by C. R. Grey
Bailey glanced at Gwen. She didn’t meet his eyes. Whether she was thinking of Phi, whose bond with Carin could have helped them, or her own severed bond, Bailey couldn’t tell. He felt a tug at his heart, even though he still wanted to be mad at her for doubting Tremelo.
Hal raised his hand.
“I’m not avian, but my kin can fly,” he said.
A few minutes later, Bailey stood with the sword in his hand next to Hal, Taylor, and Annika on a rocky ledge overlooking the woods beyond the school. Taleth, Tori, Gwen, Shonfield, and the rest of the students stood or crouched behind them on the rocks. From the trees opposite them, they heard crashes and shouts. Hal took a deep breath.
“Okay,” he said quietly, shutting his eyes.
A sound like wind through dead leaves grew in volume. Bailey turned to look behind them, and saw a sizeable cloud of bats rising up from the branches of the forest and careening toward him and Hal. Hal clenched his eyes tightly, and the bats flew just over the heads of all those watching, spreading out over the valley. Once they reached the other side, they disappeared into the trees.
Hal did not speak for a moment, and then he opened his eyes wide.
“It’s Defiance!” he said.
And as if on cue, the top of a sail poked up from behind a cluster of rocks. Bailey and Hal, with Gwen, Tori, and Annika right behind them, scrambled down into the trench below them to get a closer look. On the other side of the rocky valley was “docked” one of the land ships of Defiance.
“How did it get here?” Hal asked.
As if the ship itself were answering him, four small hatches opened on the ship’s bottom with a squeak, and out of each one emerged a mechanical leg. The legs planted themselves and lifted the ship from the rocks.
“Right,” Hal said. “How could I have forgotten the walking ship?”
A figure appeared on the deck, carrying a heavy-looking round object.
“It’s the Tully!” said Bailey. He stood up tall and waved his arms.
“Tully!” Annika yelled out. “Stop this madness!”
The Tully ducked as a volley of arrows struck the side of the ship, from the direction of the forest.
“Fire!” yelled a voice, and the round object that the Tully had just been carrying soared out of a cannon on the side of the ship. It crashed into the trees, where Bailey heard the splintering of a struck tree falling.
“Oh Nature’s ears,” said Tori. “Digby and the RATS have fired on them!”
“Stop!” shouted Gwen, joining Bailey as she waved alongside him.
“She can’t hear you over all that noise,” said Annika. “I’ll have to get closer and tell them.”
“Then Hal and I will come with you!” Tori said, as the three began to climb down toward the Tully.
“We’ll go find Digby?” Bailey asked Gwen. She nodded and they were off. “Stay there where it’s safe!” Bailey implored Shonfield and the other students. He and Gwen ran to the embankment of rocks that would lead to the other side of the trench. Taleth leapt down to join them. The sounds of whooshing arrows and the crashing of the Tully’s cannon echoed as they climbed up and into the cover of the trees. He wished Tremelo was here to talk some sense into everyone.
Even through the noise, Bailey and Gwen had no trouble finding their bearings in the woods, as Digby Barnes’s loud voice echoed through the trees. “Come out, you snail-slime, and fight us in the open!”
Bailey and Gwen followed the sound of his bellowing to a sun-spattered grove. Just north, through a thin line of trees, an open hillside offered a view of the higher peaks beyond. In the grove just beyond the pitch, the RATS and the Velyn crouched in fighting positions, weapons aimed at the trees directly south of them.
“And…fire!” shouted Digby to a flank of archers.
“Wait!” shouted Gwen. “Digby, stop!”
The arrows soared over Gwen’s and Bailey’s heads and struck the trunks of the trees behind them.
“At least we know the Tully and her fighters aren’t even in the trees,” Gwen muttered.
Bailey kept his head down and ran from one boulder to another with the sword clutched tightly in his hand. He was inching closer to the Allies’ firing line. Gwen and Taleth kept close behind him, with Gwen occasionally popping up between volleys to yell out Digby’s name. Finally, just as the Velyn were about to release their arrows, Digby saw them.
