Dust

by J R Devoe

  I give the Ori Elder an incredulous look.

  “And after which gate crossing were you to see your home?” says Ko Tora.

  “Was the same as the rest of you: one hundred.” She rubs the black band on her forearm. “They stopped marking me a long time ago.”

  The Fori shift nervously. Terror is rife in many eyes.

  Ko Tora continues. “Ko Rance, how long have you tended trees for the Watchers?”

  “Five hundred and sixty planets I’ve seen. None of them would I call home.”

  Ko Tora gives a satisfied nod and looks to her followers. “So now you see: our only chance to ever have a home is to make one for ourselves. That means cutting this planet off from the network and overthrowing the Watchers stationed here. The only way to do that is to destroy the Capstone.” She raises her sword. “Who’s with me?”

  Shouts and spear tips rise in the breaking light. Some of the faces seem uncertain at first, but as the cheering grows so does their confidence. Reluctance turns to conviction, which scrunches their faces into anger.

  “Stop!” I shout, throwing both my hands into the air.

  They ignore me and chant on, hefting their spears high.

  “You’re all fools!” I say.

  As ever, this gets their attention.

  Nearly seven thousand pairs of eyes fall on me. Some furious, others curious. A good enough mix to sway the crowd.

  “It’s true, we outnumber the Watchers by many times,” I say. “But Jexa is a master of war. If she’s managed to divide us when we were at our strongest, she will continue to do so long after we’re stuck here, until we are all destroyed.”

  Ko Tora points an angry finger at me. “She’s afraid!”

  I clench my fists and feel my cheeks burning. “I am not afraid. I’m thinking about the future. What you do will bring irreversible consequences.”

  “It’s too late for that, dust maiden. Where was your consideration for consequences when you stopped the Watchers from killing those apes? Did you think of the consequences when you trapped Jexa’s fighters in a cave?”

  My face blazes red hot. I can see from the nodding heads around me that Ko Tora has already split our force too greatly. At least half will follow her.

  “The Capstone will be well defended,” says Ko Tora. “We’ll need everyone we can muster for the raid. If any remain here, you do so to little effect. If we all fall on that volcano, the rest of you will not stand a chance here without us.”

  A shining truth comes to light in my mind. The plan to seal off the gate here forever requires one thing that I control.

  “You’re forgetting something, Ko Tora,” I say, loud enough for all to hear. “To destroy the Capstone you need a dust maiden. I am the only of my kind committed to this cause. And I refuse to do your bidding.”

  I try hard to contain my gloating smile. Then I try to contain my curious frown when a sly grin stretches across Ko Tora’s face.

  “Will you do it for the sake of your precious sapiens?” she says. “I’ve heard about your infatuation with them. They make pretty pets, I’ll admit. But I’ll not shed a tear to burn them out of their hiding place. How long do you think they’ll last in the open when the Watchers come to pick them off?”

  My breathe catches. I clutch my chest. “You wouldn’t.”

  Ko Tora spreads her hands in resignation. “That is up to you, daughter of K’lora. I leave their fate in your hands. If you destroy the Capstone, I’ll see they live long and happy lives. They’ll flourish in these lands under my rule. But if you disobey me now, I will make sure they turn to dust and ash like everything else you’ve ever touched.”

  Fury boils in my belly, steams in my chest, and brings tears to my eyes. “You’re no better than Jexa,” I say, my voice cracking.

  Ko Tora looks off into the distance and narrows her eyes in thought, as if evaluating my claim. She nods faintly. “One thing you can’t deny about the Marshal, she knows how to get her way.” She addresses her loyal soldiers and nods back toward me. “Bring her with us.”

  My heart thunders and my legs tighten like springs, ready to launch me into flight. Ko Tora has lost it.

  Watching her followers’ hesitation nervously, I raise my fists, which inspires more hesitation. They know what these hands of mine can do.

  Their reservation loosens when my mighty hands start shaking before me. They also suspect what I know deep inside my heart—that I’d never be able to harm one of my own.

  I bend my knees and prepare to launch into the air, but someone bear hugs me from behind, pinning my wings to my back.

