The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1)

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The Frost Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 1) Page 17

by Carol Beth Anderson


  I looked at all the space around me and my daddy. The wind blew through the trees, and our corn was almost tall enough to play chase-and-hide with my friends. One of our caynins brushed against my leg. “That old city sounds like a terrible place to live,” I said.

  -The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios

  “Krey,” Nora said, “we have to find a place to stay. There are guards in the city looking for me. You too, probably.”

  Krey was the only one still sitting. He was hunched over, eyes closed, rubbing his temples with both hands. When Nora placed a hand on his forearm, he pulled away. She gave Ovrun a helpless look.

  “She’s right, Krey,” Ovrun said. “I know where we can go, but it’ll take a while to get there. We should travel in the dark.”

  “Fine.” Krey stood so forcefully that if the bench hadn’t been bolted down, he would’ve toppled it. The dim lantern light shone on his tight jaw. He gathered up all the papers, folded them, and shoved them in his pack. “Lead the way, Ovrun.”

  “Where are we going?” Nora asked. “I don’t have money for an inn.”

  Ovrun grabbed the lamp and laughed. “We’re not staying at an inn. They’d find us by lunchtime. Come on, this way.” He gestured, and Nora and Krey followed him farther into the park.

  Nora jogged a few steps to catch up with Ovrun. Krey clearly needed time alone to brood.

  “So you didn’t bring any money?” Ovrun asked.

  “I don’t have any.”

  Ovrun swiveled his head to gape at her. “You don’t have money?”

  Nora shrugged. “When I need something, someone else buys it for me. And when we visit a business in the city, we don’t carry coins.”

  Ovrun nodded. “Oh yeah, I escorted your aunt to the city once. She bought everything on credit.”

  “The merchants know we always pay on time.”

  Behind them, Krey spoke. “It’s easy to pay on time when your coffers are full of money earned by hard-working citizens.”

  Nora forced her voice to stay level. “Yes, Krey, we collect taxes. Like every other government in history. That’s how we pay for this park.”

  “And for designer clothes and a full icehouse,” Krey added.

  In response, Nora pulled up the hood of her jacket, which she was still wearing under Ovrun’s coat. She wished the hood were soundproof. The lining, made of soft suede, rubbed against her ears. The warmth it provided was tinged with guilt. How many loaves of bread would a baker have to sell to purchase a garment like this?

  “Nora,” Ovrun said, “you mentioned Faylie. I remember her and her mom.”

  Nora nodded and bit her lip.

  “Did you think she was in the militia?”

  “Yeah.” Nora swallowed. “But she wasn’t. She just moved away.”

  “Oh good. I’d hate for her to be caught up in all this. She seemed nice.”

  Nora nodded, holding back tears. “She was.” Until she wasn’t. A tear slipped onto her cheek. Was it possible to feel both relief and grief, all at once? Nora would’ve been devastated to learn that her former friend was a mental slave. But she’d half-convinced herself that Faylie’s departure wasn’t actually a rejection. Now, the pain of it slammed into her all over again.

  A good cry in her soft bed was in order, but that wouldn’t happen any time soon. As Ovrun led them into a wooded area at the park’s border, Nora gave herself an internal pep talk. Focus. Faylie’s gone. You have new friends now.

  It didn’t work; the loss still sat like a stone in her throat. When Ovrun spoke, his words jolted her back to the present.

  “On the other side of these woods is the manufacturing sector of the city. It’s pretty much deserted this time of night. Once we get through it, we’ll pass through a residential area before we reach the Eastern Road.”

  Nora’s head swiveled toward him. “The Eastern Road? Don’t tell me you’re taking us . . .” She trailed off.

  Krey wasn’t so hesitant. “We’re going to Deroga? We need to hide, not get killed!”

  “Exactly,” Nora muttered, eyes glued to Ovrun. Deroga was the pre-day capital of the nation of Therro. Nearly fifteen million people had once lived there. A city that size was unimaginable now. The population of the entire planet was currently estimated at twenty million. Only half a million lived in the kingdom of Cellerin.

