Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels

by White, Gwynn

  Villagers protested as we tore a path across town, the guard shoving some to the side while I ducked and weaved around those who remained. My body hadn’t yet recovered from the Walk, but even so, I realized the sharp pangs I was feeling in my lungs weren’t a result of exertion; they were too sharp, too physical. My legs weren’t feeling any better, and I feared I would soon be forced out of the footrace. Then there would be no hope.

  No, I thought, that’s not an option. I urged myself onward, pouring every last ounce of strength into my strained muscles, my tearing tendons.

  The guard swerved to one side, and I caught full sight of the bread thief for the first time. It was Arwin! I recognized the hair, discolored from mine dust and fuller on one side to conceal her hideous scar.

  She stole the bread? The shock wore off quickly, though. She’d been sentenced to the walk for sneaking into the grain stores of Pointe’s only baker. Once a bread thief, always a bread thief.

  “Halt!” the guard shouted up ahead, and I saw why immediately. He had Arwin cornered, her back pressed up against the wall as she gulped in heaving breaths. She clutched the sourdough loaf to her chest, and her eyes darted side to side looking for a way out.

  I slowed to a stop a dozen paces behind the blond guard and ducked behind a hodgepodge pile of broken bricks and barrel shards—somebody’s construction refuse pile, it seemed. I peered over a barrel that was miraculously still in one piece and watched Arwin’s imminent arrest.

  “It’s over now. Put down the bread and place your hands against the wall.” The guard removed a pair of cuffs from his waistband and approached with casual arrogance. Arwin had a look of utter defeat on her face.

  I didn’t like her. Even though we’d Walked together and survived, that apparently didn’t mean much to her; she’d left me at the end of the mine with nothing but a goodbye. And on top of that, I was fearful of what the guard would do to me if I intervened.

  But I wanted that bread. I would die without it.

  The brick was in my hand before I was even consciously aware of what I was doing. It felt heavy and solid in my grip. A feral yell leapt from my throat as I ran forward, brick raised high in the air, closing the distance between me and the guard in the blink of an eye.

  He had just secured Arwin’s first wrist to the wall when he started to turn toward my cry. His eyes widened at the sight of me, but he wasn’t quick enough. I brought the brick down hard enough to hear a crack as it struck his high cheekbone. Blood appeared immediately, and the guard was limp before he hit the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Arwin demanded, and I looked up to see her wide eyes staring down at me.

  “Saving you, apparently. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “That was a…a guard of the Empire…”

  “Yeah, he is not going to be happy when he wakes up.”

  The scent of sourdough brought my attention back to the ground, where the loaf had fallen from Arwin’s grasp at the guard’s command.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Arwin growled.

  I reached down and grabbed the bread.

  “That’s mine!” She struggled against the link of tamed iron that held her securely to the wall, but it was no use. The metal wouldn’t budge so long as its master was alive; it was still following the guard’s last intention. “Put it down, Mal, and get me loose.”

  A dark, ugly thought wormed its way into my head, accompanied by a slithering feeling in my gut. “Why should I? You would’ve just let me get caught if our roles were switched. You did leave me to starve back at the mine!”

  Her eyes softened, but I could tell she was still angry. “Look, I’m sorry about that. I am. But you know what will happen to me if you leave me here. Someone will come along and finish what the baker was calling for in Pointe; they’ll burn me for this, or worse.”

  “No officer of the Empire would burn you for needing to eat,” I argued.

  “It wouldn’t have stopped Beyland.” Arwin searched me imploringly. “You can’t leave me here.”

  “I can’t pull that metal free…you know that.”

  A pause.

  “There is another way,” she pointed out softly.

  “No,” I said. “No, I can’t do that.”

  “It’s the only way.”

  “What if we—if I—what if I, er…cut your hand—?”

  Arwin shook her head so fiercely I thought she might pull something. “You aren’t getting anywhere near my hand. I need both of them to survive, you idiot. Come on, it’s me or him. You’ll be just as responsible for my death as those carrying the torch if you leave me here. You’re going to let them kill me over bread?”

