Hooded

by A A Woods

  Carlette was silent as Tuk descended the last stretch of the tree, his arms shaking. She curled her own arms around her torso, mind stretching out, trying to find life.

  All she could taste was emptiness.

  “This is not right,” she whispered, her eyes falling on the broken body of a dark-haired child.

  “It’s war,” Tuk said, his voice hoarse as he folded the parachute.

  Carlette touched a burn on the nearest tree. “It always sounded so exciting in the stories. But this… there’s nothing exciting about this.”

  Tuk kicked a nearby root, causing a hound-sized rat to scurry away. Carlette could feel the creature’s hunger, the ecstasy of so much food.

  It made her stomach roil.

  “You haven’t seen enough of war,” he said in a bitter voice.

  “And you have?”

  Tuk flinched.

  “Tuk,” Carlette said, unable to stop herself. She had to know, had to understand, or else she’d always wonder if the airman she’d risked her life for was just another one of them. She turned to him with tears in her eyes. “Why did you join the army?”

  Tuk rubbed a hand over his black hair. Carlette wondered if he missed his aviator cap as much as she missed her hood. Without their symbols they were just a girl and a boy, just two people standing in the burning skeleton of a place that had once been alive.

  It made her understand why people loved their chains.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Tuk said at last. He started to walk. Carlette followed, the distant shadow of the mountains their guide. “I was born in Vaijan. My father was a trader with an established route through Kamora. With six ships to our family name and more than enough work, I pretty much grew up in the air.” A nostalgic smile tugged at the corner of Tuk’s mouth as he helped Carlette over a root. “He always used to say I was part eagle. Said I belonged on his airships, and that one day I would fly across the whole nation with him.”

  Carlette was silent, giving him space to continue. She had a feeling his story wouldn’t end well. Not much in their world did.

  He sighed, staring up at the sky.

  “One day, he left with half his ships for a secret mission in the middle of the Continent. It was for the Emperor himself, or so my mother liked to claim. You see, my father had risen in Vaijan society enough for his family to live in the Ziggurat, an incredible honor. To tell the truth, I missed our life on the docks. Ziggurat life was too stiff and formal for my tastes. But my mother… she drank it in. When my father left, she waved him goodbye with a gold-trimmed scarf.” He chuckled. “And he never changed out of his jacket.”

  Tuk’s head dropped. He glared at the trees around them.

  “That mission, the one for the emperor… my father never returned. He disappeared halfway through Kamora, shot down by the mountain folk. No one knows exactly what happened, but all three ships burned. They found no survivors.”

  “I’m sorry,” Carlette whispered. Her fingers twitched, itching to reach for Tuk, to comfort him. But she held herself back. Such instincts should not be encouraged.

  Tuk gave a weak laugh.

  “Not as sorry as my mother was. Without a proper business, she had to bribe the Ziggurat to let us stay. She was addicted to high-story life, obsessed with family honor. To her, the worth of our name was tied to our ability to stay where we were, to not ‘slide backwards’ as she put it. I was only eleven when she sent me out to start working for the ship mechanics, using the skills my father taught me. I didn’t mind, really. It helped me forget what had happened. But every night I got home to more parties, more finery, more lies.”

  Tuk sighed. Ruffled his hair again with that clink of manacles that almost become familiar.

  “My darling mother ran through our savings in less than six months. Soon she was borrowing, wheedling money out of our friends and family. In her effort to preserve our name, she ended up destroying it better than my father’s death ever could. Soon, no one would deal with us. We were on the brink of ruin.”

  Tuk flashed Carlette a sad smile.

  “I think, in some way, she had begun to hate me. I was a burden, you see. A reminder. A boy with his head in the clouds.”

  Carlette waited, holding her breath.

