by Zen DiPietro
“How would you know what she’s thinking?” he asked.
“I am a reader,” she answered. Her dry tone suggested he might be a little slow on the uptake. He found it annoying but he kept his expression neutral.
“I know you read tone of voice, body language, and all that.” Will waved a hand dismissively. “But what you just said, that was more than body language. The thing you said about her feeling childish. You can’t determine that by visual clues.”
Izzy Gin honed in on Will, and he was struck by the sensation that she was reading him. He resisted the urge to shift in his seat.
“I also hold advanced degrees in various disciplines that assist me in figuring people out,” she added.
Will hesitated, questioning his judgment. Perhaps she simply excelled at her profession. He just couldn’t shake the idea that something didn’t fit.
“But you’re right,” she told him, smiling. “I do have an edge on most readers. I’m empathic.”
He let out a breath, relieved that his sense had been validated. He did not suffer self-doubt well. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“I can’t read minds.” Her grin was almost infectious, but she was just irritating enough for him to resist. “Don’t worry. Where you hide your diary or what you did to your sister when you were twelve is your secret to keep. However,” she continued, “I can sense emotions from other people. I know if they feel guilt or anxiety or satisfaction. Combined with my other skills, it allows me to be very effective at my job.”
Will considered what she’d said, then considered what he’d said. “I’m sorry if I was rude. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Izzy Gin laughed. “You didn’t. I don’t advertise my empathy because it can make people uncomfortable or suspicious. But we’re working together, so really, it’s something you should know about me.”
“Okay. Good.” He was relieved that he hadn’t offended her. Though logically, he knew he shouldn’t be concerned about her comfort. She certainly didn’t try to avoid offending him. “How common is empathy? That’s caused by a gene mutation, right?”
“Yes! I am a mutant.” Izzy Gin lit with her particular brand of irreverent glee. “Research has proven that empathy comes from a random mutation in the gene that allows mana use. Instead of sensing the energy of mana, we sense the energy of human emotions. Weird, right? But the mutation is exceedingly rare. In fact, it’s so rare that I’ve never met another empath in person. I had the opportunity, a few times, but I didn’t really like the idea of someone poking around in my head, so I avoided the meeting.” Somehow, Will suspected she was laughing at him, though he had no evidence. Her personality continued to puzzle him.
Izzy Gin's revelation caused Will to reevaluate his team. The other four people in this group were a very talented manahi, an empathic reader, a shiv justice, and Ina Trewe’s nephew, who was a master archer and outdoorsman. Every one of them excelled in some special way. Each added something unique to their investigation. No doubt, that was why Magistrate had chosen them. But then, that made Will wonder how he fit into this group of remarkable people.
Mallie returned with the brandy and efficiently passed glasses around. Although the others seemed relaxed and satisfied, Will was distracted by the question he couldn’t answer.
Why am I here?
Will missed the mid-lats. Back there, a guy could walk almost anywhere he wanted to go, or take a brief monorail ride to someplace far away. Food was within arm’s reach nearly anywhere he went, and having enough water was never a concern. Clothing was a comfortable afterthought—a fashion choice rather than a means of self-protection. Apex changed all the rules.
Before Will’s team had left Pine the following morning, they’d re-equipped for the shift from Sub-Apex to Apex. Mallie and her interns had given them help, advice, and a lot of warnings. Tires had been changed out, supplies had been packed into the cart, and all five of them were now buried under thick layers of clothing from head to toe. Will had thought the coats and gloves they’d worn in Apex had been cumbersome, but he now felt like a walking bedroll.
He did not begrudge his mission. He reminded himself that he was proud, though bemused, that Magistrate Trewe had chosen him. Even so, the comforts of the mid-lats whispered in his ears as he watched the barren landscape roll by.
Arc now drove the other cart with Izzy Gin and the shiv, while Will drove the cart he shared with Luc. The manahi sat next to him in stony silence. It was terribly boring.
Will had expected them to continue visiting the mining towns of Sub-Apex, searching for information. But Luc had decided that they were better served by traveling into Apex and giving him a chance to search for an anomalous mana source. He’d reasoned that if no one in Sub-Apex had even a solid rumor to convey, then they might be looking in the wrong place.
They drove from daybreak to dusk and beyond. They stopped only briefly for those small necessities biological creatures require, and for Luc to replenish the carts’ power cells. At least that experience was somewhat interesting. Will had never seen a manahi harnessing mana and storing it into cells. Of course he was familiar with the small, fist-sized cubes, but he’d never seen a nearly-empty one’s charge indicator shift from cautionary orange to fully-charged green. To him, it was almost like magic.
Will saw no towns, no roads, and no signs of life other than his companions. Finally, just before darkness fell, they stopped.
“It’s too dangerous to drive in the dark. The ground isn’t as craggy as it was in Sub, but it’s gotten really uneven. These rock outcroppings and steep drops could get us killed in the dark.” Arc explained. “Better to set up camp and wait until the sun comes back around.”
As the wilderness guide, Arc had taken charge of their outfit. Luc’s expertise had stayed behind them in Sub-Apex. All of them were learning as they went at this point. Still, Will was glad to be able to rely on Arc’s wilderness skills.
