Dust

by J R Devoe

  Jexa joins me on the upper terrace and walks a circle around me, sniffing me as she does so. “You reek of fear, girl. And… something else.”

  She leans close and takes a whiff of my hair. My skin feels as if it’s lifting from my bones.

  “Smoke and burnt skin,” she concludes. Her voice is softer than I’d imagined. Almost pleasant. But there is no telling what atrocities that black tongue of hers has ordered. Perhaps the burning of my Hive will serve to save many others from facing her terror.

  “You made good timing for your trial,” I say, and cringe at the quiver in my voice.

  Jexa gives a mocking bow. “The masters speak and the servant obeys.”

  “You crossed the line,” I say, my anger flaring. “The Councilry will make you pay for your crimes.”

  She raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. I’d invite you to come watch, but I know you have more pressing affairs to see to.”

  Does she know who I am? That I am the spawn of K’lora and the one who led her Watchers into a trap? Or is she referring to my work in serving? The smile on her face is hard to interpret. As is the amusement in her yellow, reptilian eyes with their black slits.

  She continues on into the courtyard, to her tribunal. Part of me wants to take her up on her offer to attend, but I cannot waste time. Who knows how long such a proceeding will take.

  When she’s disappeared inside, I bound down the ramp, race across the grass, and then leap into the air to take flight.

  Jexa’s ill fate offers me little comfort. Should the Councilry strip her of her command, someone else will take her place. Perhaps someone worse, a Watcher keen to make an even more malicious name for herself.

  At least justice will be served for my Hive. That will provide a nice distraction for Deka’s voyage to the pyramids.

  12

  —

  DEKA

  THE WAILING of young children rattles my nerves. So loud.

  I scan the grey sky, wary. How far do these cries travel over the water? The dunes? Do our enemy scouts take note, or do we have time? How far can I possibly expect to make it in the open? This is a fool’s endeavor. I am leading my species into—

  A hand smacks my face. My own, coming to rescue me from my self-destructive thoughts. We’ve come past the point of doubt. There is no looking back from here; only forward. Besides, this is no regular day here.

  Standing on the beach, with hundreds from my colony spilling out from the crevice to witness my departure, the falling rain soaks everyone from head to toe. This may be what upsets many of the children. Or it may be the wind. Or the wide-open space. Many have never been above ground, and are not prepared for the occasion. A few retreat back to the safety of our caves.

  Though the downpour from earlier has eased to a gentle shower, there’s no sign of it stopping anytime soon. It’s grey sky for as far east as I can see. This gift of Nya’s, I’m guessing, is twofold. Not only has it breathed life back into our sanctuary, but I suspect rain acts as a deterrent for the kind who hunt us. It will keep Jexa off my back until I reach Nya in the forest. It must.

  Marlok escorts me to the water line, where my boat waits. He picks up one of the oars from inside and offers it to me.

  “We wish you fair winds on your voyage, Deka.” It’s all ceremony. This is his way to secure support should I succeed, without having to do any real work.

  Mali breaks through the crowd and dashes across the beach to join us. She carries a canvas pack with an antique shotgun strapped across the top, which she tosses into my vessel.

  “A gift,” she says. “For your coming birthday.”

  My whole body tenses at the lightness in her voice. She’d almost robbed us of this chance at salvation, and now she acts like nothing happened. Some may even praise the generosity of her offering. But this may be the last time we ever see each other, so I offer her a slight nod of gratitude.

  Marlok takes her arm to usher her back, but she resists.

  “He is my oldest friend,” Mali tells him. Her lips tighten and tears glaze her eyes. “I may never see him again, so at least allow me to see him out.”

  Marlok keeps a firm grip on her arm, sizing me up as if I’ve planned something deceitful. But he must see the anger I still hold for her betrayal, so he releases her.

  I grab the bowsprit, putting the boat’s nose into a headlock. Mali takes up the rear and helps me carry our colony’s vessel of salvation into the sea.

