“I will be here,” the pilot replied. “Safe journeys.”
“Safe journeys,” Eva said, climbing up onto Otto.
Thunder threatened from above. Everyone looked up to see a large warship rumble overhead. Its immensity blotted out the morning sun, shadowing the forest in darkness. Several other warships followed in formation.
“They are heading toward Lacus,” Rovender said.
“We are too late,” added Hækel, with a sigh of defeat.
“Not yet,” Eva said, patting the water bear. “Otto, get us there as fast as you can. Okay?”
Hurry. Help. Go.
“Hold on tight,” Eva said as she crouched low and gripped the edge of the water bear’s plated scutes.
“I have almost forgotten how much I do not enjoy this,” Rovender said, joining her.
With a snap of his mighty tail, Otto shot up into the sky, carrying his riders toward Lacus.
CHAPTER 33: LACUS
From the shade of the forest, Otto stepped out onto a vast salt flat. The water bear hooted and sheared off a large patch of moss from a nearby tree. “Otto needs to take a break,” Eva said. “All this jumping has worn him out.”
“Fine with me,” Rovender replied, and stood up on Otto’s back. He pulled a spyglass from his supply pack and stood to scan the horizon. “Do you recognize our location?”
“Yes. We are at the flats, on the eastern side of the forest,” she said.
“That is correct. We are just south of Lake Concurs and Lacus.”
The mineral scent of the lake’s waters drifted past on the midday breeze. The scent took Eva back to the first time she’d journeyed out here with Rovender, Otto, and Muthr. Then they’d been searching for any sign of humans living on the planet. It seemed like such a long time ago.
Eva squinted in the direction Rovender was scanning with the spyglass. Clouds gathered over the lake, merging with the haze coming from the horizon. “Can you see Lacus? Are they okay?” she asked.
“No. We are still too far away,” Rovender replied. “Hmmmm.”
“What is it?”
“I see dust up ahead caused by movement. There is something heading toward the forest.” Rovender pointed.
“Cadmus?”
“It is difficult to say.” Rovender rubbed his whiskers in thought.
“There is only one way to find out,” Eva said.
Otto shuffled toward the movement, traveling in the shade of the tree line. By afternoon they’d arrived at the southern tip of the lake. And there they discovered the source of the dust clouds.
“Hostia! Fiscian!” Rovender jumped down and rushed toward the Halcyonus family. Like the Cærulean, the colorful residents of Lacus walked on backward-bending legs. But they were shorter in stature and adorned in decorative garb.
From high atop Otto’s back Eva gazed out at the shoreline of the lake. Hundreds of Halcyonus were streaming away from their fishing village. Each carried but a few items bundled in baskets and sacks strapped to their backs. Flocks of turnfins cried out from above as if lamenting the exodus. Behind them rose the towering knobby structures that made up the village. Hovering over the towers was a fleet of Cadmus’s polished warships, each reflecting the late day sun. Eva’s heart pounded, as if it were trying to escape her chest.
She slid down to the ground to help Hostia’s family and spied Zoozi, the youngest, clutching his wooden puppet. Zoozi ran and hid behind his mother. Hostia, Fiscian, and their older daughter, Mægden, stiffened as Eva approached them.
“This is so terrible,” Eva said. “Are you all okay?”
“We . . . are fines.” Hostia pulled Zoozi back, away from Eva. “What has happens to you?”
“I’ve been to the Heart of the forest. I—”
“There she is!” a Halcyonus screeched from both mouths. Eva turned to see an elderly crone jabbing a finger at her. The crone continued, “There is the harbinger of alls this!”
“Me?” Eva gasped. “I—I had nothing to do with the invasion.”
“You and your machines.” The crone’s eyes were fiery orange. “You broughts this on us. On all of us!”
“That is not true,” Rovender said.
“It is!” the crone countered. “And you delivered her to us, Rovenders!”
The exiled villagers now began to crowd around the crone. Eva backed up against Otto.
You. Me. Leave.
Not yet, Eva thought to her companion. We have to help them. They are scared.