Arc had shown them the most efficient means of setting up their tents and how best to keep warm. Their tents formed the four points of a square so that a ring of tinder at the center point could lend warmth to all of the tents. Of course, they’d brought a small generator that could also warm them, but it was only in case of emergency. Tinder was a much more efficient means of heat. Once they retired to sleep, Arc could adjust the chemical mix to create an exothermic reaction that would have no flames but still produce plenty of warmth. It wouldn’t be like sleeping in the mid-lats, but they wouldn’t freeze to death, either.
After the tents were set up, Arc drafted Will into helping him deploy a safety perimeter of sensors. Will was glad for the physical activity of setting up camp after sitting for so long, but after the sensors were in place and there was nothing left to do, his muscles still felt stiff.
“Why don’t you all relax for a bit? You can stretch your legs or lie down in your tents while I see to some dinner.” Arc suggested as he gathered supplies to start the fire.
Luc disappeared into his tent without protest, as did Izzy Gin. The shiv dropped a pack inside his tent, but did not go in there himself.
“I think I’ll take a walk,” Will told Arc. “I won’t be long. Just need to work out the kinks.”
Arc nodded with understanding. “Protect your skin and extremities and don’t go too far from camp. The ground right here is fairly even, but watch out for bumps. They could send you flying, in the dark.”
“I’ll take a mana lamp.” Will grabbed one out of the pack he’d left next to his tent and switched it on, adjusting the output to a focused, forward beam.
“Food will be ready in about twenty minutes. Don’t expect anything too fancy.” Arc shook his finger at Will.
He appreciated the levity. “Anything would be great, at this point.” It had been several hours since they stopped for a quick lunch at midday and Will’s stomach was letti
ng him know it.
To his surprise, the shiv fell into step beside him just as he got beyond the square of tents. Will hadn’t spent any time alone with the justice to this point, and still wasn’t quite sure how to interact with someone who didn’t speak. He settled into a brisk stride, which the shiv matched. He pointed the light at the ground ahead of them so they could watch their step. The beam gave them about four feet of view before the utter darkness of Apex swallowed it up.
Assured that they would not break their necks, Will’s thoughts shifted to the justice, and his order. If, as a kid, Will had known that one day he would grow up and go on an adventure with a shiv, his little boy self probably would have screamed with excitement right up until he turned eighteen.
“I considered becoming a shiv when I was young,” he offered, as much to himself as to his companion. A slight head tilt acknowledged him.
“When I realized it wasn’t all fighting and weapons, but a whole lot of self-sacrifice and discipline, I knew I could never do it. I just wanted to fight, and to lead the fighting.” Will fell silent. When no one talked back, it was easy to ramble.
“Pardon me. That was a really foolish thing to say.” Will sighed. Could he be a bigger idiot? He’d just told a shiv he didn’t like discipline because it was hard. He wanted to kick his own ass just then, for being such a moron. To his surprise, he felt a light pat on his shoulder. He focused on the shiv’s eyes, which were quite kind, really.
“Thanks.” The sting of his mortification eased.
The brisk stroll helped loosen Will’s travel-worn muscles. He and the shiv both moved more fluidly by the time they returned to camp and sat by the fire that Arc had built. Its flames licked several feet upward into the sky and radiated a comforting warmth.
Izzy Gin already sat near Arc by the fire. Luc emerged from his tent just as Will and the shiv settled in by the flames. In spite of their location, Will felt surprisingly at home. He studied each of his companions in turn, and realized with surprise that they were making this strange assignment, with all of its bizarre elements and unique people, actually work. They didn’t have any answers yet, but somehow, they’d truly become a team.
He wasn’t one to get all sentimental, but he felt an odd sense of belonging among these anomalous people. What that meant about him, he didn’t know.
Arc had to admit, the dinner had turned out well. As the others dug into their meals, they complimented Arc on his campsite cooking.
“Part of my job.” He shrugged. “Who wants a guide who can’t offer a pleasant meal? After a day of hiking, a good plate of food is particularly welcome.” He’d learned long ago that eating nothing but uncooked fruits, grasses, and nuts got boring fast. He’d developed cooking skills as a necessity.
“You’ve done well for us, thank you,” Luc acknowledged. “I doubt any of the rest of us could do half as well.”
Wow. High praise, from Luc. Arc tried not to feel too good about it, because Luc would probably follow up the compliment with something insulting. When the manahi finished chewing and opened his mouth to speak again, Arc braced himself.
“Now, for my part, I’ve been focused on detecting mana.” Luc said. “It’s tough to describe mana sense to those who don’t have it, just as it’s difficult to explain color to someone who is blind. I’m going to use a lot of similes, so please bear with me. Apex has relatively little mana concentration, and, usually, no people. In the middle latitudes, there are many manahi signatures creating clusters of mana. It’s like a cacophony of noises at a child’s birthday party. I usually tune them out as much as I can.”
