by Scott Moon
“Reapers, thousands of them. They came through the wormhole in stolen ships. Others just fell out of the sky. I went to make sure they all died. My family and the other families who survived when our ship crashed told me not to. My wife begged me not to go, but I had to find out. I thought they would come for us if I didn’t do something.”
“Did they come?” Kin asked.
“They came while I was gone,” Bear said.
Kin waited for his friend to compose himself before he spoke again. “How do you know Reapers killed them?”
Bear dug in his shirt and pulled out a leather cord. “I found this.” He handed a long claw to Kin.
The Reaper claw rasped on Kin’s palm when he turned it. Most people believed the bones of a Reaper were poisonous or cursed. His friend had been carrying the talisman for years and had avoided becoming part of Crater Town as though his presence would doom the place.
Kin thought about the story. If true, there had to be a reason the Reapers hadn’t descended on Crater Town and the smaller settlements in the area. The only explanation that came to mind did nothing to soothe his nerves. If such a force existed and hadn’t come this far, it was because something worse was out there.
“Maybe if you had done a better job, my family would be alive,” Bear said. “But I don’t know and I don’t want to know. You said the Fleet is trying unusually hard to get off this planet. Maybe they know something you don’t.”
Kin considered it. A single Reaper wouldn’t be much of a threat if the Fleet believed a hive of the monsters lurked on the other side of the mountains. The idea appealed to him, but it didn’t feel right. If Commander Westwood believed an army of Reapers existed, he would build fortifications and train the townspeople to fight. All of his tanks would form into echelons with forward observers and flanking units of armored vehicles and infantry companies. Commander Westwood was aware of a danger he wasn’t sharing with the people of Crater Town, but Kin couldn’t believe the menace was a Reaper uprising that had him repairing ships as fast as his engineers could steal the parts.
“Bear, look at the ocean,” Kin said. Something was wrong with the night. At first, he thought talking about lost love and Hellsbreach had merely ruined his mood. But it was more than that. Ever since the Fleet and Droon’s craft arrived, things had changed. Noticing changes in the wormhole was easy. Detecting a change in the ocean was more difficult.
The big man stepped to the ledge, gazing across the world. Night birds erupted from the tip of a mountain, forming a cloud that wandered south like migrating bats. They watched the birds and infrequent clouds. Kin stared toward the ocean and thought of Clavender’s people flying toward the wormhole.
“Was it like that before the Reapers came?” Kin asked.
Bear didn’t answer immediately. “No. It’s never been like that. It seems as though the entire ocean is sliding off the edge of the planet or down a whirlpool, except the surface is convex rather than concave.”
Kin saw his mistake immediately. Some aspect of the ocean had changed and he hadn’t seen it at first because every ocean he had ever seen had been slightly convex, owing to the curvature of the world. But Crashdown’s ocean seemed completely flat until now. The planet was huge. The curvature of the horizon wasn’t normally obvious to the naked eye, but now the ocean seemed to be pushing up. He would never have seen it without reason to stare at it.
“The wormhole is strange also,” Bear said.
His rustic manner slipped away for a moment and Kin could imagine him as the captain of a starship. He stood taller and his words were straightforward and concise. Kin noticed the wormhole’s change as soon as the Fleet passed through, but that wasn’t unusual. It was the strangest thing he had ever seen and sometimes made sounds that could drive a person mad. When it wasn’t rumbling distant thunder, it left noise in his head. He knew he wasn’t the only one plagued by the psychic droning. Everyone from Crater Town had a wormhole headache from time to time.
“We should take turns keeping watch,” Kin said. “And get some sleep. The Reaper will be moving fast.”
Bear shook his head. “The Reaper has no place to go. If it thinks you’re chasing it, then it will flee or fight. But I doubt it will go far from Crater Town.”
“Why didn’t the Reapers who killed your people come here?” Kin asked, although he thought he knew the answer.
“I detonated the power core of our ship to melt the side of a mountain over the pass to where they settled,” Bear said. He found his bedroll and stretched out.
