Secrets in the Mist

by Morgan L. Busse

  He looked over his shoulder, waved, then brought out the wooden poles that steered the glider and took off.

  Cass watched him for a moment. It was a beautiful sight. Like a hawk catching an updraft, Bert dipped below the ship, then came gliding up and around. She was surprised there wasn’t even a hint of fear inside of her. Only anticipation.

  Cass approached the edge of the ship. She breathed in the cool air and recalled the feeling of flying from the day before, then tugged on her own cord. The glider spread out behind her. She placed on the gas mask and goggles, adjusted the poles on either side of her, then gripped them tight as she walked off the ledge.

  The ground was gone.

  Instead, her feet hovered in the air as the wind caught the glider and thrust her forward. She could barely hear the shouts of the Daedalus crew as the wind whistled over the glider. She turned slightly to the right, drifting in the air like Bert had taught her, then she tilted toward the left. A minute later, she caught an updraft and soared upward. Bert circled nearby, already making his descent.

  Cass smiled, so wide her cheeks hurt. She loved this! The feel of the air, the feel of freedom. Not even the churning Mist below could dampen her enthusiasm.

  She let out a laugh, then angled her glider to start her descent.

  Down she circled, every movement making her heart beat with excitement. A blackbird joined her, spreading its wings and soaring before it caught a thermal and headed up.

  There was a pause to her excitement as she stared down. She could now make out the tips of trees and what looked like a collection of buildings.

  Seconds later, she had entered the Mist. She could still see the sun above, like a bright circle, but everything else was bathed in shadows and gloom.

  The closer she drew to the ground, the more appeared across the surface. First buildings emerged, hundreds of them, set up along grids. Once whitewashed, now they appeared dingy, with moss and dead leaves along the rooftops. Bare trees and old lampposts stood on the street corners.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bert glide over to the right and disappear. That must be where the town square was. She tilted her glider and followed, the airstream sending her over the nearest rooftops, ten feet below her and toward a large opening in the middle of the dilapidated city.

  Bert circled down until he was near the ground, then he brought the tip of his glider up and dropped down to his feet. Cass did the same a minute later. Her feet hit the ground with a soft thud.

  Bert turned toward her and raised his goggles. “Very good,” he said in a muffled voice. “Now go ahead and stow away your glider. I figure we’ll look around and let you get a feel for everything before we head back up.”

  Cass nodded. She pulled on the left cord and felt the glider retract back into her pack before pushing her goggles up across her head. The Mist hung across the area like the thin filaments of a spider’s web. Overhead, she could barely make out the sun and the shadow that was the sky island and the Daedalus.

  The city looked a lot like Belhold. Four-story buildings the length of the square, with narrow windows, curved doorways, and decorative carvings. The square itself was paved with large red bricks where weeds poked through the cracks.

  “Feel free to go into the buildings, but you won’t find much,” Bert said. “This city has been picked clean by divers because of the ease of landing here and the lack of Turned.”

  “Why aren’t there any Turned here?”

  “The bodies decomposed a long time ago, leaving the parasitic spores to move on. There are more bodies to be found and inhabited near the mountain edges.”

  Cass looked around again. It was then she spotted pale limbs scattered amongst the weeds like white branches. No, not branches. Bones. How long had they been here? A hundred years? Or more? The Plague Wars happened almost two hundred years ago. It was startling to think there was still no cure for the deadly spores or for those who were Turned.

  Cass headed for the closest building, pondering. With all the power and wealth the House of Lords possessed, and the knowledge of the Alchemy Society, why did everything exist the way it did? Why did the Purges happen, driving humanity off the mountains and into the fatal Mist?

  All her questions fled as Cass entered the first doorway. It appeared to be an old apothecary, at least what little she knew of such medicinal shops as seen through windows.

  A wooden counter separated a third of the shop from the rest. Behind the counter stood green-painted shelves filled with rows and rows of tiny bottles, each one with a label with spidery letters. Cass squinted at the labels, but she couldn’t read, so it wouldn’t matter what the labels said anyway.

