Divided Fire

by Jennifer San Filippo

  They reached the top and paused, careful to step between the spikes at the top as they crested over the wall. Factory buildings sprawled in all directions. Oil sconces sent scattered, ghostly light at random angles, but Kesia was sure that no one was in the warehouses.

  As soon as the ground was close enough, Kesia dropped, followed by Zuriel, holding the collar. He was breathing hard, but he signed, All right.

  They dashed between the nearest buildings, Kesia leading the way. Then they huddled against a wall as faint footsteps approached around the corner. They hid in the shadows while a guard ambled past, rifle in hand. Kesia sucked in a breath, ready to Sing, but he didn’t even glance in their direction.

  Kesia looked at Zuriel. He stared at her, looking nervous. She had not been expecting a patrol—she had never seen men patrolling when Katzil escorted her to the airship early in the morning. The plan had been for Kesia to Sing a building on fire in the hopes of drawing out Nadav and following him to the Water Singer barracks. Then Zuriel would collar him and free the Singers.

  But the presence of a patrol meant they couldn’t spare the time it would take to light one of these buildings on fire; they would be overheard and caught. And if there was no fire, then there would be no Nadav, which meant they would have to find the male Singer barracks on their own.

  And with the possibility of running into Nadav still hanging over them . . . Panic mounted in Kesia’s chest. It wouldn’t be difficult to climb back over the wall. They could still turn back.

  Zuriel signed, We can start with the female Singers barracks. One of them might know where the Water Singers are kept.

  Kesia bit her lip. They had hardly begun, and already it was obvious that they were not prepared to do this. But she knew Zuriel would never turn back now, and they were still the Singers’ best and only hope.

  She nodded and led the way toward the factory building where the Singers worked, pausing to check for patrols. They spotted two more guards with rifles before they reached the right building.

  Kesia tried the handle and was surprised to find it unlocked. It creaked heavily as she pushed it open, but they slipped in and pushed the door closed behind them.

  The refinery was eerily quiet now, the metallic pathways crisscrossing above them like massive spider legs. The large furnace was a mass of black in the dim light from the windows.

  Zuriel nudged her, and she led him to the metal stairs, forcing herself to go slowly. It would be very easy to get lost with the building so dark.

  She came to the hall where the female Singers were housed and crept forward. It was pitch black away from the windows, so she Sang a small flame just above her shoulder. A large metallic door appeared out of the shadows.

  Zuriel Sang, and the door clicked loudly and swung open.

  She stepped through the doorway and changed her Song to light the room. Despite the late hour, the female Singers rose slowly from their mats, likely believing they were to begin work now. Kesia clapped loudly.

  We’re leaving tonight, she signed. We’re escaping.

  They gaped at her.

  Zuriel launched into another Song. Several of them jerked back, terrified, but they all stared in awe as, one by one, their collars clicked and fell away from their necks.

  Kesia clapped again. Get up! We’re escaping tonight! We must go!

  They pushed themselves to their feet. In the ghostly light of her fire, they all looked hollow and gaunt, their cheeks sunken, their shoulders bony. Was that how Kesia had looked?

  One woman signed, They told us you were dead.

  Kesia shook her head. I escaped. I’ve come back to help you. She looked around, realizing someone was missing. Where is Ayla? she signed. The other Fire Singer?

  An older woman with frizzy hair signed, We don’t know. We think she is working on the project you used to do. They talk of deadlines and inspections. The Fire Singer is taken sometimes at night now and brought back before morning.

  Kesia’s breath caught: Ayla was working on the airship. She ached at the thought of leaving Ayla behind, but there was no time for detours.

  Zuriel looked at her, questioning.

  She couldn’t save everyone. This would have to be enough.

  We need to find the men, Kesia signed. I don’t know where they are taken.

  A blond girl waved for attention. Downstairs, I think. Down the far hallway.

  A few other women nodded in agreement. Kesia felt a small flutter of relief. That was one problem solved. She motioned for the women to follow.

