Planet Urth: The Fate of Urth (Book 5)

by Jennifer Martucci

  Chapter 18

  The sun bursts free of the horizon line, pushing back the darkness in bold breadths of lavender and salmon. Buttery shafts of light stretch, touching the spires of buildings beyond the protective wall of Cassowary, a wall that hasn’t been breached. My breath catches in my chest and my heart flutters, constricting my throat. Tears blur my eyes. Cassowary, the city I’ve called home for five years now, is so close I can smell the rich scent of boart roasting over an open flame. In my mind’s eye, I envision the dining hall, envision a massive hind leg churning on a spit over a fire, fat dripping and instigating taller flames. I picture my friends, the villagers, everyone working together to keep the city functioning, and my heart doubles in size, filling my chest until I fear my ribs cannot contain it. Peeking over my shoulder at June, I see that her eyes shine with emotion. Her gaze is cast toward our city, homeward bound. Placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze, I’m thankful that we were able to escape the Uganna village, unseen and unscathed. It seemed an impossible feat for us to exit alive and intact. The fact that we managed to do so, that we managed to free those who’d been imprisoned and leave without chase or further conflict, is a dream come true.

  Inhaling a lungful of crisp, morning air, the woodland at our back is teeming with life. Chirps, squeaks and squawks abound, growing distant with every step we take. My feet shuffle over fallen leaves. An array of reds, oranges and yellows fall from trees, dancing all around us like flames. I look back for a moment, scanning the tree line. The treetops, kissed by the early light of day, look afire as frothy mist licks at each leaf. The seasons are changing. And as I look to the beings accompanying us, I realize everything is changing. Life as we know it is changing. History is being rewritten.

  Sully catches my gaze. Eyes a warm brown that rival the exquisite shades found in nature stare straight through me, as if he’s reading my thoughts as they come to me. He smiles, the dimple at the center of his right cheek deepening, and a wash of goose bumps traces my flesh. Cheeks heating, I return his smile before scanning the landscape once again.

  Casting my gaze skyward, the silhouettes of archers posted along the wall come into view. I recognize familiar faces, and warmth that has deep ties to my affection for Sully diffuses through my chest. Home, the place where I seek not only shelter and safety but solace, is a beacon, a safe harbor in an ever-churning sea. The world beyond Cassowary is dangerous, deadly. That much I know for sure. But within the walls before me is a sanctuary unlike any other. Emotion effervesces from my belly to my shoulders. Feeling inexplicably buoyant, my arm rises, as if of its own volition, and I offer a jaunty wave. I could swear at least one or two of the archers sees me, yet none of them react. Expressionless and with bows drawn taut and at the ready, they look as if they’ve been carved from stone. Placing two fingers in my mouth, I whistle, the sound long and loud as it rings through the early morning. Still, no one flinches. Glancing at Sully, my brows knit and concern begins to dash the excitement that bubbled within me moments ago. Noticing what I see, Sully’s squints, staring hard toward the wall. “What’s going on?” I can’t help but ask.

  “I don’t know,” he answers, his eyes never wavering from the fast-approaching city in front of us. “Something’s off. Something’s not right.”

  “What? What do you mean?” Panic laces June’s tone. “What do you think is off?”

  “It’s nothing. Maybe they didn’t hear her when she whistled.” I don’t know why Sully bothers trying to conceal his worries from June. She’s not a child anymore, not in the world in which we live, at least.

  June’s head swivels toward him. She arches a brow. “Really, Sully? You’re kidding, right?

  “What?” He feigns both surprise and a trace of insult.

  “Give me a break, and drop the wounded bunny look!” She makes a frustrated pft sound through her teeth then throws up her arms in exasperation before letting them fall dramatically. They land against her thighs with a slap.

  Holding his hands at chest height, palms facing outward in mock surrender, he concedes the point. “Okay. Okay. No need to get testy.” He makes reference to her fiery temper, a dangerous endeavor that runs the risk of worsening the situation.

  Part of me wants to laugh, to mock his misstep and cite that he knows better, knows from firsthand experience that sweet little June has a hair-trigger temper.

  Covering his head as if bracing for a blow, he raises his knee and twists away from her. “Don’t hurt me.”