  “She sold me to a recruiter. The war with Delasir had become desperate and our army was paying good money for healthy youths. It was brilliant, aye? Nurkaij got soldiers to defend our homeland and the money paid out kept that homeland alive. Part of the Emperor’s master plan. So when my mother caught wind of it…”

  There was a moment of silence so bitter Carlette could almost taste it.

  “I remember her haggling for me. Sitting next to Commander Invitas, she looked like a tropical bird. All colorful silks and shimmering jewels. She could have paid our rent by selling the lavish furniture and costumes... but then how could she throw her parties?”

  “That’s horrible,” Carlette whispered.

  “She got what she wanted,” Tuk said ruefully. “Commander Invitas agreed that she could stay in the Ziggurat if I joined the air corps. There was a special job the Emperor needed fresh engineers for, one that would send me far away. She would probably never see me again, maybe never learn what happened to me. My mother told Commander Invitas to make sure she was properly compensated for her loss.”

  Carlette could see tears beading in the corner of Tuk’s eyes, jewel-bright, more beautiful than any finery. But he scrubbed them away, his expression wry.

  “No use getting sentimental about it now, aye?” he said, almost to himself. “Besides, I found a kind of family with Invitas. He’s a tough commander, very demanding. But fair. And he never asks anything of you that he wouldn’t do himself. It was an honor to serve under him.”

  “Was an honor?” Carlette said softly.

  The forest around them stood silent, watching. Tuk flashed her a weak smile.

  “Are you planning to go back and follow orders again like nothing’s changed?”

  Carlette hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ve been told my whole life that hoods are wicked monsters and the native people of Ferren are aberrations of nature and that all of it should be destroyed. But the first time I find myself alone on this island, I am saved by a hood, treated like a visiting guest by a Moian tribe that my people attacked, and witness a true act of savagery that came from above the forest, not below. I don’t know about you, Carlette, but I’m starting to feel like a bit of an idiot.”

  She wrapped her arms around her belly again, around the stolen Nuri uniform. Was she still a hood, loyal to Grand Mera? Would she go back to Jemelle and be property of the King once more? And if not, then what? Who would she fight for?

  “I do know one thing,” Carlette said to the ground. “I have to save them. The other students. Maybe I won’t stay, maybe I will, but I’m not going to let my mistake be the death of all those children. If the worst happens, the guards won’t bother to help them.” She looked up. “So I have to.”

  Tuk nodded. He was silent for a long moment.

  “And me?” he asked at last.

  “You’re free to do what you want.”

  “The ice queen melts.”

  Carlette rolled her eyes. “Did you really think, after all you’ve done, that I would hand you over to be tortured?” She snorted. “And I thought mechanics were supposed to be smart.”

  Tuk grabbed Carlette’s arm, forcing her to stop.

  “I’m smart enough to understand what will happen if you go back without me. They’ll kill you.”

  “Only if they catch me.”

  “I can’t let you go in alone.”

  “And I can’t let you come. You’ll slow me down, especially with those.” She jerked her head at the manacles. “I’m only going to warn Grand Mera. I trust her. She’ll listen to me.”

  “And then what? She’ll let you run free?”

  Fear clawed at Carlette’s belly, but fear was easy. Fear was normal.

  S
he straightened.

  “Yes,” she said.

  They both knew it was a lie.

  Tuk seemed to be gathering, emotions swirling around him in a storm. When he finally spoke, it was halting and whisper-quiet, as if the very trees might spy on them.

  “Carlette, come with me. I can find us an airship. We can run away from all this. Go to Raebus territory, maybe even the Sibilese deserts. There must be a way.”

  An image bloomed in Carlette’s mind: the two of them walking through the lush green Raebus hillocks. Digging out an underground home. Starting a garden. She would have laughed, if her throat hadn’t clogged up so badly. The idea of her, a trained killer, a living blade, being domestic? It was like trying to imagine an Amonoux as a house-pet.

  She placed a hand on Tuk’s. “If I abandon them, it makes me no better than the Bloody Paws.”

