by Amie Kaufman
Anders had a lot of experience sensing when he was about to be thrown out of somewhere, and he could hear it in the mayor’s voice now. He knew exactly what Rayna would do, and quickly, he tried it.
“I’m sorry,” he said in his most respectful voice. “I don’t mean to interrupt, Herro Mayor. I know you’re doing something very important. But there are lots of rumors out there. People are wondering about the wolves. We could answer their questions without them ever coming inside to you if we knew a little more.”
The mayor seemed somewhat mollified by this show of respect, and also interested in the idea of being left alone by everyone.
“We’re finished putting up with the wolves,” he replied. “It was their explosion of cold that nearly destroyed the city, and they failed to protect us when we needed them most. After a decade of promising us that they would defend us when the next great battle came, they left Holbard in ruins. The wolves have been grabbing for power for far too long, and whatever game they were playing this time, it went too far.”
Anders couldn’t help wondering if the wolves’ grab for power had gone even further than the mayor knew. There was the fake dragonsfire to think of, after all, and the Wolf Guard had been seen more and more around Holbard in recent months. The very day of Anders and Rayna’s transformations, the twins had been dodging guards all the way down to the port. The wolves had been everywhere, frustrating Holbard’s citizens, and all on the basis of a couple of dragon sightings.
Perhaps the mayor was right in part, and the wolves had been reaching for power—he could tell the mayor certainly saw this as his chance to get his power back.
Anders didn’t know what his face was doing as these realizations came to him, but the mayor clearly read his expression as meaning he was worried.
“Come here,” he said, a little bit gentler. “Everything will be all right. I’m going to look after our people.”
For a moment, Anders could see why the mayor had been voted in. When he remembered to smile, he was charming.
That didn’t change what Anders thought of how the mayor was distributing resources at the camp, though. It didn’t change the fact that he was in a comfortable tent, while there were families and children out in the cold.
“Are people really talking about this?” the mayor asked. “Are they worried about the wolves?”
“People are scared,” Anders told him, “and they aren’t seeing you. They don’t know what you’re doing to protect them.”
The mayor considered this, and then he nodded slowly. “Young man,” he said, “you’re right. This afternoon, I’m going to walk through the camp. See people. Talk to them.”
“Herro Mayor,” protested one of his aides, “we can’t possibly provide you with security.”
The mayor waved a hand at him. “If I need security in my own camp, then the problem is bigger than I thought,” he said. “It’s important. I want to see the camp. All of it.”
He was already turning back to the aides, and Hayn rested his hand on Anders’s shoulder. “We should go. Thank you for your time, Herro Mayor.”
“No,” said the mayor, “thank you for taking the time to talk to me. I need to hear from more people.”
As Anders and Hayn beat their retreat, Anders tried to make sense of what had just happened. Nothing the mayor was doing seemed best for the camp, but the man had just taken the time to explain things to Anders, to listen to him, and even to take his advice. It didn’t much change Anders’s opinion of him, but it was a reminder that, like the wolves, and like the dragons, the mayor was more complicated than Anders had assumed.
But, said a voice in his head, he only listened to you because he had absolutely no idea who you were. If he’d known you were a wolf like Ennar, or if he’d thought you were a street orphan, he’d have thrown you out in an instant.
“At least you made a little progress,” said Hayn.
“You know,” said Anders slowly, as a thought came to him, “I think we just made a lot of progress. I think I know what we have to do.”
“And what’s that?” asked Hayn.
“He listened to us,” said Anders, “because he didn’t know who we were. He listened to our ideas and our thoughts because he thought that we were like him, instead of being different. That was why I borrowed everyone’s best clothes today. I thought it might help me get in, but it did even more than that. We have to find a way to get them all to talk to each other without knowing who the other ones are.”
Hayn frowned, thoughtful. “I see what you’re saying. But how can you disguise the identities of so many people?”
“I have no idea,” Anders admitted. “But I know there’s going to be a way. All we have to do is find it. There’s an artifact for everything, Hayn.”
“True,” his uncle agreed. “There might be something in the books you salvaged from Holbard. But if you can speak to your mother again, that’s what you should do. She knew more about the artifacts all around Vallen than anyone I’ve ever met. She might even have an artifact of her own that you can find using her map.”
“She did tell me the map led to all her artifacts,” Anders said thoughtfully. “We just have to know which one to ask it for.”
“Then that’s what you should do,” Hayn said. He hesitated, and then continued. “And will you tell her . . . tell her I’m sorry, Anders. I didn’t know she and my brother were in love, and I wish they’d told me. I’d have tried to protect them. I can’t help wondering if they thought I’d object like everyone else did. Tell her I’m going to watch out for you and Rayna. That you still have a family.”
Anders swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, but he nodded, and Hayn squeezed his hand.
Soon it was time for the two of them to part ways, and Anders pulled his cloak tight around himself against the bitter wind as he walked out to their landing place with Ferdie and Sam to meet Jerro, Zil, Theo, and whoever they had found that day.
But despite the cold, there was something warm inside him, and it wasn’t just because of the message Hayn had asked him to give his mother.
He didn’t know how to pull it off yet, but he knew he had the beginnings of a plan.