  My first few steps into the water are shocking. This fresh rainfall comes from cooler skies, and passes on its chill to this sea. By the time I’m up to my knees, my teeth are chattering.

  My training kicks in. I jump into my boat and use the momentum to send me into a glide. An incredible rush accompanies these first few inches of my monumental journey. The fate of everyone behind me relies on everything I do in the face of the challenges ahead.

  Mali’s help with launching me into the sea wasn’t unusual. She’d often helped me during my fishing days. This was before she’d been assigned to the warrior cadre, when she had nothing better to do. That’s what made this launch feel so smooth. Except for one thing.

  Normally when I jump aboard, the bow dips forward under my weight. That didn’t happen this time. This phenomenon warrants a check over my shoulder to confirm my fear.

  Mali sinks back at the stern. She gives me a nervous smile and scrambles to raise the mainsail.

  “You think this’ll make up for what you did?” I say.

  “I’d say it’s a good start,” she replies with a grunt as she hauls on the main halyard. I must not look convinced, because she adds, “Don’t worry, Deka. By the end of this voyage, I’ll have made up for it a hundred times over.”

  “Mali!” shouts Marlok. He’s already waist deep in water.

  The irritation in his voice suggests he’s more disappointed at his own benevolence than her disobedience. He doesn’t think she’ll make it far. He shouts orders for the war party to fetch a few fishing vessels and pursue.

  I join Mali in raising the sail and, by the time it reaches the masthead, we have three dozen warriors sliding five boats into the sea behind us.

  I trim the sail so that the triangular canvas bulges full of wind and drags us at a nice cruising pace. All we have to do is outlast them. The wind isn’t much, but it’s enough to propel us forward with minimal effort on my part.

  But still…

  “Set the oars into the outriggers,” I tell Mali. We may need more than wind to make our escape.

  She quickly obeys, fumbling to set the polymer paddles into their grooves. She’s no skilled mariner, and, despite her betrayal, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved to have some company on this adventure. Whether we succeed or fail, they’ll be telling stories about this moment until humanity’s last breath.

  13

  —

  NYA

  MIST SPRAYS me at the forest edge, limiting my line of vision to a short stretch up the barren coast. Somewhere out there, Deka is piloting a watercraft to meet me. And I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees this forest. Have his eyes ever spied such splendor? Having seen his current living conditions, I’m guessing not.

  I shift my weight on the tree branch. I’ve been sitting in this spot for three days already. How much longer must I wait? The first day had offered a much needed rest, but this has long since gotten old. I hate just sitting around doing nothing. But our reunion must be near. He could emerge from that mist at any moment, so I dare not leave for even a blink.

  Only, those clouds to the north have been growing darker. The sky there is almost black as night. That’s the Aeri trying to impress the Magister. Will the storm be too much for Deka? Suddenly I feel helpless just sitting here. And guilty. His arrival here will be only the beginning.

  Pity rises in me for my brave sapien. This journey must be such an ordeal for him, and when he reaches the forest he may think the hardship to be over. He may ex
pect to rest. But we don’t have time for that. To avoid detection from the Fori, we’ll need to avoid areas of the forest still under development. That means taking wide detours.

  A chill blows through me. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and I’m on my feet just as fast. I know this feeling too well, so when I whirl around in the tree canopy, it’s with both fists raised and ready to fight.

  Jaleera is perched on a branch overlooking me. Her scarlet hair appears more auburn in the absence of sunlight.

  “You look tense,” she says, almost too lightly. She and Jexa must have the most pleasant conversations together.

  I keep my hands raised in defence mode. Does she know the full extent of what I’ve been up to? My legs are wound tight like springs, ready to leap into the air in escape. It takes everything for me to avoid stealing a glance back at the sea. If she sees Deka arriving, I’ll have to attack her before she can make a move.

  Jaleera holds out her hands and shows me her palms. “I come unarmed.”

  I leap across branches in a circle around her to confirm her claim. Then I scan the sky all around to ensure she has come alone, but it’s too misty to tell.

  “What do you want?” I say.

  “I bring you ill tidings,” she says.

