by Levi Jacobs
“Ah no, actually, I don’t,” Tai said, not wanting to put himself any more in their debt.
“But you are not using,” the Minchu said.
Inwardly, Tai cursed. He’d hoped to keep that secret. “You can tell?”
The Minchu grinned, a pipe clamped in one corner of his mouth. “I was not born under a false star.”
Tai gripped the stone around the middle, too thick for his hands to touch. The real question was, would it be better to show them his strength or feign weakness? But there would be no masking the power of his resonance. Strength, then.
Tai struck his resonance, power vibrating into him, washing away his exhaustion. His skin tightened, arms stronger against the stone, back straighter. One of the side effects of resonance, any resonance, was strengthening the body, making it able to take more punishment. His arms would need it, to lift this thing. Tai breathed in and pulled upward, willing the air to lift him and the stone.
The stone lifted under his body, not as fast as he would alone, but still a pace or more off the floor. Tai’s arms screamed from the weight, but he willed them strength for just a little longer. Curses sounded behind him, and a gasp, and Tai’s head snapped over to see what was happening, if this was the excuse they would take to kill him.
Instead he saw bluff-faced Karhail, jaw hanging open.
Tai dropped the stone in surprise. The stone dropped, hitting the ground with a loud crack, and Tai shot upward, no longer weighed down. He slammed into the ceiling, rough stone grating on power-toughened skin. Tai dropped his push in surprise—and started falling toward the floor, twenty paces below.
“Shit!” he shouted, bouncing himself back up—then finally managed to come down, not much more gracefully than the stone.
You shouldn’t be doing this.
Karhail had sheathed his blade. “You did this without yura?”
Tai nodded, wary.
Someone whistled, and the Minchu said, “No one is meant to lift the first stone. There were others…”
Tai squared his shoulders, resonance still thrumming through him, like the blood of life. “You said you’d give me safe passage if I did two things. I answered your question and wafted your stone. So let’s go.”
Karhail regarded him for a moment, flexing his neck. “I have a proposition for you,” he said at last, “if you’re willing.”
“A proposition?”
Ilrick grinned. “Looks like you’re in, kid.”
“In?” Tai looked to him, shoulders tensing. “To what?”
“What else?” Ilrick gestured at the men around him. “The rebellion.”
“The rebellion?” Tai echoed, then the pieces fell into place: Ilrick’s dislike of the Helpers. The secrecy about their location. A bunch of soldiers hidden in a cave. These were the rebels who’d burned ships on the docks.
“Yeah,” Ilrick said. “With an ability to waft like that, you’re definitely in.”
“If he takes the proposition,” Karhail said, looking more interested now that he’d seen Tai waft.
Tai rolled his shoulders. “What proposition?” The last thing he wanted was to get involved in another doomed rebellion, but it couldn’t hurt to hear them out.
“A burglary,” Karhail said, “something we’ve been wanting to do a long time, but haven’t had the manpower.” The sandy-haired man glared at this. Did he look—jealous? Another wafter then, maybe.
“And you want me to do it?” He let his resonance drop, wanting to save his power in case he ended up needing it. The bends hit, but not nearly as bad after such a short use.
Karhail nodded. “Alone. Prove yourself.”
Tai laughed. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got a bunch of friends locked up in the prison camp, and the longer I spend in here, the longer they’re in there.”
“There could be a lot of money in it for you.”
That stopped him. Money could get him an army. And an army could get Fisher out. “How much money?”
Karhail rubbed his chin, and Tai could swear he saw a hint of humor in the dark man’s eyes. “As much as this mine can produce in a week.”
Tai barely kept from goggling. House Coldferth’s entire production for a week? That would be hundreds of balls—thousands! “And where would I get that?”
Ilrick grinned. “From House Coldferth, of course.”
“Their mine compound,” Karhail added. “We have information on where they store their yura, and when they send it to the docks.”