  “We won’t go anywhere near the trogs,” Ovrun said with a quiet laugh. “I’m guessing neither of you have been to the ruins?” When they confirmed it, he continued, “Think how big a city had to be to fit millions of people. Deroga’s locked in by the bay on its eastern border, so it grew in every other direction. We’ll only have to go about twenty clommets to get to the western outskirts. There are a bunch of little cities and towns there. Suburbs, they used to call them. That’s where we’re going. The suburbs are a little creepy, but they’re deserted.”

  Nora’s heart pounded harder, and not just from physical exertion. In hours, she’d be inside the Derogan ruins, surrounded by memories and old bones. She shivered at the thrilling thought.

  “We’re almost back to the road,” Ovrun said as he held back some branches from a scraggly bush, letting Nora and Krey pass. “Let’s keep our voices down.”

  They walked through the quiet manufacturing sector at a rapid pace, made more difficult by the heavy backpacks they carried. Nora soon had sore feet and was short of breath. She was pretty sure her companions would’ve gone even faster without her. Krey, after all, went running for fun—something Nora couldn’t fathom. And when Ovrun had worked at the palace, he’d worked out in the weight room before every shift. Nora suppressed her complaints. Maybe I’m a spoiled princess, but I don’t have to act like one.

  They didn’t talk much as they continued through the city’s dark residential streets, only stopping to refill their glass water bottles at a neighborhood pump. At last, they reached the Eastern Road. Without pausing, Ovrun turned onto it.

  “The suburbs are still twenty clommets from here?” Nora asked. Even at their quick pace, it would take over three hours to walk that far.

  “Yeah,” Ovrun said. “By the time it gets light, we’ll be far enough out of town to avoid any guards or search parties. I hope.”

  They’d been on the Eastern Road for half an hour when Ovrun asked, “You feeling okay, Nora?”

  She would’ve turned red if she weren’t already flushed from exertion. Apparently he noticed that I’m panting like this is the farthest I’ve ever walked. Which, to be fair, was true. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Krey handed out some fruit he’d packed. Nora devoured hers and didn’t argue when Krey offered her another piece. After they’d eaten, they all fell silent. Nora wondered if her companions found the dark road and their rhythmic steps as hypnotizing as she did. At least her rapidly developing blisters kept her awake.

  After some time, Krey thought he saw light behind them. He took to the air and discovered a small group traveling with a lantern. He couldn’t tell if they were guards, but nobody was taking any chances. He, Ovrun, and Nora hid in a tree until the other travelers passed.

  Ovrun led them to a narrower road, and they continued walking for hours that felt like days.

  By the time they neared the first suburb, they were squinting into the morning sun. Ovrun turned to Nora, whose lips were pressed into a thin line. He was pretty sure she was holding back tears.

  He wished he could reach out to her, but he wasn’t sure how she’d respond. It had been a tough journey for her. Unlike her companions, who both wore boots, Nora had on simple, leather shoes. They’d stopped a couple of hours earlier to bandage her bleeding toes and heels.

  Ovrun gave her an encouraging smile. “Nearly there. You got the bad end of this deal, Nora. I’d let you use my boots if they weren’t so big.” Wanting to distract her, he pointed. “See all those skinny lines in the sky? Those are Skytrain tracks.”

  She lifted her eyes to his and managed a small smile. “What I wouldn’t give to be
on a Skytrain right now.” After several seconds, her smile disappeared. “Are you sure trogs don’t live in the suburb ruins?”

  “I’m sure. It’s too close to civilization. The main city is their territory—where the buildings are tall and crammed together.”

  “I don’t understand how they survive there,” Nora said.

  “They grow food on roofs,” Krey said. “I’ve read about it. Then they trade with each other. Some of them even venture into inhabited areas for supplies.”

  “But it’s illegal to trade with trogs,” Nora said.

  Krey laughed. “Lots of things are illegal.”

  “So they have their own society?” Nora asked. “I thought they were recluses.”

  “They were in the early years. Back then, there weren’t many of them.” He chuckled. “I guess it takes someone special to live among millions of decomposing bodies. Once there were only bones left, more people moved in, enough to build communities.”

