by Janean Worth
Blood spurted from her nose. Pain exploded in her face and her body was driven backward by the force of his blow, her hip bone stuttering painfully across the jouncing bench. She nearly toppled over the side, barely managing to keep herself atop the carriage.
Kara grabbed the bottom of the bench seat with both hands, curling her fingers around the wood in a grip hard enough to break several of her fingernails.
Blood streamed down over her lips and she levered an elbow up to her face to wipe her nose on the material in the crook of her arm, squinting through the blowing wind in order to see in front of the carriage.
The horde of Fidgets was still in front of them. The carriage was directly in the middle of their numbers, with a little more than half of them left in path of the carriage.
To Kara’s surprise, only a few of the beasts were leaping up on the carriage to attack. The rest of them kept running for the gate, no doubt spotting the easier prey there.
Holding on with one hand, Kara knocked one of the Fidgets off of the side of the carriage with a swift kick and then turned back to the driver. She scooted closer carefully.
The man glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but he did not let go of either the reins or the whip to try to drive her back again.
Kara knew that time was running out. The carriage was quickly taking them farther and farther away from the gate. The Sovereign could set the Old Tech off at any moment. She had no idea how far the driver needed to go before the Sovereign thought them to be at a safe enough distance away to detonate the Old Tech.
Kara shook her head to clear away the ringing in her ears and clawed her way over to the driver once more. She used what little leverage she had to shove herself against his side, trying to push him off the other side of the seat, or at least loosen his hold upon the reins, but she was no match for him. His bulk kept him firmly planted on the bench.
He flung her away with a powerful shove from one bent arm and she completely lost her grip upon the seat and him. For a horrifying moment, her feet left the carriage and her body was free‑falling, her hands clutching empty air. But then her fingertips glanced against the bar again, and she managed to catch a handhold before she plummeted to the ground.
Her fingers curled around the cool pipe and her body arced out, and then like a pendulum, was flung back again. Her legs cracked painfully against the side of the carriage.
Gasping, she grabbed the bar with both hands and held on tightly. She looked into the open window near her hip and realized that she had but one choice remaining. She could not overpower the driver; she would have to confront the Sovereign himself.
From inside the darkened carriage, she could see the gleam of his Old Tech eye as he stared at her.
To enter the carriage and put herself completely at his mercy would certainly mean her death, but to stay outside would mean the death of all of those left in GateWide.
She glanced over her shoulder, seeing the Fidgets swarming the entrance to GateWide, the Enforcers battling both the flames and the beasts, the citizens screaming in terror as they scrambled to find a safe place to hide.
Dimly, she could hear Mathew shouting at them all, urging them to leave GateWide, but the pandemonium at the gate prevented escape.
She knew, without a doubt, that if she did not stop the Sovereign, then none of them had any hope at survival at all.
Chapter Thirty-Five
In the light of the blaze that stretched far out over the meadow, Mathew saw Kara lever herself off of the side of the carriage and fling herself inside one of the small windows.
He urged Gallant toward the gate, but the loyal horse would not go. Eyes rolling in terror, he balked at the chaos there.
Unable to get to Kara, Mathew did the only thing that he could do. He tried to save the others.
“Run! You must flee GateWide! The Sovereign is going to destroy it!” Mathew yelled, but no one paid his shouts any heed.
People ran in every direction, ignoring his cries.
Citizens were being trampled beneath the hooves of the horses that the Enforcers rode. Others, who were far enough from the flames, were being attacked by the Fidgets. The Enforcers were trying to battle the beasts and the flames simultaneously.
The Fidgets had formed a line and they ran inside GateWide two and three at a time, making sure to run through the very center of the wide‑open gate, keeping far away from the dwindling flames.
The gate was still burning near the top, but the bottom had been completely eaten by the flames and only glowed ember‑bright in certain areas where tiny pockets of wood remained to feed the ravenous flames.
Weathered and dried by years of guarding the entrance to GateWide, the thick wood had burned much more quickly than Mathew had ever imagined it would. He’d never thought that the entire gate would be reduced to cinders so quickly, or that the small fire that they’d started would burn so fast.
Embers flew in the air as the top of the gate continued to pop and sizzle, and most of the people had stopped their efforts to put out the fire, instead focusing on trying to stay alive. The flames had reached too high and there was no salvaging the gate, anyway.
Once inside, the Fidgets leapt upon anything that moved and they began to attack, rending with sharp claws and teeth.
Screams of terror and pain rose in the air, as Mathew yelled at the churning mass of people once again.
“Flee! Flee! We must get outside GateWide!”
Beneath him, Gallant was trying to back away from the melee. The horse tossed his head, rejecting Mathew’s control on the reins, his massive hooves stomping the ground as the Fidgets neared them.
Mathew gave the reins a little slack and wheeled Gallant in a tight circle as his eyes scanned the devastation around him.
He needed to help those people, yet his mind reeled at the thought of Kara being in the carriage with the Sovereign alone. She was unprotected, and the Sovereign was a monster. If the Sovereign had any chance at all, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Kara, and enjoy the moment while he was doing it.