Kin saw the rest of the story in his friend’s eyes. The Reapers didn’t kill all of his people. Some left him when he doomed them to this planet forever by exploding their last chance at salvaging a ship. Kin wondered where they were, how far they had traveled, and how they endured the harsh conditions beyond Sibil Clavender’s influence. Perhaps they found their own Sun Princess.
Kin forced himself to sleep but did little more than close his eyes. He allowed Bear and Rickson to rest as long as he dared, waking each of them quietly, like a trooper in a foxhole gently nudging a comrade awake — faces close, speaking in a whisper, and hoping the enemy was far away.
Droon didn’t leave an easy trail, but Kin thought he understood where the Reaper was going. They were moving around Crater Town, out of range of Fleet sensors, but never more than a few days from the human settlement. His time on Hellsbreach taught him to be one step ahead of the Reapers or die. He tried to think like a Reaper and remember their habits.
He questioned Bear about the terrain and the mountain passes that he hadn’t personally explored. Bear’s knowledge was superior to his. The recluse continued to drink wine, but not to excess. They made good time. Kin began to believe he would have the high ground on the Reaper before long. If everything went as planned, he would rescue Clavender. After that, he didn’t know.
He couldn’t go back to Crater Town with Orlan conscious, but perhaps he could get them close enough for Rickson to finish the job. Once Clavender was safe, Kin would hide in the foothills and watch the Fleet. The hardest part would be seeing them leave. Crashdown was going to be a lonely place with only one drunken mountain man and a couple of horses.
Bear grunted. “Mind that horse.”
Kin turned and saw Rickson shorten the rope on the packhorse. The edge of the trail crumbled as the animal pulled against the rope, stomping its hooves. Horses weren’t sheep. They could be led on a rope, but there was a fair amount of diplomacy involved with towing a strange horse across a narrow ledge.
“Rickson,” Kin shouted. The boy pulled harder on the rope as the back legs of the animal slid over the side. Kin dropped from his horse and sprinted. Drawing his sword, he jumped without knowing if he’d land on the ground or plummet a thousand feet to his death, and slashed the rope. The horse fell into the air with Rickson screaming at the animal and pulling. Rickson wasn’t a weakling, but he was a tall, skinny kid trying to prevent a packhorse from tumbling into the abyss.
Kin sheathed his sword, then grabbed Rickson as he staggered sideways. They fell against Bear’s mount, which only twitched an ear nervously as the screaming packhorse cartwheeled toward the canyon floor, exploding against the rocks. Kin saw the grisly spectacle, but Rickson was pressed faced down on the trail under him and was spared the sight.
“Don’t move.”
Bear sat on his horse and stared down at the lost animal. The horse, and the supplies that went with it, could mean the difference between life and death for Bear. His life was a daily struggle for survival, more so than for the townspeople. The wolves hadn’t removed the harness and packs the horses had been wearing when Bear lost them. He had connived for Kin to help him recover the horses, but he was still risking everything to help rescue Clavender.
Kin stood and checked his weapons. “Damn it, Rickson. Keep your horse away from the edge. You can’t relax until we are on level ground.”
Rickson picked himself up and straightened his clothing. “There is no l
evel ground up here.”
“Exactly,” Kin said. He made eye contact with Bear. “Are you okay?”
After a long silence, Bear said, “I’ve been better.” He carefully adjusted the path of the horse he was riding and began the descent toward the riverbed where they would probably pick up the Reaper’s trail.
“I’m sorry, Kin,” Rickson said.
Kin shook his head and checked Rickson’s equipment and clothing as though they were father and son. “Just pay attention. I need you to take Clavender into Crater Town when we get close. Don’t get killed. Next time a horse goes over the edge, let go of the rope.”
“I thought I could save it. If the stupid beast would’ve just walked when I pulled,” Rickson said.
“Animals panic. You can’t afford to. Let’s go. There will be times when I tell you to do something and you have to do it without hesitation or argument.”