Chapter Eight
ANDERS WAS STILL THINKING ABOUT HIS PLAN that evening, but as night drew around them, he had to admit he was also thinking a lot about dinner.
Jai and their assistants were cooking up a big meal to welcome the newest arrivals—there were now nearly fifty children at Cloudhaven, with beds set up all over the entrance hall. It was a little crowded, but it was still a hundred times better than the cold, wet, and muddy camp, where they had nothing to shelter under except thin blankets—and some didn’t even have those, the orphans of Holbard pushed to the very outskirts of the camp.
Here, the fire was big and warm, and they had draped a large piece of canvas across the archway that led to the landing pad, which kept most of the wind out. They’d dragged mattresses from the bedrooms, so they had somewhere to sleep, and there was enough to eat. (“And if that scary artifact warrior tries to chase me while I’m having a hot shower,” Sam had said, when they got the bathing chambers working, “then it’s just going to have to wait until I’m done.”)
It had been a long day at the camp, and Anders was glad to be home. He was still stretching out his muscles from the flight, and was on his way over to see whether he could help Jai and the other cooks when the door to Cloudhaven proper flew open with a bang.
Bryn came running out, followed by Isabina, Viktoria, Jerro, Det, and, finally, Sakarias—following the rules, they had gone in as a group so that Bryn could check a couple of the letters in the message on Drifa’s wall that she was still trying to decode.
Now, her eyes were wide, hair streaming out behind her as she ran. “Warrior!” she screamed.
And then it was through the door behind them.
The hall exploded into chaos as the children scattered to make way for the creature, and despite its huge, lumbering form, it w
as surprisingly quick as it pounded after Sakarias, the nearest of its quarry.
The others peeled off to the edges, but Sakarias couldn’t shake it. Anders caught a glimpse of his pale face as he bolted past, heading for the door that led out to the landing pad. When he burst through it, the artifact warrior rumbled straight through after him.
Most of the children ran to hide in the shadows, but the elementals, Sam, and Jerro hurtled out onto the landing pad after them, desperate to somehow help Sakarias.
He had backed up nearly to the edge now, and the warrior was advancing on him with a slow, purposeful step.
Jai hurled an empty cooking pot at it, and caught the warrior square between the shoulder blades, but the pot simply bounced off it and clanged away into the misty night.
Without thinking, Anders and the other former Ulfar students slipped into their wolf forms, growling low in their throats as they crept forward toward the warrior. There was a rush of wind behind him, and when he turned his head, he saw that Ellukka had thrown herself into dragon form. But she had the same problem they did. The warrior was so close to Sakarias now that anything they did to attack it, knock it over, or even push it over the edge, was liable to hit Sakarias as well.
Sakarias took another step backward and his heel reached the edge of the cliff, tiny pieces of rubble falling away into the silent clouds all around him.
Then it all happened at once. The warrior flung its arms out and lunged forward for Sakarias. Nimble, he twisted and ducked, and almost made it under the warrior’s arm, almost made it to safety.
But its fingers hooked into the edge of his cloak, and as it tumbled off over the edge of the cliff, Sakarias only had time for a startled scream before he was yanked with it.
Viktoria’s howl split the air.
And then Ferdie, still in human form, was running past Anders, legs pumping, accelerating toward the edge.
He threw himself off the cliff, arms spreading out as though they were wings—but they weren’t, and had no chance of slowing him—and then he vanished into the fog.
The pack ran to the edge of the cliff, staring desperately over it. But Cloudhaven still lived up to its name, and the warrior, Sakarias, and Ferdie had all completely disappeared into the mist.
They stood there, hearts hammering in their chests, and one by one, returned to human form, still standing in a line, staring at where their friends had disappeared. Viktoria was sobbing, and Anders couldn’t make himself move, or speak, or believe what he had just seen.
And then the mist parted, and a dragon became visible, winging his way back up toward Cloudhaven.
Ferdie had Sakarias clutched in his claws, and Sakarias had both arms wrapped around Ferdie’s leg. The wind buffeted the children waiting for them as Ferdie hovered, carefully depositing Sakarias on the ground, then landing himself so he could slip back into human form.
Viktoria pushed past the others, running straight for Sakarias to throw her arms around him and began instantly to berate him.
“What were you thinking?” she demanded. “How did you let it get so close to you? What were you doing near the edge? Why don’t you ever think, Sak? Why don’t you ever . . .” Her words ran out, and she buried her face against his shoulder as Sakarias carefully wrapped his arms around her.
“Are you okay?” Anders asked carefully.
Sakarias opened his mouth to reply, but Viktoria beat him to it.
“Of course he’s okay,” she replied. “Can’t you see I’m conducting a medical exam?”
Sakarias didn’t look too unhappy about it, and he kept one arm around Viktoria as he looked across at Ferdie, whose always-laughing face was grave. “Thank you, Ferdie,” he said quietly.
“We’re friends,” Ferdie said simply. “We have to stick together.”
Sakarias, who Anders knew hadn’t always felt the same way about Ferdie, simply nodded. Whatever he had thought in the past, his direct gaze said that now, Ferdie was right. They were friends. And they would stick together.
