They didn’t speak as Dime hobbled back toward the burrows, trying not to go too fast on her untested ankle. The common area was calm as they approached, but then several screeches sounded. Juni was not among the gathered newts, nor was Stern Eyes, Dime noticed.
“How do you say her name?” Dime whispered to Ella. “Stern Eyes. I want to say it right.”
“You won’t!” Ella said with a snort. “Don’t try! Just say this.” Ella made a soothing sound. “It’s respectful. Now don’t vary it or that meaning will change.”
Dime tried not to think about that as Stern Eyes emerged from the closest burrow, humming in a low tone and with a face even more stern than normal. Dime headed right toward her, making the best and most respectful cooing sound she could muster. With another thought, she pulled every pouch of size off of her jacket and laid it next to Ella’s large bag, filled with the food she’d brought for their journey back.
Stern Eyes rose up and bellowed at full volume as the other newts ran back toward their burrows. Unflinching, yet unsure how to react, Dime just stood there, hoping it would not be seen as defiance. Yet, she could detect the unmistakable expression of satisfaction. Stern Eyes waited, not touching the contents of the bag. “Let’s go,” Ella whispered. “You did fine.”
Without another word, Dime and Ella turned and retraced their steps, headed toward a place that Dime hoped could not be stranger than the last.
As she left, a weight of sorrow set in at the thought that perhaps she would not see Juni for a very long time. In the distance, Dime heard a howl, one that reminded her of a ch’pyr, calling for family.
If Ella noticed Dime’s tears, she did not mention them.
Lunn was running out of fuel for his lamps. His hands unsteady, he tapped the metal base against the carved table, hoping he could run this one for at least a few more bells.
Once retired, he’d moved here to a small home on the mountainside of Nor Lodon. And one by one, the pyrsi he’d loved most had died. He still had grandchildren in the city, and he supposed they had families, but they’d stopped visiting long ago.
The only visitor now was the transport, bringing him food, supplies, and his publications. Sometimes an Inspector came to check on his health, but it was fine. It was always fine, and he was glad when they left.
Lunn spent all his time now poring through his publications, one after the other. Stacks of publications, that had told the truth, he now knew.
They’d been right about the fairies. He’d seen the last Caller. Fairies. Fairies in Lodon. They’d said it was lies. It wasn’t lies. The beasts had flown into the city, used their valence to wound and destroy. This was just the start.
The Caller didn’t say those things. But the Caller was controlled by the Circles. Spreading lies was all the Circles had ever done.
These pyrsi. They got it. If they were right about the fairies, they were right about other things too. Lunn tried to calm himself. He was too scared to go out now; his windows were covered with every spare blanket he owned, and only the lamplight flickered in his large front room. He missed watching the curved rows of towers below and the birds that circled the mountain slope, but he could not risk the fairies finding him here.
The Great War was returning. Lunn knew this. They never said it directly in the publications; the Circles would never let them. But Lunn understood their clever words. He knew what they meant. And he agreed. The Great War would come again, and the return of the fairies had proven it.
If the Violence had returned, he would not succumb to it. He was a good ma’pyr and kept right with Sol. But, still, he could help.
He grasped the pen, his aged fingers now almost the color of the ink itself. Holding his pen hand as steady as he could with the other, Lunn scrawled the transport stop onto the envelope, the one in the publication. He slid the paynote inside and set it next to the donation he’d already sealed for the freeshops.
From within his darkened home, he huddled by the lamplight, hoping that when the fairies returned, they would leave him alone.
The Beginning
y spouse was a Fo-ror,” Ella noted as they worked their way up another hill.
Dime almost tripped over her stick. Ella had seemed absorbed in thought, and the hike was long, slow, and exhausting, so they had walked thus far without conversation. She assumed at some point they’d stop and rest, and there would be time for questions then. In truth, Dime was over being surprised by anything. But this was something. Married to a fairy!