  Stopping, both hands fly to her hips and high color streaks her cheeks. I cringe, waiting for what promises to be a sizzling stream of words, but am shocked when a broad smile stretches her lips and rounds her cheeks. She begins laughing. Lightly at first, her giggles blossom to deep belly laughs. Sully joins her, and I can’t help but join in too.

  For several moments, I forget that the men on the wall, my people, my friends, are not reacting to our arrival. But all that changes in the seconds that I gaze up at them again. Eyes locking on mine, Eric, the man I left in charge of Cassowary in mine and Sully’s absence, sees me. An indecipherable expression carves his features before his gaze flickers to Peter, Luc and the rest of the Urthmen. His eyes widen briefly before narrowing, his posture shifting as he aims his arrow directly at Peter. The rest of the archers on the wall recognize me. They see June, Sully, Oliver and Lark. They see the people we freed. And they see the Urthmen. Everyone repositions, weapons trained on the Urthmen.

  “Hold your fire!” I shout.

  “Avery, don’t move!” Eric’s voice is hoarse, his lips tight. “Archers, fire on my command!”

  “No! Don’t! Don’t fire!” I race ahead a few steps, flailing my arms. “They’re with us!”

  Incredulity causes him to jerk and pull his head back, but he immediately regains his composure, concealing the obvious skepticism he’s feeling. He worries I’ve been coerced into ordering them to hold their fire, that a weapon is pressed at my back, my life in danger. “Just stay put.” Eric’s posture is ramrod straight, his arm bent at the elbows while his fingertips hold his arrow in place. Peter and the others are a heartbeat away from being fired upon.

  “No! Lower your weapons, all of you!” My voice is strong and sure, a far cry from how I feel at the moment. It’s a mystery to me that I mustered the amount of command that translated in my tone. I don’t know where it came from. Regardless of its origins, I’m thankful nonetheless. Several archers lower their bows. Even Eric drops his weapon a fraction of an inch. “These Urthmen are not here to hurt us. They helped rescue our people and fought alongside us.”

  “They did,” Sully vouches for me. “Without them, we’d have never been able to save her and the others,” he says as he gestures to Riley.

  “It’s true,” Oliver adds.

  “Now lower your weapons and open the gate.” My tone does not leave room for argument. Though I do not favor admitting as much, I am the leader of Cassowary, the leader of all four cities.

  Eric, clearly wrestling with a set of beliefs he’s held to his entire life, stares at me, a small lightning bolt shaped vein in his forehead bulging as he tries to comprehend exactly what I’m asking him to do. “You want me to let Urthmen into Cassowary?” His question, clearly genuine and not intended to undermine my authority rings through the early morning atmosphere with wonder so profound it’s almost childlike.

  “Yes, Eric, that’s what I want you to do.”

  His eyes round and a small frown kinks his lips. Overwhelming confusion is scrawled in his features. “But—”

  “These Urthmen are our friends.” Even as I hear myself say the words, I cannot believe them myself. They are true, but still difficult to wrap my mind around.

  Wrenching his head back as if he’s just been slapped in the face by a boulder-sized palm, Eric mutters something unintelligible. He looks to the man on his left then to the one on his right. Each wears a similar expression. All are perplexed. When Eric’s attention returns to us, he swa
llows hard. “Urthmen that are friends.” The sentence comes out as more of a question than a statement, and I realize I’d feel just as he feels if the situation were reversed as early as twenty-four hours ago. I’d have likely fired first and asked questions second. Eric’s handling of the situation is quite remarkable. “The Urthmen are your friends? Really?” Shock vibrates through his voice, and while I understand it, I’m growing weary of it.

  “Eric, open the gate.” I enunciate each word, speaking slowly and clearly.

  He remains as he is for several beats, his mouth partially open and his eyes glazed. I’m about to shout at him to obey my order when he shakes his head, the act so small it’s almost imperceptible, then nods. “Yes. Yes of course, Avery.” He turns from me then signals to the men below who, until he gestured, stood, rapt by what they were hearing. They jerk from their trance-like state and begin turning the large metal wheel. Gears grind and groan and the iron gates slowly part.

