The Severed Tower

by J. Barton Mitchell

  “And how long will that take?”

  “An hour, probably.”

  Ravan’s eyes thinned in thought. “If these things are moving, how long will the path be safe?”

  Mira was surprised. People didn’t immediately catch that wrinkle. Menagerie or not, Ravan was smarter than most.

  “I don’t know,” Mira admitted. “All depends on the spheres. Long enough, hopefully. Never tried moving through a group this large.” Of course, the reality was, she’d never moved anyone through the Grindhouse, but she didn’t mention that.

  Mira forced herself not to think about it. She had to do this. Zoey and Holt were depending on her. This was a first ring Anomaly, it would be no problem as long as she took it slow. The thoughts, however, felt hollow.

  Mira pulled out the tools she’d need from the waist pack: a notepad and pencil; a mass of metal pegs strung together with red wire; a small hammer; and a leather pouch full of nuts and washers.

  “Hold your men here,” Mira told Ravan. “Keep them on the highway.”

  Mira started to move ahead, but Ravan grabbed her arm. “Make sure you know what you’re doing, little one. I lose any of my men because of a mistake you made, you won’t like the results.”

  A stirring of emotion filled Mira. Not because of the implied threat, but because of what it reminded her of. Instinctively, her eyes looked at one of the white pillars of light in the distance, but then she pushed the thoughts away. She had to be strong.

  “As I said,” Mira told her, “I’ve never moved a group this big. Far as I know, no one has. The Strange Lands isn’t the Barren, it has a million ways to kill you. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you make it to Polestar with half your men, but you should have known that. And if you kill me, the farther in we are, the less chance you have of getting out.” Mira ripped her arm free and stepped toward the Anomaly. Ravan didn’t say anything more.

  Mira opened the leather pouch and grabbed a handful of nuts and washers, staring at the dense field of ruined cars that stretched into the dark.

  So it was finally here. What she’d been dreading since leaving Midnight City—facing a Stable Anomaly on her own. Her hands shook, and she clenched them tightly before anyone behind her could see.

  Damn it, it’s just the Grindhouse, she told herself. She’d been through it a hundred times. She was good, she was skilled. So … why didn’t she believe it?

  Whatever the answer, it didn’t matter. She didn’t have a choice.

  Mira put the pencil to the notepad and started drawing. A grid, ten-by-ten squares, with a rough map of the freeway and the cars in front of her. She only drew the immediate ones now; anything in front of that, the perspective was distorted. She had to wait until she got closer.

  When she was done, she knelt on the ground and pulled something else from her pocket. It was her stopwatch, tarnished and old, but it worked flawlessly. The sight of it was comforting. She and it had been through a lot.

  Her hand froze on the watch. It was now or never.

  She took a breath … and clicked a button. The watch clicked as it began to count time. Mira hung its cord around her neck, then threw one of the washers forward into the air.

  It traveled just a few feet before it was yanked hard right and disappeared in a flash of energy as the Condenser Sphere flared to life, lighting up the night.

  She marked its location on the pad, then threw another washer. Another sphere flared brightly, this one closer, and she felt the slight tingle of static electricity before it vanished out of sight again.

  She marked it, too, then hammered in one of the metal pegs through the asphalt at her feet.

  Mira tried to stay calm. She could do this. Another breath …

  … and she moved forward into the blank air between the two invisible Condensers just feet on either side of her.

  The hair on her arms stood on end from the Spheres’ proximity. It was the only indication of the hovering death surrounding her. But she’d routed it correctly. It was only the first step into the Anomaly, but it filled her with relief all the same.

  Mira knocked another peg into the asphalt then started the process all over, throwing more nuts and washers, finding the flaring Spheres, marking their locations, moving forward in a zigzag pattern between the Anomalies and the cars, and laying down pegs and red wire to mark the route.

  Time seemed to slow, but her heart never stopped beating wildly. Eventually, she found herself so far ahead that the flashlights from the Menagerie were just pinpricks of light behind her.

