by Jen Guberman
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When I woke up, I could hear crackling sounds, and the air was full of the smell of fire. I scrambled up, blinking back sunlight as I tried to see what was happening.
“Good morning, E,” Zane said sweetly.
“What’s going on?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.
“I found some eggs in a nest nearby and figured I’d make us some breakfast!”
“You… wait… what?” I said, my vision clearing. Zane had started a tiny fire with twigs, dried leaves, and some matches from his bag.
“They aren’t chicken eggs,” he laughed lightly. “But I figured it’d be something different for once.”
“What are you cooking them on?”
“While it was just Lamb and I, we actually snagged a small pan back in Avid. She kept it in her bag. We made a couple fires out of scraps in the ruins while we were out on our own so we could at least have hot meals sometimes, even if we were just heating up vegetables and bread some days.”
He pulled out a miniature pan and I let out a breathy laugh of disbelief. Then, he revealed four small eggs in the leaves near his feet where he sat. While I waited on breakfast, I dug through my bag for a change of clothes—a simple green shirt and black jeans.
“Eos, don’t look!” Zane said, his voice uneasy.
“Don’t look at wha—” I turned to him. “Zane! What is that?”
“I said don’t look!” he said, shooing me away with a hand frantically.
“Is that a dead baby bird?” I shrieked, staring heartbroken at the contents of the egg spilled out on the pan.
“I—Eos, please! Stop looking at it!” he said, dumping the carcass on the ground and smoothing leaves over it.
“You can’t just throw it on the ground!”
“What else do you want me to do with it?!”
“Bury it, or something! Put the other eggs back!”
Zane scooped up the other three eggs and hurried off into the trees, returning a moment later.
“I didn’t know there were baby birds in those eggs,” he apologized.
“Let’s just bury this poor little guy,” I sighed, gingerly picking up the limp shape from the leaves.
Zane went over to a tree and scratched a shallow hole in the ground near the trunk. I placed the little bird in the hole and we covered it with dirt and leaves.
“Better?” Zane asked.
“No! You just killed a baby!”
“Don’t say it like that! It was a bird!”
“A baby bird! Until yesterday, we didn’t even know things like this still existed, and now here you are! Tromping through the woods, slaughtering their babies!” I accused.
“Now you’re just exaggerating! I was just trying to make us a nice breakfast!”
“I know… I’m sorry. Thank you for trying. Let’s just stay away from eggs,” I suggested.
“Fine.”
After we got ready to set out for the day, we began to make our way up part of the base of the mountain. My legs felt like lead after just an hour, and it didn’t look like we were any closer than we started that morning.
“I still don’t see any people, Zane.”
“I don’t either. Let’s just keep moving.”
The crashing sounds of the rushing water grew so loud that it became difficult to hear each other. Time passed with few words said, and eventually, we dragged ourselves to the flat level of the waterfall. I fell to my knees, panting for a moment before I realized.
There’s nobody up here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Where is everyone?” I asked Zane, shouting over the sounds of the waterfall.
“I don’t know,” he answered, donning a clueless expression.
“Should we just look around? I mean, we don’t need people here to find the key, as long as we have the right place.”
“Do we know this is even the right place?”
“No.”
We pulled out our daggers, cautiously drawing closer to the waterfall. It was incredible. The water poured from a source that towered over us and down into a shimmering body of crystalline water. The body of water drained itself into a stream that bent along the far side of the mountain, away from us. Ferns and other greenery filled the open area, with colorful flowers speckled against the green. I took off toward the water after tucking my blade back into my jacket.
“E! What are you doing?” Zane shouted over the crashing water after me, putting away his blade and chasing me.
“I knew it!” I hollered, turning to him with a wide grin. “Fish!”
Underneath the surface of the water were dozens of golden-orange, black, and cream colored fish slicing through the water as they swam. I searched through my bag until I found a slice of bread. Ripping off a chunk, I crumbled it up in my palms and tossed it into the water. The water began splashing and frothing as the fish frantically fought their ways to the surface, eagerly gulping up the bread. I smiled and laughed, looking back at Zane, who returned my smile.
“Look at that one!” He pointed, grabbing my shoulders to orient me more toward the waterfall.
He pointed at the water and my eyes followed his finger, spotting a bright red fish. The fish began to swim toward the waterfall, so out of sheer curiosity, I followed the fish from the edge of the land. Zane followed me as I neared the waterfall.
“E,” he said, too quiet to hear over the crashing water. “E—look. Come here!”
Zane began to change direction, moving toward the back edge of the rock wall of the mountain—behind the waterfall.
“Eos, there’s something behind the waterfall!”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I think we found it!” he exclaimed enthusiastically when he turned to face me.
“Clamorite?”
When I caught up with him, I saw it. Behind the waterfall, there was a narrow passage into a sort of grotto in the mountainside. We carefully made our way across the walkway, our feet mushing into the wet ground as the waterfall fell to our right, creating a sort of thick wall. We peeked around the corner, and inside the mountain was a circle of several dozen people who were sitting on the ground, singing and clapping their hands rhythmically. A few others stood outside the circle and stomped their feet every few claps that the others gave, and everyone looked peaceful and content.