  “Let go of me!” I shout. The arms constrict around me and stifle my heaving chest.

  Ko Tora’s muffled voice breaks through the commotion. “Bind her hands to her sides,” she orders, “palms to skin. We can’t have her wasting that talent on foiling our plan.”

  “Stop fighting, Nya,” says one of my assailants as she forces my arms to my side, so that my left palm presses against my hip.

  “I’m sorry,” says another as she huffs to straighten my other arm to my side. “Please, just relax.”

  They act as if they care about me. They’d have me believe us still friends. Even as they coil wet vine around my torso, cinching my arms tight and my hands even tighter to my body so that the only vibration I can send is to myself. The anger of betrayal swells in me.

  I spot Kassini through the crowd, both hands gripping her axe handle. I’m tempted to summon her to my rescue, but I see in her eyes she knows what I realize. She too will end up a captive or worse. Dead.

  “Ko Zola,” says Ko Tora, “have your Ori search the surrounding area for Jexa’s tunnels.”

  “No!” I shout. Further divide what force remains at the pyramids? It’s folly. “Ko Zola, don’t do it! You need to watch the pyramid!” That’s what I want to say, but the sudden pressure around my chest chokes me off, so that when I move my mouth nothing comes out.

  They ratchet the vine coil around me tighter. I have so many colorful words to spit at them, but my heaving is restricted by my bonds, which suffocate me.

  The coil tightens around my chest.

  Anger turns to panic. I can’t breathe! Someone points this out as black spots bloom across my vision, but it’s too late. I fall into darkness.

  22

  —

  DEKA

  WHEN YOUR RACE is teetering on the edge of extinction, every birthday becomes a big deal. It’s a chance for your tribe to celebrate one more life defying the end. It’s a recognition of another year of successful defiance against a promised demise.

  This eighteenth celebration of mine will be one to remember. Not just for myself, but for all of humanity. Later generations will speak of how, on this day, I made an ally of an enemy. All while traveling to give my people the greatest gift of all: freedom. And it all came without spilling a single drop of blood. My mother’s methods will no longer be the ways of a fool. Science and progress will once again bring happiness to my kind, and humanity will once again smile in sunshine.

  But this vindication is still a way off. For now, I’ll be happy with the gifts and the pleasantries. Even Marlok doesn’t deny me my day.

  He claps me on the shoulder and sits on the log beside me. “You must think you’re pretty special, getting a fire for your birthday.”

  I smile at the warmth cast from the crackling flames on my face. The smell of burning wood stirs a sense of nostalgia in me, though it must be wired into my genes, because I know it’s been a long time since humanity had the luxury of wood to burn.

  “A gift we all seem to be enjoying,” I say, looking at nearly a dozen of my tribe’s warriors seated around the fire in the twilight.

  “Mali told me about your birthday competitions,” Marlok says. “You set the bar pretty high with those goggles. Should have saved those for a later year. How did you do better than that since then? She never told me.”

  I crack a smile and recall Mali’s last five birthdays. Mar
lok is right. I’d set the bar too high, and was forced to get more creative with gifts the following years. That meant moving away from material things. Like, for her eleventh birthday, I snuck her out on my boat under a sky full of stars, to a cove where glowing algae had invaded the entire inner harbor and the stream running inland. The bloom was so thick that the surrounding hills glowed purple. But, even now, I dare not risk ruining the mood by telling Marlok I’d defied him back then by sneaking her out on the water.

  “I think Mali kept it a secret for a reason,” I tell Marlok, and offer him a sly grin.

  He frowns at me, then looks up to the treetops.

  “You celebrate the day you were born?” asks the Ori leader. Mora, is what Nya had called her. She crawls up from behind and squeezes in to sit between Marlok and I. “Why?”

  “Because life is a gift,” I say, “to be treasured. Each breath is a miracle.”

  Marlok doesn’t look convinced, nor does the Ori.

  “Well,” says Huxley from across the fire, “you’ll have a hard time beating Mali’s gift this year.”