  Mira threw another washer. This time nothing happened. She threw another. The same result. She threw a handful of nuts in a cloud in front of her. There was nothing but blank air now, no giant crackling spheres of deadly light.

  Mira exhaled and looked down at the stopwatch. Fifty-four minutes. Not bad, she thought, even Ben had done it slower a few times. But it wasn’t over. Now was the most dangerous part.

  She turned and headed back into the Anomaly, following her path of metal pegs and red wire back through. Each step was nerve-racking. What if she laid it wrong? What if she miscalculated? Figuring out the drift of Condenser Spheres required a lot of math. She kept moving, one foot after the other. She could see Ravan ahead, sitting on the hood of an old pickup, her men nearby. Mira concentrated on seeming confident, on looking like she actually wasn’t—

  The hair on her arms stood up. A Condenser Sphere flared to life right next to her.

  Mira gasped but froze in place like she’d been taught. In a Stable Anomaly like this, going still was the best idea if something went wrong. And something was definitely wrong. The gleaming ball of energy was literally only a few inches from her shoulder. She felt her heart thudding in her chest.

  Mira swallowed, staying as still as she could, and looked down at her notebook. She could see which Condenser this was, and there was supposed to be another to her right, about five feet away.

  Slowly, very slowly, Mira took a step in that direction. The flickering sphere disappeared as she did, fading away to nothing. Nothing materialized on her right. She was back in the safe zone.

  She exhaled, knelt, picked up the peg and moved it about a foot over.

  Her heart continued to pound, and she felt a surge of doubt and fear that replaced any sense of victory she might have felt before. How did she think she could do this? Mira forced herself to stand and move forward again, following the rest of the path. No other Condensers appeared, the rest of the route was safe. For now.

  Ravan hopped off the car as she approached, and Max lazily opened an eye. The damned dog had been napping the whole time.

  “Well?” Ravan asked.

  “It’s ready,” Mira said. She was surprised by how little her voice shook. “I just tested it, but we need to hurry. Tell your men to stagger their entry about twenty steps per person, and keep that distance. Walk, don’t run, and follow the path. Any deviation … and they’re dead.”

  “My men can be precise and fast,” Ravan replied. “We don’t have to stagger them that much. Might save us time.”

  Mira shrugged. “Your call. I’ll go last, follow behind and collect the pegs. If things go bad in there, that’s where I need to be.”

  Ravan gave her an unreadable look, then shouted for her men to line up, yelling instructions.

  In moments, the Menagerie were moving, filing past Mira and Ravan. Just like the Captain had said, they were making good time, following the path precisely. Ravan joined the line in the middle, walking into the Anomaly and disappearing into the dark.

  Mira looked at Max. “Come on, it’s our turn.”

  The dog looked back but didn’t move.

  Mira sighed. “Look, mutt, this is dangerous,” she told him. “I have to hold your collar. You go running off course, you’ll get us both killed. If you want to see Holt again, you have to trust me.”

  Max stared back with a noncommittal look. Then he hopped off the Mercedes and stood next to Mira. She slowly reached down for
his collar. He stared up at her, but didn’t object when she grabbed it.

  Mira smiled. How about that. She moved forward after the pirates, and started down the path, stepping into the Anomaly after the others. The hair on her arms stood up again, and the effect felt stronger. But there was no way to know if it was just her imagination or if the Spheres really were closer.

  As she moved, she gathered the pegs from the ground, wrapping them up. Max walked next to her without complaint, and the Menagerie kept moving ahead, even faster than they had before. They were about three quarters of the way through, and, to her surprise, they hadn’t triggered a single sphere. Mira smiled, maybe they were going to make it out of this in one—

  The old mirror of a crashed motorcycle reflected bright light behind her.

  Mira turned and saw the Condenser Spheres flashing to life at the far end of the Anomaly, where they’d started. Had they left someone behind? No, she’d checked. The spheres were exploding to life, though, one after the other, and moving forward, which meant something was approaching and triggering them, as it did.

  A second later she saw what it was.

  A group of dark figures, maybe a dozen, rushing through the Anomaly at full speed. Flashes of different colored light glowed around them as they moved, and they weren’t just running, they were leaping and flipping through the air like gymnasts.