I looked at Zane, confused and slightly uneasy about the abnormally cheerful prisoners. He returned my confusion with a shrug. We stood there for a moment watching the people. I’m just going to go for it.
I left my hiding place and walked confidently toward the circle without looking back at Zane. One of the group members facing my direction met my eyes with a warm smile and enthusiastically waved his arm, scooting over and patting the new empty seat in the circle. The boy must have been about 20 years old, with smooth ginger hair, pale skin, freckles, and caring eyes. When others noticed my entrance, a tan woman, young looking but noticeably older than me, with thick blonde hair in a messy bun and a nose piercing shaped like a star, sitting on the other side of the ginger-haired boy, called out to me.
“Come on in! Welcome to Clamorite!” she shouted over the singing, re-crossing her long legs.
The rest of the circle turned around to look at me, and my heart began racing even faster as I wondered what might happen if I didn’t turn around and run. Instead of running, I kept walking toward them, taking the seat next to the ginger-haired boy as the group members called out their welcome to me. I nodded, almost too shyly.
“It’s not too bad here! You’ll learn to love it!” the blonde woman said, leaning over the ginger boy and patting my knee. “I’m Lisette.”
“One of us!” the ginger-haired boy said, giving me a friendly side hug.
“This is Flynn,” the girl said with a cheery laugh.
They think I was arrested and brought here. They don’t even suspect me.
“Welcome,” said a deep voice from across the circle.
The source of a voice was a ta
ll, muscular, dark man, with stunningly white teeth as he smiled sincerely at me.
“I’m Morgan,” he said. “I’m the representative. Do you play any instruments or sing?”
I shook my head.
“That’s okay! Not everyone here does. You can just join in with those clapping, or stomping if you’d prefer. Whatever you’re comfortable with!” Morgan said.
My eyes scanned the wide room, looking for places where the key could be hidden, but there were no passages to other places—not even any nooks or crannies within the walls to check. Hopefully Zane keeps an eye out for it from the outside.
Just then, there began a melodious sound as Morgan started singing a new song. His voice was rich, and I caught myself staring as he sang. Shortly into the song, Flynn began to pat on his legs to the beat.
Right, right, left. Right, right, right, left.
Lisette joined in with Flynn, and a few others began patting at their legs, while others hummed at different pitches along with the vocals. I nervously watched the circle, quietly joining in by drumming on my thighs along with the others. Once I got the hang of the beat, I grew more comfortable and lowered my guard. These people are some of the nicest I think I’ve ever met.
After a few more songs with the group, people began to disperse, making their way out of the grotto and out toward the waterfall. I wondered if Zane was still out there, but figured he had already taken cover somewhere. At least, that’s what I thought until a scrawny, sandy-haired man ran back into the grotto toward the rest of us, yelling something about another new member. Right behind this man was Zane, crowded by some of the Clamorites. Morgan introduced himself and apologized that we were done with songs for the afternoon. When people were done greeting Zane, he approached me, pulling me to the side.
“Any sign of where it might be?” he asked.
“Not a clue. It’s empty in here. I don’t even see their rations.”
“The rations are outside. While you were in here, I poked around some more outside and found what looks like a little campsite along the mountain. I think that’s where they stay.”
“Can I help you two with anything?” interrupted Morgan, ambling over.
“No. Thank you, we’re—”
“Actually,” I cut in. “We are looking for something and we were wondering if you might know where it is.”
Zane shot me a furious glare.
“What?” I mouthed at him.
“Don’t pay her any mind. We both came from the same city—she was known for being a liar. They almost took her to Equivox for it, but she was more loud and disruptive in the city than anything. Her lies weren’t usually too harmful, so the officials took her here instead,” Zane lied, looking genuine.
“That’s not true!” I said, grabbing his shoulder, pulling his ear close to my mouth as I continued. “Zane, I really think these people can help us! Please trust me on this!”
Zane shook his head.
“Please.”
Zane let out a deep grumble and a sigh.
“Morgan,” I started. “We are looking for a small key. It might be in a box. Maybe wooden or mirrored or something of the sort.”
“I don’t think I know of it,” he smiled brightly at me. He turned to Zane and his smile transformed into an angered grimace. “But I’m not going to give it to you if you’re with him. I respect your honesty and openness. I’m not going to reward lying.”
“He’s a good person, deep down! He just wasn’t ready to trust you is all. We’ve been through a lot, including a lot of situations with some truly terrible people, and he was just trying to protect us.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow.
“We’re from Avid,” I admitted.
“Oh,” Morgan processed. “I see. What are you doing in Clamorite?”
“This key we’re looking for is in Clamorite somewhere.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll keep an eye out. Meanwhile, keep a low profile. You’re safe here—these are good people. But you can never be too safe. I don’t know why you want this key so bad, but I probably don’t want to ask more questions,” Morgan said, looking at me with suspicion. “And you aren’t one of us, so you don’t have rations. We don’t have enough for you—I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And as for the rations—we have food to last us a while, so we should be fine.”