A herd. Still.
Yes, they still have one another, despite their situation, she thought.
Tell. Them.
Eva climbed back onto Otto’s back. Halcyonus villagers were gathering in a noisy throng, surrounding Rovender.
“Listen!” Eva cried out. “Listen to me!”
The din of the crowd lowered. All orange eyes were now on Eva.
“I know you are scared, and I am sorry that this has happened. But believe me when I tell you that it was to happen whether I arrived at your village or not.”
“Who does this to us and why?” Hostia asked aloud. The gathering grumbled.
Eva swallowed. She knew the truth would upset them. Hostia and her family had been so kind to her. Rovender looked up at Eva and nodded.
“It is hard to say this, but the warships are from humans, like me,” Eva said. “They are planning to invade Solas.”
Eva waited for the retaliation—for an attack on her—but all the villagers remained silent. The looks on their exhausted, frightened faces said everything.
“I am here with Rovender to help you. He will lead you all to shelter in the forest, where we can shuttle you to anywhere you want to go.”
“Go? Where we wants to go?” Hostia said, exasperated. “Eva, our home is Lacus.”
“Your home is where your family is,” Eva replied. “Where someone waits for you and thinks about you.” She looked over at Rovender. “You all still have that.”
“And you?” Fiscian asked. “Have you found your family? Is this them that causes our fear and forces us from our homes?”
“They are like me, but I am not like them,” Eva replied.
The Halcyonus rumbled at this answer.
“I will go to Cadmus, the human leader, to try to end this.” Eva slid down to the ground and walked into the crowd. “You have no reason to trust me or my words, but listen in here”—Eva put her hand to her chest—“when I tell you I am going to do everything I can to get your village back.”
The crowd parted, and Eva walked along the shoreline toward the village. Rovender came up next to Eva and grabbed her wrist. “Are you sure about this? You have seen what those machines can do,” he said.
“I have to stop this,” said Eva. “Cadmus doesn’t know about the generator and the growing forest. And I still need to speak to Arius.”
Rovender knelt down on one knee and placed his hands on Eva shoulders. “What if they have gotten to Arius already? What if Cadmus does not wish to hear your words?”
“I have to, Rovee. I feel that this is what I have to do.” Eva forced an uncertain smile.
“Then Otto and I will accompany you,” Rovender replied.
“No. You and Otto should take the Halcyonus back to the shuttle. I know exactly how they feel right now—frightened, without shelter, and unsure of what’s to come. If anyone can guide and protect them, it is you. Otto will stay behind to help you. He’ll do whatever you ask, trust me,” said Eva. Somehow she felt better, as if speaking her plan aloud made her more committed.
Rovender held Eva in his arms for a long moment before speaking. “Please be careful. I do not know what I would do if I lost you.”
Eva hugged him close. “I’ll be okay.”
“Before you go, I want to give you something.” Rovender pulled off the frayed cord from around his waist.
“Your cord from the council?”
“As Antiquus’s son, I was next in line to be the leader of my village,” Rovender said as he ti
ed the cord around Eva’s waist. “But leadership is not inherited. It is earned through action. You are a leader, Eva Nine. A hero. And you are my WondLa.”
Eva embraced Rovender. “I love you, Rovee.”
“I love you too. Please return to me safe.”
“I will. I promise,” Eva said, and then she continued alone, along the shore, toward uncertainty.
CHAPTER 34: CONSUMED
The waves of Lake Concors lapped at Eva’s shoes while the wind twirled her long white hair. She was standing at the footbridge that led over the lake’s surface toward the first tower of Lacus. The enormous tower housed an entire community in stacked globular huts held high above the deep green waters. The tower was also connected to four others by a network of rope bridges and skywalks. In the evening sun hovered a fleet of warships casting a dark silhouette over Lacus. From the shoreline Eva could see that the ships were unloading cargo into the village.
A brightly colored blanket, abandoned by its owners, fluttered across the pebbly beach. Eva grabbed the blanket and wrapped herself in it, concealing her face. She stepped onto the footbridge and set off toward the first tower.
