by J R Devoe
The existence of survivors such as Deka not only threatens Jexa’s reputation, but once the Magister finds out the Watchers have been exterminating races like those he’s sworn to protect, he’ll send her and her minions to the Dark. Somehow the sapiens escaped her campaign to clear this land of shadows before we started our reclamation of this planet, and she will not take that slip up lightly. Every breath these sapiens take whittles away at her wicked name and threatens her very life. So she will not rest until they are bones in the sand. She may already be leading a large company here to clear them out herself.
Luckily, a storm is brewing to the east. And one thing the Watchers and I have in common is our vulnerability to rain.
I follow the coast toward black clouds swirling over grey water. At the edge of the storm, where the first drops of rain spatter my face, I turn north over the sea. Before I can stray too far from the safety of land, an Aeri swoops down to meet me. Wind from her massive feathered wings blasts my hair.
“You plan on going for a swim?” she warns with an arrogant smirk and a nod to my translucent wings. Already I feel mist gathering on them, which has them buzzing faster to dispel the build up of moisture.
“Your work here must wait,” I say, feeling my throat tighten.
The Aeri leader frowns at me.
I swallow hard to loosen up for the lie. Recalling how I’ve heard senior Servants speak, I muster my best grown-up voice and say, “I bring a message from Ko Mirah. They need rain for a special project—one of great importance to the Councilry.”
The Aeri leader’s frown deepens to a look of suspicion. She hovers back away from me for a better appraisal.
“I’ve heard nothing of this project,” she says.
“It’s an emergency trial, for the Magister’s inspection. Something bad happened to the last planet we regenerated and they’re blaming your work. They say you fouled the soil with toxic rain.”
The Aeri’s eyes flash wide, her hands going to her throat as if she’s choking. Then her eyes narrow on me with accusation. Though her skepticism is rightly placed, she should have little reason to suspect anyone other than an Ori of trickery. Our earth-working cousins almost went to war once with the Aeri over the claim that the Aeri, in their rush, failed to scrub toxins from the upper atmosphere. They countered that it was poor workship by the Ori that had tainted the soil. But I see this flock leader is not convinced by me. I see she wants to go discuss the matter with Ko Mirah. I can’t let that happen.
“Right now I’m on my way to deliver a message to the Grand Councilry,” I say. “I’ll be speaking with them before day’s end. Shall I pass on your refusal to do their bidding?”
The Aeri’s eyebrows raise while I keep my face hard as stone. She clenches her fists and crosses her arms, her shoulders hunching as her gaze drifts to grey clouds swirling over the eastern forest. Over Ko Mirah’s Hive.
“Where is this project?” she says.
I twirl to face west, so that my back is to the Aeri when I release a sigh of relief. Pointing to where the north coast curves south, I say, “There. Make it rain for the next seven nights. Then you may return to your work up here.”
“We can get started,” the Aeri says, then nods to the east, “but we won’t make decent rainfall for another day. Had to send half my flock east to put out a Hive fire.”
“Hive fire?” It’s all I manage to say before an invisible hand squeezes my throat. Horrible images flash in my mind’s eye as I connect some dreadful dots: Watchers flying overhead, in fewer numbers than they’d set out with… Revenge hot on their minds… Them knowing the Hive that welcomes the local dust maiden… Revenge on their minds…
Revenge!
I shoot like a bolt of lightning away from the Aeri leader without another word. I fly hard east over desert toward the green horizon, where the swirling grey clouds over Ko Mirah’s Hive have already thickened to black. Only, as I get closer, I see that it is not the molecular bonds formed by the Aeri that give the clouds their black shade, but a plume of smoke billowing up from below.
I clutch my belly as I feel a storm swell up within me. I’m going to be sick. If a few of those Hivers had managed to hold out on hating me for this long, they’ll have no reason to not seal my exile if I brought Jexa’s wrath upon them.
• • •
It’s worse than I thought. Much, much worse.
