Rift (Roran Curse Book 3)

by Heidi J. Leavitt

  She bent down to the small boy trembling at her side. “Stay here, Erik,” she whispered. “I’m going to make sure it’s safe first.” Before Erik could meltdown again, she switched on the gunlight and slipped quickly into the window feet first. She scanned the entire room quickly by the light from her gun, confirming that it was empty, then called up to Erik. He whimpered a bit, but a second later his feet were dangling through the open basement window. After holstering her gun, she tugged him down inside the room, cradling him to her chest.

  The basement room was a jumbled mess of loose-hanging ventilation ducts, charred debris, and fallen pipes. She could tell that once it had been divided into four rooms. The hulking remains of what had probably once been the boiler were visible through the skeletal remains of one wall, and through the hanging wires she could see empty metal shelving on the far side. The floor above them had caved in near the interior corner. A set of concrete stairs led up to nothing. They wouldn’t be getting out that way. Turning slowly one more time, she didn’t see any signs of recent habitation. At the very least someone squatting in the basement would have cleared some space on the floor. There was not even enough clear space to sit down. How was she going to keep a three-year-old safe in this death trap?

  No matter, she told herself. We just need to stay here long enough to sleep. Long enough for me to figure out what we’re going to do next. It will be impossible for someone to sneak up on us in here. Shifting her weight to get a better grip on Erik, she picked her way along the concrete basement wall until she was a short distance away from the window. Far enough that an intruder wouldn’t land on top of them, but close enough that she should hear them before they tried to get inside. She kicked aside some boards and cleared a small circle in the debris and carefully set Erik down on the floor. He pressed up against her leg but didn’t cry. Brave kid. He had to be terrified, and she was sure he didn’t remember her at all.

  Pulling the jumpbag off her back, she took a water bottle and un-screwed it, handing it to Erik. While he gulped greedily, she rummaged for a ration bar. She’d learned long ago that traveling around in the Red Zone had to be treated like a foray into enemy territory. She had to make sure she had the basic necessities on her at all times: weapons, food, water, basic first aid supplies, and some means of communication.

  Communication.

  What had possessed her to hand over her flipcom to a virtual stranger? It was a mistake a soft society girl would make, trusting an unknown man with one of her most important possessions just because he wore a familiar uniform. Well, live and learn. She had let herself get soft. She sighed. Unwrapping the ration bar, she handed it to Erik. He nibbled a corner and then made a face, handing it right back to her. Shrugging, Lilah slid down to the ground, her back to the wall. Erik climbed into her lap, and she stroked his hair while taking a bite of the ration bar.

  “Where’s Mommy?” Erik asked, his voice high and trembling.

  Lilah’s breath caught for a second. Jenna, where are you? Erik needs you. I need you, she thought desperately.

  “We’ll find her,” Lilah promised aloud, brushing Erik’s hair back from his forehead. “We have to hide from the bad guys for a while, and then we’ll go to your daddy. OK?”

  Erik didn’t speak again. Within minutes she glanced down at the warm body nestled into her chest and realized that he had fallen asleep. At least someone was going to get some rest. He probably needed it too.

  The night was long and uncomfortable. Erik slept for hours, though he twisted and turned and moaned. Lilah merely managed to doze off for a few minutes at a time before a sound, either from the open window or from Erik, would jolt her back into consciousness. One time she heard loud voices in the street arguing over something she couldn’t quite make out. It was followed by an echoing gun shot and then nothing but scuffling and grunting. She’d almost woken Erik and shifted to hide deeper in the basement, but then the minor scrabbling noises had faded away without coming any nearer to the window. It had kept her awake and on edge for the next hour, but no one approached the burned-out shell of a house.

