“What's with the color scheme?” Finn asked.
“I asked her the same question when I first got here.” Altin jumped in.
“They’re the colors of my parent's businesses. The house is two variations, yet it is one. It’s symbolic for their mutual partnership.”
“So they only married for business?” Finn dared ask.
Leeya seemed unbothered by the question. “Of course.” was her reply. “As are all Upper-District marriages. It’s called a merger, and it will bring them both greater profit. Having me was also planned. One day when they’re gone, their businesses won’t fall to a board of committee members, but instead will be solely ruled by me. I will then have a higher status in the community and have more power and influence.”
The way she described the lifestyle of Kazma made Finn feel lost in a new world. Marriage for profit and not love? Were these people emotionless? Yet as Leeya said the words with a monotonous voice, Finn detected a hint of sadness there, as if Leeya wasn't wholly committed to the tradition. Perhaps she wasn't devoid of human emotion.
“What-do-your-parents-do?” Goblin asked.
Leeya gave a courteous nod. It was a pre-calculated gesture, as if when talking about business one was supposed to act polite. “My father lends money to new companies while my mother helps businesses with their taxes. As you can see, their joining was beneficial. We are quite well respected by House Crookshanks. The House Lord and him have been in good terms for nigh a decade.”
She led them into her home, a place so clean, Finn doubted he would be able to find a single speck of dust. It was exactly as he imagined it to be: white walls with elaborate paintings, fanciful furniture, and glossy floors. Everything had a place, everything had a sense of precision.
Leeya took them to one end of her home where she put them in separate guest bedrooms. A maid and butler came forward, bringing fresh linen. They offered to take the boy’s clothes for wash in exchange for clear shirts and pants. While they changed, Leeya told them from beyond their doors that her parents wouldn’t be coming home from their jobs. They had living quarters at their office, which they stayed in six days of the week. She spoke with no emotion. Finn was at a loss. With a society built around only money and occupation, how could familial relationships work?
That evening, they made the decision to leave for Jakitta in two days' time. While in Kazma they would relax, explore, and buy whatever supplies they might need. The maid and butler returned with their now-clean clothes, dried by super-heated steam pipes. Marveling at both city and the two Star-Children with them, Finn went to bed wondering what lay in store for them next. Goblin took off his bandage, revealing a healed, normal-sized ear. He rested in a bed across to Finn, falling asleep and possibly dreaming of Lady Tuliah. In the other guest room, Altin retired to his quarters. Leeya stayed in the living room, staring at her fireplace and thinking thoughts no one would ever know.
Kilometers away to the South, Wahala rode her horse, still pulling at the gold-filled wagon. The beast whinnied, begging for rest.
She'd traveled many days from the Kingdom of Rot and its temple to catch up to Mal'Bal's campaign. She came to a stop and unsaddled herself, stretching her aching back and relishing in the blessed pain. Salastine unhitched the wagon and started a campfire as the other two cult members hunted for dinner. The sun disappeared, leaving the land dark—but that was alright. Wahala had followed Mal’Bal’s path of destruction across Lenova and knew where she was. Only a little farther North the Lich-Lord prepared his army and rested, ready to lay siege to their next target: Kazma.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
The DozDum Drop
—There was a woman at the edge of the stream last night. Now I know that may not sound special or anything, but she was on the other side, the side no one has ever been to! How did she get there? I attempted to call out to her but my voice caught in my throat. The scene was far too beautiful. There she stood, in a beam of white-blue moonlight, staring at the sky with such a sad face, as if waiting for someone who would someday come.—
-secret childhood journal of Miriam, daughter of Mirtle, leader of Pittance
Hands grabbed Finn, shaking him awake from peaceful slumber. He surfaced back to reality, confused and foggy. Leeya and Altin were both in his room.
“Awaken Finn! We have a problem!”
He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Wazematter?”
Altin and Leeya looked at each other but didn't say anything. Their expressions made Finn come to his senses quickly. Something was wrong—very wrong. On the other bed, Goblin sat up as well. Finn could hear voices coming from beyond the bedroom window. He saw torch light flickering by and knew it was the wee-hours before sunrise. People were moving past the house. By the sounds of it, there were many.
