There were dust shadows in several places on the floor. This room had been furnished until recently. That meant this place probably hadn’t been built as a prison.
The walls rose out of the floors seamlessly. In fact, she couldn’t find any trace of nails or screws or even molecular bonding. It was as if this tower had grown out of the ground in one big piece. Stranger and stranger.
She stood at the window and looked out at the city below.
The buildings were all the same—variations of the tower she found herself in. They looked like white asparagus. Giant, elegant asparagus.
If they were like plants, maybe she could cut her way out. If the “rind” walls weren’t too tough. There had to be a way to do it—or else how had they made the doorways?
Jamie was out there somewhere, and he probably needed her. The poor man was hopeless in outdoor situations. Their one camping trip in the Heartwood had been a disaster. She would need to rescue herself first, though, if she had any chance at saving him.
She sat against one wall and pulled off a boot. It had an iron shank in the heel. If she could free that, she might be able to use it to cut a hole in the wall, given enough time.
She broke off both heels. If just one were broken, it would raise too many questions, but she was pretty sure none of these men would notice that she had shrunk three inches. They’d probably just take it as proof of their dominance over her.
She snorted.
She stuffed one of the heels in her pocket and set to prying the shank out of the other.
She’d have to wait until after they brought her dinner. That would give her all night to cut herself an escape hatch.
At last she had her tool ready—a long thin piece of iron, attached to the heel, which she could use as a handle. It wasn’t ideal. The edge wasn’t as sharp as she would have liked, but it would have to do.
When the knock at the door came, she was ready. The shadows started to lengthen outside. She had hidden the materials from her activity in her pants pockets, and she artfully arranged her shirt to cover them.
She hoped it was Mister Cool, Calm, and Collected again. If she got someone a little more interested and a little less disciplined, it could cause problems for her plan.
She wasn’t disappointed. This time her meal was a meat and gravy MRE with something that looked like rehydrated cranberries, but tasted like coleslaw. She forced herself to eat it. Gotta keep up my strength.
“Why are you guys keeping me here?” she asked conversationally as she chewed on the strange meat.
“Sorry, ma’am. I can’t tell you that.”
“Because you can’t? Or because you don’t know?”
“Sorry, ma’am. I can’t tell you that.”
She was halfway convinced he was an android.
“What is OberCorp doing here?”
“Sorry, ma’am—”
“You can’t tell me that. Got it.” She finished the meal, washing it down with the water he’d brought in a plastic glass. Maybe if she could hide the glass, she could use it to make a sharper tool.
She handed Mr. 3C the tray. “Thank you. That was every bit as good as the meals they serve at the Galaxion Hotel on Beta Tau.” She licked her lips for emphasis.
He smiled blandly. “I’m going to need the glass as well, ma’am.”
Of course you do. “Here you go.” She handed it over to him reluctantly.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“What, no blanket and pillow?”
He ignored her and swept out of the room with more flourish than was strictly necessary.
Nailed it.
She waited half an hour, near as she could figure, and then pulled out her new tool. She decided to try it on the wall behind the door, past the curve. Hopefully it would take her into another room and not out into a hallway. She had no idea how long it would take to cut a Jessa-sized hole, but hopefully she had all night.
She chose her spot and pressed the shank against the wall to test its strength.
It sunk in like a knife into butter.
Startled, she pulled it back and stared at the spot where it had been.
The small hole she’d made slowly closed up. In two minutes, it was as if she’d never breached the wall. She touched the surface. It was as smooth and hard as all the rest.
She tried again, this time tracing a long line after plunging the shank into the wall.
It split apart, making a small opening.
Her room wasn’t completely dark, although sunset had come and gone outside. The walls, ceiling, and floor gave off a soft, white glow.
She peered through the hole. The room beyond looked about the size of the one she was trapped in. It was furnished—a bed, a dresser, and a chest, along with a rug on the floor.
She watched the new hole close up again. This time it took a good ten minutes. It started with activity along the edges, as the substance seemed to boil, though it was completely silent. Then small filaments shot out across the distance, anchoring themselves on the far side of the hole.
They thickened, throwing out more, creating a gridwork that looked like fine lace. The material around the edges then grew over the new framework—the bones, she supposed—and eventually filled in the hole as if it had never existed.
This kind of tech—or whatever it was—was incredible. The applications alone were worth billions. Or would be, if OberCorp ever figured out what it had on its hands here.
She went back to the window to look at the city. It was beautiful at night, a true city of ivory towers. She shuddered at the thought of it being cut up for research and sold.
It was time to get herself out of here.
She went back to her chosen spot and cut a two-meter gash in the wall from the floor. The hole parted silently, and she slipped into the next room.
She was still too close to her own room, so she decided to move a few more down before trying one of the doors.
First, she pushed her shank through the wall in one corner to make a keyhole through which she could check out the next room and listen for any activity.
The room looked like a storage room, full of wooden racks. It was also empty.
Behind her, the hole into her room was starting to heal.
She stopped to check what was on all those shelves.