  “I know about my Hive.”

  “Not that,” Jaleera says. She tucks her hands under her armpits, lowers her head, and shifts uneasily. “Jexa has done much worse since then.”

  My hands squeeze into fists at the sound of my grinding teeth. How could Jexa do worse than killing innocent Servants? Before I can press her, Jaleera acknowledges my anger and speaks.

  “Jexa has stolen the Capstone.”

  A flash of heat warms my body despite the storm’s chill. “Impossible,” I say. “The Council—”

  “Is dead,” Jaleera says, her voice tight.

  I laugh at Jaleera’s audacity. Only a fool would buy this news. I saw the Consul only a few days ago, and Jexa…she…I…she was there to…

  I grab a branch to steady myself as I nearly faint. Oh, Darkness! I was the second last person to see the Councilry host alive! Our lifeline on this planet has been cut!

  This realization drives me to my knees. This changes everything. Without the council’s protection and the key to this planet in Jexa’s control, we are completely at her mercy.

  A tsunami of grief rises over my mental horizon, but I have the luxury of shock keeping me calm for the time being. I use this numb state to press Jaleera before I’m too overwhelmed to function. “Why?”

  Jaleera sits beside me and looks to the clouds darkening above. The storm is spreading to encompass us.

  “Jexa has stared into darkness for too long,” says Jaleera. “The shadows that shroud the spark within her blind her from seeing even her own light. Any good that remains has become her enemy—a parasite her body must rid itself of. But she cannot oust it from within, so she projects her anger outward. She wants to drain the Universe of all that is light and good. Many sparks who betrayed her made it safely to the Galaxy of Gems. She will not rest until they all suffer in darkness.”

  I laugh in disbelief. “You tell me tales. Even if she managed to round up all the loose sparks, she’d stand no chance at dimming the Galaxy of Gems’ brightness.”

  Jaleera’s face remains hard as granite. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that is sorrow in her eyes.

  “Our force on Gaia is a splinter of a much greater army,” she explains. “To keep our strength in check, the Magister allows only a small number of us on each planet. But now that Jexa controls the gate that connects all life-bearing worlds, she can call upon every Watcher to rally on one planet. It’s been foretold, a long time ago. They called it the Black Tide.”

  My whole body trembles at the energy behind those two words. I’ve heard that name before, even if I don’t recall when.

  “All those good sparks living in the Gem Galaxy,” Jaleera says, “they got there by their good nature. Even if they outnumbered Jexa’s force ten billion-to-one, they’d cower before her cruelty. And as for any loose sparks, they’ll be sucked into the vacuum caused by the imbalance created by Jexa’s work. Because, without the parity between dark and light, her darkness will collapse in on itself and leave nothing behind, not even time itself. By sending all that light into the Dark, she will end the Universe.”

  I jump to my feet and loom over Jaleera, who remains seated with her palms on her thighs. “You’re lying,” I say. My elbows lock stiff and my fists squeeze to numbness.

  “I wish that were so,” Jaleera says. And for the first time in all the lives I’ve known her, she lowers her gaze to the ground in defeat.

  I sink to my knees and join her.

  “Was this because of me?” I say, knowing I may regret asking this question.

  Jaleera chews her lip. All the answer I need. “Jexa has been planning this for ages,” she says. “You simply gave her the opening she needed to follow through. The defensive energy around the Councilry’s temple kept even the Marshal of Watchers out. No one on this planet could enter without invitation, or—”

  “A summons to trial,” I say, confirming that this is my fault.

  Jaleera gives me a grave nod.

  My belly clenches. Though, this can’t be. “If that’s so, then how did I get in?”

  “The Priestess Darxa must have sensed your approach,” Jaleera says. “No doubt she saw it as an opportunity to set you straight. Rather than send a Watcher to end your life, she did you both a service by sparing one of her rare dust maidens.”

  “And in return I brought her death.” My belly roils like the swells of an ocean storm. “Why are you telling me all of this?” I ask. Jaleera should be clapping me in irons and taking me to her master.