  Dust and old leaves piled along the walls and wooden floor around the shop, and beneath the two waist-high tables. Faded ivory wallpaper peeled away from the plaster, exposing thick yellow glue. Two paintings hung on the far wall, of flowers and herbs. In the corner stood a bookcase filled with leather-bound books and more jars.

  Cass approached the bookcase. Though she couldn’t read any of the writing, she recognized one of the flowers in a glass jar: chamomile. The tiny, dried flowers looked as dead as everything else in the shop.

  Still, this was amazing. It was as if everything had been frozen in time and now it just needed to be dusted and swept.

  Bert walked in a moment later.

  “Why are all these jars still here?” Cass asked.

  Bert shrugged. “The ingredients are old, and there are no buyers. The rich are more interested in collectibles, old family heirlooms, gold, silver, things like that. Jars of antique herbs don’t even sell for a sterling, certainly not enough to make collecting them worth it.”

  It made sense.

  “Go ahead and follow me. There are a few more things to explain before we head back up to the Daedalus.”

  “All right.” Cass followed Bert out of the apothecary.

  “This area has already been mapped out, so we already knew where to land, and I will show you where we will take off in order to head back up. But there will be many times we dive in a new area to explore and find treasure. As you see, we are in a city square. That is the most optimal landing area. Others are on wide rooftops, open fields, wide roads.”

  “And takeoffs?”

  “Usually we try to find a hill or a rooftop if an updraft or a thermal is nearby. For example, there is a natural thermal near here. So the first two things we do on a new dive are find a landing spot and a takeoff. Then we evaluate the area for hazards: how thick the Mist is, are there any Turned or evidence of Turned? And lastly, we find treasure. That’s what makes a dive profitable and allows us to continue to fly.”

  “So find a landing, find an exit, determine the dangers, and get the treasure.”

  “Exactly. Would you like to explore a little more or head back up to the ship?”

  Cass glanced around again, then her eyes went to the door. She wasn’t ready to leave, not yet. “I would like to see what else is down here.”

  Bert nodded. “It’s like a whole different world.”

  Cass smiled behind her mask. “Yes.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Cass slipped out of the apothecary and stared across the square. So many shops and buildings. She couldn’t imagine how many people must have lived in this city alone. Belhold was large, encompassing an entire mountaintop, but because of steep cliffs and narrow ravines, the city was broken up into different, smaller districts. Here, she could see the city in its entirety. Speaking of . . .

  She looked back to find Bert perusing the bookshelf inside the shop. “What was the name of this city?”

  “Huh?” Bert turned around. “Oh, yes. This is Salbum, once a part of the country of Benerath.”

  “Benerath?”

  “The country at war with Aeragarde during the Plague Wars.”

  Cass knew very little about the Plague Wars, other than the war caused the deadly Mist that now covered most of the land. Why would she care about a history th
at caused so much pain and misery to the people that survived it? No, her focus was on the future. Particularly her future. The only history she was interested in was the type that would help her now.

  She turned left and headed into the shop next to the apothecary. It appeared to be a hat shop, although most of the hats were gone, leaving empty shelves behind glass doors. Cass ran her fingers along the long counter, then opened one of the glass doors and peered inside. Dim light trickled through the large windows at the front of the store, barely reaching the back. A simple derby hat lay on the bottom shelf, covered in dust.

  Cass shut the door and went back outside. Next was a bakery, with an enormous oven in back and hand-drawn pictures of bread and rolls hung on the decaying walls. A dress shop with no dresses, a grocery with empty shelves, and a bookstore with half of the books missing. Bert was right, it would seem this place had been picked clean. Then again, it had been almost two hundred years since the Plague Wars, so it was no surprise there was very little left.