  “More like gangs,” Ovrun said.

  “True. There’s a lot of violence between the different groups. And none of them like outsiders to intrude on their turf.”

  The road led them past a few buildings, marking the start of the suburbs. Before long, hundreds of structures surrounded the travelers. Two-hundred-year-old solarcars and solarbuses, some of them now host to weeds, bushes, and even trees, populated the dirt streets. All ecophalt paving had disintegrated long ago, but vehicles had been made of sturdier stuff.

  “I’m surprised there weren’t more vehicles on the road into town.” Krey’s voice was quiet, like he feared waking the ghosts.

  “I think the early scavengers moved them to make it easier to transport their wares,” Ovrun said. “They probably sold as many as they could, until the batteries all went bad.” He led them around several solarcars that had run into each other. “Most of the ones in the cities got smashed up when the drivers died.”

  “How far into this suburb are we going?” Krey asked.

  “A couple more clommets. The farther we go, the harder it is for search parties to find us. I have a building in mind.”

  Ovrun’s eyes shifted toward Nora, as they seemed to do every couple of minutes. She was gaping at the surrounding buildings, shaking her head. While most of the structures were still standing, many were covered in graffiti, everything from angry words to beautiful art to obscene cartoons. “Why aren’t there very many doors or windows?” Nora asked.

  Krey turned to her. “You’ve heard of polymus, right?”

  “I know what it looks like, but that’s about it.”

  “It was a renewable preday substance, made from fungi. Researchers are trying to figure out how to recreate it. It eventually breaks down, so preday builders only used it for parts that were easy to replace, like doors and window frames. See that?” He pointed to a door riddled with cracks and holes that was, miraculously, still hanging. “That’s polymus.” He gestured to another door that was still intact. “That one’s probably faux wood.”

  Ovrun turned to Krey. “How do you know all this, man? I’ve been here a bunch of times, and I never knew why the doors were gone.”

  Krey shrugged. “I read a book about it.”

  The three travelers were silent until Nora pointed to a sign in front of a small, green building. “FLEX REPAIR,” she read. “Flexes were communication devices, right?”

  “Yeah,” Krey said. “Flexscreens. They used them for about a million other things too.”

  “And there was a business just for repairing them? They didn’t repair anything else?”

  “You think that’s unbelievable, check out the yellow building.” Ovrun gestured across the street to a sign reading, SIMPLY SOCKS.

  “Is that a store? Just for socks?” Nora asked.

  “I think so.”

  Nora shook her head. “How many types of socks do you need?”

  He gestured to her blistered feet. “Wish we could get you some new ones, but scavengers got there first.” He pointed ahead and to the left. “See that building with all the graffiti? We’re turning there.”

  When they arrived at the building, they all stopped. Ovrun watched Nora shaking her head slowly as she took in the graffiti, which consisted of a single word, repeated in countless colors and styles:

  WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?

  “It’s a chapel,” Krey said softly.

  Ovrun nodded. A large Rimorian star, covered in layers of paint, still hung above the open doorway.

  Nora ran her fingers along the thick layers of painted WHYs. “Wonder if they ever got an answer,” she murmured.

  “Does anyone get an answer to that question?” Krey asked.

  Ovrun turned to look at his friend, who was standing with his arms folded tight and eyebrows drawn together. Their eyes met for a second, and then Krey turned away.

  The distant call of a caynin rang through the air, jolting them all out of their distracted states. “Let’s go,” Ovrun said.

  Ten minutes later, he led them onto a street full of large, plain buildings. Most were only one story, with blocky construction and minimal windows.

  “These are preday factories.” Ovrun pointed at the roofs. “See, no smokestacks. Everything was done with clean energy. We’re headed for that blue one on the right.”

  He led them to the building’s front doorway, which had hinges but no door. They walked inside a large room, full of dusty machines.

  “What is this place?” Nora asked.