“The mine compound. Meaning the place I came through with the heavy armed guard at all times?” Tai remembered the grin on the red-bearded man’s face, anticipating a fight with Tulric and the lawkeepers. Those had been some serious fighters. “Why would I try to take them single-handedly when all of you together can’t?”
Ilrick grinned. “Because you can waft.” The sandy-haired man shifted behind him, and he scowled. “Aye, you can waft too, Beal. But not high enough to get over their bloody walls.”
“We’ve tried,” Karhail said. “Three times. If we were able to get that yura…” He shook his head. “What we need is real money to get arms and feed people, so that we can start recruiting in earnest. We have a shipment in town, just waiting for payment but…”
“But one good wafter could do what all of us together can’t,” Ilrick said, to more scowls from Beal. “Swoop over those walls and snatch a bale of yura.”
A bale of yura. Prophets. But Tai shook his head. “I’ve been in that compound. There are way too many guards to get through.”
“During the day,” Ilrick said. “At night, they run a skeleton crew on the walls and a couple in the middle, half-dozing. Problem is, the rest of em are sleeping a couple paces away. Raise the alarm and you’re dead.”
“So you want me to waft in, grab a bale of yura, and waft out again without being seen?”
Karhail cracked his knuckles. “You look like you might have some experience getting in and out of tight places.”
“And then what, I keep the yura?”
“No. We need that yura. You can keep a handful, but the dealer’s expecting a full bale. What you get is information. Where they keep it, how to get in. Another week goes by, two, and you hit them again.”
“And that yura’s all yours,” Ilrick said, sounding wistful. “You could dice for a year on that much moss.”
Or hire an army.
But something else had occurred to Tai. “And you’re serious about recruiting? You want to, what, push the Councilate out of the city?”
“Aye,” Karhail said,” to begin with. And then we take the fight to them, rally Seingard and the hilltribes to us, the Yersh if they’ll have us, and take Worldsmouth itself.”
Tai nodded. It was a grandiose plan. “How many are you now?”
Karhail grimaced. “Us five, and another ten or so in the forest. That’s why we need the yura, to start real recruitment, start training real soldiers.”
Tai weighed the man, weighed his friends. “And you know how to train soldiers, to run an army?”
The others glanced to Karhail, whose face was stony. “I do.”
Tai nodded. “Then I’ll take your proposition, but I don’t need the money.”
Karhail and Ilrick both frowned at this. “What do you need?”
Tai smiled. “I need an army.”
After some negotiating they agreed Tai would steal the yura, proving himself loyal and capable, and funding their initial recruitment. In exchange, when their numbers were big enough, the rebels would help him take the prison camp, freeing his kids and hopefully the rest of the prisoners with them. In the meantime Tai would work with them, fight with them, recruit with them. “And,” he said, “I may have a few more friends to bring with me.”
“They are welcome,” Karhail said, “if they’re loyal and able to fight.” They were seated in a circle now on the rough stone benches, Ilrick having shared around a skin of mulled wine.
Tai held down a wince. Aelya wasn’t really able
to fight—Gods, he didn’t even know if she was okay. “They will be.”
“Well,” Ilrick said, setting down his cup. “Might as well make introductions. Me you know, I’m the resident mosstongue for recruiting and talking our way in places. Karhail you met, and—“
“He ain’t part of us yet,” the other wafter put in. He had a fishy look, with wide-set eyes and thick lips.
“—this is Beal,” Ilrick went on, pointing at him, “previously our best wafter. He keeps us all in good spirits--”
Beal scowled.
“—and the giant man to your left is Lumo, our resident brawler and yura expert.”
Lumo held out one massive hand. “How are you,” he asked, mountain accent clipping the r.
Tai’s hand was swallowed in his. “I’m… fine.” He’d never spoken to a Minchu before—they tended to keep to themselves, rarely coming into the city. “And you?”
Lumo shrugged. “Eh. Not so bad.”
“What he means to say,” Ilrick cut in, “is that his life’s shattering terrible and his only friend is his pipe. Idn’t that right, Lumo?”