  They thudded down the metal stairs, but Kesia didn’t slow. With a group this size, there would be little chance of stealth. They would just have to hope they could get to the wall and Zuriel could Sing a hole before anyone noticed them.

  Kesia paused at the bottom of the stairs, and the blonde girl pointed to the left, farther into the building. Kesia motioned for her to lead the way, keeping her fire low and away from the women.

  Then she slammed into the blonde girl, who had halted at the hallway. Kesia looked around her. Before them, lantern held between them, stood two men.

  One was a Water Singer, hunched and gaunt, a dark beard spilling around his collar. Kesia recognized him as the Singer who once gave her water after she collapsed.

  The other man was the Earth Singer, Nadav.

  He glanced up, the lantern casting dramatic shadows over his features. His eyebrows sharpened in surprise.

  The women around Kesia froze. For a long moment, no one did anything.

  Slowly, with lantern still in hand, Nadav signed, Return to your barracks.

  Kesia looked at the women. They looked horror-stricken, some of them quivering. A couple retreated back toward the stairs as if to obey.

  Kesia caught Zuriel’s gaze. He stood behind a taller woman, a hand on his bag with the collar still in it.

  She nodded and launched into Song.

  A wall of fire exploded between them and Nadav like a sudden sun, briefly blinding her. The women flinched back, but Kesia moved the fire closer to Nadav, blocking him and the Water Singer in the corridor. The Water Singer next to him flinched away, eyes wide.

  Kesia watched Nadav’s gaze find her, just as Zuriel threw the collar through the flames and Sang. His Song caught the collar and it continued forward, opening like a set of jaws and snapping around Nadav’s neck.

  Nadav staggered back, his hands pulling against the collar. Kesia let the wall of fire die, feeling winded, but Zuriel immediately switched Songs: he unlocked the Water Singer’s collar, then opened the heavy metal door behind the men and ran inside.

  Kesia stared at Nadav, a Song on her lips ready to set him alight, but he just stood there, still clutching at the collar. She realized that he probably had no idea what it was like to wear one. He noticed her and paused in his struggling.

  Don’t move, she signed.

  He signed, Are you going to kill me?

  She froze, uncertain. Should she kill him now, like this? It would not be self-defense. This would be murder.

  Could she do it?

  She thought of the couple whose house she had burned down. Yes, she could. She heard the Song she would need as its melody twisted and coiled in her mind.

  She shivered.

  Zuriel emerged from the male Singers’ barracks with the Water Singers in tow, all of them collarless and wide-eyed as they saw Nadav. Kesia counted nine of them.

  Zuriel’s Song latched onto Nadav’s collar and dragged him toward the barracks. Nadav struggled, his feet sliding along the floor, unable to find purchase. Zuriel tossed him in the room and closed the door, locking it with a final note.

  Kesia looked at the group. Some of the Air Singers who had scattered came back, still looking frightened.

  Kesia picked up Nadav’s lantern and handed it to Zuriel. She summoned her own flame and signed, Time to go! We’re going to make a hole in the compound wall and escape.

  The Singers just stared. Kesia beckoned for Zuriel to come, and th
e two headed toward the entrance at a jog. Still looking stunned, the Singers followed.

  The doors slammed shut in front of them.

  Kesia whirled at the sound of Earth Song. Nadav marched toward them, his neck unencumbered, his Voice loud and echoing, his arms laden with collars.

  He tossed up one and sent it flying at Zuriel. It clicked around the boy’s neck.

  Kesia lunged for Zuriel, but the collar was locked tight. Zuriel clawed at it, eyes wide with panic.

  Nadav sent another collar at a younger woman Singer and locked it around her neck. Everyone scattered, but Nadav was too fast, and Singers were collared quickly.

  Kesia sucked in a breath to light his clothes on fire.

  His eyes darted to her, and an open collar soared toward her. She tried to duck, but he redirected it at the last moment, and it slammed into her neck, cold and biting.