  It’s only now that I notice she’s the only human beyond sight of the bonfire. It hasn’t become unusual to wander off since Nya assured us we’re in good hands here, and there is indeed much to explore. But we’ve gotten into the habit of announcing our departure and direction, along with an expected return time. These are routine measures learned from childhood that haven’t changed with our surroundings.

  “Where is she?” I say.

  “It’s a secret,” Huxley says. He lowers his gaze to sharpen a stick with his knife, but this doesn’t hide the envy in his eyes.

  I stand and look around, scanning the trees for Mali’s surprise. What’s she working at?

  Marlok rises beside me, concern on his face. “Hux, where’s Mali?”

  “I told you, it’s a—”

  Marlok pounces over the fire and grabs Huxley by the shoulders. He gives him a shake and says, “I’m not playing around here! Where in the hell is my sister?”

  “Don’t tell her I told you.”

  Marlok bares his teeth and growls with impatience.

  “Fine,” Huxley says. “She wanted to give Deka a birthday feast. She spotted tracks leading that way, so—”

  “She went hunting,” I say.

  “She what?” says Mora, jumping to her feet. Not even the dirt smeared across her face can conceal the blanching of her cheeks. They’re as white as the rolling surf.

  Our Ori guardians scatter in the direction of Huxley’s indication, the group fanning wide like pellets from a shotgun blast.

  Panic rises in me as I join the pursuit. Marlok and the others grab their weapons and race out to either side of me. He is much faster and takes the lead on us humans, but slides to a stop when a shriek rises from beyond the trees ahead.

  Cold sweat slicks my skin. That’s Mali’s cry. I’ve heard it before, when she played a joke on me in the tunnels of our home. Our familiar, predictable sanctuary.

  This gets my legs pumping faster than ever before. I barely give myself enough clearance to round the trees, instead bumping into sturdy trunks in my straight on dash. They stand firm and send me stumbling. I don’t slow even the slightest.

  The Ori’s shorter legs do not hinder them in the least. They move faster than our fastest runner and reach Mali first. When I arrive at a clearing, four of them are wrestling a thrashing Mali on the ground. Mora leans over them while shouting instructions on how to immobilize her.

  “Grab her legs!” Mora says.

  Marlok and Huxley aims their crossbows at the Ori on top of Mali.

  “Let her go!” Marlok orders. His crossbow shakes in his hands. I’ve never seen him so rattled, and I fear he may accidentally loose an arrow.

  The Ori pinning Mali to the ground freeze and then straighten to give Marlok curious looks. Stepping forward, I see their captive isn’t Mali at all. It’s one of those tree-tending folk that resemble Nya in almost every feature. Fori, she’d called them.

  This Fori thrusts her hips upwards in an attempt to break free of the four Ori holding her. “Murderer!” she cries, her throat tight with sorrow and rage.

  I follow her line of sight to a beast on its side. A male deer. I’ve seen the crown of antlers in mother’s books. A crossbow bolt protrudes straight up from its still neck, and a blank stare suggests the animal is dead.

  Wheezing draws my attention to my left, to Mali.

  Marlok shoves past me and drops to his knees by her side.

  My whole body goes numb. I drift toward Mali in a daze. Lying on her back, she’s staring at the sky, her eyes wide in pain and shock, her mouth open to draw breath that won’t come. When I step around Marlok, I see a wooden stake driven up under her right ribcage.

  I kneel beside her and take her hand, but my own is so numb that I don’t feel her skin against mine.

  “M-Mali,” I say.

  Her eyes fall on me and her chest heaves higher, trying to inhale, but the surrounding air ignores her summons. It’s her body’s last attempt to save itself. She falls still and the pain in her eyes freezes to fear.

  “Go get the medicine,” Marlok tells me.

  I stare at her lifeless body in disbelief. “She’s—”

  Marlok shoves me onto my back and presses a knife to my throat. “She’s not! Now go get the medicine. Use your precious words to save her.”

  Mother’s book on anatomy and physiology never interested me much, but I’ve read enough to know the severity of this wound. As a warrior, Marlok knows this too.

  He clenches his teeth and tightens his grip, but neither act can hold back the tears in his eyes. They spatter on my cheeks and mix with my own.