“What in Nature?” he shouted. “Stop. Cease fire, everyone! It’s the kids!”
Gwen and Bailey ran to him.
“You have to stop fighting,” Bailey gasped, out of breath.
“Not a chance—they attacked first! These…these…hooligans with their wooden cannonballs and their sneaky ways! Blast them! They haven’t shown so much as a whisker or claw—nasty hard creatures to see!”
Digby ducked as a whooshing cannonball soared over their heads and smashed, sending splinters of wood everywhere, into the trunk of the tree behind them.
“You’ll have to do better than that!” Digby yelled.
“No, you don’t understand,” said Gwen. “We know them—they’re friends!”
“Some friends,” said Digby. “You show me a ‘friend’ that shoots without bein’ introduced proper, and I’ll show you a muskrat’s musk.”
“Bailey! Gwen!” Tori’s voice floated over the Allies’ ranks from the edge of the grove.
“Over here!” shouted Bailey.
Annika appeared out of the shadows, leading the Tully and Lukas. Tori and Hal were just a step behind. Annika frowned, her strong chin jutted forward, as though she was annoyed at everyone for playing war.
“Sorry about that last whizz-bang,” said the Tully, a hand cupped around her wrinkled mouth. “It was already loaded when these three came to fetch us!”
“Digby Barnes, this is my companion, the Tully,” said Annika as the other party approached.
“You’re both here to fight for the True King—not one another!” Gwen added.
A long moment of agonized silence settled between the two groups, as Digby wiped his hands on his knees.
“Please,” the Tully said, her deep voice low and magical. “Accept our apologies. We were too hasty with the cannons.”
“Well, I…” said Digby. He’d pulled back a makeshift helmet made of a metal trash receptacle. “No worries at all…no harm done. Held our own, didn’t we? Yes. Lovely, lovely.” Like everyone, he’d humbled himself before the Tully, who had her way with words and people.
“Where is Phi?” Bailey asked. Gwen nodded, her grin wide as she stood on the tips of her toes to get a better view of the landscape.
“She left,” Lukas said. He buried his face into the Tully’s side.
“Left?” Gwen asked.
Bailey’s insides felt like they’d frozen over. “Left where?” he asked.
Lukas shook his head as if he was ashamed.
“What’s done is done, little lizard,” the Tully said gently. “Tell them where she is, what she is….”
Lukas pointed up. “She’s a bird in the sky now.”
PHI SOARED ABOVE THE Dark Woods. The wind caught under her wings, and she felt the wisps slip through the ends of her individual feathers, creating a strange mix of buoyancy and instability that she had to quickly learn to control. And her wings, themselves—they were as beautiful as they were sturdy. She’d always admired Carin’s coloring, the fine places where tan stopped and dark, rich brown began. But never had she appreciated their perfect design, all the better to cut through the air, until now.
How had she gotten here? There was a vague memory of Phi’s human mind—gathering and crushing herbs in a stone bowl, breathing in the spices as she chanted in the darkness. It had hit the back of her throat and her nostrils like sparks from a campfire, where it seemed to stick and continue burning. She couldn’t breathe. Her hands had reached out, grasping for water, for air, for kindness.
And then she’d seen those same hands split and flatten. Her fingers became feathers
, and suddenly the dark horizon rose up in front of her vision as her feet hardened and shrank. She scrambled on a nearby tree with thick, sharp talons that cut haphazardly into the bark. They’d ached, these new feet, as though the old ones had been literally ripped away. She tried to speak then, but all she heard was a loud shriek that filled her own ears. Her mouth was so long, so hard and curved, and the sound that came out from it had been as sharp as a rigimotive’s whistle.
The last thing she remembered was the last thing her human eyes had read: The risk is high. And if the human does not return to her original form after due time, she is bound to the shape of her kin forever. And yet even now, she could grasp that it wasn’t a risk. Forever in this form wouldn’t be long enough.
Now, Carin joined her—and she was filled with a sense of belonging and rightness. Together they flew in barrel rolls, circling each other in loops. They shot through dense thickets of trees, ducking over and under branches with not even a scratch. Phi’s bird-eyes saw the forest in wide spans, swiveling to find the best berries, the softest stoats, which she and Carin shared like family.