  “Then when we reach Jemelle…”

  Carlette knew what he was asking.

  Was it goodbye?

  She knew what she should say. What Grand Mera would have her say. Cut ties, rip off the bandage, be done with it.

  But instead, she dropped her eyes.

  “I don’t know,” she said, and it felt like the new mantra of her life.

  I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Goodbyes

  They were perched on the mountainside, camouflaged by the long shadows of craggy peaks. As Carlette peered out at the gates of Jemelle, conflicting emotions cut through her like an ice storm. Hatred. Affection. Loss. Longing. She didn’t know who these feelings were directed at, or even really what they meant.

  But, staring down at the tiny forms of children moving off one of the training platforms, Carlette knew she had done the right thing coming back.

  “It’s uglier than I imagined,” Tuk said, crouching next to her as guards marched along the high walls, the wood stained red by oxidized Goddeau toxin.

  Carlette exhaled a laugh. “It’s designed for function, not comfort.”

  “Sure looks like it,” he said in a dubious tone. “And you grew up there?”

  “I spent eight years of my life there,” Carlette said, careful to make the distinction.

  She had grown up in Tuleaux, with Mya and the sailors and the wild orphans. With Quaina’s laughter and the baker’s burnt oatcakes and the comforting hush-hush of ocean waves. Jemelle may have stolen half her life, commanded her loyalty, shaped her into the killing object she had become.

  But she would never think of it as home.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Carlette pointed at the back gate, where ragged traders and Collectors returned from the Wandering Pass. Jemelle was their first stop on the return to civilization, the first link in Delasir’s iron necklace.

  “The front entrance is heavily guarded, but caravans come in and out the back all the time. I’ll find one with a cart and sneak under it. The hounds will recognize my scent. I should be able to get in without trouble.”

  “I don’t see any hounds.”

  “They keep them out of sight so they can’t be enhabited all at once. It’s the only way to protect ourselves from attacking rebels.”

  Carlette’s gaze roved over the school, skimming the tiered spires. Oeil Tower of the Sky. Tierre Tower of the ground. Requin of the sea. Chevin of the steed. Scara of the beetle.

  And tallest, most prominent of all was Carlette’s home, painted bright red.

  Cerise Tower of blood.

  Tuk’s hand touched her elbow. “Carlette, tell me true, if they catch you what will happen?”

  She didn’t turn to face him. She couldn’t, not knowing what she would see. Liquid empathy, a concern that was both comforting and terrifying.

  And below that, the kind of heat the Tuleaux guards would cheerfully kill her for.

  “They will put me on trial as a deserter. If I’m lucky, I’ll be pardoned and assigned to a ship or caravan, kept in chains until I have earned their trust back.”

  “Has anyone ever earned trust back?”

  Carlette glared at Jemelle. “Not to my knowledge.”

  “And if you’re not lucky?”

  “I’ll be hung from the wall as a warning to others.”

  “Carlette—”

  “I can’t abandon them,” she snapped, whirling on Tuk, her voice harsher than intended. “I can’t,” she said again, softer.

  “I understand. But let me help you. Let me do something.”

  Carlette swallowed hard.

  “Go back to Caika,” she said at last. “Help me stop this. Maybe if you talk to someone, get them to see reason... I don’t know how, but there must be a way to make peace.”

  Tuk looked doubtful, but he nodded. “How will I find you?”

  Carlette grinned, a brazen, cocky expression that hid everything else.

  “You seem to have forgotten, Tuk. I’m a witch. I’ll find you.”

  Tuk grinned back. “You better.”

  They clasped hands, comrades in arms, partners against a world that would see them both die and not even blink. For an instant, Carlette believed what she’d said. She believed in a future with no war, no enemies. Peace between Nurkaij and Delasir. Perhaps even the hoods could be free, their tattoos nothing more than a memory of a different time.