Rickson nodded. Kin pointed at Bear, who was already far ahead of them. Rickson started moving, leading his horse rather than riding it on the narrow path. Kin followed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SMOKE drifted from Gold Village in a single black column. A bonfire could create that kind of smoke, or a funeral pyre. Many columns would mean cottages and cabins burning. One pillar of dark, oily smoke meant something else.
Kin motioned for Bear and Rickson to stay behind as he worked his way up the trail to a better vantage point. He doubted Captain Raien and the 11th LRC had done this, unless things had gone seriously wrong. Raien’s troopers scavenged without resistance when Kin left them. Yet, foul smoke rose above the mountains.
“That’s Gold Village, isn’t it?” Rickson asked.
Kin lowered the binoculars to watch Rickson and Bear creeping behind him.
“Now you’re both doing it. Great,” Kin said.
“When was the last time I let you walk into an ambush?” Bear said.
“I don’t get ambushed.”
“Because I’m watching your back,” Bear said. “What do you see?”
Kin raised the binoculars and studied the terrain. “We need to move closer. The smoke could be a distress signal, or it could be an accidental fire.”
“Or the troopers you told me about could have leveled the place,” Bear said.
Rickson gripped his staff and looked around. His characteristic recklessness retreated in the face of real danger.
Kin put the binoculars in his belt pouch and moved toward the trail. “At least allow me to go first. If something happens, I need you to get Rickson back to Crater Town.”
“Sure,” Bear said.
“I can get back myself.”
Kin followed the trail until he caught sight of the village, then moved parallel to it. A steep incline made the approach difficult. Loose rocks caused his feet to slip. He moved slowly, stepping between fallen branches and dry leaves that would betray his position.
The village appeared one small piece at a time. The bridge was intact. Villagers moved around the commons area without talking. They gathered dark shapes and threw them into the fire.
Kin returned to the trail where Bear and Rickson waited.
“Well?” Bear asked.
“They’re burning something,” Kin said. At this distance, the air was thick with smoke. He didn’t like the smell, which grew heavier and more unpleasant with every step toward it.
“I wish you would teach me your secrets, Kin,” Rickson said. “I wouldn’t have figured that out.”
Bear laughed. “He once showed me water was wet.”
“I can show you again when we cross the bridge,” Kin said. He looked to Rickson. “Bear isn’t a great swimmer. He needs practice.”
“I can’t swim at all, so don’t get any ideas,” Rickson said.
“That is what I said before he threw me in.”
They approached the village, watching for trouble, but only attracting the attention of villagers, who put down their work. Two men and a woman approached.
“Hello, Chalene. Is everyone okay?” Kin asked. He hugged her, then shook hands with the men.
“No one was hurt, but the children are especially rattled. A Reaper came through the village with a winged woman hostage. Sarah saw them climbing the trail and warned us. We hid until they continued, but a swarm of Clingers came and would’ve done for us, but a couple of those troopers had come back acting friendly. They blasted a bunch of the Clingers to bits,” Chalene said.
“The Reaper took Clavender,” Kin said. Chalene nodded somberly. She had recognized Clavender but didn’t want to say the words.
“Are the troopers here?” Kin asked.
“No. They ran toward Crater Town soon as it was over. Said they were going to bring help, but to be honest, I’ve had enough of the Fleet,” Chalene said.
“They were probably AWOL and won’t say a thing. What about the Reaper? It’s hard to imagine it would leave your village untouched.”
“It seemed lost. Had a Clinger stuck to its back. Always heard Reapers were dangerous, but anything that can survive a Clinger attack scares me. It’s been a bad couple of days. First the Fleet steals everything valuable, including most of our food and alcohol, then monsters pop out of the forest,” Chalene said.
“Do you need help?” Kin asked.
Chalene didn’t answer immediately. “Come into the village. You look like you could use rest and a hot meal.”
“We have food. It wouldn’t be right to take yours,” Rickson said.
“They have plenty,” Bear said, patting the boy on the shoulder.
