by Walsh, Sara
“I don’t get it,” I said to Crowley. “Malone’s already got the Solenetta. Why does he care about me?”
Crowley, Tiamet, reached for my hand. “Don’t worry about the details, Mia, or you’ll drive yourself insane. Just keep yourself safe. Trust Solandun. Trust Delane. They know what they’re doing.”
And so it seemed. Sol thrust a sword into my hand.
“I have to fight?”
“Just try to stay alive,” said Sol.
I lifted the sword. It was lighter than the one in Sol’s trunk and shorter than the one Sol had taken when he’d gone back to look for Solenetta last night. Nevertheless, it was heavy and wobbled in my grip. “I can’t use this.”
“Mia, you may have to,” said Sol.
I tried to imagine what it would be like to actually use it. I was always the peacekeeper at school, getting between Kieran and Willie when they were at each other’s throats. There was no way I could go after someone with a sword. But I thought of Jay hacking and slashing his way through his video games. He wouldn’t show fear. But Jay didn’t have a sword to protect himself, and I did. I owed it to him to use it.
As the others finished packing, Delane hurried over with a belted scabbard. “Left or right?” he asked, and then when it was obvious that I had no clue what he was talking about: “Do you use your left hand or your right hand?”
“Oh,” I said. “Right.”
He laughed as he strapped the belt across my hips. “Don’t panic. You probably won’t have to use it.”
He tightened the belt almost down to the last loop, then stepped back to take a look at his work. “Perfect fit.” He winked. “Well, almost. It’s lucky you’re quite tall. Try it.”
I’d never predicted that one day I’d be sliding a sword into a scabbard. But my reach was long and the sword fit, almost as if it was meant to be.
“Now draw,” said Delane. He mimed drawing the sword.
I mimicked him, my sword slipping swiftly from its sheath.
“Great technique,” said Delane, as I slid it back inside. “We’ll make a warrior of you yet.”
That I highly doubted.
The packing complete, Sol joined us at the door. He peered outside.
“Keep to the back streets,” said Crowley, as he handed Delane his pack. “They’re bound to come here. We’ll stall them for as long as we can.”
As we left the house, I took a final look at Crowley and Rip, standing there like friends I’d known my whole life.
“Remember, Mia,” said Crowley. “Trust them.”
With that, the door closed and I was alone with Sol and Delane.
Chased by the bell, we sprinted through Bordertown’s deserted alleys. My pack bashed against my back. The skirt wrapped around the scabbard with every step. Several minutes later, the gap between the houses widened, diminishing the number of places to hide. Soon we crossed open land, peppered with the kind of shacks I’d first seen on entering town. Gnarled trees sprouted between the huts then thickened into a grove. Vines with scarlet leaves smothered the trunks like blood-filled ivy sucking the life from the boughs. Overgrown, they trailed from branch to branch, a vast red web that shimmied in the breeze and cast deep shadows onto the ground.
At a run, we ducked beneath the trailing leaves and headed into the grove.
“Still no sign,” said Delane. “They’ll be cutting off the roads leading out of town. There’s no way they’ll think us crazy enough to take on the valley.”
“What is this valley?” I asked beneath my breath.
“It’s been deserted for years,” replied Delane, with his usual cheery tone. “Best to just leave it at that.”
Sol slowed, peering between the low-hanging vines. “I see the horses.”
“Sentinels?” asked Delane.
“None,” he said. “It doesn’t feel right.”
I peeked through the scarlet foliage into the clearing ahead. On it stood a circular house, about ten feet in height and constructed from pale blue stone. Two horses in full tack were tethered to a post in the yard, nibbling at the sun-scorched grass. No one else was in sight.
“Only two?” I whispered.
“You can ride with me,” said Delane. He leaned in to my ear. “Don’t willingly get on a horse with Solandun. He rides like a maniac.”
I laughed. Just a little. No matter how bad things became, nothing seemed to get to Delane. I wondered what other information I could get from him about Sol.
Simply grateful our escape didn’t depend on me riding alone, I stepped into the clearing, following Sol to the horses while Delane kept watch at the rear.
