by S. K Munt
I thought back to when Bastien had been leading me through the caves, and how I’d noticed that the flames in his torch had flickered and ebbed according to my mood. ‘I had an inkling- but I guess I needed some genuine nasty kindling to help me tap into it.’
Do they still think I’m a harmless princess?
Nope. They like you less, but they’re scared of you more!
Good. I stepped around Sam and held up my hand to silence everyone that was still exclaiming over what I’d just done- some with fright and others with delight. No one seemed to be seriously hurt because the fire had had only just managed to lick the group of foul-mouthed miscreants with the curled tip of its tongue before retreating, but I was pleased to see that Papyrus’s forehead was now as bald as his head was, and that Montgomery’s entire sleeve had caught on fire and was taking so long to put out that I did not doubt that he would have burns.
‘While I have everyone’s attention, let me make something incredibly clear to all of you!’ I wasn’t yelling, but my voice was ringing out through that cavernous space. Lady Lucida looked irritatingly unperturbed by my fiery outburst, but the others were listening even as they put Montgomery’s scorched sleeve out. ‘I do not like the word whore.’ I marched up to Papyrus and produced another ball of fire by concentrating hard this time, making sure that it came only from within and filled the palm of my hand. ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones… but fireballs cause deformities. Either refrain from using that word, or be prepared for me to wash your filthy mouth out with flames.’
Papyrus crossed his arms and tried to look as non-threatened as possible. ‘I’ve met bigger and scarier people than you in my life, princess. It’s going to take a lot more than a hot temper to put me or my mouth in my place.’
Sam tried to tell me that he was bluffing, but I already knew that and so I smiled as I said: ‘If that’s true… then why did you piss yourself, Captain Cooper?’ Then I stepped back and twisted away, smiling at Martya as she saw the wet stain on the front of the Captain’s pants and began to giggle hysterically. I heard Papyrus suck in his breath and then everyone else’s laughter as he turned and ran out of the room, but I didn’t stop to watch him go, for I was too busy enjoying the sound of laughter around me, and seeing the smiles on those tired, cheated faces.
Sam was right: sometimes life just needed to be fun.
14.
The Factory
Larkin
Wednesday August 24th, AA644
The Sequestered managed to fall asleep quickly and quietly that night despite my pyrotechnic display, and I was grateful for it because it was noisy enough inside my brain as it was without the added distractions. I needed to wind down but instead of feeling exhausted after throwing flames, I felt more keyed up than I had the last time and I didn’t understand why. Was that because it had come from an outside source instead of from with me? Or was my anger at being called a… that awful word… keeping me simmering and alert enough to drift to the surface of my shallow slumber every hour or so? I had no idea, but I did know that soon I would have to start playing with my fire more- finding out what my limits were, and learning how to control my triggers so the next time I threw a wall of fire at someone, I’d have meant it.
I slept in one of the stalls upstairs with Martya, smushed in with her friend Channél and all three of our furs, and though Bastien and Sam had claimed the stall next to us, I was very aware of the fact that they had a hurricane lamp in there and that they were not going to sleep as they ought to have been. I waited and waited for that glow to disappear from above me (the stall walls did not go all the way to the ceiling) but by one a.m., I gave up wondering what they were doing and stuck my head out of my curtain and behind theirs (there were no doors, just fabric partitions) so that I could take a look, and because I knew that moving around would take some of the edge off my claustrophobia which was getting worse and worse as Martya unconsciously snuggled closer and closer to me in her fitful slumber.
To my surprise, both men were both sitting up with their backs against the walls and pads of old recycled paper in their hands, scratching away with pencils. I didn’t have to ask what Sam was doing because the fact that he covered the paper with his hand and told me: ‘Bugger off, you’ll see it when it’s done,’ told me that he was dutifully fulfilling his obligations to Satan, but Bastien turned around and showed me what he was working on: a map- for me.
Curious, I wriggled out of my stall and went into theirs so that I could study it more closely (earning a huff from Sam, who made an obvious show of twisting more so that I wouldn’t be able to see his re-cap of my ‘journey’ for the day) and that was when Bastien explained his etchings to me, and how they were more of an anti-map than a traditional one, because studying it wouldn’t help me see anything except for the way we had come, and the way that we probably shouldn’t go.