“Grab your belongings. We must hurry.” Leeya commanded.
Finn threw on his cloak and boots then strapped on his belt with its hanging pouches. He made sure Lady Tuliah's vial of amber liquid and his broken miner’s goggles were stored at his side. Following Goblin and the two Star-Children, he ran out of the house. He was right, the sky was black and dark-blue: right before sunrise. Dark forms walked past them, wearing long shimmering night-robes glinting with jewels. It was the many rich of the Upper-District, moving through the manicured grass. They all walked in the same direction, whispering words Finn couldn't catch. What was going on? There was a sense of urgency all about. A feeling of fear—terror even.
Leeya led them into the crowds. Beside him, Goblin sniffled and put on his feathered hat Piscus had bought for them. Finn wrapped his cloak tighter.
“Did anyone receive notice of this? How’d they appear?” a voice asked. “Did no one see them march toward us?”
“They must have come through Sodomona.”
“Then Sodomona’s no more.”
Leeya increased her pace. She was fast and for Finn to keep up, he left the rest of the crowd far behind. The torch and crystal-lit landscape gave no indication an emergency had happened. Above them, the glass dome glinted in orange firelight. All Finn could tell was Leeya was leading them to the Southern edge of the floating city.
They passed an empty garden, a waterfall trickling a melodic greeting. They walked a long quiet cobblestone path and neared the edge of the city where a chest-high wall protected the citizens from falling to their deaths. Finn was surprised to find many people already gathered there. They all leaned over the wall as if trying to see the Lower-District far below. Finding a clear spot, Finn and his group looked over the edge as well.
Finn was confused about what he saw. In the vast blackness that was the pre-dawn land, there was a large field of fire. He stared at the distant swathe of flickering light. Could someone have set the surrounding lands of Kazma ablaze? Three-quarters of the land seemed to be writhing in...torchlight. It hit Finn like a boulder—he was staring at torchlight. He looked left to right. If that were true... then below them stood an inconceivable number of people.
“An army.” Altin answered for all of them.
Finn's heart hammered in his chest with both awe and horror. An army? What was an army of such magnitude doing outside the walls of Kazma?
“Is it the king?” someone asked.
“No. He has no qualms with us.”
“They came from the South.”
“Aye, I heard rumors about a darkness spreading from there.”
“Some say civilians of Metés and Vestés are part of the army. Why have they turned on us?”
“Can we defend ourselves against such a force?”
“We don't have to. The Lower-District can deal with it. Just shut down the elevators and we’ll be fine.”
The words shocked Finn. It seemed as if the people of the Upper-District were more curious and agitated than afraid. They felt safe in the sky. Their attitude toward the Lower-District was disgusting. Were they going to leave their fellow citizens to fend for themselves far below?
“We have plenty of food and ma
ny gardens. Send out a bird asking assistance from the House Lord and the King.”
“If they sends anything at all, we won't see forces arrive here for at least a month.”
“We can hold out for a month. Perhaps bargain with the enemy. We have eloquent tongues.”
“Hmm, if we’re lucky the army will clean the vagabonds from the streets.”
Finn bit his lip, fighting his urge to not scream at the people. How dare they not care about the Lower-District? Were they heartless?
The sky lightened and the first rays of sun broke over the edge of the horizon from their left. Suddenly, detail could be made out. Indeed, far below was an army of immense proportions. Individual people couldn’t be made clear because of the distance but Finn swore there were mounds mixed within the mass, like living rocks. Everyone grew quiet as they beheld what lay below.
A conch horn blew. It was low and long, ringing for an eternity. Other horns joined with the first until the sound seemed overwhelming even from up in the sky. The noise cut out and there was a stillness in the air. Would they send out a spokesperson? Would the army demand terms of surrender? Would anything happen at all? Sweat poured down Finn's brow, yet he was cold.