  She staggered and fell to her knees. The collar was stiff and unyielding just as she remembered, but it felt so much worse. She crawled forward and found a table to lean against, sucking in air. In. Out. In. Out—a rising panic was threatening to choke her.

  A Water Singer’s voice jumped to falsetto as ice began to crystallize around Nadav’s mouth, trying to stop his Song. Before he could finish, Nadav pulled a knife from his belt and sent it flying.

  The Water Singer jerked as it hit his chest, his Song cut off. Nadav pulled the knife back to himself and caught it as the Water Singer slumped to the ground.

  Nadav flung the knife at a woman running for the stairs. The knife sliced at her leg, tripping her and sending her sprawling before it plunged into her back.

  An Air Song sent a gust of wind at Nadav, forcing him to stagger back a few paces, but he didn’t stop Singing. Another collar floated into the room. His Song had managed to grab it from the barracks without his even being able to see it.

  Kesia clutched the table edge, shaking. He was too strong, too skilled. He would catch as many Singers as he could and kill the rest. She had done nothing for anyone. She was enslaved again. She had gotten these Singers killed. She had brought Zuriel here to die.

  She spotted Zuriel on the other side of the room, looking around. He picked up something long and metallic—a set of tongs—and barreled toward Nadav.

  Nadav turned just in time to step away from Zuriel’s attack, which was stiff and not fast enough. Nadav shoved Zuriel to the ground and then deftly snatched the tongs from his grip.

  Kesia pushed herself upright, feeling too slow, her vision fuzzy and unstable. Zuriel needed help. Someone needed to help him. She gritted her teeth. She didn’t think she could save him, but if she didn’t try, who was she?

  Kesia reached out blindly across the table until her hand found something solid and cylindrical. A handle to a tool, maybe. She picked it up, feeling the heft of it, and ran straight at Nadav.

  She expected him to turn around, but he was too focused on His Song. The set of tongs rose and pointed at Zuriel.

  She swung her weapon at Nadav.

  It was a mallet, the handle made of a compressed wood, but the head was large and metallic and heavy. She felt it connect with Nadav’s skull and crack something.

  He staggered a few paces and fell forward. She swung the mallet again. And again.

  She didn’t know how many blows she landed before a hand grabbed her arm. She whirled and raised the mallet, but another hand caught it before she could swing. It was another Water Singer, the man with the gnarled beard who had helped her that time she collapsed.

  He held her arm, staring at her with a mixed expression.

  Her whole body was tense; it took her a long moment to release the mallet. It thudded to the floor.

  He released her. You did it, he signed. He is dead.

  She looked around. Besides Nadav, she counted five unmoving bodies, all Singers. Five people she couldn’t save. Five people who died because she came here.

  The Water Singer stepped past her and knelt over Nadav’s body. He rummaged through the Earth Singer’s pockets and produced a small, metal object. It was a key, shaped with a small disk attached to the end.

  This is how he got out of his collar, he signed. As though to demonstrate, he beckoned Zuriel and inserted the key into his collar. The collar snapped and fell off.

  Zuriel nodded, shivering as he inched away from Nadav’s body. Kesia found herself unable to look at the mess she had made. A few notes from Zuriel unlatched the collar around her own neck. She caught it and inhaled a shaky breath.

  Slowly, in the dim light of a single lantern, the other Singers stepped forward. The Water Singer undid their collars. A few signed their thanks. When he was done, he turned back to Kesia.

  You told us you were going to get us out, he signed.

  Kesia nodded, struggling to regain a sense of urgency. Nadav was dead; what else were they running from? Zuriel will Sing a hole in the wall, she signed.

  Zuriel staggered toward the exit and Sang the door open.

  Kesia forced herself to the front of the group and led them toward the nearest side of the surrounding wall, the eastern edge of the compound. Zuriel Sang again, and a small fissure appeared in the wall and slowly widened, chunks of brick falling out of place.

  She glanced back at the rest of the compound. The buildings that had once held so much terror now seemed almost ordinary to her. Nadav was gone.

  She remembered Ayla. Now Kesia could save her.