It was mostly kitchen implements—ceramic pots, earthenware mugs, wooden cutlery. She also found knives, handmade with handles of the most beautiful purple wood, their blades sharp enough to split a hair.
She chose one of these to carry with her.
Strangely, it didn’t have the same effect on the walls as her iron shank.
She pushed the shank through into the next room and withdrew it to listen.
Voices.
“…absolutely right. She’s giving us three days.”
“Three days? Do you think that’s enough time?”
“Yes. We think Havercamp will strike tomorrow or the day after, latest. Once we have them all in one place, we’ll call in the cavalry.”
Havercamp. They were talking about Jamie. They had to be.
“You sure the MB will take out the whole city?”
“We tried it a few years back on one of their villages. Place is still a slag heap. It will do the trick. Then we can round the rest of the wing men up and figure out how to get back home.”
The hole was closing up.
Jessa sat back against the cool white wall and considered what she’d just heard. They were laying a trap, for Jamie and the wing men. She had no idea who the wing men were—the travel guides had never mentioned a whole city full of them—but if Jamie was with them, they must be decent folk.
She had to get out and find a way to warn him. She didn’t want to go back, and she couldn’t go forward.
Decided, she pushed the shank through the floor and took a look around at the room below her.
Another empty space, this one maybe a bathroom? There was a long trough on one side and washbasins on th
e other, all made out of the same glowing white material.
She cut herself a hole and dropped silently through to the floor below.
SOMEONE WAS shaking Quince’s shoulder gently. She opened her eyes, staring blearily out at the world.
Robyn was peering down at her. “Quince, wake up,” she whispered.
“What? Is something wrong?” Her left leg was cramped something fierce.
“No. Sit up and be quiet.”
Quince did as she was told, rubbing her calf. Beyond the now-cold ashes of the fire was a wonder. She caught her breath.
Out on the plain before them was a herd of aux. The magnificent animals stood two meters at the shoulder, covered in shaggy white fur. Their six legs shuffled complacently as they munched on the short grasses that covered the plain.
There must have been a hundred of the beasts.
One of them looked up at her, its golden eyes big as her fist. Its horns made almost a complete circuit around the side of its skull. The animal had to be at least thirty years old to boast such a rack, ancient by aux standards.
“They’re beautiful,” Quince whispered. Her breath came out in a fog.
“They’re good luck.” Robyn kissed her. “I thought you’d want to see them.”
Quince nodded. “You’re beautiful too.”
Robyn laughed, shaking her head, her black hair fanning out like a waterfall. “I’m a mess. Camping does not agree with me.”
“I beg to differ.” Quince pulled her back for a long kiss. “I’ve missed this. Us.”
Robyn nodded. “But we have work to do before we can enjoy or long-delayed reunion, don’t we?”
“Unfortunately—”
Quince was cut off as something startled the aux, and they began to gallop away down the valley, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Quince laughed. “I wonder what frightened them?”
As if in answer, the ground began to rumble and then shake. The bluff they camped against began to rain down dirt and pebbles.
“Come on!” Robyn pulled her unsteadily to her feet, and they stumbled away from the cliff.
A huge rock tumbled down where they had been seated, smashing their fire pit before rolling on past them down the hillside.
“Holy hell!” How close they’d been to being crushed.
The rumbling subsided to a dull grumble, and then the valley was silent again. “Something’s happening. We need to go.” Quince scrambled back up the slope, looking at their campsite. It was buried under a foot of soil and pebbles, but nothing was too badly harmed.
They dug out their packs and the poor, tattered, and now dirt-covered sleep sacks.
She pulled out her heavy winter wear from her pack—fur-lined boots, a fur jacket, and warm wool leggings. “No idea how long we’ll have to spend on the ice.”
Robyn shivered, doing the same. “Hopefully not long. I was made for warmer climes.”
“You and me both.” Soon they were packed and ready to fly.
They climbed up to the bluff where Robyn could take off on her own. Quince breathed in the cool morning air. “Are you ready?”
“Let’s go. The sooner we get this quest over with, the sooner we can go home.” Robyn leapt off the cliff and soared into the air, climbing on thermal updrafts.
Quince followed her, and soon they were soaring over the valley where the aux had been.
A kilometer north, half of the little creek was gone, replaced by a deep crevasse. The runoff from the glacier dropped into the new crack in the world in a spectacular waterfall that fell away into blackness.
Quince and Robyn exchanged a look. “It’s getting worse.” Quince had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. They were too late. “Come on. Let’s get going.” Quince turned toward the glacier and set off to find Morgan.
“What do you think you’re going to find?”
“Is there a mountain at the pole?”
Robyn nodded. “It’s as big as Deireadh an Domhain—the Mountain. Or as big as it was.”
“To answer your question, I have no idea. Morgan is there, I think.”
“Where did you find him, again?”
The land below sloped upward toward the glacier wall, ice-blue on the horizon. There was a thunderous sound as part of the glacier calved, dropping an avalanche of ice onto the foothills below.