Gallant screamed in terror as the top of the gate broke free of its mooring to the wall and plummeted down to smash to burning splinters on the ground.
Fidgets, people, and Enforcers scattered in every direction, running to avoid being crushed and set aflame, and Mathew finally saw a clear path through the chaos.
He dug his heels into Gallant’s sides and leaned low over the horse’s shoulder as the beast leapt forward, now also seeing the only avenue of escape open to them.
The horse rushed through the melee and on his way out, Mathew passed so closely by an Enforcer that he was able to see the color of the man’s eyes in the shimmering flames. Able to discern the shape of the man’s face, and his expression of stunned surprise. Able to see that the man was his father.
Gallant flew past the man in an instant, his massive withers bunching and churning as he fled for his life. Mathew tried to wheel the horse about and go back to his father, but Gallant clamped the bit in his teeth, put his head down, and barreled out into the meadow at full speed.
As they broke through the smoky air, careening after the carriage, Gregory’s shout followed him out of the gate.
“Use the Old Tech. It is the only thing that will stop him!”
Mathew called back, yelling to be heard over the din, “Get the people out of GateWide!
Chapter Thirty-Six
Kara fell through the window, landing in an ungraceful heap upon the seat opposite the Sovereign and the two terrified servants.
She sat up just in time to see him raise one hand toward her. Her eyes tracked the movement of the thin stream of red light as he activated his Old Tech. The light moved all of the way across the floor of the carriage before she had time to react.
With a howl, she launched herself at the Sovereign, flinging her slight weight upon his arm and forcing it back down again. There was a popping noise, and a small hole appeared in the bottom of the carriage.
The servant nearest to her levered herself out from under the Sovereign’s embracing arm and, to Kara’s utter surprise, reached over to help Kara force the man’s Old Tech back to his side.
The Sovereign screeched in anger and brought his other arm around to club Kara in the back of the head. She saw stars and felt her scalp split under the blow, but she did not let go of his arm.
Praying for strength, Kara pushed down with all of her might, ignoring the slippery feel of the Sovereign’s rotting flesh beneath her fingers.
“Where is it? Where is the other part of the Old Tech that you are going to use to end GateWide?”
The Sovereign didn’t answer. Instead, he clubbed her again with his other hand.
The metal of the Old Tech bit deeply into the flesh over her shoulder blade this time, tearing her ragged clothing and the skin beneath.
Kara howled in pain and leaned close to the Sovereign’s face.
“Tell me where it is!”
The other servant, eyes goggling with fright, looked panic‑stricken. She was staring at Kara and the Sovereign, face bleached of all color.
Suddenly the servant moved, and Kara hoped for a second that the girl would try to help as the first servant was doing. But before Kara could even scream a denial, the girl had jumped up from the bench, flung open the side door of the carriage, and leapt out.
Kara heard the girl’s scream echo out across the meadow as the carriage thundered into the darkness.
“Silvie!” the other girl shrieked in horror, letting go of the Sovereign’s shoulder to rush over to the open door. “Silvie!”
Kara struggled to hold down the Sovereign’s arm as the girl leaned out of the doorway, yelling into the darkness behind them.
The Sovereign, though ill and mad with disease, was still stronger than she was. He grunted with effort but managed to begin to raise his arm once more.
The stream of light on his Old Tech activated again, and there was another pop. This time a long, thin gash appeared in the floor, a slender stream of fire edging the line of separated wood.
The Sovereign laughed, his fetid breath gusting into her face with such force that she gagged.
He reached forward with his other hand and grabbed her hair, ripping her head to the side so that she lost her balance. As she toppled over, he raised his other arm and flung her to the side.
Kara fell to the floor, her head and shoulders knocking into the other girl. The girl gave a shrill, shocked scream and toppled from the carriage out the open door.
“And now, dear Kara, you die,” the Sovereign said, looking down at her as he raised his arm, the thin red light travelling up over her body until a dot of it rested against her chest, directly over her heart.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mathew urged Gallant into a gallop, and the horse stretched out and gave it his all. Gallant was eager to get away from the fire and the attacking Fidgets and he needed barely any urging at all.
Mathew let the horse have his head and Gallant stopped biting the bit and ran.
Mathew searched the darkness ahead for the carriage, but he didn’t have to search hard. Its large bulk was easily located, even in the darkness.
He followed a trail of dead and dying Fidgets toward the Old Forest, able to hear the rumbling of the huge conveyance as it thundered over the meadow ahead of him.
As he neared the racing carriage, Mathew heard a scream and saw a shape tumble from the carriage. A girl fell to the ground, rolled, and then leapt to her feet and began running off into the darkness.
Moments later, another shape was launched from the carriage, and another shrill, feminine scream echoed out across the meadow.
This girl hit a bit harder, but as Mathew drew even with her on Gallant, she picked herself up off of the ground and staggered after the first girl.
“Silvie! Silvie, wait!” she yelled, hobbling off into the darkness, ignoring the bodies of the Fidgets all around them.
And then Mathew heard another scream and saw another body tumble from the carriage, and his heart seemed to stutter to a stop within his chest. He had recognized the voice of the screaming girl that time.