“Some Circles agent found out, investigating reports made by some ch’pyrsi exploring the old woods. Or, the ‘dark woods’ as you’ve probably heard them. We live out that way, or, I do now, in a small tower. With Friend.”
But Dime had spent cycles in the IC. It wouldn’t make sense that she hadn’t—
“You’re probably thinking you would have heard if it were true. Yet, as I’m sure you know, there are secrets and then there are secrets. The report went straight to the Light himself. Not Sala, as this was a while back, before she was chosen.
“He visited us on his own, like actually showed up at our home, demanding that Suzanne must leave.” Ella wheezed. “Ha, you try telling Suzanne what to do—even if you are the Light. Or, especially if you’re the Light!” For a moment, a spark lit Ella’s eyes, fading as soon as it appeared.
“Once he saw she was going to be stubborn about it, it was more important to him that no one learned of us than it was to try and oust us. So he spread stories of a dark witch on the edge of the woods. Made it a crime to approach, for pyrsi’s own protection. I’m sure the record was ‘sealed’ or ‘burned’ or whatever you pyrsi do with facts that you don’t accept.” She sneered.
You pyrsi? Dime’s instinct was to defend that, but she was feeling uncertain herself, and Ella wasn’t pausing for her input.
“And thus the witch of the woods was born. Came from some ridiculous old story about a fe’pyr that hexed visitors. No, he wouldn’t say she had valence, because Suzanne did have valence, and used it quite effectively, and that would just be a little too close to the truth. And, since I’d come into the city sometimes for supplies and he knew it, he spread my description as this witch. I could hardly buy fruit in the market after that.
“It’s faded over time, but the story gets passed down by those with an itch for superstition and not enough else to do. Suzanne, to your precious Light, didn’t even exist. Sala, if she even knows the story, probably thinks she’s still there.”
Dime was taken aback by the bitter edge to Ella’s tone and almost advised her to leave Dime out of her assumptions. But, she didn’t know this fe’pyr at all. She’d become so accustomed to odd events over these past few turns, she’d taken it at face value that a random fe’pyr would show up in the middle of a newt colony to walk her home. Even now, Dime followed Ella along without question. For all she knew, Ella was leading her to the fairies.
Except, Dime knew she wasn’t. Dime had always had a sense of when pyrsi were or weren’t telling the truth. She didn’t know what Ella’s angle on all this was yet, but Dime trusted everything she said. Even the idea of a Ja-lal being married to a Fo-ror. Which she couldn’t imagine. But now believed.
Still, the attitude. For now, her breaths short and everything swirling in her mind, she let the comments slide.
Using the beach stick to walk was slow, painful, and wearisome, though she found the travel easier as the sand gave way to firmer soil, scruffy grasses, and tall, waving stalks that helped block the wind. Ella stopped and waited when Dime paused at a cluster of spiky orange flowers to breathe in their sharp fragrance. “Aren’t they nice?” Ella commented.
They never stopped for long. As the bells passed and the terrain began to dry out again, Dime realized they must be close to Sol’s Reach. Also, that they would not be passing through the forest this way. She supposed they must be skirting its wesside edg
e. She wondered how far they were from the cliff.
“Will we, uh, have to scale the cliff?” Dime considered that, despite her injuries, they didn’t have climbing equipment. She had no idea how they’d manage.
“You cross at its ends. The wesside dwindles down to the shore; it’s passable on foot for one narrow stretch.”
Passable! As in, pyrsi could just wander down to the land of the fairies? That didn’t show up on IC maps.
At least relieved of any worries of cliff climbing, she plodded along, trying to keep her mind off all her pains and soreness and just get herself home. As she sorted through the information in her mind, concern focused again on her family. Before they got back into Sol’s Reach, Dime needed to decide her next move.
She couldn’t be seen in Lodon, but it would also be the best place to gather facts and news. And she had no idea what had transpired in the city these past turns.
Ella must know more than they’d discussed; it seemed she’d been out looking for Dime. So, she probably knew of the invasion. At least Ella wouldn’t need to be convinced of the presence of fairies in the city.