  As she left the bookstore, the Mist seemed to be thicker. Or was that her imagination? And where was Bert? Cass squinted as she stared out across the city square. Yes, the Mist had definitely thickened. She could barely make out the buildings on the other side. And the air seemed colder.

  “Bert?” she called out as she rubbed her arms. It was hard to shout through the mask. “Bert?” she yelled again. “Ber—”

  Her mouth snapped shut and she froze, every limb still as she spotted a shadow near the dress shop two doors down. That . . . that wasn’t Bert.

  The figure shambled along, the grey Mist weaving around its body. Then the smell hit her. Like death and rot. Ragged clothes hung off what looked like a man, and his skin was a pale yellow. There was a bald spot on the left side of his head, as if a chunk of his hair had been pulled out, leaving only a couple long brown strands behind.

  One foot dragged behind the other with a soft scrapping noise along the cobblestone. Shhhhhhap. Shhhhhap.

  Cass tried to keep her breathing quiet.

  Run! But where?

  Fight! But how?

  Still no sign of Bert. Which meant she had to take care of herself.

  With that thought, her mind came roaring to the surface, breaking through her haze of fear. The Turned was nearing the grocery store. With that limp, it probably couldn’t move fast, which gave her an advantage.

  She glanced to the left without moving her head. Across the square was an important-looking building with a wide staircase leading up to a set of double doors. Tall, narrow pillars lined a portico, and faded, tattered banners hung along the top of the roof. She would run there and see if she could get inside those doors. If nothing else, the stairs would provide another barrier.

  She glanced one more time at the Turned, then back to the government-looking building across the way.

  She ran.

  Cass dashed across the plaza, the cold Mist pressing against her exposed face and knuckles. She dragged in air through the gas mask as her boots clapped against the cobblestone. Halfway, she glanced back. The Turned had spotted her and was now making its way across the square.

  She sprinted for the stairs. Up she went until she reached the portico, then sagged against one of the pillars. Did breathing hard do anything to the mask? She forgot to ask Bert. Speaking of . . .

  She raised her head and looked around. The thick Mist made it hard to see the buildings across the way. Where was he? He said there hadn’t been any Turned in this area in years. What had changed?

  The creature was halfway across the square, his left leg trailing behind. His face had already started decomposing, leaving the skin clinging to the skull and exposing his nostrils. His eyes were brown with a blue-white haze, and the one hand he held out was more bone than skin.

  What do I do next? Cass surveyed the area around her, then moved toward the doors. The one on the right opened when she pressed down on the handle. She glanced in. A wide wooden staircase stood ten feet away from the entrance. On either side were more doors and a long, dark hallway to the left. At the top of the landing was a window that let in dim light.

  Good. More stairs.

  Cass scrambled up, holding onto the banister with one hand. At the top were hallways, to the right and to the left, each lined with doors. She looked around. She needed a weapon to use if the Turned was able to climb the stairs. Maybe there was a piece of wood or furniture.

  She darted into the first room on the left. The room was filled with desks, which had strange metal contraptions on the top. Tiny little letters were across the front of each metal box. The light from the row of windows across the room brightened the area enough for her to see. Near the corner, she found the wall decaying, with moisture stains along the wallpaper and a wooden board jutting out. Perfect.

  Cass grabbed one end of the board, careful of the exposed nails, and pulled. The board came away with a loud creak. She bent it forward until it cracked and split. A few more pulls and twists and she held the board in hand. It wasn’t much, but she could at least hit with it, and if the Turned made its way up, she could use this to shove it back down.

  The makeshift weapon brought a measure of confidence back as she headed back out to the staircase. Maybe she would be lucky and the Turned wouldn’t be able to go up the stairs.

  Cass rubbed a sweaty palm against her trousers as she waited. The Mist passed along the window behind her, sending gloom and shadows across the lobby below.

  Then she heard it, the soft scrapping of a boot against the pavement.

  She gripped the board with both hands. Where was Bert? What if her plan didn’t work? Should she just run? But if Bert was around, she didn’t want to go deeper into the building.