The giant man inclined his head left. “More or less, yes. Tai, is this true, that you don’t need yura to waft?”
“It’s true.”
Lumo nodded, green eyes serious. “We will speak more of this after.”
Ilrick cleared his throat. “And the man at the back,” he gestured to a thin man sprawled on a far stone, “is Weiland, the laziest timeslip you’ll ever meet.”
Weiland gave Tai a nod, eyes half-lidded. Tai didn’t buy it—lots of kids on the streets used the appearance of laziness to put potential attackers off guard. And Weiland looked like he might know something of the streets.
“And you’re the ones who burned Galya’s ships last week?”
At this Karhail grinned, as much malice as mirth in it. “Us and a couple more. Heard about it, did you?”
“More than that,” Tai said. “The lawkeepers doubled their watch in the Bottoms afterwards, looking for somebody to blame. Probably the reason I ended up on their bad side.”
That, and Aelya cold-cocking Tulric.
“You’ll get revenge soon enough,” Karhail said, drinking deep of the skin.
“Is that why you’re all wearing Coldferth uniforms? To sneak in?”
“Aye,” Ilrick grinned. “Ye’d be amazed what a little costume can do. We’ll get you one before you go.”
“Speaking of which,” Weiland said, looking half-asleep with a sage cigarette in hand, “He ain’t gonna do much good if we keep him up, tired as he is. Still ten hands or more till dark.”
“Ten hands?” That meant he’d been in mines all night, and most of the morning. Exhaustion hit him like a lead blanket. “Sleep, yeah. Sleep sounds good.”
Tai woke to the sound of a plucked lute, air dark and smelling of sage. He sat up, for a disorienting moment having no idea where he was. Then a giant man across the cave from him said “You are awake. That is good.”
Lumo. “Is it time to go?”
“Not yet. But I saw that you had some trouble wafting, and I wanted to help.” The wiry-haired Minchu shifted, lute looking comically small against his wide chest. “Is it true you can resonate without yura?
Tai stretched, sage smoke hanging in sheets illuminated by a single lantern next to the giant man. “I can.” No reason to deny it now.
The Minchu leaned forward, eyes intense. “How did you do this thing?”
Tai shrugged. “I don’t really know. It was a long time ago.”
“But you overcame your demon?”
“My demon?”
“Yes, the… spirit guide, I think you call them.”
Tai thought back to the end of the resistance. “My mother was my first spirit guide. I’d only had her for about six months, but then during the battle—when I started wafting—yeah, she never came back. Is that connected?
Lumo exhaled smoke. “Yes. The one you call a spirit guide is not a guide at all. They only want your uai.” At Tai’s questioning look he said, “Your power. The power your resonance uses—we call it uai.”
“Okay. But you’re saying spirit guides are using that power?”
“Yes. They are not ancestors, or friends, or famous people, or whatever form they take. They are the hungry spirits of people who died without satisfaction, and they walk the earth still, looking for ways to live again. Without their bodies, they cannot use physical energy. But as spirits, they can still feed off uai.”
“So my mother was just a... random ghost?”
You’re not seriously believing this.
Lumo nods. “I am sorry my friend. I do not mean to offend your beliefs. But the demons are attracted to uai shining from infants—even we can sense it in babies—and as we grow, they form a personality from our memories, someone we will care about or feel tied to. They usually begin speaking after puberty.”
That much was true at least—people gained their spirit guides sometime their blood or voice change. But hungry spirits? “How do you know all this?”
Lumo drew from his pipe, green eyes reflecting the orange coal. “It is part of my religion, my people’s religion. But please, do not believe me. Try these words out, and experience if they are true for you. That is the real test.”
Hake snorted. That’ll be easy.
“So you’re saying that sometime during that battle I… overcame my mother, and that’s how I got access to my resonance without using yura?”
“Yes. She was feeding off the uai you would use for wafting. Do your people not know this?”