  It was a childish dream, but Carlette clutched it to her chest like an ember. Her old life was done. She’d committed treason a thousand times over. All she had left was this one burning hope that perhaps her life could mean something. Achieve something.

  She drew back, hating the moment their hands parted. But she would be damned before she saw Tuk executed for her mistakes.

  “Please be careful,” Carlette said.

  Tuk snorted.

  “I’m not the one breaking into a guarded fortress.”

  “Still,” she said, “these mountains are patrolled. And I can’t imagine your next escort will be as kind as I’ve been.”

  He snorted. “Despite your horrendous first impression.”

  “Doesn’t seem to bother you now.”

  “No,” said Tuk, blushing. “No it doesn’t.”

  · · ─────── ·❅· ─────── · ·

  Carlette discarded the stolen Nuri uniform. If anyone saw her with it, she couldn’t even hope for a trial; any soldier would shoot her on sight. So instead she shivered in the frigid autumn air, crouching by the road, waiting for the telltale clatter of wagon wheels. Winter’s bite was growing stronger and Carlette had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

  A caravan had to be coming soon. The sun was sinking behind the mountains, casting streaks of gold and red into the sky like streamers. These last few hours of the day were always the busiest at the gates, with travelers making their final push into the safe belly of Jemelle before nightfall.

  She just had to be patient.

  When Carlette had first taken her hood and become a member of the Order, she’d been put on rotation with the patrol guards to learn the lay of the land. And the experience had appalled her. Snow snakes and infant auroks weren’t the problem—after all, she’d always had a kinship with dangerous things. No, it was the Delarese traders who’d filled her with dread. Leering creatures that stank of treachery and mold, their very presence felt like a toxin. A taint that Carlette’s newly awakened power couldn’t ignore. And seeing them with the girls, with their shipments, had been the most chilling thing of all. Moian, Ebonal, Raebus, sometimes a Sibilese or the odd Ceillan. Once even a Faclan teenager with a bone piercing through her nose and blue tattoos almost completely obscuring the skin of her shaved head. The captured Ferrenese natives had varied in age, in height, in weight, in ferocity.

  But all of them reeked of fear.

  The other young hoods shrugged it off. When Carlette asked, they would say that the Convent wasn’t that bad. They’d been well-fed and allowed to play together. The children, at least, were led above ground once a day to experience the light and ch
aos of the real world.

  But once they entered the Convent of Others, the women would never see sunlight again.

  The thought, even now, gave Carlette chills.

  How had she missed this sickness, this wrongness? Was it because she’d escaped the worst of it? Or because she’d wanted approval? It seemed impossible now, wearing a Moian bandana and reeking of airship smoke, to believe what she used to accept so blindly. There was no honor here. The Delasir people built this place, this school, to suit themselves. They didn’t care how much unhappiness it brought. Tuleaux was a machine, created to feed the war, to spin the wheel. And nothing would change.

  Until someone stood up to change it.

  She swallowed, forced herself to pay attention.

  All she could do tonight was save the children. The young hoods still trapped in Jemelle were innocents. They wouldn’t be for long, of course, but maybe she could change the paradigm before they were pushed into a life they did not deserve.

  The noise of an approaching caravan reverberated around the corner. It was too far away for common settlers to hear, but Carlette’s senses zeroed in. Over a dozen humans, six hounds, four auroks, and there. A cart. Heavy with something—women or pelts or food—but perfect for what she needed.

  Crouching lower and trying to control her shivers, Carlette settled in to wait.

  · · ─────── ·❅· ─────── · ·

  Tuk was staying put until darkness fell, when he’d make his next move. While the worst of the Ferrenese predators were nocturnal, at least the hunters Jemelle sent out would have retreated behind the safety of its walls. So he sat, leaning against the mountainside, watching the goings on inside Carlette’s old stronghold. It was an austere place, almost boring, so different from the assaulting noise and color of Vaijan. To him, it seemed cold enough to be a part of the mountains.