  Zuriel’s Song ended.

  She clapped for everyone’s attention.

  She half-expected them to scurry through the hole anyway, but they all stopped and looked at her.

  Please, Kesia signed. There is one more Singer. I know where she is, but I need help freeing her.

  The Singers paused, glancing at each other.

  Where is she? asked an older woman.

  She is down the other side of this hill. Kesia pointed south. They have been building a flying ship there, and they need a Fire Singer to power it. If we take her and destroy the building, we can keep Amos Steel from taking other Singers as slaves. Or at least we might slow them down.

  A pause. Kesia knew this was much to ask of them. You do not have to, she signed. She glanced at Zuriel, who still looked pale and shaken. She wasn’t sure how she would undo locks without him, but she couldn’t bear asking him to risk himself further. She patted his shoulder. You can go with them. It’s all right.

  Zuriel glanced at her, his brow pinched with fear. But he shook his head. I won’t leave you.

  She smiled at him.

  The burly Water Singer signed, I will go with you.

  The blonde girl stepped forward. I will too.

  Kesia nodded. Thank you.

  What about the rest of us? a lanky, older man signed. What do we do?

  Kesia nearly shrugged and signed, Whatever you like, but she saw all eyes turn to her with fear. She had no idea how long these people had been trapped here. She realized they were looking for someone to tell them what to do.

  Take a boat from the harbor, Kesia said. Sail back to Kaleo. Find your families. You’re free.

  The Singers glanced at each other again, like they didn’t quite believe it.

  An older woman signed to Kesia, What is your name?

  Kesia, she replied.

  We will always remember you, Kesia, she signed. Thank you.

  Almost in unison, the Singers echoed their thanks, bowing their heads or even smiling before climbing through the hole.

  Of the twenty or so Singers they had rescued, four remained with Kesia and Zuriel.

  Kesia signed, Let’s go.

  Thirty-Nine

  Miren

  Miren followed Cale around the building, staying close to the tree line. The workers had gone inside and shut the front doors behind them. Miren could better hear the sound of their work—the clank of metal, the hiss of steam, the roar of what might be a furnace—but she did not hear Singing.

  As soon as Cale had said that he heard Fire Singing, she ha
d demanded that he lead her as close as they could get to the building without risking detection. But now, as they continued on, her anxiety about the others grew. She glanced into the wood, hoping to see Davri or Liviya or Arten. She hadn’t heard any more gunshots, but that could mean anything, right?

  “Do you really want to do this?” Cale whispered. “We have to find the others.”

  “I know,” Miren said, but she still didn’t turn back. Kesia might be in that building. She might be right there. “Are you sure you heard Fire Singing? How close did you get?”

  “Closer than this.” Cale continued on. Miren bit back her frustration. They were moving away from the coast, and likely farther away from the others, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn back. She had to know.

  Finally, Cale stopped and crouched behind a bush, motioning for her to join him. They could see the back of the building from here and the faint outline of another set of double doors.

  “How did you get this far so fast?” she asked.

  “What do you mean? I just kept running,” he whispered. “I thought if I went straight down the path, I would lead them away from everyone else.”

  Miren glanced at him, then away. She couldn’t decide whether he had been brave or foolish.

  Cale continued, “I dashed around over this way and noticed the doors in the back. They were closed like that when I first saw them, so I don’t think anyone really uses that entrance.”

  “They could be locked, though,” Miren said.

  “It might not be. You can’t see this place from the coast or the city. Maybe they rely on the fact that no one knows it’s here. Besides, I’ve seen workers come in and out of the front door, so we can’t go that way.”

  Miren stared at the door. Was it worth the risk? They wouldn’t be able to sneak over there. They would have to run across the clearing and hope they weren’t seen.

  There were likely still men looking for her and Cale.

  But Kesia might be there.

  “How fast can you run?” she asked.

  He looked at her. “You can’t mean that.”

  She stared at the hangar. How long would it take her to run across the clearing? Ten seconds? Twelve?