The Boys of Fire and Ash

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The Boys of Fire and Ash Page 22

by Meaghan McIsaac


  The other boys in the Temple, they were in white, but Krepin had Cubby dressed in blue. He was different, singled out, it was right there in front of my face. I’d seen Krepin’s eyes, the way they lit up when I said Cubby’s name. I thought of the new one he’d given my Little Brother, Linerk, the way he looked at the little boy from the Ikkuma Pit—not with menace. There had been pride.

  No. Please. Not Cubby.

  I opened my eyes, and the world was blurry; I had to steady myself on my hands and knees to make the spinning stop. My throat burned with bile.

  Krepin was never going to give Cubby back. He was going to use his blood to make himself more powerful.

  Lussit was awake now, all my movement disturbing her slumber. She placed a warm hand on my back. “Urgle?”

  “I have to go for him,” I said.

  “What?”

  I forced myself to my feet, nearly throwing up.

  It was just like Blaze’s baby.

  Krepin would keep Cubby.

  I had to stop him.

  THIRTEEN

  I took off into the trees, stumbling as best I could in the direction of the thundering falls.

  Lussit’s voice called after me. “Urgle!”

  But I kept going. Krepin didn’t want her. Krepin didn’t want Serin. He wanted Cubby. He’d always wanted Cubby.

  I crashed through the thick brush and mud, not caring about how loud I was being, not caring about the thorns and switches cutting my arms and legs and face. Every moment wasted was another moment Krepin was with Cubby.

  “Urgle, please!” Lussit’s voice wasn’t far behind me, twigs and sticks crunching under her feet. “Please stop!”

  But I didn’t stop. I only went faster. He’d lied to me. And I’d let him! Blaze was right, I shouldn’t have left Cubby there. But I did! And I’d run around the mountains on this—

  I let out a scream, so loud and bloody I thought my throat might rip.

  The mission! Why send me? Because I was useless! I should have died! I would have died if it hadn’t been for Lussit. And then who would come for Cubby? No one. There’d be no one to save him.

  Krepin sent me to get rid of me!

  And then another scream. But this one wasn’t mine.

  Lussit.

  I stopped and listened. She was grunting and struggling somewhere not far behind me. “Urgle, please!”

  I would have died if it hadn’t been for Lussit.

  I made my way back through the brush and there she was, waste deep in the mud. I stood at the edge of the sinkhole.

  Her face lit up when she saw me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I growled. Her head tilted to the side and she said nothing. “About the baby! About Rawley!”

  Her eyes dropped and she shook her head. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  “It does matter! Krepin thinks he can use Cubby!”

  Her mouth hung open, and her wide eyes watched me as her skin went pale. “What?”

  “He thinks Cubby is like Belphoebe’s baby! He thinks Cubby can complete his powers!” I broke a branch off a nearby tree and thrust it out towards her. She just stayed there, staring at me, her open mouth quivering.

  “Take it!” I snapped.

  She jumped at the force in my voice and carefully took hold of the stick.

  With a violent yank I pulled her towards me until her waist was free.

  “He doesn’t want you,” I told her as she lay there at my feet. “I’m going for Cubby on my own.”

  And with that, I stormed away back into the Baublenotts.

  “Urgle, wait!” she called. She got to her feet, her beautiful robes stained a hideous Baublenott black, and followed. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Go back to Av,” I said, moving forward. “Let them know what’s happening.”

  I felt bad for just leaving him, for not telling him what I was doing. But there wasn’t any time. Cubby needed me now, and Krepin wasn’t going to let him go. How could Av help? No, this was up to me.

  “You can’t just go to Krepin on your own,” she said. “They won’t even let you into the Temple. You need me!”

  “I don’t!” I shouted, and stepped up to her face. She stopped suddenly, gasping as I towered over her. She took a step back and I felt a sudden wave of shame. I’d come at her like she was Fiver making me angry. What was I going to do? Hit her? I wasn’t mad at her. I was mad at myself. I should never have left that Temple without Cubby. I sighed and turned away, making my way towards the sound of the falls. “Just go back, Lussit. Av will be worried.”

  But she didn’t go back.