“So you knew the fairies came for me—I suppose?” Dime felt a little ch’pyrish between the simple words and their relative tardiness.
“The rumors are all over. Even Sala can’t quash them. Stories across the city of flying fairies. Big shiny wings. Capes and hoods like criminals. Some insist they knocked over walls or burned down portions of the market, despite there being no such damage or witnesses. Of course, they say that was the Maintenance Circle performing a speedy cleanup.”
“A wall was broken, though I don’t think on purpose. I didn’t notice any fires.” Dime tried to recall what she’d seen as she ran through the streets.
“Stories are generally muddled when told by a crowd,” Ella offered. “Though I put no amount of cover-up past your Circles, or past the Seats for that matter. Either way, I saw no signs of damage myself. No signs of Fo-ror. From all reports, they chased you out and haven’t reappeared since. I still have a few good sources in the city, and they told me that you were the one involved. High-level Intel Circle agent said to have just left. You can imagine the rumors that in itself would cause.
“Now, I don’t know a thing about this Fe’Diamond, other than her curiously fairy-sympathetic name and her counter-intuitive career choices. But, as I’ve already explained to you, I have an interest in such things. So I gathered some emergency supplies and set out to see what I could find about the missing agent.
“My first stop was to visit my beach-dwelling friends, as they are excellent trackers, don’t mind giving a pyr a ride, and are well-willing to break into the Heartland if I find them a way in. I had no chance to ask them a thing; there you were, a sad-looking nudie plopped down on the edge of the Beds. ‘Alright, who’s this?’ I thought. And then the newts told me what they believed, and it was nothing like what I expected to hear. So it seems we may have a situation.”
The Beds? The newts? Information about me? A slew of new questions began to formulate in Dime’s mind. But Ella spoke again.
“Now, on that subject, I’ve told you a fair bit about myself, but I have no idea who you are.”
Dime recognized the technique: a clear change in subject. But Ella was right; Dime hadn’t told her much of anything. It had felt as though Ella already knew her. Or must have. The older fe’pyr had traveled all the way across the cliff to find her, after all. Dime struggled, trying to figure what to say.
“I’m Fe’Dime. I’m twenty cycles old and moving toward twenty-one.” Now she really felt like a lower-grade student. “I worked for the Intel Circle, and the day I left, I was pursued by three Fo-ror—completely out of nowhere—who attempted to capture me with strange ropes. I didn’t know why. I still don’t know why. I’m not sure I actually believed they existed.
“They started pushing stuff around, so I tried to draw them away from Lodon and at the same time lose them so I could regroup and develop a plan. Instead, I drove all the way to the end of Sol’s Reach in some sort of wild fury, fell over the cliff, and survived long enough for Juni to find me. Now you’ve found me also.
“I’m starting to feel like I’m going to make it through all this, at least for today, but I’m worried about my family. Mostly that they might be worried about me. I have a father, a spouse, and two children in the city. I’ve got to get to them.”
Dime whipped her head around and she stopped in place. “You have sources. Were there any captures? Charges? Injuries? Anything related to my family? Or that could impact them?”
Ella paused. “As of when I left, I’d heard nothing. They’re probably lying low. I’m not certain that Sala or her agents would seek them out right away. Sometimes when asking questions risks turning an unpleasant story into an unpleasant fact, our leaders prefer not to ask. So your family may be fine for now. I hope they are.”
Dime appreciated the sincerity in Ella’s voice, and she felt a growing connection with the unordinary fe’pyr. “I’d thought about hiding somewhere in the outlands and getting word to the fairies so they wouldn’t go back to the city. But if they think I’m dead, maybe I’m safe to go back. And I mean, how would I get them word anyway without telling everyone in Sol’s Reach?” Dime sighed, frustrated and wishing she knew more.
She started walking forward again, remembering they were trying to keep moving. “I’ve got to go back to Lodon,” she said. “Don’t you agree?”