Just then, she spotted two other birds in the distance. They approached, gliding menacingly on large wings. Before too long it became clear they were cutting a path toward Phi and Carin. Carin dipped and swooped around, screeching for Phi to follow her back the way they came. Phi’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to execute the same maneuver, but she still wasn’t used to her wings. The two birds separated as if to circle around them, their movements efficient but unnatural. Predators. Phi’s heart, already beating so much faster than it ever had in her old life, began to vibrate.
One of the strange birds pursued her. No matter what current she rode or how hard she flapped her wings, it gained on her. Where was Carin? She was no longer certain of where she was, and disoriented, she felt it before she understood—a cold beak clamping down on her throat like a vise. She started to screech as blood dripped and matted in the feathers of her chest. The pain! She lifted her talons, scratching at the bird in vain—and she scratched not feathers and flesh but metal. Phi looked at the attacking bird for the first time and saw red, gleaming eyes.
All the knowledge of her human mind rushed back to her, and she had one, overwhelming thought: Viviana is here.
OFF THE BATTLEFIELD AND back on the campus, one of the RATS in Digby’s charge returned, reporting a black dust at the edge of the forest.
“The site was covered in what looked like ash, with a pair of what looked like hoofprints running straight through,” the woman said, showing the black soot on her fingertips. A tawny deer with big eyes waited in the distance, too coy to come any closer. “But not in random, natural patterns. No, these prints here were in a perfect line. Like they were machines…”
Gwen gasped. “Mechanical horses?” she asked. She seemed shaken by the possibility; they all were.
“We’ll have to investigate, I suppose,” Digby said, kneading his red cap in his hands. He didn’t seem to like making decisions all that much.
“But what about Tremelo?” Bailey insisted. “We’d agreed to investigate the school grounds and then lead a search to find him! And now that there’s more of us,” he said, gesturing to the women of Defiance with his sword-bearing hand, “then all the more reason to go now.”
“You guys remember Tremelo, right?” Tori said to the group. “He’s only our king.”
Digby looked to Merrit and Roger helplessly. But it was Shonfield who stepped in.
“Why don’t we send a group out with two goals: to investigate the ash-covered site and search for Tremelo?”
Bailey and his friends couldn’t argue with that, and they came along despite initial resistance; it was Tori who threatened that they’d follow just the same if they weren’t “allowed” to come along.
Now in the forest, they’d fanned out to find the black soot and tracks. Hal and Bailey stayed close behind Digby and Annika. But when a pair of red eyes glinted in the dense brambles, Bailey called out. Digby and Annika ran toward it, their weapons at the ready. Bailey’s heart was doing jumping jacks.
Annika gave Digby a nod, and the man pulled back the branches in one swoop while Annika moved in and yelled, “Surrender!”
In response Bailey heard a man’s moan, saw Annika stumble back—less in fear than in surprise. He and Hal ran to her side to see what she saw.
It was a man. He looked battered and thin, on the verge of collapse. He wore an eye patch, but his remaining eye had a look of desperation.
“I surrender,” he said in a near whisper. The man was slumped over the back of a metal horse with red eyes. It stared at them coolly but did not move to attack.
“It’s a machine,” said Hal, “just like those birds!”
“I’ve seen these,” Gwen murmured, quiet enough so that only Bailey could hear. She stepped up to look the horse in its eyes. She got closer than anyone else dared to, but she was scared—Bailey could tell by the way her hand shook.
“My Nature, man,” Digby said, somewhat tenderly. “What happened to you?”
The man attempted to dismount the automaton, which was much larger than the Clamoribus, and even taller than Viviana’s sharp-clawed tiger had been. But he slipped and would’ve fallen, had it not been for Digby, who moved to catch him. Once he was secure, Digby eased him to sit on the forest floor.
“My name is Clarke. I’m here for my son…” the man said weakly. “Lyle.”