As she passed under the arched entryway, Eva was nearly knocked into the water by a rush of fleeing Halcyonus carrying an unconscious fisherman. The fisherman’s head lolled to one side, revealing the recognizable puncture wound of a SHOCdart in his neck.
Stopping for a moment, Eva closed her eyes, allowing her senses to run along into the homes in the first tower. She could feel the presence of Halcyonus everywhere—their panic and confusion. Just ahead of her she sensed another creature’s fear.
Still tethered to the boards of a swaying footbridge, a fisherman’s turnfin let out a lonely cry. Eva untied the leash from the bird’s neck. “It’s okay. You can join your flock now,” she whispered, and dropped the leash to the planked walk.
“Before you leave,” Eva said, stroking the turnfin’s sleek head, “can you fly up and tell me which bridge would be safest to take?”
The turnfin squawked and flew out over the tower.
Eva continued on her way, rounding the gigantic piling of the first tower. Within the tower she could hear people shouting and machines grinding. Quickly the sounds were interrupted by the staccato of weapons firing.
Fly closest to the water. The turnfin’s message drifted into Eva’s mind.
“Thank you, friend,” she whispered to the lone bird circling high above. Eva stepped onto a swaying rope bridge that sagged into the water before connecting to the second tower. She trod along the thin planks of the bridge and watched a group of villagers retreat in the skywalks above. I hope I can get to Arius in time, she thought. She could sense that the soothsayer was still in the village.
Eva was halfway across the bridge when she heard the explosion from the first tower. She spun around to see a warbot standing in a gaping hole where, just moments before, huts and shanties had stood. With great grasping claws the warbot systematically began cutting the cables that held the rope bridges.
One by one the collapsing bridges splashed into the lake, spilling villagers along the way. On long slender rafts fishermen frantically navigated between the fallen bridges to rescue survivors.
Eva heard a loud TWANG, and the woven rail on her rope bridge went slack. Without hesitation she bolted toward the second tower. TWING! The second rail was gone. Eva looked behind her. The warbot was cutting the remaining supports for the rope bridge. She wouldn’t make it to the tower in time. She crouched down and clutched the wooden planks as the bridge collapsed. It fell into the lake, joining the tangle of severed skywalks floating on the surface. The other end of the rope bridge was still attached to the second tower, making it more a ladder now than a walk. Hand over hand Eva climbed up the remains of the bridge into the tower’s base.
The spiral staircase that led through the tower was littered with deserted belongings. Eva crept up the steps, past broken lanterns, a trampled wide-brimmed hat, and toppled fishing baskets. She came out into the central courtyard, surrounded by the familiar tiers of rounded huts and shanties. Everything was in the shadow of the giant warship looming overhead in the low sun. Eva hid behind an upturned cart and watched, waiting for warbots to descend from the belly of the ship—but none came.
They are not invading? That’s weird, Eva thought. Maybe they are searching for Arius still.
“Human child, Eva the Ninth,” a voice whispered as if carried on the lake’s cool breeze. It was a singsong voice she recognized, though it was noticeably more melancholy. “Nine Evas, the child human.”
“Arius?” Eva whispered aloud.
“The human returns,” the voice sang. “The return of humans.”
Eva set off, through the abandoned walkways, toward Arius’s abode. “Arius, I need to speak with you. I fear you are in danger.”
“See me you must, Eva the Nine. You must see me.”
“There is another—like you—working with Cadmus, the human leader.” Eva ran now. Higher and higher she traversed, up to the topmost tier. “It may be your brother.”
“Another like me. Me and the other.”
“Arius, you have to leave!” Eva said. She bolted past rows of houses, stopping at a large round hut with a narrow stairway alongside it.
“Before you, I shall leave. I shall leave you behind.”
Eva took the stairs two at a time and crossed a narrow swaying footbridge that led to a small woven shanty—Arius’s home.
“In come,” a voice said. “Come in.”
Eva burst through the door, knocking over the stacks of offerings that covered the entry room floor. “Arius! Arius!”