I cling to a tree and allow cold rain to pelt my skin and soak my wings. Below, wisps of grey smoke rise from smoldering ash piles, where only a few hours ago there stood trees… where there once stood the closest thing to a Hive I ever knew.
Hundreds of crows swirl above in a hurricane of black feathers. Their raving caws are enough to drive me mad. A murder crying murder.
“It was Jexa herself,” Mora says from the branch beside me. “The Watcher Marshal has gone mad, deaf to the orders of even a Ko Elder.”
Ko Mirah. Tears swell behind my eyelids. I have no doubt she lies where a dozen Fori have gathered beside the Heart Spire’s charred stump.
The rain batters me so hard I can no longer sustain my grip on the tree. I slide down the mossy trunk and come to rest in a cradle of roots.
A shuddering sob rises from around the trunk. I risk a peek and see Sheffa kneeling over Squiggs, whose eyes are closed and her hands folded over her navel.
When Sheffa looks up and notices me watching, her puffy eyes flash wide with fury. “Ya wasn’t satisfied with just makin’ dust, was ya! Had to go turnin’ everything to ash, too!”
I clutch my heart. I can see why she thinks this is my fault, and for a milder punishment she’d be right. But looking around at the bodies strewn among heaps of ash, it’s clear Jexa overreacted. Though the Watcher Marshal may cast punishment in minor cases, she cannot commit a massacre based on the actions of a single ward. This is downright criminal.
“Nya,” says a voice from behind. It’s harsh, yet fully defeated.
I turn to see Vera, Ko Mirah’s primary understudy, standing between us. Her soot-covered cheeks are streaked with tears.
“Ko Mirah left you a final message.”
My heart squirms in my belly. Final message?
“She wants the violence to end here,” Vera says. “I know you’re not in the habit of following orders, but you will grant our Elder her last wish.”
My heart quivers. Last wish? Her choice of words hits me like a punch to the gut.
“Did you hear me?” Vera says. “You won’t fight Jexa.”
Fight Jexa? Does she think me crazy? Though, I suppose if she heard that I was willing to trap a few Watchers in a cave then I might be mad enough to challenge their leader.
I nod.
“Say it!” growls Vera through clenched teeth. Her two shaking fists suggests she wants to hit me.
“I swear it,” I say. “I won’t fight Jexa.” Fighting is a Watcher’s game, anyway. I will do more than that. I shall seek justice with my words.
Vera turns to join the cluster of Fori and Ori whispering the passage rites around Ko Mirah’s body. They must know it’s all for nothing. She defied Jexa and now her spark is doomed to the Dark. It doesn’t take long for Mora to confirm this.
“She refused to reveal who trapped the Butcher party,” Mora says from behind me, “so Jexa took her spark.”
Wailing and sobs rise loud over the rain. They are stricken with grief and need someone to blame, and I am an easy target. But this is all on Jexa. And Jexa has given me an opportunity to shine a light onto her methods. I can’t undo death, but I can see that she answers for at least this crime.
“I’ll tell the Grand Councilry what happened here,” I say, but my choked words are only a whisper. Over the pattering rain and sobs, they are nothing. But they will bring down Jexa. This Hive has served faithfully since my mother’s rebellion.
Rather than await the Magister’s arrival at the next New Moon, Jexa has given the Councilry cause to summon him at once. This may all be settled before Deka even reaches the
forest.
I nod with resolve and wipe the tears from my eyes. It looks like I’ll be meeting the protector of Light and Life earlier than planned.
10
—
DEKA
THE SEA HAD CLAIMED FIFTEEN of our colony’s bravest souls in the one year we were allowed to fish. I know that’s why Marlok assigned me to fishing duty at my turning of eight. Two months of night sailing with a mentor was all the training I had when they gave me my own boat. Whether I returned empty-handed or with a bountiful catch in my net, the look on Marlok’s face was always the same: disappointment. He didn’t even try to hide it. From my first solo venture I knew the only thing that would please him was for me to not return.
Today, I’ll grant him that wish.