“Untie him,” said Sol, gesturing to one of the two.
It was a huge animal, brown to the point of black. A single strip of white ran down its face. It stamped when I approached.
“He knows you’re scared,” said Sol, with a smile.
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Not if you want him to listen you.”
I inched closer and tried to woo the beast with charm. “Hey there, boy.” I patted his side. It didn’t work any better than it did to coax Rusty. The horse sniffed my forehead as I went for its reins. Something cold and wet came away on my skin.
Sol had already mounted. He held my reins as Delane joined us, mounting our ride as easily as Sol had his. Delane offered me his hand.
“Just hold tight.”
“That’s the plan.”
I hoisted my ridiculous skirt above my knees, and then scrambled up with Delane’s help. Almost six feet off the ground, I grabbed his waist. “Okay,” I said, feeling secure. Well, kind of.
I peeked out from behind Delane’s back and caught the glimmer of Sol’s sword as he raised the blade. Just like the night before on the Ridge, he leaned forward and sniffed the air. “They’re here,” he murmured. “Back up.”
The horse moved beneath us, but my gaze remained on the trees. I held Delane tighter, anticipating visage demons creeping into the clearing and again confronting me with Jay’s face. I instinctively lowered my hand to my sword, though I knew I couldn’t use it. I couldn’t strike at anything that bore Jay’s face.
“What’s out there?” I whispered.
“Sentinels,” said Sol. Still leaning forward, he turned an ear toward the grove. The sun shone in the clearing, casting golden brown light through his hair. His eyes narrowed. “They’re trying to surround us.”
“I don’t see anything.”
A ripple carried through the vines like a whisper traveling leaf to leaf. The first sentinel appeared. It was tall, at least seven feet, and as bald as a visage demon except for a tail of coarse black hair that sprouted from the top of its head. Its empty, glassy eyes were round and widely spaced like a shark’s. A black, sleeveless tunic covered its gargantuan chest. Muscles bulged in its arms, and thick blue veins, as wide as my finger, pulsated beneath its skin. Below the tunic, bare legs displayed massively oversized quads and gigantic feet, both hugely out of proportion to the rest of its already impressive frame.
They appeared one after the other, each identical to the first, encircling us, moving as a unit to cut off our escape. Twenty. Thirty. I lost count. They watched us. Waiting for what, I didn’t know. Anticipation rose. Were more on the way? We were already hideously outnumbered, but we had horses.
“Time to go,” said Delane. “Solandun?”
I caught Sol’s nod, clutched Delane tighter, and prayed the poor guy could still breathe through my grip. Him turning blue was the only thing that would make me let go.
The front sentinel raised a gnarled arm. Its mouth opened: “Ni’ah.”
That one word, whatever it was, shattered the moment.
Sol, then Delane, rounded the horses, and charged for the woods behind us. I ducked to snatch a breath against the rushing wind.
I knew within seconds why the sentinels hadn’t come with horses. They didn’t need them. They sprinted after us, their humongous steps powered by their massive thighs. Thund
er sounded at their charge. Screams, like warrior’s cries, echoed. I’d never seen anything on two legs run so fast. Within seconds, they’d flanked us. They bounded over shrubs, bowled through saplings like a giant herd escaping a predator.
Only, they were the predators and we were the prey.
I clung to Delane, certain I felt a sentinel’s breath on the back of my neck, but too terrified to look. Delane sat low across the horse’s neck, riding in stride with Sol at our side. Neither checked back.
We weren’t going to make it. Several of the sentinels on our flank drew closer. Those in the lead veered toward our path. Sol pressed on, ahead by several strides. He caught the turn in the sentinels’ direction as six or seven bounded ahead to our left. Seconds more and they’d cut off our escape.
Sol steered his horse to the right. Delane followed.
The woodland thickened. Low-hanging branches threatened to topple us. But there must have been a route through the undergrowth; never did Sol’s speed waver. A dark tunnel of trees appeared ahead and Delane’s cry, carried by the wind, rushed by my ears.