A shiver of gooseflesh shot down his spine as the body tumbled to the ground, limp, looking lifeless. Kara did not try to block her fall with her arms. She didn’t try to catch herself on her feet as she fell. Her body was not responsive at all, and Mathew winced as it hit the ground and Kara lay as still as a corpse.
“No!” Mathew shouted into the uncaring darkness. “NO! Kara!”
On a gust of wind, he heard the maniacal laugh of the Sovereign echo out over the meadow as the carriage barreled onward.
Rage erupted inside him, warring with the panic he felt at seeing Kara’s body lying so still on the ground. After it resumed beating, his heart felt as if it would pound out of his chest and he urged Gallant on to even greater speed, trying to reach Kara in time. Trying to save her.
As he neared her body, he pulled back on the reins, urging Gallant to halt. Before the horse had even come to a full stop, Mathew was leaping out of the saddle. He rushed over to Kara.
Her body lay very still, face down. He couldn’t tell if she was breathing. He reached down to roll her over, to look into her face, but he hesitated at the last moment, his fingertips inches from her shoulders.
What if she was dead? If he rolled her over, he would know. If she was gone, if her soul no longer inhabited her body, then he couldn’t unknow that knowledge. He wouldn’t be able to unsee her dead eyes if they stared back at him. His fingers twitched. He wanted to know so badly that she was alive, but he couldn’t bear the thought of knowing that she was dead.
Gritting his teeth against the horror, he reached out gently and turned her body face up. Her eyes were not open. They were not staring blankly up at the sky, at him, as he’d feared.
Trembling with dread, he called her name, with his voice a dry croak of panic.
“Kara?”
She did not respond.
Still afraid to touch her, afraid to know, he reached out again and felt her thin neck for a pulse. His hands shook so badly that the effort was useless.
Sighing with dread, he put his ear to her chest, listening for signs of life.
And he heard a faint heartbeat, and then the rush of air through her lungs.
Overjoyed, he sat back up again, his heart fluttering with hope. And love. Such overwhelming love filled him at that moment that he couldn’t contain it all. Some of it leaked out of one eye, captured inside a single tear of overwhelming relief.
“Kara?” he croaked again, leaning toward her face.
A gust of wind blew across the meadow, playing with a strand of her hair, and in its passing, Mathew felt a coolness on his cheek that should not have been there. A wet coolness, too much to be caused by a single tear of relief.
He swiped at the wetness, and his hand came away stained. Holding it up to catch the faint moonlight, his entire palm glimmered black in the darkness.
He gasped, and then he smelled it. The iron scent of blood.
“Kara . . .” he moaned, knowing that the blood came from her. “Oh, Kara. Why did you do it?”
He felt around her torso, his fingers questing over the rags that she called clothing until he met silken cloth under the rags. With a pang, he realized that, under all of her other garments, she was wearing the blouse that he’d given to her. It seemed an eternity ago. If only he could go back to that happy moment.
The silken shirt was sliced open over her abdomen in a vicious, deep arc. Beneath it, she bled freely.
Mathew held back a cry.
He raised his head and looked after the carriage, still able to easily see its lumbering bulk in the faint light of the moon as the carriage raced across the meadow. For a moment, a vague thought penetrated the horror in his brain, and he realized that he should go after the Sovereign. He should try to prevent the man from using the Old Tech to destroy GateWide, try to stop him from killing the others, before he coul
d remove what civilization was left from the face of the planet. For just a moment, Mathew knew it was the right thing to do. That it was, certainly, what Kara would have wanted him to do.
But then he felt again the blood on his cheek and hand, Kara’s blood, and rage and horror shut out rational thought.
He looked down at Kara and realized that he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to help her. It had always been Kara, with her knowledge of herbal medicine garnered from her studies to become a Gatherer, who had helped those who were injured. Or, if not Kara, when they were lucky, a tracken had helped to heal grievous wounds.
But Mathew didn’t know how to help her. The person whom he cared about most in the world lay before him, bleeding profusely, dying. And he just sat there, because he didn’t know what to do. Panic of such ferocity roared through him at this thought that it left him shaking, his thoughts buzzing with a prelude of the stark terror losing her would bring.
“Why Kara . . . Why did you have to?” he moaned. He leaned down to pick up her slight weight, holding her against his chest as he pressed a hand gently to her wound.
“Because . . . it was . . . the right . . . thing,” Kara said, her voice a mere whisper of breath against his cheek. “Please . . . try . . . to save . . . them . . .”
Mathew’s body shook with feeling and he clutched her closer, as if his proximity could somehow protect her from death that loomed so close.
“No, Kara,” he whispered. “I need to help you. You are all that matters.”
“No . . . time . . .” Kara whispered, then coughed. And coughed again. Blood bubbled from her lips, looking black as a thin stream ran down her pale chin in the moonlight.
She shuddered once, and then went still, her eyes rolling back in her head as her lashes fluttered closed to cover them.
“Kara?” Mathew said, shaking her gently to bring her back to consciousness.
She didn’t respond.
“Kara?” he yelled, hoping that the panic in his voice would jerk her awake.