I lift the chest lid and flinch at its groaning hinges. The noise seems to echo all the way to the Grand Gallery, so I must be quick. I rummage through the trunk of stored fishing gear and gather two cans full of fishhooks. Setting them aside, I continue my search until I find a spool of fishing wire. That’s all I need from here, so I ease the lid shut and slip out into the passageway.
I slink down the dark tunnel toward the fisherman’s gate. It’s night, so there’s no circle of light to guide me to the end, but the salty breeze blowing on my face grows stronger with every step and assures me of my direction.
The cans of fishhooks rattle in my shaking hands, so I hold them tight to my chest. My shuddering breath rises to replace the clamor.
“Jexa.” I whisper that name into the dark. Jexa… The killer of my mother; the killer of many mothers. Saying the beast’s name aloud gives me a measure of power I’ve not known until now, for I no longer seek a nameless enemy. I now have a clear target and an absolute means to its end. I will save my colony and, with any luck, return with that creature’s head. Only then may we begin our climb out of darkness.
I emerge onto the beach under a sky full of stars. The spattering of white dots across the black ceiling that covers our world never fails to inspire me. Even now, in my rush, I take the time to crane my neck back to admire the bulging seam of white that stretches from horizon to horizon.
Jexa, echoes the voice in my head. Magister. Two factors in an equation that equal Justice. Hope rises in me, but it is not without its doubt. What variables stand in my way? This is unknown territory I venture into, even if my ancestors had once charted every rock. This is not the same world. The Earth of Man died a long time ago.
Despite this, my heart beats with a thrill I’ve suppressed for so long. I’ve explored the world through words more than anyone who still lives. It’s time for an adventure of a more immersive nature. It’s time for me to expand our understanding of this planet. All I need is Nya’s signal to embark on this epic journey of discovery. I’m now wishing I’d pressed her more to tell me what to watch for.
I follow the cliff face in the opposite direction of the crevice. My polymer boat rests where I left it, upside down and buried in enough sand to resemble a dune. The commotion of the evacuation’s reversal had provided me a narrow window to slip into the mariner’s hold and drag it outside, though I’m never sure who may be lurking in the dark. That doubt had plagued me all afternoon. It’s clear now that I’d made a clean escape.
I scoop away the sand with both hands. My heart beats faster with each handful removed, from both exertion and excitement. If anyone knew what I was up to they’d surely think me crazed just from the smile on my face.
“Halt,” orders a voice from behind.
My heart obeys, holding still for at least three beats before resuming its frantic race. I turn to see Mali with her crossbow half raised.
“You know G-Ma ordered we keep those locked away,” she reminds.
“I know that and more,” I’m quick to say. I’d spent my free time rehearsing a variety of excuses should a sentry find me, but none will work on the person who knows me best. “I know that if we stick to our ways, I will bury you all and watch our race fade into darkness. As the last survivor, I will bear a pain greater than any human to have ever lived.” My dreams have warned me of this fate on many a night. I shake my head at Mali and say, “That I cannot do. I’d sooner risk dying with a sliver of hope in my heart.”
Mali lowers her crossbow, but keeps it at the ready. “How?”
“Nya—”
Mali squeezes her crossbow and growls.
I continue. “Nya knows of a great authority that can save us.”
“You believe her?” Mali says, her mouth agape as if it’s the most ludicrous thing she’s ever heard.
“She lost her mother to the same creature that took ours.”
“So she says.”
I shrug. “It is only my life I risk in this. I will give it gladly for this chance, however small that turns out to be.”
Mali hugs her crossbow and turns away, kicking rocks as she shakes her head and mutters to herself. I carry on brushing sand away from my boat.
“You’re really willing to bet your life on this?” Mali says.
I nod without hesitation. Even if something stops us from making it all the way to see this Magister, there’s much I can learn from a bit more time with Nya.
“I always hated when Marlok called you a coward,” Mali says, kicking a rock out to sea. “Doing this proves you’re either really brave, or just stupid beyond any level I’ve ever heard of.” She huffs and releases a nervous laugh. “Okay. We’ll need more weapons, and more fresh water than you have there. I’m not much of a mariner, but you know my company and singing are second to none.”
