The Root

by Na'amen Tilahun

  Movement among the fallen caught her sight.

  Two boys, perhaps a bit younger than herself, the hunger showing clearly in their faces and forms, skittered about the street. They had a system: roll over the dead and dying, strip them of anything valuable; if the form fought back, a crude knife flashed in the dragon-light and they were still. They obviously knew the area well, ducking around pillars and avoiding large cracks in the pavement without looking.

  The larger one—by an inch at most—had pink-rashed pale skin almost completely hidden by streaks of filth that shone in the flashes of light. The other boy was shorter, his skin a dark brown covered in less dirt, and the hair cut closely and crookedly was a rich black. She could most likely avoid them fairly easily; they were very focused on their prey.

  But there was another option, perhaps they could help each other? She dug into her hip bag and smiled as her hand closed around something cold and sharp.

  She was about to call to them when both froze and their heads snapped in her direction. They started for the corner she was sheltered behind. Rather than wait for them to have the advantage, she stepped out into the street. They stopped ten feet away from her and tilted their heads in unison.

  “Fair night. There are bigger rewards this evening than the baubles you steal.”

  The boys smiled, not nice ones by any means. She saw the larger one’s hand tighten on the crude bone knife in his fist. She could see the edge glistening with something. Slowly she lifted her hand, filled and spilling over with silver and red. She held it to her throat and shivered at the chill as it encircled her neck.

  The boys were not moving forward, but neither were they smiling any longer.

  “See me safely to Kandake Athenaeum and you shall be rewarded.”

  There was no mistaking the torc that glistened and settled around her neck, strings of pearled silver and fresh-blood red that encircled her throat and marked her. She shivered as the edges dug into her skin, settling into a collar that was a mark of ownership and prestige.

  The boys glanced at each other, the smaller one stepping forward to whisper in his companion’s ear. He nodded and turned to her.

  “What exactly is in it for us?”

  He did not question her, despite the imitations that abounded among some of the more affluent ’dant families. None but the Athenaeums could work the living metal and jewels that flowed around her neck.

  “Sanctuary.” An offer of sanctuary was one of the Athenaeums’ sources of power; any ’dant could request it. They weren’t obliged to grant it, but refusals were few and far between. If necessary the Athenaeum’s walls could even hold off the Ruling Courts. Though if they got to that, there were far, far worse things to worry over. They would likely be overwhelmed with sanctuary requests in the morning.

  “We’re fine.”

  “Are you?” She took a step forward, folding her hands in the loose fabric of her tunic to hide their shaking. Exhaustion and fear felt like it had replaced her blood, filling her body in a tide she was constantly fighting against. She gestured to the building to their right with a nod of her head.

  They glanced over and the boy nodded, taking her meaning.

  “Still, we don’t want to be inside for the rest of our lives. Having to listen to you and your Holder. That is no more freedom than living under the Courts.” He spit a large wad of brown-colored saliva to the side.

  “My Holder can settle you in another city.” Now she was promising more than she was allowed, not simply toeing the line as she had with the offer of sanctuary but leaping completely over it.

  The boys looked at one another again and finally the darker one nodded.

  “I’m Wade. This is my brother Antny. This way.” They turned and began to trot down Gotha, Lil losing some of her fear in the adrenaline and the dash to keep up with them. She did not know if what she offered them was a huge reward. Another city would have its own Antes and its own Courts, but she did not insult their intelligence by pointing this out. Perhaps they had some other history they wished to flee from.

  They knelt in an alley, Lil behind the brothers, watching them. Wade started forward when Antny grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the sheltering dark of the alley.

  Wade simply crouched down again, this time with the patience of someone waiting. Only seconds later she heard it. A rumble of noise coming from the direction of the Ruling Courts, half heard through the ears and half felt through the vibrations slamming up through the soles of her feet. Antny leaned over his brother, also looking down the street, and Lil moved carefully behind them on tiptoe to lean over both of them and see.