  Ovrun ran his hand along the machinery. “Some sort of food factory. The first time I came here, I found a container under one of the machines. It didn’t have a label, but it looked like those food jars they have in the Cellerin City Museum.” He pulled out his matches and lit the lantern. “We’re going to the room behind this one. It’s dark back there.”

  Ovrun led them past the machines to a metal door. It had held up well through the centuries. He held it open, and they entered a room with no windows. Holding up the lantern and closing the door behind them, he said, “This was a warehouse. I’ll show you around.”

  They walked around the huge room. Ovrun pointed out empty crates and pallets. When Nora sneezed, he said, “Sorry about the dust. But it’s better than most places around here. That door keeps animals out.”

  He led them to the center of the room, and his lantern illuminated a pile of blankets and pillows, along with two more lanterns. Off to the side, a ring of stones surrounded charcoal and ashes.

  “Is this your stuff?” Krey asked.

  Ovrun glanced at Nora, who was staring at the bedding. “Yeah,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual. “Have a seat.” When they were all settled, he lit the two extra lanterns and cleared his throat. “I used to come here with, uh . . . my friend.”

  “You used to walk over thirty clommets from your house to cuddle up around an indoor campfire with a friend?” Krey asked dryly.

  Nora lifted her eyes to meet his.

  Ovrun swallowed. “We didn’t walk; we took her family’s orsas.”

  Nora stared at him. “Her? You have a girlfriend?” He could hear her other question as clearly as if she’d asked it aloud: And you kissed me back?

  Ovrun didn’t get easily embarrassed, but this definitely qualified as awkward. Ignoring Krey’s smirk, he held Nora’s gaze. “Had. She broke up with me a year ago.”

  “Oh. Okay.” There was a long silence, and then Nora said, “The pillows and blankets look . . . comfortable.”

  “Um, yeah, we were always tired after being on orsas for so long.” Ovrun gestured to the circle of stones, anxious to draw Nora’s gaze away from the blankets. “As Krey guessed, we used to make fires in here. Just for cooking, though. We figured with a room this big, the smoke would dissipate pretty well. Outdoor fires might attract attention.”

  Nora’s gaze was still on the blankets and pillows. Ovrun wanted to hold her and assure her that Joli, his ex, meant nothing to him now. He wanted to insist that, while Joli was pretty, Nora wa
s gorgeous; while Joli made him smile, Nora made him laugh; while Joli’s kisses were nice, Nora’s were—

  He cleared his throat. He could write a whole list of what was wrong with that train of thought. Number one: she just wants to be friends, you idiot.

  “Anyone hungry?” Krey asked.

  Ovrun flinched. Number two: there’s another person in the room. “Yeah,” he said, “we should get some food and rest. I know we’re all exhausted. We can talk more in the morning.”

  There was little conversation as they all ate fruit and dried meat. Nora didn’t even wait for the lanterns to be extinguished before she curled up in a blanket and rested her head on a pillow.

  Ovrun left the lanterns to Krey and lay with his head half a met from Nora’s. “Sorry it’s so uncomfortable,” he whispered.

  She propped herself up on her elbows and smiled softly at him. “Don’t be silly. I was just thinking how amazing this is, lying on the floor of a preday warehouse with the two people in the world I can actually consider friends.”

  Krey extinguished the lamps, and Ovrun was struck with a powerful urge to reach into the darkness, draw Nora close, and kiss her. Resisting was the most difficult thing he’d done all night.

  21

  When I was fifteen, a five-year-old boy in our community developed an ability to heal others. It explained why he’d been sneaking into his parents’ kitchen to consume blood from uncooked meat.

  People traveled from distant communities to beg for this boy’s help. He could heal cuts and broken bones but not internal illnesses and cancers. However, in our grieving world, any amount of healing represented hope—a commodity that was all too rare.

  -The First Generation: A Memoir by Liri Abrios

  “Don’t forget lamp oil,” Ovrun said.

  “Oh, right.” Krey’s comment was followed by the light scratch of a pencil on paper.

  From her cocoon of blankets, Nora decided it was time to join the conversation. “I need socks,” she said. “And boots. Please. I never want to look at those other shoes again.”

 

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