“We know that when an ancestor, or a demon, when they leave, we don’t need yura anymore. But we say it comes from pleasing our ancestors, not overcoming them.”
Lumo nodded. “For us it is a battle, it is fighting and overcoming. But we have shamans and age mates who help us with this. To do it alone…” He shook his head, eyes gleaming in the low light. “It is remarkable.”
Tai tried to remember the battle when he’d gained his resonance, to remember what exactly had happened, but it was all a blur. Followed by the Blackspine. “So I could actually waft the whole time, but my mother was feeding on my pow—my uai?”
“Yes. But she was not your mother, Tai. Probably you recognized that in the end. She was a demon. Are others here overcoming their demons too?”
“Not really. Not that I know of. Usually it’s the old ones who would go to the caves—to these caves—and sometimes they would please their ancestors, and come back with powers. But those are mostly stories now. And I don’t know any lighthairs or Seinjial who’ve done it.”
Lumo nodded. “Uai comes from winter plants. In the north the sun is too strong to grow these foods, so they do not have much uai. I am surprised you have enough winterfood here. In the mountains, it is almost all we can grow.”
Tai leaned against the rock wall, trying to sort it all out. “So if we all already have our resonances, what does yura do?”
Lumo tapped his pipe out against the stone, then began refilling it from a pouch in his breast pocket. “Think of it like dreamleaf for demons. When they are awake, the demons are feeding off your uai, preventing you from using it. Yura makes them drunk, giving you access to your uai and resonance for a short time. When they wake up,” he shrugged, leaning in to the lamp to relight his pipe, “they begin eating your uai again and you cannot resonate, until you get more yura or overcome your demon.”
“You’ve overcome yours?”
He pulled deep, sage crackling. “Oh yes. We all overcome our first demon at sixteen winters. But to do it without aid…” He shook his head.
“Could it be connected to madness? I—wasn’t myself, for a while, after the battle.”
That’s an understatement.
The giant man looked at him thoughtfully, smoke drifting from wide nostrils. “I do not think so. Perhaps it was only stress and grief from that time. Has the… madness continued?”
Tai popped his back, thinking
about the fight with Tulric, his attack on the prison camp. “I—don’t think so. I haven’t used it for a long time, but yesterday I had to, and it seemed fine.”
It wasn’t fine. Tai, he just wants to convince you it’s okay, so you’ll use your powers for the rebellion.
“Then I think you have nothing to worry about.”
Hake snorted. He hasn’t seen the Blackspine.
Lumo shifted. “I noticed you have some trouble wafting.”
Tai rubbed his back ruefully, raw from where he’d slammed into the ceiling earlier. “Yeah. Like I said, it’s been a while.”
“May be I can help with that. You will need to waft better if you are going to sneak into that compound.”
“You’re a wafter too?”
“I am a worker. A—brawler, you call them.”
“Then how do you know about wafting?”
Lumo shrugged. “Everyone knows the basics. I could have been a wafter, if my parents had chosen differently.”
He sounded wistful, but Tai decided to let that one go. “So what can you tell me?”
Lumo drew from his pipe. “Your resonance is strong, so you have different problems than others. Usually, it is a question of how to get stronger. For you, it is about control.”
Tai grimaced. “About not running into walls at high speed.”
Lumo shared. “Yes. Though you made a very comical figure. But let me ask you this: when you are abilitying, do you push in just one direction, or two directions?”
Tai thought about it. “Uh, when I want to go up, I push up, I guess.”
Lumo nodded. “And so you bounce into the sky, instead of going up slowly, and stopping where you want to.”
“Yeah. I guess it’s never mattered, because I haven’t tried wafting inside buildings before.”
“Well try this, my friend. When you push up, also push down. Not as hard, but push a little, to balance it out. Try it now.”
“Okay.” Tai struck his resonance, trying to push up and down at once. He shot up then slammed down, barely keeping his feet. “Ow! Meckstains!”