“Hold tight!”
The sentinels’ thundering strides drew closer on both sides. A strong current of beastly odors thickened. Six feet was all that separated us from the beasts sprinting at our side.
“They’re too close,” I yelled.
“Just hang on!”
Five feet. Four feet. I was within reach of the sentinel at my side. Blackened fingernails—claws— grazed my arm.
“Delane!”
The horse, as if sensing my terror, lowered its head and charged again. The sentinel fell back.
I risked a glance over my shoulder. The pack had formed a wide arc behind us. Maintaining their pace, they pressed forward, forcing us from the path Sol had found through the woods. Though they moved as one, never did they shout an order or command. It was as if instinct guided them.
“They’re cutting us off from the valley,” yelled Delane. “Solandun, they’re pushing us north!”
Obviously, Sol had noticed it too. “They’re herding us,” he shouted back. “Just keep moving.”
Herding us away from the valley? “Why are they doing that?” I cried.
“They’re trying to corner us,” said Delane.
But I didn’t see any place where they could trap us, only the sentinels and the trees. On we went. A mile. Two. The sentinels drew no closer.
The trees began to thin. Rocks appeared underfoot. Daylight beckoned. I focused on what lay ahead, conscious that with one mistake, one stumble, they’d be on us. They were pushing us somewhere, and we had no choice but to oblige.
The trees were now sparse. No leaves covered their branches. Their bark was gray, as if it had withstood a wildfire, though the ground was not charred and the lengthening grass showed no sign of damage. A fine layer of silvery ash blew from the trees and was carried away by the wind.
Ahead, Sol’s horse whinnied, then stopped. Confused, I realized that Delane had slowed too. We pulled up at Sol’s side. Both horses turned to face the sentinels.
The creatures stood behind us in a line, blocking the route to Bordertown with an impenetrable wall of bodies. Beyond them lay the woods, the canopy a thick, deep green. Before us lay the desiccated trees with their jagged, leafless branches. It was as if someone had drawn a line across the ground. On one side, where the sentinels waited, was life. On the other side, our side, was death.
“We could fight,” whispered Delane.
I caught Sol watching me, and as if that had sealed the deal, he shook his head. “There’s too many,” he replied. “We’ve barely enough decimators to get through the valley.”
“Then it’s your decision,” said Delane. “They’ve got us where they want us. They don’t think we’ll go on.”
I glanced over my shoulder to where gently rising grasslands spread away from the forest. It was the perfect place to gain some speed and put the sentinels behind us, or for the sentinels to charge us down. But no sentinel moved.
I looked at Sol. His head was high, his back tall and straight. There was no fear in his eyes. Old Man Crowley’s words returned to me: Trust Solandun. Trust Delane. They know what they’re doing.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Sol. Never once looking away from the sentinels, he leaned in to his horse’s ear. I didn’t catch what he said, but it must have done the job for the horse took several faltering steps back.
“Delane,” he said, his voice low.
We too retreated.
Feet stomped in the sentinels’ line. Teeth bared. Black eyes stared. Toward the center of the pack, one of the sentinels took a forward step. The one beside it shot out an arm to block its path. Then came a bark, a sound I recognized from when we’d tumbled through the Barrier on the Ridge.
“The Wastes,” it snarled. “Leave them. They’re as good as dead.”
THIRTEEN
I’ve changed my mind,” said Delane. “This was a bad idea.”
About ten minutes had passed since the sentinels had abandoned their pursuit. The last time I’d looked, the woods had been visible behind us, the sentinels a shrinking line of pale flesh. Clearly, they weren’t about to give up their post, leaving us no choice but to press on. Not that we were making much progress. For every step the horses took, we had to coax them into taking one more.
The landscape changed little. Knee-high prairie grass, endless clear sky, and the occasional barren tree was all I could see of the gently sloping hill that we climbed.
Sol’s horse bucked. “It’s no good,” he said, and dismounted. “We’ll have to lead them. They might be better if they have something to follow.”
“What’s wrong with them?” I asked.