  “You’re asking me to kill him over bread!” I pointed at the unconscious guard on the ground. “I won’t do it, Arwin. I can’t.”

  “Well we have to do something.”

  I took a step forward and kept my hands raised to show her I meant no harm. When Arwin gave a shallow nod, I continued and moved close to the metal ring that held her wrist to the brick wall behind her.

  Small tendrils of metal extended from the main cuff like the hooks some of the lumbermen used when pulling down trees in the Grimwood, their ends burrowed deep into the brick. The tamed iron was malleable to the will of its master—in this case, the brick-beaten guard—and it was still carrying out his last order.

  “Can you at least try prying it off?” Arwin asked.

  “It’s not going to—”

  “Just do it, Mal!”

  I wedged my fingers between the metal cuff and the skin of Arwin’s wrist, curling them as best as I could before giving a sharp tug. The edge cut into the middle segments of my fingers, but the cuff refused to budge. I tried again with the same result. In frustration, I picked up the brick again and swung it down hard against the metal cuff.

  “No!” Arwin cried at the same time the metal hummed and vibrated. The next noise to come from her was a cry of sharp, intense pain.

  All of the energy from the brick hitting the cuff had transferred through metal into the next closest thing—the fragile bones in her slender wrist.

  I pulled again at the metal, though, and this time it gave, edging an inch away from the wall.

  “You dense, stupid—”

  I ignored Arwin’s stream of curses, staring instead at the warped piece of metal. “It moved…”

  “You broke my wrist!”

  “The handcuff moved!” I exclaimed at her.

  “That’s really great. Thrilled for you.”

  “I, I don’t understand…it shouldn’t have moved for me!”

  Arwin hissed with pain as my fingers moved around beneath the cuff, pressing up against her injury. “Whatever,” she said. “Just take it off so I can go.”

  I pulled one last time on the handcuff and it made a shink noise as the metal barbs pulled away from the brick wall behind Arwin. She rubbed at her shoulder as soon as her arm was free, and I felt her tense up as I laid hands on the metal cuff again. “I have to get it off your wrist,” I told her.

  She nodded sharply, and tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes. “Just be quick. It hurts.”

  I didn’t question why the cuff was responding to my touch, or why a boy with as little muscle as I had could suddenly bend steel. I pushed those doubts out of my mind. My fingers wrapped around the metal and I tugged to either side, forcing it to part down the middle. Incredibly, the metal seemed to snap cleanly in two, as malleable as if it had just come out of the fires of a smoking forge.

  Arwin freed her hand and held the broken wrist close to her chest, her hair falling once more over her scar and right eye.

  “You’re welcome,” I muttered, dropping the guard’s broken cuff on the ground.

  She was quiet for a moment, and then: “Thank you, Mal.”

  I nodded and then retrieved the fallen loaf of sourdough bread. It had as much dirt on it now as it had the baker’s dusting of flour, but I didn’t mind; my stomach would cave in if
I didn’t give it something now. Without ceremony, I broke off an end and crammed it into my mouth, savoring the rush of flavor that came with it.

  “We’re not safe yet,” Arwin said, and she pointed to the guard on the ground, who was still out but showing some signs of stirring. He would be awake in another quarter hour, or less. “He’ll come after us.”

  “Come after you, you mean.”

  “He saw your face, too, before you hit him with the brick. I may be a hungry thief to him, but you assaulted him, a soldier of the Empire. He won’t soon forget you.”

  I looked down at the sandy-haired guard. He’d just been on patrol when I’d run into him. He didn’t know what we’d gone through with Beyland, or the Walk. It had just been his job to be patrolling those streets at the same time that Arwin and I were both separately planning on stealing that baker’s loaf of bread. And now Arwin wanted to kill him for it.

  “It’s to keep us safe,” she whispered, as if reading my thoughts.