  “What the hell…” Ravan mumbled from ahead. The pirates froze and turned, staring behind them as the spheres continued to flare to life and the figures darted between them with almost superhuman agility. It implied a perception of the Anomalies that was like a sixth sense. And it could mean only one thing. A chill ran down Mira’s spine.

  “Ready weapons!” Ravan yelled, and the pirates instantly unstrapped and cocked their rifles.

  “No!” Mira shouted back desperately. “No guns!” If what was coming saw a threat, they would all be dead. But the pirates were raising their rifles anyway.

  The figures kept flipping forward, tumbling through the Anomalies in rapid-fire progression. They made it look easy. They made it look like a dance.

  It was breathtaking to watch.

  The Condensers continued to flash, lighting up the figures, and Mira made out the details she expected. They were dressed in black and gray—boots, pants, tucked-in shirts, vests with pockets, utility belts on their chests.

  Black masks were pulled up over their mouths and noses, and their eyes were covered by black goggles, so dark their wearers surely couldn’t see. It made the way they flipped through the Anomaly even more impressive. They were doing it blind.

  On their left hands, Mira could see the glowing colors of the rings they wore on their three middle fingers. Each wielded a long, spearlike weapon, with glowing crystals of different colors on either end shaped into points. The colorful marks of light streaked through the air as they quickly leaped closer.

  They were White Helix.

  Mira ducked instinctively as the first one used her weapon as a pole-vaulter would, to flip over Mira’s head. A sphere roared to life next to her. Max howled and Mira tightened her grip, trying to stop him from leaping forward.

  Two Menagerie weren’t so lucky. They stumbled backward. A sphere flashed to life; their screams were ripped away as they were yanked inside. They vanished, but not so fast that you couldn’t make out their bodies being crushed into unrecognizable things the size of thimbles.

  That was all it took. Mira saw it coming. “No!” she shouted.

  But it was too late. The Menagerie opened fire, their guns flashing and lighting up the night.

  The Helix adjusted instantly, spun in different directions, some in midair, in flashes of orange and purple light.

  The rings they wore were made from Antimatter Crystals, the remnants of the colorful lightning that flashed deeper inside the Strange Lands, and they had very unique properties. Touching them in different combinations could manipulate gravity, inertia, or momentum. It let their owners do death-defying things.

  The black-clad figures dodged the gunfire easily, as if everything but them was moving in slow motion, weaving through the flaring Condensers as they did.

  Another Menagerie lost his balance and stumbled forward. He screamed as a Condenser Sphere flashed to life—and Mira shut her eyes tight as it sucked him inside.

  Ravan yelled for her men to cease fire. The guns flashed off.

  As they did, the strange figures landed on the ruined cars and trucks and buses all around them. Their weapons, the strange double-pronged spears, lowered and leveled at the Menagerie. Mira could hear a slight humming fill the air from the weapons’ glowing crystals.

  “No one do anything!” Ravan yelled. She still had her gun raised, though—as did the rest of her men, sighting at the figures that knelt above them on the ruined cars.

  It was a standoff. As dangerous as that was by itself, they were still standing inside the Grindhouse. Even though they couldn’t see them, the Condenser Spheres were drifting, and they were running out of time.

  14. WHITE HELIX

  THE WHITE HELIX CROUCHED on top of the cars, their strange double-pronged spear weapons pointing downward at the Menagerie.

  Mira prayed no one moved. The strange, goggled figures might be outnumbered three to one, but they were White Helix, which meant they could kill every single one of them if things went bad.

  Mira saw the pendants on their necks now—white ones, two strands of cord twisting around each other, with thin bars in between them. It made what was called a double helix, a symbol typically associated with DNA, and Mira had never understood why they chose it as their symbol.

  The White Helix were a cult, for lack of a better description. They kept to themselves, deep back in the inner rings of the Strange Lands, and they had an almost supernatural sense and understanding of it. They could do amazing things: leap incredibly high; flip through the air; accelerate their movements—all by using the glowing rings on their left hands. Their spears were called Lancets, Mira knew, and their points were made of the same crystals. Supposedly, they could pierce solid steel, but she had never seen it for herself.