“Xander came across the boy in an abandoned farmhouse on Oberon. We were fleeing OberCorp at the time and had been separated.” The sun was warm on her wings, but the air around her was cold. She was glad of the fur coverings to help keep her warm. “I thought at the time that it was suspect. Too convenient. That farm had been abandoned for at least a hundred years, according to Xander.”
“Sometimes I think this whole world is too convenient.” Robyn chuckled.
“How do you mean?”
“Look at it. Two halves that are near mirror images of each other. Two perfect mountains, like giant pyramids. Sometimes I wonder if this world didn’t evolve so much as it was built.”
Quince chewed on that for a while. In truth, she’d had similar thoughts herself. No known human technology could have split a planet in half, at least not without catastrophic results. Let alone shift it into another universe. “You think something once lived here that had that kind of ability?” She shivered at the thought. How insignificant would humankind—lander or skythane—be in the face of power like that?
“Maybe.” Robyn’s grimace must have mirrored Quince’s own. “And if that’s true—if the waygates and the mountains and all the rest are part of something greater, what does that make your little friend Morgan?”
She’s not part of the plan. Those were the words Morgan had spoken when she lay near death’s door, according to Jameson. So, what was the plan, and were the humans on Erro a part of it?
“I don’t know.” Storm clouds were gathering on the western horizon. “Something he said, to Jameson and Xander—he has his own agenda. And yet… he said I wasn’t a part of his plan. But he still reached out to me for some reason.”
“Good or bad?”
“I don’t know. But let’s say there is something greater afoot. The only way we’re going to find out—and have a chance at steering things our way—is to find Morgan.”
Robyn nodded. “Just be ready for disappointment.”
Quince laughed darkly. “I always am. And I’m rarely let down.”
XANDER HUGGED Dorthia. “Do you have somewhere safe you can evacuate the village to?” He looked worriedly at the sky. “OberCorp has already sent troops inland. If Errian has truly fallen, they may turn their eye toward subjugating the provinces.”
She nodded. “We can go to the hunting grounds—about three hours inland. They’re hidden under the jungle. They won’t find us without sending troops in on the ground. That is, the ones that don’t follow you. You’re taking half the village with you.”
“For which we are grateful.”
She put a hand on his cheek, looking him in the eye. “Take care of them. Send them all back to me when the fighting is over.”
“I will do everything in my power.” He bowed to her.
“Charmer.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Go with Erro.”
“You too.” To the rest, he called, “Let’s fly!”
Fifty skythane took to the air. He planned to keep them low to the ground, ready to dive below the treetops if a hoversport approached. He hoped to make the rendezvous spot at Torr Talam by nightfall.
Somehow, so slowly it was almost undetectable, he was getting used to this whole leadership thing. What he still wasn’t used to was being alone.
How it had come to that in such a short time, he didn’t know. Well, actually he did. It was the pith.
He looked at his nails. The double moons were still there, like a stain he couldn’t wash off. He’d never been afraid to be alone before. He was a lone wolf and proud of it. Maybe it was time for him to learn to be alone again.
JAMESON HAD spent the better part of the
morning working with Alix to figure out who they had among the two hundred or so survivors of the attack on Errian. According to Vestra, the city was home to several thousand skythane, not counting the villages that dotted the countryside for a couple hundred kilometers out from the city walls.
Many of the city’s people had likely escaped to the countryside.
About half of the skythane on the island were fit enough to fight. He sent them with Alix to do what the ranger could to put together a fighting force, separated into ten flights of skythane.
Jameson retreated to the clearing they’d used the day before, which had been turned into a sort of war room. Plans were being sketched out in the mud near the creek side.
Vestra and Venin were there, along with a young skythane courier named Alvyn who said he knew the city like the back of his hand.
“We should go now and find Jessa.” Jameson pointed at the assortment of reeds that represented the main buildings of Errian. “They took her inside the big tower—”
“We call it the Castain.” Vestra put a hand on his arm. “It’s the seat of Errian’s government. Some also call it the House of the Sun.”
“The Castain, then.”
“First of all, there’s no guarantee that she’s still being held there.” Venin sounded exasperated. “And there’s the fact that she’s probably being used as bait to catch you.”
They’d been over this ten times already. Jameson sighed. “She needs me. I can’t just leave her there. Look what they did to Robyn.”
“I can find her.”
Jameson turned to find Alvyn standing behind him, a hand on his chin, scratching the tiny bit of stubble there.
“No, I won’t allow it. It’s too dangerous.”
“I can do it. I know the city better than anyone. Send me in, and I’ll find out where she is.”
“No way. I’m already responsible for too many deaths.”
The boy crossed his arms and glared at Jameson. “That’s total crap, and you know it.”
“Excuse me?” Granted he’d only been king for a little while, but he was pretty sure his subjects weren’t supposed to speak to him like that.
“Look, you’ve saved over two hundred of us already, but like it or not, Errian’s not your city. Well, maybe it is now. But not like it belongs to us. I grew up there. My family is there. My annama is still there.”
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