  “C’mon.” I give Peter a gentle nudge. He and his son smile nervously. Looking at the two of them, together and standing side by side, I see a strong resemblance. Though all Urthmen bear similar facial characteristics such as breathing holes where noses would reside in humans and generally asymmetrical heads, I’ve noticed that among the group accompanying us many differences are evident. Bone structure, the depth of color in their eyes, the subtle shade variances of their skin, and many more distinctions gives each a unique appearance. But between Peter and his son, a strong familial likeness exists. I can’t help but smile. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay,” I promise them.

  “How can you be so sure?” Peter’s words are muttered under his breath so that only I hear them.

  Patting his shoulder, I look him directly in his eyes. “You didn’t let any harm come our way when you led us to your camp and I won’t let anything happen to you here.”

  His thin, nearly nonexistent lips part as if he’s about to speak but then he clinches them. He bows his head, nodding with a small smile. “Thank you,” he says quietly just as the gate opens fully.

  “Here we go.” I look between Peter and Sully before we take our first steps into Cassowary. Peter and his son fall back, slowing until they walk beside Luc and the other Urthmen.

  The sight of the cobbled pathway, the emerald grass awash in golden rays of light causes my breathing to snag, making me temporarily forget that thousands of people await us, all with the same question burning in their brains: what the heck are we doing bringing a band of Urthmen into our city?

  I’m reminded of that question when I catch sight of roughly a dozen people rushing toward us. At first, excitement glitters in their eyes. They see Sully and June, Oliver, Lark and Arnost. They see me. But then they see that we’re accompanied by what they’ve long held as their mortal enemy. Smiles capsize. Wide eyes narrow. Footsteps halt and those who escort children immediately shove them behind them, shielding their young with their bodies protectively. Nervous fingers fumble with the hilts of blades, causing a wave of nervous twitches to ripple among the Urthmen, and rightly so. As soon as the rough slide of a sword being unsheathed is heard, I halt my steps and say, “Do not draw your weapons, friends. They are with us. These Urthmen are with us.”

  Horrified expressions crease the faces of everyone. Noses scrunched in revulsion and upper lips curled, they look as if they’ve smelled an odor so offensive they dare not breathe. I’d be tempted to laugh if they weren’t justified by experience and history.

  “Please.” I soften my tone and raise my hands to chest height. “I don’t have time to explain. You have to trust me, trust that I would never bring a being within these walls that would hurt any one of you.” I scan their faces, searching for understanding. My eyes land upon Marla, a woman with ebony ringlets who works at the radio communication tower. Directing my words at only her I say, “Call Listowel and Remi. Have them evacuate immediately. The residents of both cities are to come here.”

  “Both cities?” Marla asks somberly.

  “Yes. You’ve heard from them, haven’t you?” I hold my breath as I wait for her answer.

  Bobbing her head quickly, she says, yes, we’ve been in constant contact with them, maintained communication every hour as you instructed us to.” She frowns. “But Galway.” She pauses, inhaling deeply. “We haven’t heard from them. Still no word at all. Were you able to find out what’s happening over there?” She stops speaking suddenly as she spots Oliver. At mention of Galway, his eyes turn glassy with emotion.

  Marla draws a breath and is about to ask what happened but I interrupt her before she does. “Galway is gone,” I say tightly. “I’ll explain later. Right now we need to evacuate the other cities.”

  Marla bobs her head.

  “Tell them we’ll send over all the trucks we have to help with the transport, but it needs to happen fast. We need to start evacuating now.”

  And with my words, Marla turns on her heels and races toward the communication building.

  Marla’s form has not yet disappeared when I turn to the growing crowd surrounding us. The collective energy is frenetic, buzzing all around me like a nest filled with hornets. I realize I must say something. They deserve to know what happened to their friends, their family, in the neighboring city of Galway. I feel long, warm fingers wrap around my hand and give a gentle squeeze. “Just tell them the truth.” Sully’s whispered words caress the shell of my ear, filling me with strength. He lets go of my hand but remains near, his chest at my shoulder comfortingly.

  Clearing my throat, I take a deep breath to steady my nerves then begin. “Everyone, I know you want answers. So much has happened in the short time we’ve been gone.” Conversations quiet, and a hush befalls the group. “We went to Galway. The walls were breached. Everyone there was killed.”