  No one knew exactly how many Helix there were, but some guessed it could be in the thousands. Hundreds of survivors tried to reach the cult every year, but Mira had a feeling very few made it. To join the White Helix, you had to prove your dedication. And you did it by looking for them. If you could survive the Strange Lands on your own and make it to a certain ruined city in the second ring, the stories said the Helix would find you. What happened after that, Mira could only guess.

  They were highly skilled fighters, which implied a great deal of training, and that had never made much sense. Why train to fight in the Strange Lands, where there wasn’t much use for it? And how did they get so skilled so quickly? From all accounts, the White Helix fought and did things as though they had been studying and training for a lifetime. But they were a reclusive group, and their secrets were their own.

  One of them, between Mira and Ravan, slowly stood up on top of a rusted pickup. A small, black girl, with an easy grip on her Lancet. From this distance, Mira saw what looked like triggers on either end of the shaft, as if for a gun. Could the Helix fire those crystals like projectiles? The thought was unpleasant, especially with them all pointed in her direction.

  Ravan’s gun tracked to the girl.

  “Don’t,” Mira warned. “They’ll kill us all.”

  The black girl lifted off her goggles and looked at Mira. Like Ravan and herself, the girl’s eyes were clear of the Tone. And they sparkled in a way that suggested a smile under her mask.

  “You should listen to her,” the girl said. “Freebooters don’t belong in this place—but at least they understand it.” Her eyes focused on Mira in an uncomfortable way. “And yours seems to know enough to fear it, too.”

  Mira instinctively hid her shaking hands behind her back. Was it that obvious?

  “But you,” the girl said with disdain, looking at Ravan. “Menager
ie scum. You understand nothing.”

  Ravan’s glare intensified. “I understand you killed three of my men.” Her voice was harsh. Whatever the girl might be—pirate, thief, or murderer—she valued the lives of her crew. “And you’ll pay for that, one way or another.”

  The Helix shook her head. “Is it my fault if Menagerie lose their balance?”

  The pirates’ grip on their rifles tightened. The Helix crouched perfectly still, their eyes unreadable behind the black goggles.

  “I won’t threaten you back,” the girl said, “there’s no need. This land will kill you all on its own.”

  For the first time in the exchange, Ravan smiled. “Surviving’s kind of my strong suit. I plan on being around a long, long time.”

  The girl nodded as if she expected the answer. “That’s why everyone like you is destroyed here. The only way to survive this place, the only true way … is to accept that it will eventually kill you.”

  Mira watched the Helix girl shut her eyes in concentration and calmly reach outward. A Condenser Sphere flared to life in bright, crackling energy right next to her, lighting up the night. Max whined, and Mira held on tight, keeping him in place.

  “In this place, you’re already dead,” the girl said, eyes closed. She ran her hands around the perimeter of the pulsating sphere, almost touching it, keeping it flared and visible, courting death. An inch or two more and that would be it. “Once you accept that, the fear no longer holds any power over you.”

  If only, Mira thought bitterly. The girl withdrew her hand and the Sphere vanished, blending back into the night.

  “You wanna die?” Ravan seemed unimpressed. “I can accommodate that before any of your friends fire their pointy little sticks. I know a rifle when I see it, no matter how silly it looks.”

  The girl smiled. “Killing us only makes the rest grow stronger.” At her words, the other White Helix nodded silently in agreement.

  Ravan’s eyes narrowed. So did Mira’s. The Helix were definitely an eccentric bunch. They revered the Strange Lands, saw it and its artifacts as holy. Some thought they even saw the Severed Tower as a manifestation of God, but no one Mira knew had ever asked one. Freebooters and White Helix didn’t exactly get along. The Helix saw them as intruders on sacred land, vultures who picked it clean of divine artifacts. It meant, if the cult came across Freebooters, things tended to get violent. There was no way to know how many had died at the hands of White Helix, but Mira guessed it was no small number.