  They came over the hill like a parade.

  Like a hunt.

  A wave of Antes. Some moved under their own power, feet and spines and wings and wheels and tentacles moving them forward. Others rode on crikes that skittered along in the confusion. None of the larger varieties of crikes were present, only small, quick, personal breeds that seated one or two forms. Those Antes who looked more like ’dants and had the limbs for it rode bicycles and scooters, weaving in and out of the mass. Above them were the Antes that flew on wings and air on leather and fins, along with dragons of every color and shade. They flew in all directions, some carrying passengers on their back or carefully in the cages of their legs. They shone dragon-light down, filtering through their multiple wings, reflecting off their segmented carapaces.

  The group was at least one hundred Ante strong, more than any ’dant in Zebub had probably seen outside of a hunt. Zebub was not like the suburban all-’dant-colonies the city owned. Lil saw Antes fairly often but almost always from afar. So much Ante business and ruling over their districts happened through ’dant families who served them.

  She stared. A few had the basic body shape of herself and other ’dants, but far more looked odd—the easiest to describe was a large ball of transparent flesh covered with eyes. There were those who flipped through the air, thin as pieces of paper, mouths opening to pull in air and then spewing it downward to keep themselves aloft, cyclones of black storm clouds that spun, occasional eyes appearing in their depths. She even mistook some of the figures for riderless crikes until they rose onto their hind legs and she saw the control in the way they moved and that they had eyes.

  It was the most beautiful and dangerous thing Lil had ever seen.

  The boys in front of her seemed to stop breathing as they crouched back and the group passed them in a riot of blacks and blood-reds, ivories and pinks, violets and blues. Every color imaginable passed as she watched and the three of them huddled together in the small alley.

  She stayed silent until the horde had passed. Long after they could no longer hear them, the boys refused to move.

  “Do you know what’s happening?” Antny’s quiet voice surprised her.

  She considered lying but doubted she could create a lie that would explain all that had happened tonight.

  “No,” Lil said, the word dropping into the silence, causing both of the boys’ shoulders to fall, their bodies to droop. “But I am certain we will receive answers at the Athenaeum.”

  The words had the desired effect and they began moving again. As the adrenaline faded from her Lil struggled to keep up, not to stumble. Though they at times encountered noises and shapes that appeared backlit by fires of the three moons.

  All three sisters rode high tonight—Shelgig, the red bleeding mother; Rona, the white regretful killer; and Rythi, the blue carefree daughter casting a number of conflicting shadows. It always turned out to be fellow refugees. Most did not look like they knew where they were going, simply moving forward, their eyes shocked and dead. Some were headed for Kandake. There was no sign of Thiot in those final few blocks. A sign to be sure, both good and bad. They had not been killed on the way to Kandake, but neither had Thiot been sent back for her.

  She pushed her heavy feet faster and finally Kandake Athenaeum was in their sight.

  It was blazing with light, a sight that made Lil
pause. She could see shadows moving in every window, ’dants speaking to one another, holding one another, crying on each other. She had never seen the Athenaeum so full.

  As they got closer, Lil could see that Thiot’s pen near the front sat empty. She broke into a run, now only thirty feet from the doors, anxious to make sure her sibs were all right. The pounding footsteps of Wade and Antny followed her. She spared them a thought, worried they thought she was going to renege on her promise. She brushed the worry away; she had no intention of doing so and Minnie and Davi were all that mattered now. The last remnants of her family.

  The nothingness came out of the shadows as if it had been there the whole time. She knew right away this was no shapeshifter Ante. Most had one form, maybe two, but this thing cycled through several forms in seconds. Mouths and eyes appeared and dissolved; wings and legs and things she had no names for formed and reached for her before melting away. A tentacle lashed in her direction and a piece of it broke off, glittered in the air, flew toward her.