You told him to make me that, didn’t you? I asked Sam, and then realised that he couldn’t hear me because I was wearing my bracelet again. Oh well, thanks.
Sam didn’t move, not even to twitch an auburn eyebrow.
My guide had used an old map of the north as a reference point, but God had destroyed so much of the continent formerly known as North America during Armageddon that the two maps looked nothing alike, not even the coastline, as hundreds of kilometres of land had been reclaimed by rising seas on both sides of the continent. However, the map was handy because it gave me a better idea of where we were now and how much distance we had crossed since leaving Arcadia, and included points of reference that I would never have found on one of the Calliel-made maps, including the cave system under the tidal falls and all of The Sequestered camps, which were of course, highly-guarded secret locations. So secret that this was the first map that had ever been made.
Unfortunately, all I could see on the map were mountain ranges, more Devil’s Claw forest and fields of ice that had to have been bigger than Arcadia. There was a cove literally just above us, but Bastien explained that no, sailing out of there was not an option- it was full of ice bergs, riptides and whirlpools and even if it hadn’t been, the cliffs around it were so sheer that no one had even been able to get down to the water before.
‘This is impossible…’ I muttered, frowning down at the map in concentration and consternation. ‘If you’re right about the lie of this land, how am I going to find a way that you have all failed to find, much less, get seventy other people through it too?’
Bastien shrugged. ‘I’ve made a rule to never underestimate humans or what they can withstand.’ He tugged on my frazzled braid. ‘And I’m counting on your inner fire to see us through anyway.’
I snorted. ‘I’m not that bloody tenacious. If I was, I would have gotten out of Eden sooner, wouldn’t I?’
‘I wasn’t speaking metaphorically, but literally: your power gives you the ability to keep the cold at bay, and your tenacity, well… there aren’t many people that would attempt to punch Satan in the face to get them out of their way, so don’t underestimate your metaphoric inner fire either, little one.’
I flushed, both embarrassed that I’d taken his words at face value and had forgotten that yes, I could probably melt a lot of ice- and dually flattered by his opinion on my fortitude. But the moment was getting a little too touching for my comfort (especially while Sam was sitting right there probably quoting us verbatim) so I cleared my throat and pointed to above that eastern forest, asking more and more questions until I was even more convinced that my mission was an impossible one, and he was yawning every minute or so.
Pirates had managed to get to the eastern side of the continent before, but it hadn’t done them much good because a rival faction had found its way there shortly after too, and the resulting squabble over the sliver of land that they’d discovered had killed most of them and drawn Janiel’s notice to the invasion, causing them to amp up their border security. Three people had survived that battle and had migrated their way over to The Factory the previous Spring, but ac
cording to Bastien, they’d sworn that the area they’d abandoned had been as desolate as the wastelands were anyway and not worth investigating further.
That was crushing to learn, but Bastien wouldn’t allow me to go off to bed defeated, and so he rubbed my shoulder encouragingly when he saw me droop. ‘Don’t lose faith, Larkin. Just because we haven’t found a way north yet doesn’t mean that we won’t. For six hundred and fifty years, no one believed we’d get through this part of the north either, but here we are...’ he nodded at the map and patted my back. ‘And onwards we will go until we find a place to settle down, permanently. All long journeys end, eventually, even if it does feel like they take an eternity to complete.’
I nodded and smiled thinly as I wriggled out of his cell and back into mine, deciding not to tell him that it wasn’t the length of the journey that I feared, but the idea that the permanent resting place we’d find at the end of it was the kind that we all longed for and rightfully deserved: an eternal one, well out of God and Satan’s reach, buried under the snow in a forgotten world that not even the pirates would bother with.
*
I slept deeply that night by repressing all of my thoughts and fears and concentrating on the sound of Sam’s pencil scratching, but they were too numerous to be ignored for long and somewhere around five a.m., they penetrated my dreams and jerked me from my slumber so roughly that I gasped as I sat up, feeling like I was falling.