A voice hissed into Eva’s thoughts from above her. Save yourself from consumption. Save my master.
Eva looked up and saw Arius’s enormous pet gadworm coiled up among the rafters of the hut. I have to talk with your master, she thought to it. Eva pushed aside the heavy tassled curtains and entered the back room.
The Prime Adviser floated next to the window in the dusky light. His unhinged mouth was open unnaturally wide, like a snake devouring a bird’s egg. In his mouth was the adviser’s prey—Arius.
“No!” Eva screamed.
The Prime Adviser closed his mouth over the soothsayer, consuming her. His body rippled and grew. Nine new stumpy arms sprouted from his torso, and an extra set of eyes opened, giving him three pairs in all.
Eva recoiled from the adviser, tripping and falling to the floor. She scuttled back through piles of gifts into the shadow of the curtains and toppled a stand with a tray full of Arius’s favorite food—fresh gadworm eggs.
Master is not master, the gadworm thought to Eva. It slithered along the rafters, into the room, and released another egg, which splattered onto the floor next to Eva.
The adviser spoke. His words resounded as if three voices were speaking at once. “Eva the Ninth, your past has led me to my sister. My sister is now the past.” He tossed Eva’s Omnipod at her. It landed and slid across the floor.
“Loroc,” Eva grumbled.
“I am Loroc. I am strength. I am power. My sister Arius has now joined my sister Darius. I can now see the past. I can now see the future.” He floated closer to Eva.
She scrambled to her feet and bolted from the room, but Loroc seized Eva by the hair and pulled her back toward him.
“Today is my reunion with Arius. Tomorrow it will be Zin. Then I will be complete at last.”
“What then?” Eva struggled against her captor, but it was no use.
“King Ojo’s many wishes will come to pass. And many will pass on from this new king’s wishes.”
“You’ll be the king?” Eva thought of the sand-sniper holding her at the ancient ruins. She relaxed, fighting all urges to wriggle free of Loroc. She thought out to the gadworm even as she was speaking to Loroc. “But what about Cadmus?”
“Cadmus is winning a battle today so that he may lose tomorrow,” replied Loroc. “I will do to him as I am to do to you.”
Help me, Eva thought out. Help free me . . . for Arius. For your master.
“I am going to kill you,” Loroc said. He took hold of Eva’s head as if to snap her neck, but then let go and fell backward as something large dropped from the ceiling.
Momentarily freed from Loroc’s grip, Eva scrambled to her feet and glanced back at Arius’s giant gadworm dragging Loroc into the entry room. It wrapped its segments tightly around him, constricting all movement. With no other means of escape Eva jumped up onto the window-sill and clawed her way to the roof. She stood amidst a large flock of turnfins and looked out from the topmost point in Lacus. Far below she could hear the angry waves of the lake crashing against the tower.
The wind whipped at Eva, causing her to stumble. On hands and knees she crawled through nests of roosting birds.
The center of the roof exploded, sending debris and frightened turnfins flying in every direction. “Your scampering will do you no good, little creature.” Loroc floated up through the hole, larger than before.
Eva retreated to the rounded edge of the roof.
“You cannot escape your fate,” Loroc spat.
“You cannot escape yours, either,” said Eva, standing to face Loroc. She recited Arius’s words,
“A nymph, born of the earth, forged by machine,
will lead a way through hate, through fear, through war.”
“I have seen my future, nymph.” Loroc spoke in a haughty tone. “You may be ‘that’ child, but you cannot stop what has begun.”
“Neither can you,” retorted Eva.
“Perhaps. But know this: I do not fall by your hand. You, however, shall fall by mine.” Loroc lunged at Eva.
Dodging his attack, Eva slipped and fell from the top of Arius’s home. She landed hard on the roof of a neighboring shanty one story down. Though shaken by the fall, Eva rose among the nesting turnfins and faced Loroc once more.
She thought out to the birds, Attack the intruder. He’ll destroy your nests. The flock of turnfins descended upon Loroc in a flurry of snapping beaks and beating wings.
Eva stretched her arms out from both sides.
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