  She let me get a good distance ahead of her, and then she followed. She made no secret of being behind me, just gave me a lot of space and tried as hard as she could to keep up.

  I should have told her to go back. I should have been mad that she didn’t listen. But to tell the truth, I felt better knowing she was there.

  The screams of the Tunrar were louder by the afternoon, and the rush of the water was a droning, ear-numbing thunder that told me we were near the falls. We’d made it back to the Temple.

  I crouched on the banks of the river, hidden by the undergrowth, while Lussit sat farther back, pretending she wasn’t there at all. “Might as well come out,” I called to her. “No sense hiding.”

  I didn’t need to tell her twice, and she hurried out from her spot to join me on the bank.

  Lussit lost her breath when she finally laid eyes on the giant colorful building standing tall in the middle of the violent current. She drank it in as though she’d been starving all her life for a sight like this. “It’s so beautiful.”

  I didn’t say anything. It had overwhelmed me too, the last time I was here. But now, it was just like the ugly, stagnant pools of the Baublenotts: dark and evil, full of nothing but filth and rot.

  “How do we get to it?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “We don’t get to anything. I told you, Krepin won’t want you.”

  “Yes, he will,” she said. “I’m the leader of the Belpheban faith; he would love nothing more than to get his hands on me, I promise you.”

  “He just wants Cubby,” I insisted.

  “Fine!” she snapped. It was the first time I’d ever seen her react with anything but patience, kindness, and understanding. I was surprised. “So he wants Cubby. Do you really think he’s going to be happy to let you in, just you by yourself? I’m telling you, he’ll want me too. I’m your only way in those doors.” She grabbed my hand and I suddenly found it hard to swallow. “So, how do we get to it?”

  She waited for me to answer and I realized how much alike she and Av were. She was so ready to risk everything just to help someone else. She was selfless, just like her brother.

  “No,” I said. Seeing the water again and remembering how we’d barely made it last time, I couldn’t imagine Lussit making it across. “We don’t have the boat. I can’t ask you to swim that.”

  Lussit let go of my hand and she looked angry. She had the exact same frown as Av.

  “It’s too dangerous,” I tried. “You don’t know what that water is like.”

  “I’m not afraid of the water.”

  “You should be.”

  But what to do with her? She was here, with me. Av would be losing his mind with worry. He was probably already on his way, following the obnoxious trail of destruction we’d left. It wouldn’t be long before he found us.

  “Just wait here for Av,” I told her. “He and Fiver will be here soon, they’ll take care of you.”

  “Urgle,” she said with that tone she’d used on Farka, that all-commanding, all-knowing tone. “I’ve told you I’m going.”

  A sound fell out of my mouth, a sound like ugh, and still crouched by the water, I rubbed my chin in my hand. That voice may have made her sound like some kind of holy authority to her sisters, but to me she just sounded foolish.

  Then the splash.

  I looked back to where she’d been standing and
Lussit was gone, her blanket dangling on a low tree branch.

  “Lussit!” I shouted.

  The white water flew by and I followed it towards the falls, waiting for her head to pop up, my stomach heaving as I waited to watch her go over.

  Then I saw her.

  Lussit came up, sputtering and coughing until she was swallowed again.

  Her head reappeared, but farther down the river this time. She was fighting the current, and she was losing.

  I leaped in. I had to get to her.

  The water was the same as it was the last time we’d battled—unfairly strong, undecided about my fate—and I thrashed with all my might as I tried to keep my eyes on Lussit.

  “Lussit!” I screamed, before a gush of water strangled my voice.

  Finally, my thrashing arms connected with hers and I grabbed hold of her with one hand. She coughed and gasped and her extra weight pulled me under, but I kept fighting. She kicked and punched too, wildly flailing her limbs against the raging torrent. It was no use. My arms were too weak to carry us both against the push of the water, Lussit’s kicks too feeble against the pull. I kept on trying, every reach and pull burning, and I could hear the water laughing at me, only tickled by my effort. My eyes broke the surface and I could see splintered wood just ahead of me. We were cutting through, somehow. It was no thanks to me. I could feel it. Our muscles were no match for this. I became aware of something wrapped around the two of us, gently holding us against the current. I reached out in front of me and I felt the wood under my fingertips. We’d made it to the docks. I grabbed hold and Lussit and I sat there in the raging water, desperately trying to catch our breaths.