At first I felt panicked and disoriented by the complete darkness of that room, but the sounds of people snoring and shifting restlessly in their sleep assured me that everything was how it should be, and that I was the only one being so tortured by dreams of Satan, Hell, and blue-eyed boys that broke their promises. However, getting my bearings didn’t make me feel any better because my claustrophobia felt even more overwhelming in that darkness and so I instantly broke into an anxious sweat, realizing that it was Wednesday and that meant the time for me to take the lead had come.
But I can’t do it like this! I need a plan! Instincts! A better map! Something!
I pushed Martya’s sweaty, heavy limbs off me and scurried out of the sleeping quarters like a rat through a crowded sewer, and almost yelped in alarm when I felt someone grab my ankle.
‘Here…’ the old woman with the long white braid croaked, holding out a small wax-wrapped parcel of what I’d come to learn was rabbit jerky. ‘A little nourishment for your outing.’
I stared down at the old witch in confusion (was it Arial? I was too tired to remember!) and eventually shook my head. ‘No thank you,’ I whispered, disentangling my ankle from her grasp, thinking that she smelled like old paper but not in an unpleasant way. ‘I don’t want anything to eat, I just-’
‘Your wants and needs are no longer your primary concern. We need you, and so, you must take our food and live.’ She stretched up so that it was within my reach and frowned at me. ‘You may not enjoy the taste, but you will live longer for the nourishment it provides. Take it, and then flutter off safely.’
I stared at her resentfully for about ten seconds and then sighed and took the jerky, stuffing it into my back pocket to appease even though I knew I’d have to be starving to eat it. ‘Thank you,’ I said softly and somewhat gruffly. Like I needed to be reminded that I no longer belonged to myself- again! ‘You are too kind.’
‘There is no such thing as too kind,’ the woman said as she lay back down again, being absorbed by the other bodies around her in that lumpy darkness.
‘Right...’ I agreed, before tip-toeing out onto the landing while silently thinking: ‘But there’s definitely such a thing as too creepy!’ and thanking the gods that she’d given me rabbit jerky instead of a rabbit’s foot or something worse.
Once I was out on the landing, I paused to get a handle on my breathing and stared at the door across from me, asking myself if I was crazy for even considering going out there alone and without my cloak.
Not crazy, burning alive! I need fresh air that doesn’t smell like human bodies and sweat and mildew! I need open spaces! So I’m going NOW!
It took me the better part of two minutes to wrestle the door open due to how much frost had collected in the jamb and a sweat actually broke out across my forehead in the effort it took to get the handle to turn, but I stumbled out onto the snowy ground the moment that it opened and yanked it shut behind me, not caring if it sealed closed again now that I was on the ‘wrong’ side of it. The sky was still incredibly dark and a sheet of icy winds was sluicing through me that made me shiver uncontrollably, but I opened my arms to the sky and delighted in it as the force pushed me back against the building, deriving the same sense of satisfaction from that arctic air that most cold people got from stepping under a warm jet of water.
Heavenly, I thought, closing my eyes and tracing my tongue with my lips to taste the powdery snow that was being blown across my face. Absolutely heavenly. Oh god, how can you be so consumed by creating perfection elsewhere, if that means missing out on moments like these? One simply cannot appreciate extreme cold, or know the beauty of it, until they have struggled with extreme heat!
I felt like a traitor to God, Satan and my fire but I didn’t care. My inner heat was my gift and one that I was learning to be grateful for, but like Sam’s gift it was also a curse- a condition that I knew could result in heart failure if I didn’t find a way to manage it carefully and constantly, soon.
Cold air. Cold water. Releasing flames. Flying… they all help. They all lower my temperature and my anxiety, so… FLYING! Of course! I should be FLYING!
I spun around as I shrugged out of my coat and studied the snowfields behind me, panting with excitement now as I realised that the solution to all of my problems might have been at hand all along. Not under my nose, but between my shoulder blades, and just as I thought it, I felt my wings unfurl and with a jolt that was followed by a rush of adrenaline that woke me up completely. For the sake of safety I quickly rolled my bracelet off my wrist and deposited it by the door with my jacket, but I did so hastily as excitement overwhelmed all of my other sensibilities, tricking me into thinking that I was overheating still when really, my skin was already turning blue.