Ella took a long time to answer, as they walked along side by side. “I think, if you are careful, you can stay out of sight, and then we can plan.” She blinked. “Sorry . . . we . . . it’s just that I . . . I think I can help. It would be . . . more interesting . . . than sitting around the tower.”
Dime wasn’t sure where to begin. She wasn’t sure why Ella would want to help her, but if she needed the one pyr who had a connection to the fairies, she’d found her. And it wasn’t really a coincidence, not if everyone knew what had happened. Dime was still grappling with that herself. As many times as she casually referenced fairies popping into her living room, it still didn’t seem possible. Fairies, after all.
“Ella?”
Ella returned the inquiry with a side glance.
“You said your spouse was a Fo-ror. Has she . . . joined memory?” Dime thought she knew the answer, but it would be a dreadful thing to misunderstand.
Ella’s face tightened and her words became terse. “Yes. Many cycles now. Fe’Suzannelina of the village of Noruh. An outer village, out sur toward Home Sha. She was a botanist, chef, healer, poet— She was everything this world needed. She was my best friend.”
“I’m sorry.” Dime glanced again at Ella’s skin, dark enough to exceed Dime’s own age but not dark enough that it was normal to lose a spouse, and not cycles ago. So much had been taken from her. Her city. Her identity. Her spouse. And, she had not mentioned children or a current relationship, just someone or something she called Friend. It didn’t sound like the way one would refer to a homemate, so then, perhaps Ella lived alone, outcast for a reason no longer even valid. Or maybe, that was never valid.
But then, without her spouse, Ella could go back to Lodon. Yet she hadn’t. Not in all these cycles. Dime was curious about the reasons why, and almost as if Ella had read her mind, she changed the subject again with a decided glare.
“We’re almost out of the Heartland now, or the fringe of it where we were. The Crossing is ahead. Assuming you haven’t been there, it’s a funny place.”
“Like, funny, ha ha?”
“What?” Ella grimaced. “No, like odd.” She paused. “It was funny one time, with a Fo-ror trader who had a bird companion.” Ella’s expression softened.
Dime almost asked, but there was another question on her mind and she didn’t want to lose it. “Is the Heartland—is it the Undergrowth?” This was getting ridiculous. And embarrassing. Dime had sp
ent a career in Intel yet appeared to know so little. Or at least her knowledge ended at the cliff. As she had been told it must be.
“Oh, sure. Of course. It’s what the Fo-ror call their lands. Just as the Ja-lal call theirs Sol’s Reach.”
“What do the Fo-ror call Sol’s Reach?”
“What?”
“If we each have our own names for things, do they have their own for Sol’s Reach?”
“Oh, that. Yes. The Barrens.”
“They call Sol’s Reach the Barrens?” Dime remembered the lush green canopy of the edge of the Undergrowth and almost conceded the point. But, no. As beautiful as the forest was, Sol’s Reach was anything but barren.
“The Crossing is a funny place,” Ella continued, “because it isn’t supposed to exist.”
Dime thought about this for a stride. She’d been taught that since the Great War, the Ja-lal and Fo-ror had gone off to exist in separate worlds, thankfully divided by a non-navigable cliff, lest their unsalvageable relationship ever again bring the Violence. But then, why was there a crossing? Images sprung to mind of a big sign—Welcome to Sol’s Reach—and a tourist shop selling carved desk baubles. It probably wasn’t that.
“And, like any place that doesn’t exist, there’s no protection for those daring to visit it. Such places are usually either inherently safe or inherently dangerous, depending on who ends up in charge.”
“Let me guess,” Dime said. “This one falls under dangerous. But— Certainly—” She couldn’t finish that sentence.
“The Violence? Oh, not like that. Tickling its borders— Swindling? Contraband? Quite a bit. I would say, though, that there would be social repercussions for being seen in a place like that, so it keeps law-abiding pyrsi from seeking out whether it really exists.”
“But,” Dime thought aloud, “anyone who sees you there is also there.” She’d used the line often when her children were embarrassed to go to an uncool shop.
Diamondsong 01: Escape Page 8