  She needed a plan. As best she could remember, she was at least ten blocks away from the Quintan Edge, possibly even farther. That was ten blocks of avoiding any of the locals who would see her as easy prey, ten blocks of convincing a young, strong-willed kid to walk, and ten blocks of hoping that none of their unknown enemies found her first. That was the most frustrating part. She knew without a sliver of doubt that Lev Quintan had his officers scouring the area for them, but how could she trust any of them after Kozel?

  And what had happened to Zane?

  She’d avoided thinking about him at all until this point. Zane had sacrificed himself so that she could escape with Erik. As best she could tell, he’d successfully stopped the kidnappers from coming after her and Erik. Had he survived?

  Lilah realized suddenly that she had started to consider Zane a friend. She’d let him in; despite all her adamant wall-building, she’d trusted him and let him see some of who she really was . . . and now he might be gone. She might never see him again.

  So much loss. She didn’t know if she could handle it all. Her mother, her father, Jenna and her girls, Damon, and now Zane. At what point did it become too much? At what point was a heart so splintered that it couldn’t recover? Why was she still fighting?

  Looking down at the dark, damp curls of the little boy snuggled into her chest, she answered her own question.

  Because there were still things worth fighting for.

  36. The Roran Village

  The village appeared without warning. One minute Jenna was stumbling through the endless overgrown bushes that slapped at her arms and face, and the next she was standing in a wide clearing filled with clusters of huts made of warped, bowed wooden planks and roofs of layered fronds. People were everywhere, carrying wood and fronds, shoveling mud, and carrying baskets of produce. They wore roughly woven cloth in the simplest of styles, the colors unexpectedly bright shades of red, yellow, and blue, a startling contrast to the muted green, brown, and gray clothing that Merrin and Evan wore. There were children too, running and chasing one another. Apparently the village was in the middle of storm cleanup. As best as Jenna could tell, they had fared better than either Kip or the kidnappers. There were some Rorans replacing roofs on the huts, but she didn’t see any sign of mudslides or toppled trees.

  The minute that Merrin led their group into the clearing, the villagers froze, staring at the newcomers as if they had never seen other people before. Mothers darted for children and dragged them into huts, conversations immediately halted, and those carrying spears immediately raised them. Jenna wrapped a protective arm around Kendra. Merrin ignored it all, moving forward swiftly and confidently down the muddy expanse that led down the center of the huts. Kip led Lenata next. He shot an encouraging look back at Jenna, and she tried to square her shoulders and follow confidently for Kendra’s sake. It wouldn’t help anything for her daughter to know just how terrified she was.

  As soon as their group passed the villagers, the low murmur of voices rose behind them. Some were excited, some sounded fearful. Jenna hoped none of them were too angry.

  “Mommy,” Kendra whispered. “I’m scared. Dina won’t talk to me.”

  She tightened her hand around Kendra’s. “It’s going to be all right. We just need to talk these people into letting us go home.” Of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy. These Rorans had made a whole secret life for themselves out here, she realized as they passed what could only be a large press of some kind. The people turning it had fled, leaving the unknown purple fruit half squashed and juice still dribbling into the trough.

  It didn’t take long to reach what must have been the central meeting house of the village. Unlike the huts, it was a long, low lodge built out of stone, with smooth peaked roofs that looked like metal painted green with rusty patches where the paint had worn o
ff. It had deep recessed windows and double doors in the front that stood open. Two men in green and brown stood guard outside the doors.

  Merrin led them right to the guards and stopped.

  “Merrin,” the one on the left greeted tersely, his face expressionless. The other guard stared at them with hard eyes, his posture stiff and his hands gripping his spear so tightly that his knuckles whitened. Jenna swallowed nervously and glanced down at Kendra. Her daughter had pressed up against her again, and Jenna could feel her trembling.

  “These Outsiders came across the Sauro. I bring them to the Council to be judged.”

  “A runner has already been dispatched,” the guard replied. “Take them inside and wait.”