  Murmured conversations swell through the group. Sadness and confusion are tangible.

  “The city was stormed by a new breed of monsters that share our land. They’re called Uganna, and they’re coming for us.”

  Fear gives rise to louder chatter. But as soon as I resume speaking, it is hushed once again.

  “I’ve sent word to Listowel and Remi for them to evacuate. They’re coming here. With them, and with those Urthmen, we will prepare for war.” I wait for gasps and outcries, for protests and gripes. When none occur, I go on. “The Uganna have been killing off Urthmen and humans alike. They stand with us in our fight against these new monstrous beasts.”

  Peter and Luc advance, flanking me on either side. “Avery, Luc has been scouting the Uganna for weeks now. There are dozens of camps like the one where we found my son and your friend. Hundreds of thousands are readying themselves for attack. They outnumber us far too greatly.”

  I give his words a moment to settle on my skin, for them to immerse themselves into my blood. Being outnumbered is not new to us. Humanity has existed as a continual underdog for centuries now. Faced with annihilation once again and this time by a newer deadlier enemy, we have no other choice than to rise to the challenge, to fight. “The walls of Cassowary will hold,” I say with perhaps a bit more confidence than I feel.

  “I hope you’re right. I hope they hold better that the ones at Galway.” Peter’s gaze drills into mine, his tone neither arrogant nor spiteful.

  “We have no other choice. What else can we do? We can’t negotiate. We can’t broker a deal. We have to fight.” I look out at the people around me; look at a thriving civilization I’m not willing to sacrifice. “We need help though. We need more soldiers.”

  Hearing our side conversation, Sully says, “We’re bringing every human being in our cities here.”

  Peter rubs his chin then his forehead. “We need to get my people to fight beside you with us.” He pauses and looks to Luc who clips his head in agreement. “We need to go to Agroth and speak with Dhaval. He’s the head of the Urthmen council, our leader. He needs to know that if he doesn’t fight alongside us he’ll be next. No one is safe as long as the Uganna live.”
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  “We?” Sully arcs a golden-brown brow.

  “Well, yes. If Azlyn, or Avery as you were born, the leader of the humans arrives with us, Dhaval will have to hear us out.”

  Piching the bridge of my nose and feeling the beginning of a headache throb behind my eyes, I try to wrap my mind around the notion of venturing out once again, especially since we just arrived and an attack is imminent. “We can’t leave now. The Uganna will strike. They could do so at any given moment.” I’m careful to keep my voice low so I don’t panic the crowd of people gathered and now huddled in smaller groups, frantically discussing all that they’ve heard.

  “The Uganna aren’t preparing for an attack. Right now, we have a little time.”

  I look at him quizzically.

  “They’re extremely organized. Beastly and bloodthirsty but organized. Before they struck Galway, they prepared for days. There hasn’t been any kind of activity like that since. Trust me, we’ve watched them, studied their habits right down to their feeding patterns.”

  Sighing I tunnel the fingers of both hands through my hair. “We’d have to leave right now?” I glance at June. The thought of leaving her here sends a pang of pain through my chest so pronounced I place my hand over it.

  “It’s hours from here so if we want to return before nightfall, yes, we have to leave right now.” Peter’s gaze vacillates between June and I. “Hopefully we’ll be returning with enough forces to stand a chance against the Uganna.”

  Oliver joins us and chimes in. Lark is near him, her shoulder a breath away from his bicep. He folds his arms across his broad chest. “Urthmen will never fight alongside us.”

  “We are.” Luc shrugs, his tone even and offhand. “Dhaval would be a fool not to because if he doesn’t, all of us, all of your people, all of my people, will be dead.”

  Oliver nods, the gravity of Luc’s words creating a crease between his brows. He considers the fate of all of us—humans and Urthmen alike—just as I do. The Uganna seek to eradicate both species, and unless we unite and fight, they will succeed at doing just that. The Urthmen have estimated that we’re outnumbered three to one. Placed at a disadvantage that great and adding to it that the Uganna are vicious monsters, we need to do whatever it takes to stave them off, to survive. I don’t want to leave, but I know I must. “I’ll go.” My eyes lock on June as I speak the words.