Chalene smiled at Rickson. “This far from town, we’re resourceful. Troopers could’ve stolen all of our food and we’d still eat well tonight. The river is full of fish. The forest has everything else we need.” She paused. “It is good to see you, Bear.”
They walked into the village. Bear immediately went to help with the fire, grabbing a dead Clinger from the pile and tossing it into the flames. The villagers stared. They had been pushing the corpses across the ground with shovels rather than touch them. Bear grabbed two more, one in each hand, and turned his face from the smell.
Rickson, after working up his courage, picked up a Clinger but had to carry it in his arms. It wasn’t just heavy; it spilled out of his grip like a wet blanket when he tried to move it.
Kin took Chalene aside. “Tell me everything you can, including what you didn’t want to say in front of the others. Details are important.”
As they sat on the steps of her modest home, Chalene told him a story. The Reaper was struggling to control the Clinger. Droon wasn’t just running from Kin, he was running from the swarm as well. Chalene answered his questions, although she was tired and worried. Gold Village had always been a hard place to live, but monsters generally kept their distance.
Kin noticed Bear trading with several men, telling jokes and slapping his victims on the back good-naturedly. Rickson sat on a stump surrounded by children, carving simple toys from scraps of wood, telling stories about the figurines he gave out as he completed them. The sight of the boy, the young man, clowning for the village children made Kin smile.
He was glad Rickson had come. Later, he would regret the situation, but for the moment, it was a pleasant day despite the smoke and smell of charred Clinger flesh. He talked with Chalene about the Fleet and the possibility of passage from Crashdown. The woman remained grim.
“I don’t know about leaving. Fleet hasn’t done us much good,” Chalene said.
“I know.” Kin stood. “Thank you, Chalene.” As soon as he started to walk away, a girl approached him.
“Can you take me to Crater Town?” she asked.
“I can’t go back until I find the Reaper and deal with it,” Kin said.
“I know that. But later, on your way back, can you take me? Corporal O’Brian said it’s nice there. He said he’d take care of me.”
Kin took her hands reassuringly. “I spoke with Chalene about moving everyone to Crater Town. She’ll hold a meeting tonight.
You’ll need to talk to her.”
Chalene hadn’t liked the idea of leaving her home but understood many people wanted off the planet. They’d been marooned a long time and the idea of rescue never really died.
The girl nodded and thanked him.
“Bear,” Kin said, interrupting the man’s sales pitch. “We need to re-provision and get moving. Clavender isn’t going to save herself.”
“Provisions are taken care of. Fortunately, my credit with the people of Gold Village is in good standing. They don’t seem to want to buy the shirt off my back or beaver pelts,” Bear said as they walked toward Rickson.
“You brought beaver pelts?”
“No, but I promised to deliver them.”
Kin looked at him. “Do you extend credit when they come to trade with you?”
“Never,” Bear said. “Rickson, stop messing around and get your stuff. What are you, a pony?”
Rickson untangled himself from several children as Bear and Kin shook their heads, smiling. He growled and raised his hands to imitate claws. The kids screamed in delight and ran to escape him.
“You could stay here,” Kin said.
Rickson laughed. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easy.”
“Chalene will feed us, but eat quickly. We can make Maiden’s Keep by nightfall if we leave soon.”
“You can. Rickson and I are mere mortals,” Bear said.
“It will be dark when we get there, but we don’t have a choice.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NEITHER gate nor sentinel guarded the rock formation around Maiden’s Keep. Columns of stone flanked a crystalline waterfall where the portcullis should be. Closer inspection revealed a gentle curtain of water incapable of repelling invaders. At times, Kin could see through it.
“Rickson, stay with the horses.”
Rickson nodded and gripped his staff, which made Kin nervous. He expected an argument. The boy must sense something. Maiden’s Keep was a quiet place. No one ever came to greet him when he visited. A month ago, he followed the trail around the cliff to the dry gate and entered to find several women going about their daily activities — reading, mending clothing, cooking, or meditating. Despite the quietude, an aura of happiness and energy normally pervaded the atmosphere.