  Merrin led them inside, and Jenna blinked, her eyes trying to adjust to the dim light. When her vision cleared, she could see that the building had only one long open room, with rows of rough-hewn benches. Merrin led them all the way to the far end of the lodge, where a railing made up of skinny bamboo-like slats surrounded a raised platform. There were five high-backed metal captain’s chairs, the kind one would see on an older-model Armada troop transport ship. As a child, Jenna had sat in chairs just like that on a school tour of the ships at Dos Cientos. They were even padded with the foam cushion seat rests and backs, faded to a muted pink instead of the bright maroon that Jenna remembered.

  Where had they gotten chairs like that?

  A harsh, discordant bell began to clang outside. Jenna counted five peals; they were loud enough inside the building that she expected the whole village could hear it. Were they calling people together? Would this “judging” be public? Her question was answered within minutes as people began to file in the doors at the back, making their way into the benches. There were no children. Nor were there any young adults present. In fact, the youngest woman that Jenna spotted was probably older than herself.

  It felt like an eternal wait for the villagers to fill all the benches, though in reality it was probably only about twenty minutes. Jenna faced the people entering the room, Kendra tucked into her right side and Kip standing on her left. Lenata stood proudly, her back turned to everyone, her unseeing eyes on the chairs on the stand. Jenna wondered if the people here remembered Lenata—if she had family in this gathering who would stand up for her. Was her mother here somewhere? Or her father? If Jenna had run away from Dos Cientos and later returned, a prodigal child wandering back to her home territory, no matter how long she had been gone, she knew both her parents would welcome her with rejoicing arms. After all, if Andie ever made it back to Zenith, her parents would move seas and skies and moons to be there and take her back in. Wouldn’t Lenata’s family feel the same? Or was leaving the village here such a terrible betrayal that she could never be forgiven? Jenna hoped not. They desperately needed some allies.

  When the room was full, a group of five people wearing fine long robes of blue entered the doors. Three men and two women, all of them with gray or white hair and deeply lined faces. It was hard to tell how old they were. They walked strongly and without hesitation, no sign of age in their free movements. They walked in single file up to the where Jenna and her companions stood and filed past them, moving up onto the platform and standing in front of the chairs without even glancing their way. As they passed, Kip swiveled to face them, and Jenna turned also, though Kendra was distracted and didn’t move. When Jenna glanced down at her daughter, Kendra was staring wide-eyed out over the people in the audience. What did she see that no one else could? Or was she listening to “Dina” again? Jenna suppressed a shudder of dread and turned back to the front to see that four of the apparent leaders had sat in the captain’s chairs. One of the women stood at the front of the platform, her silver hair coiled in braids pinned to her scalp in an intricate design. Jenna noted curiously that the fabric of her robe was far finer than anything she had seen on any of the regular villagers. The robe had small, beautiful designs in gold embroidered on the front panels. How had they made such a thing in the jungle? Was this another item that Kip had helped them trade for?

  The woman held up one hand, and the low muttering that filled the lodge died away completely. Then she spoke, her voice deep and gravelly. “Why has the Council been called together?” she said distinctly, her voice carrying through the room.

  Merrin stepped directly in front of the silver-haired woman and turned her face up. “We bring Outsiders who have crossed the Sauro to be judged of the Council.”

  The woman nodded exaggeratedly so even those in the very back of the lodge could see it. “Bring them before us that we may examine them.”

  Evan took Lenata by the upper arm and led her into the middle of the open space in the front. Then he jerked his head at Kip. Kip glanced back at Jenna once, his eyebrows raised and his mouth quirked upward in a half smile. What the man had to be amused about, Jenna had no idea, but she threaded her fingers through Kendra’s and moved over to stand next to him.

  “I am Vanda Voelker, head of the Council that governs the Roran people,” the woman in the embroidered blue robe said as her gaze moved from Lenata across to Kendra. “To cross the Sauro River without permission of our village is worthy of death. What do you have to say in your defense?” she asked sternly.