The sound of ocean waves crashed out, low at first, then louder and louder. It was the sound of thousands of voices screaming. The army was charging Kazma. Leeya spun about. None of the other Upper-District citizens were doing anything but staring. Their faces held concern, but not much else.
“Gather weapons!” Leeya roared. “We must assist those below! Those whom have strength in their body, hurry to the Neck! We can’t sit by while our brothers die!”
The citizens frowned at her. None of them moved.
“Leeya, what are you saying? We’re safe here.” one of the men commented.
“Exactly.” another added, “They have their own soldiers. If we go down there, we risk dying. We have more to lose than they.”
Finn couldn't take it. These people were like the supervisors at the mines. They couldn’t care less if an underling died as long as they lost no money. It was all about power and wealth. He took a step forward, his body vibrating. “Listen up!” he screamed. Everyone turned to him.
“If you love your land, your homes, and your families; take arms! No more hiding behind the backs of the common! You must make a stand! Prove you’re worthy of your wealth, rank, and power! Below, the Lower-District dies protecting you! It’s not their duty! Their duty is to themselves! Yet they fight because they must! Where is your honor? Your justice? Where is your courage? Are you not men and women of Lenova? Raise your weapons! Fight!”
The Upper-District civilians wobbled in place, discomfort running through their features. Had he got to them? Had his speech worked? It seemed as if at least a few were considering his words. One of the men stepped forward. He was handsome, with raven-black hair and a finely-trimmed goatee. His clothes were elaborate and well-adorned.
“Our duty is to ourselves and our businesses. Without us, Kazma is nothing! We must stay safe. Our coffers can’t be plundered. We won’t fight—we’ve already sent men to shut down the elevators.” He spoke nonchalantly, without care.
Finn opened and closed his mouth, stunned. Around him, the citizens nodded in agreement. Goblin shook with rage. Even Leeya, one of the Upper-District herself, looked shocked at the decision.
Altin jumped forward. “Cowards!”
The people winced and stepped away from him, expecting the Star-Children to attack.
“We’re better than this.” Leeya stated, her face flat and emotionless. “Father, I thought you were better than this.”
Finn's eyes bugged out. The man that'd turned the people against them and argued against Finn's speech was non-other than Leeya's father. The man didn’t show any emotion. Instead, he looked away, facing back to the horizon. He didn’t reply to Leeya; neither did she stare at him.
“Come on,” she told Finn. “We must hurry. We have to get to the elevators before they’re shut down.”
“So-we're-still-going-to-fight?” Goblin asked.
Leeya faced him. “We must act with logic. We have to learn the enemy’s purpose: who they are, what they want. If there is a diplomatic solution, I shall take it. I am the only Upper-District member who seems willing to do so.”
Finn worked his jaw. “Right. Let's move!”
They ran from the ledge, weaving through the crowds of the rich. Finn expected someone to try and stop him—a hand to reach out and grab him—but no one did. They only gave him a look of disapproval. Many didn't care, but instead watched the rising sun. Finn's last glimpse of them was of a large crowd back-lit by the early morning light, no one moving to help. The vision would haunt him forever.
Led by Leeya, the group sprinted at full speed toward the center of town. Winded, they approached the DozDum Organ pipes and the three egg-shaped objects connected to them. Running across the hexagonal floor toward the nearest elevator platform, Leeya grabbed a lever sticking out of a mechanical control board. She pulled the lever but nothing happened. Leeya swore, an act opposite of her composed nature—a sign of emotion.
“They've turned off the steam. We have no power to the elevators. We’re too late.”
“So-we're-just-going-to-sit-here-and-listen-to-the-battle-below-us?” Goblin asked.
Altin pulled at his long hair in frustration. “This doesn't make sense. Why are we even being attacked?”
“What-do-we-do?” Goblin asked Leeya.
The girl's eyes showed a sudden lack of confidence. There was nothing that could be done. Finn looked to his broken bracer, thinking back on his dream of exploration. He was supposed to be a Star-Child. He was supposed to see Lenova—perhaps even protect it; not watch it be destroyed. Why couldn't he use his bracer when he most needed it? What would trigger a power? Of all times and places where a special ability could be useful, now would be the best.
