work of repairing or tearing down what has been damaged can be done."
By the end of the day, the road was clear and my hands were bleeding. The men and women we'd worked with spoke little. They carried out the task before them with downcast eyes. I understood their relentless pace. If they poured enough of their energy into this physical task, there would be no chance for crushing sorrow to overwhelm them.
Hala stayed near Risa. They worked alone, everyone from the village giving her a wide berth. Several times I caught people glaring at her, and I knew we couldn't stay here. Hala's Gift radiated from him. I felt it, everywhere I went. Surely these others felt it as well. With Freyja's powerful, calming influence, it was difficult to imagine the level of distrust here. Risa was not safe in this place.
As the last few bricks were carried away by a group of young boys, the woman who'd pointed the gun at us approached me. "I saw you looking at your hands. Are you injured?"
I shook my head. I'd tucked my gloves in my pocket, loathe to damage them with this kind of work.
Tendrils of her dark hair hung around her face. When we'd come in, I'd thought she was older than me, a leader in this place. Now I saw she couldn't have been out of her teen years yet.
"May I see?" the young woman asked.
I held them out to her. What a strange thing, to take satisfaction in the sting of open blisters. It made me feel strong. I'd worked hard and earned the pain.
She looked over my palm for a moment before taking a flat glass plate with metal edges from her pocket and holding it over the damaged skin. A flash of blue light popped out of the device, and the skin on my hand was healed. What had been damaged remained only as a bit of dryness to be sloughed away. Astonishing! The tiny bit of glass must have been the same technology as the moon-shaped machine Puah had used to cure my frostbite. In the north, my people were murdering for scraps of bread and crude knives, while in this place machines with the powers of gods were being built.
Missing my voice, I pulled my gloves over my restored flesh.
"Thank you," I told her. She nodded and started to walk away but stopped and turned back to me. Her eyes sought out Risa, who stood at Hala's side near the house where we'd left our packs. "You seem nice enough. You worked hard today, and I watched you coddle that puppy. Be careful of that one." She nodded toward Risa. "The Fae can't be trusted. They crave their own ends and will go to any length to achieve them. You should not make alliances with them."
My arm twitched with the desire to hit her. It was the first truly violent impulse I'd had in a long time. It felt savage and powerful, and it fed a part of me that had kept me alive for a long time. Forcing my body to be still was a battle in itself. "Risa took me in when I was alone. She trusted me, when I'd done nothing to earn her trust. She gave me a family when I was orphaned. My heart serves her for all she has done and for who she is. If you have a quarrel with her, you have a quarrel with me." I gritted my teeth. "Thank you for healing my hands," I said before stalking away to join my friends.
Hala looked up at my approach. "Freyja told me where to find her. She'll have food. You must be famished. Come on."
Wolf lay on the ground, his chin on my pack, watching the happenings around him. I slung the pack over my shoulders and lifted him. When we passed the woman who had healed me, I kept my eyes fixed on Hala's back, but I could not help the anger that boiled in my heart.
~*~
We walked on the edge of the street. Carriers -- similar to the transports we were familiar with, except that they hovered just above the earth -- passed us, carrying loads of rubble out and supplies in. The village wasn't large, just a handful of long, low buildings organized into a neat square. Solar panels reflected the orange and pink sunset, lending a soft evening light to the world. Everywhere, there were signs of battle. The buildings, once painted white, were streaked with smoke and grime. Between them we caught glimpses of the piles of rubble that had been carried away. At the end of one path a burial ground sported rows of crosses. At least a dozen mounds of freshly turned earth could be seen, even from where we walked. It was a massive loss. Maybe ten percent of the tiny population.
Did they have stores? A healing center? A library? They must, but it was impossible to know where these things were. Nothing was marked. I saw the genius in that. An unfamiliar enemy couldn't attack with precision. Something like a worship center would scream, "gathering place." For someone like my father, it was a bullseye on a target.
We passed a lovely statue of carved marble: a woman, back-to-back with an angel, their hands lifted as if in praise, his wings shielding her on either side. Moss grew around the base of it and in the sharp corners. The features of those depicted had been softened by time and the elements. To mortals, rock seemed eternal, but here was evidence that not even stone lasted forever. The statue had stood for a long time, and would stand for a long time to come, but someday it would fade to dust.
We found Freyja in a little camp of tents. The smell of roasting meat rose up from a central fire, and my stomach growled in anticipation. The goddess saw us and waved us over. "I spoke with Zoe. She is leader here now. She's agreed to let you stay, but you'd be best off at the perimeter of the group. I'm sorry, Risa. You know I love you, and I trust you, but these others don't know you as I do."
A muscle twitched in Hala's jaw.
Risa nodded. "I understand. They've been through a great deal."
Freyja glanced up and motioned to someone to join us. "This is Zoe, Administrator of The Compound."
A child of no more than ten or eleven years strode toward us with strong, sure steps. Her cropped hair framed her perfectly symmetrical oval face. Her little jaw was set. Blue eyes scanned our group, stormy and beautiful as a cloud-covered sky. They fell on Risa and stayed there, even as Freyja spoke once more.
"Zoe, these are friends of mine. Hala's mother was Simone Fitzgerald's dearest friend, and one of mine as well. I was there when he was born." Her eyes ran slowly down the length of Hala's strong body and back up again. "That was a long time ago," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching once more. "This is Risa, his life-match, and this is their good friend, Jax."
Zoe stared into Risa's eyes. Finally, lifting her chin a fraction, she spoke. "Your people slaughtered my family today. My mother and father, my sisters, even my baby brother lie rotting in the grave now because of the Fae."