  Lenata stepped forward. “I brought them here,” she said loudly, her voice betraying no anxiety at all. “We were being pursued by Raviners and had no other choice.”

  The councilwoman named Vanda looked down at Lenata, and Jenna caught a fleeting glance of something cross the woman’s face, though it was gone too quickly for her to get a read on what it might be. When she spoke her voice was completely level and even.

  “Lenata Topaz.” She paused for a moment. A few whispers behind them, but Jenna couldn’t make them out. Obviously they knew her. “That only makes the crime far graver. You have led hostile Raviners to our village?” She turned to Merrin, eyebrows raised.

  “They did not cross the river. The rope bridge was cut in time,” Merrin explained, a touch defensively.

  A ripple of reaction passed through the crowd. Jenna didn’t turn to look, but she could tell the villagers were not happy with the idea of Raviners just on the other side of their river. One of the men in the chairs stood. “Sule!” he called loudly. Jenna twisted backward, looking over the villagers. A man rose in the back row.

  “We need a patrol on the banks of the Sauro. Increase our watch until we are certain these Raviners will not follow or until they are eliminated,” he ordered firmly. The man bowed slightly and then hurried from the lodge. The councilman resumed his seat, gesturing to Vanda, who directed her stern gaze back to Lenata again.

  “I would have brought them anyway. Well, the girl at least,” Lenata continued. Vanda raised one eyebrow, and Jenna suddenly realized that she had seen that same expression on Lenata’s face before. Was it possible?

  “And what might be so important about this girl that you would return from exile and risk death to do so?” Vanda asked, her voice dropping lower at the end. In that moment, Jenna was sure. This woman was related to Lenata. Perhaps even her mother. And far from being overjoyed, she was dismayed to find Lenata here.

  Lenata took a deep breath. “She is a Speaker,” she stated clearly.

  There was a chorus of gasps from the villagers.

  Vanda’s face drained of color. “What?” she whispered hoarsely.

  The other woman seated behind her rose. “Can it be true? Another Speaker? After decades of waiting?” Her eyes were shining with excitement and hope. She fixed a hungry gaze on Kendra. Jenna felt a sudden, irrational urge to step in front of her daughter and shield her.

  “What proof do you have that she is a Speaker?” asked the man seated in the very middle with a frown. He was taller than all the rest, and probably older. His shiny dark head was completely bald, and unlike the others, he had a deeply furrowed brow and lined cheeks.

  Lenata glanced their di
rection once, as if wondering how much she could say in front of Jenna. Or maybe she was worried about hiding from the Council that she had been working for a criminal gang engaged in kidnapping for ransom. Then she spoke to the Council again. “She can talk to the planet herself and receive physical manifestations. She called on the wind and brought down trees to defend herself. She also managed to overload the circuits of five medical capsules at once, completely destroying their ability to function.”

  The whispers turned into outright chattering. Vanda raised her hand, and after a moment there was silence again. “Those are indeed unusual signs, consistent with a potential Speaker. Especially the destruction of the technology, which is consistent with the desires of The Planet.” Jenna could hear the emphasis in those two words. Apparently these Rorans thought that the planet was an actual sentient being that could communicate with certain people. Jenna bit her lip. That was crazy, but everyone had long known the Rorans were crazy. But her fears were almost as bad—invisible alien beings who could control the elements? Was it possible? Or was she imagining things, letting the stress of the situation make her see meaning in random coincidences?

  “Do you have anything else to add?” Vanda asked, her tone still grave.

  “Only that I thought the possibility of a Speaker worth all the risks I took. There was no way to bring her here without the others as well.” Jenna felt sick at the confirmation that Lenata really had only meant to rescue Kendra to deliver her as a prize to someone else. She wondered why Lenata had bothered bringing her along too. Probably so Kendra would cooperate.

  Vanda was silent for a moment and then turned to Kip. “Kip Vanhorn. Do you have anything to say in your defense? You also knew that you did not have permission to cross the river.”