Finn paced back-and-forth, gritting his teeth. He neared one of the DozDum pipes and kicked at it. His toe throbbed and he hobbled back, nearly falling into the hole where sound and wind blew out. The thought clicked in his head: the organ pipe, the vein of the city—it ran at an angle to the Lower-District. And there were holes in the side of the pipe. Holes the size of a child.
“Get over here!” he yelled to his group. They came running forward, worry on their faces.
“What is it?” Leeya asked.
Finn pointed to the pipe. “Can we all fit through there?”
“No way!” Altin said, shaking his head and backing away. “I can't believe you'd even think of something that stupid.”
Leeya’s face was once more stone. “We can. It's our only way down.”
“We're going to die.” Altin groaned.
“Most-likely.” Goblin agreed. “You-first-Altin.”
“He’s right. Altin, activate your power. You'll go first.” Leeya commanded, taking charge. “If we slide too fast, you can control our descent by holding us up.”
“I'll be crushed at the bottom by all of your combined weight!” Altin shouted.
“Do-you-want-to-stay-up-here-and-do-nothing? Are-you-not-a-Star-Child? Were-you-not-chosen-by-the-heavens-themselves?” Goblin remarked.
Altin spun on the boy, snarling. “I can barely understand you, numb-mouth! You have no idea what you’re talking about! Have you ever been in a battle? Have any of us? Do you think the attackers will be intimidated by a little boy with a lisp?”
“I’m surprised out of all of us, you’re scared the most.” Finn growled.
Altin howled in annoyance and pushed past them. He grabbed the edges of the thrumming pipe, then froze with hesitation. His breathing was ragged and he shook his head. The pipe was barely wider than him. If at any point the tube grew narrower...
“What of the other holes on the way down?” Altin asked, his bracer sluggishly coming to life. The dark armor pieces slid along his body and wrapped around his ankles and wrists. They moved slowly, as if Altin was having to for
ce fake confidence.
“Best to keep your arms and legs tucked in.” Leeya responded. Everyone gulped.
“And if we can't slow down?” Altin asked again as he fit his legs through the tight opening. He wiggled his body until he was holding on to the edge of the hole, only his head peeked out at them. The older boy was wincing, whispering, “We can’t control this. We don’t know what could happen…”
“There's no time for this.” Leeya sighed. She moved forward and shoved Altin down. The boy lost his grip, and with a scream, was gone. Leeya turned to Goblin and Finn. “May we live through this day.” With a lithe, smooth movement, she slid her body through the tight cavity and fell.
“Being-chased-by-a-vat-worm-sounds-nice-right-about-now.” Goblin commented. He too jumped through the hole. Before beginning his rapid slide, Finn heard his friend grunt out, “What-a-tragedy. And-I-just-learned-to-talk.”
Finn was left alone to calm his heart as best he could. He hadn't been able to save his fellow miners from Nozgull, and by himself he couldn't stop an army. But he'd changed in his journey so far and he had two Star-Children to help him. He might yet live. He wiggled into the pipe, his body expertly moving into the tight space.
Inside, the magical thrumming of power was deafening. His entire form vibrated and his muscles complained. He struggled to maintain his grip on the edge of the hole. His boots slipped and slid, finding little hold in the steep angle. It was dark in the tunnel and with the little space he had, he couldn’t see below him nor pull out his goggles. He couldn't even hear the voices of his fellow friends. The pipe was only warm to him and he thanked his bracer under his breath. He worried the others were being cooked alive as they fell.
Finn let go and his stomach lurched to his throat. He remembered Leeya's words, wrapped his arms around himself, and tightened his legs together. He shot down in the dark, clueless as to how fast he was moving. The pipe's hum became a shrill whistle biting at his ears. The angle was ridiculous. There was no way he would land alive at the bottom.
SunRider: Book 1 (The SunRider Saga) Page 21