  I shook my head. “No. I’ve got a better idea.” The broken cuff on the ground had caught my eye, and I looked to the one still secured at the guard’s belt. Wasting no time at all, I swooped down and snatched up the metal brace, and flipped it open in one hand while I grabbed the guard’s arm with the other. “Come on, help me with this.”

  Arwin went and took his other arm, and together we dragged him across the ground to the same wall where he’d pinned her. I took the remaining cuff and slapped it against his wrist, making sure it cinched tight on the other side. Then I pressed the cuff up against the wall and hoped, willed, for the same thing to happen that the guard had accomplished.

  Nothing happened.

  No sharp metal barbs piercing their way into the brick.

  “What are you doing?” Arwin asked.

  “Shh! I need to concentrate.”

  “You’re not an iron ta—”

  “It worked before! Now, shush.”

  The guard let out a light groan of pain, barely an exhale, but it was enough to send Arwin retreating a half dozen steps. “We need to get out of here.”

  “In a minute.”

  I returned my attention to the metal, envisioning what I wanted it to do, and then I placed my hands on it and closed my eyes. Come on, I urged it. In a moment of exasperation, I grabbed the piece of brick again and slammed it against the metal cuff. Depths take you, bend!

  At that last bit of insistence, the cuff responded, shooting out barbed tendrils into the surrounding brickwork. Some pierced the guard’s wrist as well, and I winced as several bloodspots welled in response. He would feel it when he woke up, and it would take a doctor working alongside an iron tamer to safely remove them.

  “How did you do that?” Arwin said, her voice now soft with awe. She was finally interested in what I was doing, but it was too late now. We had to go.

  “He’ll be up any minute,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  7

  Arwin and I sat in the shadowy recesses of an alley on the far side of town, the most remote place we could find without actually leaving Mitbas. I didn’t think we were ready for that just yet. And somehow, I was thinking in terms of ‘we.’ Arwin and I were a team, whether she liked it or not. Nobody else was looking out for us anymore.

  “You know, this was worth it,” she mumbled between bites. The sourdough loaf sat half consumed between us, and the rest of it would probably be gone within the next quarter hour. Arwin moaned appreciatively as she swallowed another mouthful. “We shouldn’t stay here for long, though.”

  I stopped chewing to glance at her. She was careful to keep her scar covered with her hair, but I could see the ruined stretch of skin all the same from this close up. I set my attention back on the bread in my hands. “Yeah. He’s probably awake by now.”

  “And his next step will be to rally up all the local soldiers and come hunting for us,” Arwin stressed. “They could already be on their way. You haven’t had to run for your life before two days ago, but I’ve been doing it my whole life, and I’m telling you that we’re in danger now. I can feel it.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, trying to calm her. “So, where do you suggest we go next?”

  “Well, if you’re going to keep doing that metal stuff, Cleighton would probably be best. They’ve got a forging guild there that’s supposed to be the best in the land.”

  I peered at her suspiciously. “I get what I’d do there…but what’s in Cleighton for you?”

  Arwin smiled wide. “Tamed iron can fetch a hefty price, to the right buyer.”

  “Anyone can get iron,” I argued.

  She wagged a finger. “There’s a world of difference between any old tamed iron and the weapons and armor that come from the forgesmiths in Cleighton. The iron tamers there are unparalleled in skill, and the black market for their weapons and armor is strong and healthy.”

  “You’ll get in the same trouble there as you did here…and next time, it won’t be over a piece of bread. They will burn you. Maybe just stab you then and there and be done with it.”

  “Gotta make a living somehow. We’ll figure it out when we get there.” She patted my knee and swung her legs off the low, broken wall we were sitting on. “Come on, we gotta go.”

  “Hang on.” I glanced at my shoulder, which was starting to genuinely ache. “There’s one more thing I have to do before we leave.”

  * * *

  “Hmm, what have we here?” The doctor I’d been directed to by the guard so many hours ago was a hunched man with wiry muscles beneath his slightly sagging skin. “The Walk, you say? Never heard of it.”