“Lyle?!” Tori piped up. The small group sent out to investigate had now formed behind them.
Annika held out a canteen of water for the man to drink. He could not lift it himself and she helped him, holding it to his mouth while he gulped eagerly and spurted.
Bailey stepped past them and stood next to Gwen, drawn to the horse and terrified at the same time. His mother was Animas Horse, and he’d grown up around the animals—massive, strong, stoic. Reaching up, he lightly touched its nose. It was the same kind of metal as Lyle’s orb.
“It’s the same as the tiger’s heart from the Fair!” Hal said, scooting in between them. He ran a cautious finger along the carved ridge of the horse’s nostril. His finger became coated with the same powder that was mixed with the dust outside.
“They’re filled with it,” he said. “Almost like gunpowder.”
Bailey’s hands shook. He’d seen firsthand what the Dominae could do. With this kind of power, he didn’t want to imagine what Viviana had planned. Now, more than ever, they needed to find Tremelo. He’d know what to do. He’d know how to defeat it.
“They mine, they build, and then they move on,” Clarke mumbled. “They’re setting up camps.”
“Camps?” Gwen asked.
“I helped her. I shouldn’t have, I know that now….” Clarke trailed off. He was obviously exhausted. “But I was scared.”
Bailey nodded gravely.
“It churned my stomach. They use animals of all kinds to haul and break up the rocks. And I swear, those animals weren’t in their own minds. I saw—I saw…”
“What? What was it?” Bailey asked.
“It sounds mad. But I saw a lynx, a little desert cat, moving about as though it was living—but it wasn’t.”
Bailey and Gwen shared a look; he’d remembered the jackal at the Progress Fair who’d seemingly come back from the dead. He was sure at the time that he’d been mistaken, that the animal had only regained consciousness after being knocked out. But now he wasn’t sure. Annika placed a hand on either one of their shoulders to put them at ease.
“Don’t ask me how I know; it’s too terrible. But its soul wasn’t with it. Its eyes were empty. Moved like a puppet, pulling a pallet of rocks. I can’t shake the thought of it, no matter how I try. It was Dominance, but something else too….”
Gwen knelt before the battered man and took his hands in her own. He was instantly put at ease by her touch.
“Is there a way to defeat these metal horses?” she asked intensely.
He shift
ed in his seat, a pained look returning to his face. “No,” he said, his voice on the verge of cracking. “They’re tainted. Evil. It’s as if they feed on your fear, just like Viviana herself.” He paused to double over and cough here. When he took his hand away from his mouth, there were drops of blood.
After a stunned silence Digby asked that they let Clarke rest. “Needs to save his breath for his little boy, he does,” he added. He picked Clarke up and began to head back to camp.
“Shouldn’t half of us stay out and keep looking for Tremelo?” Bailey asked.
“We can’t split our forces,” Roger said. “And this man clearly needs to get to safety.”
Everyone began to walk back toward the school as if a decision had already been made. Bailey fumed, and fell a few steps behind as he gathered his thoughts. He sought Gwen out and wove his way through the small band of people to speak to her.
“Why don’t you want to find Tremelo?” he asked her harshly. Her eyes opened wide in surprise.
“I—I do want to find him,” she stuttered in response.
“You didn’t seem like you did back there at the school,” Bailey said. “Tell the adults you want to. They’ll listen to you.”
“No, they won’t!”
“They might! You’re from Parliament. You’re the Elder’s apprentice, and you’re older than the rest of us. And anyway it couldn’t hurt. I can’t do this all by myself!” he said, raising his voice.
Gwen’s eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t yell at me!” she said, poking her finger into Bailey’s chest. “You think just because you have a sword in your hand you can tell me what to do and what to say?”
Bailey stepped back, surprised by her anger. Her Gray accent had come out as well, clipped words and a musical flow to it. But he still wasn’t going to back down.
“Admit it: you don’t want to find Tremelo,” he said. Tori and Hal fell behind the group to see what the commotion was about. “Tell me why.”
“I don’t want to put you in more danger!” she yelled. “I mean, us. I don’t want to put us or anyone else in more danger!”