  A dark figure filled the doorway below. Cass held the board in front of her as a chill swept down her back.

  It entered the foyer. The Turned paused inside and lifted its head as if it was sniffing the air. Could they smell? Just what exactly could the spores do with a human husk?

  The Turned headed for the stairs.

  Cass tightened her grip on the board. She would go for the head—

  There was a loud pop, followed by a burst of flame. Within seconds, the Turned burned in a hot blaze of red and orange, then fell to the floor in a smoldering, smoking heap.

  What the . . . Bert?

  As if summoned, Bert poked his head in. “Cass?”

  Cass didn’t know whether to greet him in relief or chuck the board at him. “Where were you?” she exploded, her hands shaking, the board gripped between frozen fingers.

  “I found a piece of furniture the captain might be interested in, so I was figuring out how to retrieve it.”

  A piece of furniture? She continued to shake as she placed her other hand on the banister and slowly made her way down the stairs. The fingers on the dead body below twitched, then went rigid. The air smelled like burnt hair and meat, and Cass gagged as she stepped around the Turned and joined Bert. She couldn’t decide whether to yell at him again or just get out of there. Her desire to leave won out. She marched for the door. Bert was close behind.

  “Look, Cass, I’m sorry. There shouldn’t have been a Turned in the area. There was no evidence of recent movement, and like I said, there hasn’t been a sighting here in years.” The two of them made their way down the outside steps. “Good thinking about the stairs, by the way. It slowed the Turned down, and I was able to figure out where you were.”

  Cass wanted to yell at him again, but she clamped her mouth shut. But the feelings from the last five minutes—she never wanted to feel those again.

  “Bert, I want to learn how to shoot that gun you used on the Turned.”

  Bert nodded as they made their way across the plaza toward a narrow street between the bookstore and its neighbor.

  “I agree. That was next on my list, but this incident has made it even more of a priority. Maybe I should have taught you before you went on your first dive, but like I said”—he shook his head—“I
thought we would be safe here.”

  “Maybe we’re not safe anywhere,” Cass said. Safe. It seemed a foreign word and feeling. Was anywhere truly safe?

  He glanced at her. “I understand you grew up on the streets of Belhold. I was a pickpocket in the island city of Decadenn. I’ve found the Daedalus to be the safest place both in the skies and on land. Maybe you will, too.”

  Cass looked up. The Daedalus was a dark blot in a misty, dark sky. So far, she had found refuge on the diving ship. But was it safe? And could it be . . . home?

  Only time would tell.

  Outside the town was a short hill with a handful of naked trees along its slope. Cass followed Bert up to the top. The Turned had shaken her, filling with her the need to get away from this place. At the top of the hill, Bert brought out a small cone-shaped fabric kite and held it up. The wind moved the cone up and over his shoulder. “Excellent. There is a good updraft today. That, combined with the thermal near the bottom of the hill, will help us get the lift we need to ascend back up to the Daedalus. Are you ready?”

  Cass scanned the area. The hill was fairly open, as long as she stayed far away from the trees. Up above, she could barely see the Daedalus through the Mist. Could she really get enough lift to ascend back up through the Mist and to the ship? What happened when that wasn’t possible?

  Her recent experience with the Turned and her first time in the Mist made her realize just how dangerous the life of a diver could be. So many things could go wrong. Was this what she really wanted to be doing?

  “I’ll have you go first,” Bert said, breaking through her thoughts.

  “Yes, of course,” Cass said as she pulled at the cord on the side of her pack. Like before, wings made of thin wooden poles and canvas spread out behind her. The very action brought her a sense of calmness. She was like a bird, spreading her wings.

  “When you’re ready, go ahead and start your run down the hill. Remember to let the wind and air catch you. Don’t fight it, let it take you. Near the bottom of the hill, you’ll feel the thermal. Once you’re in the air, circle around it to gain altitude. Got it?”