Delane twisted in the saddle to face me, and for the first time since I’d met him, his expression turned completely serious. “No animal willingly sets foot in the Wastes.”
Yet here we were. Wherever here was.
I swung my leg over the horse’s rear end, preparing for an elegant dismount. It didn’t quite work out. My foot caught in the folds of my skirt, and I slid sideways, almost taking Delane with me.
Sol must have noticed me falling. “Careful,” he cried.
He dashed over and grabbed me tightly around the waist. My back against his chest, he lifted me down.
Though I was safely on solid ground, Sol did not let go. I turned in his arms, hugely aware that he was still holding me. “I slipped,” I muttered sheepishly.
A flicker of amusement entered Sol’s eyes. Undoubtedly, he’d pictured me landing on my butt with my skirt around my shoulders. But there was softness in his expression too, like when he’d joked about the bus outside school. It was a welcome change from his usual serious silences.
“You have to take care of yourself,” he said. “Land badly on your ankle and this will be a really long trip.”
Delane jumped down beside us and Sol let go of me, as if he’d just realized that he was still holding my waist. He headed for his horse and gathered the reins. “It’s time to move,” he said, back to business.
I was about to follow when a squeak came from somewhere close by. Surprised by the sound, I peered behind me to the spot where I thought it had originated. I almost hurled.
It might have been a rabbit—once. That is, a rabbit that had spent a fair bit of time in a pit bull’s mouth. A little fur remained on one of its hind legs, but other than that it was just a mess of flesh and bone. But it was alive. Somehow. It lay, twitching on its side, its bloodied front paws occasionally tapping the ground. I stumbled back.
“What the hell is that?” I gasped, and shot out a hand to grab Delane.
Delane peered into the grass. “It must have wandered in and gotten lost,” he said. He wrinkled his nose. “Looks like it’s been here a while.”
“Something’s been at it,” I said. Its paws twitched. “We need to put it out of its misery.”
My cries brought Sol back with his horse. He took one look at the rabbit and
then turned his head in disgust. “It can’t be killed,” he said. “Not here.”
I frowned. Uneasy, I scanned the prairie, noticing the stillness, the silence.
“The Wastes,” I whispered.
“The Wastes are the places in our world that the Barrier has abandoned,” said Sol. “It is reality shattered. No life. No death.” He glanced at the rabbit, his expression of disgust gone. He looked sad. “It’s being absorbed by the Barrier.”
My stomach lurched again, my mouth dry. “They did this on purpose,” I said, panic rising inside of me. “The sentinels. They knew they’d trap us. That we’d give ourselves up rather than come here.”
“It is the Wastes,” said Delane. “Get stuck in here for too long and the Barrier will begin to absorb you too.”
I straightened, imagining the three of us collapsed on the grass, our flesh melting, too far gone to ever escape the Wastes. Already, we’d stood here too long!
“Then we have to move,” I gasped. I immediately headed up the hill, picking up the pace with each step, chased by something intangible, yet far more dangerous than Duddon Malone or the sentinels at the forest’s edge.
Sol called me back. “Mia, wait! There’s something else you should know.”
Freaked, I glanced back over my shoulder. “Sol, I think we know enough!” I cried. “Or do you want to end up like that?”
The land flattened as I approached the final rise. I stopped. A quarter mile in front of me was a second hill, taller than the one on which I stood, and wider, too, its plateau shaped like the outline of a man dozing beneath the sky. I would have recognized it anywhere. I’d seen it from the Ridge a hundred times. There was no mistaking the Sleeper Hill Giant.
To the side of the giant lay a dense, jumbled mess of buildings. Some were in sharp focus, like the unmistakable white wooden cupola above the Onaly Free Church. A hazy nothingness covered other parts of the town as if I saw it through condensation on the inside of a window.
Though I saw no cars, muffled sounds of traffic came from a distance. Every so often, the sounds would stop abruptly and silence would fall.
Sol, Delane, and the restless horses came to my side. “It’s Onaly Crossing,” I said, breathless. “Sol, it’s Onaly.”