“For now,” said Ferdie, “I have my own very important medical test to conduct to see whether Sakarias really is all right.”
Sakarias’s eyes went wide, and he glanced down at himself, as though there might be some damage he hadn’t yet discovered.
“Sak,” said Ferdie seriously, “are you hungry?”
“I could eat,” Sakarias admitted as the others burst into laughter around him.
“He’ll be fine,” was Ferdie’s prognosis.
Slowly, they all began to trickle back inside.
Anders heard Ellukka speak as she fell into step with Ferdie behind him. “How did you know you were going to transform before you hit the ground?” she said. “It must have been incredibly close.”
There was a long silence, and Anders strained his ears as he waited for Ferdie’s reply.
“I didn’t,” admitted Ferdie. “But things are pretty bad, Ellukka, and we’re the only ones with a chance of changing that. We all have to be prepared to do whatever we can. We have to stick together.”
As Anders stepped inside with the others, ready to try to explain what had happened, ready to try to make a new plan, he knew that Ferdie was right.
Whatever it took, he would do it.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the warrior had changed things. It was all very well for the elementals to stay here at Cloudhaven despite the danger. With the humans and wolves hostile to them after the destruction of Holbard, this place was still safer than the town camp, and a better place to search for an answer.
But that wasn’t true for everyone at Cloudhaven.
His heart was heavy as he made his way over to where Sam and Jerro were sitting with a group of other humans, talking quietly. They all looked up as Anders arrived, taking in his expression.
“He figured it out,” Sam said to his big brother, who nodded.
“Looks like he’s going to say it now,” he said.
“Say what?” Anders asked.
Sam snorted. “You’re about to tell us that it would be safer for us if we went back to the camp. That you could give us supplies, and we could be somewhere where there aren’t giant artifact warriors trying to chase us off cliffs.”
Anders blinked. “Well, um . . .” He hadn’t expected them to anticipate his words. “You could go back to the camp. Where there really aren’t giant artifact warriors trying to chase anyone off cliffs.”
He realized he was speaking into silence—the wolves and the dragons around them were listening for the humans’ reply.
Sam and Jerro exchanged a long look. “We humans already talked it over,” said Sam. “We discussed it before tonight. We knew something like this might happen. And we decided that you were there for us when we needed you. And now we’re here for you. However we can help, we’re going to do it. We’re staying.”
“All of us,” Jerro added. And behind them, the other children murmured their agreement, a few folding their arms, as if they were daring Anders to throw them out of Cloudhaven.
But he didn’t know what to say. He remembered the way he’d heard the wolves use the word human when he first arrived at Ulfar Academy. Like a human was something less than an elemental. But the humans had a bravery and ingenuity that any elemental would be proud of. Human was a badge of honor.
“Then I guess we’re all staying,” he said, a lump in his throat. “We’ll figure this out together.”
Anders found it hard to get to sleep that night after the scare the warrior had given them, and he lay on his mattress, listening to the slow breathing of the others, gazing up at the dimly lit ceiling of the entrance hall. He and Rayna had carefully wrapped their augmenters in the rune-covered paper that would, they hoped, summon their mother.
One moment he was counting cracks in the rock, and the next moment he was in his mother’s workshop once more.
Rayna was already waiting, and she turned to him with a grin.
“I thought you were never
going to fall asleep,” she said. “She’s not here yet. I’m hoping she was just waiting for two of us.”
And as if to prove Rayna’s words true, Drifa appeared in front of them.
She didn’t look the same as she had last time, though. Now, she was semi-transparent—if Anders concentrated, he could make out the bench that was behind her.
“It’s so good to see you, my darlings,” she said. “Has it been long?”
“Not long at all,” Anders replied. “Are you all right?”
“We don’t have much time,” she said. “Tell me how I can help you.”
As quickly as he could, Anders recounted what he had realized that day at the camp with Hayn.
“He’s right,” Rayna agreed. “We need to find a way to make them listen to each other’s words, rather than thinking about who’s speaking.”
Drifa’s mouth was open. “You are right,” she breathed. “We never saw that. We were always looking for ways to stop them fighting, to make them afraid to fight or unwilling to fight. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
Anders nodded. “They need to understand each other,” he agreed, “and they need to understand the humans too—and respect them. They all need to really listen, instead of blocking their ears because it’s their enemy talking.”
Drifa smiled slowly. “So if they really can’t see who’s talking, all they can do is listen,” she murmured. “Look at you two, my children. You have dragon blood and wolf blood, and you were raised among humans. Of course you see all the sides of the story. We never did.”
“Are there artifacts that can help?” Anders asked, hope welling up inside him.
Drifa nodded. “There are two. The first is the Mirror of Hekla. It’s hundreds of years old. Felix and I restored it together—as dozens of designers and dragonsmiths must have done before us. The second is the Staff of Reya, which we made together. You’ve seen magical mirrors and staffs before—you have communicator mirrors, and I’m sure the wolves still use the Staff of Hadda for their monthly transformation trials. It was part of what inspired us to create the Staff of Reya, but I never thought of using it with the Mirror of Hekla before.”