“Here, though,” he continued, “it’s quiet. No mana users. No signatures. There’s only the little bit of inert mana inherent to the region. Because of that, any active use of mana will stand out to me like a trumpet blast in a library.”
“You’ve sensed nothing out of the ordinary, then?” Arc asked.
Out of the corner of his eye, Arc noticed Izzy Gin studying Will while she listened. He wondered why. Knowing what he now did, her attention made Arc curious about whether she had sensed some particularly interesting emotion.
“Nothing I can quantify or direct toward,” Luc answered with a frown, drawing Arc’s attention back where it should be. “There’s a sense of something. . .” Luc’s fingers made a grasping movement, as if to pluck the right words out of the air. His hand dropped and he shook his head. “It’s like a hint of a whiff of something, but when I think I smell it, it’s gone. I haven’t detected any definitive mana use so far.”
Luc stared at the red and orangey flames that leaped and danced in front of them. “We need to keep searching. I feel a pull in this direction we’ve been traveling. Mallie couldn’t ignore those rumors she heard, although she felt ridiculous about it. There are missing miners in Sub-Apex. Finally, if someone is tampering with mana, Apex is the place to do it.” Luc now sounded as if he was thinking aloud, rather than talking to any of them.
“You can’t hide the kind of ability that destroyed Sorrow. A person like that would stand out to another manahi’s senses as clearly as a bolt of lightning.” Luc clenched his fists. “Yet no one we’ve found has anything useful to tell us. I know it’s out there!” He set his plate down and glared up into the dark, starry sky. “I’m going back to my tent.” He was halfway there before he even got the words out.
He twisted around just before he disappeared into the tent. “Thank you for the meal. It really was good,” he said quickly. Arc’s forehead creased with surprise at the thanks. Luc had fastened his tent flap behind him by the time the archer recovered enough to reply.
Izzy Gin let out a small puff of breath. “Wow,” she said softly. “That guy is all over the place.”
Arc raised an eyebrow. “Is that a professional opinion?”
“Damn right.”
He laughed. “It seems like we’re aware of only half of what’s going on with him, while the other half battles it out in his head.” He shrugged. “I guess he’ll let us know when there’s a winner.”
She shrugged in agreement, then excused herself to her own tent.
Arc’s gaze fell on the shiv. Their mysterious friend was always watching and listening. Rarely did he interact with the rest of them. It was a shame the circumstances prevented them from having regular conversations. There was so much Arc would have liked to discuss with a justice.
The backs of Arc’s arms tingled when he noticed deep blue eyes fixed on him. He frowned when the sensation moved to his chest.
He wondered if that wisp of a scent Luc sensed could somehow affect him, too. He had no mana sense at all, but he most definitely felt something. He rubbed his chest absently, then excused himself to his tent. He’d come back out to adjust the tinder mix after the others left the fire.
Izzy thought her backside might never recover. Cart seats only offered so much protection from the rough terrain. Three more monotonous days of rolling across the frigid landscape of Apex had made her restless and edgy. Even Arc had fallen silent as he sat in the driver’s seat beside her, staring out at the miles of blah stretching ahead of them. The justice was no less silent than usual behind them in the back seat. She felt a tickle in the back of her mind, drawing her attention to the other cart. In the passenger seat beside Will, Luc sprang ramrod straight.
“Stop!” he thundered, throwing his arms out wide. Not that she’d needed to hear him. The spike of urgency she felt from Luc was more than enough to get her attention.
Arc’s arms stiffened as he fought the steering wheel that kicked from side to side at the skidding stop. Will had negotiated the other cart to a stop and they all stared at Luc.
He glared toward the northwest. He sat still as stone until he snapped his attention to his companions, who barely dared to breathe as anticipation and hope froze their lungs.
“There.” He t
ipped his head in the direction he’d been looking. “It’s that way, mana, like a beacon.” His forehead furrowed. “Throbbing, like a fire out of control.” He rubbed the flat of his palm against his brow, while the others waited for him to tell them more.
“Well, drive!” he barked. Arc and Will wasted no time in hitting the accelerators and aiming the carts southwest.
The rush of adrenaline gradually subsided after the first hour of scanning the horizon. Unfortunately, staring avidly at a fixed point does not help a person get there sooner. After the third hour of anticipation, Izzy’s excitement had dissolved into a puddle of dread. By then, she’d had far too long to ruminate on what Luc had sensed. None of the scenarios she’d imagined had been inspiring. At all.
When the sun began to sink into the horizon, she felt her own foreboding reflected back at her from the others. Well, not from the shiv. She’d been waiting years for the justice to experience some emotional outburst, but so far it hadn’t happened.
When darkness fell, the travelers didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Accustomed now to a routine, they relied on it for its certainty. Setting up camp in its familiar configuration and filling themselves with dinner gave them some small measure of utility.
Izzy knew Luc found no solace in the routine, though. He retreated into himself, seeking something that was intangible to the others. When he left the fire as soon as he finished eating, the justice and Will both followed his example. Izzy felt a pang of guilt because she sensed Arc’s desire for her to stay and talk, but she needed some time alone. The heightened emotions of her companions had become an irritant of rough edges chaffing her senses.