  He stands and marches to Mora and her Ori. They step back defensively, rightfully wary of his emotional state.

  “Where is it?” he says, scanning the ground with both arms out wide, a knife in each hand. “Where is that little creature?”

  “We let her go,” Mora says.

  “You what?!”

  Marlok looms over Mora threateningly, and though he’s three times her height, Mora stands her ground.

  “That Fori was defending an innocent deer. Your sister had no right to take his life. If you and your kin care to join her, make a move. You’ll never make it out of this forest alive.”

  Marlok leans back and hurls a blood-curdling scream at the sky. He pulls his hair out in clumps.

  I lay on my side next to Mali and try pulling her shoulders square with mine, like we used to do when the northern drafts blew down the caverns of our sanctuary. The days of innocence we shared before she became a warrior were too few. That was when the only warmth she needed came from me and not from the blood of her enemy. But now her body is stiff, and she won’t move. So I curl into her side and try to keep her warm, in case she changes her mind and decides to come back with a second wind.

  Please, Mali, come back. It is the last birthday present I’ll ever ask for.

  23

  —

  NYA

  THEY MUST HAVE GIVEN something to sedate me, because when I wake, the battle at Jexa’s stronghold is well underway.

  My vision is blurry, but I can make out a black cone rising from grey wasteland three leagues away. I blink a few times to focus. Ringing from inside my head grows loud in my ears. Almost deafening.

  “Get her up!” comes a muffled voice. “They’re almost in!”

  “Easy!” replies a calmer voice at my side. Her pale arm waves away the source of the first voice. “If Ko Tora wanted her ready so early, she’d have let me give her the hype plant when I suggested.”

  “Look! There’s the signal! Quick, give her another dose!”

  A finger slides into my mouth and rubs cool jelly across my inner cheek.

  I’m not sure if it’s the stimulating plant medicine, or having someone’s dirty finger in my mouth that has me vaulting upright with a surge of energy and disgust. My heart thumps fast and my vision sharpens.


  “Welcome back,” says the first voice. She grabs my arm to help me up. “Come on, girl. Ko Tora needs you. Can you fly?”

  I wobble on my feet and wipe the thick crust from my eyes. Can I fly? I can hardly stand. How long was I out for?

  I blink a few times to focus on the volcano. Its dark slopes stand sharp against a cloudless blue sky, where black flecks swirl and clash like quarreling flies, with a few falling to the ground.

  “Jexa?” I say, my voice hoarse as words crawl up my dry throat. “Watchers?”

  “Our scouts saw them training in the south. It’s the same amount Sheffa told us about. Hurry, there isn’t much time.”

  As my vision sharpens, I see much of what Sheffa had said appears to be true. Squadrons of Fori fly in arrowheads in pursuit of the stronghold’s lone defenders—mostly Aeri and a few dozen Watchers—who are effectively separated by the Fori flying in formations as taught by Jaleera.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Jexa really didn’t expect we’d do something so rash as attacking her stronghold after so many of our fighters had abandoned us. Now I feel silly for having doubted this plan and for putting up such a fuss. But it’s not too late. I can dump the Capstone into the lava to buy us time. I am not trapping us on Deka’s planet. This is not where we belong.

  My wings buzz and lift my feet from the ground. Flying is easier than walking, so I get to it by speeding toward the volcano. Depending on where the Capstone is, I should be able to destroy its support and drop it down into the fiery earth. We can worry about how to retrieve it later, once we’ve defeated the Watcher army.

  The closer I and my escort of twelve fly toward Jexa’s base, the more winged bodies I see lying motionless on the ground. Many litter the volcano slope ahead. It’s a retched sight, with the occasional twitching wing revealing those who need help, so I keep my eyes locked on a glowing orange slit in the flared out base.

  We arrive at the volcano entrance unchallenged. Hot wind blows out from the crevice, where five of Ko Tora’s warriors wave me inside. Heat blasts my face and blows back my hair as I follow them through the tunnel, heat from the same source that provides the orange glow that lights our way. My skin feels like it’s about to slough from my bones and reduce me to a puddle.