Who needs a map when you have wings, right?
Puffing out clouds of mist, I began to lope across that thick wet snow, flapping my wings laboriously and forcing myself to move faster and faster until my feet stopped sinking into the slush, and started cycling through the air instead. I was immediately struck by how much more resistant the wind was there compared to the first and only time that I had flown over Eden, but I gritted my teeth and concentrated my energy on making those wings open and close in tandem with my breathing and soon enough, I was high above The Factory and soaring away from it and over the wastelands.
This is it! I realised, watching the landscape beneath me unfold and reveal things that I wouldn’t have come across after even an hour of walking. I was about three hundred feet off the ground and ascending quickly and to my delight, the winds were losing their strength and the land beneath me was starting to become easier to read. This is how I’ll find my way! There’s The Wildwoods, up ahead, and there’s-
I screamed as I ploughed face-first into a blanket of white clouds so opaque that I could not see even my own hand in front of my face. My eyes began to frost over and my head spun, and for lack of a better plan I immediately stopped flapping my wings and started plummeting back to earth while wiping at my eyes, trying to scratch away the rime that had sealed them shut. That wasn’t working so I screamed again, forcing what little heat was left in my body back into my hands, which I balled into fists and pressed into my eye sockets, making my skin hiss. The heat was almost unbearable, but the ice coating my face immediately began to melt so I could blink again, except my relief at having my vision back was rudely interrupted by the sight of the Sleeping Giants that were rising up from the ground beneath me now to break my fall- and every bone in my body with it. My heart and stomach dropped at the sight, and my mind
went blank with fear. This was one hundred times worse than jumping off the tidal fall! How cruel Satan was, for robbing me of the will to die and restoring terror to moments like this!
I screamed a third time and began to pump my wings frantically as my thighs reflexively tucked up against my abdomen, and although the strain on the muscles in my back was intense, the action was effective enough and as quickly as I’d begun to drop I began to rise again, gasping for breath while silently screaming every curse word I knew in my fear and frustration as I flew awkwardly backwards. How many times could one person almost die in less than thirty seconds, anyway? Having wings was turning out to be a lot more dangerous than not having them had been!
The urge to flutter my wings wildly to get as far away from the forest of Devil’s Claw was overwhelming, but I forced myself to keep my movements tentative so that I wouldn’t accidentally propel myself up into the low clouds above me again. I twisted around to come back the way I had gone and gently lowered myself to the ground as soon as the snow was within reach, grunting when I landed heavier than I would have liked, and blinking in surprise when I looked back at my wings to inspect them, and discovered that they- and every other inch of me- was covered in tiny ice crystals!
‘Wh-what the…?’ I dusted the crystals off my skin and although some were brushed away, others stuck and stung and I grimaced, grateful for the fact that no one was around to witness this embarrassing expedition of mine.
Oh, there are witnesses… Sam’s voice was clear but sounded a lot further away than usual, and didn’t hurt me as much as they normally did. Turn around and wave to your audience Larkin- or at least have the decency to come back this way and flap about where we can all see you as clearly as I can hear you… it’s good fun. Kind of like watching a drunken lorikeet flap about...
I did no such thing, and although I ground my teeth together in embarrassment to understand that my thoughts had woken Sam up and given him cause to venture outside to watch me- and to bring a crowd with him- I did appreciate the fact that my hot flush of shame was melting the frost off my skin and wings. I flapped my wings gently a few times to air them out (the brisk air wasn’t stinging them but it was numbing them, which I didn’t like) and then began to study the sky above me and then the tree-line behind me, biting my lip and wondering how I could utilise my advantages without being smacked down to earth again by my disadvantages. I’d wanted to fly high above the region so that I could get a good look at the lie of the land, but thanks to that low cloud cover, there was only so high that I could go before I became lost within that horrid whiteout. There was a chance that I could go as fast as possible, penetrate them and emerge on the other side before panic set in again, but if the storm was as bad as Bastien said it was then I wouldn’t be able to see anything below me anyway.