Morgan nodded, turning to leave.
“Oh!” he said, looking back for a moment. “There’s another gathering tonight at sundown. Try to be there,” he smiled.
“Now what?” asked Zane.
“Now, we search.”
That afternoon, Zane and I searched the woods around the campsite. Whenever someone would ask us what we were doing, we would both casually respond with a “just looking around”. We continued until the sun started to set, with no luck finding the key.
Back in the grotto, Zane and I joined the exiles around a circle. Group members were excitedly chatting with one another while we waited. When Morgan arrived, a saxophone in his hands, the circle began cheering and whooping. He greeted them with a smile and took a seat at the far end of the circle, opposite Zane and I. In contrast to the circle earlier in the day, multiple people held instruments this time. Flynn began lazily strumming a guitar that he kept situated on his lap. A couple others held small drums, which they tapped rhythmically to the guitar’s sound. Lisette and another girl, a short girl with black hair, the tips dyed a faded red, began humming to the music. I sat patiently, doing nothing but listening. A riff on Morgan’s saxophone then joined the peaceful song, and the remaining people began soulfully singing, closing their eyes and swaying.
Zane looked at me, his expression slightly bothered.
“What’s wrong?” I asked quietly.
“This isn’t normal,” he responded. “Criminals singing and making music together in a happy circle of freaking friendship? This is just weird, and I don’t trust it.”
“Understandable. It is kind of weird.”
The group played a few more songs as the members stayed in their sort of mellow trance, until eventually, Morgan stood and spoke.
“Until tomorrow, my friends,” he said as he hugged a few of the people nearest him and made his way to the campground.
The people began dispersing—some followed after Morgan, others separated throughout the grotto with friends, and Lisette and Flynn stayed sitting by Zane and I.
“So,” Lisette started. “What’s your story?”
“Uh,” I hesitated, remembering Morgan’s advice. “It’s a long story…”
“I understand. It was difficult for me to talk about it when I was first exiled too,” she smiled sweetly, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I used to live in Rockhallow—”
“Me too!” I interjected excitedly, never having yet met another past citizen of my city.
“What’s your name?” she asked. “Do you have any older siblings I might have known?”
“Eos Dawn, and I don’t have any siblings.”
“I don’t think I ever heard anything of you. Did you have a job?”
“I was an in-city messenger.”
“Fantastic! How fun! I used to work in the library.”
“That explains why I don’t recall ever seeing you—I rarely went to the library,” I admitted with a laugh.
“Well, I was exiled about eight years ago, so even if you saw me, you probably wouldn’t have remembered me.”
“Do you mind me asking what your story is?”
“Not at all. Do you remember when Mr. Redelle became the leader? After his father stepped down from the position?”
“Yeah. I was about twelve or so years old.”
“And I was about twenty. One of the first laws Redelle had enacted was one prohibiting marriages from citizens of different cities. He convinced the other city leaders that the travel between two cities for such a purpose was ‘too dangerous’ and a ‘waste of resources’. The
leaders agreed without a bit of hesitation. My fiancé at the time had been relocated to Eastmeade because he was training to be a driver. He was a driver and he wasn’t allowed to come to Rockhallow to get me, and I wasn’t allowed to travel to Eastmeade. We had to call off our engagement because of the leaders. We didn’t give up right away though. I protested. I posted flyers all over the city, shaming them. I spoke up on the streets, handing out more flyers. I egged Redelle’s house once, too. A few days after the egg incident, he sent officials to take me off the streets when I was speaking out against him. They just took me to the courtroom and sentenced me here for being a public disturbance. That was the end of it. Redelle told me he sent officials to Eastmeade to give my fiancé the news. He couldn’t follow me and get himself exiled though because he had younger siblings he was helping his mom take care of. Curious, how Redelle would send his officials to another city to break off an engagement, but he wouldn’t let me move to Eastmeade to marry my fiancé.”
“That’s terrible!” I said, shocked.
“What about you?” Zane asked Flynn, who was still picking his guitar softly.
Flynn looked up and stopped playing. When he looked up, I noticed a small golden key on a thin cord of leather around his neck. Zane must have spotted it at the same time—he sat up eagerly, never taking his eyes off of Flynn’s neck.
“Well,” Flynn started. “I was arrested for having fun. I goofed around in my city—caused too much of a problem, apparently.”
Flynn went quiet, looking back down at his guitar as he resumed his quiet strumming.
“We try to make the best of it here,” Flynn said. “There’s a reason we ended up here.”
“He’s always saying that. He knows I don’t believe it, and frankly I don’t think he believes it himself,” Lisette complained.
“I do believe it. Everything happens for a reason.”
“Yeah—the reason I’m here is because Redelle, the leaders, and their officials are terrible people who ruined my life! It’s as simple as that! I was happy—I didn’t do anything wrong, I did my job, I had a fiancé who loved me… But they couldn’t let someone just be happy! They had to destroy it. Not only that, but they had to destroy my entire life and send me away to live in the freaking woods for the rest of my life! Is that a good enough reason for you, Flynn?”