  “Jexa crossed the line this time.”

  “But murdering a Ko Elder was fine?” I say, feeling my cheeks burn red hot.

  “This is on a different scale, Nya. There is far more at stake.”

  All this news swirls in my head, making me dizzy. I lay back on my branch, cover my eyes, and hope to wake from this nightmare.

  Jaleera pries my hand away. Her face hovers over mine. “This is one duty you cannot hide from.”

  I sit up so fast I nearly smash my face into Jaleera’s. “Duty?! What duty? What can I possibly do against Jexa and you Watchers?”

  Jaleera lifts her chin toward the east, to the forest that grows out across the great sand sea.

  “Word of your Hive’s destruction has spread,” she says. “Many Fori are rallying to fight. I’ve spied their ranks, overheard their plans. They’ve seen Jexa’s slaves wither under the Capstone’s weight. That she is stuck on the desert sand. They believe Jexa doesn’t think them a threat. That they have the element of surprise. But ears loyal to Jexa have heard much of the same, and she does see a threat growing among the forest folk.

  “Plus, she requires more slaves. The Capstone is heavy and will take a mighty effort to reach the pyramids. By luring the rebels into a trap, she’ll stomp out the first sparks of unrest while rounding up enough to seat the Capstone atop the Great Pyramid. Because getting it there will be the easy part. The steps up the pyramid face are steep and the levels many. She will need every able body she can capture. Those strong enough to think they can defeat her will serve her well in this task.”

  I stand. “I have to warn them.”

  I bend my knees to launch into the air, but Jaleera grabs my wrist to anchor me. “A simple warning will not do.”

  I watch her expectantly, demanding elaboration.

  Jaleera stands and holds a palm to each of my cheeks. “Nya the Evening Star - that’s what your mother called you at your birth. Your arrival was a time of immense joy and pain for her. Too late in her life you came, for the sparks of rebellion were already drifting over the deadfall. The flames of war were inevitable.”

  Jaleera’s lips twist in discontent. “But her fight did not die with her. No. You must finish what your moth
er started. Your kin gathering in the forest need the blood of K’lora to lead them once more. Only, right now they are too few. You must gather more before you face Jexa in battle.”

  I step back, shaking my head in disbelief, and nearly fall from my branch. Jaleera has either lost her mind or is pushing me toward a trap, trying to trick me into slipping up for Jexa to send me into the Dark.

  Yet…if what she says of Jexa is true, then the Watcher Marshal is beyond the days of requiring reason for her actions.

  “My people still endure the consequences of my mother’s foolishness,” I say. “I’ll not bring more suffering upon them. We’ve learned our lesson: Jexa cannot be defeated. If my mother could speak with us now, she’d tell us the same thing.”

  Jaleera sighs and hangs her head. “There is much you don’t know about the fight between your mother and Jexa.”

  “I know who won and who lost. That’s enough for me.”

  “Your mother didn’t lose, Nya. At least, not in the way that you think.”

  I stare Jaleera down. What game is she playing?

  A hint of shame softens Jaleera’s eyes. She can’t even look at me.

  “In the final minutes of the war,” she says, “your mother faced Jexa in single combat.” Jaleera closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, as if picturing the scene on the back of her eyelids.

  “Everyone thought K’lora would turn Jexa’s weapon to dust and finish her off, but we quickly saw that wasn’t necessary. It turns out Jexa was no match for your mother’s skill. K’lora disarmed her with ease, and when she knocked Jexa onto her back and held a spear tip to her throat, some Light Ones even fled, because we’d just realized we were sorely outnumbered, and suddenly numbers mattered more than fear.”

  “Then my mother fell for some form of trickery…Jexa outwitted her…or…”

  Jaleera opens her eyes to lock me in a stare. Much to my surprise, tears glisten her eyes. Until now, I thought Watchers lacked the biological means to feel sorrow, let alone express it. “Nya, before your mother could deliver the fatal blow, I . . . I shoved my sword between her shoulder blades.”