I want to laugh with relief. Instead, I step forward and take Mali’s hand. “There’s no one else I’d rather have at my side in this, but I must go alone. The colony needs its finest warrior guarding our gates while I’m gone.”
Mali pokes my chest. “You need someone watching your back.” She grits her teeth. “Especially with that Nya creature around. I don’t trust it even the slightest.”
I know Mali well enough to know she won’t let me leave without her, and her estimation is true. I’ve not smuggled enough water for both of us. Even under strict ration, I’ll be lucky to get two days out of it. Only now do I realize I’ve abandoned part of my scientific reason in hopes of a miracle.
Mali backs away toward the cave entrance. “I won’t be long. Huxley is on lookout tonight. If anyone asks what I’m doing, I’ll say he asked me to fetch him some provisions to cover my watch.”
Considering Huxley’s affection for Mali, I myself would never question why he’d fill in the gaps left by her removal from the sentry rotations. So I nod and send her on her way.
I flip the boat onto its keel and rub sand from the gunwale. As I do this, I can’t deny my heart now beats a little easier. Mali will indeed offer great company, and she isn’t too bad with a crossbow either. Plus, she has the eyes of a hawk. On the sea this quality will prove invaluable.
This thought brings a great oversight to my attention. The sea can be many things, and blinding is one of them. I’ll be sailing in daylight without goggles. Having Mali’s will allow us to take turns between watching and sleeping.
The sea. Its salty breeze has misted my nostrils for so long that I can now sense a change in the air. This sudden shift is strange, yet not entirely unfamiliar. I’m stepping toward the tide line to investigate when Marlok’s voice stops me dead.
“Don’t put up a fight, Deka.”
I whirl around to face a dozen warriors marching out from the fisherman’s gate. Mali walks behind her brother.
I give her a rueful glare. This betrayal cuts so deep I can’t even find words to throw at her. I doubt there’s even a word in my mother’s dictionary for how I feel right now.
“It’s for your own good,” she says, but she can’t even look at me when she says it. She did this to regain trust with Marlok. To make up for letting me outside during her sentry watch that led to our discovery. By reeling me in, she’s hoping for redemption. She doesn’t realize she just d
oomed us all.
• • •
They escort me below, Huxley leading the way, with six warriors following close behind me. They tap their spear butts on the ground every few steps, to remind me that they’re armed. To intimidate me. This solid, unified pounding eventually disintegrates to a rattle.
Rather than throw me straight into the ‘pit’, they take me to the chamber where earlier in the day they held Nya. Marlok reminds Mali that she’s been suspended from her warrior duties, so she remains outside.
I’m forced to my knees before G-Ma. Despite the shadows concealing her eyes in the candlelight, I feel the heat from her glare. Normally I’d bow my head until she permits me to raise it, but there is no time for our old ways. Nya’s signal may come any second. We can’t afford to miss it.
“You were going to defy my sea ban?” G-Ma says. It’s a question, not an accusation. She’s offering me a way out. I can avoid punishment, but none of us will be safe if I follow the easy route.
I give a single nod.
Her eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. “What madness has gotten into you, boy?”
“It’s that sky devil,” Marlok spits. “She’s luring him away so she can squeeze information from him.”
“I didn’t ask you,” G-Ma says to Marlok. “I want to hear the words from Deka, to see what manner of spell that creature weaved in his mind.”
Spell, she calls it. I’d call it logic, reason, sense. “The sky demons think we’re mindless animals,” I say. “Watching the way you’ve acted around them, I can see why.”
G-Ma flashes her teeth, but then catches herself. I feel static from the anger of those behind me.
“They’ll come back in greater numbers,” I say, “and this time they won’t stop until we’re all dead. But we are not without hope. I’m going to meet their highest authority, to show them we’re of intelligent design. Nya says—”
G-Ma’s face twists with revolt. She raises a hand to silence me. “You will not speak that devil’s name in my presence, you hear?”