  She skidded to the side, her mind already racing through any Babel that might help. The projectile stopped in midair, turned and raced for her. The Babel clawed its way from her mouth like a living thing, scratching at her sore throat until all she could taste was blood. It flew from her mouth, meaning: shatter and dissolve and banish all at once. The nothingness screeched as the shard broke apart before her face; her momentum carried her through and she felt pinpricks of cold all over her skin.

  She opened her mouth, spit blood to the side, and felt the chill numbness landing on her tongue. She could hear the sounds of people in front of her and the pounding of her two companions behind her. She heard a yell but did not stop; she had no idea now if Kandake would offer any sanctuary but she had no other choice. She could think of nothing else to do. She heard screams behind her and still she ran, wishing she could cover her ears.

  Only a few feet from the door, she saw someone behind the frosted glass.

  “Down!” It was muffled but Lil understood and fell flat to the ground. The sound of breaking glass echoed and she felt something gently falling on her. When she looked to the side, tiny black granules littered the ground, none of them giving off the same coldness as the piece she had shattered.

  The girl on the other side of the door smiled at her and reached to pull it open.

  Lil did not delay as tears slipped down her face. She could not look behind her where the screaming continued unabated, where she had led two boys to a painful death.

  RAZEL

  The Kandake Holder-Apprentice, Liliana, was not what she expected. She had done research on her two fellow Holder-Apprentices in Zebub. Haydn was nothing but a thug with an unusual talent, but Liliana had been a surprise. Apprenticed to the most powerful ’dant in Zebub, which arguably made Liliana the second most powerful ’dant, yet quiet as a mouse as far as Razel could discover. The few accounts from those who interacted with her outside the Athenaeum, even Holder Riana’s most trusted informants, yielded nothing scandalous.

  Liliana liked to read, never threw her weight around, and never accompanied Holder Mayer on his trips to the Ruling Courts, where they sometimes crossed paths as they each performed their own grotesque favors. It made her shiver just thinking of that room under the Hive of Sorrow and Riches. She and Riana were both puzzled as to why this weak young woman had been chosen.

  Razel looked down at the young woman in question, back pressed to the glass of the door, fists clenched, breathing heavily through her mouth.

  Perhaps she was simply jealous of the power Liliana could wield if she so chose? After all, she had no evidence that Liliana was weak. She just had no evidence the woman was particularly strong. Still, the girl she had researched personally would not have braved the night streets, especially when Zebub was under attack. So what had happened to change it?

  Liliana finally opened her eyes. She met Razel’s gaze.

  “Where are my sibs?”

  “You mean the boys outside? They died.” Razel saw no point in sugarcoating the truth. Truth was truth, no matter how long delayed or how flowery. And she wanted to see Liliana’s reaction.

  Liliana’s face broke, so shattered Razel expected it to fall in pieces to the ground. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and the blank mask was back in place.

  Interesting. This woman was a puzzle and Holder Riana had trained Razel to never give up on a puzzle, human or mechanical.

  “No. I do not mean the two who came with me. I sent my sibs on Thiot.”

  “I do not know Thiot but I have been here since near Yanwan set and have seen no children.”

  Liliana’s eyes snapped to catch her own and she saw the shock swirling within, the pain that threatened to engulf her. Razel took a step forward and frowned as she stepped in something sticky. Looking down, she saw the small pool of blood spreading from the woman’s feet.

  “Take me to Holder Mayer. Now.”

  Razel straightened. “It would behoove you to be more respectful. You are injured and weak, and I am a stranger.”

  Without breaking their gaze, Liliana leveraged herself up. Standing ramrod straight, they were the same height.

  “I know who you are.” Here her gaze shot to Razel’s right arm, then back to her face with a smirk. “You are in my place, you stay here on my sufferance. Now take me to Holder Mayer.”

  Razel nodded, not because she felt threatened—the girl was technically correct but in no condition to enforce her rights. Instead she was impressed. Liliana had just become even more interesting.