  “What happened?” I coughed.

  Lussit ignored me, greedily breathing the air. I don’t think she knew what I meant. I wasn’t sure I knew what I meant.

  “The water,” she shouted finally, raising her voice over the sound of the river, “it carried us!”

  I felt the force of the current pushing against me, wanting to carry me away. The water didn’t carry us because it couldn’t. It was like Blaze’s story, like the water at Krepin’s feet. It carried us because it was asked to.

  The wide grin on Lussit’s face was infectious and I smiled even though I was afraid of what came next. If she had the power to ask the water to carry us, then I was grateful.

  “Come on,” Lussit told me. She lifted her leg over the railing of the jostling wooden walkway and stepped onto the marble steps of the Beginners’ Temple.

  “Wait!” I shouted, clambering over the railing to get to her.

  She stood there, her soaked hair clinging to her neck and back, drops of water catching the sunlight on her face. My whole body was wet, but my throat was so dry with fear I could barely talk. “I don’t—” I dropped my head, unable to look her in the eye. “I don’t know how to protect you from him.”

  She smiled and bent down to find my eyes. She grabbed my hand. “Just don’t let go.”

  FOURTEEN

  Without ever having knocked, the giant gold doors swung open with a loud bang, and the melted face of Gorpok Juga stood before us, smiling and laughing. Behind her was a barrage of other Beginners, from old and withered to young Passages like Cubby. I scanned their faces for his toothless grin, but he wasn’t there.

  “Ikkuma! You have returned!” cried Gorpok Juga. “But where is you friends, ah?”

  “I’m alone,” I told her, my voice steady and aggressive. I heard Blaze in my head: short answers. I didn’t listen to him the first time. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake.

  She laughed. “You lie already, Ikkuma. I see you have new friend.”

  I felt the warmth of Lussit’s hand in mine and my heart began to pound in my chest. I had to be extremely careful. It wasn’t just Cubby relying on me now—I had Lussit too.

  “I want to see Krepin,” I told the old woman. “We have to discuss Cubby.”

  “You have Belpheban Head?”

  Lussit’s grip on my hand tightened. She had her head down and stood just behind me, struggling to keep her balance as the water spilled over our shins. She was sopping wet and breathing fast. She was nervous.

  “I will only discuss that with Krepin.”

  “You speak to me first,” she snapped.

  “Fine,” I told her, annoyed that she couldn’t take me seriously. “Then we’ll just be on our way and you can explain to Aju Krepin why you let the Sacred Innocent of the Belpheban faith return to her people.”

  Gorpok Juga’s pink eyes widened and she looked at Lussit, who was sopping wet and shaking. I held my breath and thought about running, thought about yelling at her to leap in the water and swim with all her might. The truth was out, Juga knew who she was. I’d delivered Lussit right to them, which was the plan all along, Lussit’s plan, but as Gorpok Juga looked her over, my stomach knotted and I knew we’d made a mistake.

  Gorpok Juga descended the steps, the pounding water swamping her feet, and still the old hag maintained her balance. The power of the river was nothing to Gorpok Juga. Her amused smile was gone and she was pursing her lips as she looked Lussit over. Lussit reached up to wipe the hair from her eyes but Gorpok Juga stopped her, snapping her hand over Lussit’s wrist with a sudden force that made a slapping sound. I nearly lunged at Gorpok Juga, but Lussit shot me a sideways glance that stopped me.

  Juga held tightly to Lussit’s wrist and then grabbed her delicate chin with her other hand.

  “I am what he says,” Lussit said, her voice calm and steady.

  “I am judge of that,” grunted Juga.