  “How can you not have heard of it?” Arwin demanded. “We came from Pointe, it’s the mine—”

  “Nobody comes from Pointe,” the doctor countered, silencing her. He looked at me again and sighed. “You can’t walk around with an open hole in your shoulder. It’s clearly an arrow wound…what did you do to get it?”

  I hissed as he probed at the wound, dipping a thick glob of something pungent into the opening. “I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Ha! Nobody ever got hurt being in the right place, did they? Nobody gets hurt doing the right thing,” he muttered, casting another harsh glance my way as he reached for a glass jar from a shelf above his desk. “Now, you know how I know you did the wrong thing? This is going to hurt.”

  “What are you—uhh, what is that?”

  The doctor had picked something wriggling out of the jar and held it aloft; it was barely an inch long, with half a dozen wriggling feet and a small, puckering mouth full of tiny teeth. “This is an inchworm.”

  “That is not an inchworm. I know what an inchworm is.”

  Another harsh laugh came from the doctor’s lips. “Fair enough. But this is an inchworm to those in the medical profession. Now hold still.”

  I tried to get off the table he had me sitting on, but he held me down with one surprisingly strong arm and called to Arwin for help. “Restrain him,” he said, and the barked order got an immediate response from her.

  “Mal,” she started, “if the doctor says it’ll make you better—”

  “No, I don’t want it!”

  But it was no use. Arwin helped hold me down as the doctor lowered the wriggling creature into my shoulder, and its little hooked feet scraped the inside of the wound as it started to burrow. After another moment, though, the pain started to fade, replaced by a strange, cool sensation that spread through the surrounding muscle and dulled my concern.

  “I feel funny…”

  “That’s the inchworm,” the doctor said. “It secretes a toxin that—”

  “A toxin?” Arwin asked, alarmed.

  “Yes, but in such minute doses that it’s basically harmless.” He turned his attention to me. “Your body will naturally start producing antitoxins within a few days, leaving you with only the benefits of the treatment.” He reached for a thick roll of white gauze, which he proceeded to wrap in generous amounts around my neck an
d shoulder and arm. “Try to keep the arm stable until the wound is completely closed. If you move it too much, you’ll tear open the patch that the inchworm is making.”

  I looked down at my shoulder, and sure enough, a patch of fresh skin, a little too light compared to the rest of my body, was forming over the wound, almost like the inchworm was spinning a web of new flesh behind it. “It looks weird.”

  Arwin grinned. “It suits you.”

  The doctor turned to her next, and the smile fell from her face. “Now let’s see about that wrist…”

  * * *

  We’d left the doctor’s house without paying. Having no money, and with the blond guard sure to come after us soon, there’d been no other choice. I would make amends to the doctor someday, though, whenever I made my way toward Mitbas next.

  A hot breeze blew across the plains as we walked north toward Cleighton, transporting warm air from the simmering super volcano visible in the distance. Berg Obehr pierced the skyline in a way none of the surrounding mountains could; red light seeped from its insides into the cloud coverage overhead, giving it an almost demonic presence looming over the green countryside. Seemingly unending fields of crops swayed gently between me and Arwin and Berg Obehr, and it would be another couple of days before we would be within sight of the town itself, which was nestled in the foothills of the enormous magma-filled mountain.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Arwin said, following my gaze.

  “In a deadly, molten sort of way, sure.”

  “Come on, if you’re going to be an iron tamer, you’ll have to get used to the idea of being near fire.” A hand raised to her face unconsciously, her fingertips grazing the skin between her eye and ear. “It’s going to be a part of your life now, probably forever.”

  I didn’t say anything, and we kept walking on in silence. The road had started off dusty, bumpy, and uneven, but it got marginally easier to navigate as time went on and we neared the core cities of the Empire. We weren’t close to them by any stretch, but pick any direction leading away from Pointe and you’ll find yourself heading toward to the capital. It was the center of everything, the heart of the Empire—all roads led to Harcour.