  She led the way through the foyer and up the main staircase, not looking back or acknowledging the injured woman she led. Instead she looked at the rainbow explosion of books that lined every surface; the elaborate wall hangings in languages like nothing she’d ever seen; the curving wood railings and light vines crawling across the ceiling, illuminating the whole place with a soft glow.

  Perhaps she did envy Kandake its opulence.

  Hypatia sacrificed beauty for utility. Most travel through the archives was done via plain metal box elevators, the shelves were plain metal, and there were no great hanging tapestries or beautifully bound books. The words they kept at Hypatia were all electric, miles and miles of black type on white screens.

  Razel led her to the meeting room her Holder and the rest were currently gathered in. She could hear raised voices as they approached. She had left the room when the argument started and had been wandering Kandake on her own. Everyone had been so involved in yelling at one another that only Holder Riana had taken note of her leaving. She knew that Kandake was larger than her own Athenaeum, but she had not realized how much so. While Hypatia concentrated on electronics and mechanics and Enheduanna focused on art, philosophy, and their bastard child alchemy, Kandake stored knowledge and learning across a breadth of disciplines.

  She touched books of fiction and sculpture; classic Poetic Eddas shared shelf space with folktales of Corpiliu and firsthand accounts of skirmishes with other cities. There were authors called Darwin and Adichie, Herto of Ghe’ean, Butler, Yu, Asara of Zebub, Gladstone, Rankine and more. Texts she longed to read, but Holder Riana would never approve of her spending so much time at another Athenaeum.

  The space was so large that it was only luck that had placed her near the front door when Liliana had arrived.

  She moved inside, feeling the faltering presence of the girl at her back.

  Holder Mayer, Holder Krezida, and Holder-Apprentice Haydn were still yelling at one another, though the Holders were focused on each other, ignoring the young man. Chayyliel had joined in with both the mouth on the face and the two openings on its shoulders. Holder Riana was leaning back and watching.

  Riana noticed them first, of course, followed by Chayyliel. Both went silent.

  Liliana pushed past her, stumbling clumsily to the table they were gathered around. As she fell into the table, leaning her weight against it, Razel noticed the dark spots under her feet and tensed. She relaxed as
she realized they were not the nothingness; these pulsed with life. She saw the gaps and realized that the Nif were working together, cushioning the girl’s raw and ragged feet.

  Mayer spoke first.

  “Lil, what happened? Didn’t Thiot get there in time?” He moved around the table, holding out his hands to his Apprentice. Her hand shook as she held it up to stop him.

  “Where are my sibs?” She did not look at Mayer but at Chayyliel as she voiced the question.

  “How am I to know?” The mouths on its shoulders stayed silent but frowning.

  “I sent them off to safety with members of your House and Court. Now they are gone, as is Thiot. Where are my sibs?”

  Razel took a step back. It was a question but not truly. Her tone demanded answers and she doubted that Chayyliel would take it well. The Ante stared at Liliana for a time and was silent. Razel held her breath. He could kill her right now, and she could offer little resistance. It would depend if Mayer was willing to defend her.

  Instead of the swift death that Razel expected to witness, Chayyliel’s unnatural stillness broke and it turned to face the two Antes guarding the door they’d entered through. Liliana started as if she had not seen them when she passed. Razel was not surprised; the young woman was running on shock and adrenaline, she could see it in the way the girl’s hands shook, the way her eyes were unfocused and glazed, the slowness of her reactions.

  The Ante who came forward was tiny, half the size of herself. Short enough to only come up to her waist and unnaturally slim. His skin was a pale pink with bright red undertones, in places the color striated so much it looked like exposed muscle. The only feature on its face was the small black pinhole for a mouth.

  A Turms.

  Chayyliel leaned down and whispered to the other Ante and the little one tilted its head to the side, listening, before tilting its head back and whistling out an odd tune. Chayyliel nodded and looked up.