  She inspected Lussit’s neck, jawbone, face, and robes. Then she lifted Lussit’s sleeves to inspect her milky arms, the skin like soft eggshells next to the wrinkled mole-covered leather of Juga’s. I wanted to tell her to stop, to take her ugly hands off Lussit, but Lussit, still holding on to me, gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. Juga turned Lussit around and pressed her fingers firmly along Lussit’s spine. She grunted what I assumed was approval and then turned to her waiting entourage. She lifted her hands and yelled out something in a strange tongue that sent the group into a frenzy. They roared and cheered and several Tunrar rushed towards a terrified Lussit. I pulled her in behind me and prepared to fight the Tunrar, but the doorman from my last visit barked a command and the Tunrar stood down. The man came towards us, his spear at the ready, and I promised myself I wouldn’t let him take Lussit. But he didn’t want her. He grabbed me by the hair, his strong hand dragging me behind him.

  I held tight to Lussit but the man wrenched my arm away and I couldn’t hang on.

  Gorpok Juga let out a laugh. “You Ikkuma boys! Very helpful boys! First you give us traitor Blaze, now holy girl is for Krepin too!”

  Blaze. Because of me.

  “Urgle!” Lussit screamed as I clawed and dug at the man’s hand.

  “Lussit, run!” I shouted to her, but it was too late. The crowd rushed her, and she was swallowed up. They were all grabbing at her, pulling her along behind Gorpok Juga, who waddled down the passage that I knew led to Aju Krepin.

  I struggled and growled against the strength of the doorman’s hand, and I managed to dig my nails in and rip at his flesh. He scoffed and threw me in front of him, and I stumbled and fell to my knees. I got up as quickly as I could and spun to face him. I wanted to rip his face off, tackle him to the ground, and pummel him with everything I had in me, but I knew I’d lose that fight. He was a monster of a man, twice my height with the wide build of a boulder. He stared right back at me, spear pointed at my chest, his face a blank, completely disinterested. This was his job, and he didn’t care what happened to me. He wiggled the tip of his spear to tell me to keep going, and reluctantly I turned around and kept moving forward.

  We veered down hallway after hallway, and walked up a series of tight, leaky staircases until I was so turned around that I doubted I’d ever find my way out, let alone find Lussit.

  My nose burned as my eyes welled up. I’d let go of her.
>
  When we came to the end of yet another narrow, dark hallway, it opened up into a giant chamber. The small open windows that lined the top of the room let in little natural light, so it was dark, and the mist from the water that spilled in through several openings made it foggy and even harder to see. I could make out the colors, though. The stone walls were a vibrant sky blue and adorned with pictures and detailed patterns made with gold. Vines spread themselves along the frescoes, stretching to the windows, weaving through as though threading a natural tapestry.

  I stood staring up, my attention fixed on the twinkling specks that danced where the sunlight hit the walls in tiny patches. The man grabbed me by the hair again and dragged me to the right-hand side of the room, where a series of gold hoops lay strewn beneath the flowing water that trickled over the ornate red and gold tiled floor. With another strong shove he sent me to the floor and my hip slammed onto the hard stone. I waited there, soaking in the trickling water as he gathered up the metal hoops. He dragged me against the wall and I struggled and thrashed against his firm grip to no avail. In one swift motion he held me down and clamped one of the hoops tightly around my upper body, pinning my arms painfully to my sides. I struggled, but the hoop was so tight it kept my arms from moving much. Then he brought my hands together and clamped a tight gold hoop around them. Raising them just over my shoulder, he hooked them securely to the wall. It was an awkward position, and the hoops were so tight I could feel my arms starting to numb.

  He clamped a hoop around my knees and another around my feet.

  “I demand to speak to Aju Krepin!” I screamed, but the man just ignored me. He reached over my head for a round notch in the wall. He turned it and pulled and as soon as he did a spout of water gushed over my head and drenched me by surprise, water flooding my nose, eyes, and mouth. I spat and sputtered and screamed, “Aju Krepin!”

  The man made one last tug at my bound hands to make sure they were firmly secured to the wall, then, without so much as a glance in my direction, left me alone in the giant chamber.

  The water poured tirelessly over my face and it was cold; it wasn’t long before I was shivering. It poured over my eyes and into my mouth. I shook my head and spat, but every time I did, the water just poured in again. It tasted sweeter than water should, than the Baublenotts should. I tugged and pulled at my hands and desperately tried to flex the metal bands into loosening but they were too strong.

 

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